ℬ𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎

YOUR HUSBAND WAS COMPLETELY BREATHTAKING. The way his long black hair fell down his back in the morning when the sun was playing peek-a-boo through the curtains of your condo. Some days you found yourself tugging on those strands of hair when he took comfort between your thighs and was eager to taste you on his tongue like a piece of sweet candy. It was breathtaking how the tattoos that imprinted his skin caused your heart to skip. Especially the one behind his ear that was your initials. The cute nickname of pumpkin he would call you when he peppered your face with soft subtle kisses, the scent of him causing you to be intoxicated while giggles bounce from the back of your throat.

How gentle he was with your puppy Doberman Abel because he thought a puppy was perfect practice for a child. The way he would strum his guitar in the living room while humming a lyric from a song he had written. While also claiming he needs a quick kiss on his lips to help his creative juices flow. Your husband was like a prince charming written by a lovesick author. You couldn't ask for another husband. 

But lately, he's been acting strange.

He was coming home later than usual. He's been forgetting about date nights. His touch just became cold. You expected he was cheating, like any other partner who could feel their soulmate tugging away from them. On nights when you thought it would be perfect for doing random pops-up at the studio, he would be there when you waltz into his studio—alone, strumming his guitar and jolting down music lyrics. When he sees you, that twinkle in his eyes you knew so well lit up.

Maybe, you were overthinking.

You confided in his best friend. You were questioning if he's been noticing anything strange about Geto. No one knew him better than his best friend, Gojo Satoru.

"We went out drinking the other night, and he was his usual self. He was so excited about finishing up his album. You know how he gets when the label pushes him to wrap up a song or something." Satoru would exclaim.

That was true. Suguru’s manager has been a bit pushy about the deadline for his sophomore album.

You were overthinking. Your heart settled back to normal as the thoughts of your husband's strange behavior went away. Geto's touch no longer felt like a touch that felt like it was from a stranger. His kisses went back to feeling like you were on cloud nine.

Or so you thought?

Suguru was an excellent kisser. His kisses started soft and subtle. Like a quick peck just to see what lip gloss flavor you were wearing for the day. Then they got eager, like he had to get one quick kiss before getting tugged away for something. He'll pull you close. He'll let his large hands grasp your body like you were the most delicate doll ever. Finally, he'll strike. He'll let his lips drag across your jawline while his fingertips trace your waistline. He wanted you to beg for you to slip his hand into the comfort of your bottoms.

But for some reason, Suguru didn't even let you beg for him to feel how badly you wanted him. His hand instantly climbed into your bottoms as he was on top of you. Through the rough kissing, you could hear him let out a sigh of satisfaction. He completely indulged in the pool of wetness in between your thighs, and you eagerly spread them further apart to give him room.

You winced at the feeling of him biting your lower lip, not even having enough time to react to the pinch of blood that drew from your plush lips. Suguru took it upon himself to let his tongue lick up the blood on your lip as he was aching to taste you. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered what had gotten into your husband. The two of you did have a couple of drinks tonight during dinner, but that never had him acting too brutish. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it; the only thing you could do was indulge in his newest sexual ways. Especially when your slick was staining his guitar-playing fingertips as your fingers grasped at his hair to tug out the black scrunchie holding his hair out his face. Your fingers glide through the strands of silk, occasionally tugging at it to gain a groan from him. 

Clothes begin to vanish from your bodies with each passing second. You could hear your heart thump against your chest each time Suguru placed a kiss on your neck, which turned into nibbles. Your skin grew hotter, feeling the swelling of the hickey that formed upon your neck. Your kiss-bruised lips gasped apart when the two of you finally became one. Perfect-manicured nails pierced at Suguru’s tattooed skin feeling his cock stretch you out. His callous fingertips brush against your waist, cooing softly in that voice that makes you feel lightheaded. On a regular night, he always comforted you at a time like this. He consistently mumbled delicate words of praise like a sweet tune on a Sunday morning while his thick cock was barely inside you. 

Once again, you didn’t know what had gotten into your husband. He tugged you closer, and his hips pushed forward, bullying his cock into your drooling cunt that twitched in anticipation due to his sudden movement. He let out a hiss as if it was his first time feeling you clasp around his hardened member. His eyes traveled down to admire how your face scrunched up in pure bliss. His lips curled into a smirk before he rolled his hips at a rhythmic pace that drove the both of you insane. If only you knew. 

If only you knew the despicable deal, your husband made for the price of fame. 

You had lost track of time while the only thing that echoed in your eardrums was the lewd sound of skin slapping against each other. Geto decorated your skin with so many markings that you mentally lost count. Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the fiery pit in your stomach. You were so close to cumming; frankly, you didn't want it to stop. Your nails dragged across his skin like a teacher would do to a chalkboard to get her students' attention. Your tears blinded your sight, and your brain was in complete mush. Your thoughts kept spinning back to why your husband was fucking you like this? Your Suguru never let his hips ram into you so aggressively. His kisses never were so stern that they made you feel abhorred.

As if he read your mind, his hand went up to grasp at the headboard that was colliding against the wall. The sound distracted him from not only your cute whithers of a name that wasn't his but the voice in his head of the other man screaming at him to stop, that this wasn't a part of the deal.

"I'm fuckin' you like this because you're mine."

You felt like your lower half exploded when that phrase fell from his lips, letting out a long, drastic cry of pleasure. Although your drooling cunt fluttered around his cock—he wasn't finished with you yet. Your eyes looked at your husband, above you, with a look you never gave him before. It was a look with so many questions you were too exhausted to search for the answers. You watched him stick his index and middle finger inside his mouth before letting it tiptoe between your sweat-coated bodies. His fingers rubbed at your clit, and his grin grew even more sinister, watching you attempt to slither from his cock, tapping at that one spot that caused your toes to curl.

"Go ahead, let it all out." He coos while his strokes slow down to mimic your pants.

The blood rushed to his face quickly, causing his cheeks to crimson. His strands of hair stuck to his forehead due to the sweat droplets that decorated it, and it finally hit him that he was at his boiling point. He was so close to filling you up. Because you were his, you were his, not that lousy musician. Soon, he couldn't control himself. His hips were bucking forward like a hormonal college student that just gotten his first whiff of pussy. With a hushed groan of your name, he cums quickly, and it is so much of it. Thick ropes of cum spill out of you with each exhausted and sloppy thrust from the man you call your husband, Suguru. A complete mess stained the sheets before his body plops down next to you. His cock went limp, and his brain was still egging him on for more (or was that the voices in his head?).

Your face was buried into the crook of Suguru's neck while exhaustion finally washed over your body. You could feel him place a kiss on the crown of your head as you cuddle up against him some more. Your body is completely marked up and leaking with his cum. You didn't even have enough energy to utter I Love you like you usually do after sex with him.

