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#because it certainly doesn't seem to mean that you love me.
wholoveseggs · 2 days
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girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
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pocketgalaxies · 1 month
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C1E60 || C3E88
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chuluoyi · 9 days
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jealousy, jealousy...
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- nanami kento x reader
your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)
note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.
He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.
Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.
So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—
"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."
Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."
Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.
The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"
"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."
And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…
"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"
Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.
You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.
Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.
But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?
"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"
A puppy... is what?
That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.
No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!
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The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.
Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.
Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.
"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.
Who... are you texting?
Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."
"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."
You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"
But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."
However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.
Ino.
A puppy is still a dog, you know~
The heck?
"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.
"Time for bed, dear."
Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.
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The third time, Nanami had enough.
He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.
Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!
He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—
He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."
"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"
Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"
Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.
"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."
"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"
"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."
"...what?"
And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.
Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.
"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"
He huffed. "I was not jealous."
"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"
"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"
"Oh—?"
"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."
And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."
You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.
"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"
Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.
"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"
And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.
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Epilogue
"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"
Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.
"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."
"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."
"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"
As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.
"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"
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simplyreveries · 3 months
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I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!
what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?
e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)
OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭
OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!
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azul ashengrotto
despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.
so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.
like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.
jade leech
he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.
it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..
like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.
leona kingscholar
he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.
if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.
leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.
malleus draonica
malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.
speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.
after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.
lilia vanrouge
he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.
just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!
lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.
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lovebugism · 16 days
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hi bug! Can I request you a ditzy or shy!reader where some girl flirts with Steve in front of her maybe at Family Video? Little angsty because she feels insicure of herself? Thank you🩷
ty for requesting!! — steve doesn't realize he's being flirted with because he's so in love with you (ditzy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)
You color in a scribbled heart with enough vigor to break the pink crayon in your hand.
Steve always hangs your drawings in his locker in the Family Video break room, so you tend to take your art pretty seriously. ‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing humorous about the two stick figures holding hands — each of them vaguely resembling the both of you — that you’re passionately scribbling behind the front counter.
He’d watch you work your magic on a piece of lined scrap paper if he could. He’s too busy tending to a regular now. Mia, he thinks, or maybe Maia. She rents movies every week, but according to the system, she doesn’t watch a single one of them. 
“Well, what do you recommend?” she questions with a smirk on her painted lips, leaning her elbows on the counter until her chest juts out.
Steve leans slowly backward and tries not to cough at the overwhelming scent of her fruity perfume. “Uh… I don’t know,” he answers with an unenthusiastic shrug. “I usually just watch whatever.”
The girl squints her dolled-up eyes. “You don’t have a favorite movie?” 
Steve ponders the question for a moment. ‘Cause he doesn’t have one, really. All his favorite films are your favorites because he spends the majority of movie nights watching you instead.
So, at a loss of how to answer, he tells her your first choice. “The Star Wars movies are pretty alright.”
“Do you have them here?” she wonders.
Steve nods and points her in the other direction. “Yeah. In the Sci-Fi section.”
“Can you show me?” the girl questions with a hopeful glint in her pale eyes. Everything about her sparkles with mischief, like a predator hunting for prey. Stealthy, like a ninja, Steve would’ve called the approach a couple years ago. Long before he found you.
He’s more into forthright proclamations of love these days — bubblegum pink lipstick stains pressed to his cheek and handmade pictures drawn in crayon.
But, for the sake of Keith totally reaming him for not helping a customer, Steve nods and rounds the front counter. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Follow me,” he urges halfheartedly, sparing you a forlorn glance as he goes. You’re much too distracted to see it, though.
You’re too distracted to notice most things, really.
That’s why Robin’s angrier than you are about the whole thing. She exhales a big huff and stands across from you, peering over the tower of tapes there. “God, he’s so oblivious,” she groans.
Your hand freezes as you color in Steve’s vest. You glance up at her with wide eyes, heart sinking at the annoyed look on her freckled features. “Huh?”
“Steve. That girl’s been drooling over him for five minutes, and he hasn’t even realized.”
Your brows pinch. “What girl?”
“The one that’s hanging all over him,” Robin answers, nodding her head to the other side of the store. The girl in question lingers at Steve’s side, a little too close to be casual. She hangs on every word he says — which certainly can’t be a whole lot, considering he knows next to nothing about that Star Wars franchise.
“I thought she was just being nice,” you shrug.
“She was flirting with your boyfriend,” Robin corrects in a monotone. “It was disgusting. I’m pretty sure her flirt got all over my pants.”
You look back at the two across the room. Steve tenses when the pretty redhead presses her chest against his arm. For the sake of not making things totally awkward, he forces himself not to shrink away. What had seemed virtually innocuous to you now makes your stomach ache. 
“She’s so pretty…” you observe quietly to yourself. 
Robin only scoffs. “Yeah. If you’re into girls like that.”
You don’t know exactly what she means, but it makes you lean slightly forward in interest anyway. “Do you think… Do you think Steve’s into girls like that?”
“No,” Robin answers, features twisted like it’s obvious. “He’s into girls like you.”
For the first time ever, you find that slightly hard to believe. Why would Steve ever pick you over someone like her? The way she smiles is pretty. The way she laughs is pretty. Even the way she talks is pretty.
And what do you have? A couple of stupid crayon portraits?
A strange feeling sears your chest when Steve and the pretty girl walk back to the counter. He must’ve told her a joke or something ‘cause she tips back her head to laugh loudly in response. Jealous tears sting your eyes accordingly. You take your art and your box of dull crayons and scurry off to the break room.
“I can help you check out!” Robin offers, suddenly very chipper. 
The redhead’s face twists. “Oh. I thought that—”
“Steve’s needed in the breakroom, actually,” Robin tells her when the stranger’s pleading eyes flit to the boy beside her. “I can handle it from here.”
“Wait— What’s in the breakroom?” he wonders obliviously.
“Your girlfriend, dingus.”
Steve blinks once. The sudden lack of your presence makes his chest ache. He stalks off to find you without another word.
The redhead, Mia or Maia or whatever, doesn’t bother to disguise the shock painting her dainty features. “Girlfriend?” she echoes, quiet with disbelief.
Robin nods and takes the tapes from her hands, knowing she’s only renting them ‘cause she thought Steve liked them. The scanner beeps as she rings them up. “Yeah. He’s kinda in love with her, turns out. It’s disgusting.”
The conversation fades the further Steve gets down the hall. He opens the door to the back room with a grating squeak. The rusted hinges screech again in protest when he swings it shut behind him. He finds you slouched over the table, vehemently scribbling with vibrantly colored crayons.
He can’t help but smile at the sight of you. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts in place of a greeting, sliding back a chair to sit across from you.
“Nothin’…” you mutter distantly.
Steve folds his arms over the tabletop and rests his chin on top of them. It bobs with every word. “Why’d you leave me, huh?”
You shrug with a faint I don’t know type of sound.
“Can I see what you’re drawing, at least?” 
He grins and reaches for you without thinking — because you always let him see. Needless to say, when flinch suddenly away from him, it scares him far more than it should. You scramble to cover the paper with your arms like you’re doing something wrong. 
“No,” you answer in a mousy voice.
A chuckle spills from Steve’s mouth. “What? Why? You always show me.”
“It’s stupid…”
“It’s not stupid! I love when you draw stuff for me,” the boy insists with a lopsided smile, distantly surprised by your sheepishness. The pretty pink grin slips from his mouth at the crestfallen glint in your eye. He softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did— Did Robin say something?”
“No.” 
“Then what?”
You avert your eyes from his prying ones, feeling half-suffocated beneath his honeyed gaze. You start to color again with an absentminded hand, if only to have something else to look at. “You’re just…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. “You’re too pretty.”
He laughs before he means to. “What?”
“You’re pretty, and I don’t like that other people get to look at you,” you confess quietly, coloring in Steve’s hair with the ‘deep golden’ crayon. “It’s not fair— No one else should think you’re as beautiful as I do. I don’t like that.”
Steve props his chin on his palm and hides his grin behind his fingers. He reaches for your busy hand with his free one to get your attention. “Well, you know what?” he starts when your eyes flit up to his. “You’re the only one I want looking at me. So what everyone else thinks doesn’t really matter.”
“It is when they’re drooling all over you,” you answer with a scrunched nose.
Steve can’t help but scoff out a laugh. Those words have Robin Buckley written all over them. 
“Last I heard, Rob was giving that girl what for, so… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he tells you, both to soothe the misplaced jealousy and to make you smile. He thinks it only half works. “Can I tell you a secret?”
You perk up at that. Steve grins and leans in close like he’s about to confess something serious. His dark eyes twinkle with mischief. 
“I’m so stupid in love with you that I forget other girls exist sometimes,” he murmurs in true secret-spilling fashion. “And when they’re… drooling all over me? I don’t even see it. ‘Cause all I’m thinking about is how I have my own girl back home. And that I’d much rather have her drooling on me.”
“…Am I the girl?” you press in a tiny voice, just to be sure.
“Yes, baby, I’m talking about you,” Steve chuckles. “You should know that— You’rethe one drooling on my pillow every morning.”
Your nose scrunches sheepishly. “You’ve said that word too many times… It doesn’t sound real anymore.”
“What’s that called again?”
“Semantic satiation,” you answer without missing a beat.
“Well, now I’m gonna tell you I love you ’til you’re semantically satiated,” the boy teases with a knowing squint in his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”
“Steve.”
“I love you.”
“Stop,” you say, sterner now, though your gaze still glimmers with something soft. Your eyes follow his form when he rises from the table, shifting the short distance to sit in the chair closest to you. “Steve, stop—”
“I love you,” he repeats, anyway, taking you into his arms and smacking a dramatic kiss to your warm cheek. Between each innocuous peck, he mumbles, “I love you— I love you— I love you—”
Steve doesn’t stop kissing you until he hears you giggling again. The pretty sound brightens the dull breakroom. And all he can think about is what a lucky schmuck he is. To get to kiss you and make you laugh forever.
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anantaru · 3 months
Note
overprotective ex!boyfriend aventurine??? <3
cw. [ex]plicit, rough sex, toxic relationship (you cannot keep a distance from each other!!!), he's obsessed with you, ex! boyfriend au, fem! reader
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let's get one thing straight out of the way.
aventurine and you were not broken up. it was merely a skimpy, little break— not worth bothering about.
at least that's how he saw it, and aventurine couldn't believe that this pointless pause was turning from a couple days to multiple weeks. precisely how you give off the idea of wanting to move on? live life but not with him in the picture?
without reserve, it turned him insane.
although luckily enough, aventurine had no plans of letting you go.
he wanted your relationship to go on forever, because you see, aventurine doesn't just love you, that certainly wasn't enough— he was undoubtedly obsessed with you, and the more you two were apart from one another, the more you craved each other.
or at least the physical aspect of it.
you cannot help it, and you know it's wrong— but there was only one person who knew your body from inside and out, who would reach for the stars in the sky in order to make you happy. aventurine wasn't the easiest person to get along with, sure, but that didn't mean you could just forget about him, not when you were still very much in love with him too.
to a higher standard, you do realize you were important to him, right? he's a little fucked up in the head and sometimes seems like he's lost his mind, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how love was supposed to feel like.
you showed him how it looked like, yes, how it felt, of course, how it moved and tasted.
at this point, you were really using each other for selfish reasons, acting like two dirty liars with two different goals.
aventurine was angel alike, calming to ones gaze— hypnotizing eyes that swerve tremors through your veins when he fixes you underneath his famished glare, or his cheeky grin that spread wide and sharpened on instinct when he catches you stare.
when it comes to the hold he had on your body, you are done for, sensed the magic-like pull resembling that of a moth to a fire, igniting your deepest desires.
"i knew you'd come back to me, sweetheart," aventurine's sugarcoated, and a little eerie whispers leisurely trickle from the tip of his tongue before running a cold shiver down your spine, "because you see baby, you always do."
