Daddy Dearest

Oracle!Reader Part 1

Masterlist - Part 2

A light zap of electricity made your cheek tingle, urging you awake. Sleepily, you opened your eyes and were greeted with a rundown room with no furniture. The strange sight woke you up immediately and you sat up.

What the hell? This isn't your home, fuck, this doesn't even look like somewhere in your city!

As you surveyed the surroundings with more urgency, thoughts of the day before came to mind.

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You were only supposed to drop off the money from the scams to your boss. Your forte wasn't fighting yet when you entered the rundown building, there was tension in the air.

Your boss glowered at the woman across the room. Before you could even ask one of your coworkers what's happening, guns were drawn. In less than 5 seconds the building became a mess of fighting, gun shots, and noise.

Trained instincts of running kicked in and you were already slipping past brawls trying to get to the nearest exit. The money was already dropped off, your boss couldn't hold shit against you.

Just as you got close to the window, a lanky man shoved you. You only stumbled back and raised your fists. You didn't like to fight but after years of living less than legal, you've learned how to fight long enough to escape.

In 10 minutes you were already walking down the sidewalk with bloody knuckles and a bruised foot. The other guy must be worse since you threw him into the window before escaping.

It's just your luck that a police car pulls up beside you. Stopping, you flash a smile to the officer as he rolls down the window.

"Sorry to bother you so late but I noticed that you're a little hurt. Do you need me to bring you to a hospital?"

What he's really asking is what got you hurt, but you keep your cool and answer with cheeriness.

"It's really nothing. I was just at the bar down the street with a friend when some people started getting rowdy. They got kicked out before anyone could really get hurt but I still got a little banged up."

You point to the bar that you passed by that's in full swing. The officer eyes you for a moment before asking a follow-up question.

"And what about your friend? Where are they, are they okay?"

Your tone drops a little as you reply. "Their wonderful partner picked them up so I left. I mean it's not like I have any lover to pick me up. What can a poor single person like me do?"

The officer instantly becomes bored and says a quick goodbye before driving off. You roll your eyes at the predictable action and continue walking home. Lying has become a natural habit for you and you've become damn good at it.

You finally get home to your shitty studio apartment in the seedy part of the city. Locking the door, you trudge to your computer as you ignore the screams from other apartments. You boot it up and start eating the cheap fast food you picked up.

First you check on the scam ads you posted to see which poor sucker fell for it. You forward the card information to another coworker and consider yourself done with work for the day.

Were you a bad person for being a scam artist? Yeah. Did you wish that you could have a normal job that doesn't involve hurting people? Hell yeah. Have you ever been able to? Nope.

You click the little Paimon app to run Genshin to distract yourself from those meaningless thoughts. You've been stuck in those loops long enough to know it's useless to dwell on them.

The mindless commissions are just what you need to relax. You smile at the sight of Bennett's idle before farming for the most annoying materials; Handguards.

You finish combing through most of the Inazuma islands before teleporting to Seirai Island. The statue of the seven heals your party from any damage that occurred.

Leaning back in your chair, you stretched your arms, sighing as the tension is released from your body. Deciding to turn in for the night, you exit out of Genshin.

Well, you tried at least.

No matter how many times you clicked, it just wouldn't exit. Brushing it off as a bug, you just shut down the device.

Instead of shutting down, the screen showed the doors to Celestia. With no prompt, the doors opened and the white flash shined into your eyes.

Cringing at the harsh light you waited for it to stop.

It didn't.

It got brighter and brighter before it completely enveloped you.

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Feeling more awake after remembering, you look around the house. Other than the creaky bed you were on, nothing else was in the house. You stand up and nearly trip over a bag at your feet.

Opening it, you find nothing but you decide to take it just in case. That's when you notice that your knuckles are completely healed. No blood, bandages or pain.

You check your body and see that although scars have remained, all your minor cuts and bruises have healed without a trace. Feeling creeped out you try to leave the house. The nearly broken door takes a good amount of strength to push open but you do and stumble out.

The sight of purple thundering skies, floating rocks, and a statue of the seven shocks you. You stumble on the squeaky plants and hard cobblestone as you get closer to the edge.

White trees with purple leaves, blue grass and Naku Weed surround the ground. It's the same area where you tried to log off. There was no way you were in Genshin Impact; Shit like this only happens in fiction.

Hallucination, death, dream, or pulled into a fictional world. Your mind whirls those four possibilities. You stomp on what should have been your bruised foot. It's painful, but not as much as a bruised foot.

With death and dream off the list you walk to the small tree with purple leaves. An Otogi tree, your mind helpfully supplies. You press a hand against the bark and feel the leaves carefully. The sensation is too real and you're too steady to be hallucinating.

You must really be in Tevyat. You were never attached to Earth but being suddenly thrust here is still a bit jarring. You look at the statue of the seven and contemplate your next decision.

From what you remember, anyone who isn't from Teyvat should be allowed to take elemental power from the statue. Biting your lip you approach the statue and place a hand on the gold accessories.

You marvel at how the statue glows at your presence but when you look at your hands, you feel no difference. It seems you wouldn't be a main character in this world either.

Shrugging it off, the excitement of actually being in Teyvat started to well up inside you. You walk down the desecrated dirt and cobblestone path as you admire Seirai Island.

While walking you freeze at the sight of two Fatui soldiers at a camp. You could fight people and escape, but Fatui soldiers? Fuck no. You didn't plan to die this fast.

You sneak along the houses to your left all while trying to remember Seirai's layout. If you wanted to survive in this world, you would need to get to civilization. You needed a boat cause there was no way in hell you were swimming in water that could be struck with lightning at any moment.

You follow the left path that seems to lead to the shore. Fuck, a mirror maiden is walking the same path right towards your direction. With some fast thinking and only a small dose of panic, you scale the rocks on your right.

They were thankfully small enough that your minor skills could be utilized well enough. Breathing heavily, you lay down on the soft blue grass. You close your eyes and open them swiftly at something tingly but smooth on your nose.

It's an electro Crystalfly. Purple and beautiful. You lay there mesmerized before it flies off gently. You stand up in a daze and struggle not to blindly follow it.

You walk along the cliff's edge while being careful not to fall. You can't risk going onto the grass in fear of a spector chasing you. Yet another thing that can end your new life.

Once far away enough from the mirror maiden, you slowly climb down and feel relieved at not breaking a bone. The path splits into two and you contemplate which one would lead to the Waverider.

Logically you know the chance of the waverider working for you was small, but the chance of you finding an intact boat was even smaller. Your train of thought is broken by the sounds of machines whirring from the right path.

You curse yourself and start sprinting down the left path to get away. Forgetting the existence of Ruin Sentinels almost cost you your life, but due to your panic, you almost sprinted straight into a different Ruin Sentinel.

Skidding to a stop, you hastily walk around it while sweating bullets. Thankfully it didn't notice you and you praise your good luck. You walk more alert to the waverider but stop at the teleport waypoint.

Out of simple curiosity, you touch the teleport structure. It glows similar to how it did in the game. But instead of red turning blue, the blue turned gold.

A smile forms on your face as your mind races with the possibilities that this could mean. Excitedly, you run to the waverider and touch it. Its blue turns gold and a boat is summoned onto the water.

It's not the same boat as the travelers, in fact you would even say it's better. Climbing into your boat you marvel at how much space it has. There is a small screen in the middle with a handprint.

There is no steering wheel or any other controls. You put your hand on it and say the first island that comes to mind. "Take me to Kannazuka Island."

The boat begins to move and you sit down on the couch. The whole boat feels luxurious to the point where you feel out of place; as if you're the sole piece of dirt on it.

But you don't have to be trash anymore. This world is kinder to people that couldn't finish school or can't stay in one spot. You wanted to try a normal job, maybe set up a stall or shop. Work as a normal, legal worker, or even become an adventurer. If reckless Pallas could do it, surely you could.

No more lying, no more crime.

The boat stops and you get off as you try to remember which part of the island you stopped at. There's a waverider and a teleport waypoint close together. That's on the right side of the Tatarasuna also known as the place where Kunikuzushi died and became Scaramouche.

After tapping both the waverider and teleport waypoint, you walk closer to the main part of the island. You remember farming this place for the handguards which explains why there is no Nobushi.

After passing the broken down ship part, you spot a tree with lavender melon. Excitedly and with hunger you get close and pick the lowest hanging fruit.

It's juicy and unlike any fruit you've eaten before. Which isn't a lot since fruit is expansive. You stroll down the shore as you finish the fruit.

You recognize the area on the left as a place where a quest had a fight. Walking on it you smile at seeing it in person. It's really amazing how you're actually here. And holy shit is that Ei?

The archway made of rock that leads into Tatarasune has Ei standing right there. You freeze and your breathing slows down as you try not to be noticed.

Ei was a complex character meaning that she will cause a lot of trouble for the peaceful and lawful existence you planned to live here.

As you try to walk away casually you hear her mutter something interesting.

"I could have sworn I felt their presence somewhere here."

Ei locks eyes with you making you freeze. You should greet her with her long ass title but there was no way you remembered that. Instead you give a small bow and speak politely.

"Please forgive my intrusion. I hope I haven't-"

"How dare you."

"I'm sorry wha-"

"Who are you? Which nation are you from? How dare you show such disrespect toward Their Holiness?!"

Her glare is firm and her voice grows louder. Gaping at the sudden hostility, you take a step back when she starts to pull out her Musou-no-something.

Ei's words are barely registered in your brain as you scramble for a way to escape.

"Someone with the same face as the creator is an anomaly. No one has ever been born with their face yet you, a mere human mortal, has it. I shall sacrifice you to them for impersonating the creator's image."

It's like her one track mind as a soldier has taken over Ei again. You yell the first thing that comes to mind that can help you escape while pointing behind her.

"OH MY GOD, IS THAT MAKOTO YOUR TWIN SISTER?!"

Ei freezes and immediately whips her head to look behind her. You don't hesitate to book it back to the boat.

'Just keep running, just keep running.' You sing frantically to yourself as you hear Ei chase after you. You yelp in pain when lightning starts striking your heels with every step.

She's toying with you, you realize. She wants to know how you could possibly know about her sister. She won't kill you yet but you know she won't hesitate to harm you severely.

The boat comes into view and you jump into it. The water that you splashed in, in your hurry makes your feet hurt more.

"Do you think that boat can protect you from me?"

You sit on the floor and try to think up a solution but the pain coursing through your body is hindering you. But you already know that you can't drive the boat or else she'll destroy it.

"Tell me how you know her name. How do you know her connection to me? How much more do you know about us?"

None of your regular tactics can work on her, not without risking death. You look at your lap for some kind of solution and notice your hands glowing. A small plan begins to form and instead you answer her with a distraction.

"Do you truly believe that I'm the only person alive that knows about her?"

Ei goes silent and you take advantage of the time to try to figure out what's happening with your hands. As much as you hope you gained elemental powers, you doubt that it can actually help you when an archon is trying to harm you.

You feel like spiderman as you make various hand gestures with your hands trying to figure out what the deal is with the glowing. It's the simple gesture of putting your hands together and pulling them apart that makes the glowing leave your hands and form a small screen.

"Did Celestia send you down here? Did you have a mission from them to use the Creator's form to dig up information?"

As the screen glows white and shows the Genshin Impact logo, your breath hitches. Your only hope is to let Ei draw her own conclusions from your answers as you hope your new power can help you.

"Celestia, huh? If Celestia themself took on the form of the Creator for their plans, do you think they would succeed?"

Thunder strikes louder after you say that. The logo leaves and shows the traveler on the beach in Mondstadt. You don't think about the weirdness of that before teleporting Lumine to where you are at.

"What are you implying-"

Ei's words are cut off as the sound of teleporting rings through your ears unlike the game audio has ever done before. On the screen the traveler stands next to a gold teleport waypoint with Ei nowhere to be seen. You smile at the implication.

You look out the boat and don't see Lumine there. You look back at the screen only to find it gone. You make the gesture and the screen reappears. It's only when you look away from the teleport waypoint that the screen finally loads.

Lumine is still standing next to the gold teleport waypoint. After teleporting her back to the beach you close the screen. With the Ei threat somewhat subdued, you feel safe enough to collapse on the couch.

Lazily you tell the ship to sail to Narukami Island, Ei would still come after you. Anywhere is better than your present location. An idea forms in your mind and you clarify. "Bring me to Amakane Island."

Your mind processes the information of a Creator, your resemblance, the screen, and new threats. The first step is clear as day. The little shop on Amakane Island that sells masks is your first stop.

Hello anybody that reads this. I have started another fic series. Again. There is a large chance that I'll get burnt out and not finish it. But I hope you enjoyed this. The next chapter should have what I really wanted to talk about which is Oracle!Reader.

Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl [Edit: This chapter has been updated by my dear editor on 8/19/23]

Giving In (to the Love): Once More to See You

4th chapter

SUMMARY: Being in her presence had an unclear effect on you, but how far would you allow yourself to go with it? WC: 3K PAIRING: Vi x Fem!Reader WARNINGS: alcohol, underage driving, miscommunication A/N: let's pretend we didn't watch the last episode of arcane girls Previous chapter

Waking up to another headache from drinking had you thinking you really needed to refuse having your glass refilled. You sit on the bed and take in your surroundings, it was strange to wake up at someone else's bedroom, someone you barely knew.

As you were getting up, you could hear laughter coming from the living room. Your phone was still on the night stand so you grabbed it and opened the door.

"So you just punched him?” a familiar voice asked.

"Yeah, had to—" Violet turned her head around and saw you standing by the door frame, she was about to grab a cup from the cupboard, "Morning, sunshine."

"Good morning," you answer while she's filling the cup with coffee, then hands it to you, "Uh..."

"Cait made it, don't worry," she says when she sees your face twisted in disgust, the clear memory of a coffee made by Violet still haunting you.

"Cait?" you ask in confusion then walk to the table and see your best friend sitting with her own cup of coffee between her hands. Caitlyn greets you and smiles, "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I had to bring some stuff and Vi told me you were here, so I stayed," she replies and takes a sip at her coffee. You nodded in response and drank your own coffee, listening to them chatting about what happened last night with that costumer Violet had to kick out.

Your headache wasn't as painful anymore but you could feel your body asking for water. Just when you were about to ask Vi for it, she hands you a bottle and winks at you. Feeling your cheeks already warm, you thank her and drink, your throat getting finally hydrated and more fresh. Caitlyn was watching you curiously, seeing your face heated up after that small interaction with Violet but she said nothing about it. Instead, she finished her coffee and got up from her seat, saying she had to go back to work or else Marcus would literally kill her.

"Already?" Violet asked her, getting up herself and grabbing her keys while Caitlyn walked to the door.

"Yes, but I'll text you the rest of the details later." Caitlyn says before waving you goodbye and walking out of the apartment with Violet behind her.

You sit there in silence, staring at the mug; it had little drawings on it, very colorful just like the ones hanged on the wall downstairs, and one single letter "V" on the side. Was this Violet's mug? Maybe her sister made it for her, it certainly was a few years old, you could tell the colors were a bit washed out.

While you were inspecting that, something on the table catches your attention; an envelope directed to Violet, sealed with a stamp you'd recognize anywhere. It was the Kiramman's stamp. Your stomach twists in a knot and you grab the envelope, refusing to believe Caitlyn would write a letter to Violet. It seemed impossible, you knew Caitlyn, she wouldn't do that kind of thing for a random person— so this meant they were really close, for her to even use her family stamp on it.

"Why do I even care?" you think to yourself, unable to figure out the reason behind this awkward feeling, but you couldn't stop looking at the envelope, a million questions going through your mind at the same time.

The door slides open and you rapidly leave the envelope where it was, your heart beating fast at the sight of Violet walking in. She catches your fast movement and looks at you confused but she shrugs it off and walks to be beside you, holding herself with one hand on the back of your chair. Being this close to each other was too much for your nervous system.

"So," she begins, "shall we get into it, cupcake?" Feeling blood rushing to your cheeks and your heart beating faster than before, you stare at her in disbelief, unable to formulate a single word, and her eyes widen. She laughs outloud and covers her face with one hand, you couldn't understand what was so funny for her while you were feeling like your heart was a little bird trying to get free from your ribcage. After a few minutes of hysterical laughter from her, she clarifies, "I meant studying."

Oh God.

That did nothing to help you calm down, you felt so stupid and embarrassed. What were you even thinking? Of course she meant studying, that's why you were here in the first place. That was the whole reason you got to meet her at all.

You let out an awkward chuckle and nod, then go grab your bag and take out the same things you used the day before for her tutoring. Taking your previous seat, you start your lesson.

The red light was on as Caitlyn waited, her hands on the steering wheel and her fingers softly hitting on it; her brain was working a thousand miles per hour, trying to figure out a strategy for the case she was currently assigned to. She could hear her mother in the back of her head, saying "You have to earn all of this."

Once the red light turned to green, she continued driving to the office. Looking for a place to park wasn't difficult, she had her own special spot, a big hand-written like sign with her name on it. She got out of the car and sighed, looking up at the building with her eyes furrowed; it was still on remodelation, some of the letters were missing and the new door gave an imponent feeling, it was beautifully hand-made, its frame had little details of gold and the thin windows on both sides allowed the insides to be seen. Of course, you couldn't miss the big 'CK' carved on the panels of the door.

Although her relationship with her mother was a bit rough on the edges, she had to give it to her— she had amazing taste. Remodelating was Cassandra's idea, she thought giving a new image would suit the firm, she wanted to tell they were not stuck in the past. They were moving forward. And that's something Caitlyn agreed on completely.

Caitlyn was greeted with a pile of papers laying on her desk and a little note saying "Quick" on its side. She was tired of this meaningless paperwork, but knowing that if she could finish it early then Marcus would let her dive fully into what really mattered: her new case.

It wasn't long ago she was assigned to it after tiredlessly trying to convince her boss; he had said she wasn't experienced enough so he would look for someone else to assist him, but if Caitlyn had a remarkable virtue— or flaw, it was her stubborness. In the end, he ended up agreeing to make use of her unexperienced assistance under the condition of overworking her with all that meaningless paperwork.

To no one's surprise, Cassandra wasn't fond of the idea of Caitlyn helping such a delicate case like this. She prefferred her to dedicate her education and time to more lucrative ones, or like she calls them, "educational"; cases where her daughter would have to defend wealthy tycoons who spent their lives taking advantage of their privileges to commit crimes or abuse their position.

"Hurry up, Kiramman." Marcus was standing by the door, watching Caitlyn carefully as she wrote down on her notebook. She nodded without taking her eyes off the papers, her hand working rapidly on those letters. "Take those to my office once you're done."

She heard his footsteps getting away and stopped for a minute, it felt like she had been working all day on this and it was barely half way done. Looking at the little clock on her desk, it was a bit past lunch time and her stomach was growling at her, pleading for something more than just the coffee she had for breakfast.

Putting her pen down, she got up from her seat and walked towards the cafeteria. One of the requests she had made to her mother when she offered her the job was to treat her like any other intern, no cafeteria privilege either, so she got in line like everyone else and waited for her turn to order.

Once her sandwich and, of course, coffee were ready, Caitlyn took a seat near the window. Her mind was too focused on her case of interest, she felt personally and emotionally involved— which under no circumstance should happen, but it did and she couldn't stop thinking about it. Being able to help such a dear friend of hers was worth all the effort and extra hours she had to do.

Violet broke into her life by coincidence. Actually, more like by a literal accident; Caitlyn almost got crashed by Vi's little sister who had decided she wanted to drive Vi's motorbike and so she did. While Caitlyn was parking her car in front of her best friend's building, she heard someone yelling at her and before she could react, the little blue haired teenager crashed her open door. After many half apologies and some insults from Jinx, Caitlyn was taken to The Last Drop to meet the real owner of the vehicle.

She was already familiar with the place but only from outside, never dared to cross the door given its reputation and the prejudice she carried in the back of her mind, always present. Violet actually apologized to her and reprimended her younger sister, called the inssurance and made sure to give Caitlyn everything she needed to make the claim and then offered her a drink.

That afternoon, after some disgusting coffee made by Violet, was life changing for her. They chatted and Caitlyn found out they took a few classes together, but they never met each other because of Vi regularly skipping. Her never ending curiosity served to make Violet tell her a bit about her life and the bar, she said that it has been closed for a few days due to a tragedy and her ownership was at stake since someone named Silco wanted to sue her for it.

It didn't seem fair that Violet should lose her father's legacy because of an old society that held no legal weight, so Caitlyn offered to help. She put the accident aside and decided this was the reason for her to be working in the firm, these were the kind of cases she wanted to work on; she wanted to help people as much as she could.

Those memories stood deeply in her heart even now as she was finishing her sandwich. She returned to the office more motivated than before and kept working, hoping Marcus wouldn't bother her until it was finished.

Violet waved goodbye to her tutor and closed the door behind her, walking upstairs and getting into her apartment again. It was late in the afternoon and she'd have to open the bar soon and prepare everything to receive the usual customers.

Not many people went drinking during the week days but the ones who did were always at The Last Drop, ready to spend the rest of the night sulking or causing trouble; Vi didn't mind that, she got used to dealing with drunk men and was happy to show them some moves and kick them out. They always came back and apologized once they were sober, then asked for their usual drinks again.

Even though she spent most of her day studying and taking notes, she felt refreshed and full of energy— it didn't feel tiring or draining, the way her tutor explained different concepts and stated the connection between them, how she would prepare actual drinkable coffee for both of them; Violet would make an exception and have some as well, then watch how the other girl's face twists when she realizes her coffee is too hot and burns her tongue a bit, looking back at Vi and laughing.

The little breaks they took in between allowed Violet to get to know her a bit better, to ask about her interests or listen to her anecdotes, her complains about some of the classes which were proving to be harder than expected; she paid more attention to that than the lesson itself. When she cried that night, it had moved Violet— she wasn't expecting that kind of reaction after joking about what Powder used to say, and although the girl was sobbing, she didn't take pity on neither of them, she didn't make any comment about how sorry she was or how strong Violet must have been to deal with any of it, she just cried and then laughed at herself for being too drunk.

She checked her phone and saw a text from Powder, saying "Ooooout tonight sis!" and sighed, then received a second one from Ekko telling her that he had invited her sister over to watch Scream's whole saga and eat burgers. Rolling her eyes at how dramatic her younger sister was and how much she enjoyed making her worry, she put her phone away and got into the shower.

Hot water dripping down her body was all Violet needed before work so after being all cleaned up, she got changed into her usual bartender attire, a black shirt and trousers, and headed downstairs. She turned the neon lights on and played some music, then opened the doors and stayed behind the counter, waiting for people to start coming in.

Her mind drifted for a bit, remembering she wouldn't have the next lesson until next week. That bumped her down a little, she was hoping it would become a regular thing, like part of her routine, since she already got used to having her tutor around— which was unsettling.

"She's just doing her job." She reminded herself while pouring whisky on a glass for her own delight. Violet knew she enjoyed her company but wasn't sure what her tutor thought of her; she seemed a bit awkward when they were together, avoiding her gaze or fidgeting. Perhaps she didn't like her that much since Violet did post that embarrassing picture of her after all.

Vi grabbed her phone and instantly deleted that post she had made the night of the party, not caring anymore about the exams or the tutoring lessons, all she wanted was to at least befriend that girl. She thought about asking Caitlyn, but what would she even ask about? Why did she care so much?

She decided to take matters into her own hands and stop acting like an anxious teenage girl, so she typed a simple question and clicked to send it then immediately put her phone down. God, what was wrong with her?

You were completely exhausted, combining tutoring and studying for your own classes was taking its toll on you. It was a relief Violet understood you would be busy for the rest of the week since you were far behind on some key topics for the upcoming tests.

"Keep reading this last book and take notes." You had told her earlier before leaving her apartment.

"I'll surprise you, cupcake." She had answered, making you blush with that stupid nickname.

Your exams should take priority, you knew that, but part of the reason you decided to take a break from her was because of the envelope— you felt completely out of place, Violet had some kind of effect on you which was unclear to you just yet, but you didn't want to get in between anything. If there was something going on between her and your best friend.

Taking the left overs from the fridge, you take a seat on the couch and turn on the TV. Your mind was far away and you couldn't pay attention to the romcom playing in front of you, these people were so lucky it made you envious.

On the little table beside the couch, your phone made its particular sound alerting someone had sent you a message. You unlocked it and scrolled through your notifications; most of them were from group chats, people taking the same classes as you discussing which topic was more likely to appear in the exam and helping each other with some questions. You keep scrolling until your best friend's name pops up, she had texted you last night when you were completely wasted at Violet's place, saying she still needed your help with her current case and asking when would you be available for that. Sighing heavier than needed, you answer that she was welcome to bring food this weekend and you'd be happy to assist.