"Sleep well, pumpkin, and I love you too." You heard your husband say before your eyes fluttered closed.

The following morning, as you were standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom, your mind replayed the events from last night. That wasn't your husband. That wasn't the man you said I do to. But he looked like your husband. He looked like Suguru. His touch didn't feel like Suguru's, though. But it was him, right? He called you by that nickname that had you giggling when it flew out his mouth. Pumpkin.

Your fingertips delineate alongside the bite marks and hickeys on your soft flesh. Suguru never marked you up like this. He would always say—he didn't need to decorate your body with marks to prove that you were his. His demeanor and his words confirmed it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of damp arms wrapping around your waist. You are so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even notice your husband has finished showering. The water droplets stained the t-shirt that belonged to him while his grasp on you grew tighter. His lips kiss the artwork he created on your neck the previous night, and the scent of his shampoo tickles your nose. With each second, the kisses on your neck grew rougher, and below in your panties—grew damper.

"Suguru, not right now. I have work soon, and you must go to the studio to wrap up your album." Your words come up as an ached whisper, not wanting to cave in his sexual favors this morning.

Your eyes shifted closed when you felt his teeth nibble at the sensitive spots on your neck, and his hand disappeared in your underwear. Your eyes soon snapped open when you heard a voice that didn't sound like Suguru. It was more sinister. Bone-chilling. Menacing.

"Who's Suguru?"

Your eyes looked into the mirror, and you felt your stomach create the most unappealing knots. Your heart felt like it was bashing at your chest so aggressively that it was trying to escape from your body.

As you stared at the man in the mirror who was grasping at your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, and the most devilish smirk on his face, you knew you should have gone with your gut.  The stitch lines on his forehead were as disturbing as the thought that you didn't sleep with Suguru last night.

"Kenjaku."

YOUR ARGUMENTS NEVER DRAGGED OUT LIKE THIS. They were always little and ended with mumbled apologies and hush kisses after heated words. However, this argument left the most hideous knot in your stomach whenever your mind wandered off to think about it. You never went over two days not speaking to your boyfriend Jason, it was never in the both of your nature to not at least hear each other voice. Even if it was for a split second, the two of you always found a way to talk to each other. Perhaps that's why these past couple of days have been rough for you.

A simple disagreement about communication was an explosive time bomb that caused you to question where your own relationship stood at the moment. You found your eyes watering thinking about how upset Jason was before storming out of your apartment. The sound of the door slamming still played in your head like a horrendous loop of a chilling Halloween tune. One day turned into two days and two days turned into three—still no word of him. Your pride not wanting to message him since you weren't even sure he understood why you were so frustrated at him.

"Hey sweetheart, I can't wait until you and Jason get here. I know you said, he didn't have any specific request for dinner tonight, but I think I went a little overboard" You remembered your mom saying before you left to venture towards your childhood home.

You had forgotten all about Jason meeting your parents this weekend. You couldn't even come up with an excuse on why he wasn't coming. If you told them that you and he were taking a break, your parents would most likely not like him. So, here you were showing up with just yourself and some excuse on behalf of Jason. Maybe you can say his grandfather got sick? Had to babysit his younger brother? Anything to avoid any other curious questions from your parents. Praying that within your time of not seeing them for a while, they would no longer be able to read you like a book similar to when you were a teenager.

However, the time has come, and here you were sitting at the dinner table—alone and with silence swallowing you and your parents up bit by bit. You sipped at your wine nervously before it was your mom addressing the elephant in the room of your missing boyfriend that you spent the past couple of weeks gloating about how excited you were for him to finally meet them. Your mother's lips parted to speak, but the sound of the doorbell interjected in her concerning words for you.

"I'll get it," Your father firmly said before he's standing to go answer the door.

As soon as your father was out of sight, your mom leaned over a bit to get a closer look at you. She took note of the way you were avoiding her direct eye contact, "Sweetie, did something happen between you and Jason?" Her hands reach over to caress your hand.

"You know you can speak to me about anything," She comforts you like the way she did during your first high school breakup.

You were trying so hard not to cry. Your eyes were aching to let a tear finally come tumbling down your cheeks simply because you missed him. But the sound of a familiar laugh causes your head to snap towards the entry of the dining room. There he stood with a black eye a bruised lip and that stupid grin he always gives you. Jason Todd.

"I apologize for being late," Jason says as he placed a kiss on the top of your head before taking the seat next to you at the dinner table.f

You could tell that your mom was suspicious of Jason, her eyes darting from you who had plastered a smile on your face, and back to Jason. He managed to butter your father up with some joke and an expensive bottle of scotch you were sure Jason probably snagged from Bruce when Alfred wasn't around. "I just got caught up with work." He says.

Your mom darkly chuckles. You wanted to mentally roll your eyes at the way the kind sweet welcome basket-making mom went away with a quickness. Now, the protective mother lion attempting to protect her cub demeanor was on. "Work? Huh? What exactly do you do?" She asks.

"Jesus! At least let the kid put food on his plate first." Your dad sighs with a head shake.

Jason returned the chuckle and gave your mom a grin. You weren't sure what excuse he was going to give her. You just knew the true occupation would have your parents banning you were seeing Jason as if you were Rapunzel herself.

Jason motions to the bruises that decorated his face like a used art canvas. "Boxing." He said with a grin.

You watched your mom shift in her seat. It was as if she was searching for if he was telling the truth or not. You wanted to tell her that this trick only worked on yourself and your father, but you just sat back passing whatever food Jason's eyes lit up seeing. After all, your mom did cook all of this for him. As soon as his plate was full, he dug it. He had a quite large appetite.

"So, are you pro or trying to become pro?" Your father asked as he was eating also.

You knew anything about sports would get your dad excited. He used to coach your high school basketball team.

"I'm trying to, hence the fact that I was late. I want to apologize again for that, I know this was very important for you two and Y/N." His eyes glances over you before you could feel him grabbing your hand under the table.

Could he sense that you were beyond out of it at the moment? Your mind was racing with so many questions? He just showed up after the two of you haven't talked for days. Eating with your family like the two of you haven't shared severe words towards each other.

"No need to apologize, she seems happy that you came and that's all that matters." Your mom answered before her lips finally curve into a smile. "She talks so much about you that we just had to meet the guy that has our daughter so lovestruck in Gotham." She pushes around the vegetables on her plate.

"Hopefully, she has only told you good things," Jason says.

"You know the usual. He's so cute. I really think I love him. We'll make such cute babies...the usual things." Your mom says.

"I didn't say the last thing." You said out loud.

"So, you don't think you and I will make cute babies?" Jason playfully nudges your shoulder. "Come on, they'll have the most cutest nose because they'll have your nose and my eyes." He says with a grin.