"nothing can break us apart, isn't that correct?"
his thrusts were usually on the stronger side, but they held on to calculated movements of his hips trapping yours against the mattress.
his grinds and sensual thrusts ripple through your opening, rutting back and forth your sopping walls, truly restlessly, his raw skin connecting and hungrily soaking up your filthy juices.
your blistering hot cunt was designed to turn him into a mess, one that cannot get enough of you— aventurine gets drunk on the feeling of your pussy suffocating his shaft, and he's making you look at him through a doe-eyed expression when his tongue darts past his mouth to lick across your bottom lip, listlessly pulling angelic noises from you.
aventurine doesn't make love to you, such phraseology enunciated boredom to him personally.
at the same time, he fucked you with meaning— until the bed rocks violently back and forth and scratches the wooden floor as he reminds you on whom your body belonged to.
it's euphoric, salacious and wicked in the way how your snug, constricted cunt shivered around his hefty girth, his tip embedding a touch of feathers once and away your golden spots until you were crying out his darling name.
he drags further into your creamy cunt until you clench a bit, resulting in his thrusts stuttering through one, big snap forward and fuck, it's just so long, covering every spot on your walls without much thought.
and yeah, that's right, aventurine was not only confident in his skills but moved his shaft as precisely as you liked.
although now, his hips were suddenly turning slow and ponderous— you already know that he did it on purpose, probably to taunt and make you beg for him, or perhaps so he could slant forward and hypnotize your eyes with his own, buzzing gaze.
your legs were tensing hard around his waist as he angles his hips just right, setting off sparks behind your eyes when he pushes down on your bristling pussy— how magical and full you felt, it turned your brain overstimulated to the point where no left over energy in your body was able to even focus on the aftermath.
the moments that follow next, the consequences of fucking your ex boyfriend, merely days after your problematic break-up.
but that's what you wanted, right? it's what your body craves when you look at him through soused lashes, sticky mascara smeared over your eyes as his warm heaves ghost along your wet lips.
a big, twisted smirk on his face finalized this situation, your mind spiraling into the humid air upon witnessing it.
right then and there, it feels like there weren't any problems— only aventurine and you, grinding your bodies together with your heart rattling against your chest when he thrusts all the way inside of you until his balls hit your ass, his erection delving all the way forward.
how indescribably strange love was.
it can be destructive, but at the same time, it can pump the adrenaline and make your heart beat rapidly.
that was something no science could explain, honestly, an all-consuming emotion, engulfing your body and mind.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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luveline · 4 months
Note
hi, i’m not sure if your requests are open, forgive me if not, but i’ve been thinking about bombshell!reader and spence lately. not sure if you’ve written this already or something similar, but how about them sharing a room on a case? similar to alaska.
fem, 1k
Spencer predicted the outcome of the roommate situation fairly quickly. Ignoring whatever data he might have in his head about the team, Spencer was always going to end up sharing with you tonight, because the universe hates him, and because you quite like him. 
It's nice to be someone first choice, if nothing else. “Me and Spencer will share, obviously,” you say, holding out your hand for a keycard. 
Hotch passes it over without complaint. He doesn't have to say keep it professional, you will (ish), and he doesn't have to ask Spencer if he's okay with this arrangement. Despite endless exhausting teasing, everyone knows that you and Spencer are actually friends. Or, he thinks you are. 
You certainly feel quite friendly as you hike your bag higher up your arm and sew the other arm through his. “Let's go. I'm so tired I might fall asleep on the way there.” 
You don't look tired. Spencer struggles to understand how every emotion you wear suits you. How every time he looks at you, you're prettier. He read a book recently on human attraction, and less factual but perhaps his most strongly believed takeaway from the book was that a person grows more attracted to the person they're attracted to, like a loop, or an ouroboros snake eating its own tail, forced over and over to make the same stupid mistake. What is he doing? Does he really think this is a good idea? Is he in love with you? How couldn't he be? You walk arm in arm to a room you're going to share and you don't care that he smells sickly of arnica and deodorant mixed together. You ignore the dark circles under his eyes, dark circles you never seem to have, always so perfect, always so you. 
“This one?” you ask, coming to a stop. “Room… 108?” He takes your bag and you smile gratefully, inserting the key, and legging open the door. “Tada. Home sweet home, Dr. Reid.” 
The hotel room is small and stale. Clean, sure, but questionably, with yellowing furnishings and sparse furniture. There's a double bed, two nightstands, a cubby bathroom close to the door, and a single chair near a small free standing countertop opposite of the bed, hosting a microwave and cups with hot chocolate sachets. 
“Wow,” you say, beaming, immediately breaking for the bed. 
“Wait, wait! We have to check for bed bugs.” 
You hold your hands up in surrender. 
Spencer peels the sheets back and uses the little torch on his keychain to investigate the mattress while you sit on the floor, one leg crossed beneath you and the other stretched in front of you as you sort through your clothes. You hum as you fold a shirt cleanly and make a pleased sound that may prove to give him indigestion as you unearth your pyjamas. 
“Spencer, can I shower first? Do you mind?” 
“I don't mind.” He turns off the torch, satisfied. “Thank you. For letting me check without being annoyed.”He says the second bit quieter than he means to. 
“Why would I be annoyed?” you ask, standing up in a whirlwind of pistachio perfume. Low notes of something sweet and caramelised haunt him as you drop your hand on his shoulder. “I'm gonna shower really fast, I swear. Should we get dinner? I bet we could order something to the front desk.” 
“I'll see if they have any menus.” 
Sitting in bed with you, later, showered and fed and drinking microwaved hot chocolate from paper cups together, Spencer has a strange flash of pleasure. Talking to you, seeing you with your hair in its protective style for the night, your skin shining with lotions and serums, and to have the revelation that you really do have dark circles under your makeup, it all feels private and special. Because you're still undeniably beautiful, and you act like he's worth sharing that with. 
He feels overwhelmed, in all honesty. 
You can sense it. You do your best to calm him down. 
“Finish your drink, babe,” you say, knocking him on the thigh with your knuckles. “It was a really long day.” 
“I'm fine.” 
“Yes, you are.” You giggle at yourself. “Sorry, I'm being serious tonight, I decided.” 
“Why?” he asks, puzzled. 
“I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“You don't.” 
You put your hot chocolate on the nightstand and sink back into the pillows, looking every bit a movie star as usual despite your fresh face. It's your expression, the confidence behind them, that makes you so beautiful. 
“What are you thinking?” you ask. 
He looks down into his hot chocolate, swirling the drink around and around. “You're beautiful.” 
It catches you off guard. You're quiet for too long, panic festering in his chest. 
“You are too.” You put your hand on his thigh. When he brings his haze to your face, you've closed your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Wanna brush my teeth for me?” 
“No.” You both laugh. “Sorry if that was out of the blue, before.”
“I say worse to you,” you say. “Lay down with me. We can snuggle.” 
Spencer lays down. You don't snuggle, but your hand stays pressed to the side of his thigh, and the smell of your perfume lingers despite your shower. It must've been caught in your hair. 
“It's weird,” you say, facing the ceiling, “I'm not tired anymore.” 
“It's called learned arousal.” 
Your laugh is a shock. “Oh, is it now?” 
“Not like that. Are you thinking about work? If you think about certain things while you're in bed, it starts to make it so you think about those things on instinct. You've conditioned yourself.” 
“I don't think so,” you say. “Well, maybe. Mostly I just think about you, Spence. And not like that.” You laugh again, so much laughter Spencer could conjure the sound from memory alone. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I promise I'm not trying to harass you.” 
He stares at the side of your face. “I know what you mean. I think about you too.” 
“Well, good to know I'm not in this torture alone,” you say softly. 
It is the worst night's sleep of Spencer's life, but he thinks he might want to do it again. 
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stillfrownyclownlol · 4 months
Text
Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-
Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)
The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.
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Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)
He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.
The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-
It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?
He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀
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And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.
And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-
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He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.
I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.
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That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.
It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.
And what makes you feel more alive than love?
Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.
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He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.
He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.
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Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.
Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.
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He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-
Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠
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The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.
I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.
Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.
Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher
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awearywritersworld · 5 months
Text
i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you
sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist
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"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.
"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."
"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."
you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"
"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."
"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.
"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."
with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.
you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.
as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.
your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).
he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"
"nothing," you huff.
"don't be a brat."
you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."
"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."
he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.
when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.
"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."
"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"
you scoff. "well you've got me there."
a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."
you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.
wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."
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you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."
he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.
"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."
"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."
"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."
"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."
"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."
"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."
you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.
as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.
you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.
the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.
"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.
after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.
"let's sit here for a little while."
he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.
as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.
sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.
"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.
"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.
his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.
when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.
"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.
your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.
truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.
no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.
the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.
so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"
his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"
some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.
"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.
he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.
"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."
and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.
"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."
ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.
"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."
the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."
you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."
then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.
you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.
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when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.
you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"
as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."
"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"
"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.
"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."
"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."
before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"
he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."
"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.
gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"
"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."
"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."
gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"
yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.
his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.
having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.
leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"
"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"
"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."
gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.
he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"
yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."
"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."
a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"
megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"
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when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.
"ta ta, hooligans!"
you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.
looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.
he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.
"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."
"i'd rather you didn't."
you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."
he hums. "how much did you drink?"
"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."
he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."
"tha's correct, yes."
unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."
you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.
pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.
"tuck me in?" you request.
sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.
he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.
instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."
his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.
but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."
"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."
your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.
love?
what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.
suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:
"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."
rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?
were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?
is that what love is?
could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?
does the definition of love lie in those questions?
sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.
he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.
he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.
so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?
gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.
the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged
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jaegerbby · 6 months
Text
➳ triggered
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--͙[ken ryuguji x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 12,944
╰┈➤ rundown; in all the years you've known draken, he has only loved one girl but that doesn't mean he'll let you be with someone else.
╰┈➤ caution; TOXIC DYNAMIC. possessive! toxic! draken, dubcon/coercion, fwb to something more?, parental character death, tw/emma (lol), manhandling, emotional manipulation, abusive undertones, threats with a gun, mentions of suicide, slight mitsuya x reader, alcohol mentioned, face fucking, oral sex (m&f), unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, cervix fucking, belly bulge mentioned, baby trapping, impregnation, use of the word slut. draken is a literal head case in this. he gets mad when you call him draken (as he should?)
not proof read !
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you almost drop your phone when the nurse tells you about your mother's condition. "ma'am, are you there?" your lips tremble, a hum leaving you because you do not trust yourself enough to speak.
"she's in room 34, level 12. you'll be further informed when you arrive." you swallow hard, feeling your chest tighten. "thank you." it is all you can manage to say before you end the call.
your relationship with your mother is strained to say the least but the thought of her bleeding out all alone makes you sick. the last memory she has of you is bitter words.
you hurriedly pull on jeans and a shirt draken left. his scent is enough to comfort you. you dial his number while running down the stairs of your apartment complex.
the cold air meets your skin and it seems all your impulsive actions are foolish.
"ken!" you are too emotional and you need him here. you can hardly keep yourself sane, every thought in your head is blaming you. you are not the best person, you know that but did you deserve something so cruel?
"what's wrong?" the sound of his deep voice alone, makes you relax. you grip the fabric of your his shirt. "my mom is in the hospital." your words come out in a flurry, jumbled and confusing.
you cannot quell the panic that fills you.
"hey, calm down." it is soothing, draken always knows what you need.
"breathe." you take deep breaths as he guides you, clutching your chest and nodding though he is not here to see. "now, tell me what happened. i'll come."
somehow, you feel lighter, "my mom's in the hospital... can you take me?"
"give me five. don't worry, okay?" you hum shakily as you slump on a bench and bury your face in your hands.
you sit there, cold and tired. you wish you could let yourself be consumed by sleep and this would be a bad dream.
that in the morning you would not have this guilt weighing on your shoulders.
the words 'five minutes' spiral in your thoughts because it certainly felt like hours. you fidget before messaging him. one after the next, asking where he is, if he is coming, why he lied.
though, it is left unanswered. he does not reply much less open it. your lips tremble, squeezing your fists so tightly you almost break skin.
you do not want to cry but it is all getting to you. as much as you fight it, you break.
loudly sobbing, roughly drying your face but it is coated with fresh tears a second after.
you keep telling yourself that he will come. you conjure up some stupid excuse for him because he never does it himself. it is times like this where you wonder if anything he said was genuine.
you need him here and he let you down. you should have expected it, he did it before. for someone who was more important that you, who would always be more important than you.
"yn?" you are sure you look horrible with blood shot eyes and messy hair. you are not able to move, simply staring as mitsuya parks his bike.
he is so kind, you do not deserve it. he hurriedly steps towards you, his eyes softening when a fresh stream of tears slip down your face.
"are you okay?" he tugs off his jacket, wrapping it around you before he kneels down and grips your hands. he immediately rubs them with his.
he tries to make you warm but all you feel is cold.
you should not ask, you are hurt enough but it is on the tip of your tongue.
it slips.