Guilt was flooding your senses, it wasn't fair to Caitlyn that you were feeling like this— she hadn't done anything wrong. Who could blame a girl for having a life? Certainly not you. But you just wanted to know what was going on without coming off as nosy, which you were.

She replied straight away saying she'd bring your favourite food as a way of thanking you. Laughing at her exaggeration, you keep scrolling until one message makes your eyes widen. It was from Violet. Your heart pace quickened as you read her text, which said "wanna come see me boxing this weekend?"

Unable to difere a thought from another, you stare at the little letters on your screen uncapable of believing she would invite you anywhere. Did this mean you were getting closer? Maybe she just wanted to fill an empty space cheering for her.

"Sure, should I bring a cheering sign?" You asked jokingly, trying to act cool and less like a nervous mess.

"make it pink and bright." Violet replied almost instantly, making you laugh softly in the solitude of your apartment. You definitely didn't care about studying anymore, this was all you were looking forward to now.

"I'll be your number one fan then."

"you better." Smiling to yourself at her answer, you decide to head to bed and sleep everything off.

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Happy pride Lawlighters 🖤🏳️‍🌈🤍

× even the gods bleed

× info [ sagau + imposter au + focalors + neuvillette ] × warnings [ spoilers for neuvillette + vaguely mentioned blood & injury + very minor angst ] × word count [ 2.3k ]

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

just a pretty face part four (pre-relationship)

summary: let me explain !! warnings: angst, talk of drinking, talk of food, suggestive, language, slut shaming, 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact, not proofread incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, shiu, sukuna, choso, ino ps: if your not being tagged, check your settings

this is kinda a filler chapter to show how the jjk men are reacting before the real drama happens. im kinda stuck between a few different options for ch. five, so peer pressure me into what you guys want !!

part one, part two, part three, part four

taglist: @higuchislut @entr4p3 @waterfal-ling @yourname-exee @kuro-chi69 @ourfinalisation @erishishigami @your-favorite-god @queenmimis @b0nez9 @mikorinstan @spookypeacesandwich @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @ventila98 @viatorem-maris @reivunzu @softobvvillion @blurpleuni-squid @hellv1ra @shesabeeler @tatsuomii @mortallyshadysoul @animereaderinsertwriter @v1x3n @satoruswifeyyyy @indiewritesxoxo @justbelljust @emi311 @rosieandthethorns @r0ckst4rjk @rawwrrgal @linaaeatsfamilies

an imperial command a knight!choso fic

pairing ⸺ knight/warrior!choso x princess!reader

summary ⸺ you, the princess of the nation, and choso, the son of your father's most trusted general, have been inseperable since birth. but after many deem it inappropriate for him to be so close to you, the distance between you and him only deepens after he leaves for war. when he comes back older and a more handsome, bigger version of the choso of your childhood, you both grapple with love, duty, and test the bounds of propierty.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, reader has a vagina, classism? not really, reader may seem pushy at times, not edited, very sweet love confession, happy ending, fingering, breast worship, virgin reader, mutual loss of virginity, mentions of sexism and archaic beliefs about virginity, pathetic choso, soft dom choso, p i v sex, gentle choso :(, me being really horny about his HAPPY TRAIL

a/n it's something about a hot decorated warrior that crumbles at the thought of you...

general masterlist

You and Choso had been inseparable since birth.

As the princess of the realm and the son of the general—your father’s most trusted advisor and sworn brother—it seemed ordained by fate itself that you should become steadfast companions. And companions you were; as babes, you darted through the royal gardens, frolicked in the halls of the palace, and devised schemes to escape the ever-watchful eyes of your tutors. Only the constraints of your education would separate you. You were confined to lessons in the classical tongues, the harp, and courtly diplomacy, while Choso immersed himself in the arts of the sword, the strategies of war, and the unyielding discipline of a soldier.

“Choso!” you squealed, your laughter ringing through the royal gardens as you fled from an imagined dragon. You ran toward him, your skirts billowing behind you, and found him poised and ready. His knees were bent, his gaze unwavering, and his small wooden sword clutched tightly in his hands. He glared past you at the phantom threat with the solemnity of a true knight.

“I will save you, Your Highness!” he roared and lunged, hacking away at the demon passionately. You cheered him on, giggling at his act.

“You’ve done it!” you cheered, clapping your hands in delight. But then your eyes widened in feigned terror. “Look, another one approaches!”

Choso spun around at your warning, his attention diverted just as you had planned. Seizing the moment, you imagined the dreadful beast closing in on his unguarded back.

“Watch out!” you exclaimed, grabbing a fallen branch to defend him. With a bold leap, you placed yourself between Choso and the imagined peril, brandishing your twig as though it were a knight’s blade.

“I’ve got you!” you declared, laughing as you swung your newfound weapon, the pair of you lost in the unrestrained joy of childhood.

Of course, while the king, your father, appreciated you so closely acquainted with his general’s son, your mother did not seem to think it wise that you become estranged from the daughters of nobles; after all, you would need to forge relationships early on to strengthen your future court. This led to many a playdates being interrupted.

“You didn’t need to save me!” Choso whined, pouting while crossing his arms. 

However, you held out a pudgy hand, patting his hair as if to soothe him. “It’s okay, Choso. If you ever need saving, I’ll always be there—” “YOUR HIGHNESS!” You heard footsteps running towards where the both of you were sitting idly. When parrying the imaginary monster’s attacks, you had tumbled on top of Choso, your dress and limbs entangled with his and both of your hair unruly. Hearing your governess’ voice led you to pout, for you were sure to earn a scolding for fooling around with Choso rather than practicing the violin for the nth time. Alas, you couldn’t escape her—as well as Choso’s nannies, who had appeared—and you both looked sheepishly at their horrified faces.  

Frowning, Choso’s nanny stomped towards the both of you, untangling you both impatiently and, once you were both standing, giving Choso a light smack on his head while bowing towards you. “Your Highness, I apologize, but the both of you mustn’t do such things anymore. You both are far past the age that this is appropriate.”

“What?” You pouted, disappointed in having to back to your room, confined to practice your violin with those dreadful, boring tunes. “What isn’t appropriate about this? We’re just playing—”

“Your Highness,” your governess began, her strained smile barely masking her displeasure. “It is not fitting for a princess to engage in such… undignified behavior. You must remember your station. A young lady of your rank is expected to conduct herself with grace and decorum at all times.”

Choso’s nanny, now tidying his tousled hair with brisk, efficient motions, added in a sharper tone, “And you, young master, should remember your place. You are not her equal but her servant’s son. Such familiarity is unbecoming.”

At her words, Choso’s face turned pale, his gaze dropping to the ground. His hands clenched into small fists at his sides, but he said nothing, his lips pressed tightly together. You could see the effort it took him to remain still, his shoulders stiff with tension.

“Choso?” you called softly, tilting your head to catch his eye. 

However, he did not look up, though his voice came, quiet and steady. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I… I won’t do it again.”

Your brows furrowed, your chest tightening at the sight of his downcast expression. “What are you apologizing for?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended. “You’ve done nothing wrong! We were only playing.”

“Your Highness!” your governess interjected, her tone scandalized. “Such defiance is unbecoming. You must understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” you snapped, cutting her off. “I understand that I don’t care for these rules. Choso is my friend, and I decide what is and isn’t proper!”

Choso’s nanny inhaled sharply, but he quickly stepped forward, shaking his head fervently. “Please, Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “Don’t… don’t say such things for me. I’ll… I’ll do as I’m told. I promise.”

“Choso!” you exclaim, betrayed as the sting of his words settling in your chest. His gaze still refused to meet yours, fixed instead on the ground between you.

Your governess, sensing her victory, straightened. “Your Highness, you must return to your chambers immediately. Your music tutor is waiting. And as for you, Master Choso, your training will resume at once. I trust there will be no further disruptions.”

Neither of you spoke as the governess and the nanny ushered you away in opposite directions, their sharp voices ringing in your ears. Yet, as you glanced over your shoulder, you caught one last fleeting glimpse of Choso, his hesitant gaze finally meeting yours for the briefest of moments. It held a quiet resolve that only deepened your frustration.

“Wait and see,” you muttered under your breath as you were dragged back toward your chambers. “I’ll change this someday.”

That was the last time he ever spoke your name aloud; now, you were only Your Highness and The Royal Princess. It irritated you to no end; you were his friend, not his superior. But he insisted, falling deeper and deeper into the depths of social proprietary and hierarchy his nannies and parents were no doubt pressuring him into. You could only take what you had; if he was refusing your affection, he would at least not refuse royal commands of rendezvous.

Years had gracefully unfolded since that day, and now, as teenagers, your clandestine meetings in the royal gardens had blossomed into cherished rituals beneath the cloak of night. The gardens, adorned with that glowed under the moon's gentle gaze, became the sanctuary where you and Choso could momentarily escape the rigid expectations of courtly life.

As you approached the secluded alcove near the ancient marble fountain, your heart fluttered with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement. 

And there he was.

Choso waited beneath the willow tree, his dark eyes darting between the swaying branches and the dimly lit path beyond. The shadows stretched long in the garden, and the faint sound of patrolling guards put a furrow in his brow. He shifted on his feet, arms crossed tightly as though bracing himself for some reprimand.

When you finally appeared, dressed in your lighter night robes, he let out a small breath of relief. “Your Highness, you shouldn’t—”

“Can you stop that?” You whine, brushing him off and making a move to sit in the swing right by the tree. You lightly swing your feet, establishing a gentle rhythm while you grin mischievously at him, meeting your lighthearted eyes with his furrowed, slightly worried ones. “Don’t be such a spoilsport, Choso. No one’s going to catch us.”

He can only shake his head, for after years of friendship had led him to know one universal truth: if there was one thing, it was that your mind, once resolute, could not be changed. “I don’t know how you keep wanting to risk them discovering this.” Then, he sighs, lamenting weakly, “and why I have to dragged into this.”

You flash him an innocent smile, about to give a cocky response about how you’re the princess and it’s not like Choso doesn’t want this…right? but both of you pause, deadly still, when you hear the undeniable clinks of armor.

Patrolling guards.

Choso’s head snapped toward the sound, his body going rigid. It kind of dazes you, in a way, how his curriculum as a warrior leads him to be so alert. It’s also this moment that you realize how grown you both are becoming; it feels as if you’re stuck as a dainty princess, while he’s steadily growing taller and bigger, a smaller picture of his formidable father.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.

You froze, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with him before instinctively ducking behind the grand marble fountain. The cold stone pressed against your back as the guards’ footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the bobbing light of their lanterns.

“Who’s there?” one of them called out, his voice sharp and commanding.

Choso shifted beside you, his breath quick and shallow. Your hand brushed against his arm in reassurance, but it did little to ease the tension radiating off him. The guards’ lanterns swept methodically across the gardens, their shadows flickering on the trees.

“Stay still,” Choso mouthed, his dark eyes fixed on the approaching light.

The guards drew closer, their boots crunching against the gravel path. You could feel your pulse hammering in your ears, each second dragging on unbearably.

Then, a faint rustle to your left—a squirrel darting across the underbrush. The guards turned toward the noise, their lanterns swinging wide.

“Must’ve been an animal,” one muttered, though he sounded unconvinced.

“Keep looking,” the other replied gruffly. “The king’s orders were clear—no one’s to linger in the gardens after dark.”

The pair continued past, their voices fading as they moved toward the far side of the grounds.

You let out a shaky breath, but before you could fully relax, Choso grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. “We need to go deeper,” he said urgently, his voice low.

Without waiting for your agreement, he led you away from the fountain, weaving through the hedges and into the denser parts of the forest. The shadows thickened as the soft glow of the garden lanterns disappeared behind you. Branches brushed against your arms, and the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves filled the air as you ran.

“Choso!” you whispered breathlessly, struggling to keep up with his longer strides. “They’re gone!”

“Not far enough,” he replied, glancing back at you. “We can’t risk them doubling back.”

The forest grew darker the deeper you went, the canopy above blocking out most of the moonlight. Finally, when the sound of your own breathing seemed louder than anything else, Choso slowed to a halt beneath a towering oak.

“We should be safe here,” he murmured, releasing your hand.

You both sank to the ground, the soft carpet of moss cushioning your fall. For a moment, neither of you spoke, too winded to do anything but sit there, catching your breath. Then, a stifled giggle bubbled out of you, unable to contain the absurdity of the chase.

Choso shot you a warning look, but his resolve cracked when you pressed your hands over your mouth, failing to muffle your laughter. A small laugh escaped him in turn, and soon you were both doubled over, trying in vain to quiet yourselves.

“Shhh!” Choso whispered, though he was grinning. “You’ll get us caught.”

“You’re the loud one,” you whispered back, nudging him playfully.

Soon, the laughter slowly subsided, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. Choso leaned back against the tree, his expression softening as he glanced up at the canopy. His eyes caught on something above, and he pointed. “Look—fruit.”

Following his gaze, you spotted the cluster of small, round pomengrenates hanging from a low branch. Choso stood, brushing dirt from his trousers, and reached up to pluck one. He examined it briefly before biting into it, his movements unhurried and deliberate.

“Are you just going to eat that without offering me one?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He smirked, holding another pomengrenate aloft. “You want it?”

“Obviously.”

But instead of handing it over, Choso lifted it above his head, his smirk widening. “Come and get it.” You stood up, moving closer to him to make a motion to grab the fruit. Alas, the effort was not fruitful. 

“Choso!” you hissed, glaring at him as he kept the fruit just out of reach. You try many things: you grab his shoulder, tickle him on his stomach, and arms. However, it all is in vain.

“You’re the one who wants it,” he said, his head peering down at you in amusement.

You stood, determination written all over your face. “Fine. If you think I can’t—”

You leapt, swatting at his hand, but he easily moved the fruit higher, his height giving him the upper hand.

“You’re insufferable!” you said, laughing despite yourself as you tried again, this time jumping with more force. Still, you missed.

“Perhaps you should’ve been born taller,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Or perhaps you should stop being such a—” Before you could finish, he lowered the fruit suddenly, pressing it into your hand.

“There,” he said, smirking. “Satisfied?”

You took a triumphant bite, your glare softening into a grin. “For now.”

Settling back down, you both shared the fruit in companionable silence, the earlier tension of the night dissipating in the quiet forest. Yet, as you sat side by side, something about the way his gaze lingered on you—or perhaps the warmth blooming in your chest—made you wonder if these late-night meetings were becoming something more.

And then, years later, he left for war. Choso left for the battlefield, summoned to serve alongside his father as the general’s son. 

The morning he departed was etched into your memory with painful clarity. The air was crisp, the kind that stung your lungs when you breathed too deeply, and the courtyard was alive with the sounds of preparation. Soldiers moved with purpose, their boots striking against the cobblestones in rhythmic determination. Horses snorted and pawed at the ground, their breaths rising like smoke in the cold air.

You stood at the edge of it all, your hands clasped tightly in front of you, trying to keep your expression composed. This was no place for a princess to display her feelings, no matter how tightly they knotted in her chest. Your father was nearby, speaking with the general in low, serious tones, his gaze sweeping over the troops with pride. Your mother was absent, as always, too preoccupied with courtly matters to concern herself with the departure of soldiers—even one who had once been your constant companion.

When Choso emerged from the crowd, his figure clad in the red, utilitarian uniform of a soldier, it was as though the rest of the scene blurred. The boy who had once darted through the gardens with you, his hair wild and his hands dirtied by mischief, now looked every inch the man his father had raised him to be. His hair was tied back, his face set in an unreadable mask of calm, and he carried himself with a solemnity that felt foreign.

He always did make you feel like a child. While you were still delaying acceptance of your fate as the princes—future queen—-he had grown into a man, fated to be a war general. 

He approached slowly, each step deliberate. When he stopped before you, he did not smile. Instead, he bowed low, his dark eyes briefly meeting yours. “Your Highness—”

But you had enough of that godforsaken title. “Why must you leave?” You cried, your voice breaking as Choso stood before you in the courtyard.

The image of the steeled soldier crumbled as his eyes softened in fondness and melancholy. “You know I must.”

You shook your head fervently, as if to vehemently deny what was undeniably the truth. “You know that’s not true.” And it wasn’t, for it would only take an imperial command of yours to bar him from ever entering the battlefield.

But it was his dream; you saw the way he looked at his father. To deny Choso the sword and the glory he was destined for was to chain him down, and you knew that. So instead, you shook off the idea, then blurted, “You’ll write to me, won’t you?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with expectation. He hesitated, a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—crossing his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “If time allows.”

That was all he offered. No promises. No reassurances. Just a vague, distant answer that left your heart sinking.

Outraged, and a bit petulant, you exclaimed. “What do you mean if time allows? Will you be so busy that you won’t have time? Are you not at least going to grant me some peace of mi—what is that?”

In the corner of your eye, you see something in his hand catch the sunlight, and glimmer. He hesitates, his hand clenching before inevitably opening his palm. A timid, “For you, Your Highness.”

An instinctual don’t call me that dies out in your throat as he shows you what he was hiding. In it he uncovers a small, delicate object—a pin shaped like a blooming flower, its petals carved with meticulous detail and painted in hues of white and gold.

You stared at it, your hands trembling as you took it from him. “What is this for?”

“It’s a symbol,” he explained, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Of where I’ll always be, even if I’m not here. Keep it with you, and you’ll know that... that I’ll do everything I can to return.”

“Oh, Choso.” Your bottom lip trembled as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your fingers closed around the pin, the intricate craftsmanship biting into your palm. Somehow, the weight of it felt heavier than it should’ve been. “I don’t want a pin, Choso,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I want you to stay.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might reach out to you. But then he stilled, the rigidity in his posture a clear reminder of the boundaries he refused to cross.

Even so, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful. The gift, despite your pain, was beautiful, and its meaning wasn’t lost on you. You sniffled, brushing a tear from your cheek with a trembling hand. “But it is beautiful, regardless,” you murmured, holding it up to the light. The golden edges of the petals gleamed softly, like sunlight captured in metal. “Put it in my hair?”

Choso blinked, caught off guard by the request. His gaze flickered between you and the pin, uncertainty etched into his features. “Your Highness, I—”

“Please,” you interrupted gently, tilting your head slightly toward him. “Just this once.”

He hesitated for a long moment, his fingers flexing at his sides as though he were battling some internal conflict. Finally, with a barely audible sigh, he reached out and took the pin from your hand.

You held your breath as he stepped closer, his presence steady and grounding despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. His hand brushed against your hair and your neck as he carefully gathered a small section, his touch warm and deliberate. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips, earned from countless hours of swordsmanship, yet his movements were painstakingly gentle.

“There,” he said softly, stepping back to examine his work. His gaze lingered on you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his formal mask cracked ever so slightly. There was something in his eyes—something raw and unspoken—that made your chest tighten.

You reached up instinctively, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of the pin now nestled securely in your hair. “How does it look?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the lump in your throat made it difficult.

Choso’s lips parted, but no words came. He swallowed hard, his gaze darting away as if he couldn’t bear to look at you any longer. “It’s beautiful,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The horn sounded again, louder this time, breaking the fragile moment between you. Choso stepped back, the walls of propriety rising between you once more.

“Thank you,” you managed, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest.

He bowed deeply, avoiding your eyes. “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with the faint scent of earth and steel, the pin in your hair a bittersweet reminder of the distance that now separated you.

For weeks after, you found yourself restless, wandering the garden paths where you had once talked and laughed together. You scribbled letter after letter, pouring out questions and updates, recounting bits of palace gossip and even sending sketches of the places you’d been. But no reply ever came.

At first, you tried to excuse it—surely, he was too busy, too occupied with the rigors of war to respond. Still, you kept writing, sending your letters to the front lines with the faint hope that one day, you’d receive one in return.

“Any news of the general’s son?” you would ask your father over dinner, feigning casual interest.

“He’s doing well,” your father would reply, distractedly cutting into his meal. “His tactics in the northern campaign have earned him commendation. A fine young soldier.”

You pressed further, ignoring the disapproving look your mother shot you. “And... is he safe?”

Your father raised a brow but indulged you. “Of course. The reports say he’s advancing quickly through the ranks. A promotion to captain is already under consideration.”

Your chest swelled with pride at the thought, but it was quickly eclipsed by frustration. If he was receiving such accolades, surely he could find the time to write a simple letter?

“Why do you trouble your father with such questions?” your mother chided later, her tone clipped. “The general’s son is serving the nation. You should focus on more important matters, like preparing for your duties.”

But your concern for Choso only grew. Whenever news from the front lines arrived, you would listen intently, hoping to hear his name mentioned. When you did, it brought a fleeting sense of relief, but it never lasted long.

The silence from him felt heavier with each passing month. You couldn’t understand it—how could someone who had once been your closest companion, who had sworn to always protect you, sever that bond so easily?

And yet, you never stopped writing. Each letter was folded with care, sealed with your personal wax stamp, and sent off with the same unwavering hope. Even if he didn’t reply, even if you didn’t understand why, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

The city was alive with celebration, a symphony of cheers, music, and the occasional crackle of fireworks that lit up the night sky. The soldiers had finally come home after a long winded war, and you just couldn’t miss out on the excitement. After Choso’s departure, you had grown. Before you were a gangly teenager, but now you were a young woman. With this came you forming your own opinion, independent of our parents, and had developed a habit of frequently sneaking out of the palace.

You couldn’t bear to stay confined to the palace, not when the air was thick with excitement and the news of the army’s triumphant return had set the entire city alight. The soldiers, clad in polished armor that gleamed even in the dim light, strode through the streets in small groups while the people cheered on the sidelines. They carried themselves with the confidence of men who had seen battle and emerged victorious.

Young ladies lingered at the edges of the crowd, their eyes alight with hope as they watched the soldiers pass. Some called out to them, their voices playful and lilting, while others merely smiled shyly, clutching kerchiefs or flowers they clearly longed to offer. The soldiers, for the most part, maintained a stoic demeanor, though a few exchanged grins or nodded in acknowledgment, their faces betraying a mix of pride and exhaustion.

Children darted between legs, waving tiny flags and shouting in delight, while their parents looked on with a mix of relief and gratitude. The scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine wafted through the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the soldiers’ armor. It was a night of unity, of celebration, where the lines between commoner and noble blurred in the shared joy of victory.

Draped in a simple cloak to conceal your identity, you slipped past the guards at the palace gates, your heart pounding with both exhilaration and trepidation. The anonymity of the cloak felt liberating as you merged with the crowd, the world suddenly vast and unguarded in a way it never was within the palace walls.

Laughter surrounded you, the contagious energy of the revelry lifting your spirits as you wandered farther from the familiar confines of royal life. You paused to admire a street performer juggling flaming torches, your cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. But before you could move on, a sudden gust snatched the handkerchief tucked into your cloak.

You gasped, your fingers grasping for it, but the delicate fabric was already airborne, dancing above the heads of the crowd. You watched helplessly as it soared higher, carried by the playful wind. Instinctively, you gave chase, weaving through the throng of revelers as your heart raced with the thrill of pursuit.

The handkerchief drifted out of sight, disappearing beyond the swell of people. Your steps faltered, and you stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowd in vain. It was only then that a firm hand shot up above the sea of heads, catching the fluttering fabric mid-air. The sight of your handkerchief, caught in a strong, gloved grip, sent a jolt through you.

Your gaze traveled upward, and there he stood—a figure that was at once familiar and startlingly different. His broad shoulders and proud stance were unmistakable even before he turned, his dark eyes locking with yours.

“Your Highness?” His voice was deep, steady, and entirely too familiar. Then, his eyes went to your hair—you, still wearing the hairpin he gave you that day—and they filled with a conflicted, longing sort of expression.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you froze. He looked so much…bigger. He always had muscles due to his frequent physical lessons, but he was so much taller now, his face a lot more sculpted. Before you could interpret what the lurching in your heart meant, he took a step towards you. But before he could take another step toward you, you turned and ran instinctively, the sound of his voice chasing you as surely as his footsteps.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! If Choso knew you had sneaked out, he would send you right back, citing useless things about duty and protecting you. While your traitorous heart started beating faster as soon as you saw him—different, but still undeniably Choso—you knew your liberty was at an end if he sent you home and informed your parents of what you did.

You bolted as fast as you could, your cloak billowing behind you as you darted into a narrow alley. Footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, heavy and deliberate, chasing you down. You reached the end of the alley and stopped, your chest heaving, unsure whether to keep running or face him.

“Your Highness,” the voice came again, closer this time.

You spun around, and there he was. Choso. But he wasn’t the boy you remembered—he was a man now. Broad shoulders filled out his uniform, the insignia of his rank glinting on his chest. His hair was tied back, revealing a face hardened by battle and time. Yet his eyes, dark and intense, still held the same quiet depth you’d known as children.