There goes that grin again. That grin causes your body to instantly heat up and all the blood to rush to your cheeks. Despite being so confused about the situation, you still returned the smile that you were trying so hard to hold back. "I didn't say that. It's just, I haven't mentioned anything about babies to her. The other statements are true though."

Jason laughs, "I know."

You could feel the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on your palm. How can he make you feel at home even though you were technically in your childhood home? He made you feel so safe and cherished.

The night went on with Jason wooing the hearts of your parents. He had a drink with your father in your father's study, most likely giving Jason the somewhat-threatening threat in case Jason broke your heart. Jason even helped your mom put away the leftover food that was left. As soon as the moon peaked through the curtains of the house, it was time for everyone to call it a night. You got ready for bed after showering, most likely settling in bed to go to sleep. You knew your mom would purposely have her book club ladies at the house the following morning just so she can show off her future son-in-law.

As you were in bed reading a book, you could hear Jason come into your room after showering. He's rubbing a towel through his damp dark locs while a white towel was wrapped around his waist hiding away his lower half you have seen countless times. You hated to admit that your curious eyes glanced up from the romanticized words in your book to peek at him while he was looking through his suitcase for something to wear to bed. Droplets of water staining his toned chest followed by the glorious site of happy trail—that went so well with the well-sculptured v-line that was on display.

Your lip grazed at your chapstick-covered lips before you realized you were staring. You quickly averted your eyes back to your book, but your attention was tugged away once again due to Jason's words.

"I'm sorry, that argument we had was so fuckin' stupid." He admitted. His back was turned from you, but you knew he had a look of regret on his face. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

"It's okay. I figured you were sorry as soon as you came here. If you wouldn't have shown up, I would have assumed our relationship was done." You truthfully admitted.

Jason turned around and the look of horror that was on his face caught you off guard. You could even see his lip twitch in annoyance at you even thinking about the mere thought of you two breaking up. "Please, never think about something like that." He takes a couple of steps to be by your side.

"We'll figure it out, we'll talk it out. That's what we do." He firmly said.

And that was true. Every argument, you two figured it out. You sat down and communicated with each other. Perhaps this argument just got a little too heated due to the overwhelming amounts of stress on both ends. With Jason and his Red Hood activities and your life at work, it was bound for both of you two explode like a ticking time bomb. You just exploded at each other though.

“I know.” Your voice trails off as you looked down. Finally realizing that your argument was silly, could have been resolved if the two of you weren’t so stubborn.

Jason’s tall stature is hovering over you before he’s lifting your face up to look at him. “Don’t have such a down face.” He’s leaning down peppering your face with subtle kisses gaining a giggle from you.

"Jason, stop! Your towel is going to drop." You said through your faint giggles.

"Let it," Jason responded before he entrapped your lips.

His kiss forced you to fall back on your bed, your body pushing yourself further on it to give Jason space to climb on top of you, which he did with a quickness while being sure to not squish you with his weight. Through subtle breaks between the kisses, you’re mumbling against Jason’s lips. “I missed you so much.” 

It was true. The days without him not being next to you in bed felt empty & quiet. You missed the warmth of being in his arms after a long day. You missed his soft grumbles while he was sleeping so close to you not wanting to let go. You just missed him.

“We miss you too baby,” Jason spoke back against your lips. 

His tongue is stained with the taste of mint toothpaste traces alongside the outline of your lower lip. You could even feel him grind against you a bit, feeling the imprint of his hardened cock against the inside of your thigh. That’s what he meant when he said we. 

Your hand slipped between the two of your bodies, gracefully brushing against his heated skin to tug the towel down. Your hand grazed against his hardened cock causing him to tug away to let out a relaxed sigh. Jason begins to kiss your neck, indulging in the scent of you that he missed so much. His hand grabbed ahead of yours which was so desperate to make him feel good. He pinned them above your head and kissed his way back to your kiss-swollen lips.

He mumbles against your delicate skin, "I want to make you feel good."

His callous fingertips danced down your body until they found their way into your underwear. The oversized t-shirt that once belonged to Jason was pushed up just so he could have better access to you and what was his. He hooked his fingers upon your underwear to tug them down your smooth legs. Tossing the piece of fabric so carelessly behind him before he kneeled down. His hand tugged you closer to the edge of the bed. His lips pressed teasing kisses on the inside of your thigh.

He was so eager to get a taste of you and you could tell by how eager his kisses got as he got closer to your drooling cunt. You relaxed under his touch when you finally felt his face fully in between your thighs. Your breath instantly hitched in your throat feeling the way Jason's tongue glided against your puffy lips. Your hand instantly went to grasp for his hair as felt the wet kisses upon your sensitive bud. "Jason, stop the teasin' please." You whimpered out.

You gained a hum from your boyfriend as he made direct eye contact while he was letting the flat of his tongue collect all your juices before he was back paying attention to his task. His eyes closed as if he wanted to focus on making sure you came. Each time you attempted to squirm away from him, his arms only pinned you back down forcing you to endure him. After all, he hasn't had a taste of you in a while—it's the least you could do.

As soon as you felt his tongue trace alongside your sopping entrance of your pussy, you felt yourself rocking upon his face in the most pornographic manner. You prompt yourself up on your shoulder assuring Jason how well he was making you feel. The fiery pit that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach was slowly approaching. The only thing you could let out was the moans that encourage Jason some more. "Don't stop Jason, I'm so close." You panted out.

As soon as he heard them words, Jason's tongue begin to rapidly flicker at your clit. He insert his index and middle fingers and his dick appeared to grow harder feeling how wet you were. His fingers weren't shy to make you feel just as good as his mouth. He was sure to pump them inside you at the pace you loved. He felt you tighten around his finger, but that didn't stop Jason from removing himself from between your thighs. Your body shook so violently while your hips rocked against Jason riding out your drastic orgasm. You exhaled sharply letting out a dragged-out moan of pleasure and as soon as Jason's mouth was no longer on you—you felt so empty.

"Gosh, you look so beautiful like this," said Jason as he was letting his tongue glide across his lips collecting any more of you that stained his mouth.

Jason was a very passionate lover at times. It all depended on his mood and the situation. Tonight, you couldn't tell which side you were going to get. But from the way he left you a panting disaster after being in between your thighs—you knew he wanted to prove something to you. Perhaps he missed you during the days you two weren't speaking. As Jason climbed on top of you, his hand lining himself up at your soaked entrance, his tip that oozed with precum teasingly brushed against you.

Before your lips parted to mumble a sarcastic complaint, Jason's cock shoved its way inside you bit by bit shutting you up completely. Your head sank into the pillow under your head and your hand flew up to grasp at Jason, "It's okay baby, you just haven't had my dick in you in a while." He cooed down at you.

By his cocky tone, you weren't sure if he was praising you or mocking you. He leaned down to pepper your face with soft kisses, "I'm going to start movin', okay?" He adds.

