#wouldn't need to be drunk either

[thedissociatives]

really hope someone ik throws a halloween party this year

[nezuscribe]

previous part

fake dating your childhood best friend (and person you've been in love with for just as long) gojo was as terrible and amazing as you thought it would be.

terrible because in private he still see's you as his best friend and plots on how to get with the girl of his dreams while trying to figure out how you and geto can become a pair.

it's awful. there's no sugar coating the emotional turmoil you're going through.

but in public? it's perfect.

when the two of you are out with friends gojo always makes sure to have one hand on you at all times. either on your knee, around your shoulder or waist, playing with the hem of your shirt. he plants soft kisses to your cheek or forehead when he thinks you can't see, pinches your nose in a loving manner.

other times when you're all hanging out gojo tells animated stories from over the years, sharing experiences you had totally forgotten and didn't realize he remembered. he played the part of a doting and loving boyfriend, you'd give him that much.

everybody cooes and says how perfect the two of you look together. gojo smiles, saying that he only looks perfect because you look perfect.

but you could see the longing glances he gave to suki, the way he'd watch her when he was so sure nobody else was looking. you could feel a bit of your heart sink, knowing that at the end of the day, you're the only one hurting yourself by lying to everybody around you, including gojo.

mind-fucking torture this is.

but sometimes, in brief moments, it feels like even he forgets what this is all for.

like that one time when you were telling him in private about your dating history, or lack thereof, you could've sworn he almost hadn't heard you properly with the look of utter shock at the confession.

okay, so yeah, maybe he does have a right to be a little shocked. it's not like you had been totally honest about this either, but who could blame you? when you were a teen gojo and geto were off on dates and flings and you felt left out, feeling the need to make up some white lies about going on little coffee dates or whatever. nothing big, nothing crazy. just so that they wouldn't think you were a total loser.

but over the years, you just never told him the truth, seeing no need. you were in college now, with no time to date, regardless. and sure, this confession slipped when you were insanely tired and needed something to fill the silence of the drive back home.

"what do you mean you've never been on a date? you've been o-on countless dates? like - like that one with the guy and his weird beard? or...or talkative tom?" he spews, bewildered, looking at you briefly before looking back to the road, his hand shifting on the steering wheel.

you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"not countless dates, just," you shrug, a little embarrassed, feeling heat climb to your cheeks for even bringing up this mortifying detail., feeling even worse knowing that you couldn't even blame this blunder on being drunk, you were just talkative, "when we were younger you and suguru were always going out 'n i felt...weird, i don't know," you stammer, shifting awkwardly in your seat as you confess.

"weird?" the word nearly sounds like a laugh and gasp in one, and your cheeks burn even more.

god, it would hurt less mentally if a wormhole opening up and ate you.

you smack his arm, your head falling into your hands as street lamps illuminated the side of your face as you begin rocking backwards in regret and shame. in moments like this you remembered how much of a nuisance he could really be, a little gnat in your ear.

gojo looks at you again, turning the street corner as he sighs, shaking his head.

he never wanted you to feel weird around him.

"i only made up those two, two, dates 'toru," you mutter, groaning out loud as your head thumped back on the headrest, the familiar row of homes coming into your line of vision as you prayed for this to end faster, "and you remembered both of them. that's not my fault."

gojo snorts, raising his hand as he shoves your head lightly.

"i remember everything you say," he says playfully, "the good, the bad and the ugly," he remarks, the car slowing down as he nears your house.

you look out the window, nearly ready to jump out as your hands fumble with the seatbelt. you're sure you've done enough damage for the week, probably even the month, but gojo doesn't seem to mind. in fact, you feel the warmth of his hand engulfing yours, stopping you from undoing your seatbelt and bolting.

you glance over at him, ready to smack his hand away, but the teasing look on his face has simmered a bit. simmered enough to remind you just how ridiculously good-looking he is with his bright eyes and rosy cheeks.

"look...i can't, in good conscious, be letting you walk around surviving on fake date stories," he says, putting a hand across his chest as if he were taking a vow.

isn't this just one big fake dating story? you almost say out loud.

"it's not 'gonna kill you," you tell him, maybe a little too harshly, "not like it's gonna kill me," you mutter the last part under your breath, looking away from his intense stare.

he purses his lip in annoyance, flicking your forehead as you groan in pain.

gojo pauses, taking a breath before he continues. your brow raises in curiosity.

"i'll pick you up tomorrow for a real date," he finally tells you.

there's another pause, your eyes searching his for the punchline. you give up after a few seconds of taking in his determined gaze, rolling your eyes as you unlock the passenger door, gathering your bag and things as you almost step out if not for him tugging you back in.

"i'm serious," gojo says, "six o' clock, wear something nice."

your brows furrow again.

"but," you laugh, startled, "but...we're not seeing anybody tomorrow? there's no need for a fake date if nobody can't see?"

gojo smiles, shrugging as his thumb rubs absentmindedly up and down your wrist.

"so?"

you look at him, waiting for him to finish that sentence.

"soooo," he drawls out, "so what? if my best friend hasn't been on a proper date, then i think it's only right i fix that. it's in my duties as the best friend and her new fake boyfriend."

there it is again.

you shake your head, and he can tell you're getting ready to come up with a reason as to why you can't go but he shushes you, shaking his head defiantly.