He dropped to one knee, his hand over his heart. “Your Highness.”

You gaped at his display. Since when did he start kneeling? “What are you doing?”

His voice came out, devoid of the warmth you had once known. “It’s protocol, Your Highness.” His head remained bowed, his knee pressed to the uneven cobblestones, the hand holding your handkerchief resting against his heart.

But you were in denial, scrambling to pull him up by his arms. It was futile; he was way stronger than you, and at your touch, he jumped back, as if stung. Wounded, you urged him. “Get up,” you stepped closer, “Choso, it’s me. You don’t need to—”

“I must, Your Highness.” His tone was calm but resolute, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Unless you are issuing an imperial command, I have no choice but to honor the rules set forth by your station.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “An imperial command?” The words tasted bitter on your tongue. You didn’t want commands; you wanted familiarity, the easy camaraderie you once shared.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He finally lifted his gaze to meet yours, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “If you do not wish me to kneel, then say it as such. Otherwise…” He lowered his head again. “This is my place.”

“Your place?” You felt a flicker of anger rise in your chest. “Choso, your place is by my side, as it always has been! Don’t—don’t treat me like some distant monarch.”

His shoulders tensed, and you thought you caught a flash of something—guilt, perhaps?—in the way his fingers tightened around the handkerchief. But still, he didn’t move.

Frustrated, you stepped even closer, your voice rising despite your efforts to remain calm. “Get up,” you said, reaching out and tugging at his arm. “I said, get up!”

“I cannot,” he said softly, the words cutting through your frustration like a blade. “Not unless you order it as my superior.”

You stared at him, a mix of hurt and disbelief swirling in your chest. “Fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “If that’s what it takes, then I command you—get up, Choso. I command you to stand!”

For a moment, the tension lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. Slowly, reluctantly, he rose to his feet, towering over you with a presence that felt both familiar and foreign.

But as you looked up at him, your frustration only grew. “This isn’t you,” you said, your voice softer now, tinged with sadness. “You’re treating me like I’m just your princess, like I’m someone you barely know. Do you even know how much it hurt when you never wrote back to me? I kept sending letter after letter, but it was like you didn’t care. Like you forgot about me.”

Choso’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “It wasn’t my place to respond, Your Highness.”

It was that damn phrase. “Your place?” you echoed, now even more bitterly. “You were my friend, Choso. My closest friend. Now you stand here, calling me Your Highness like I’m a stranger, like we never ran through the gardens or talked under the stars. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

For a moment, his expression softened, but it was fleeting. He straightened, his demeanor distant once more. “It’s dangerous for you to be here,” he said quietly. “I need to call for a carriage to take you back to the palace.”

Your heart sunk to your derriere. If Choso did indeed send you back, your parents would undeniably discover that you’ve been sneaking out. “No!” you snapped, stepping forward. “You can’t. If my parents find out I was here, they’ll—”

“They’ll ensure your safety,” he interrupted, his voice steady but firm. “And that’s what matters.”

You stared at him, now anger bubbling in your chest. “So you’ll just hand me over like I’m some burden to be dealt with? What about you?” Then, in a strong fit, you bursted out. “Are you going to stay here and fool around with girls while I’m locked away in the palace?”

His eyes widened briefly at your accusation, a flicker of surprise breaking through his stoic mask. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step back. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly.

“Fair?” you shot back, your voice trembling. “What’s fair about any of this, Choso? You’re not even trying to fight for us—for the friendship we used to have.”

He hesitated, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then make it simple!” you demanded, your heart aching with every word. “Stop pushing me away. Stop acting like I don’t matter to you anymore.”

For a moment, you thought he might say something—something real, something that would bridge the growing chasm between you. But instead, he turned away, his voice steady and distant as he said, “Wait here. I’ll call for the carriage.”

You watched him walk away, the ache in your chest spreading until it felt like it would consume you entirely. The handkerchief in your hand trembled as you clenched your fingers around it, your anger and sadness swirling into a storm of emotion.

And yet, even as he disappeared into the bustling streets, a part of you refused to believe this was the end. You couldn’t let it be.

Ever since his return to the palace, Choso has been ignoring you.

It’s not that you were spending every hour and every minute with him before, when he was just your childhood friend. However, you would meet everyday, whether it to be sneak off into the gardens at night, or meet for lunch or dinner. Even a request of yours could’ve secured a visit to town, the both of you going to town to eat pastries and street food while accompanied by a chaperone. Of course, that was due to your incessant pleas to your disapproving mother, but you could score an occasional playdate outside the palace every month or so.

But it feels…different. And he feels different.

You oft find yourself daydreaming about him, older and a decorated soldier. And before you can catch yourself, you find your cheeks heated and your heart set aflutter. It’s a bit mind-boggling, really. Ever since Choso left, none of the future dukes and lords had ever caught your attention, even at balls. Their gentle, weak disposition didn’t compare to your Choso, you always thought. Back then, you had always thought of it as pride for your best friend, but now…..

Musing aside, you’re tired of this distance Choso has created between you. So you choose to seek him out.

The castle courtyard was alive with the sharp clang of swords and the rhythmic stomp of boots on hard-packed dirt. You leaned over the balustrade of the upper terrace, concealed behind a stone pillar, watching the soldiers below. It wasn’t the sparring or the strategy that captivated you—it was Choso.

The sun bore down on him as he moved with precision and power, his blade a silver blur as he sparred with one of the veteran knights. His whole torso is bare; damp with sweat, the sun shines against the cords and cords of muscle that then lead to a string of hair that trails into his trousers. The muscles in his arms ripple with every swing and parry. You bite your lip, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks that you stubbornly attributed to the summer heat.

He had changed so much. Gone was the boy who had laughed with you under the willow tree and run with you through the gardens. In his place was a man who carried the weight of war on his broad shoulders, his every movement deliberate, his expression unreadable. And yet, despite the distance he put between you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

When the sparring session ended, Choso handed his sword to a squire and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. You straightened as he turned, half-expecting him to glance up and spot you. But he didn’t. Instead, he spoke briefly to the knight, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. You couldn’t keep hiding and watching from afar. You had to speak to him, to demand answers for why he had been avoiding you since the day in the alley.

Quickly, you made your way down to the courtyard, your pulse racing as you rehearsed what you would say. But when you reached the training grounds, Choso was already heading toward the barracks.

“Choso!” you called out, your voice echoing across the courtyard.

He froze mid-step, his shoulders tensing before he turned slowly to face you. His expression was neutral, guarded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something he quickly masked.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head. “What brings you here?”

You frowned, frustrated by the formality in his tone. “I wanted to speak with you,” you said, stepping closer. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

He shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve been busy with training and my duties.”

“That’s a lie,” you said, crossing your arms. “You always find a reason to leave whenever I try to approach you. You didn’t even look at me after the alley—”

“Your Highness,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not proper for you to be seen in the training grounds.”

“Proper?” you repeated, anger flaring in your chest. “Since when do you care about what’s proper? You didn’t care when we were sneaking out or when we were running through the gardens—”

“That was different,” he said, his tone softer now. “We were children. Things aren’t the same anymore.”

“Why not?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the soldiers milling about in the distance. “I’m not pushing you away,” he said finally. “I’m doing what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me?” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “How can ignoring me and avoiding me be what’s best for me?”

Choso didn’t answer. Instead, he bowed his head again, his hands clenched at his sides. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I need to return to my duties.”

And before you could stop him, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the courtyard, your heart aching with every step he took.

You paced the length of your chambers, clutching the skirts of your dress. It’s been two times that Choso dismissed since his arrival. Did he abhor you so?

It was as if an invisible wall had been erected between you, the builder of it Choso for some mysterious reason. Proprietary aside, it would be okay for the occasional chat, would it not? After all, he was still a noble in his own regard, and a conversation or two wouldn’t be frowned upon. So why was he ignoring you entirely?

You couldn’t take it anymore. If he wouldn’t come to you, then you would ensure he had no choice but to stay by your side. If he truly detests it, you will let him go, no matter how painful it would be and how ardently you would mourn your friendship. But you needed to know.

Resolved, you marched to your parents’ audience chamber, where they were seated in quiet discussion. Your father looked up first, his brows furrowing slightly at your abrupt entrance. “What is it, my dear? You seem troubled.”

Your mother glanced at you as well, seated right next to the king, her sharp gaze assessing. “Has something happened?”

You straightened your shoulders, facing them both, willing your voice to remain steady. “Father, Mother, I have a request.”

Your father tilted his head, curious. “Go on.”

You hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “I would like Choso to be assigned as my personal guard.”

The queen blinked, her lips pressing into a thin line, and questioned, “Choso?”

“Yes,” you said quickly to prevent your mother from getting a word in. “He’s proven himself in battle, hasn’t he? He’s been promoted several times for his skill and loyalty. Who better to protect me?”

Your father leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “It’s true he’s risen quickly through the ranks. He’s a fine soldier.”

“And he’s someone I trust,” you added, stepping closer. “He’s been by my side since we were children. I feel safer with him than with anyone else. With me growing into adulthood, there would be no one better to be by my side.”

Your mother’s gaze sharpened. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with his recent return to the palace, would it?”

You met her eyes, refusing to back down. “It has everything to do with the fact that I need someone I can rely on. Someone who knows me.”

Your father exchanged a look with your mother, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. I will speak to the general about the arrangement.” Then, a little wryly, he adds, “Although, I did hear that it was him that reported you when you were sneaking out in public. Perhaps it would be a fine match.” At that, your mother visibly bristled at the memory of hearing that you were out, unguarded.

At the king’s words, relief washed over you, but it was quickly tempered by your mother’s stern voice. “This is highly unusual, you know. A princess requesting a specific guard. People will talk.”

Inwardly, you rolled your eyes, but showing sass to your mother would mean that she would argue further.  Instead, you went and showed her your pride. “Let them,” you said, lifting your chin. “I don’t care what they say.”

Your father chuckled softly, knowing you would say something of the sort. “Spoken like a true princess.”

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head. “Both of you, Father and Mother.”

As you left the chamber, your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was your chance—your chance to bring Choso back into your life. Whatever walls he had built between you, you were determined to tear them down.

The water was warm, steam curling gently around you as you leaned back in the large marble tub. The golden light of the setting sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting vibrant patterns across the tiled floor. It was one of the few moments you had to yourself, free from the watchful eyes of attendants and the endless constraints of royal duty. You closed your eyes, sinking deeper into the water, allowing yourself to relax—until the door to your bathing chamber slammed open.

“Your Highness, why did you—” At first, Choso raised his voice slightly, storming in. Then, he stopped right in his tracks as he noticed you, and your face, your neck and then the rest of your body engorged in soapy, steamy water. Blushing furiously, he turned, scrambling for the door. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to—”

He was rigid as he stormed toward the exit, and you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the sight. “Choso, wait,” you called, your voice laced with amusement. He stopped abruptly, halting awkwardly in his tracks. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm for your new title,” you teased, “I’d prefer if you didn’t barge into the bathing chamber. Let us count ourselves lucky that you had not seen… more.”

It was nearly impossible not to laugh now. Even the back of his neck was flushed a deep crimson, and it struck you as absurdly endearing. The aloof and stoic soldier who had spent weeks ignoring you had crumbled into a shy boy at the mere sight of you in a tub. You supposed it made sense—he’d likely not had much interaction with women, what with his rigid dedication to the army. Still, his reaction felt... exaggerated.

Choso let out a shaky exhale, his voice strained when he finally spoke. “I apologize,” he said, his tone clipped as though to mask his discomfort. “But I must ask—why did you instate me as your guard?”

The answer was simple, and you played absentmindedly with a soap bubble as you replied, “Because there is no one I trust more than you.”

For a moment, the room was silent save for the faint dripping of water. Then, Choso spoke, his voice low and almost pained. “Why must you do this to me? Why must you torment me so?”

What?

His words pierced through the lighthearted atmosphere, leaving you stunned. A pang of hurt welled in your chest at the sharpness of his tone. “Does it torment you to be in my company?” you asked, laughing scornfully to hide the sting.

When he didn’t answer, the silence was louder than any words could have been.

“If it torments you,” you continued bitterly, “then so be it. You have already had my one liberty stripped away. Mother and Father have doubled the surveillance on me, all thanks to you.” The memory of your recent restrictions only added fuel to the fire of your frustration. “Is this not fair? An eye for an eye, then. Perhaps your torment will teach you to stop pretending you know what’s best for me.”

Still brimming with anger, you lifted your chin and gestured to the door. “You may leave now.”

For a moment, he stood there, the weight of his presence filling the room. Then, with a stiff nod, he turned to the door. “Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice cold and formal.

And then, he was gone.

You really do abhor dinner parties.

There’s much wrong with them, and if you had to, you could do a systematic rundown of every single grievance. The first and foremost was the absurd inability to properly enjoy the food. The chefs’ hard work deserved to be indulged in, not nibbled delicately with those ridiculous little spoons. And then there was the matter of breathing, which you could barely manage with your waist cinched so tightly and your bodice forcing your chest up like some cruel display. Sitting down practically demanded you forgo the simple luxury of air.

But the worst part? Having to entertain men.

“And I have acquired double the profits of Lord Gojo,” Lord Naoya declared, puffing his chest like a rooster preening in the henhouse. His voice boomed with self-importance, his words spilling out in a showy, rehearsed cadence.

You couldn’t help yourself—you smiled. And while it appeared to him as admiration, it was born of pure amusement. The man clearly thought you were too dim to know better, but you were well-versed in state finances. Lord Naoya’s exaggerated claims were as transparent as glass.

On your right, Choso sat silently, his role as your personal guard justifying his unusually close position. He had been quiet all evening, his eyes scanning the room more than his plate.

“And surely, a woman as lovely as yourself would agree that business acumen is the truest mark of a man’s value,” Naoya continued, leaning closer to you with a smirk you found utterly punchable.

You giggled, not at his words, but at the sheer absurdity of them. You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, but your amusement couldn’t be fully hidden.

When you finally turned to glance at Choso, however, your mirth faltered. He wasn’t looking at Naoya anymore—his dark eyes were locked on you, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

He looked very upset.

You blinked, confused, before glancing back at Naoya, who was still prattling on, utterly oblivious. Was Choso… angry at you?

It didn’t make sense. After you had initiated him as your guard, he’d been resigned after that confrontation in your bathing chambers. Ever since, you’d seen him stoic, protective, and even exasperated, but this—this was different. The weight of his gaze lingered on you like a reprimand, and it unsettled you in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

“Your Highness, I trust you’d agree,” Naoya pressed, oblivious to the charged air.

“Agree?” you echoed, snapping back to attention. You hadn’t been listening, too distracted by Choso’s silent brooding. “Oh, of course,” you said vaguely, waving your hand with a polite smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Naoya looked pleased with himself, but you barely noticed. Your focus shifted back to Choso, who had turned his head forward, his jaw tight. You leaned closer to him, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Is something the matter?”

He didn’t look at you, his tone curt. “Nothing, Your Highness.”

Your stomach twisted at the formality. The night had already been exhausting enough, and now Choso was acting like you’d personally offended him.

“Choso,” you pressed, your voice softer now, “if I’ve done something to upset you—”

“It’s not my place to say,” he interrupted, finally looking at you. His gaze was sharp, cutting through your defenses. “But if I may offer counsel, I’d suggest not wasting your smiles on men like him.”

You blinked, taken aback. His words weren’t loud, but they struck with the force of a hammer.

“What does that mean?” you whispered, your amusement long gone, replaced by confusion—and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“It means,” Choso said, his voice low, “that he’s not worth it.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with implication.

Before you could respond, the clinking of glasses drew everyone’s attention, and you were forced to look away as a toast was made. But even as the room filled with polite applause and laughter, your thoughts were consumed by Choso’s quiet but pointed remarks.

When you glanced back at him, his focus was elsewhere, his expression carefully neutral. Yet something about the tension in his shoulders told you that the conversation wasn’t over—not really.

And for the rest of the evening, Naoya’s words became nothing more than background noise, drowned out by the quiet storm brewing in Choso’s eyes.

The air in your chambers was warm, the faint crackle of the fireplace soothing you as your maid finished tugging the laces of your nightgown into place. The fabric was delicate, thin enough to feel the cool evening breeze against your skin despite the room's warmth. With a bow, the maid excused herself, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Ever since that dinner party with Naoya, Choso had been more distant than ever. Before, it had seemed that he had warmed up to the task of being your guard; whenever you walked through the garden, you eventually warmed him enough that the both of you could converse during the stroll. Of course, it hadn’t returned to what it was like before, but it was still progress. However, now it seemed that all he had to offer was curt responses and avoidant stares. 

The change grated on you, more than you cared to admit. You weren’t naïve; you knew something had shifted that night. The way he had looked at you, the way his words had cut—it all lingered, a splinter in your chest that you couldn’t pull free.

Still, tonight was meant to be routine, a brief reprieve from the emotional turmoil. You always ended your evenings with a massage, a small luxury that helped soothe the tension from the day. Summoning Choso to your chambers, you intended for him to call for the maid who usually performed the task.

When he arrived, his expression was as stony as ever. “You called for me, Your Highness?”

“Yes, Choso,” you said, smoothing your hands over the hem of your nightgown. You lazed back on your chaise lounge, head against pillow as you looked at him. “I need the maid for my massage. Could you fetch her?”

He hesitated. “The maids have retired for the night. Shall I summon someone from the servants’ quarters?”

You frowned. The thought of disturbing anyone at this hour felt excessive. Then, your gaze drifted to Choso, his broad shoulders rigid, his hands clasped behind his back in his usual formal stance. An idea struck you, and you spoke before fully thinking it through.

“Then you’ll do it.”

His dark eyes snapped to yours, wide with disbelief. “Your Highness, I—”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence but unable to fully hide the mischief in your smile. “Oh, come now, Choso. You’re stronger than any maid. Surely, your hands would be better suited for the task.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you as though you’d just declared the sky was green. His lips parted, but no words came out, his gaze darting nervously around the room before settling back on you. “I don’t think that’s… appropriate,” he said carefully, his voice low and strained.

You leaned back slightly, arching a brow. “And why not? It’s just a massage. Surely, as my personal guard, it’s your duty to ensure my comfort, no?”

“Your Highness—”

“Choso,” you interrupted, your tone softening as you leaned forward slightly, letting your hair cascade over one shoulder. “You’ve sworn an oath to protect me. Are you really going to deny me such a simple request? Besides,” you added with a teasing smile, “I trust you. Who better to take care of me?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his shoulders visibly tensing. It was rare to see him so uncharacteristically flustered, and you found it almost endearing. Still, you could see the war waging behind his eyes—the struggle between his rigid sense of propriety and his inability to deny you.

“Choso,” you said again, gentler this time, “it’s just us here. No one else needs to know. Please?”

The word seemed to undo him. After a long, weighted pause, he exhaled sharply, his hands clenching at his sides before he gave a stiff nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

You smiled in satisfaction and shifted, lying down on the chaise lounge with your head resting on your folded arms. The thin fabric of your nightgown clung to your back and shoulders, leaving little to the imagination, but you paid it no mind. Choso, however, hesitated, his gaze flickering over you before he finally moved to kneel beside you, his movements almost painfully hesitant.

You settled onto the chaise lounge, lying on your stomach and pulling your hair over one shoulder to expose the curve of your neck. The thin fabric of your nightgown clung to your body, leaving little to the imagination, but you paid no mind to it. Choso, however, lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his dark eyes flickering over the exposed skin before quickly darting away.

The tension in the room was palpable, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his hesitation. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until finally, he knelt beside you, his movements stiff and deliberate. His hands hovered just above your shoulders for a moment, as if he were debating whether to go through with it, before he finally made contact.

The first press of his palms was firm, his calloused hands warm against your skin. He worked in silence, but his touch was tentative, almost reluctant, as though every movement was a battle against himself. His fingers found the knots in your shoulders, but his grip tightened slightly as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“You’re good at this,” you murmured, your voice languid. “I should’ve asked you sooner.”

Choso didn’t respond, but his hands stilled for the briefest moment, his jaw tightening. He resumed a beat later, his touch growing more confident as his fingers moved lower, kneading along the length of your spine. Yet, there was something almost possessive in the way he worked, his hands lingering at the curve of your back, brushing the edges of your nightgown with an intimacy that felt deliberate, even if unspoken.

Heat pooled in your belly, but the mood shifted when Choso spoke, his voice low and edged with something that made your breath catch.

“Do you let all your guards do this to you?”

Your eyes snapped open, the sharpness of his tone cutting through the haze. You turned your head to look at him, frowning. “What?”

He straightened, pulling his hands away, anger visible on his face. “Do you let all your guards touch you like this, or am I just the special fool?”

The accusation in his voice stung. You sat up on the chaise lounge, clutching the fabric of your nightgown to your chest. “What are you implying?”

“I’m implying,” he said, his eyes dark and filled with something unnameable, “that you smiled at Naoya like he was the only man in the room. That you entertained his nonsense—his lies—like you actually enjoyed it.”

A sharp laugh escaped you, incredulous and hurt. “You think I was flirting with Naoya? That I would ever entertain a fool like him?”

“You did tonight,” Choso shot back, his jaw clenched tightly. “You smiled and laughed at him, as if he deserved it. As if you weren’t above him. The you I knew wouldn’t have entertained someone like Naoya for a second. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

That cut deeper than it should have. Your breath hitched, and frustration welled in your chest, bursting free before you could stop it.

“You don’t know me anymore?” you echoed, your voice trembling with emotion. “Well, Choso, I don’t know you either! You’re the one who left me without a word. You’re the one who never answered my letters, who pushed me away for no reason. You didn’t answer them for years, Choso. For years! How can you stand there and talk about me changing when you’ve done everything you could to shut me out?”

He flinched, as if your words struck a nerve. His gaze fell to the floor, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I didn’t answer because I thought it was better that way,” he said quietly. “Because I knew… whatever this was—whatever we were—it couldn’t last. I didn’t want to make it harder for you.”

Your heart cracked at his words, tears threatening to spill over. “You didn’t want to make it harder for me?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You made it unbearable, Choso! You didn’t just leave me, you abandoned me. Without explanation, without closure. You were my friend, my closest ally, and you just… disappeared!”

“I was avoiding the inevitable,” he said, his tone low and bitter. “I was saving us both from something that could never be.”

“And why not?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Why couldn’t we have stayed friends? Why couldn’t you have stayed as someone I trusted, someone I could rely on?”

Choso let out a harsh, incredulous laugh, his head bowing as his hands rose to rub at his temples. When he looked back at you, his eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You think I just want to be your ally?” Choso’s voice cracked, his tone harsh and trembling, a storm barely contained within him. He stepped closer, his shadow stretching toward you in the dim light. His dark eyes blazed, raw and unguarded, piercing straight through you.

“Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life standing at your side, pretending it doesn’t destroy me every time you smile at another man?” he continued, his voice rising with emotion. “Do you think I want to be some nameless figure in your life, someone who exists only to bow, to nod, to follow orders while the rest of the world gets to bask in your warmth?”

Your breath hitched as he took another step, the space between you shrinking.

“I don’t want to be your ally, your friend, or some loyal servant,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I want you. I have always wanted you.”

His confession struck you like lightning, setting every nerve ablaze. You could see the anguish etched into his features, the way his hands shook as if he was struggling to hold himself back.

“I want to touch you without wondering if it’s inappropriate,” he went on, his words tumbling out, unrestrained. “I want to kiss you without the weight of the crown between us. I want to wake up beside you every morning, knowing you’re mine—truly mine—and not just some unattainable dream I’ve been foolish enough to carry.”

“Choso…” you whispered, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

“I want to tear apart every damned rule, every line drawn between us,” he continued, his voice thick with frustration and desire. “I want the world to see that you’re mine—not Naoya’s, not some prince’s, not anyone else’s. Mine.”

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair, his composure unraveling further. “But that’s not what the world allows, is it?” he said, his tone laced with venom. “Because I’m not a prince or a duke or anyone worthy of you. I’m just a man—a soldier. And the world says I can’t have you.”

His chest heaved with the force of his confession, and his eyes—God, his eyes—burned with a pain so deep it was almost unbearable to witness.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as his words sank in. “You could have had me,” you said, your voice trembling, tears stinging your eyes. “If you’d just stayed, if you’d let me in instead of shutting me out. We could have figured this out together, Choso. I would have fought for you.”

His expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his anger. “And what would you have me do?” he asked hoarsely. “Stand beside you while everyone whispers that I’m unworthy? Watch as suitors line up for your hand, knowing I can’t stop them because it’s my duty to protect you, not love you?”