"where's ken?" you mumble when he guides you to stand. your eyes staring up at him, wide and tear filled.
"draken? he's with emma," it hits you like a freight train and it hurts more because you knew. you got the answer you were expecting but your chest still aches.
mitsuya's large palms cup your cheeks, swiping at the tears. his face coated in worry, "why are you crying?"
"my mom's in the hospital. can you take me? please." you are cut off when he tugs you against him. gentle as he strokes your hair and tries to ease your pain.
you sob into his chest, every part of you feels broken. your fists tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt and you press against him more. it should be draken.
you hate how desperately you wish he was holding you instead.
"i will, don't cry." he mutters into your hair, squeezing you before he lets you go. his fingers lace with yours as he guides you to his bike.
your head is filled with tumultuous excuses, anything to make you believe ken has a good reason.
he does not, he never did. not a word leaves you as mitsuya drives. even though your hands grip his clothes, desperately searching for something to keep yourself afloat.
when you are at the hospital, you feel like you are out of your body.
"i'll wait for you outside," mitsuya says, releasing your shoulders, having taken you to the room. the sight of your mother laying in bed unconscious, countless tubes and machines connected to her.
you fall to your knees, begging, pleading for her to get up. she is all you have left and you hardly see her.
you grasp her hand, you were seldom given that opportunity before. she is as cold as it is outside, maybe the weather was preparing you to feel her skin.
she is as cold as she acted to you your whole life and yet you cry for her to wake up. scream that she would at least open her eyes and tell you to stop your whining. she does not.
your heart breaks for the second time that night.
---
ken <3: come over
yn: not in the mood rn
ken <3: i just want you here
you thought he would at least apologise but when has draken ever?
he does not acknowledge it, he moves on like you mean nothing. like your feelings are none of his concern.
you were friends before this.
all this arrangement showed was how little he valued you. you know he loves emma and you know he is just fucking you. he would never feel more. not when it comes to you
you always see the hearts in his eyes whenever emma comes around, sometimes you wish he would look at you that way. others, you wish you never got involved with him in the first place.
it is so easy to be swayed when it comes to him. it is almost embarrassing how easily he can get you to give in.
you tell yourself you will leave the sorrow for the morning and you find yourself at his apartment.
you hate the way he smiles when he opens the door for you.
you hate how good he looks in that stupid tank top that is fitted to his body like a second skin.
you hate how he wraps you in his arms and presses a kiss to your cheek like he did not break your heart just last week.
you shrug him off, pulling the thin jacket from your shoulders and sitting on the couch.
"why'd you cook so much?" you mutter, watching him huff as he drops down next to you. you wish you could move away because he is too close.
he is in your space. his thigh is against yours. when it comes to draken, you are too weak and you have long known it would be your downfall.
"i know you haven't been eating." he scoops some of the rice and lifts the spoon to your mouth. you wish your heart did not flutter, that he was not able to break you down and build you up with such little fanfare.
you let him feed you, silently hurting at his smile. how it reveals his sharp k9s and that stupid chip in his front tooth that he got when you were kids play fighting.
you reach for the bowl and draken's expression falters. he swallows before running a hand through his dark hair. all he does is watch you eat, he tries to make conversation but your answers are brief. you wish he tried harder, that he tried when you needed him.
there is no excuse to give when you are finished eating. you are about to stand when draken stops you.
your body still responds to his touch, jitters wash over your skin. he always has some effect on you.
"you've been avoiding me. you know i don't like that," he is annoyed, it is eerie how calm he is physically when his voice sounds so threatening.
he does not have any right to be mad at you. your face sets in a scowl, "well, i don't like being lied to." you should not provoke him and from the way his jaw clenches, you can tell you are treading on dangerous territory.
"what?" his head tilts. you did not want to fight with him, you never fought with him for years.
there are so many things you let him get away with but it was never this deep. it never hurt you this badly. you have gone too far to stop now.
"you lied to me," you should have been done with him from that night on but when have you ever been able to leave draken alone? you are upset yet you are here, in his apartment looking him dead in his eyes and for the first time he looks angry with you.
"it's been a week, why are you still mad?" he has never looked at you with such an expression before. not with such narrow eyes or such a piercing glare.
"because you told me you'd come! you said you'd be there." your body feels hot with anger as you stand. "you said not to worry. well guess what, my mom isn't here anymore. you were right, one less thing to worry about."
your blood is boiling. for the first time his presence does not calm your nerves. instead, the longer you stare at him, the more infuriated you feel.
"don't blame me, you never got along with her when she was around. i didn't cause that." his lips pull back, he roughly grips your arm as he leans down to level your gaze.
"it's my fault because i waited for you. you always disappoint me but i waited for you." your finger presses into his chest. it is accusatory because the one behind your broken heart is at the end of your nail.
"you're being dramatic." he scoffs, tongue in his cheek while he looks away from you.
"am i? you're the one who said you'd come for me but what happened?" you shove at his shoulder when he rolls his eyes and remains silent. "what happened, draken?" the glare he sends you is deadly.
"did emma call? did you forget all about me the second she called your name? did you run to her when i'm the one that needed you?"
he breathes hard, you swear you see steam coming from him. he grips your upper arms and roughly shakes you.
"yes, you fucking know that so why do you keep asking?" he says it despite all the years you have known each other, regardless of any moment you have together. like all of it is insignificant.
it stuns you for a minute. you knew, yet it still makes your heart ache to hear him say it. you lose your composure entirely for that minute.
he loves emma and you are just a girl he fucks on the side. draken does not care for you any more than he needs to, emma is always going to be his priority.
you did not hold a candle to her flame. no matter how much you dream about it, you do not think you ever would. you grit your teeth, pushing his arms away and stumbling back.
"don't look at me like that," he sighs. his hands swipe over his face before they settle in his hair and he grips at the roots. he is incredibly conflicted, it is typical for him to draw you into his arms when that expression is on your face. though he has never been the reason behind it before.
your ears feel like they are ringing, you are struggling to hold back the tears that fill your eyes. you hate him, you wish you did. hating him is momentary, it is fleeting. your hate never lasts.
"you're a fucking asshole and i hate you." all you both want from this moment is to hurt each other.
"yeah right. say that the next time you're sucking my dick." he sneers. your eyes flicker, face contorting in disgust.
you feel sick. you wonder why you are still here. you truly do not want to throw away all those years you spent by his side. but what good is there fighting for something that can never be?
you hurriedly gather your things with one fleeting glance over his living room.
you swear this is the last time you will be here.
maybe one last grace is what you need to get over him.
draken breathes heavily, holding your wrist as he tries to bring you into his arms. for the first time you fight it, that is all it would take to break your resolve.
"fuck off!" he stares at you in shock. those pretty eyes are blow wide, you never shout at him. "God knows what was going through my mind when i agree to fuck someone like you."
you shove at his chest but it does not move him in the slightest. all it does is relight his anger.
he nears you despite how many times you try to distance yourself. "i don't need you. you think it would make a difference if you left?" cause at the end of it, you know emma is the only one that matters to him.
every word is clear, he enunciates it all because he wants you to be in pain, he wants you to go home and cry over him like you always do.
your whole body tenses, teeth grinding together because you can practically feel the ache in your chest grow more intense. you can feel your heart tear apart. why do you always get hurt in the end?
"fuck you, draken." that is the last thing you say, maybe it is synonymous for 'it's over' but you have never truly been done with him.
you push past him and it is only so easy because he lets you. he lets you leave, you wish he would stop you. you are stupidly hoping he will pull you back to him and tell you he is sorry.
unbeknownst to him the tears are already falling down your cheeks as you storm out of his apartment and slam the door. it feels like you are suffocating, like a second longer in that hell hole would asphyxiate you to death.
you cannot stand the thought of being around him right now yet you know if he apologises you will fall back into his arms.
you feel like throwing up all the food you ate. you feel like he ripped your heart from your chest and tore it to pieces. you flinch at the sound of him cussing, broken glass and stomping emanate from behind the door.
the closer it gets, the more your heart aches. you do not want to see him, you do not think you can handle being near him right now.
your breath shakes as you turn on your heel and run towards the staircase. you desperately needed to be anywhere but here.
--
you stare at the door while your heart is in your throat.
"baby, open up." he bangs on it and you sit curled up on the couch wondering if seeing him is worth the pain that will follow.
tears stream down your face when you shut your eyes. "are you seriously not going to let me in?" he raises his voice, roughly twisting the knob and sucking his teeth. he huffs in exasperation.
"i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry, just open the fucking door." draken speaks lowly. he does not want to alert the people in your apartment complex.
you are stupid.
for him at least because you do as he says.
you barely turn the lock and he forces it open. you see him and all you remember are the things he said last night.
"fuck, how much did you cry?" his thumb strokes beneath your swollen eyes.
you shove his hand away, "why are you here?"
"c'mon, baby, don't be like that." he always ruins you like this. when you try to get away all he does is bring you back.
and you go.
you go because draken fills your heart and no one compares to him. you have known him for far too long to ever let go.
his large palm cups your waist to guide you a few steps back and he shuts the door. he tugs his jacket off, placing it on the hook like that is his designated place.
like he belongs here.
"i wanted to see you." he draws closer. "i needed to see my girl." the tears come again. perhaps they never ceased. you are not his girl. not when he already has one.
"you've seen me, you can get out now." you should know better.
but you do not know when to leave and draken does not know when to let go. he tugs you in.
you hate to be near him as much as you love it. he holds you flush against him, tilting your head back to keep you looking at him. he is horrible. "you get so mad over nothing." you wish you could hate him.
despite you struggling against him, he is unmoved. just like he always is.
"you're so pretty." his plush lips spread in a heart quickening smile. your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, hoping and wishing him away although you are unable to push him back.
"stop imagining emma." he looks almost irritated when you say it.
"don't be stupid." he has to bend down to press his lips to yours. they are soft, like cotton candy fluff. it takes everything in you to not reciprocate as he kisses you without relent. though you are not responsive he sucks down on your bottom lip, nipping the flesh as he pulls away.
"you don't want to kiss me anymore?"
you shake your head and hurt crosses his face. his jaw clenches but desperation is written in his eyes.
"i want you to leave, draken." he flinches, a scowl on his face but he lets you go and you stumble back.
"i make you a little mad and suddenly i'm draken to you?"
"you don't get it, this is done. whatever this was."
he comes closer, at least he tries to. when you back away he seems stunned. "no it's not." you wish he did not know it so well that you are a fool for him.
"baby, what do you want to hear?" he grips your wrists to pull you in again.
"draken, it's done. i'm done, okay? i'm tired." you sob. you want to press your face to his chest and weep your pain away but he is the cause. he is the reason for it all but he is the only one you want comfort from.
"if you're tired, let's sleep. we're not done." he brings you to his chest, presses wet kisses to your cheek like he is not breaking you. "you want me to say sorry? i'm sorry. see, it's better now."
"it's not. just leave. gosh, just get out, draken." you shove at his chest but you swear a part of you dies when he lets you go.
"you want me to get out? fine. when you're done throwing this stupid tantrum and you come running back, i won't listen." his face is covered with anger.
he turns his back, the further he walks away, the more suffocated you feel.
he hears you crying.
it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
it is gut wrenching and heart shattering.
whether you see it or not, draken is crying too.
---
if draken does not hurt someone, he surely is going to break something. he can feel the glass straining under his fingers. he grips it tighter the longer he sees you with mitsuya.
you are here, looking like the prettiest doll in the world and you are not with him.
you are in blue, the dress clings to your perfect body and a ribbon is laced around your ponytail.
you are wearing blue and so is he.
truthfully, you and draken can never get rid of each other.
he sees you sipping on some fruity cocktail because that is all you ever drink. he loves looking at you, he always looks at you but he can see mitsuya too.
he can see how he leans closer to you, how his smile only grows wider when you laugh at something he says. he can see mitsuya draping his arm around your seat and being so attentive when draken knows he is the only one that should be around you.
why are you letting mitsuya so close to you? you were with draken for a long time, he was the only one right?
he only fumes more when mikey, emma and just about everyone around him agrees that you and mitsuya would make a good couple.
he sees red.
your eyes flicker to draken despite your attempts to ignore him. his hair is draped to a little below his shoulders, his shirt is fitted and from here you can see the rings on his fingers.
you see all those things, you see ripped jeans and black boots. you see emma practically sitting on his lap. you do not care.
you do.
you came to the conclusion that he is not willing to put her in danger.
but he is willing to be a danger to you and your heart.