Jason begins to move slowly. He didn't want to hurt you or anything, so until now his strokes were slow and steady. It kinda felt like the first time you two had made love. You remembered the vivid memory of when Jason first said I love you. It took you by shock because you weren't even sure he meant it. However, the way he made love to you that night proved it.

With each move of his hips, Jason gained a moan from you. From broken gasp to subtle mumbles of his name, he was putting his all into making sure you felt good. Most likely putting his own pleasure on the backburning just to hear you coo out his name a little louder in the night. When Jason heard your hush moan encouraging him to go faster, he did what he was told like the perfect boyfriend he was.

His pace quickened causing the headboard to your bed to knock against the wall. You were glad your parent's room was down the hall, but you did remember on some nights your mom would leave the master bedroom to get tea when she couldn't sleep. Hopefully, tonight wouldn't be one of those nights.

"Fuck, you feel so good." Jason groaned out.

He tugged his cock out fully and his eyes darkened at the sight of your slick covering his cock. He pushed himself back inside your addicting cunt as if it was the missing puzzle piece to a puzzle. The feeling of you wrapped around him was like an intoxicating drug he couldn't get enough of. Without a word, Jason hooked his muscular arms under your thighs to form the lewdest mating press position.

You were completely trapped under Jason due to each time his hips pushed forward he was bottoming down inside you. The sound of skin slapping against each other echoed the room alongside your broken moans of his name.

"Whose pussy is this?" Jason questioned. Each syllable that passed by his lips, he rammed his hips into your harder.

Usually, you would spit out some bratty comment to get a rise out of the dark-haired male, but tonight in the heat of the moment—you're desperately and proudly moaning out that it was his and only his.

With your legs hooked under Jason's arm, your eyes lolly in the back of your head each time his hips pushed forward. Your pedicured toes curled with each kiss his cock pressed against your cervix. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his limbs grasping to want to intertwine your bodies some more.

"I'm going to cum Jay," You moaned out. A single tear glides down your flushed cheeks.

You finally were able to meet Jason's intense stare. Sweat droplets decorated his forehead and chiseled chest. His face was shaded with the color read through the intense session of passionate sex. "Go ahead and cum. Let it all out, baby." He says.

Jason could feel your thighs quivering under his arms and that caused him to drop them immediately—returning to the ardent missionary position the two of you were previously in. His strokes were slow and sensual. A sign that he was so close to being a cumming mess just like you. His hand went down to rub at your throbbing clit in a circular motion. It was quite amazing how well, Jason knew your body. From the way your lips gasped apart or the way your eyebrows crinkled together—he knew that you were so close to clutching around his cock and that's all that mattered to him right now.

The pleasurable feeling of you pulsing around him drives him to the edge. The grasp he had on you grew a bit tighter and his strokes were a tad bit sloppier. Just a matter of time, he could feel his balls grow heavier. A string of profanity words with a mixture of whines rolled off his tongue as if it was a foreign language. He could feel his body grow hotter due to the load of cum he just released. Just as the vigilante was about to pull out hesitantly due to the overwhelming power of your pussy clutching around him perfectly, you wrapped your legs around his waist. The heel to your feet pressed against his lower back as you trapped him into a kiss indulging in the mess below your waist. The both of you are forced to ride out each other high from makeup sex until your bodies finally gave out on you.

Jason's body collapsed next to yours, you and Jason were completely exhausted while your dazed eyes stared at the white-colored ceiling. Your brain felt like mush while your body still was processing what had just happened.

"You think your parents heard us?" Jason broke the thick silence between the two of you.

"If my mom starts showing you my baby hand-me-downs in the morning, then yes." You rolled over to cuddle against him. Your head promptly laid on his chest as you felt him kiss the top of your head.

"Good thing I didn't pull out then."

NANAMI KENTO WAS ALWAYS A FAMILY MAN. His family was quite known in Japan. With his mother being a well-known jeweler and his father being an established lawyer, the bloodline was as successful as it can get. He understood that his family strived for the best and they weren’t expecting anything but the best. The outrageous idea of him being an artist nearly put both his parents into a retirement home early. They expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a lawyer, but he just couldn’t. With being one of the most successful artists in the world, they managed to finally let go of the disappointment of him being an artist. However, they still wanted control of his life by choosing who he will be married to—which blew up in their face and is the reason why he was meeting with them in the first place.

As he made his way through the restaurant, following behind the hostess as they led him to a table in a secluded area for privacy—the artist was not only met with his parents but his grandfather Karou also. His grandfather was old, very old—but he still had a mouth on him that caused Nanami to sulk into his seat in embarrassment. “Good Afternoon,” Nanami exclaimed as he took the seat across from his mom and next to his grandfather. 

“We heard the news. I can’t believe we didn’t know, we thought we did so much research on that woman and her family,  sweetie.” His mother rubbed at her temple in shame. “I’m so sorry sweetie, I can only imagine how you feel having to fall out of love with her due to this.” She sighs.

The thing is, Nanami fell out of love with Serena (or should he say Lana) a long time ago. He felt stupid that he didn’t listen to his heart to break it off. Only thinking about disappointing his parents if he broke off the engagement and how horrible of a PR disaster that would be, now knowing that Lana was a con artist. Deep down Nanami knew that Lana knew he was never in love with her. He just didn’t know how long. 

“Give me a fuckin’ break Kento!” Serena yelled as she was sipping from the bottle of wine. “You’re still in love with that woman.” 

Nanami had his back turned away from her as he was washing dishes. He knew that she was just drunk, on her fifth glass of wine for the evening. He had an important meeting in the morning and he didn’t have time to indulge in any arguments with her tonight. 

“I’m engaged to you, not her!” Nanami finally spoke up. 

“It doesn’t seem like it. Ever since your gala, you have just been acting differently.” Serena argued back as she placed the bottle down on the marble counter. 

Nanami knew that was true. Y/N and him slept together here in this house before Serena and himself moved into it. Afterward, all he could see was her. Y/N L/N. When he had sex with Serena, that’s all he saw was Y/N. The mere memory of them having sex as if they were back in college swirled around his mind. Serena just wasn’t like Y/N. While Y/N was this genuine and kind person, Serena was the complete opposite of that. 

Nanami turned around to look at Serena—meeting the glare she was giving him. He dried his hands using the dish towel and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then leave, Serena. If you’re so sure about this. Leave.”

Nanami should have known right there that Serena was only there for his money. What type of woman knowingly stays in an engagement when their fiancé is in love with someone else? Then again what type of man stays in an engagement when he’s in love with someone else? Nanami couldn’t put the full blame for the situation on his parents or Serena, he had to take the blame also. For lying to Y/N to even pretending to be in love with someone like Serena. He couldn’t even forgive himself for his actions, so he highly doubts Y/N would. 