“I don’t care what the world says!” you burst out, stepping closer, your voice rising with desperation. “I don’t care about duty or station or rules. All I ever wanted was you, Choso. You, as my friend, my ally, my—”

“Your what?” he interrupted, his voice low and rough. “Say it. Say what I’ve been longing to hear and dreading all at once.”

Your breath hitched, tears streaming down your face as you met his gaze. “My everything,” you whispered.

For a moment, the tension between you hung thick and electric, the weight of years of unspoken words pressing down on you both. Then Choso stepped back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight.

“That’s why I stayed away,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “Because I knew if I didn’t, I’d lose myself in you completely. And I wouldn’t be able to let you go. This is why I must stay away.” 

For a moment, he lingered there, his hand flexing at his side as if fighting some invisible force. His gaze dropped, and when he finally turned away, it was slow, deliberate, each step a struggle. He didn’t look back as he crossed the threshold, the heavy sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the silence.

The silence in your room was suffocating. Curtains drawn tightly, the dim flicker of a single candle cast wavering shadows on the stone walls. Plates of untouched food sat on a tray near the door, abandoned by the maids you had dismissed hours ago. The only sound was the faint rustle of your gown as you shifted on the edge of your bed, your arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold your broken pieces together.

A soft knock broke the stillness, tentative and almost hesitant. You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to see anyone, let alone speak. Whoever it was would surely leave if you didn’t respond.

But the door creaked open.

Your heart twisted. “I told you all to leave me be,” you said hoarsely, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I’m not one of your maids,” came a quiet reply from a voice that was all-too-familiar.

Your head snapped up, breath catching in your throat as Choso stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. His dark eyes, always so steady and unreadable, now held an uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“Get out,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended, though the hurt behind it was impossible to mask. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“I know,” he murmured, taking a hesitant step forward. He held something in his hands—a small stack of parchment, edges worn and yellowed. “But I have something to say to you.”

You frowned, your gaze darting to the papers he carried. “What is that?”

“Letters,” Choso said, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard before continuing, “The ones I wrote to you but never sent.”

You stiffened, your heart lurching painfully in your chest. “Why are you showing me this now?”

“Because I should have given them to you a long time ago,” he said simply. “And because I need you to know… what I couldn’t say before. But what I feel I must say now, for I am done with pretending I am not a selfish, selfish man.”

He stepped closer, setting the letters on the bed beside you. For a moment, he hesitated, then knelt before you, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked up at you with a mixture of guilt and determination, as if he had made a decision. And you fight desperately to not yourself believe that, perhaps, he has changed his mind, that he will finally take you in the way you desire.

But you steel your heart as you cautiously look at him. 

“Read them,” he said quietly. “Please.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the stack, the paper cool and rough beneath your touch. The first letter was dated years ago, the ink slightly smudged, as if his hand had lingered too long on the words.

My dearest friend,

I’ve written and torn up this letter a dozen times. How do I explain the ache I feel every night I march under foreign stars? How do I explain that even on the battlefield, amidst the chaos, my mind drifts to you? I think of our secret meetings in the garden, the way you’d laugh as you dared me to meet you in the willow tree every night. Do you remember that night we barely escaped the guards? Your laughter, your gown splayed across the forest floor. I dream of those nights—of you leaning close to steal the fruit in my palm, staring up at me, the world disappearing, and wishing I could ask for more. For you close to me not under the pretense of stealing the pomegranate in my hand, but for something more.

Your voice broke as you read, tears pooling in your eyes. Choso remained silent, his head bowed, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You moved to the next letter.

The scent of jasmine haunted me on the journey here. Every step of the way, I remembered you crouched beneath the trellis, daring me to pluck the flowers despite the gardener’s wrath. When I handed you the bouquet, your smile made me feel invincible, as though I could conquer kingdoms just to see it again. I wished then that I could have told you the truth—that every reckless moment we shared was a reprieve from the weight of duty. I wanted to kiss you in the moonlight, to tell you that you were more than a dream to me. I tried to, in part, with the hairpin I gave you, one that amplified your gentle beauty even more than I thought possible. But how could I ruin what little time we had?

“Choso,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why didn’t you send these?”

“I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought it was kinder to stay away. To bury how I felt. But it wasn’t kinder, was it?”

You shook your head, unable to speak as you continued reading, each letter peeling away the walls you’d built to protect yourself from the pain of his absence.

When you reached the last letter, your breath hitched.

If I were braver, I’d tell you this to your face: I love you. I’ve loved you since the first time we ran barefoot through the gardens, laughing until we couldn’t breathe. I’ve loved you since you bandaged my hand after my sparring lessons, scolding me and treating me gently as if I weren’t a warrior, as if my rough, damaged hands were worth your care. I love you with a desperation that terrifies me, that kept me awake in camp as I replayed your smile over and over. If I lose you now, it will be my own doing. But still, I love you.

Your tears fell freely now, soaking the parchment. Choso rose slowly, his hands lifting as if to touch you but stopping just shy of your skin.

“Say something,” he pleaded, his voice raw.

Instead, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to meet you. Your lips found his in a kiss that was fierce and unrestrained, pouring every ounce of longing, anger, and love into the connection.

Choso froze for a heartbeat before melting into you. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

His hands moved to grasp your waist, as if afraid you might vanish. Before they could touch you, he paused as if doubting his ability to be able to touch you. To your frustration, the heat of his almost-contact pulled away. “Your Highness—”

“Choso,” you pleaded, grasping his hands in yours and placing them on their rightful place: your body. You dragged his hands down your torso, helping him explore your curves sensually, intimately as he squeezed his brows together, eyes shut, conveying his inner turmoil. His resolve almost cracked as you begged him, “Take me. Please.”

With agitation, he withdrew his hands from your grasp, painfully clenching them by his sides as he groaned. “Your Highness, you’re playing with fire. I mustn’t. Your body is of a thousand gold, and I would never dare to touch you with my hands—”

But you interrupted him by snorting. “If it is of a thousand gold, or whatever archaic term the royal legends have invented, then you are a thousand gold richer.” You gently took his face in your arms, kissing his forehead. “I am yours, and if you believe that anyone will have my heart after you, then you are most grievously mistaken.” 

He still looked at you, both kneeling on your bed, with a conflicted expression. You gave him a reassuring look before pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. Then, you teased him softly. “Will you not fight for my hand? Will you truly let me be promised to another man after this?”

His eyes darkened in a possessive manner, as he joined his lips against yourself furiously. “I would never,” he punctuated his interruptions with a searing kiss. “let anyone have you after this.”

With tender hands that heavily contrasted his desperation, he slipped the shoulder of your dress, dragging the hem down and down until your breasts were bare to the air. “So, so beautiful,” he whispered before enclosing your nubs in his mouth, kissing them both tenderly.

You could only but gasp, victim to his ministrations as he sneaked another hand up your legs, gently caressing your thighs until he met your core. He groaned, louder than ever, when he was met with the bare heat, wet with your desire and arousal all for him. With painstaking gentleness, he eased a finger in, drinking in your moans and sounds of pleasure. 

He couldn’t help but smile at the small scream that escaped you when he curled his fingers up. It seemed he had found the place that pleasured you most, one that you had stayed unbeknownst to. And he definitely couldn’t stop himself from torturing and repeatedly hitting against it with the way squeals of his name left your mouth whenever he did so.

Before you knew it, an unknown feeling washed over you as Choso kept continuing his touches, one that seemed like worship with how he was looking for your reactions, for your pleasure. A gush of slick escaped you, and Choso kissed your breasts one final time before drawing out his finger.

You peered down at him, flushed, as his eyes stayed trained on you while he slowly drew his finger inside his mouth, seeming to savor your taste. At last, he pulled it away from his mouth and asked, voice hoarse, “how are you feeling?”

You laugh bashfully and look away, blushing. “You know you don’t need to ask that. But,” and you pause, looking at him through your lashes, “you know I want more.”

The flush that was only apparent on his cheeks spread to his entire face and neck and he whines as he buries his face in your breasts once more, now to evade eye contact. “Don’t say things like that. It makes holding back even more arduous.”

You stroke his hair, smiling softly. “Would you have any qualms about taking my…maidenhood if you were my husband.”

His answer is immediate. “Absolutely not.”

“So you want to…make love with me?” You heat up at your own words, nervously looking at him in fear of his rejection.

He pauses, but then slowly nods. “Well, yes, but—”

“Then we shall put archaic traditions aside. Choso,” and you look at him mischievously as he squints at you, “I command you to make love to me.”

The reaction is immediate. As if animated again, he pins you down against your mattress, eyes feral as he takes your lips with his once more. With both hands, a riiiip echoes across the room as he entirely tears your shift in his bare hands. Mind you, it was not weak material, and you lay dumbfounded as he strips his shirt off.

You don’t even have time to admire his bare torso, muscled as you knew it would be. Your eyes automatically trail down to the string of hair that leads down to his v-line as he rids himself of his trousers. 

What gets uncovered makes you pray for your life, and you gasp, eyes wide. “How is that even supposed to go inside—”

He says your name, reassuringly, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I will take the utmost care of you. I promise.” He lines his length with your entrance, and, with another kiss, he pushes in gently.

When his member first breaches you, you gasp, dizzied by the fullness. Then, as he slowly bottoms out, you whine while impaled on his cock. “More.”

Basking in the euphoria of your clenching heat around him, at your request, he curses. He pulls out his length—slowly, gently—and then slams back in, and you squeal, whispering a breathless utter of his name once more. 

He continues making love to you, the sounds of his devotion echoing across the room. When you both climax, it is down with a prayer of the other’s name, as a promise. That you are both each other’s, and no qualms about proprietary and status could any longer apprehend either of you.

When the both of you settle down, him having gently cleaned you with a cloth, he collapses next to you in bed, bare arms engulfing you and pulling you closer. As you both lie there, skin to skin, you giggle at your own thoughts.

At the sound, Choso perks up, looking at you in soft amusement. “What’s the matter, my love?”

Ignoring the way your heart fluttered at the nickname, you replied, “I daresay you will be the strongest prince consort in the history of our kingdom.”

The mention of the weak nobles that had ascended the throne in centuries past makes him snicker smugly. “I would agree,” he muses, amused like you. “They would not have been as tall as me, or as strong, or as good in bed—-”

“Choso!” you squealed, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it.

Grinning like a devil, he dodged with ease, catching your wrist and pulling you down onto the bed. Before you could protest, he wrestled himself on top of you, pinning your arms above your head and smothering you in kisses.

After his barrage was over, he turned solemn once more. “I’m serious,” he murmured, his tone softer, more sincere. His dark eyes searched yours, and his voice dropped to a near whisper. “I’ll protect you, stand beside you, love you until my last breath. You’re my queen in every way that matters. And no matter what, I’ll never leave your side again.”

Your breath hitched, his words settling deep in your chest. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you smiled, warmth flooding your heart. “And I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts promise and devotion. It wasn’t hurried or frenzied, but slow, a tangible declaration of everything you both had endured to reach this moment. Here, in the quiet of your chamber, with his weight grounding you and his lips marking you as his, you found the only place you wanted to be—by his side, now and always.

general masterlist

a/n AHH HI POOKIES!! I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED MY FIRST CHOSO FIC?? let me know if i do him justice this was written with my pussy and me having a specific hyperfixation :3 anyways i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you guys did too :')

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3

IF I WAS A RICH GIRL ♡

pairing: bodyguard!jason todd x bratty!fem!reader x bodyguard!dick grayson

summary: for the first time ever, jason needs dick's help with a client. upon meeting you, dick understands why. you're a handful - bratty, needy, the whole deal. luckily for everyone involved, dick has a soft spot for brats and jason has a tendency to follow in his footsteps.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hair pulling, praise/degradation, gun play, brat taming, dacryphilia

wc: 12.9k

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, but i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up unfortunately. anyways comm for the sweetest ever @fearcvlt. thank you again hehe. as always reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

part 2

Dick watched the numbers above the elevator door light up one at a time. Every couple seconds, the soft glow moved one space to the right. It started with 1, 2, 3 and now landed on 67, 68, 69. Finally 70 lit up and a soft ding sounded through the cabin.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and took a deep breath. When Jason had texted him a few days ago, he made this situation sound dire.

Dick had been in the middle of working out, pulling himself up and down using the rings hanging from the ceiling of the gym. The chime of his phone pulled him from the focus that came with his muscles burning and sweat dripping from his hairline.

'Are we allowed to drop clients?' was the first message he saw.

But then another quickly followed.

'It's been a full twenty-four hours.'

At first he wondered if it was a joke, but Jason didn't really joke about clients.

He tried thinking to himself what case he'd even been assigned to. That gig at the shipping yard had wrapped up by now, and that stalking victim had canceled on them for another security firm.

Then he remembered. That Monday Jason was supposed to start with the senator's daughter.

Something must have really been wrong for him to want to drop that. It was one of the best jobs they'd been offered since starting up their agency. It was full-time protection, meaning round the clock, 24/7 pay.  Also a high profile contractor like a senator meant word of mouth getting around to his colleagues, similar types who would want some security for their own twenty-something-aged brats.

'We can't drop her. Maybe I can see about someone swapping cases with you. Did something happen?' was all he responded with.

The reply was instant. 'I'll take literally anything else.'

'She can't be that bad,' he sent in return.

'You take her then. Find out for yourself.'

He rolled his eyes at his dramatics. There was no way you could really be so awful. While Jason didn't joke about work that much, he loved to complain. Shaking his head, Dick typed back a final message.

'Keep your head for the next few days. I'll come see what I can do over the weekend.'

So that was what he planned on doing for at least the next five or so days. He had said the weekend, but it was Thursday now, and he didn't have to do anything else till next Wednesday. Plus, he figured Jason would try his hardest to rope him in for longer if things with you hadn't changed.

He walked into the entrance hall of the penthouse, eyes briefly scanning his surroundings like they always do upon entering somewhere new. The design was sleek. A classy white end table sat below a large mirror with delicate decorations adorning its surface. A plush rug rolled down the hallways to a set of French doors.

One glance around told him this was all expensive. Every detail chosen by someone young, experiencing their first taste of independence. It was cute in a way. At least he thought so. He could only imagine the distaste Jason had reacted with upon seeing the pink candles or vases of dainty flowers.

He continued in the direction of what he assumed was the living room. Though he had only taken a few more steps across the fuzzy rug before he heard loud voices muffled by the doors ahead. He paused and narrowed his eyes for a moment, trying to determine the severity.

The first voice he knew belonged to Jason. It boomed with annoyance, loud and brash. The other was higher pitched.  He waited a few moments, feeling out the rhythm of the argument. Back and forth, back and forth. There was no third party, which meant it wasn't any serious danger.

He took another breath and braced himself to be put in the middle of whatever spat you two were having. Jason still hadn't been clear about what his exact problem with you was, so he didn't know what to fully expect. From the few things he had said over the phone, he gained the impression you were just a spoiled rich girl, and Jason's temper wasn't made to deal with any of those.

Grabbing one of the bronze handles, Dick pushed the door open. From where he stood in the alcove that held the doors, he didn't think either of you had noticed him enter.

The scene looked as he expected. Jason leaned against the pristine ivory island in the kitchen while you stood at the back of the large taupe sectional that spanned through the living area. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your foot looking as if you had just stamped it on the hardwood below. Jason, on the other hand, appeared as though he was about to explode. His fingers rubbed at his eyes before he spoke.

"For the last goddamn time, I'm not taking you, so find something else to do.”

"No. It's not your job to tell me what to do. You're only getting paid to follow me around where I wanna go," you retorted.

"I'm not taking you to the fucking mall!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms open, "Christ, you have a cell phone, a laptop, and an ipad. You could probably even use that watch you got on your wrist to shop."

"But it's not the same," you pouted.

Upon hearing that, it seemed like Jason's brain was actually on the verge of malfunctioning. In an attempt to help out, Dick walked the rest of the way in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice much cooler than the tense argument that preceded it.

Immediately, both sets of eyes were on him. Jason's features melted into relief while yours swirled with curiosity.

"Is this your boss?" you asked. Your arms fell to smooth out the small shorts you had on before they rose again to make sure your hair was in place.

Meanwhile, a sneer spread on Jason's face again. "No. We're partners," he said.

"C'mon, Jason. I like to think of us as friends before coworkers," Dick teased and flashed a smile. That earned him one out of you in return. Right then, he knew this would be easy.

He headed over to the area where you stood, and acting charming as ever, stuck his hand out in search of yours.

You gladly returned the exchange, offering your palm up for shaking like a trained puppy.

"I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. He wrapped his fingers around your hand with a firm grip.

Your smile widened before those soft lips parted to expel the syllables of your own name. You were being so much sweeter now that your sights had been set on someone besides Jason. Jason, who was currently watching with a mix of disbelief and irritation as your bratty temperament melted away before his eyes.

"Would you mind showing me where I could put my stuff?" Dick asked.

"Oh sure," you answered, "Follow me."

You waved him in your direction before prancing through an archway that led to a small area with a few doors and the stairs.

"I'll just show you where everything is while we're at it. That's the main bathroom. That's the office. And then up the stairs is where all the bedrooms are."

He followed behind you through the small room and then up the curved staircase. Jason trailed behind him, watching like this mask of pleasantness would fall away to reveal your true attitude any second.

Your hips swayed as you walked up each step. He felt like the way your ass jutted out a little as they did was intentional, but it didn't matter. Dick could be professional when he needed to be. He kept his eyes averted and stayed along your path.

After the stairs, you led them down a thin strip of lofted walkway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. With one hand on the silver railing, you explained each door that lined the wall as you went.

"That's the smaller living room. That's the second bathroom. That's the guest room Jason is staying in. And here is yours," you said as you got to the second to last door. You pushed it open and gestured proudly at the space.

"Looks nice. Thank you," he said before heading in. 

He tossed his bag on the bed and glanced around. It truly was nice. The bed looked like one out of a five star hotel. The end tables were polished and seemed as though they'd never seen a visitor throughout their time here. And then there were the floor-to-ceiling windows against the farthest wall. There was nothing to see outside right now. This floor rested so high up, clouds engulfed the glass panes.

"Mhm," you hummed before biting your lip, "And my room is the last door. There's always extra space in my bed if you don't like this one."

"But I thought you said I was a perv for suggesting that?" Jason interjected and shot you a glare from where he leaned against the door frame.

"Ummm, yeah, you are," you deadpanned, "I'm offering it to him, not the other way around like you did, obviously."

"It was a joke," Jason grumbled.

Before the tension could bubble over again, Dick laughed and looked over his shoulder at your teasing expression. "You know, I appreciate the offer, but this looks like more than enough for now."

"Ok, well let me know if you change your mind. I'll let you put your stuff away while I figure out what we can get for dinner," you told him before stepping back out of the room.

Dick waited a few moments to make sure you were really gone before turning to Jason and smirking. 

"That's who you've been having such a hard time with?" he mocked.

"I swear that's the best she's been all week. When it's just me, she doesn't quit. She goes on and on and on. Whining, complaining. It's borderline harassment to be honest," he responded and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on," he laughed, "She's as hard to deal with as a kitten."

"For you," he responded, "Once she gets bored of you, she'll act the same."

"Guess we're banking on the fact that I'm a lot more entertaining than you then, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up," Jason scoffed before turning and leaving the room too.

Over the next couple hours, Dick got settled in his room and then migrated back downstairs to feel out the situation here. Already he could guess why Jason didn't like you, but if things continued the way they were, he wouldn't mind slipping into his place. A full day of pay, and all he'd have to do is flirt back and forth with you every now and again.

In the living room, you laid back in the corner of your couch. Some tv show played as background noise while you scrolled through your phone. He made an effort to talk to you, to subtly observe more of your personality. Fortunately, you were pretty open to his attempts. Once he found a subject you liked, it was like flood gates opened. You couldn't have been more eager for someone to talk with.

Poor thing, he thought. You had everything you could want, but you were still so starved for attention.

As he listened to you chatter about your favorite tv show or something that happened last summer between you and your friend, he could see the quirks in you that drove Jason up the wall.

For one, you had a tendency to pout. He didn't think you were even aware of it most of the time. While he found it kind of cute, he knew that every time your lip started to puff out, it would send Jason's blood pressure through the roof.

You also were very touchy. Over the course of the short conversation, you drifted from your end of the couch to the cushion right next to Dick. Whenever you laughed your hand landed on his forearm. If he joked around in return, you'd lightly shove his bicep.

It was all pretty juvenile, methods of flirting used most often by kids with their first crushes, but he didn't mind. You were sweet and well-intentioned. Just so desperate to feel wanted.

And admittedly, he played into your desires a bit. He knew Jason would have lambasted him if he was down here right now instead of taking a break in his own room, but Dick didn't really care. Technically, he wasn't the one on call. Though even if he was, it's not like was overtly flirting with you. He was just having some fun and keeping you entertained. A few compliments and well-placed touches. That was it.

He straightened out his behavior a little by the time Jason did return downstairs to join you both for the dinner you'd had delivered.

You stood at the end of the table, graciously distributing the containers of food while they took up a seat on either side of you. Things went pretty smoothly overall. Once you each had a plate with your dishes of choice, you sat down and began to eat.

"You have that big kitchen," Jason commented after a few bites, looking over his shoulder at the room in question, "Do you ever actually cook anything?"

You narrowed your eyes for a moment but responded in the most calm tone of voice. "Yes, I do. But not for you."

Luckily, all that came from the tense exchange was Jason rolling his eyes. Neither of you seemed interested in launching into a full argument when you could focus on the food in front of you instead. A few minutes of quiet passed, but then conversation sprouted back up without an issue.

You asked them how they got into “bodyguarding,” making sure to add that modeling had to have been on the table for Dick. As with most interactions, he responded with a charming laugh. Though this time Jason interrupted to give you the spiel about their past - they worked together under the same mentor at a security company and decided to branch off and start their own as partners.

"Yeah, but why?" you questioned when he concluded his story, "Isn't it like... scary? You have to protect people from stalkers and stuff? That sounds so nerve wracking."

"It's not if you're good at your job like us," Jason dismissed.

Dick saw the frown appear on your face, and he swooped in with an answer of his own to make you feel less discarded. 

"It can be tense sometimes on rough cases, but it's really rewarding, you know? Getting to help people and protect them from the worst parts of life gives us a purpose," he explained.

"That makes sense," you nodded before laughing a little, "I could never do what you two do. I'm wayyyy too scared of being shot."

Dick chuckled, but Jason's look didn't soften at all.

"What is it you plan on doing with your life?" Jason asked.

His tone was short, prime for judgement, but you tried to let it roll off you. You kept your shoulders back as you answered the question, like it was a part of an interview you'd prepared for.

"I'm not totally sure what I'm gonna do with my whole life, but in the spring I'm gonna start working for my dad as an aide. Like when he takes office and everything."

"So what was the point of you going through college when you're guaranteed a job like that anyways?" he asked next.

Dick shot him a look across the table. It was one thing to respond to your whining, but picking a fight was another. He could see the question pricked at a real insecurity of yours. You bristled and tried not to let the weakness show itself.

"Because," you huffed, "I'm still supposed to know things and have skills of my own. And we're not like the Kennedys or something. I can't get by on my last name forever."

"Right..." he said and redirected his focus to shoveling some more food into his mouth.

Again, Dick took it upon himself to resuscitate the mood. He chatted with you some more about school and potential areas you were interested in for your future.

As things wrapped up and the three of you cleared the table, he finished by offering to take you on that shopping trip you'd been asking about earlier tomorrow. That seemed to be all it took to fully brighten up your mood. You eagerly accepted before heading off to your room for the night.

After you'd left, the room clouded with silence for a minute. The two of them migrated over to the living room. Both him and Jason took a moment to enjoy the peace that plumed up in your absence. It dissipated when Dick decided to speak again.

"You know, part of the reason she gets snippy with you is because you're not exactly pleasant to her," he started.

"No, she doesn't like me because I won't play into her flirty bullshit like you do," Jason replied and shrugged.

"It's more than that. You dismiss almost anything she says, and you try to provoke her into lashing out at you."

"Like she doesn't do the same to me? All that whiny, pouty shit she does for you, she tried for me at first, but I hurt her feelings because I didn't act like it was cute. It's pathetic"

"Alright, but as the professional, you're supposed to keep the appearance that she doesn't bother you. I'm just saying you could try playing it cool around her," Dick suggested.

Jason glared at him. "I wasn't hired to be nice to her."

"You're not getting paid to be an asshole either."

The harsh look deepened in the other man's green eyes. "What are we getting paid to do here exactly? She's not in any actual danger."

So that was his problem.