"is it okay if i touch you?" mitsuya's hand hovers over your waist. you nod while sipping your drink. "you can say no." he quickly follows.
"i don't mind."
he sends you a smile and his hand softly caresses your waist.
"are you doing better? if you need to talk, i'm here for you." he is sweet, he has always been. mitsuya has never been a bad friend to you.
"thanks." you down the rest of your drink before turning to face him. "i'll be fine someday." your head screams at you for lying. draken is here and he is not with you. he is with someone else.
he has always been with someone else.
"i know things have been hard since." he pauses, his hand grasps yours. "since everything but i'd still like to see you. you can still come around like you used to."
his palms are so soft, draken's are not. draken's hands have callouses, they are rough and for some reason they feel like they were meant to touch you.
you consider mitsuya, he is your friend. your eyes glimpse over his features. his thumb strokes your hand and you have just begun to appreciate the feeling of someone other than draken when it is ripped away.
the one holding your wrist feels right even though it hurts.
draken towers above you, he sends mitsuya a stony look before he pulls you up and his hand squeezes your waist.
like he wants to overwrite any other person. like he needs to reclaim the places that are only meant for him and not for another man to touch.
you melt. you thaw like ice and turn into liquid. draken pulls you alongside him and you follow.
you have to take quick steps because his are much larger than yours.
once you are outside of the club, the silence is a stark contrast to the loud music. draken breathes heavily, brushing his hair back.
"were you fucking him?" you flinch when the words come out. that was the last thing you expect him to say.
"i'm not dealing with this, draken." you shake your head but he grips your waist. he holds your body and gathers you in his arms like he always does.
"stop treating me like a stranger." his voice strains. "tell me if you were fucking him on the side."
"you're terrible." tears prick your eyes. he has the audacity to accuse you when he has never been yours. he never gave himself to you.
"you did? was he your back up if i ever stepped out?" his fingers squeeze hard enough to bruise. "i never stepped out on you, not once."
"no, draken. i'm not like you." he is destroying you. whether he knows it or not. you are sure he knows it though because draken knows you better than anyone else.
"then why were you with him, why did you let him touch you?" you try to push him away, you really do. all you want is to lay in his arms and all he does is argue with you.
"who are you to ask me that? we're done, remember?" he grits his teeth, burying his head into your neck. draken breathes in your scent and lets it intoxicate him. you intoxicate him.
"we're never going to be over, baby. not you and me." he kisses at your exposed skin. it makes you want to cry more than you already are.
"you have emma." your voice trembles. you tremble. you feel like you are a tower of cards and you are about to collapse entirely.
draken leans back to meet your eyes, his gaze trails over the tears in your pretty eyes and the pout on your lips. his nose nudges yours and then he kisses you.
he kisses you and you feel him everywhere, all at once. you feel him in his palms gliding down your body. you feel him where his tongue claims your mouth all over again. in the spit that is messily exchanged as he sloppily kisses you.
you feel your blood growing hot enough to warm you completely. he pulls away to repeatedly peck your cheek.
"let me go." you brokenly whisper.
"we're going home, okay? i'm taking you home cause you're my girl."
---
when draken gets you into his apartment, he pulls you flush against him. his hands coax over every curve of your body. "i missed you," his nose nuzzles your cheek and you tense under his touch.
it is difficult to be mad at him and being this close is only breaking your resolve further. you push at his chest but all he does is tighten his hold until you can feel the hard, defined muscle of his abdomen.
he is too tempting.
he laughs though it is not very amused. his large palms, grip your waist before they drift to the hem of your dress and slip beneath it. "you're all dressed up and it isn't for me."
"it's not like that." you cannot protest much because draken grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. the angle he tilts your head at is incredibly uncomfortable.
"it is, you got this pretty for him." your eyes roll, an annoyed noise leaving you. it did not make sense to dispute it, not when he already came to some conclusion in his head.
his hands cup your face, the thick of his thumb swiping over your lips, smearing the lipstick. "your makeup looks so pretty." his tone of his voice is indecipherable. you cannot seem to understand him these days. you barely have the will to try.
draken cannot stand the idea of you thinking about another man. it does not sit right with him that you got this pretty and went out with someone else.
draken does not need you to do all this for his eyes to be on you. he leans closer and you do not resist, you cannot.
not when his hooded eyes meet yours and your lips brush together. you need affection, his affection. you can not deny that no matter how hard you try to.
his tongue slips out to wet his lips before he tilts his head and kisses you. it is rough, it is desperate, it does not make sense. why does he kiss you like this when he does not love you at all?
he hums into your mouth, tongue slipping inside to brush over everywhere he has already been. places he always comes back to.
your hands bunch his shirt, eyes squeezing shut because you regret it but you still kiss him with the same burning need.
you pull away breathless, turning from him because it is obvious you are not done like you said you were.
"fuck," draken rasps, leaning in again to suck at your bottom lip. his cock pulses at the way you whine. he wipes at the saliva with his thumb before pressing it against your tongue.
"wanna fuck your mouth." you swallow hard, eyes fluttering. you should not, you know you should not but just this? you just need this much and you will leave.
"gonna be a good baby and let me?" the depth of his voice makes a shiver travel down your spine. how can you refuse when he talks like that?
draken never needs much to sway you, regardless of how stubborn you act. you grip his wrist, pushing it away and he is about to grab you right back when your smaller palms trail down his chest.
the corners of his mouth pull up, "there's my girl." it is drawn out and all too smug. his tongue swipes over his teeth like he finally got what he was waiting for.
your fingers dip into the rivets of his chest and abs. he is all hard muscle where you are soft. you slowly situate yourself on your knees, your hands resting on his thighs.
you are eye level with his erection that was straining in his pants since the moment he laid his eyes on you. he is still smiling, he missed the sight of you between his legs.
each and every time he got to see you look up at him like this, it plagued his mind. you keep watching as his dexterous fingers flex, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zip.
"fuck," his hands fidget, his whole body seems to be vibrating. he tugs his shirt up, his deep v-line framed by the waistband of his boxers is revealed to you.
"did you miss it?" he stares at you the second he pushes down his pants enough to let his cock out. it looks painfully hard. it is slightly curved, just the sight of it makes your insides ache.
he is too big.
draken is bordering on perfect. maybe that is why he is such an asshole. your finger swipes over his slit, pre oozing in thick droplets. your eyes trail from the swollen brownish head to the veins that trailed along the underside.
"i did." your confession comes out breathy, thighs clenching together almost on instinct. he hums, holding his length at the base, breath hitching at the sudden contact.
he presses the tip to your lips, the glossy finish of his pre looks better on you than that stupid lipstick. "open," he sighs quietly, focused on the sticky strands of your spit and the way your tongue squirms under the weight of his cock.
"fuck." his lip pulls back in a grin, he is pretty, especially when he has that expression on his face. your mouth encloses the bulbous part, your slick muscle laves around his slit and a low moan reverberates through ken's chest.
your mouth is too warm, too wet. it feels too good around him. the silky walls of your cheeks and the way your tongue always seems to be heated. how could you expect him to not be addicted?
you pull off, saliva dripping down his length and staining your face. you always got so messy, draken's jaw slackens when you run your tongue along his length before taking him back into the wet haven of your mouth.
you sink down on him and tears prick at your eyes because it is so much. your hand grips what you cannot fit before removing your mouth with a sniffle.
he is in awe at how little your hand always looks when it is grasping him. how much softer it is than his, how it struggles to wrap around him properly.
you jerk up and down his length, swallowing hard. there is an excessive amount of saliva in your mouth. you look up at him and he cups your face. your lips come around his cock, gradually hollowing your cheeks to take him more. the salty taste of his pre is in your mouth, somehow you missed it.
half of his cock is within the confines of your mouth and it seems draken was waiting until you could not retort.
"i hope you can still take me... or maybe you got used to less." his jaw locks, the thought of mitsuya getting his claws into you makes ken sick. your eyes flick up to his, streams of tears down your face. your lipstick all smeared.
ken wants it stained around the base of his cock if he is honest.
maybe then you would know it is only for him. his hand tangles into your hair, gripping the roots as a deep groan escapes him. he watches his length disappear past your lips, the walls of your throat fluttering around him, pulsing.
all the muscles squeezing his length make his hips stutter. perspiration coats his skin and his adam's apple bobs with each of his gasps as he sinks more of his cock past your lips.
it takes a while before your cute nose is pressed to his abdomen, nuzzling the short hair. he sighs, the silky walls of your tight throat are wrapped around him like it is only his to claim.
he lets you get used to it, holding you to his base whilst your tongue wriggles beneath his cock and the heat of your mouth covers him entirely. your hands tightly grip the fabric at his thighs, eyes fluttering continuously before they finally stare up at him.
almost like you are waiting for him to use you. he thinks your eyes should not look that wide nor that innocent.
maybe it is because they never changed even as you have grown. as long as draken has known you, you have never had anyone. he wants to be your someone.
his free hand wraps around your neck, there is a prominent bulge from his member and the feel of it beneath his fingers makes him shiver.
"bet you like having me in your throat like this." he practically whines. "fuck, m'agine you're choking on my dick like a slut." he anchors his hand in your hair before he slowly thrusts. he thinks the way your shoulders tense is too cute.
low moans leave him, he grows louder as his speed increases. he cannot leave you alone, not even if he wanted to.
he does not want to.
his head tilts back, he can feel your muscles moving along him, he can feel your tongue trembling at the underside.
your mouth is so slick with him it is easy to glide his length in and out of you. his abs strain, the veins on his abdomen appearing more. there is an impeding feeling inside him.
wet sounds fill the room as he fucks your mouth, the way he dreamed of during those days without you. he wants this back so badly.
he wants you.
tears freely coat your dewy skin. his thumb rubs at your neck, the bulge forming with each thrust pulses under his digit.
"does it hurt, baby? oh, fuck, getting your pretty throat rawed like this." you feel so, so good. the way you feel on him is inconceivable and indescribable. ken wants this forever.
his grip on your hair tightens as more pre cum is spewed into the back of your throat. he humps at your mouth, he cannot do without this, he cannot do without you.
draken's teeth grind, his breathing stuttering, the evident rise of his chest growing laboured all because he is using you. your lips look like they are straining, he can feel your breaths on him. the weight of your fist tugging his pants and pressing against him. he can definitely feel the need to cum approaching quicker than usual.
he is sure it will help with the soreness of your throat right now. ken wants to give you his cum and claim your mouth again.
"only thing you're swallowing is my dick and my cum" he hates the thought of it being anyone else. his head leans back, jaw dropped to moan.
he feels like he is losing his senses, he feels you all over him. his cock throbs in your mouth, slipping in and out of the perimeter of your slicked lips. "such a good fucking girl, feel so good." he bites down on his lip before hot air puffs from his mouth, his chest and shoulders tense.
draken's deep voice is cut by groans. he is there, he is so close. the warm wetness of your mouth, the drool leaking down your jaw, the tight grip of your throat stroking his length. he cannot take it much more.
he shoves himself completely into you, gripping your hair and caressing your face. he feels the muscles squeezing down on him because he is not supposed to be there.
he wipes the tears on your cheeks but it does not make a difference when everything is so messy. draken's hips stutter, his balls coated in saliva are leaning on your jaw.
you are too good. you are perfect.
his cock throbs, he is breathless and panting as his back tenses and an onslaught of cum is poured into your eager throat. there is so much it spews out of your mouth as you try your hardest to swallow it all.
"you're so good to me, baby." you take him so well, you always do.
he feels you swallowing the salty semen, he stills for a moment. the way your throat clenches on him is otherworldly. a tandem of curses leave him before he pulls you back by your hair and his cock slips from your tight throat.
it is obscene, how the mixture of cum and spit drips from your mouth and the sticky strands remain webbed to his cock. "holy fuck." he leans your head back, admiring the dazed look in your eyes.
he is panting, barely maintaining his composure. "you're so nasty, such a pretty cock slut, huh?" his lip tilts up as he says it. you only get like this for him.
his large palms reach down to lace his fingers with yours as he lifts you. his eyes glaze over your swollen lips and the tear streaks staining your cheeks.
he is quick to press his body onto yours and kiss you. it is way too sweet, especially since his taste is still tainting your mouth. he moans, tightly wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you harder.
his teeth hit yours and ken is pushing more into you. a deep hum reverberates through him as his tongue glides along yours. it has more wetness coating between your thighs. you wondered why he fit so perfectly with you when he was not made for you.