“We would like to apologize, son,” His father spoke up, completely interrupting Nanami’s thoughts.

“As you should. You both should be ashamed of yourself for even trying to dictate his life.” Karou spoke up.

“Dad.” Nanami’s mom spoke firmly. “Please don’t start.” 

“It’s true. We wouldn’t have to worry about the PR disaster to come if you guys just let the kid do what he wants,” Karou explained. He nudged his grandson’s side and gave him that grin he always gave him. “You trusted him to major in what he wanted to do despite not agreeing with it—and you see where that got him.” 

Nanami could always count on his grandfather to be the voice of reason in the situation. He watched as his parents shared a look before excusing themselves from the table. They probably had to talk about what to do in a situation like this. After all, they did help create it. Nanami leaned back into his seat before Karou broke the silence. 

“Ken, do you still keep in contact with that one girl?” Karou asked as he looked at him. 

“What girl, grandpa?” Nanami asked.

“Don’t act so stupid, that pretty one. She always had such a bright smile when guys would take me to my doctor’s appointment together when you were in college.” 

Nanami chuckles at his statement, “You mean when you would not go to your doctor’s appointment unless I brought her with me.” 

“It’s nothing wrong with that,” Karou answered slowly. “I think you should contact her again, when you’re ready, of course.” 

Nanami sighed. “It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand,” He adds. “I think I messed that up a long time ago.” 

“Of course, ‘cause you’re stupid and spend too much time kissing your parents' ass.” 

“Grandpa!” 

“It’s the truth.” Karou took a sip of his water. 

Nanami watched as his hand shook while he lifted the glass. He knew not to help his grandfather do such a task simply because he would only complain. “She was caught in the crossfire of this Serena situation and I may have burnt my bridges with her badly.” 

“Okay? So rebuild these bridges.” Karou said just as Nanami’s parents returned to the table.

He watched as his parents shared a look before his father was speaking. “We are so sorry son. We take full responsibility for trying to control your life so much. Now you have to worry about this woman possibly ruining your reputation.” 

“There’s proof of her being a con artist, she most likely went along to con someone else. I just want to move on from this.” Nanami responded. “I can’t fully blame you guys since you were just trying to do what was best for me. However, for now—I have to go rebuild some bridges I burnt down with somebody..so excuse me.” He stood up from the table and walked away.

Before he got further away from the table, he turned to see his grandfather giving him a thumbs up and poorly executed wink. Nanami chuckles before heading out of the restaurant. He had to make amends with Y/N and he would do anything to do that. Even if there is a possibility that she didn’t even want anything to do with Nanami, he still hopes that she would forgive him at least. He couldn’t live a life where the one girl he cared about didn’t at least know how sorry he was. He could live without the two of them not being as close as they used to, but—he couldn’t live with the thought of Y/N not hearing him apologize. 

As soon as he got into his car, he zoomed to Y/N’s office as if his life depended on it. His mind raced with what he would say to her. Well, he should start with sorry. Yeah, he’ll start with that and just go from there. The insane thing about all of this is that Nanami still kept in contact with Mariah. Mariah still emailed him about ideas for the collaboration with himself and Y/N, which he had to admit the young fashion designer had some amazing ideas. He still thought the idea of combining his art and Y/N’s fashion could be good for both of them. It could open up their career to so many different things. 

When Nanami arrived at Y/N’s office, Mariah who was at her desk eyes bulged out her head seeing Nanami. She quickly stood up trying to catch up with his prideful strides. “Uh, what are you doing here?” Mariah asked.

“I’m here to apologize to Y/N. I know I don’t have any flowers or anything, but I need her to know that I’m sorry.” Nanami looked at Mariah with the most heartbreaking eyes.

She felt like if she were to utter Y/N’s name, the man in front of her would break down crying. Mariah would shake her head, “No, this isn’t a good time.” She exclaims.

“Is she in a meeting right now? I can wait.” Nanami said.

“No.”

“Zoom call?” 

“No.” 

“Designing something. I know she hates when people interrupt her doing that.” Nanami admits. 

“No.” 

“Then what?” Nanami asked.

“I know about your fiancé being exposed and the quite interesting cabin trip, but I think she and Toji broke up. I mean they technically weren’t dating—but it really hit her. She just doesn't want to be bothered right now.” Mariah says. “She’s been in her office crying here and there.” 

Nanami’s lips formed a straight line. He didn’t expect Toji and her to call it quits, again. It felt like college all over again. Nanami was a little too familiar with a situation like this. So, he knew exactly how to chair the woman up. “Do you have a vending machine here by chance?” He asked.

Mariah’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. She would nod her head. “It’s down the hall to the left. Right next to the break room.” She admits and Nanami nods, not saying a word to Mariah, and walks down to the hall. 

When he found the vending machine, his chocolate brown hues scanned over the variety of things in it. He figured she would have this specific snack in it considering how she loved them so much. He pulled out his wallet to grab the yen bills to pay for them. As he watch the snack and the drink he paid for drop down to the slot, his mind was racing about what he was going to say. Maybe it was because this time it was so different. In college, they were always on good terms when he consoled her. Now, he felt like it was a bit hypocritical for him to attempt to give her some advice to make her feel better—when he knew he was most likely the reason why she and Toji fell apart in the first place.

When he returned to Mariah, she glanced at the snacks in Nanami’s hand. Her brain couldn’t comprehend what he had planned considering that she had attempted to use food to make the woman feel better also. She even went to that pizza place that sells this pizza Y/N loved. However, last time she checked Y/N had let the pizza grow cold before asking Mariah to put it in the break room fridge as she was attempting to color something in her book. 

“Are you sure about this?” Mariah asked. “I just feel like you’re the last person she wants to see, after Toji.” 

“I’ll be okay. I just think she needs to let out the frustration she has inside of her. If I have to be the one to receive the harsh blows, I’m okay with that.” 

The grasp Mariah had on Nanami’s sleeve loosened as she would step back. Her lips curled in a sly smile—hoping that her boss would at least open up. Even if that meant receiving the harshness first. Nanami had knocked on the office door twice. He didn’t even hear a come in or go away, so he slid into the office and glanced around his surroundings. Y/N was tapping away on her computer, her eyes never leaving the screen and you could hear her faint sniffles from crying previously. Nanami took a couple of steps forward towards her dress—the woman in front of him was so into what was on the computer screen, she didn’t even notice that he had walked in. His lips parted to greet her but when her eyes landed on his, those eyes that once lit up like the brightest stars at night when she saw him, started to water. Her lip gloss-covered lips began to quiver and soon she’s burning her head in her arms on her desk and back to crying. 

Nanami placed the juice box and box of pocky sticks on the desk in front of Y/N. Her head was buried in her arms as she was mumbling something in German, which he was sure was some random profanity word he taught her when she found out he knew German. He could hear her mumbling something, but couldn’t quite understand her. However, her hand did reach in front of her grabbing the juice box he placed in front of her. 