Dick sighed, but before he could provide some form of justification, Jason was pulling up your case files on his phone. He turned the screen to Dick.

"Look. Read it. Why'd we even accept this bullshit? He basically admits there's no real threat in the request," he said.

Dick took the small device and scanned over the document with his eyes. He didn't have to read it to know why they accepted it, of course. The money was great and the connections they could gain from it would be even better for the firm. He still skimmed the tiny words staring back at him though. The request for protection that asked you be assigned a full time guard in the potential event of political retaliation. Political retaliation that both sides of this arrangement knew was not coming. Your father had won his race by a comfortable margin. No one even attempted to contest the result. All of his positions were uncontroversial as well.

It was obvious to Dick that he and Jason were simple pawns in a power struggle here. They were the expendable pieces your father could tote around and punish you with for whatever reason. Maybe you'd been too outspoken about something. Maybe you had a tendency to get too wild when you went out. Maybe you'd just outsmarted the last move in this lifelong game of chess.

Whatever it had been, this was just the next subtle method of control. He'd seen it before in rich kids like you. Shitty as it was, it was part of this business.

Handing the phone back to the other man, he answered. "You know why we took it. And I know it's frustrating, but not every case is gonna be something out of an action movie. If he wants to pay for someone to ease his mind, then that's just how it is."

"He hired a babysitter for an adult," Jason spat with disdain, "That's all this is. The only thing I'm protecting her from is maxing out daddy's credit card or taking a laced bump at some shitty party."

"There are worse jobs in the world than watching over a pretty girl, Jason," Dick said and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh bullshit. This isn't just watching a pretty girl. This is listening to her run her fucking mouth. It's putting up with her bitching and moaning in my ear 24/7 about how she doesn't want me here."

"Look. It's not that hard to figure out," he interjected, "She was spoiled rotten growing up, but that also means she probably had a lot of people trying to control her life. She's getting her first real taste of freedom being out of college and living on her own, and then her dad takes it away by hiring us. Can you blame her for being a little pissy about it?"

"So what? Poor little rich girl. She has people who want to be involved with her life and make sure she has a future," he scoffed, "If she doesn't like that, she can take it out on her dad. Why do we have to deal with the fallout?"

"I know it's not what you want to be dealing with, but you're smart enough to know that things aren't that simple," he responded, "Everything in this place - the clothes she wears, the furniture we're sitting on, I'd bet even her phone she carries around - doesn't belong to her. None of it comes from her own money. Maybe her name's on the title of this place, but you know it's not really hers. She probably plays nice and puts up with things that don't really bug her to make sure he doesn't start taking it all away or offering to give it to her in the first place."

Jason still wouldn't drop his scowl. He understood Dick was right, but you were so goddamn irritating, he didn't want to admit you deserved even the smallest degree of grace.

"You don't have to act like a boyfriend or even her best friend," Dick offered as a compromise, "All I'm saying is that if you weren't so aggressive from the jump, she might feel more inclined to listen to you."

"She's a grown woman," Jason grumbled with hushed incredulity, "I shouldn't have to handle her like a little girl or a puppy or something."

"You're right. You shouldn't have to. But it's the way it is, so adapt or drive yourself crazy. It's your choice," he said.

"I guess," he huffed before slumping back in his seat a bit.

Dick relaxed back against the couch as well. Looking at Jason now, he couldn't help but think that part of the reason the two of you butted heads at every opportunity was because you both were in the running for the most headstrong person he'd ever met.

The next day, Dick made good on his promise to take you shopping. The two of you drove to an upscale mall and spent the next few hours roaming the wide corridors. He stayed close to your side, his muscular arms covered in the bands of your shopping bags as you led him from one place to the next. You talked his ear off, but he didn't mind. It was better than lounging around the penthouse and listening to you and Jason bicker. 

And in your defense, while you had him carrying all your stuff, you took plenty of chances to offer to buy him a few things. Anything his eyes lingered on for more than two seconds had you playfully waving around your card. Each time he'd decline. He had to keep some appearance of doing his job. Jason would never let him hear the end of it if he thought he indulged in this shopping spree too.

He was still somewhat playing his part though. His eyes scanned the exits and entries (when they weren't lingering on how your lip gloss shimmered on the soft curves of your mouth). He was focused on making sure no suspicious characters tried approaching you (when he wasn't ogling the way your t-shirt stretched across the swell of your chest). 

"So only one last place, right?" he checked while you typed away on your phone.

"Yup!" you chirped.

You trotted along a few more paces before coming to a stop in front of a store entryway framed by two dark, tile pillars. The words above glowed in a light, classic font. He eyed it and then shifted his gaze to the display windows. That was when he realized this was a store for lingerie.

He let out a laugh and shook his head. "Really?" he said, raising his brows at you.

"What?" you asked, "Don't tell me you're one of those guys that gets all weird about bras and panties. What do you think I'm wearing under this?"

"I don't really think it's my place to be imagining that," he chuckled.

"Well you don't gotta imagine right now. Just stay close to me while I pick some things out," you replied with your own little smile.

Unlike Jason, this wouldn't be a hill he died on. He followed you into the store and remained quiet within a few feet of you while you checked over the stands for items you liked. You seemed pretty picky when it came to this stuff. Your face contorted into contemplative expressions, weighing if you should go with the lacy black or the baby pink.

"So... do you actually have someone to wear these for or...?" he asked while trying to seem aloof.

"I wear them because I like them," you corrected while shooting him a playful glare, "But to answer your question, not yet."

"Ah, yet," he grinned.

"Mhm. It doesn't hurt to be prepared," you said.

He huffed out a small laugh and kept in line with your footsteps. After a while, you selected a few pairs and seemed almost ready to go. You weaved through the array of perfume stands and seasonal racks. On the way to the register though, your eyes caught on a pair of silk pajamas. They were dainty, thin, and striped. Just the kind of thing that looked as though it was sewn specifically for your closet.

"Oh my gosh. Dick, can you hold this?" you said. The question was pointless as you'd already shoved the basket of panties into his arms before the words finished leaving your lips.

You pranced to the display with the sleepwear and looked it over with adoring eyes. With a wave of your hand, you summoned a nearby attendant to ask for a set you could try on.

Moments later the worker guided the two of you towards the back of the store, showing you the changing area. It was nicer than most shops. A large mirror sat on the wall that was covered in floral paper. Next to it a small door concealed the private fitting section, and in the center was a couple seats.

The woman waved you in. She glanced over each of you with a tight-lipped smile before adding that "your boyfriend" was welcome to wait inside for you.

He opened his mouth to amend her definition of him, but before he got the chance, you chimed in with a cheerful "thank you!"

His eyes zipped from the exiting staff member to you. Upon looking in your eyes, he could see your amusement dancing there. You grabbed his free hand and led him to the plush couches. Then you took off with the pajamas in your hands into the private part of the room.

"So boyfriend, huh? Is that my title now?" he called to you through the open space above the door. While you changed, he set the endless supply of bags down on the loveseat across from the one he chose to sit down on.

"It could be," you replied, "Isn't it like safer if bad guys think a girl has a boyfriend?"

He'd dealt with clients flirting with him before, but never one as flagrant as you. Only one day with you, and he could tell you'd never experienced true shame in your two decades and some spare years of life.

"Yeah, I think so," he chuckled in return. Even though your confidence humored him, he couldn't deny the part of him that was flattered. The same part that got turned on.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you strutted out. Your luscious legs stretched out from the tiny shorts that bedizened your hips. The button-up top hung off your shoulders and framed the curves of your waist. With a few steps, you stood in front of him, as if you were a model in a fashion show organized personally for him.

"Exactly. So, how do I look, darling?" you teased, doing a little spin for him.

He reached out and grabbed your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your flesh squish beneath the pads of his digits. Your eyes connected with his as he dragged them up from your waist to your face.

"Stunning, sweetheart," he played right along.

A small giggle trickled from your lips before you turned to the side to assess your appearance in the mirror. He kept his grip on you. Both his and your eyes glided over your frame, lingering on his hands clasped around the bottoms.

"I'll have to get them then," you decided after a few moments.

His pupils shifted up, sparkling under the fluorescents on the ceiling. "I think that's a great choice. Though when you wear them later, you may want to fix the pocket," he said.

Trailing his right hand up from its post on your hip, his fingers coasted over your breast to the shirt pocket that was flipped slightly inside out. He pushed the material back into place, delving two digits beneath the silk flap. The tips teased the curve of your breast. They dragged on the skin just above your nipple through the cloth.

Fortunately for you, he pulled them out seconds later, allowing you to step back and hide the way the small bud had begun to pebble for him. The smirk on his face hinted that he still knew though.

"Ok, well I'm gonna change back. Then we can check out and go home. Maybe we could get some food on the way back or something," you said, laying out the plan as a distraction for the blooming heat you felt in your abdomen.

"Yeah, sounds good," he responded and shrugged.

He watched as you capered back behind that door. You were a tease through and through, and that couldn't have pleased him more. It's what made this all so easy. You could flirt and bat your eyelashes and speak in that seductively innocuous tone, but when you caught scent of any real arousal, you pulled back quicker than a skittish dog. 

It could make it easier for him to remain professional. A way of keeping him from crossing the line that was supposed to divide him and all clients. But it also made you so much more tempting. An elusive prey animal just begging to be caught.

The rest of that day followed the plan you had set in the dressing room.

You checked out of that last store then had Dick carry your collection of purchases to the car. The two of you picked up some food on the way home. Despite your lavish taste in just about everything else, when it came to dinner, you were a pretty cheap date.

When you made it back to the penthouse, Dick shoulders the weight of everything you bought again. The two of you don't bother asking Jason for help, knowing it would only cause more drama. Instead, he let the thin handles on the bags of clothes and jewelry and trinkets dig into his skin and nearly cut off his circulation.

Besides that though, everything went fine. Jason gave you both a look of disdain when he saw the evidence of your shopping trip, but he didn't comment. 

Maybe he was taking Dick's advice.

That seemed to be the case even as you came trotting down the stairs not too long later. You'd changed into your new silk set. The fabric didn't leave anything to the imagination in terms of your figure and that was what it did cover. Most of your legs and a sliver of your chest remained exposed to any eyes that should wander by.

You had a little smile on your face as you entered the room. Of course, you knew how you looked. You were bratty, not stupid.

Upon spotting Jason in the kitchen, you headed in that direction. He'd been standing in the corner where the counters met, eating something for a few moments. The calmness of solitude that had previously filled the space dissolved when he caught sight of you.

As much as he couldn't stand you, Jason was still human. His brows raised and his eyes stuck to your scantily-clad body, raking over your curves and smooth skin. You watched with absolute joy as he finally acknowledged you in some way other than a nuisance.

It only took him a few seconds to catch himself, but the damage had been done. You bounded over to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. He kept his eyes down now, intent on trying not to gauge if you were wearing a bra under that skimpy thing by how your breasts bounced.

"So Jason... What did you do while me and Dick were out?" you asked.

"Desperately awaited your return," he grumbled sarcastically.

The question obviously meant nothing to you. He could hear it in every syllable. It served as a placeholder. A plausible reason you could linger around him to flaunt yourself.

His response brought a laugh out of you in spite of the backhanded nature of the statement. "You could've come with us. It probably would've been more fun," you smiled.

"For you maybe."

"Well yeah for me," you said. You pushed off the island and stepped a few paces closer to him. "What do you think of my clothes? They're new. Dick said he liked them."

You did a small twirl like you had in the dressing room. An attempt to lure Jason's gaze back onto you. He didn't take the bait so easily though and locked his gaze on the food he'd been snacking on.

"If you got Dick's opinion, then why do you need mine?" he shot back.

"Cause I want it," you answered.

With a deep breath, he brought his eyes back to you. He could control himself, both his temper and other kinds of impulses. Plus, there was no way he was going to let you win. You had enough smugness in your voice as it was. No way was he gonna make the problem worse by letting you feel as though you had him intimidated.

"Looks the same as the ones you normally wear," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask that. I just wanna know if you like them."

"Why? Are you gonna throw a fit or something if I say no? Call daddy and have him hire someone with better taste to babysit you?" he mocked.

That put a scowl on your face, which made him smile. The two of you worked like a seesaw of emotions, one extreme on each side, animosity shifting so rapidly the bar could never rest at a balanced middle.

"No," you scoffed with a glare, "I was just trying to be nice to you-"

"Oh really? It felt more like you were fishing for compliments to me," he said, "You bought the clothes, so obviously you like them. Why do you need me validating your choice?"

God, this felt so much better than getting worked up over you. Watching your face morph into increasingly petulant expressions gave Jason more joy than imagining the day a month from now when this job would finally be done.

"Whatever," you huffed and rolled your eyes before retreating to the living room to be with Dick.

That was fine with him. He didn't cause a blow up or have to deal with Dick's lecture while simultaneously getting you out of his immediate vicinity. Though, that was probably for the best for reasons other than his anger too. 

He would never ever admit it out loud, especially not after the point he'd made about it last night, but seeing you in that tiny get up, all desperate for his approval... it had him craving some alone time to quell the heat he felt beginning to simmer within.

He cleaned up his plate that was now empty and then ran a hand through his hair. His eyes shut for a moment, and he let out a sigh. After a few moments, he decided he didn't need to shove down the feelings. He'd been pent up enough over the last week. Nonstop hours of you trying to get under his skin and make him snap. It left him yearning for some outlet, for some relief. Maybe that was why he was so pissed off all the time.

Right now, Dick was with you. The chances of you wandering up to his room to bother him were slim. He could sneak off for a while, spend some quality time with his right hand and chill the fuck out.

So that's what he did. He headed off upstairs and shut the door to his room.

Now you sat beside Dick on the couch as an old movie played on the tv. You were so close to him that your bare thighs rested against the grey cotton of his sweatpants.

It wasn't that late, but only a third of the way into the movie you felt yourself sinking into the cushions behind you, tiredness overtaking your body. Your eyes grew droopy and glazed as you tried watching the action playing out in front of you.

A few minutes later, you started to accept this might be a pointless effort. In your defense, shopping was a tiring activity! Malls were big and required lots of steps to get through. When you combined that with doing all the spending math in your head, talking to Dick, and trying things on, it made sense that you were beat.

You let your head slump over and hit his shoulder. Your temple thudded against the curve of it as a yawn made its way out of you. You brought your legs closer to your body and wrapped one of your hands around his bicep as well. If you were gonna go for an inch, why not take the whole mile?

His head swiveled in your direction when he felt the gentle contact. He didn't protest like you knew Jason would have though. Rather, he let you grip onto his muscular arm and rest against his broad frame before bringing his free hand over to smooth down the nape of your neck.

"Are we still playing boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked.

Your eyes fluttered open as you tilted your face up to look at him. After a moment's thought, you bobbed your head in a lazy nod.

Upon seeing your confirmation, a lascivious smile spread across his lips. He leaned back further into the couch himself and stretched his legs out onto the extended part of the sectional. Once he was adjusted, he pulled his arm free of your grasp. You showed slight dismay at first, displeased with the loss of support and heat. Though it quickly evaporated as he draped it over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

"Well if I was your boyfriend," he said, drawing out the syllables pointedly, "I think we'd be sitting like this."

Even in your tired condition, you felt a bit flustered. You wouldn't show that though. It would take more to get you to willingly show how he affected you. You snuggle into his sculpted side and nestle your face against his chest. Below his skin, you hear the faint but steady beat of his heart.

"You're probably right," you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, "It's comfier like this."

"Mhm. Safer too," he teased.

You nodded, not needing words this time around. One of your arms encircled his waist to keep you snug against him while you continued to watch the movie. 

It was honestly a miracle in your own eyes that you hadn't passed out yet in the few seconds you'd been sitting like this. He was so warm, and he smelled so good, like fresh laundry. And now his hand had started rubbing up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his palm and the perfect amount of pressure seemed like it would be lulling you into unconsciousness in minutes.

But then he spoke again.

"And if I was your boyfriend, we'd be doing a lot more than just watching this movie," he whispered.

The words hit your ears in soft puffs of air, sending chills down your spine. You bit your lip and willed your eyes to open wider before looking at him again.

"What else would we be doing?" you asked.

"What do you think? With you sitting here, all cute in your little outfit..." he began, lowering his mouth to your neck. A soft gasp left you as he began laying kisses up your throat to your ear. His teeth scraped over your earlobe before his tongue grazed the skin behind it. "I think I'd have a pretty hard time keeping my hands to myself," he finished lowly.

The skin of your shoulders prickled beneath the satiny material of your top and continued to do so down your arms and legs. You weren't completely inexperienced, but you'd never had such intense attention focused on you. You'd never felt like the center of someone's entire world like you did right now.

Your hand lands on his thigh, gripping the meat of it with your fingers. You turn your head into a brief kiss before pulling back an inch.

"If you were my boyfriend, you wouldn't have to keep your hands to yourself," you murmured.

And that was the last thing he needed to hear.

He dove in and kissed you like it was the millionth time. His lips moved against your own sensually before his tongue found its way into your mouth. A tender moan slipped out of you in response. He played the part of your boyfriend better than any actual candidate for the role before him.

Your palm migrated up from his thigh to his lap. With a few delicate swipes, you coaxed a bulge into rising against the fabric of his pants. Your hand then fled the area and trailed up his abs onto his chest. Every inch of him felt as though it had been crafted by divine beings. A gift for anyone who should have the pleasure of experiencing him.

He tugged you closer, guiding you so close that you were all but in his lap. His right hand groped the dough of your ass while his left crept onto your breast and gave it the squeeze he had wanted to earlier in the changing room.

You squeaked like a chew toy in response, which drew a laugh out of him. He teased the mound again by kneading it a few more times. His fingers dragged across the soft curves before zeroing in on your nipple, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive little nub. That brought some whines out of you.

"My little girlfriend's so responsive," he whispered. 

He knew he was acting like an idiot right now. He wasn't just crossing every client-contractor line in the book, he was practically leaping over them with joy. If Jason came down here and saw this opening to a porno playing out on the couch, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't stop now. The way you arched into his touch was fucking intoxicating. You had him hooked, and he hadn't gotten farther than feeling up your tits.

And then you whimpered and nipped at his bottom lip. It wasn't like you could really defend yourself from his words. Every touch had you keening for more.

He hummed at the mini bite before pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. The arm wrapped around your back continued to support you while the set of fingers that had been playing with your chest fell towards the junction of your thighs. You seemed a little nervous at the start of the descent, but by the time his hand made it there, your legs spread open for him with no hesitation.

Both of your harsh breaths drowned out the sounds from the movie that had been long forgotten by now. And then your soft, sweet moans joined them.

He started out with a few loving caresses over your center. A few pets to get you warmed up. It was all you needed to let out those cute little noises. You rolled your hips at his hand, already signaling your need for more.

Without a second thought, he obliged you. His hand slid beneath your waistband and into your panties before his fingers slotted between your lips, finding your clit with expertise. They danced over your bundle of nerves and pressed down on it. More whines trickled from your mouth. He could only hope his lips on yours did a sufficient job of muffling them.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned, "You're so cute. Not worried about anything but feeling good."

You bucked your hips without a care in the world now, just like he said. They rocked up into the friction his digits were providing. Wet sloshing sounds emanated from where his hand moved beneath your shorts.

After a little while longer of just touching, he worked a finger inside of you. Then another. He pumped them in and out, relishing each precious mewl that erupted from you in turn. His digits curled. Each stroke inside you brushed a tender spot that made your thighs quiver and jerk.

"Fuck," you inhaled sharply before reaching forward to try palming at him, a haphazard attempt at returning the favor.

His free hand brushed yours away though. Those cerulean eyes glimmered with cockiness.

"I can take care of myself, baby. I'm being paid to service you, remember?" he purred.

Your eyes rolled back, and your head followed in that direction, hitting the backing of the couch. You weakly nodded before allowing the pleasurable sensations to cloud your head. He just kept thrusting his two fingers in and out while his palm ground against your clit.

You vaguely felt him start to grind his hips against the side of your leg. He used the pressure as stimulation, giving himself some muted relief while tending to you.

In the throes of bliss, you hadn't realized how close you were until the edge was right there. You whined and squirmed, trying to alert him that you were a few skillful pumps away from unraveling.

"Dick... gonna..." you whimpered.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're getting nice and tight," he murmured.

You nodded. Your lip started to jut out, those pouty habits making themselves known in the heat of the moment. He grinned before kissing it away.

"Let go, baby. Soak through your new shorts. Get 'em all messy for me," he cooed.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your toes curled. It was impossible to resist the urge to release when he was guiding you to it like that. Your whole body tensed up and then relaxed over and over, the highs of pleasure washing over you in waves.

He watched every little move you make, drank it all up like a dehydrated man in the middle of the Sahara.

"You look so pretty while you cum," he praised. You heard him say the words; though, they sounded distant amidst the haze of bliss surrounding you.

When you finished, he could tell you were exhausted. Your eyelids drooped as if keeping them open was an impossible task. You laid there limp beside him, just about ready to melt into the couch.

He chuckled and slipped his hand from your shorts. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked them clean and then ducked in for one last kiss. You squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. He let you taste yourself for a moment before retreating.

Even though he hadn't cum himself, he figured it would be fine for tonight. There were four weeks left of this job after all. He'd have more time with you. Tonight he could deal with finishing himself off in his room after taking you to bed.

He shut the tv off and then scooped you up. Your body draped between his two arms. You didn't complain or protest; rather, just leaned your head into his shoulder and accepted the aid. He walked with you up the stairs, down the walkway to your bedroom. The last door on the path.

Nudging the door open with his foot, he crossed the threshold into your space. It appeared like the rest of the apartment, just more concentrated. A more pure embodiment of you. All the other parts of this place he'd seen had traces of your personality throughout, but each and every part of this room represented a piece of you.

He didn't spend any time snooping around or getting a better look. Like the perfect gentleman, he placed you in bed, draped a blanket over your body, and made sure you were situated. Then he retraced his steps back out into the hall. He headed down to the guest room and slipped inside, planning on taking care of himself and then passing out for the night.

The next morning, Dick woke to a thudding on the wall behind his headboard. Knock. Knock. Knock. The noises pounded against the barrier in an even-rhythm, every second or so. He wasn't sure how long they'd been going on by the time he reached full consciousness. They'd invaded the last part of his dream, so he assumed maybe a few minutes.

Even though the sounds should probably concern him, all he felt was annoyance. The wall behind his bed was the one connected to Jason's. He figured the noises were a result of him working out or moving some things around. Maybe you two had gotten into another argument and he was packing his things in anger.

Dick dragged himself out of bed and stretched. He'd slept longer than usual last night. A lazy smile rose to his face as details came flooding back to him. How you'd felt around his fingers and whined for him to keep pleasuring you.

Once he'd figured out what the noise was about, maybe he'd head over to your room, see if you were up yet. It'd been less than twelve hours, but he was already craving another taste of you.

He stepped out into the hallway, walking in the direction of the room the noise was coming from. As he got closer, he could hear some grunting too. It sounded pretty intense. Either Jason was working out really hard or you'd really pissed him off. Maybe a combination of both.

"Hey, Jason. Some of us are trying to sleep. You don't need to compete with the construction crews around the rest of the city with all this-" he started to call out, but the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the source of the banging.

He felt like a flash grenade had gone off in the room he was looking into. The source of the loud sounds was no longer a mystery. It was coming from Jason's headboard slamming into the wall. The headboard was doing that because the man in question was kneeling on the bed with you pinned down in front of him, fucking you like he was an animal in heat. Dick saw your body jerk in panic as soon as you heard the sound of his voice close in.

"Jesus, man!" Dick said and spun away from the explicit sight before him. His mind reeled and tried to grasp onto what he just witnessed.

As he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he just saw Jason balls deep inside you, he also realized that the lewd noises weren't stopping. He slowly turned back to get another glance - just a curious one, he told himself.

His eyes found the two of you again. Jason kneeled on the edge of the bed. One of his large hands gripped your hip while the other held your face down against the pillows. Now that Dick was really listening, he could hear your little muffled whines and squeaks.

Jason's body glowed, flush from arousal and shimmering with a sheen of sweat. Your limbs were folded up like pieces of a portable chair. Dick tried not to focus on the flicker of heat in his gut, and instead, think about how even with another set of eyes, neither of you had stopped going at it. In your defense, he didn't think the decision was up to you. Jason had manhandled you into a position that gave him all the leverage.

Finally after another second or two, the other man looked his way.

"You need something, Dick?" Jason grunted as though he'd been interrupted while reading a book rather than pounding you into the mattress.

He blinked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Do you really have to ask that? You're not a prude, and you're far from innocent," he mocked. His voice was breathless as though he found some deep satisfaction in this act. Dick believed that. He'd felt how soft and tight your cunt was last night, warm enough to melt even someone as tough as Jason down a bit.