"don't show anyone else this pretty face, it's only for me." he huffs barely an inch away. he will not let you get on your knees for another man. not as long as he is alive.
his frivolous fingers grope your ass, tugging the fabric of your dress up. the roughness of his finger tips press against the wetness your pussy has leaked into your panties. his greedy touches are accompanied by wet kisses to your cheeks.
you wish you could resist him and you try, you really do. "draken, enough." your voice is weak and distant, you hold his wrists but you do not do anything to stop him. you want to distance yourself from him. you want to end this, right?
a scowl pulls over kens features, "don't call me that like you weren't just sucking my dick." nothing you do can get you away from him. draken is truly unshakeable even as you push at his built chest.
"i want to go home," you huff, shoving at him harder but all it does is make him grip you until you are hissing in pain. "no." you brows furrow at his refusal.
draken wants you to understand that you are home. he has been dropping signs for you to stay here for years. how dense are you? when will you understand that it is you and him against the world.
"we're either fucking or this is the last time you see me," you stare at him in faux disgust. like the thought of him repulses you because you desperately try to convince yourself of it.
you swallow hard. "i already told you, we're done."
he does not falter, not even a little.
instead he reels you in closer. his harsh touches are gentler now, tracing your cheek and dusting over your lips. his eyes are so intense as he glimpses over your features. he is not holding you to him, not anymore.
you can pull away, you can leave so why don't you? something about draken enamours you until you lose cognisance.
"you don't really want that. you don't want me to go away." his voice is like temptation incarnate. he strokes at your hair, brushing the stray strands back.
perhaps, you are too far gone when it comes to him. he is all you have ever known, how can you leave him now?
he sees your bottom lip tremble at the thought and he is pulling you into his embrace. he tucks you under his chin, right against his heart. "it's okay." you cannot think much when all you can smell and feel is him. when you can still taste him on your tongue. "sleep with me and your ken won't ever leave."
he does not need a verbal response because the empty look in your eyes tells all. you are like a ditzy slut but you are his so he is okay with it.
draken scoops you up into his arms. something he usually does. your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt whilst he carries you.
everything about you is doll like, from your features to how easily he can do with you as he pleases. you are engulfed by his scent more, if that is even possible. he situates you on his sheets, where you have spent too many nights to count.
you stare at him with wide glassy eyes. what is it that you wanted to say? no? you wanted to say no.
you wanted to be done and you wanted him to leave you alone but the thought makes you nauseous. it makes your heart ache and your ears ring. you cannot fathom being without him.
when his large frame leans down to kiss you gently. when he is cupping your face and tilting your head to deepen it. you cannot say no, not when he is doing all the things you dreamed of.
he is so much bigger than you, in every way. his palms are large and he is covered in muscle. he is tall and intimidating.
he could hurt you. instead his touch coaxes over your waist before he laces his fingers with yours.
"you're so fucking gorgeous." he muses. draken straightens up, looking down at you nestled in his sheets. it is where you belong.
he thinks you look like an angel, one that is fresh out of heaven. your eyes do not leave him as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and swiftly tugs it over his head.
he flashes you a grin, his body flexing beneath your heavy gaze. you are admiring the scars on his skin, the sharpness of his abs and the definition of his biceps. why is he so perfect? why does he always look so stunning?
"like it?" you nod your head as he slips his thumbs into the rivets of his v line and tugs his jeans and boxers down.
he is bare when his knee digs into the mattress and he leans over you. "yeah? you like me?" his hand pets your hair, like you are a dumb puppy begging for praise. your cunts leaking from everything he does, you can feel the liquid dripping from your slit to your ass. "you love me. you do" draken groans.
you nod so eagerly, your throat feels constricted, you are so overwhelmed. everything he says is true. everything he does makes you want him more, love him more.
his strong arms wrap around you, the touch of his fingers on your spine makes you arch up. he is finally unzipping your dress after craving to do it for so long. he kisses your mouth softly, trailing down your neck and continuing over every inch of skin that is revealed as he tugs the fabric down.
draken settles on his knees, his hot breath hitting your breasts and wet, open mouthed kisses are left down your stomach. he huffs, his nose digging into your flesh as his hot tongue slips out. it presses into your abdomen, just above your cunt.
you grip the sheets, the sharpness of his dark eyes meet yours as the length of his tongue trails over your tummy.
there is so much tension in the air it is almost suffocating, you find yourself wishing his tongue was inside you already.
he leans back, thumbs hooking into your panties and stripping you bare of all your clothes. the slick between your legs is sticky to your panties, so soaked they are peeled away.
you swallow hard as draken's hands cup the back of your knees and spread you open for him.
"you have the prettiest cunt, i swear." he whistles. his eyes grow darker the longer he stares. he is entranced by how easy you are to wind up. "all you did was suck some cock and you're dripping." there is a hum deep in his chest.
you are left staring up at him dumbly as he admires you. you cannot formulate a coherent thought aside from him. he is the only thing in your head. your ken.
your body feels unbelievably warm, inside and out with all his fleeting touches. he leans down, your thighs propped on his shoulders as he gets closer to your slick cunt.
you feel like you are intoxicated somehow. maybe it is the alcohol but you only feel this high when he is the one touching you.
his middle and ring finger glide over your sopping entrance. a whine escapes you, fingers tightening in his sheets as he slips one of the lengthy digits inside you. he does not stop, not at all. it is relentlessly pressed all the way to his knuckle.
even as you whimper, even though your walls pulse around him. his eyes do not leave yours when the length of his tongue slips out. a thick glob of saliva slipping from the tip to your already messy cunt.
the pinkness of his lips enclose around your stiff clit. his tongue gliding along it as he sucks and the other coated finger is forcing its way inside.
he needs to stretch you out and fast. he needs you ready to take him. "ken!" it is high pitched, bordering on a whine. you grip his hair. you are already panting, already wanting more.
draken's free hand glides from your hip to grip your waist. he moans into your pussy, the vibration travelling through your entire being. his fingers pump into you with messy sounds. it is like you are sucking them in, as if you do not want to let him go.
wet squelches echo through the room, slick leaks from you and stains his digits.
"there's my girl, keep saying ken." his tongue prods your stilted bundle of nerves, sucking on it like he has done before.
he knows your body like the back of his hand. knows that every curl of his fingers within your dripping cunt has your hips stuttering and your back arching up.
he knows that his mouth on your clit makes your eyes water and your jaw hang open. knows that those moans are because he is hitting so deep inside, you cannot control yourself.
you are breathless when his fingers slip out and his mouth encloses your dripping slit. his tongue is pushed in entirely. you are squealing at the wet muscle that wriggles along your walls.
draken's eyes roll back at the taste of your cunt and he moans. he went without it, without you for too long. he does not think he can do it again.
he will not let himself be without you for that long ever again.
you cry his name, fingers gripping his hair for some semblance of self control. the tighter you hold, the harder he sucks on you.
draken feels like he could spend forever between your legs. like he could die happy if the last thing he tasted was you. his mouth has you drooling and cross eyed. it has your thighs trembling and you bite your lips so much they are raw.
ken is the only one who gets you like this, he is the only one who will ever get the opportunity. "feels good. so good. s'deep." you babble on and on and ken thinks it is the cutest.
he is lapping at your cunt like a man who is deprived of water. honestly, he is and he is upset with you. of course he is.
who did you think you were staying away from him?
he pulls back, slick coating his lips and covering his tongue. "wanna cum." you mewl and his brows raise. his fingers slip right back inside you, all at once. he does not miss a beat as he fucks them into you. "think you deserve it? you haven't been nice, babe." he presses his face to your plush thigh.
gazing up at your expression, you already look like you are fucked dumb. "m'sorry, sorry, ken. i'm sorry." you whimper, dainty fingers reaching for his hand to hold it.
you are such a baby.
what did you get by acting like this aside from making him obsessed with you?
it is such an adorable apology but you spent days away from him. he could hardly function, why did you think it was okay to do that to him? he is catching tears in your eyes, like crystals that are priceless. he sees your snotty nose and pouted lips.
he truly cannot let go of you.
his fingers quicken and your head hits the sheets, leaning back as your hips rock. "close, baby?" your head bobs quickly, "so closeee." your voice is all drawled and heavy with desire.
his mouth covers your cunt again, still fucking into you as your entire body heats up. your stomach feels like there are a million knots within it.
you are crying out his name so adorably, ken cannot help but grin a bit while he is making out with your pussy. your hand squeezes his, nails nicking his skin as you rock your hips against his face. the burning in your abdomen intensifies, only growing greater.
your thighs shift closer together but he is there to stop them, your back arches completely off the mattress when you reach that high. your mind feels white hot, vision going blurry because he does not stop even as you cum.
your tongue is practically lolling out as he laps at your cunt and your body vibrates from the feeling. high pitched moans fill the room all breathy and desperate.
your chest heaves, gripping ken's hand as you try to find your bearings. you can feel his breath hit your entrance, he does not make a move from where he is.
"those days you were ignorin' me." he pauses, his fingers dig into your thigh. you can feel him squeezing your hand tightly, it is not as gentle as it started.
"did you let him see you like this?" your eyes flutter, trying your hardest to steady your breathing. "i didn't sleep with him." you mumble, leaning into the softness of the pillows. your body feels exhausted already.
ken roughly pulls away from you, the sudden jolt shocks you but he is over you in a second. his hand grips your jaw, gaze narrowed. "don't lie." his voice is low in warning. it is hard to keep a straight face when cum is covering his lips and dripping down his face. it makes you flustered completely. his eyes stare into yours as though he is attempting to read your soul.
"m'not lying to you, ken." you shove at his chest but all draken does is grip both your wrists to tug your body down the bed.
he has your legs on either side of his waist and his cock's resting on your stomach. he can see where he will reach once he is inside. his hands caress your thighs, trailing to your hips that he grips lightly.
he leans down to claim your lips, your slick rubbing onto you and resting on your tongue. your body feels weak but your arms wrap around his neck and bring him closer. fingers wound in his hair as you kiss him more desperately, more lovingly. you wish he would believe you, when have you ever betrayed him?
his palm slips between your spread legs, prodding your entrance and you pull away from his mouth with a hiss. you are pushing at his forearm but ken does not approve at all, it is evident in his expression.
"ken, wait for a bit..." you are still unbearably sensitive. he does not see it that way, instead his head tilts, eyes so dark they seem black.
"did mitsuya loosen you up for me?" his tone is covered with anger, he feels sick to his stomach. he is being tortured by images of you and him. ken cannot take it, not at all.
your eyes widen at his words, stilling for a moment. "don't talk to me like i'm some slut." there is a frown tugging ken's lips down. you were doing so well, everything was going so well and now he is upset about things that never happened.
"you are, you were fucking him too." he grits out, jaw clenching tightly. the thought makes him want to throw up. it makes him want to hurt mitsuya for ever putting his hands on you.
"i didn't do that, ken. when did you stop trusting me?" your chest heaves, brows furrowed in dismay.
"since you started being a whore." your lip trembles, eyes filling with tears that burn. your throat feels like if you speak you will break down into tears.
you turn your head away from him, sniffles leaving you as you desperately fight tears. they still coat your cheeks like an endless waterfall.
you did not want to break down in front of him, you did not want him to see how easily he makes you cry. it is too late when you are in his room, on his bed with your heart ripped out of your chest and given to him. your body shakes with sobs, squeezing your lids shut.
"why do you always do this to me?" your voice is broken. the second his fingers stroke your face, you wonder why you always give him this power.
why do you let him him make you cry and break you down without consequence? "because i want you here." he breathes, his large palms encasing your breasts and rubbing at your nipples.
he kisses you even as you cry, even as you sob into his mouth but it is okay because you let him slip his tongue inside.
you are still okay with him biting on your bottom lip and kissing you like this. his touch trails down your stomach to your hips.
a sigh leaves him as he reaches for his hard erection, so much pre cum leaking from his swollen tip. he guides the head between your spread folds.
an excessive amount of slick coating him while he drags it along your opening. your pussy seems to miss him as much as you did because your treacherous body is growing hotter.
you both looking at where he breaches you, your breath catches at the thickness of his head is forced into your gummy walls. "real fuckin tight." ken whistles, his abs tenses because he is seconds away from fucking the entire thing into you.
your cunt is like nirvana, your insides squeeze down on him although he barely put the tip in.