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, but you haven’t kicked me out yet or yelled at me—so maybe I can help you feel better.” Nanami adjusted himself in the seat in front of her desk. “So, I shall wait here until you’re ready to talk..just like old times” He adds.

The memory of sitting in her room listening to her color in some design she had to redo for class in a frustrated manner after her professor had made her redo it. Or when she got into an argument with her parents and gave everyone the silent treatment. Nanami always patiently waited for her to open up to him because he knew she would do the same for him in the roles were reversed. 

So he was sitting in front of her desk flipping through a fashion magazine as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The sound of the miniature desk clock on her desk ticked with each passing minute while the two of them sat in silence. A silence both of them were deeply familiar with. That was between soft swallows from the juice box, and Y/N finally decided to speak. “Why are you here? I’m still mad at you.” 

“I know and that’s not stopping me from leaving,” Nanami responded while his brown-colored eyes never left the magazine he was reading. 

He heard her let out an annoyed sigh before she’s typing away on her computer once again. Occasionally he could hear her munching on the pocky sticks he brought. “So you’re not leaving?” She asks.

“Nope. I met with my parents and grandfather before coming here.” Nanami says. “They apologized for their trouble, but I can’t fully blame them or Serena for the situation. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

Y/N sipped from the juice box and leaned back in her seat. Her eyes finally met with Nanami’s. “Okay and?” She carelessly asked. Her shoulders sluggishly slouch as she leans her head back to be met with the headrest of her chair. 

“It’s going to take more than a lousy sorry for me to forgive you. What you did hurt me and caused a drift in not only our friendship but the friend group as a whole. All of you knew about it except Mei, but no one told me. No one! You guys let me continue to be so dumb when you had Serena all along. So, I can’t accept your apology, not right now.” She pauses to let out a weary sigh before continuing. “But I hate myself because I messed up something that could have been so good for me because deep down you oddly have a place in my heart.” 

Nanami was taken aback by the words that left Y/N’s mouth. His lips parted to speak, but the sound of her phone interrupted the two. He leaned back in his seat as he heard the familiar voice of her former mentor from college Ari Aiko. Ari Aiko was facetiming one of her former mentees with a huge deal for her.

“My love it looks like you have been crying. Have you been crying?” Ari’s voice chirped through the phone. 

Despite the woman being in her fifties, she still had the voice of bright sunshine. Every person in the fashion industry knew who she was. With her vibrant fashion, various fashion shows, and even brighter personality. It is important to note that she wasn’t always like that—Y/N practically changed the woman during college when she was mentoring under her. 

“I’m okay. I just had a rough morning.” Y/N sighs, her eyes darting to Nanami wondering why he was still sitting in her office intruding on her phone call.

Nanami who caught the dangering stare would begin to stand up but Ari’s words stopped him immediately.

“Well, I hope the news I’m about to tell you—stop those dreadful tears. I was rereading over your pitch your assistant sent me weeks ago. You know the collaboration with that handsome artist Nanami Kento. I love the idea of it and hosting it in Paris. I’m hoping you two are still working on that. Although, the gossip has spread around quite quickly that his engagement is off the tables.” Ari was blabbering on nonsense. 

“Uh—I don’t think—” Y/N’s words were cut off by Ari.

“I am willing to sponsor it.” Ari immediately says.

“What?” Y/N asked in shock.

“I would sponsor it. I’m extremely grateful that your assistant didn’t pitch the idea to that lady over at America’s Vogue. It’ll be a good look for you, him, and me. Plus, it will be such an amazing thing in the fashion and art industry.” Ari explained. 

“Okay, but define sponsor? Everyone has different definitions when it comes to investing their money into something.” Y/N’s eyes glance at Nanami who had taken the seat once again and eagerly was listening.

“You’re still as stubborn as can be my love. Just please let me sponsor everything. You two focus on making sure you have models at the show, actual fashion and art to display, a very nice guest list, and a good ass afterparty.” Ari admits. 

Nanami glanced at Y/N. He’s quickly grabbing a sticky note and pen that was on her desk and writing on it. The note stated that, if she didn’t feel comfortable taking the deal—don’t do it. However, the look in Y/N’s eyes was the same look he saw when she hosted her very first fashion show for Paris Fashion Week. It was a look of drive. A quite attractive look to him. 

“Fine. You want to sponsor it, I’m not going to decline that.” Y/N says. “I’ll have my assistant contact your assistant to set up a meeting sometime next week.” 

“Of course. Hugs and kisses.” Ari blew a quick kiss at the camera. “Also be sure to bring the artist with you—after all, it is his artwork that will be on some of your clothes and being displayed.” 

“I’ll let him know. Have a good day Ari.” 

With that Y/N ends the FaceTime call and tosses her phone on the desk. She leans back in her seat and forced a smile on her face. 

“Well Kento, I guess you can use this time to work for my forgiveness.” 

“I was planning on doing that anyway.” Nanami bluntly admitted. 

During that moment of them being boxed in her office, she gave him a sly grin before rolling her eyes and muttering something in German before going back to what she was doing on her computer. Occasionally, picking up pocky sticks to nibble on and not realizing that Nanami was deeply serious about the newest tasks in front of him. That was work for her to trust him again and come up with ideas for their collaboration. 

This was his time to redeem himself and fix something he had broken. 

ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ... ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏɴᴇʏ

ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ... ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ᴘᴜʀᴇ

ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ... ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ꜱᴇʀᴏ x ꜰ!ᴀɴɢᴇʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ — ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴠᴇ

ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ... ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴜꜱɪɴᴇꜱꜱ

ꜰɪꜰᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ... ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ᴛᴡᴏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʜᴏʀɴꜱ

ꜱɪxᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ... ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ꜱᴜɴᴀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʀᴏᴀᴅꜱ

ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ... ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ᴅʀᴀᴋᴇɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ — ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

But you can't, sent here to purge this Earth of the evil, of the sinful things defying Death as they linger in the shroud of night, too unholy to see the light of day.

Clouds lazily float over the full moon, momentarily blocking out what little light filters through the canopy and by the time the dense vapor eclipsing the moon dissipates there is a shadow looming in the clearing across from you.

You should startle, your ancestors must be even louder now, more worried as you think you feel a tug at your silver starlight hirori. Yet still training for endlessly, tireless years proved the steady stance you had. The blankness to your face as you relax your muscles.

Telling yourself this was just another sparring match.

Amber eyes glow in the dark, kanji in his eyes as you fight the flinch in your spine as you read the unluckiest of numbers.

Three.

Upper three.

A slow steady intake of breath through your nose. Inflating your lungs with the force of your diaphragm, held at the apex of breath.

"A woman slayer?" His voice is velvet sin.