"I'm not a prude, but you could at least shut the door," he responded. The absurdity of this situation then began to dawn on him. He stepped closer to the bed. "Really, Jason. What the fuck are you doing? She's a client," he finally said.

That brought a laugh out of the younger man. "Client, huh? That's not what I was hearing last night when you had her out on the couch."

Dick tensed in the face of the accusation. Shit. He'd thought the two of you had been quiet enough. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"That's different..." he defended weakly.

In reality, he of course knew that it wasn't. Him fooling around with you last night was, on a technical level, no different from what Jason was doing now. Either one if found out by your father, their employer, would get them fired and possibly slapped with a lawsuit.

But he did feel it was honestly different on some level. He'd just been playing with you. Going along with your flirting. Having some fun. Jason was fucking you. Every thrust was like an act of revenge for all the pouting and whining and huffy glares. He bullied his cock deep into your cunt with every swing of his hips. Your body jolted from his momentum, your fingers curled around the edges of the pillow. It was intense and raw.

"It is not," Jason denied, "Plus, I thought you'd be happy. We're not arguing anymore. You wanted me to act cool with her? Well she thinks this is pretty fuckin' cool. Don't you, princess?"

Before you could mumble something against the satiny linens below you, he looped an arm around your neck and pulled you up against him. You squealed at the sharp angle this new position put you at. Your eyes rolled back, and the only sounds that came from your lips immediately were hazy babbles.

You eventually collected yourself enough to nod. He laughed in your ear, slotting his face right next to yours. You could feel his breaths against your cheek, his sweat smearing on your skin.

"Use your words, sweetheart," he purred.

A shudder coursed its way through you. Your dazed eyes opened just enough to connect with Dick's bright blue ones. You didn't know what to say, so you let out the easiest thing you could think of.

"F-feels good..."

Dick nearly winced at the fucked-out sound of your voice. It was sultry and slurred. If you weren't so disgustingly rich, he was sure you'd make a killing doing this stuff on camera.

His eyes scraped over the shape Jason had you propped in now. Your body was arched like a bow, tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. He had your arms hooked over one of his behind your back while his other was wrapped around your throat. Your chin rested on the thick muscles there. Saliva spilled from your mouth while the beginnings of tears pricked at your eyes.

Everything about it was turning him on, but he tried to disguise that fact. He shifted where he stood in an attempt to readjust himself and not let his cock fill out. But then his eyes caught on the slight bulge in your stomach. The faint outline that protruded in rhythm with the man behind you thrusting.

He almost came on the spot. A groan worked its way up his throat, and he ran a hand over his face into his messy hair.

Jason huffed out a laugh at the noise. "You should've seen her. She came in here trying to pick a fight. Probably a warm up before she scampered off to your room to get you to relieve her frustration."

"Nuh uh," you whimpered pitifully.

In response, he released your arms and shoved you down onto the mattress again. You whined at the force he put into slamming your face against the blankets. His hips rutted into you even harder too, clearing any further words of denial from your mind.

"I wasn't asking," he chided. He gave your ass a firm slap before holding onto your hips. 

You mewled and clawed at the soft bedding.

"Maybe you are being honest though. Maybe you didn't plan on getting Dick to help you out. You probably knew he couldn't give it to you like you needed," he said. His green eyes flitted up to the man standing beside the bed, letting him know it was an open challenge.

Dick knew he shouldn't take the bait. This was weird enough as it was, standing there and watching the two of you fuck. But wouldn't it be weirder not getting involved? If he just left, he'd still be half-hard. He'd probably skulk off back to his room to jerk off, and that would be more pathetic than whatever he was about to agree to.

"Sure, Jason. If that's what you have to tell yourself," he mocked, "She knows how good I can make her feel. She just knows that you're easier."

Jason’s usual scowl appears on his face. "You cracked first. Gave into her and acted all sweet," he grumbled.

"Yeah, but look at you. She didn't have to work at all to get you to fuck her," he taunted, "I'm sure she'll be so tempted to not act out anymore when this is how you deal with it."

He closed the gap between himself and the bed, reaching for your face. He cupped your jaw and tilted your head upwards to face him. Swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, he smirked at the cute, pouty look on your face.

Jason growled and tugged you back. His hips clapped against your ass. You whined in a mixture of pleasure and pain, screwing your eyes shut. He leaned over your body like a dog guarding its favorite toy while continuing to pound into you.

"You know I'm right," Dick said, "You're so rough because you know you have to compensate."

Now Jason was actually getting a little pissy. He was the one who made this competitive, but it didn't take much to trigger his temper.

He let go of your body and pulled out. "You think you can do better? Go ahead then," he said, gesturing to your twitching form. You whined at the emptiness you now felt, but it did nothing to change his mind. He gave you a quick swat between your legs, ripping a cry from you. 

"No whining, little brat," he said, "Not when you're getting so much attention. More than you deserve."

Dick watched with interest before connecting his stare with the other man's.

"You just want me to what? Strip down and fuck her?" he asked.

"Why not? Don't act like you don't want to. I can see the tent in your pants," he responded.

Looking down, he knew he was right. The front of his sweats had puffed out with his desire. He didn't bother feeling embarrassed about it right now though. Jason was shameless as could be, so why should he try to keep up an appearance of modesty?

He shrugged and began peeling off his t-shirt before pushing his pants and boxers to the floor. Both pieces crumple up next to his feet as his cock comes into view. He gives it a few lazy strokes while reaching for you.

You glanced up at him, your pupils dilating upon seeing his length. It was slightly skinnier than Jason's but just as long. Your mouth watered for a taste. He chuckled, your admiration stroking his ego.

"Come here, baby," he cooed, much more gentle than Jason.

The sound of his voice revived you from your fucked out state, and you were happy to be guided into his arms. He sat against the headboard and took you onto his lap. Pressing a few kisses to your lips, he ran his fingers down your jawline.

He knew he wouldn't have to do anything to get you ready. You were already dripping onto his thighs from the mess Jason left between your legs. He shifted you around by your waist, laying you back against his chest. The both of you faced Jason who sat at the end of the bed.

"You think you can ride for me?" he murmured against the shell of your ear.

Your legs were wobbly and your mind still felt a little cloudy from the euphoria Jason pumped into your veins, but you nodded anyways, not wanting to disappoint Dick.

He rewarded you with a grin and pecked your temple. "Such a good girl. Gonna show him how sweet you can be when you're treated right, huh?"

Again, you nodded, but he also caught Jason rolling his eyes.

You rose onto your feet and positioned yourself above his lap. He helped you out a little, lining his shaft up at your entrance and sliding it through your slick.

Slowly, you began sinking down on him. He couldn't help the choked moan that slipped out of his mouth. "Fuck, you're tight," he rasped.

You didn't let up, lowering yourself all the way down in one go. Your ass rested against his pelvis, and he gave you a few moments to adjust. Hell, he needed them too to catch his breath. He couldn't cum too quickly right now. Not with Jason watching. He'd never hear the end of it.

But eventually you do start to bounce. His hands hold onto the little divots in your side to help you keep balance. Your warm slippery walls squeeze around him with each of your movements.

More whiny sounds seep from your lips. They were higher-pitched than last night. Less drawn out and delirious. Each time you took him all the way, your hips jerked. He reached around, swirling his fingers over your clit.

"So sensitive," he teased.

You whimpered and continued to bounce yourself in haphazard bursts. Your pussy gushed for him, your juices dripping down to his balls. By the time you finished, there would be a wet patch for sure.

He tilted his head back against the headboard, just letting himself feel for a moment. Meanwhile, your eyes meet Jason's. He had a fist wrapped around his cock. He kept his strokes slow, as if trying to hide the fact that he was doing it at all.

"Feeling good?" he asked, but you know it was intended to mock you, "You like sweet and gentle? Better than how I do it?"

Before you could answer, Dick slammed you down on his cock. Your eyes fluttered, and you loosened up, allowing him to take over in lifting you up and down on his shaft.

"If you're asking, that means you know you're losing," Dick chimed in a sing-song voice.

That just spiked Jason’s blood pressure. He stood up. "My turn again," he demanded.

Dick openly laughed in his face while continuing to pump you like a fleshlight. "No," he said.

"Yeah. You've had your turn, now it's mine. Give her back," he said. He was getting more agitated because he realized how petulant he sounded.

It only brought more laughter from Dick. "Give her back? What is she? Your favorite doll or something?" he taunted, "It doesn't really seem like she wants to go back to you. I think I'll keep her here till she finishes."

"You're the one who interrupted."

"You're the one who practically invited me to."

"I don't care. You had enough time, now it's my turn to show you. I'll get her at fucking gunpoint if I have to."

Both of them knew he was just blowing off steam. When Jason got mad, he would say things like that without thinking twice. But you'd never heard his voice so gruff, dripping with the potential for violence. When he got pissed at you, he was annoyed and agitated. Frustrated more than anything else. This was something else, and it turned you on.

You clenched around Dick's cock and let out a shaky whine. They simultaneously dropped their bickering and looked at you. Dick slowed the pace as he eyed you, but Jason's lips curved upward. 

"Oh you like that idea?" he chuckled, "Thought you were afraid of guns, princess?"

"I- I am," you said, trying to backtrack.

His dark locks swayed from side to side as he shook his head. The moment he headed towards the nightstand Dick knew what he was doing.

"Jason-" he started, but his gun was already in his hand. The dark pistol pointed towards you.

"Come here," he said.

Your eyes widened, thighs quivering as Dick stopped moving you and let you slide off of him. He watched as his cock slid out of you, still coated in your arousal. You crawled forward towards the man pointing the gun at you.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair when you were close enough and dragged you the rest of the way. His cock kicked at the yelp you let out.

"That's a good girl. You know to come when you're called," he praised.

You whimpered in response, looking up at him with wide, puppy-eyes. He didn't soften in the slightest though. Scooping you from behind, he dumped you onto your back.

"Spread your legs for me nice and wide," he directed. You clasped your own legs behind the knee and made sure there was ample room for him to get at your center.

The gun remained aimed at you. It kept your heart pumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. A sick combination of fear and lust ran through your limbs. Jason didn't mind the shakiness though. With his free hand, he guided his thick cock back to your entrance and slid right in.

"Fuck, you take it so well for such a prissy little thing," he growled.

He didn't give you the adjustment period like Dick had. Instead, he pushed all the way in and then dragged his hips back before slamming in again. You mewled at the stretch. The sweet burn of him splitting your cunt open.

"Jason..." Dick said again in the tone of a parent about to count to three.

Jason didn't drop it though. He leaned forward, pressing the cool metal barrel against your shoulder and folding you in half under his bulky frame. He was so deep inside you that you couldn't really say he was thrusting anymore. Just grinding his hips. Deep, even rolls. Those tears that had been teasing you before leaked out freely now. You hiccuped out a broken sob as he continued fucking you within an inch of your life.

"She's fine," he grunted, trying to suppress a moan of his own, "Fuck... you know I'm careful."

It was true. Dick didn't actually believe Jason would shoot you, but still, this felt like the exact opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. This was probably the most danger you'd been in over the course of your entire life. It was definitely the first time you'd had a gun aimed at you.

Heat sweltered between you and Jason, making it almost impossible to breathe. Your head lolled back in search of some relief. Some semblance of breathing room. But he was just all around you. Every part of your body felt under his control.

Your vision went spotty for a moment, but when you came back, you saw Dick's face above yours. Jason had leaned back a bit, allowing you to cool down. His hips maintained a steady rhythm though. 

The older man stared down at you, stroking your cheek gently. He swiped your tears away with your thumb. His palms kept your head cradled as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. It just made you cry more.

"You're so pretty crying like that," he crooned. His knuckles swept over your heated skin. "Such a sweet girl. Not used to getting it so rough."

"She'll be used to it by the time the month is over," Jason said. He put the gun aside now, using both hands to hold onto you.

Dick rolled his eyes and continued showering you with soft words and tender touches. It was like each half of your body was in a separate world.

You could tell Jason was close by the way his thrusts were becoming more sporadic. His breaths puffed out in harsh pants while his fingers gripped you tight enough to bruise. Luckily, you were getting there too.

The only one left behind was Dick, but he wasn't worried. He had the patience for you.

Jason thumbed your clit, dragging you the rest of the way to the finish line. You came with a scream so loud that both of them were thankful the penthouse suite meant no neighbors to hear you. Your body quivered and convulsed. You sobbed out cries for both of them. Your hands flew to Dick's wrist to hold onto something.

Jason kept pumping into you for a few moments more, but you were tight as a vise. He knew he was about to cum, and he knew he should pull out. But as he was going to, you locked your shaky legs around him and shook your head.

"I'm-" you tried before cutting yourself off with a whimper, "I'm on the pill."

In that moment, it was like he heard an angel speak to him. He slammed into you as hard as he could and collapsed onto your body. His larger chest crushed you against the bed, his face nuzzling into your neck as he spilled himself inside you. You swore you heard him whine, but it was hard to tell with everything going on.

He fucked his cum into you, not pulling out until he was completely satisfied. Once he was and that dreamy bliss of post-release had settled over him, he reluctantly rolled off and landed next to you flat on his back. His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

But you weren't done yet. Dick slid around to where he had been and pushed his cock into your hole that was still leaking Jason's cum.

"The best goes on last," he teased with a lazy smirk.

He sighed, his long lashes dusting his cheeks at the sensation. His grip was much softer. He took his thrusts slower too, knowing your poor pussy was aching from how rough Jason got.

You whimpered and twitched at the slight overstimulation.

"Shhh, doing good for me," he cooed, "Pussy's so warm and soft. She wants me. I’ll make her feel all better."

The sounds coming from where your bodies connected were absolutely obscene. And even though Dick wasn't going as fast, he was getting just as deep. His tip brushed your sweet spot over and over. Your toes curled and your back arched. This time it was Jason you held onto. You gripped his hand tight as you could, and he let you. He didn't baby you like Dick did, but he allowed you the comfort of his large, warm palm around yours.

You were totally gone by the time Dick was ready to let go. He angled his hips to guide you into another release. Your walls fluttered around his length. His head tilted back and he let out a groan, feeling his own peak bubble up inside him.

He came inside too, pumping your cunt full of another load. Like Jason, he fucked it all in. He stayed snug in the tight grip of your pussy for a moment before pulling out. Sticky, white cum gushed out, dripping down onto the bed.

Dick landed on the opposite side of you from Jason. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

The three of you laid in silence for a little while. For you, it was out of pure exhaustion. You wondered if it was that for them too, or if they were processing what they'd done. The lines they'd crossed and the secret they'd now have to keep.

But you didn't get the chance to dwell on it for too long because soon enough, Dick guided you off the bed.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said.

With a hand on the small of your back, he led you to your bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. You assumed Jason stayed behind to take care of the bedding, but you didn't ask.

Dick drew you a bath and helped you in. He did like he said he would, cleaned you up. Every move he made he did so with all the care in the world. Gentle hands wiping the dried drool and tear streaks from your face.

When you were done, he helped you out and dried you off. He let you go about the other parts of putting yourself back together on your own, taking a few moments to tend to himself. 

You didn't know how the rest of the day would look. If things would be awkward now or if they just wouldn't acknowledge what happened. You waited on your bed for Dick, dressed in a pair of fresh clothes and your skin smooth after being lathered in lotion.

He came in after you a few minutes later. Immediately, your fears of things being weird were extinguished by the smile he gave you. The same charming one he'd had since a few days ago. He climbed on the bed with you and laid back against your pillows. You followed in suit, leaning your head against his shoulder.

You were content like this, just relaxing with him. In the back of his mind, he knew this was the quietest you'd been since he arrived.

Moments later the door opened and Jason came in. He crossed the room without a word. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but he basically answered the question when he reached the other side of your bed.

He laid down next to you like Dick had on your other side. You eyed him suspiciously. Never would you have imagined he'd willingly spend time with you. He caught the look though and gave it his usual frown.

"What?" he scoffed, "I was the one actually hired to watch you. I gotta make sure you're not getting into trouble."

Unlike before, his speaking didn't provoke you to whine or insult. Instead, you smiled and wrapped your arm around his bicep.

"It's ok. I won't make you admit that you wanna cuddle too," you grinned.

He shook his head in denial. "I'm just doing my job," he asserted, "Plus, I think I won the contest, so it only makes sense that I'm the one who stays with you."

"Hey, we never decided on a winner," Dick cut in.

"I mean, we didn't have to because it was pretty obvious."

"Well we got a whole month, so if you're so confident, we can always have a rematch later," Dick challenged.

"Um, you guys didn't even ask for my vote on who I think won," you interrupted with a pout.

They both turn their eyes to you. For once, Jason didn’t look at you with total disdain. In this moment, you could see some fondness under the top coat of annoyance.

"There's that attitude. I guess it was naive of me to hope we fucked it out of you," he said.

Dick chuckled at that. "It'll take a couple more rounds before that's even a real possibility."

You glared at the both of them, but like Jason, your eyes didn't hold real anger or frustration now. Only the hope that they'd try to put you back in line again.

established!vi x reader

vi tells you caitlyn asked her to join the enforcers. it doesn't go well.

"She asked you to join the Enforcers," you say blankly, staring Vi dead in the eye before you burst out laughing. Vi watches as you do, her expression painfully contorted into something oddly unreadable.

You laugh and laugh, waiting for Vi to join in with you until you realise that she can't.

You stop laughing and go emotionally, so quick that it's terrifying. Vi doesn't blame you, though and tries not to hide from the emptiness of your stare.

"I..." Vi starts, trying to find the words. "I can see where she's coming from."

"Bullshit," you reply immediately, rage building but not quite ready to burst. "That's bullshit, Vi and you know it."

Vi nods for a moment but then shakes her head, conflicted.

"Pow—Jinx has done so much wrong," Vi says, pained. "And I just know that my little sister would never commit the heinous crimes she's done." She runs a hand through her hair, sinking further. "Fuck, she wouldn't...she'd never do all that shit and not feel a single ounce of remorse—"

"Vi," You interrupt sharply, and that stops Vi, your tone deadly. "I don't think you understand all that has happened. I can't even believe that you would consider joining them." Your voice is rising. "After everything they've done to us!"

"You think I want to join them!?" Vi fires back. "I think I would enjoy being on their side. You should know me better than that!"

"I thought I did!" You yell, your rage now a burning inferno. "Vi, this isn't the way to do things. Yes, what Powder has done is beyond merciless, but you need to stop and consider why!"

"So she can kill more people?" Vi says, and it's so blunt that it knocks you in the stomach. "You and I both know... that Powder, our Powder, is gone. And the sooner we accept that... the better it is for all of us."

There's a moment of silence, heavy around both of you, and it's just...it's too much.

You can't believe it.

That Vi would just do this.

"...Okay," you say lowly, and you turn around before walking away. You hear Vi call after you, her voice getting louder and louder the further you go.

You turn around, look into her desperate eyes before saying, "you've made your choice."

And then you're gone.

VENOMIZED?! t. fushiguro

❤︎ sum. your ex-fiancé needs a favor from you — just one more, he swears! apparently, he’s got some weird “parasite” that for some reason is very attracted to your sweet, sweet scent..

wc. 9.2k

warnings. fem! reader, venom! toji, modern au, pre-established relationship, pining, some spoilers + movie references, reader's a doctor (allegedly), unprotected, venom's dialogue is in bold, venom's tendrils, long tongues, brief bj's, manhandling, getting pounded silly in venom’s suit, choking, size kinks, L bombs, cunnīlingus, twice the stamina, marathons, fīngering, riding toji ‘till he cries, venom's kinda unserious, dīck slipping, cęrvix mentions, spitting on it, bręeding, squīrting, tummy bulges.

an. i’m ovulating and rewatched all three venom movies hear me OUT-

“pussy.”

“venom, man- please.”

“what.”

furrowing your brows, you stared at toji, the man who you were originally supposed to marry just six months ago. in the flesh, he stands tall behind the door of your office with a sheepish expression. he looks tired, ruffled hair buried underneath a sideways baseball cap while wearing some dingy sweats. “are you talking to yourself?”

“eheh- well,” toji gruffs, darting lime eyes toward your teal scrubs. he’s missed you. to think if he hadn’t been stupid enough to snoop through your life foundation files to expose confidential information regarding their private business practices. his silly little mistake ended up getting you both fired, but fate loved playing in your face because you almost forgot that you were still toji’s doctor at your other job. clearing his scratchy throat, toji sighs. “i’m dyin’ here, doc. need a checkup.”

“she smells good.”

“yeah, she does smell good.”

“what?” you eyed toji, wondering just who the hell he was even talking to.

toji looks at you, scratching behind his neck. “ah- sorry,” and you notice how he’s a lot veinier than usual. toji did a quick scan around the spacious, empty doctor’s office before he slightly tilted his head down. “long story short, sugar, i got a … parasite.”

“PARASITE!?”

“parasite?” you repeated with a deadpan, grabbing your clipboard near your desk.

oh for the love of . .

you thought you’d never see toji again. letting off a sigh of your own, you pat the cerulean-blue hospital bed. “sit.”

hoarsely scoffing, toji makes his way toward the bed before flopping on it with a loud ‘oof.’ scratching his head, he turns toward you as he sees you writing something down—probably information regarding his chart. “so… how ya been?”

“toji, let’s just make sure you’re alright.”

“fine, fine,” he grumbles, getting smacked face first with the thick tension swarming the air that could be cut with a knife.

there was obvious tension between the two of you, and toji was still head over heels in love with you. in fact—he’s never stopped, and he regrets every day choosing his career over his relationship.

if he could start over, hell - he would.

the two of you had plans and everything after getting married. settle down, maybe move out of san francisco, maybe even live near the countryside. you both even had a brief small talk about children too, but seeing you again just reminded him of how much he screwed up.

“what’s . . the problem, exactly? you said you have a what- parasite?”

your sweet tone snaps him out of his thoughts and his droopy, grassy eyes flick down to meet your gaze. “oh- uh, yeah. you’re the only person i thought of comin’ to. last doctor, i went to called me crazy and uh … called a swat team…. ha.”

“ooookay…” you curl a brow inward, hoping the last part was just another one of his unfunny jokes. “and does this ‘parasite’ make you talk to yourself or is that just toji being toji?”

“she’s sassy.”

toji rolls his eyes, disregarding venom’s instigating comments in his head before shrugging. “sometimes. he’s annoying.”

“he?”

“my uh- parasite. he hates being called ‘it.’ goes by venom ‘n everything,” toji explains, his hands still buried deep into the pockets of his cottony sweats. as you glance up to get a good look at him, he’s sweating bullets—all from the sides of his forehead too. “oh, ‘m fine. ‘s just a bit hot in here.”

“the a/c’s on.”

“oh..” toji murmurs, slouching a bit on the bed. to say he’s feeling hot is an understatement. it’s like the more he stared at you, the more he started to feel the unsteady beats of his heart pick up.

ba-dump after ba-dump after ba-dump! and he could even start to hear each pulse through his ears, traveling through his veins.

toji clenches his tense jaw as he tries to listen to you. you’re rambling a bunch of medical terminology about checking his vitals and blood pressure and he’s replying with uninterested head nods.

oh fuck.

venom’s getting excited.

it’s probably been about five months since the little ‘incident’ occurred where he ended up getting venom.

long story short—toji was snooping around the headquarters of the life foundation where he found actual test subjects. not animals, not insects but people. live, living, and breathing people, and before he could even think of pulling out his phone to record the things he saw - bam!

one of the test subjects—a girl, sneaks up from behind and attacks toji.

little did he know that a ‘parasite’ that was once inside her ended up slipping inside of him. the parasite is known as ‘venom.’ to sum it all up toji was a perfect match, the perfect host.

“toji, are you even listening to me?”

“yeah, toji. our wife’s talking to us.”

“shut up.” he grumbles, shaking his head.

“excuse me?”

“not you- ah, fuck,” toji takes off his ball cap, running a hand through his greasy darkened strands.

he’s been so kept in his thoughts that he didn’t feel you checking his vitals and blood pressure which was oddly higher than a usual human.

toji sits on the sheet-covered bed, the blood pressure cuff still wrapped ‘round his beefy bicep before he sighs deeply again. “i don’t.. wanna waste yer time. i doubt you’ll find what’s wrong, er- medically. it’s … hah- hard to explain.”

as you switched the sphygmomanometer off, you concluded with toji’s chart for now before thinking for a moment. “well, if it’s internal and is causing you to behave strangely, maybe an MRI will help-”

“NO.”

toji grows sheepish again. “heh- no, no.. MRI.”

“and why not?”