"i missed you." he huffs, his fingers dig into the thick flesh of your thighs, his hips slowly surging forward and making you cry. "c'mon open up, relax for me." he thrusts again, your back arches up.
you whimper his name, ken loves the way you say it. his thumb swipes over the barely there lipstick on your mouth before he is pressing it inside.
your spit filled mouth encloses around the digit and ken grins. his eye brows knit together at the slick sound that comes from your pussy gripping him.
your silky walls are pulsing around him uncontrollably. ken wishes he could be inside you forever. he rolls your clit, your cunt gushing over his cock and he only fucks more of himself into you with each thrust.
your hand presses against ken's abdomen but he is so much stronger. he clicks his tongue. "don't try to run from it. y'know you can take it." his voice is so deep it's almost gravelly. your resistance is trembling.
"i can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me, i know you want more" his thumb slips further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you gag. "i know you want to be stuffed full, you missed it, didn't you?" you nod dumbly.
he thinks you look pretty like this, swollen lips and messy hair. filled with cock and sucking on his thumb like you are made for it. you are, you are made for him.
it takes one particularly hard thrust before he is completely inside of you. his entire cock throbs alongs your pulsing walls, your body tenses because you feel so unbearably full.
you whine, you swear he is nudging your cervix. you can feel him in your stomach, you can see where the head of his cock has it bulging. you moan his name and all it does is make ken smile.
his girth stretches you out so much that it burns. you are left with your chest heaving as he pulls your leg onto his shoulder and he holds the other open.
he can see your cunt spread open around him, your pelvis is flush to his, your insides are holding him so tightly he feels like he can barely move.
his hips slam into you, your body jolts and your legs shake. he leans over, lifting you until your ass is off the bed and fucks you the way he was dying to in all the days you were not with him. "baby, baby, you're perfect" he pants. "got the sweetest cunt."
the lengthy locks of ivory hang on either side of his face, he looks too pretty. you are a whimpering, drooling mess beneath his large frame.
you press on the spot that distends your tummy with each pump of his hips. you both sigh at the feeling. ken is looking at where you are taking him between your legs, where his cock slips in and out completely doused in your juices.
you are met with the chain you got him. it hangs in your face and the anklet he got you is right next to his ear. in mockery, in proof, you are not quite sure.
when draken fucks you like this he wonders why it was so difficult for you to accept that you are his.
your fists find the soaked sheets, your body feels hot and sweat coats your skin. you feel like there is cotton in your head. tears stream down your cheeks and traces of saliva are on your lips. you are always so easily lost in him.
your eyes squeeze shut, he is pounding you into the sheets like you are a sex doll. ken is all you can feel, all you can think about. you sigh in contentment. you are hardly coherent.
"ken, you're so big." you mewl, his fingers dig into your skin, his nails pressing against the flesh.
"yeah? you missed me fucking you? missed having my cock deep in this pussy? pretty girl, all you think about is my dick." you whine and his voice is filled with amusement.
growing breathy the longer he is wrapped in your vice walls and covered in your viscous liquid.
he slams his hips to yours, each dragging you along his length. you can feel his skin sticky everywhere you are touching him.
your cream forms a white ring along the base of his cock and leaks down his balls. "messy." he clicks his tongue. your little body looks so precious under him.
you are taking a cock that is way too big for you but you take it so well.
you always do.
you can hardly think when he is shoving so deep inside that you swear he is bruising your cervix. a light clink and the coldness of metal on your forehead has your eyes opening in confusion.
"ken?" he does not stop moving. your body shakes and you writhe from his brutal ministrations. "you scared, baby?" he grins, his hand comes down to rest on your sternum and he leans over you more.
you are not scared, it should worry you that you are not scared in the slightest.
you trust him with your life.
even as he holds a gun to your head you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid of him.
it should worry you even more that the only thing that generates a reaction from you is him pressing the same gun to his temple.
you jerk.
"stop!" you cannot even reach for his hand when he is holding you down like this. you are so insanely confused.
a new influx of tears streaming from your eyes as your pleas fall on deaf ears. you wish he would stop being reckless.
"isn't that cute? now you care." he pauses his hips, your nails dig into his forearm but draken does not flinch.
he accuses you when he is the only thing you care about, the only thing you ever think of.
"i want to you to know, this is what will happen if you leave me again." your lips part in shock, his eyes are dark. so dark.
there is an overwhelming feeling of worry washing over you.
"ken, this is crazy." your voice cracks as you cry.
"is it?" you are painfully away that his cock is throbbing inside you. "it's crazy that you were running around with some other guy."
"i wasn't, i swear i wasn't."
"are you going to leave me, baby? that's all i need to know." his hand leaves your sternum to stroke your cheek. it is so gentle.
your heart feels like it has taken too much pain to work. "you don't want me." it hurts. it hurts but you know it is true.
drakens lips pulled back in a scowl. his expression is unreadable, he is unreadable. you never understand him.
he applies pressure to the trigger and nausea fills your senses. your scream bloody murder because you have to look at him hold a gun to his head but you cannot do anything. he does not allow you.
"promise you won't leave." he says and you cry, pleading endlessly. you cannot handle losing him in any capacity. you cannot lose him at all.
"m'sorry, please don't" your throat feels so tight, it hurts to speak. "i won't leave so please stop!" you hiccup, holding his hand and praying he can see the desperation in your eyes.
"say it again" his eyes grow hooded, like those words falling off your tongue are music to his ears. you only sob harder.
"i won't ever leave you. i promise i won't." you voice is hoarse and wavering. your eyes do not move from the metal barrel aimed at his head.
you are fretting in worry but ken looks glad. he looks delighted even. the flash of his teeth makes you swallow.
"and you love me?" his head tilts. "i do." you whisper. you have never told him that before.
how could you protect your heart if you were professing your love for him? right now it does not seem to matter.
"i love you, ken. always did." your voice is barely audible, you swear the pounding of your heart is louder than it.
"close your eyes." you shake your head, completely confused. you are terrified.
"do it if you love me." tears leak from your eyes because now you do not have a choice. you shake with sobs as you close your eyes.
"good girl, such a good girl. you're always so perfect for me." draken's body covers yours, his nose nuzzling your face and you cry harder when he kisses your skin.
"please, ken, please, please." your arms wrap around him, fingers finding purchase in his skin because you cannot see him.
"are you scared?" you nod your head with a broken whimper.
"please, ken, i love you. i need you." you cannot see the grin that crosses his face but draken is all too pleased.
his mouth meets your ear "i need you too." you feel an ounce of relief and then the shrill of a gun unloading makes you scream.
it is so loud you instantly feel sick. your entire body trembles, your scream aches your throat and shakes everything in the apartment.
your heart feels like it jumped out of your chest and you are expecting blood or a body but instead you hear draken's low laugh and your eyes open.
"don't leave again or it'll be a bullet." it seems he is finally satisfied. he drops the gun to the sheets and you shove it further away.
his palm cups your cheek and brings your attention back to him. he wipes at your tears, cooing at your miserable expression.
"you only have me to love. remember that." you cannot process his words. your chest is heavy, breathing stuttered by panic. still racked with sobs but you are reaching for him.
his large frame is tugged down over you, practically covering you completely. your leg is pressed closer to your chest. he is so warm, you can feel his skin and remind yourself that he is here.
he causes all your troubles yet he is the only person capable of comforting you. "relax." he coos but it only makes you cry harder.
your body trembles against him but all ken has to do is wrap his arms around you and your worries lessen. "please, never again." because you swear your heart will stop beating if he put a gun to his head for a second time.
he pacifies you with sweet caresses along your hair before he pulls back. he smiles when you whimper, drying your cheeks but they are freshly coated with new tears. you are touching at his skin frantically, anything to remind yourself that he is really with you.
"gonna let me fuck you like you deserve? since you were such a good girl." his eyes do not leave yours, he nods his head and you find yourself nodding along with him despite how far gone your mind is.
draken hums, leaning over you as your legs wrap around his toned waist. he smiles, swiping at your tears, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips before he trails down your neck.
your eyes flutter, breathing finally slowing but a gasp escapes your lips as his mouth encloses your nipple. you swallow hard, thighs tensing around him.
his eyes flick up to yours, face all too smug when his hips begin to rock. his teeth scrape the skin of your nipple, tongue flicking over it as he pulls away.
"like when i play with these cute tits of yours?" you are too flustered, way too dazed and dumb. your head leans away, why does he make you feel like this? his deep voice has your cunt leaking and your heart beating out of your chest.
"don't act shy, your pussy's squeezing me so hard, i know you like it." you do not have a chance to deal with the way his words have settled heat into your bones because his mouth encloses over your throat to leave more marks.
his thrusts are growing faster, rougher and you find yourself melting into a puddle, like dough you become whatever he wants.
you are only capable of moaning his name so prettily that draken's insides grow fuzzy. you are so good, too good. your hand slips into the lengthy strands of his hair.
"ken." you tug him closer, you wonder how much closer he can get than being deep enough to hit your cervix. you want him closer than his lips brushing against yours every time he fucks his hips into yours. you want him closer than the way your nipples are grazing his hard chest.
you want to crawl into his skin and make it your home.
you want him.
you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your tongue slipping into his mouth when you pull him down. you can feel his blunt nails digging into your skin, he is bruising your waist and hips.
spit coats your mouths like gloss. "ken, i love you, i love you." you never said it to him, regardless of the countless times you thought it when you looked at him.
hearing those words roll off your tongue almost makes draken cum instantly. you are finally able to say it and you want to take advantage of it.
"fuck. you're mine. not mitsuya's, not anyone else's." his cheeks are reddened, the sharpness of his thrusts makes your back arch off the sheets. his chest heaves, the brown of his eyes stare into yours "you're mine."
you nod because it is all you ever wanted. you say yes, you sign yourself over to him entirely. you would do it in this lifetime and every single one that came after.
you cannot think at all, your jaw hanging open, your nails digging into his skin. you can feel the sting against your thighs with every thrust. something about the way he crowds over you, so much bigger, covered in muscle makes your insides hotter.
it makes you burn with want and need. your legs wrap around his waist tighter. feeling ken's hand grip your throat. you want him in every way.
you want him to fuck you like this and kiss you sweetly later. you want draken more than you have ever wanted anything else. and draken wants you like that too.
"you're my girl, my slut," he huffs into your face and the whine that leaves you is atrocious. the feeling he stirs up inside you with just those words is insane.
"maybe if i knocked your pretty ass up, you'd stop acting so stupid" he slams his hips into yours, he thrust so hard that he opens up the inside of your gummy walls every time and hits so deep you lose yourself a little bit more.
all draken can think about is pouring load after load into your leaking hole and giving you his baby. all he wants is to pound inside of you until there is no doubt that you will be swollen with his seed.
"huh? if i gave you a baby to take care of, you wouldn't have time to get mad at me" you mewl, your nails dig into his skin. he leans down to messily kiss you. his spit feels sticky in your mouth, he kisses harder, his cock being fucked into you so roughly your head blanks.
"pussy feels so good inside. you're going to take it right? all for me? going to take my cum and keep it in this cute cunt?" you cry when he pounds particularly hard and you can feel every inch of him.
you bob your head in agreement although you have no clue what he says.
"ken i love you so much." you babble, tears leak down your face.
"yeah? i should give you something then, since you're so good. should stuff this tight little hole with so much cum. you want it, pretty baby?" draken flashes you a grin when you nod. your eyes flutter, he pounds his hips harder and harder.
his movements grow uneven, he groans into your face. pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. he loses himself in the feeling of your vice walls squeezing him.
"you'll make such a pretty mommy." his forehead meets yours, you whimper so adorably when you clamp down and your pretty cunt creams all over him.
even then draken does not give you a moment's rest.
he curses lowly, his hips press flush to yours, only pulling out partially before slamming roughly into you. your body writhes with oversensitivity. you claw at his flesh, crying softly.
when he cums you swear it burns. it paints every inch of your walls and the sticky strands of cum seem never ending. it pools in your cunt and seeps around the perimeter of his thick cock.
he is panting over you, his face buried in your neck and your fingers slip into his hair. you stroke it even as he remains inside you. even as ken wraps his arms tighter around you and he presses kisses to your throat. "don't leave." he whispers so softly into your skin that you would have missed it.