Sucking on your tongue harshly as you feel every inch of skin that his eyes rove over. Like having the evil eye pointed directly at you. Fingers gently ghosting over your very soul and you feel nauseated from his presence.

"Shame I don't fight women. Your spirit is….interesting." In an instant that weighted gaze is gone as the broad man with harsh lined tattoos begins to give you his back. The pink haired man choosing to ignore the sweet lull of your smell that makes his cock stir. He chalks up a discrepancy encouraged from Douma speaking of fertile women non stop.

His fucking mistake to give a tiger his back.

You're pouncing him faster than he can react, first form, Swift Nightshade, severing a part of his head but his vertebrae are too thick. Your amethyst blade is lodged, struggling you place your between his shoulder blades trying to force it free to no avail.

"Oh little moon flower." He sighs, his voice soft before it turns darker, clipped, "You're gonna regret that."

He grabs onto the blade and shoves it from his throat as if he were merely dusting off his shoulders, sending you flying. Bursting through the trunks of thick trees, hundreds of years of growing just to be snapped like a twig in the matter of seconds.

Before you can take in another breath he's on top of you, smile dripping with cruelty. Reminding you all too much like a cat with a mouse in their claws.

Toying as he does, tossing you again in the opposite direction and by the grace of muscle memory you land on your feet.

If you see an Upper Kizuki. Run.

But that command falls on deaf ears. Now that fear has melted, hot as it turns into molten rage. Rage you've worked so hard to control, the flames of it licking at your insides, tongue sharp and jagged as it rips away the sinew from bone.

Turning you into something anew.

A quick change in your stance and you're launching yourself at him again. Fifth form Might of Wolf's bane.

A visage of a giant wolf forms from the swift movements of your blade, slicing his arm clean off only for his fingers to flex a moment later, a new limb grown from his body.

"Pathetic. Your fighting spirit wavers between nothing and supreme territory, you have no control at all."

"Fuck off." You hiss, jumping backward as he advances. Combining two forms, Lily of the Valley and Swaying Foxglove.

Flowers break through the soil in the ground, creating a meadow so vast and thick that there isn't a place that Akaza cannot step without crushing the head of a flower.

"Cheap parlor tricks moonflower." He takes another step and a scent washes over him. Wrapping around him like a silken blanket as his eyes flutter with a sudden exhaustion.

It's weird how the feeling is how you smell. Like the courtyard in his home and just in the distance he thinks he can hear a rhythmic thump as water is dumped into a pool meant to reflect the sky. A mirror for the moon to dance in.

Who used to say that to him again?

Suddenly there is a searing pain in his chest, he looks down and sees you, looking up at him before you slice again, crossing over your original cut.

The wound takes a moment to heal as you retreat to a safe distance, barely felt on his compass as he looks down.

"Aaahh." He grunts and the sound reverberates in your chest, "You crossed my heart."

He touches two fingers to the wound as it heals, wetting them in blood before he licks it away.

"Guess I'll fight for real now." He changes his stance and with it the air about him. The flowers wilt at his feet before it spreads like a blight. Killing everything in its path including withering some of the pre existing trees.

You have to attack now, before the sound at his heart clears all the way up, you need to send the tip of your blade back through his heart in order to paralyze him long enough to cut his handsome head clean from his shoulders.

If it was even enough time with how thick his skin and vertebrae are.

Swinging your blade down, a breath almost fully activated he reaches out with ungodly speed.

Grabbing onto your blade and he has the audacity to yawn. As if he's bored, snapping your katana in his vice grip before he shoves you into the closest tree and shoves the deep amethyst blade right through your shoulder. Pinning you like a delicate insect for display.

Your smell is even more enticing now, the heady metallic tang coating his tongue making him dizzy. His cock stirs again and he rushes for the wound. Pressing his nose just above it and inhaling deeply as you lean your head away from him. He laps at the blood, like a mistreated dog in the summer months finally finding solace in a half dried puddle. His fangs elongate and for the first time he's tasting the blood of a woman. Growling as he huffs over your throat before taking a deep bite.

"Heh." You smirk beside him, "Ya like that?"

It's a growl before you're shoving his face deeper into your wound, letting out a gasped breath as you activate your final form. Wisteria Bloom.

The poison makes quick work as you feel the grip of him failing before the bitterant of the poison coats the back of his throat. It gives him an inkling of a feeling. Of a piece so long forgotten as it burns up the nape of his neck, spreading through synapses with each pounding thought of his head.

"Poison?" He spits onto your clothes, "You did that to them?"

You aren't sure who he's talking about but you'll take credit for killing some vile demon if the taunt meant giving you the upper hand. But before you can his pupils flicker in and out as if his body were combating your deadly, delicious blood on pure rage alone. His black fingers sink into the flesh of your ribs, slowly pushing through the tender meat between the bones.

"You killed them? Poisoned the well?" He growls and your yelp is high pitched. It causes him to slow, to quickly retract his fingers from your frame and dig into his own forearm. The four fingers separated in the middle as he digs two thick and deep wounds on his forearm. The only area that isn't banded in the twilight ink.

His head pounds, louder and louder is the call of a woman's voice just at the fringes in his mind. A soft thing drifting through the veil she toed so easily in life.

Enough. ᴉɾnʞɐH

His ears ring and the pressure on his body is more than any he's felt from his master before. The very master who now slithers into his head, speaking over what can barely be comprehended in his drunken state.

Enough Akaza. There is a finality to it that makes his stomach clench, You hate the weak.

Revitalized, the poison slows but his lust for you doesn't. He claims it is the affect of your blood but he's on you again without so much as a second thought. Running his tongue over your wounds, gently pressing his fingers on the weeping wounds he made in your ribs.

"Are you alright, Moon flower?" His voice is soft and you swallow thickly, it makes your stomach flutter. A gentle press of his lips to each wound on your left side awakens something in you that you wish not to speak aloud. It causes heat to collect and pool between your thighs, as it does his senses heighten.

Repeating the action on the other side. Dark fingers ripping away the buttons at your front, tearing away and yet keeping your haroi intact aside from your own sword holding you in place.

"D-dont." You try to squirm out of his touch, the cool night air causing your nipples to peak.

"Oh shy now are we?" He smiles up at you, mouth smeared with your blood, the moonlight plays tricks on your eyes and it almost looks as if he were flushed.

As if his eyes were flickering between blue and amber. Dark twilight making room for the stars and moon before they return to a golden shine of the rising sun.

You feel dizzy yourself, mostly from the blood loss of so you say as he brings his mouth to your breast. Pulling your pebbled nipple with his teeth gently before giving a harsh suck. A breathy shine escapes you and when he looks up you freeze. Like a bunny seen on the forest floor by the grinning fox in the brush.

It's well known how that will end.