“sound… uh- sound hurts him. him and me.”

dropping your shoulders with impatience, you tap your foot with a grumble. “look, toji, i’m really trying here but i’m not sure how else i can help you. i don’t even know what this ‘parasite’ thing even is.”

“it’s.. better if i show ya.”

right at his words, your brows raised. show you?

at that moment—question marks were popping up all through your brain, and you were the epitome of confusion. toji sighed, sitting up straight before glancing down at you. “don’t get scared, alright? i won’t hurt’cha, promise.”

“um, okay..” you murmur, crossing your arms as your wrist bristles against your doctor identification badge. the anticipation’s nearly killing you, and you remain quiet as you try to study toji’s next move.

“alright-” toji inhales deeply, and right before your very eyes - he’s changing forms.

he’s still wearing sweats, but within seconds, his body’s starting to get covered with black. it looks like some sort of dark villain suit. he’s waaaay bigger now, and his face’s just halfway covered. as you raise your head, you’re met with the face. the slit, blinking eyes. there’s large, curving eyes that longly curl further up near the back of his head and the teeth-

half of toji’s mouth was now replaced with probably dozens of sharp, honed teeth and an obnoxiously long tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth.

what ….

the ….

fuck.

“pretty little girl.”

the voice sounded far different than toji’s. it’s more pitchy and low, it's screaming with smoky bass and it nearly makes you shudder. toji - or whoever that was, did a quick walk around you and you’re silently gulping.

it’s venom now, and the more he’s in your presence, the more he’s getting a louder smell of your signature sweet scent.

so this is the girl toji’s been whining about non-stop. interesting.

“i- um.. take it you’re the parasite?”

you heard an annoyed growl leave from his mouth before he replies, cocking its head.

“watch it, now. it’s venom, sweet thing.”

“venom, poison, toxin- whatever.” you rolled your eyes, your slight fear subsiding. toji told venom how you were sassy but you, you were intriguing. you didn’t seem the least bit scared and he liked that.

as you took in his massive appearance though, he was just so big, towering over toji entirely even with his head tilted down. venom’s very burly, and you could just see him drooling from his lips from your peripherals. in a tiny frail voice, you murmured. “where’s toji? is he-”

“still here, unfortunately. he’s my shitty host-”

right on cue, they swap back and toji’s back in his body. he rubs behind his neck, looking down at your cute appalled expression. “heh- see?”

“toji, what the hell did i just see.”

“i don’t know- but look, he’s a part of me now and he’s hell-bent on makin’ my life a livin’ hell for as long as i’m alive,” toji let off an exhale. “i didn’t . . just come here for a checkup though.”

your eyes meet his and toji’s demeanor turns more serious now - he’s starting to sweat again, and raven bangs that slit down his forehead nearly shield his eyes. “i- i missed you, sugar. seriously.”

“toji-”

“no, listen,” he grumbles, slowly closing the awkward distance between the two of you. the room grew dead quiet, and the only sounds that could be heard were from the outside of the hospital.

endless chatter and machines along with occasional beeps from the staticky hospital’s intercom. intently, you stare deep into his eyes and his hand softly goes on your cheek. toji’s patiently waiting - waiting for the moment for you to push his hand away, but you don’t.

instead, your body’s first response was to lean into his touch and you could see his eyes slowly widening as he continued to caress your cheek. he didn’t expect that.

“god, i- i’m so… horny-”

…..

“nice one. no wonder why you struggle to get laid.”

you blink thrice, staring at toji and oh- he’s starting to sweat even more. his eye seems to be twitching from venom’s insult and you’re wondering what’s going on through his brain - or who.

he’s not sitting on the bed anymore, he’s standing now, and again, toji towers over you completely.

if you squinted just enough, you’d see the dark bags indenting underneath his eyes. “you look .. really pretty today.”

“i’m wearing scrubs, toji.”

“idiot.”

toji grumbles, trying to disregard venom’s snarky side comments. “i know- i know, i just-” he pauses, his eyes trailing up and down your body. “wait- i think i know how you can help with my parasite.”

“how?”

“heh- do you uh- mind if we go back to your place? ‘m kinda starved-”

♡ ♡ ♡

“o- oh my.. god!” you’d squeal, yet another pretty primal ripping its way out of your throat. one minute, you’re having a heart-to-heart with your ex-fiancé and the next, his tongue’s swirlin’ left and right in between the cracks and crevices of your open thighs. you’d be lying through your teeth if you didn’t miss his tongue.

but fuck it.

you’re whimpering, swollen-glossed lips trembling as you’re hunched over your damn sofa. you’re bent over the arm of the couch as toji’s positioned behind you, using one hand to roughly grip the right cheek of your ass.

like always - he’s just nasty, sliding his tongue in and out of your syrupy cunt, savoring the candy-sweet taste. toji’s all in there—puckering his plump glossy lips as your hips refused to stay still on his tongue.

“hngh- sweeter than ever for me, pretty hah- mama,” toji groans, feeling you writhe again at the shuddering response your body gives him.

leisurely, his scarred lips tickle their way against the outer part of your pussy and you’re already fighting back fat tears. tears of straight pleasure, and he could hear those sweet ‘lil sobs getting caught in the back of your throat every time.

“fuck- dreamt ‘bout tastin’ you again for so long,” and as you’re continuing to fill the room with your repeated, wailing whimpers, toji brings a sticky, wet kiss to your labia that’s just constantly twitching. “mhm, i missed you too, wet girl.”

“ngh- toji,” a soft, gasping moan snatches away from your lungs as your thighs gradually grow shaky. you’re unstable—struggling desperately to cling onto the armrest of the sofa. toji’s tongue was just brutal - its pace was simply relentless, barely giving you any time to get out a single breath.

“fuck- fuuuuck,” and your chest dips inward, hearing that familiar slosh sound sob from between your legs. your tummy nearly does flips, cartwheels, and somersaults, feeling that thick, big stretch of one of toji’s fingers trying to insert its way inside you.

immediately, you’re clamping around him, presenting his stocky fat middle finger with your dripping, slick warmth. you heard a cooing, husky ‘ooooh’ rumble away from toji’s throat as he stared in awe.

“your fingers are sooo- fuck-” you’re cut off by his tongue that’s wetly slurping against your pussy. it’s so loud too, a carnal sound you’d probably never get used to.

toji’s a sloppy man - proud ‘n entirely unashamed, especially when it came to you.

his long, ravened lashes were closed the entire time whilst he was trying to barrel thick fingers inside of your drooling core. you’re just so wet, dampening his fingers within each overwhelming inch that sinks inside your pussy. “baby-” he breathily rasps, hearing the hurried huffs depart from your throat once he starts scissoring his digits inside of you. his fingertips were even bigger, and your toes were just pathetically curling up.

“toji, i want a taste too.”

toji grumbles, nearly forgetting about venom’s presence. already - you had a good portion of his chin dripping with your essence. as toji’s starting to create a decent, sloppy thrusting pace of his fingers, he spits on your clit.

“don’t be greedy. besides my tongue’s longer.”

“fine.” toji rolls his eyes, glancing at the glittery glob of spit that’s straightly cascading down the slit of your cunt.

venom did have a point though -

he could stretch it out to be several feet long. toji’s fingers continued to loudly thrust in and out of your sobbing, wet cunt before he nibbles against your nub. “mmch- sugar, can i try somethin’ with my tongue?”

“o.. okaay-” your voice cutely cracks, and you’re already starting to feel the irregular beats of your heart pick up at a much more frantic speed.

“hah- i’ll have ‘ta take my fingers out for it. might stretch you a bit,” and right as he says that you hear the drenched ‘pop’ sound splash away from between your trembly legs.

you’re damn near hysterical - temporarily pouting once you’re clenching around nothing but air once he pulls his fingers out.

down to his rounded, pointy knuckles — both fat fingers were glossed from top to bottom with streams of your gluey slick.

you heard a ‘whoosh’ from behind you, and your eyes slightly bulged once you felt a bit of drool splatter onto your back. you’re completely bare, and the only thing you currently had on was panties that toji lazily shoved to the side with his teeth earlier.

“bend.”

it’s venom’s voice this time, and the bass gruffly screaming in his tone had you already arching up. you whined, still feeling him shamelessly drooling on your bare backside.

you could hear him snarling quietly, hearing the slopping sound of his tongue rolling straight out of his hanging maw. curled, white eyes stare at your pretty pussy just on display, and venom’s tongue stretched out even farther.

“eyes… lungs… pancreas…” his venomous, deep voice bellows after each word that leaves his dropping, wet lips. the chiseled, sharp teeth that decorated the inside of venom’s mouth were just so shiny.

you felt yourself throbbing at every second he spent widely staring at your body, admiring your nude physique.

large, blinking eyes finally flicker down between your thighs and you moan once he hungrily licks his long tongue across his salivating lips. once he teasingly brings the tip of his tongue to lick between the wet crevice of your leg, you whimpered as he finished his sentence. “—pussy.”

“o- oh.. my goood-” you’d croak, eyes instantly rolling back once the slimy tip of his tongue slaps its way against your hole.

slooowly, it slithers its way down until it reaches your opening. it was so long, the tip already reaching near your navel within half a second. it’s just huuuge, longer than toji’s tongue by a mile. he’s just as ruthless too, dipping his way inside of your inviting cunt without muttering a single word.

you’re holding onto the edge of the couch for dear life, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as his tongue sloppily flops its way in and out of your throbbing pussy. venom’s a tease too, and every few seconds he’d purposely stretch the tip of his tongue even longer just to hear those pretty cries of yours pitch higher.

“uuugh.. s- so long, fuck-” you’d whine, gasping once you felt his flicking tongue occasionally slap against the sprawled arc of your thighs. unapologetically, venom creates a slimy, wet trail and he’s just straight-up licking you everywhere.

he’s not only licking your pussy, he’s gliding his tongue down your legs, around your legs, and of course -

he tends attention to his new favorite spot, your hole.

every time he’d lave the reddened, curly tip of his tongue at that particular spot - you’d let off the prettiest squeal. your eyes nearly popped out of their poor sockets as you’re left a stammering, babbling mess. messily, he swirls his extended tongue around your puckering hole before slithering it back down between the puffed folds of your pussy.

“ ‘m not.. hah- not gonna last, toji-”

venom scoffs, but he could feel toji trying to take over. as you remained awkwardly hunched over the fluffy armrest of your sofa, you just couldn’t get over how long venom’s tongue was.

just thinking about how many feet it was had you fluttering, and not just the kind of fluttering that occurs inside your stomach.

it’s wet, dripping everywhere down your legs as it continues to glissade up, down, ‘n around. you were impatiently spasming on his tongue the entire time as you were still arched over, chasing each incoming breath until your release decided to present itself.

venom’s tongue was widely thick too, and it just couldn’t help but roll its way against the bare left cheek of your ass. you’re practically gasping for air at this point, on the verge of collapsing from the length of his tongue before he delves it in wholly.

“fuck- fuuuuck-” you’d squeak, drool moistly seeping from each corner of your lips.

steamy, hot breath tickles against your thigh as his tongue continued to drag its way through your sloppy cunt. every smacking slosh that you heard from between your yelping legs only grew louder, and you’re just gnawing on the bars of your fuckin’ enclosure.

you’re starting to cutely crawl forward, at least you’re trying to, but you gasp—feeling one of venom’s long black tendrils curl its way around your torso.

“stay, girl.”

you’re moaning, eyes bulging wider once the tip of his tongue occasionally reaches near your pulsating g-spot. he’s so sloppy with it too, purposely diving his tongue at that same spot to make you cross-eyed.

your sweet melodic ‘ooooh’ ‘s only pitched higher, and as his tongue continued to thrust in and out of your throbbing cunt, you felt his tendril delicately caressing down your skin. “ ‘m gonna cummm-” you’d whine out, feeling the pathetic surrendering quake of your legs.

his tongue was just sooo vast ‘n wide - thickly stretching inside of your cunt before flicking the tip of his flat tongue all against your drenched, wet thighs.

within a blink of an eye, you hear a ‘swoof’ sound and toji ends up switching back to his original form. your kaleidoscope-like vision had you seeing bleary white splotches of pleasure. as each lively vein and axon located in your body gets harshly interrupted with a euphoric wave of elation, your high’s finally making its longly awaited appearance.

venom’s tongue which is now toji’s tongue shrinks a bit, and the entire time—you feel it all inside of you. pulse after pulse after pulse . .

the scar that slit down the right side of his lip smeared against your pussy as he takes one big sluuuuurp.

toji groans, grabbing ahold of your rickety thighs before snickering lowly. “c’mon, pretty girl. give it t ‘me. hah- ‘m so thirsty,” he murmurs against your folds, his lips wetly gluing together with the help of your slick cascading down his stubbled chin.

you’re just shaking - your jaw dropped with your toes cutely curled together. toji softly slides another finger inside you and this time, it's his index finger.

your lips spread wide - parting into a cute, surprised ‘o’ once you feel a brief cold band of what feels like a ring. it’s his engagement ring, and after all this time he still wore it.

“f- fuck, tojiiiii-” you’d sob out, furrowed brows contorting as he’s trying to slide in each thick inch of his digit.

you’re drooling, and not just from your mouth.

“never .. hngh- stopped lovin’ you, sweetheart,” toji grumbles, a smoky groan ripping out of his throat once he feels his dick twitching in his sweats.

toji’s hard too, and you could even hear him let off a soft raspy whine once he started to roll his hips against the cushioned couch. “fuuuck- gonna make me cum too, ugh-”

the wet silver band of his engagement ring tickles against the inside of your core, and as he repeatedly pistons his thick digit in and out of your pussy, he kept flicking his tongue at the same time.

you’re shivering, feeling your hips dramatically stutter before the coil buried deep in your fluttering tummy finally snaps.

“fu- fuck!” you’d squall out a pretty near battle cry, purring off little shaky ‘ah’ ‘s once you hear his final, repeating slurps.

toji’s free hand already snuck underneath his sweats, and he was angrily pumping his veiny cock that hid underneath his boxers.

the white stripes of his underwear had ‘lethal protector’ decorated around the upper strip of his boxers in bold white and purple — (venom’s idea of course)

as toji’s kiss-stung lips practically glued against your pulsating clit, he drinks all of your slick juices. the top row of his teeth playfully snags against your nub as his long, dark lashes flutter shut.

but as you’re creaming on his tongue, toji grunts loudly.

his bare shaft that’s hugged around his palm ends up releasing too from the tip, and he grumbles, feeling the inside of his stomach frantically tighten.

toji ends up cumming merely nanoseconds after you, and white splotches end up spraying over his stomach and on the burgundy cushion below you both.

“hah- fuck,” toji growls through honed, gritted teeth. he’s drenched with sweat, and he’s letting off guttural moans against your sweet cunt as his animalistic hips humped against the sofa. “made a fuckin’ mess outta me, pretty girl. just like . . ya always do-”

as you’re still getting over your own teeth-shatter release, you end up sitting up. toji brings his slick-covered ring finger towards his scarred lips, giving it a teasing ‘lil suck before humming in content. “my wife’s always had the sweetest taste.”

“ex-fiancée.” you corrected him, still feeling your thighs quake.

“oh, boo. same thing, sweetheart,” toji pants, and he saw how your eyes immediately dropped further down.

it starts near his chest. toji’s chest was puffed out, and fuck was he buff. his arms were oh-so swole, and your gaze was entirely stuck to his body as he started to take off his sweater.

after that - came his tank top.

it’s dingy, a dirty color of white and you could even see a few curly black strands of chest hair poke near the center part.

as you were openly gawking - you didn’t even realize you were crawling closer and closer toward him..

this probably wasn’t a good idea.

you’d probably regret this tomorrow.

but, again - fuck it.

one more last time with your ex-fiance couldn’t hurt that bad, right . . ?

“heh- come closer,” toji sits manspread, sprawling his beefy vein-covered arms over the edge of your sofa. “i don’t bite but venom might.”

“shut up-” you mumbled, and toji inhaled a sharp breath at the familiar feeling of your touch.

as always - you’re just so gentle, tenderly tender with one of your palms wrapping over his sensitive erect length. it’s like he grew the last time you saw him, and from all the tannish-pink sides, it was overwhelmed with veins.

prodding, lightning-shaped veins.

toji’s rounded tip was a pretty color of pink with splotches of glittery white where a few remnants of cum remained.

grunting—toji’s eyes briefly flap shut and you could see the core muscles in his stomach tightly flexing. a single vein throbs down the left side of his shaft as he feels your tongue flick against his frenulum.

speaking of - his poor, rosy-colored cockhead’s just tearing with glossy globules of pre-cum. you swirl your tongue around, hearing each low growling ‘o- oh fuck,’ leave from toji’s scarred lips.

if it was anything he missed more than you, it was your mouth. you always knew how to wrap your lips around his cock. ardently, toji bites his lip before he sees you reaching between your legs.

humming, he raises a brow as your hot throat starts to finally lower itself against his weighty cock. “mngh- poor baby. need a hand?”

“ ‘m fine,” you grumbled through full lips, almost remembering just how big toji’s dick really was.

seconds later and your lips were feeling tender just from the subtle gaping stretching it created. you’re letting off a symphony of muffled moans left and right as you’re trying to get his mushroomy tip to hit the roof of your mouth. as toji ogles at your bobbling head, he playfully pinches your nose.

“fuck- thaaat’s it, breathe.” he released the grip from your nostrils, hearing a faint noise of a gag.

he was just so thick, and your fingers weren’t helping your impatient fervor at all. you weren’t just throbbing anymore from between your legs you were twitching too.

a lustrous strand of saliva dribbles from the corner of your lips as you moan again - pretty, bleary eyes glancing back up at toji before you huff. with a sloppy, wet ‘pop!’ noise, your drooling lips left his veiny cock.

“hm?” toji lets out a smoky exhale, a wide palm still softly placed on top of your head. he sees the needy little pout gradually spreading against your face before he smears his fat tip against your lips. “impatient, wifey?”

“toji-” you grumbled, not even caring anymore. your body knew all too well what it wanted. “just fuck me.”

you wanted him - maybe even needed him.

toji knew what you wanted too, and god- you just wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face.

it’s like he could read you like a book. after saying just his name though—you let off another gasp once he suddenly lifts you.

“hah- well then. upsie’ fuckin daisey, girl. i gotcha.”

strenuous, hefty arms carry you as he’s stomping down your hallway. emerald-green eyes occasionally leer at the few hung paintings and wall decorations that are displayed on your wall.

of course, toji knew where your bedroom was because that’s exactly where he was taking you.

never before had your jaw dropped wider.

once toji’s aligning his blushing, plump tip against your already sobbing pussy you knew it was game over. toji had you in one of his favorite positions - prone bone.

almost like before, your face was down with your pretty, wriggling ass raised. a long, rectangular mirror was propped up in front of you and toji was just silently drinking in every lewd expression that contorted against your face.

his sweats - his boxers, everything seemed to disappear and all he wore was that same black suit with a carved ‘spider’ looking symbol on his chest.

“mhm- look at how wet she is for me, fuck-” toji grumbles, carnally admiring how your clit was just fluttering with a jumble of aroused pulses.

“you mean us.”

“us, right.” toji rolls his eyes at venom’s remark, forgetting how you couldn’t hear him at all.

you were just drenched, and as he ran a swollen thumb down your slivering slit, he hummed.

if he squinted just enough, your pussy would’ve easily resembled a flower - so so pretty.

toji groans, and you hear a bit of a faint whoosh sound.

right before your eyes as you’re arched over, you watched how he was now wearing all black. like from before — it was the suit, the suit whenever he transformed into venom but toji was still there.

ruffled, black strands nearly blocked both of his eyes before he damply smacks his mushroomy tip against your weeping cunt.

“ngh- toji, don’t tease me-”

“patience, sweetheart-” he grumbles through gritted teeth, and your lips part into an even wider ‘o’ once he’s sliding the head of his cock back and forth against your puffed folds.

your thighs were eagerly trembling - direly waiting for him to just go inside.

toji’s cock was so ridiculously fat - each slap against your pussy with just his tip alone had you dizzy. the minuscule, sizzling buds in your mouth made the entirety of your tongue water as you were just babbling those same whimpers.

“dunno who’s louder.” he licks his lips, still tasting remnants of your cloyingly sweet juices on his tongue. as he’s still toying with you, you moaned once you heard that familiar welcoming squeeelch.

toji’s starting to ease his way inside - already creating a huge, gaping stretch with just his tip alone.

the sweet ‘o- oh shit’ that pours from your syrupy lips was mere music to his ears. tenderly, a hand wraps around your throat from behind, making you look at yourself through the mirror.

his shadow alone, you saw it - venom’s eerily presence, his silhouette shadowing behind toji, and he was even bigger. you gulped, feeling your tummy take a few resists and turns as he’s still trying to make his way inside.

“make her arch more.”

toji brings a hand toward your back, gently pressing down to make you sit upright. he’s just so big, and your brows were already compressing and curling all from his thick size.

he was barely even a few inches in and yet it felt like he was stuffing you to the brim. unsteady, wobbly arms remained pierced into the cushioned mattress as you could just feel toji’s cunning grin from behind you.

“fuck- so fuckin’ big, tojiii-”

“nice ‘n big just for you, wifey,” he purrs, and you’re whimpering once he rubs the frigid band of his wedding ring against your pussy again. the sloshes started to grow more wet after each barreling stretch, and you’re just gasping for air at this point. “c’mon big girl, let's make it fit like old times. gimme that pretty biiiig stretch- fuck.”

toji’s halfway in when he groans, feeling your heart-shaped insides instinctively clench around him. it’s almost cute, and he’s leaning against your ass to where his weight’s just hovering on top of you. the same hand that was holding onto your throat softens its grip, and he gives you a teasing kiss on the side of your mouth.

as your neck raised a little, you tried to wiggle your hips. fuck, you tried something, anything so he could just move.

toji lowly chortles at your cute agitation before gifting the right cheek of your ass with a rude spank.

“ohhh, what’s all this? want me to move, yeah?”

“pleaseplease-”

your words were a soft-spoken mumble, and toji’s just about all the way in now. after he’s bottomed out, his cock stiffens inside of you as you tried to writhe against his hips.

your dripping cunt was still as loud as ever, squelching with numerous pretty sloshing sounds. kissing near the back of your neck, toji whispers hoarsely, “heh- shame, y’er pussy’s speakin’ up for you, pretty mama. but i need ‘ta hear you,” and you moaned, eyes nearly rolling back at the sheer warmth of toji’s chiseled frame laid flat against your flesh. “please what?”

“f- fuuuck me, toji. please- just fuck me.”

within every swallowing inch—you felt toji’s thick, heavy cock trying to squeeze itself in. you’re whimpering, staring ahead with bleary, lust-like eyes as he’s taking you from behind.

he’s so obnoxiously big, but from the inside, he was even bigger.

his sharpened pelvis presents one thrust to you - just a single, vigorous thrust and you feel like you are gonna break.

fall over like you were just some fragile, porcelain doll on the verge of shattering into smithereens. all because of his damn hips. “ugh-” toji grumbles, a small hiss leaving his lips at the sticky contact your sharply slapping ass makes against his lower half.

“i wanna taste her more.”

“knock y’erself out, pal.” toji huffs at another one of venom’s whines, sucking his teeth at how your insides just clamped around him.

your half-open eyes were just wandering everywhere with white flickering through your sockets as your mouth remained agape. the crown of his cock reaches a deep, deep, deep area, and the thing that made you whine was feeling venom’s long tongue.

again.

it’s slick ‘n sticky, slithering out of his dropped jaw as the wet tip licks down the path of your arched spine. he feels you shiver, and toji groans as he’s still ruthlessly pounding you into the creeping mattress. your mind still couldn’t wrap around how abnormally loooong venom’s tongue was, it was so long that he could curl it around your waist if he wanted.

“good .. girl.”

you couldn’t hear him—but you felt his presence, his eerie presence behind you as toji’s heavy weight leans riiiight up against your ass.

your slick was dripping down his cock as he was sloppily sliding his way in and out, each papping sound of thighs causing your ears to ring like bells. fuzzed cotton stuffs your ears as you’re even starting to drool yourself, clawing at the sheets as toji’s fucking you senseless.