"i won't." you mumble back and he huffs a heavy sigh like the reassurance is everything he needs and more. his strong arms squeeze you, fingers taunt on your skin as he coddles you against him. your legs tighten around his waist and you really think that this is what bliss truly is.
he does not want to let you go, he does not want to leave you.
his mouth presses into yours, gently kissing you, he peppers kisses to your face before he leans back. a whine escapes you when he slips his cock from your pussy.
you can feel the cum he kept plugged inside you gushing out and your body tenses. it finally dawns on you what he did. draken's eyes trail from your messy cunt to your expression and he is bothered by the unsureness contorting your features.
he presses a deep kiss to your mouth, almost like he wants to remind you it is him, that it is okay because it's him, that you were going to be with him one way or another. he caresses your face and you pursue your lips as he stands from the bed and goes to the bathroom.
you are stuck in your thoughts, your eyes on him when he reenters the room and he starts wiping you off. you are sore and tired yet you cannot seem to sleep because what does this mean for you and him?
once he is done he climbs into the bed with you, he tucks himself along your side, his bicep your pillow and his nose nuzzling your cheek. you are both still completely bare, his arm wraps around your waist and it is silent for a moment before his deep voice flitters through the air.
"do you think it took?" your brows raise, eyes slightly alarmed. what does he mean by that? you know what he means. you swear it was all in the heat of the moment.
your eyes meet his, "what?" you are exasperated but draken is unphased.
"my seed." it makes a shiver run down your spine. you furrow your brows, you are not sure what you should say.
"i don't know... i don't think so," you cannot picture yourself pregnant, not right now. you never thought he would want that, not with you.
you are surprised by how disheartened he seems.
"we can keep trying." his hand trails along your waist until it sits low on your stomach. you are stunned, you are entirely in disbelief. he gently strokes the flesh while your thoughts are a jumbled mess.
when his gaze meets yours, he smiles. it is too dangerous.
"i hope our baby has your eyes."
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i didn't think this would be so long
i have a nanami fic that's almost done and it is just as long !
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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Any new ideas for congratulations! It's triplets? Love the idea of Jason just freaking out and trying to figure out how to build a relationship with his kids while being made fun of by his family and said kids. Especially if he goes overprotective mode because Danny has clown trauma too and gets snagged by the joker
Jason watches as Danny- his son.- impatiently taps his fingers against the table. His boy's gaze was looking at everything, taking in the big fancy Wayne Mannor with a sort of disinterest he was not expecting of a child so young.
His sister and Brother- both with alarmingly similar names- were also disinterested, but Dani was swinging her legs, and Dan was tapping his spoon and fork against the table in a fast-paced drumming.
It's strange to know he would fidget a lot as a kid but he always resorted to finger tapping. Was the tripples little habit from him? He wonders what else they inherited and what he missed out on seeing.
"I don't understand," Jasmine said, overlooking the contract Bruce's lawyers wrote up. " Why would you want custody now? It's been five years."
"I didn't know." Jason swallows past the lump in his throat as she gives him an unimpressed stare over the paper. He feels Bruce place a hand on his shoulder, and the silent support allows him to continue. "If I have, I wouldn't have ever let them grow up without me."
"Jason doesn't want full custody," Tim cuts in with a soft voice that has tricked lesser men into selling their shares. He and the rest of his family are all sitting across from Jassmin Fenton, as she is carefully lured back to the manor to discuss their next step. "He just wants to be part of his kid's lives and would happily share that with you."
"Not telling him about the kids sort of played into that," Steph mutters tactlessly. Unfortunately, her voice carries, and the woman across from them bristles.
There is a tense moment where he thinks Jassmin is about to curse them all out before she sighs and slumps in her seat. "Well, it wasn't like I had a means to contact you when I found out. You gave me a fake name."
Jason winces. "I sort of forgot I told you my name was Petter."
"Wasn't a total lie" Dani chirps "It is your middle name."
Jasmine rubs her eyes. "Look, Jason, I don't want to stop you from seeing the kids, but this is all too much right now. I'm dealing with a lot right now-"
"You are currently homeless," Damian cuts in, causing Jasmine to stop in genuine bewilderment.
"No, we're not." Dan scoffs. "You were waiting for us at our house. Waiting to ambush us."
"The house that was on the street that Poison Ivy just destroyed," The boy says, showing everyone his phone screen. There, clear as day is, their home is nothing but rumble. Jasmine's face spams, and she quickly checks her phone, paling at what she reads.
"Oh, Ancients. It's gone. It's all gone," She whispers, gripping the phone. The three kids immediately stiffen, watching their mother with strange intensity. Too aware of what this means.
They were mature for their age, and that is never a good thing.
Oh gods. Did his children live on the streets? Had Jason's carelessness hurt his children like his parents have hurt him?
"Mom?" Danny asks and that seems to snap Jasmine out of her spirl.
"Hotel!" She gasps, hands shaking as she quickly starts tapping on her phone. Jason catches a glimpse of her screen and realizes she is making a to-do list. "I have to book a hotel room. Call the insurance company, go and try to salvage whatever we can....what else?"
"You can stay here, Fenton," Damian surprisingly offers. "Until your home is rebuilt"
"We couldn't possibly-"
"Hotels are expensive, and you must focus on other more important needs. Father certainly has the space."
Jason jerks into action. "This will also give me a chance to connect with the kids!"
Jasmine bites her lip, turning to her children. Jason could appreciate that she was willing to include them in big decisions. The three nodded, so she eventually sighs.
"Alright. But only until I can get our housing settled. And I'll pay rent"
Jason would argue but he recognized the look in her eye. She would not be sway from making payments. So he agrees, tapping his fingers on the table in a specific rhythm to make sure his family agrees too.
He knows it pains Bruce- the old man already thinks of the triplets as his grandchildren and the idea of charging them to live with him will kill him.
Jason notices the way Dan's eyes zero in on his tapping and the glance around the family members. He fights a proud grin when realization bleeds into his boy's eyes. He's got a smart one, likely aware of that the tapping is a form of Morse code.
Tim did say- after pulling up all files of the four- that his children had developed insane intelligence. Maybe he should get them tested for certification geniuses.
"Hey Mr. Jason," Dani suddenly speaks up.
"Yes Darling?"
"I suggest you remove your eyes from my mom before I remove them from your face." The little girl even punches her palm in a poor intimidation attempt. His heart melts.
Then his face turns a dark red hue at Jasmine's raised brow. Unwillingly flashes of thier last time being face-to face rise in his mind. He coughs awkwardly as his sons face become as protective as their sister, Dan cracking his knuckles and Danny reaching for a knife.
"Oh yeah" Tim deadpans watching the kids reaction "No need for DNA test. Those are definitely Jason's kids"
He agrees, he just hopes he can show his children he plans on sticking around and being the father they deserve.
No one notices Cass and Steph slip away to deal with Posion Ivy. Jason kinda wants to send her a thank you gift for making it possible to have his family move into the manor.
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Text
1.8k / 24 / soap soulmate au, part 4
...
Price takes a seat opposite you. Ghost stands behind him, massive arms crossed. Price folds his hands together.
"Tea?" he asks.
You say nothing.
"Ghost, go get us some tea."
Ghost leaves. Price examines you, drumming his fingers against the table. He acts friendly. But he's not playing. You have no doubt he'll extract the information he needs by any means necessary. You need to make sure he doesn't figure out which of your buttons to press.
"You're Soap's girl," he says.
You say nothing. His stare presses in on you as heavily as the silence, pushing your back into your seat.
"Who is he to you?"
You shift, uncomfortable in your chair. "A stranger." You roll your shoulders as if trying to shrug off the implications. "An enemy, ostensibly."
Price leans closer. "You kiss your enemies often?"
Not until Johnny walked into your patrol path. 
"Left quite the impression on Soap. You made a bit of a mark on Ghost, too. Not that it’s hard." Price leans back, giving you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "He’s got a soft spot for Soap, hm? So he doesn't want you hurt. Doesn't want Soap put out."
You remain silent, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He studies you, utterly calm. He's trying to read you. It's obvious he has some kind of game plan, and now he thinks you have one, too.
"Weren't quite planning to walk into someone like him, were you? Things happened, didn't they? Things you had to work through."
"No."
"Really. 'Cause with the way you're acting, I'd wager you had different plans for yourself. Now you're all twisted up in this. Plans got ruined because he came along. Maybe you've got your own plans, hm? Got a whole life back home. A career, clearly. Nice little house. Maybe you've got a boyfriend already."
"What do you want?" you grit out.
"Access, love," he says, like this whole interrogation is just a pleasant chat. That new base of yours, the one Graves commandeered. How do you like it?"
"Barely seen it."
"I imagine you're rather busy lately, then. Lot on your mind. Shepherd must have you working hard." You notice a muscle twitching in his jaw. He has an iron grip on his temper. "But you saw enough of it to get a good look around, hm? The layout, the security, the systems. Tell me about it."
"I don't know anything."
"Nothing?" He leans forward again. He doesn't seem to like that answer. "The security cameras. The guards. The patrols. The sensors." His voice is low. "You don't know anything about those?"
"Didn't ask."
"Hm." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as the expression on his face hardens further. "You didn't ask." He repeats. "Didn't ask. Didn't ask..." Then he pauses, staring through you. He leans back again. "No, of course not. You follow orders. You do your job. Can't fault you for that." He speaks with a cool tone, but there's a tightness in the lines of his jaw as he says it. "And now you're here and your buddies are gone. Just you. The only target left." He lets the silence stretch out. "Do you think Graves'll come for you?"
"No."
"Hm. Why not?"
"I'm a nobody."
"Hmmmmm." His smile doesn't change, but the lines around his eyes shift as if he finds that amusing. "And you're perfectly content with that? With knowing that when you walk into that base every day, you'll just be another body for Graves to throw onto the heap?”
You hold his gaze. "Yes."
"You don't think you're worth more than that?"
You say nothing.
The smile is still there, but his eyes narrow. He's judging you. Judging your worth. You hold his gaze. He seems to recognize something in you--that you're telling the truth. You know what you are. You're a mercenary. You're expendable.
"You must have a low opinion of yourself." He sighs, crossing his arms and settling a little further into his chair. "You've accepted you're not walking out of this base, then."
You nod.
Price examines you, eyes narrow and intense. Peeling you apart. You're certainly not an idiot. Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.
Tough to crack, too. He rubs his chin. Hard to threaten someone who doesn't have anything to lose.
Two sharp knocks on the door herald Ghost, who slips back inside and closes the door. He's not carrying tea.
"Might want to pick up the pace," Ghost says. "Soap's back."
You stiffen, as much as you try not to show it.
Price's gaze flicks over to you, noting the tensing of your shoulders. "He knows?"
"Affirmative, sir. Someone outside must've seen her mark and tipped him off."
At that moment, there's a banging on the door. Johnny's voice echoes from the other side. "LT!"
Hearing it is a punch to the gut.
Soap keeps knocking. "Ghost, get yer lyin' arse out here!"
Price looks at Ghost and nods toward the door. "Go on, then, handle it."
Ghost curses under his breath and slips outside.
"Hell's fuckin' bells, LT, what's goin' on?"
Ghost's reply is too low and muffled to catch.
"Busy with what?" Soap snaps. "I know she's here. I need to see her."
Ghost's reply this time sounds harsher.
"Like hell I'm not. That's my goddamned soulmate, aye? My girl. I've got a right to see her. You'll not keep me from the one person in the whole bloody world that's mine."
"Captain's interrogating her." Ghost's tone is low and loud now, a warning. "You don't get special privileges with her."
Soap lets loose a string of colorful curses. You can make out roughly half of them through his accent. "What does Price think she's got that's so bloody important I don't get to know about it?"
"She's a Shadow, Johnny. Chrissake."
"Aye, an' she's in that room goin' it alone. She needs me."
Your heart twists in your chest, and it forces out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It's eating at your resolve. Just hearing him speak about you is making you want things you shouldn't. He sounds like he wants to protect you. Like you're worth something to him. You try to shake it out of your head. You're a prisoner here. This isn't a love story. He doesn’t love you. He doesn't know you.
Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.
His eyes move over you, dissecting you piece by piece, and you feel your expression revealing too much. He saw your mask slip. He saw what you're concealing.
"I'll be damned." His smirk grows. "I thought Shadows were all cold-blooded bastards."
Your mouth twitches like it wants to bare teeth. "Go to hell."
"Ghost," he calls mildly at the closed door, "get in here. And bring Soap, would you?"
No no no no. Panic washes over you. You pull at your cuffs, feeling yourself lapse into a freeze response. Not Johnny. You can't face him. You try desperately to get a grip on your body's reaction, to remember your training.