Just like this as he rises back to his full height, looming over you with that look. His hands finding your sides, gently squeezing your ribs in his massive grip making you feel so small.

"Do it moonflower, use a breath to heal these." As if under a spell you speak so softly.

"Y-yarrow's touch." White lace flowers blossom over your ribs and throat, slowly healing wounds not being kept open. The demon slaps his hand onto your throat over his bite wound.

"Not this one, Princess." Sinful velvet again and you concentrate elsewhere. Soon they are healed, skin barely discolored and the only sign you were ever wounded at all is the lingering lines of blood that the demon leans over to lick. Thick tongue pressed flat against your smooth skin to take in your sweet nectar.

A shiver runs down your spine, cunt clenching embarrassingly and again he looks up. That predatorial look shining in his eyes. He wipes away the blood, your blood and comes closer to you. Pressing his lips to yours with such a softness, such a need it makes you whimper.

He groans, licking your lips that you part for him. Tongue swiping, swirling over yours and when he pulls away for just a moment the two of you share a silvery string of spit. He groans, coming back for more when he smells that insanely sweet smell again that clouds his mind before he finally realizes what it is. Hand sinking down your front, paste the dark fabric of your pants and panties cupping your heat for just a moment. Feeling the weight of you here and his harder than he's ever been before. Slowly his middle finger parts your folds and when he feels a wetness to you he shudders.

"So wet." He presses himself into you further, nose over your bloody throat, "I've hardly done anything to you Princess."

"Or maybe…maybe you like fighting as foreplay huh?" He bites you again and the moan you let out is loud, long. Makes your face and throat heat as he sucks. Letting your blood flood his mouth and he groans with each swallow. Pressing harsh sloppy circles to your clit, mouth at your ear.

"'S that why you're a demon slayer moonflower?" He teases, gently nipping at your ear, "Wanna be corrupted and fucked by a big bad demon?"

You can't speak, can hardly breathe as he hovers in your personal space. Drowns you out with his scent. Smelling faintly of salt. He grabs onto your throat, squeezing so tightly your eyes flutter.

"Answer me. Tell me how you want to beg for my fat cock." He palms himself before he lets you go, fingers still pressing on your clit as you quake beneath him. Your vision blacks out and you let out the most beautiful, constricted moan he's ever heard.

"Is that a yes, pretty flower?" He pulls it from you again and again and again until his fingers are so soaked in your juices it drips from his wrist.

"Pl-please." You're so dizzy. So overstimulated as he has you reeling again. He leans close, pulling away his fingers from your clit and shoving them roughly into your spasming pussy. Angling them back towards him, lucky he found your sponge spot right away.

"Akaza." He breathes into your ear, "Now moan my name and I'll fill this angel cunt."

"Akah...I- can't." You pant, trying to desperately grind against him but his free hand slams your hips into the tree, cracking it even.

"You can and you will." He bites your throat again, worsening the wound and lapping at the blood, he feels dizzy. So drunk off of the smell of you, "Say it."

It's obvious in his tone that he wants to fuck you as badly as you want him. Lust and nothing short of delirium riddle your mind and swell your tongue.

"Akazaaahhh." You pant, your head resting on his heavily, "Please fuck me."

Without thought his voice changes, soft, endearing, protecting and filled to the brim with want.

Need.

As if it were you who were denying him.

"As you wish, princess." He slides himself into you with ease. Right to the hilt and he stays still. Savoring the feeling of you fluttering around him as you adjust to his size.

"M-move, p-please." Your head is spinning and the wound in your shoulder and bite marks pound in time with your cunt. Sick with want and need, for this demon to fill you up with sticky white, "Akaza."

"Anything for you." He moves slowly, setting a deep rut that has your head hitting the trunk of the tree. The pleasure is unimaginable, cresting in you with each steady roll of his hips. You've been fucked before but no where near like this, it felt different.

Like devotion.

Like he needed you to know what you did to him, how you make his heart pound and the way he's moving you, the way his hands touch at your body as if you were something to be marveled had your brain twisted.

Love sits on your tongue when it shouldn't, especially as he gently grabs onto your chin with on big palm. Fingers and thumb causing divots in your cheeks with no real malice as he forces you to hold his gaze.

"So pretty. So fucking pretty." He rasps, eyes deepening into twilight blue, hair turning jet black and where his self inflicted wounds were now twin bands of black ink on both forearms.

"Akaza?" Your voice is soft and suddenly the image is gone and he's back to how he looked before. Tattoos elsewhere on his skin, on his throat and face. Eyes a golden color as upper three stare back at you. He comes closer, swallows your moans with a kiss. Its hungry, deep, as if he's finally come home.

"What is it, Princess?" He asks after he breaks the kiss, "What do you need, let ᴉɾnʞɐH, take care of you."

But whatever name he uses doesn't come out right, it sounds blurred and fuzzy and it makes his free hand grip at the back of his neck so hard he draws blood. Pushing his fingers in knuckle deep as if trying to rip a parasite from his spinal cord.

"N-need you." You pant, hands coming up to class at this back, "Need you to fill me."

His cock twitches at that and whatever was bothering him fizzles out at the back of his head. He chases his own high as you continue to squeeze him so tightly he sees stars. His pace lacks structure as he sloppily thrusts into you. Painting your walls with white hot ropes. He says something so low. Three words but you can only make out.

"Princess." Like it's a sacred word, a song to be sung to the gods in worship, a sound that he makes seem as if it's only for you.

Slowly he pulls out and when he is without you he suddenly feels enraged. Anguish, head throbbing with such an intensity he falls to his knees.

"Where are you? Moon flower?" He begins to claw at his face, lost in some sunbleached illusion, "Princess? Where the fuck are you?"

You think you see fat tears fall down his cheeks before they are followed by thick ribbons of crimson.

Panic devours you whole and in your own hazed mind you pull the sword from your shoulder, feeling his pain well in your stomach as you rush to him.

"I'm here. I'm right here." You coo, wrapping your arms around him as you bend over to cradle his head. Quickly he wraps his arms around your waist while he stays on his knees burying his head into your legs. He gasps, fangs elongated but like a spell the smell of you placates him before globs of blood land on his shoulder.

He looks up at you shocked, your knees turning to jelly causing you to fall but he rises to catch you before you hit the ground holding you tightly to him that your bones groan from the force. Passing out with a final breath.

"Akaza."

You were a liability, a fucking problem as he slowly comes back to his senses. Unsure how this scene unfurled before him. How he ended up whispering so softly that he loved you as he fell into his own sweet abyss as you encouraged him with the sweet sounds of your mewls.

He should let you die.

He should kill you.

He knows he should.

It would be easy to just crush you together in his grip as you lie limp in his strong arms.

But instead he grabs the blade of your sword and the hilt, pushing you closer to him as he jumps from the clearing in the forest.

Bringing you back to God knows where.