“hah- such a pretty girl, that’s it- fuck-” he groans, biting his tongue once he’s met with the sticky sensation of your cunt noisily slapping back against his sharpened pelvis.

hit after hit after hit - and you could just about taste every beat of your heart. his hips were mean, just slamming into you after each filth of a millisecond.

delicately - toji’s thumb caresses the middle part of your throat before he makes you meet his dirty gaze in the mirror. “look,” he huskily purrs, slowing his thrusts down purposely to match your delayed, drawn-out pants.

you shuddered underneath him—moaning once you felt the tip of venom’s tongue snake its way around your trembling thighs. though bleary, droopy eyes and a tongue fully lolled out of your spit-glittery lips, you glanced at yourself in the mirror.

the image of yourself being rammed from behind by toji in his jet-black ‘venom’ whatever you'd call it suit would now constantly be etched in your brain.

as toji’s behind you, his other hand brings your waist up for a better angle. you whined, feeling a bit of his chest hair softly tickle against your spine as he grinds against your ass. he’s thick inside, molding your clammy insides after every primal, eye-rolling thrust.

“there she is, heyy sweetheart,” and his voice drops. it’s a low, guttural low with the right amount of breath that makes you shamefully throb. leaning in, toji playfully licks the side of your cheek before whispering airily. “what happened to all that attitude earlier, hm?”

“ngh, fuck you-” you moaned, gasping once you felt venom’s tendril crawl its way between your legs. it’s so slimy, creating glossy trails of wetness against your already wet thighs before it wraps around one of your legs.

“no, fuck you.” toji grumbles, creating an invisible trail of kisses down your neck.

“make me c- cum then.” you tried to talk back but you’re instantly silenced by the feeling of toji’s heavy, fat cock dipping near your g-spot.

the ridges of his cock that’s got more of a lean curve were enough to have you collapse right there. he’s hitting you good from the inside, massaging through your clingy walls as the two of you both grunt in carnal unison. “oh! fuuuck- fuck, right there, hngh-”

toji brings a hand over your mouth—a palm that muffles your reoccurring whines ‘n whimpers before he hits that same spot again..

he treats your cute ‘lil g-spot like a target, his accuracy is precise every single time. your legs quavered as he felt you twitching - so so close that your orgasm was just like the edge of your strawberry-colored tongue.

“yeah, right - fuuuckin’, there?” and even toji’s voice was starting to tremble.

he’s just about there too - the more he’s whacking his achingly, swollen tip against your tender spot the more he’s feeling his base start to grow more and more full.

you’re whimpering, the syrupy taste of your saliva pouring past the cracks of your lips whilst gluing against his palm. venom’s ravened tendrils remained curled around your thighs too, a tight enough grip to where the hold wouldn't loosen so easily.

“there, toji- pleaaaase,” you’re damn near begging now, sweet pretty pleads of mercy sliding from your lips as the bed groans in the background. he’s deep, massaging your walls as your pussy relaxed squelch after sobbing squelch.

toji’s tip was a blushing, hot red - and each time he pistons his hips, he delves his way even further against your pretty g-spot.

stringently, it prods prods prods until it just can’t anymore and you’re left with your jaw goofily hung open, agape and all as you’re staring at the cross-eyed expression that’s mirrored right in front of you.

your reflection was practically mocking you it seemed, and once you came on his cock again, you let out the most harmonic squeal.

“mhn- there we go, sugar. sloooow, hah- nice ‘n slow, fuck-” his voice pitches hoarsely as he’s gripping both of your swerving hips. as your back’s still laid flat against the plump sheets of your mattress—toji flops right against you.

he’s just close - so so close that you felt the smooth, latex-like material of his suit grind against your skin.

his abs - so naturally sharped and carved, every single row of his chiseled pecs rubbed against your sweat-glossed back and you’re just whimpering out those same pretty babbles for more more more..

with a black quirked brow, toji grunts in your ear whilst venom’s tendrils mindlessly wrap around your waist.

tenderly, his scarred, callused lift your hips just a bit more to get a deeper angle - and fuck, that’s when toji’s just about at his inevitable peak too.

“hngh- cum . . cum insiiide-” you whined, sheeny pouty lips of yours curving into a disappointed frown once you hear and feel the wet, sloppy pop. heavy, ragged breaths collided down your spine as you felt toji’s rough chest lay flat against your back.

his shaft slipped out of you, and you couldn’t help the small ‘lil moan that pried its way from your raw chords. you’re clenching around nothing now, and you even tried to sneak a hand down between your legs.

with a soft whack - you pull your hand back, feeling the brief millisecond feeling of venom’s tendril giving your impatient hand a tiny spank.

“silly little woman.”

“our wife’s always been impatient,” toji snickers lowly, wrapping his palm around his veiny, thick cock. he takes two deep breaths before plap after plap, and he’s just smacking his mushroomy tip against your slobbering cunt.

again.

“toji, tojiiiii-” you’d moan at the occasional tender stings from each playful hit. his tip’s so perfectly round ‘n plump, just gifting your pretty pussy with various hits. “breed me, fuuuck- don’t miss, pleaseplease-”

in his head, he’s counting each sloppy slap of his creamy tip tapping against your folds. he could just hear the sheer neediness in your voice, and that’s when toji starts to align himself again.

you’re throbbing ridiculously - muttering out faint, inaudible whimpers of ‘please’ and ‘fuck’ ‘s as he’s sliding his ruby-red crownhead up and down the drooling slope of your pussy.

“mhm, needy ‘lil thing. can’t go a second without throbbing,” toji groans, watching as your right thigh starts to twitch. as his ripped abdomen presses further into yours, he brings a wet kiss toward your left shoulder blade. “ ‘s that what you really want, sweetheart? for me to finish ins- oh, fuck.”

with a sharp, three-second hiss - toji feels his hips shudder. it’s a warning, a warning that he was about to erupt and fuck, you felt every prominent vein on his ramming cock pulse through your core.

vehemently, his rhythm turns from sprightly to sloppy within seconds and he’s raising your leg slightly. “ ‘m cumming, sugar. better.. hah- pussy better swallow it all like a good girl, ugh-”

with your squished chin resting on top of your arm, you stared at the lewd reflected image of yourself and toji through the mirror that hung across the two of you.

like a madman - he’s drilling into your very being with venom’s dark silhouette hovering over you both.

he’s reaching such deep, tender areas and you’re whimpering after each slapping thrust.

“toji- uuuh- toji, mgh-” you’d whimper, his hits against your ass with his pelvis being so vicious that you could almost taste it.

it’s so powerful - each direct hit that he flawlessly slams into with his cock has your cute, dilated pupils spiraling into permanent cartoony circles. with the help of venom, toji ends up stretching his dick just a few more inches inside of you, and your mouth drops.

his tip swirls its way around your gripping pussy before it’s finally coming to its risqué end.

you’re laid flat on your mattress as nothing but a tiny, inaudible gasp-like ‘fuck’ drags its way from your lips. toji’s cock that stretch stretch stretched just a little bit more ended up gifting the lower part of your tummy with a protruding bump.

he finishes in the rawest, lecherous manner, flooding every corner ‘n crevice of your gripping walls with syrupy, white cum. your thighs that glued together perfectly were greeted with a few welcoming dewdrops of toji’s slick mess. rough, callused fingertips ran ahold of your waist and you could feel him writhing behind you.

hooded, olive eyes zero down your body, and the natural sheet of sweat that decorated a path down your arched back.

god.

“heh- that’s my gi-”

“we aren’t finished,” you uttered, grabbing toji’s bulky shoulders and lightly shoving him on his back. with a surprised yet amused ‘uuf’ he lands as his half-opened eyes stare at the dripping, creamy mess streaming from between your legs. “lie back.”

venom, being toji’s conscious once more, snickers at your audacity as he watches the scene of you straddling his host.

“tojo buddy, if you won’t re-marry her, i will.”

“dude, i told you, it’s toji, and shut the hell u- fuuuck.”

♡ ♡ ♡

position after position after position and you gave toji an absolute run for his money. he didn’t expect at all for you to have as much stamina competing with him and venom combined. you even lost count of how many mind-boggling, eye-rolling, tear-jerking orgasms you’ve got snatched out of you. it’s probably been hours, and you and toji were merely both at your inevitable limits.

he’s stuffed you full with sooo many seconds and thirds and fourths and even fifths of sweltering cum that you felt like you were about to burst.

toji’s entirely milked out - or at least, he thinks he is, and now, you’re straddling him.

you’re straddling him, but from behind.

with lazy, droopy eyes, toji slides the tip of his tongue across the seam of his scarred lips as he watches you move. “mhm, gonna go reverse on me, yeah pretty girl?” he huffs, already feeling the slickly torrid mess stick against his thighs.

you’re reaaaal slow - a torturous type of slow that nearly does toji’s head in. he’s peering at your ass moving, but you’re not bouncing.

you’re not bouncing because he and you both knew that not only were you close again but he was too.

toji’s entire body felt hot, preparing lava. the humid, scorching temperature sizzles and arises after each bestial-like slam of your hips and he grunts. “god, y’er a… hah- little brat, arentcha.”

“aw, do you need a break, toji?”

“yes he does-” venom tried to chime in.

“no- no, i don’t,” toji breathes gruffly, beads and beads of sweat tearing down each side of his face. his hair’s all ruffled and unkempt, black strands nearly blocking his vision as his thick neck tosses itself back. “atta girl, ride it then. ride it like it’s fuckin’ yours, baby.”

slap one - and you moaned, hearing and feeling toji’s harsh palm swat against your right left ass cheek.

slap two - and you gasped, his hand smacking against the right.

and the third and final slap - it’s from venom, and one of his tendrils that sloppily slides from between your thighs noisily slaps against your already full, cum-dripping pussy.

toji’s jaw significantly tightens as he just watches in awe, silently gawking at the familiar sight he’s always loved seeing — his pretty ‘lil wife straddling him, he’s missed it, he’s missed you.

“fuck-” you held in a whine by giving the flat of your tongue a soft nibbles.

his cock from all girthy sides was just so fat, and the curve that stretches through your core every time you spring back down against his lap drives you both up the first street of insanity.

this reversing angle—it’s so intimate, and it’s always been one of toji’s weaknesses.

as you’re winding your hips ‘round in a hypnotic, perfect figure eight, venom’s just nagging all in toji’s ear.

the symbiote’s bored, and by the second he’s only getting more and more aroused. with a low grumble, toji told him to just wait then he’d get his turn. hopefully.

you almost did forget about the whole ‘parasite’ thing, but who were you to complain, let alone ask questions?

your legs sprawled nice and wide, and you’re nearly squatting as your cunt continued to swallow every inch of his cock. it’s so wide too, deeply prodding inside ‘till it reaches that pretty cervix of yours.

the curly, black hairs that stuck beneath toji’s slick-covered shaft tickled you, and you’re just panting continuously like a greyhound.

“sugar, fuck- bring those hips back to me like that, mhm. right there, right fuckin’ there . . please-”

please.

oh, he’s begging.

as you maintained a secure grip on his shaky knees with your hands, you heard the wanton tremor in toji’s voice.

by now, he’s reclined allll the way back against your plush pillows with his legs feeling like complete mush. fuck, you’ve probably rode him to death, because he could barely hold onto your hips anymore.

“toji… hah- cum with me, baby-” you mumbled, feeling his clammy fingertips slither down the sides of your waist.

like a wooden chair—you’re just rocking and rocking, not even minding the constant grunts and bellowing groans of your outdated boxspring that sits beneath your mattress.

it’s just so slick - your pussy, it’s sliding up ‘n down toji’s cock and he heard every clamoring, wet splat. he’s just almost mesmerized at how well you knew how to take him every time. his mouth’s as dry as it’s ever been, and you’re starting to feel that oh-so-familiar fluttering pool of butterflies stir in the lower pits of your tummy.

“heh, you called me baby-”

“shut up.”

“make m- ngh-”

blinking thrice, toji grunts once he feels your hand wrap around his neck. you’re still facing forward—riding him in reverse with your arm extended from behind you.

his neck was just so thick that you could barely bring all five fingers to squeeze his neck. “cute-” toji slyly titters, but his brattiness fatally comes to an end once he’s starting to feel his dick twitch.

his body - it’s rumbling, and your cunt’s pulsing increases after each slapping thrust. the stimulation always knew how to make your head spin, and for a second, it just felt like time indefinitely paused.

torrid, cloud breaths draw away straight from toji’s puffed-out chest and he groans. he’s riiight there, he’s right there and he could feel his creamy tip that’s messily poking around your insides trying to cling around your warmth.

as you’re just vigorously slapping your ass against his lap now, he’s left speechless.

“o- oh, oh sugar- your fuckin’ hips, yeahyeaaah-” and he’s whimpering now, long black lashes sticking together with what appears to be tears.

toji’s holding onto your rotating waist tightly, breathing through his nose as he hears each popping slosh of your cunt preparing to wring him dry for the nth time.

“toji, something’s about to-” you’d blurt, pausing mid-sentence, keeping both hands on his knees. toji’s tearing up at the sloppy, vicious strings of cum that threatens to depart from both pairs of slapping thighs that slap louder after each violent pound.

his dick’s all red ‘n swollen, from top to bottom as it’s covered with veins that paint the shriveling sides. your legs were about to give out at any second and so was his.

toji’s tip which was oh-so round ends up massaging your tightening walls perfectly, smothering your sensitive g-spot with a plethora of sweet french kisses.

“ah-” you squeal, your eyes widening as you’re coming to your end again. your throat - it feels so hot, so parched and you’re just gradually being led to your release. the adequate force of your brutal, tossing hips makes toji’s leafy irises reel further back.

glittery, wet lashes stick together piercing both pads of thumbprints into your ridden flesh — and oh, he’s cumming for what’s probably the umpteenth time now.

you both succumb to pleasure and you’re each hit with rippling waves and waves of swelling pleasure. finally, your legs end up collapsing and your jaw’s left goofily hanging.

you end up gushing, clenching internally as your labored breaths get tangled in your full lungs. it’s so wet, and as toji’s cock remained buried idly past the taut ring of your entrance, he’s pouring yet another milky wad of cum inside of you. it’s thick and smooth like honey, stickily melting inside of you like butter.

“mhm, f.. fuck-” you kissed your teeth, hearing toji’s heavy, defeated breaths exhale from behind you.

the air in the room felt so intoxicating - cloudy. as you sat still on his lap with his leaking cock still lodged inside of you, that same aroma of pure filth and intimacy smacks your nostrils right in the face.

its citrusy with a hint of sweetness, and your thighs couldn’t help but shudder above his.

“good girl, heh- think ya cured me just f- fine.” toji hoarsely murmurs, taking every few seconds to breathe.

two rough hands gingerly raise your hips, widely peering at the frothy, white ring that coats around his tan base. pearly, clear slick of your own mess stuck against your thighs as you let off muffled moans.

everything felt so tender - and in every millisecond that passed, you felt all ropes of toji’s cum plug you to the very fullest. “c’mere, girl-” he groggily murmured, and you gasped, feeling one of venom’s tendrils wrap around your waist.

with a swift movement — you’re pulled closer, breaking the distance between the two of you. toji smashes his scarred lips against yours, slipping off occasional husky whimpers in your mouth as he felt your fingers wrap around his flaccid cock. his whines pitch higher, and your thumb runs down a prodding vein that twitches from your touch.

it’s an intense, breath-snatching kiss that leaves you both gasping for air after each smack of departure from lips. as you moaned in his mouth, you could still taste remnants of your treacly arousal on his tongue.

“i love-” he whispers between kisses, and you slide out a whine once you feel venom’s tendrils swirl around your waist.

heartbeats pulsed rapidly, matching tempos of each other as your tongue disappeared inside toji’s mouth.he grunts, bringing his crimson kiss-bitten lips toward the crack of your jaw as your mouth remains agape.

“-you. s ‘much, f- fuck, you sure know how to milk me, sugar. reminds me of our . . hah- honeymoon.”

“just . . stop talking,” you roll your eyes—still feeling the after-effects of your body’s sensitive convulsions. you still felt so stuffed, still feeling the gooey remnants of cum trickle out of your dewy pussy. as toji’s eyes remained hooded and drooped, he flashes you that same smug grin. “i still- love you too-”

“there’s my girl,” toji huskily whispers against your lips, circling a thumb over the line that curves above the top of your mouth. you moaned, watching as he brought your hand up to his before kissing it -

repeatedly, before he brought your empty ring finger up toward his lips and kissed it. “mwah,” and you felt your pulse pick up before feeling toji’s broad arms pick you up. “up and at ‘em, wifey.”

but once you’re positioned to lay flat on your back, that’s when venom switches with toji again. you’re met with the same overly tall, massive ‘parasite’ with a dozen rows of whetted, white teeth.

venom slowly opens his jaw — showcasing his long, dripping pink tongue that dampens even more once he sees your filled pussy twitching solely at the sound of his venomous, deep voice.

all over his body, he’s covered with veins, and as your eyes trail ‘n trail way down, you land at his abs and stop just below his waistline.

your eyes widened as you felt hands softly grab your hips, and he brought one of his tendrils to make you face the other way.

a sultry-sounding moan escapes out of your raw throat as your face plants against your pillow.

“mmgh-” and you let off a surprised breathy gasp, feeling not one but a pair of two rockhard things slapping against the entrance of your bare cunt.

“toji- ngh, venom- i… is that-”

“now bend for me, sweet thing. my turn.”

Don’t Take It Personal

Summary: you’re a little worried about how much time Vi is spending with her new friend

Warnings: vi’s kind of a dumbass, ngl. Angst probably. R plays a sport for the plot (just vibe guys) loser!vi au

WC: 1.6k

Vi made a new friend.

That was a rare feat for her, seeing how out of the few people she considers a friend included you, her girlfriend, and Jinx, her sister.

She came home beaming after her usual workout at the gym. There was a new face she didn’t recognize and to Vi’s surprise, the friendly chat turned into a new friendship.

Her name was Caitlyn Kiramman. You knew her name, seeing the title “Kiramman” around a few buildings. Caitlyn was studying abroad for a few months, hence why Vi didn’t meet her until now. And yet, the new friendship was blossoming quickly. You didn’t mind, just happy that she managed to make more friends without you being present.

That was until Vi started hanging out with her more than you.

Srry, babe cant make it. At the gym wth Cait 💪🏻

11:23am

You frowned a bit at the recent text Vi sent you. You were at the library waiting for her for your weekly study date but when she was almost half an hour late you finally texted her. Only for your girlfriend to take a raincheck. Again.

Seeing how Vi wasn’t showing up, you still decided to stay for at least another hour; work still needed to be done with or without her. When you did decide to leave, you had to pass by the gym in order to go home. You figured Vi was still inside so you didn’t bother to linger until you heard a familiar voice.

”I’ll see you around, cupcake!”

Cupcake?

You turned to see Vi and Caitlyn leaving the large building. Vi immediately saw you and rushed over to you. Caitlyn gave you a polite wave before going her own way.

She was calling her ‘cupcake.’ You felt a little irritated at the—at your— nickname Vi called Caitlyn. Granted, ‘cupcake’ wasn’t one that was used very often, only when Vi was teasing or being purposely irritating to you. But still. It was your name.

Pushing the negative feelings aside you greeted Vi with a kiss. She smiled into it then pulled you into a tight hug, her arms almost crushing you.

”You stick, Vi,” you muttered into her neck.

A soft laugh escaped her. “You enjoy it. What are you doing here?”

”Going home. Then I saw you and…cupcake.”

”Don’t be like that,” Vi groaned, trying to play it off. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Never said you did.” You tried to change the subject, not wanting to make it a big deal. “Are you going to my game Friday or are you going to be too busy with Caitlyn. It’s the last one of the season, Vi.”

“Hey, have I ever missed a game before?” She asked rhetorically. ”But if it makes you feel better, I promise that I’ll be there.”

”Good.”

Vi then wrapped her arm around you, putting you in an almost headlock, and started walking in the direction of the same apartment. “Let’s go. I’m exhausted.”

While what Vi said did ease some of you worrying, it didn’t stay for long. For the rest of the week, Vi was still with Caitlyn. Even though you attended most of the same classes, and stayed in the same home, you only saw her in passing or for only an hour at night. And every word that came out of her mouth was about the other girl.

“I really think you’ll like Cait, she reminds me of you.”

“Caitlyn squatted 210 today! She’s catching up to me.”

”I’m sorry, baby. Cait and I made plans to see that movie. You can still come!” You hate to admit it but that comment made you pissed off more than anything.

Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn. You haven’t even properly met the girl yet it seemed like you knew everything about her.

When Friday finally came, you just hoped Vi would pay more attention to you rather than her friend. Unfortunately, you were proven wrong.

Hey, pretty, the game is starting soon. Are you still coming?

6:37pm

Yoooo Viiii??

7:01pm

Violet, dude, where are you??

7:15pm

Your leg tapped nervously against the ground, scanning the crowd for the familiar pink haired girl, but you came up dry. In the crowd you could see Jayce, Viktor and Mel who all gave you encouraging smiles. Even Jinx showed up, sitting next to Ekko. She gave you a small shrug at your questioning glance before turning back to your phone, possibly texting her sister.

The coach got your attention, urging you to join your teammates on the court. And with a heavy, disappointed sigh, you got up from the bench. You couldn’t focus on Vi anymore, but you still hoped that she would show up sometime during the game. She did promise after all.

But throughout the game, that familiar full head of pink hair was nowhere to be seen. There was an empty spot next to Jinx that was never filled. Trying to ignore the wide open space was almost impossible, but the game was won without Vi cheering for you. Sure, the ball did slip from your hands more times than you’d like to admit, but your team won.

Your friends that did decide to show up wanted to take you out for the rest of the night, a congratulatory dinner, but you weren’t feeling it. And while Jinx doesn’t like saying the word no, she surprisingly let you go home after you refused. You really just wanted to see if or when Vi would be home.

It was nearing nine at night and Vi still hadn’t called you and your recent text went unanswered. The TV was playing a show, mostly used as background noise as your thoughts took over you.

Almost thirty minutes later, you could hear some noise coming from the hallway.

The door to the apartment opened and you could hear Vi humming a song to herself when she locked up for the night. From your spot on the couch, you saw nothing wrong with her so you were glad to know she was safe. But now she had to dig herself out of the hole she dug.

Vi actually seemed surprised to see you but the smile she gave you was instant. “Oh, hey, babe. Why are you still up?”

”Waiting for you,” you shot back, moving to get closer to her. “It’s been hours Vi, we all have been calling and texting you—“

Vi showed you her phone, a black screen staring back at you. “It died a while ago. What’s with the third degree?”

”Do you remember what day it is?”

”Um…the tenth?”

”Um, maybe it’s the day of my game that you’d promise to come to,” you mocked. Yeah, you were being petty but you thought she deserved it.

Vi muttered a small curse to herself and she looked genuinely apologetic. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I swear, I was going to come but then my phone died, and-and I was with Caitlyn and—“

A heavy sigh escaped you at the name. “Caitlyn, right yeah. That makes sense.”

A look came on Vi’s face, one you knew too well when she was about to become argumentative. “What are you talking about?”

”You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, Vi,” you pointed out. “I’ve noticed it— we all have. You’re always with her.”

”We’re friends!”

”You’re friends with Jayce but when’s the last time you’ve hung out with him since meeting Caitlyn? Is she too rich for chargers so you couldn’t check your phone for five minutes?”

Vi scoffed at you. “What, you want me to stop hanging out with Caitlyn just because you’re jealous?”

”I have nothing to be jealous of, Violet!” You yelled. “Cait’s a friend, I get that. But you have been blowing me off time and time again for her. And the one time I actually needed you, you were with her instead. How the hell do you expect me to feel?”

A short pause came from Violet. And what she said next, set your skin aflame.

”I just think you’re overreacting. It’s a fucking game, I’ll just watch the next one.”

“Okay, you know what,” you paused, running your hands over your face; it didn’t do much to calm your heated nerves. “I’m not doing this with you, right now, Vi.”

Vi’s tense posture immediately changed at the tone of your voice; it was shaky, as if you were holding back tears. You almost never cried, at least in front of her, so the new sight was worrisome. She heard you breath in harshly before continuing.

“I’m way too upset at you right now to even finish this conversation,” you said quietly to her. “I’m tired…and honestly just want some space from you.”

Vi swore her heart stopped at those words. Space? “You…Y/N, you can’t be serious.” Space was the main thing Vi hated. It meant you leaving her.

”I am, actually.” Your back was turned from her at that point so you couldn’t see her face fall in disbelief at the sight of you getting ready to leave the apartment.

She knew you made up your mind and were done hearing her but Vi still had to try. “Babe, don’t go. You’re right, is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry, alright?”

”Glad you came to your senses,” you muttered, albeit bitterly.

Vi was desperate at this point. “You don’t have to leave! I can sleep out here!”

”When I said ‘space’, Vi, I meant completely,” you said. Your voice was starting to get tense, a tell that you were getting annoyed. “My parents live a few minutes away, remember? I'll be fine.”

”Y/N please, just—“

“Vi! I’ll…talk to you eventually,” was the last thing you said before the door closed behind you.