You turn your head away from the door and fix your eyes on the opposite corner of the room. Among the many rifles and launchers racked on the walls, you find a pistol and you concentrate on it as hard as you can. You study the polish smudged near the mouth of the barrel. The scarred grip.
Behind you, the door opens.
Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.
You feel outside of yourself. Soap seems too fixated on your state of being to notice.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ. What did you rat bastards do to my girl?" he growls.
"She did this to herself," Ghost says. He puts his hand on Soap's shoulder. "And we need her restrained while we question her--"
"Back off," Soap warns, brushing his hand away. "Am not dealin' with you right now."
Price cuts in, voice firm. "Soap, cool off. Now."
Soap's temper flashes hot. His jaw clenches. His muscles tense. But he takes a deep, steadying breath. "Aye, Captain," Soap says. He straightens up, his hands falling away from your face. But it's clear his blood is still simmering. "Permission to remove her cuffs."
"Negative," Price says. Soap starts to say something, but Price cuts him off. "No. She's unpredictable. You know that as well as we do. We can't afford to trust her until we understand what Graves' orders are."
Soap curls and uncurls his fists, evidence of the sheer will he's exerting to keep his feet planted where they are. "And what do you expect me to do? Just leave her here? Not say a word to her?"
That smirk curls Price's lips again. "Quite the opposite. I'd like you to do the talking for us."
Price stands and gestures to Ghost again, and Ghost guides Soap by the shoulder over to him. Soap resists on principle for a moment before his mind catches up and he walks stiffly to the other side of the table.
“She has information we need," Price says. "Alejandro, remember? Once that's squared away, we'll need no hostage. You understand me?"
There's a beat of silence.
"You want me to interrogate her," Soap says.
"I want access," Price replies.
"And once I have the information?"
"Then she’s all yours. You can do whatever you like. Let her go. Hell, drive her to the airport if you want. But until then" --Price's hand lands on Soap's shoulder and pushes him down into the interrogator's seat across from you-- "she doesn't leave this room. You understand?"
You feel Soap's eyes on you.
"Fine. I'll do it. But it's gotta be me and her. No one else. You let me do my job the way I know it needs to be done."
"Hm." Price glances at you. You're still concentrating on the pistol on the far wall. "That's just fine. Ghost, let's give 'em some time alone."
Ghost follows Price out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.
"Sir?" Ghost's voice is low and uncertain.
"Trust me, Soap is the leverage we needed. He'll do just fine.”
Ghost is quiet for a moment. "If he keeps his head on straight."
Price hums in agreement, his smile genuine now. "If he keeps his head on straight."
...
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / [part 4] / part 5
more Soap / masterlist tag
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katakaluptastrophy · 6 months
Text
Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.
He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:
“Did the Sleeper get them?”
“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”
“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.
“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.
And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:
"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”
“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”
“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.
“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”
“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.
Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.
And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:
“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.
Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”
and
“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.
Abigail said, “We need everyone.”
“I never thought he was quite the thing.”
This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.
And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:
She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”
It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.
He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:
“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”
His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.
He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:
“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”
Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.
Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.
And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.
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the-modern-typewriter · 5 months
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Hi! Would you be able to do a hero x villain scene with a villain that's used to trapping their opponents socially but the hero would rather just ignore that and punch them in the face, and the villain is kind of in love and kind of murderous?
The villain staggered back at the force of the punch with a groan of pain. They cupped a hand to their bloody nose.
The villain's various soldiers and lackeys immediately moved to restrain the hero.
"No." The villain held out their other hand. "No."
The lackeys froze, uncertain.
The hero, well-prepared for the possibility of fight, paused too. They shook out their fist, shoulders squared.
"Nice left hook," the villain said, straightening slowly. When they dropped their hand, the break had already healed, leaving only the blood.
"Fuck you."
"Yes, that might help your anger issues."
The hero scoffed. "I don't have anger issues, I just don't like being backed into a corner. I told you what would happen."
"Mm. That you did." The villain's head tilted. "Bold move."
"Clear communication. Do I need to do it some more?"
The villain grinned, letting their blood drip grotesque and feral across their teeth. They took a swaggering step forward, even as they neatly adjusted their outfit and rumpled hair back to the veneer of polite society. It didn't reach their eyes. Their eyes had that wild quality too, burning bright and fierce with something that the hero couldn't quite read.
"People generally prefer me when I keep things civil," the villain said. "It's neater. Safer for everyone involved."
"You mean, people normally cave because they're scared of you?"
"And you're not."
"If there's going to blood, let there be blood. I won't be bullied. Certainly not by the likes of you."
The villain laughed, a soft and rumbling danger. They swiped their tongue across their teeth, cleaning the blood away, and closed the distance with another step.
Apparently, they hadn't learned the dangers of getting too close.
The hero swung.
That time, the villain dodged, driving their knee deep into the hero's gut.
The hero doubled over, wheezing.
The villain caught a fistful of their hair, using the grip to smash the hero's face in one startlingly deft movement, before tipping the hero's head back before the blood splattered across the floor.
The whole room had gone quiet; focused in on the two of them. Someone had cut the music.
The villain grinned again. "So pretty."
The hero spat blood at them, but the villain didn't seem to mind. In the next instant, the hero had wrenched themselves free with an expert move.
The two of them circled.
The villain did not have a reputation for violence, or at least not for getting their hands dirty. They were a sleek monster, crafted of fine clothes and the clink of glasses and clever words in the shadowy backrooms that ruled the world.
"You're right," the villain said. "I do prefer less...crude games, than this. We're a civilized species. We should know better. Do not mistake my distaste for incapability, though."
The hero snarled. "Silvered words doesn't make what you do less ugly."
"A moral high ground doesn't make you less of a brute, gorgeous."
"I'm not a brute, you condescending-"
"-temper, temper." The villain's voice was a purr. "Have I struck a nerve?"
The hero lunged.
The villain dodged.
They circled again, more evenly matched than the hero had expected. They'd thought a hard hit, the possibility of real danger, would reveal the villain's sniveling heart. The cowardice at the core of so many powerful, evil people.
"You owe me an apology," the villain said. "I was having a perfectly lovely time. If you give me one now, like a good little hero, this doesn't have to get...unpleasant."
"Your face is unpleasant. Everything about you and what you do is unpleasant. I'd rather not lie."
The villain's eyes flashed, a mix of rage and desire. Then, their power lashed out. The windows shattered. People screamed. People fell.
The hero stared around the room, horrified.
"Far be it from me to deny a guest," the villain said, drawing their power back to themselves. "Let there be blood."
The fight escalated from there.
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walpu · 2 months
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Hellohello, peeking from the corner
And dropping by to request Aventurine x reader that likes to give him trinkets and souvenirs from their travels.
And then one day they came with Ashy Paste/Grey Bean Paste version of them and him together all smiley faced and all.
(Fun fact, from a leak: Aventurine's actual name is Kakavasha. Fun fact 2: Kakava is a celebration event of the Romani people)
- 🪽
Aw it's such a cute request 😭 shaking crying asking hoyo to make the second part of the cats event with penacony and belobog characters
I've seen the leaks about his name and the meaning behind it since I'm literal insane about this man. Honestly this is such a pretty name 🥹
Hope you'll enjoy reading this 🌸
giving Aventurine Ruan Mei's cat creations that resemble the two of you
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characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, was written with the established relationship in mind but works for pre-relatioship stage as well, no beta see I'm capable of writing something other than angst
First of all, he absolutely adores it when you give him small gifts from your travels.
It's a reminder that you care about him enough to think of him when he's not around.
And while yes, it's obvious that you care, it's nice to know that you care enough to go out of your way to do something for him.
He's a miserable man with no friends okay even the small trinket is enough to make him happy.
Keeps them safe and takes care of each and every gift you give him. Brings some a lot of them with him to casino or/and to his business meetings, claiming that those are his lucky charms.
If it's a peace of jewelry then he would not hesitate to buy several sets of clothes just to have numerous outfits specifically to show off your gift.
If it's some unusual gift then he would not leave you alone until you tell him where did you get it.
Speaking of unusual gifts. He certainly didn't expect that your visit the Herta Space Station will result in you bringing with you two... cat thingies?
At first he simply doesn't get it. It's a bit impractical for you to get a pet since you're traveling so much, no?
But then he notices. Something.
"Darling, call me a delusional romantic but don't they resemble us, hmm?"
When you tell him that those cat thingies are, in fact, creations of Ruan Mei herself, and you just accidentally helped her to creat two cats that resemble you two, he can't help but laugh.
"Ah, sugar, seems like it's not just me who is a helpless romantic. So you've missed me that much that you made are a cat just like me, haha?"
You explain to him that you didn't actually adopt them, Ruan Mei just let you take them with you for some time to examine how socialization with others outside if the Herta Station may affect them.
At first he thinks it's for the best, since, once again, it's impractical to keep them as pets.
Spoiler warning he'll pout and whine when it's time to return them to Ruan Mei.
Loves observing them. Like genuinely adores doing it. Especially if it's the cat that resembles you. Would pester you to take a look every time the cat acts like you.
Would probably feel a bit uncomfortable around the Aven!cat but eventually would warm up to him as well. Mostly because he'll notice how much the reader!cat loves him.
Takes a lot of pictures of the cats together and sends them to you.
"Us <з" "Yeah well they were literally made after us so..." "Uuuussss 😚😚😚"
You know how a lot of cat thingies were talking in high pitched voices? Yeah he would chuckle and pester you to try to talk like that as well.
Lmao but imagine Aven!cat saying something about risks and gambling and benefit etc etc in this high pitched voice. Aven himself would probably chuckle and say something like ”haha little guy knows what it's all about” but would sulk if you'll tease him about it.
Would probably try to buy them from Ruan Mei afterwards lol
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kiame-sama · 3 months
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Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) 3.5
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Warnings; Mention of suicide, Alastor has questions, talk of sexuality, fem pronouned reader, more rules of the deal,
(thought about making it NSFW, but didn't know if anyone would feel so inclined to read it or not)
~~~~~~~~
You were in the room you and Alastor shared in the Hazbin Hotel. He was seated by his dinner- a rotting deer carcass- and enjoying his feast before the battle sure to come from heaven and the exorcists in what seemed like only hours from then. Your joint visit back to cannibal Town and to Rosie with Charlie was a fruitful one and you did always like seeing Rosie.
"So, my Darling, you seemed amused by Rosie's comment earlier to me and even agreed with her on it. This means you understand it and would certainly not mind explaining it to me, right?"
Alastor loved to phrase his orders like questions as if you ever had the choice to not answer him truthfully. Due to your deal you couldn't lie to Alastor without him knowing, so the few times you chose to bend the truth had to be well worded and done with great mental effort. This wasn't worth that mental effort.
"Miss Rosie called you an 'Ace in the hole' meaning she believes you are asexual."
"I have a sex, Doe. I am male."
"Not your physical sex, it means you don't experience sexual attraction. You're not driven by carnal desire like others are. You don't feel that libido driven need based on appearance or outward characteristics. Pretty sure it means you don't have much of a libido at all."
"Well, I am not greatly interested in the pleasures of the flesh, that is true. But asexual appears to be in reference to one being without sex, I believe my experimentation earlier with you is a testament against that notion."
You felt the vague desire to chuckle, knowing Alastor was rather forward when it came to you so long as the two of you were behind closed doors.
"Just because you have had sex doesn't mean you aren't asexual, Alastor. Plenty of people who are ace have sex and are still ace, they just don't experience the drive to keep having sex or the libido others experience regardless of if they choose to do it again or not."
"Hm. So what is your sexuality then, my Dear?"
You paused for a moment, looking over at him from where you sat on your shared bed. It was true that Alastor had approached you regarding sex before, but every time he was driven by curiosity and not by genuine sexual desire. He was a curious sort and thus he sought to answer the questions he had however he felt comfortable doing. Part of you was sure he was aromantic as well and he only had whatever it was with you because of his desire to act how he thought he should act.
"I... Don't know, actually. You know that I died by... by my own hand. I never really got around to figuring that out."
"What would your interactions with me make you?"
"Straight. Or, wait, actually I think it makes me Demi."
"Demi?"
"Demisexual. Not really based on the male female binary but more like someone who is ace but begins feeling that sexual attraction after connecting with that other person on a mental and emotional level first. Not a primary sexual attraction based on appearance or observable characteristics, but one based off of emotional and mental connection."
"And I will be your only, understood?"
"I know, Alastor. We still have our deal and I don't intend to try to break it any time soon. Besides, what's a good radio host supposed to do without his microphone?"
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