"done deal. six o' clock."

you stare at him.

"fine," he pretends to be annoyed, "i'll bring you something nice to wear too, i guess."

he's teasing you, not knowing that this was all you've ever wanted since you were a kid. fake or not, you try not to let reality slice your heart and serve it for tomorrow night's dinner.

try not to let the fact that fake dating gojo means that he's going to take you out, real or not.

[fixated-cookies]

Hear me out. . .

Smilk in heat

Given he is a beast, it wouldn't be surprising

prepare to not walk for the next month. I think his heat would last for 7 days, with it peaking on the third and fourth day. Seven days of sheer torment!! lets get into it

WARNING- smut

this is probably going to be more like an analysis

The First Day – The Craving starts

he’s still fighting it—barely. He paces, restless, trying to distract himself with his usual theatrics. But his movements are too sharp, too stiff, his voice lower, rougher, dripping with an unfamiliar desperation. He's rather clingy, refusing to leave your side, and wants your undivided attention. "Oh dear, come closer!" He won't let go of your hand

The Second Day – The Craving Deepens

His touch starts to linger. His fingers trail against your skin longer than usual, his gaze lingers too intently, his voice softer, almost—pleading. "Again," he murmurs, after yet another kiss. "One more." But one turns into two, then three, then—oh, you’ve lost count, haven’t you? He becomes drunk on your touches and kisses and his desires deepen more.

The third day - The beginning of the peak.

The moment you stir, his body will feverishly push against yours, forcing you to feel his aching cock against your leg. He'll nuzzle into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as if it's his version of oxygen. "You smell… divine." He growls into your ear. A longing that borders on madness. He turns you over to your back, with him climbing over you. His chest rises and falls with every ragged breath, his body burning. His fingers curl around your wrists, pinning them above your head. "it hurts," he admits, voice strained, forehead pressing against yours. "I need you."

The fourth day - The Ravaging

Shadow Milk is no longer just a Cookie. He is something else entirely. A beast, a creature of unrelenting hunger, and you—his sole fixation. There is no escape. Not from the hold of Shadow Milk, not from the way he keeps you close, pressed against every surface imaginable. The bed, the counter, the floor. You've lost count of how many times he's fucked you into a stupid stupor, even after countless breaks, he continues to drag you back into his arms. His cock carves deep into your soul and cunt, marking you up from the inside. "—you still have more to give, don’t you?" He growls. You can’t answer, barely able to form a coherent thought beyond the overwhelming heat surrounding you. But he knows. Oh, he knows.

The fifth day- Utter ruin

The moment you wake, you realize something is wrong—or rather, everything feels wrong. Your body is heavy, sore, utterly exhausted. The slightest shift has your legs trembling, casting out a whimper you feel his fingers trace down your spine. There are countless marks on your neck, tummy, and thighs. His touch is possessive, a silent reminder that he’s nowhere near finished with you yet. Every time you think he’s finally satisfied, that maybe—maybe—he’s done, you can only feel his throbbing cock push back inside your ruined hole. His voice is hoarse from growling your name, from panting against your skin. The world outside his Spire has long since ceased to exist. The sixth day- the aftershock

The madness has started to fade, but his grip on you hasn't loosened in the slightest.He isn’t ravaging you anymore, but he won’t let go either as he's wrapped around you. His touch is different now. No longer desperate, no longer driven by pure instinct. Instead, it’s reverent, almost… tender. The sex on this day will be slow and soft, plenty of kisses and soft sighs that are full of praises. “You did so well,” he gifts so pecks of love and adoration onto your temple. His heat is finally cooling, but his obsession? That has not waned.

The seventh day- the aftercare

The beast has been tamed, at least for now. Expect him to dote on you excessively, his usual mocking, theatrical persona stripped away for fleeting moments of raw affection. He traces every mark he’s left behind, humming in satisfaction, whispering sweet nothings laced with self-satisfaction. "Poor, poor thing… did I overdo it?" He mumbles into the crook of your neck, massaging your tender muscles. A long and relaxing bath is in due.

[happy74827]

Feels Like Home

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You decide to take it upon yourself to become best friends with Wade’s new grumpy addition to the family (much to Logan’s dismay).

WC: 2453

Category: Fluff, Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Logan trope {TW: Bar Fight, Handsy Drunk Dude, Mentions of Blood + Bruising}.

[Dedicated to: @iluvloganhowlett] I finished it for you!! (I’m shocked at the speed too don’t worry 💀). Hopefully this fluffiness will help add onto the low supply out there.

And incase anyone hasn’t seen it yet: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

『••✎••』

You’ve always had a keen eye when it came to others. It’s mostly why you and Wade get along so well; you’re the one person who can see straight through him. And while it means you are very close, it also meant that you can easily tell when something is going on with someone you don't know that well, like the tall, brooding man named Logan, who had just joined the club of misfits.

You could tell by the way he carried himself that he had been through hell and back. He was quiet, grumpy, and had a tendency to snap at Wade, which, most of the time, was a well-deserved snapping.

You could also tell that there was more to him. He wasn't just a grumpy guy; there was something about him that made you want to be his friend. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was how lonely he looked.

Either way, you knew he was in need of a good friend, and you wanted to be that friend. Not a pestering one like Wade, but the kind of friend that just makes you feel a bit better.

So, when you spotted him, downing glass after glass of whiskey for the third day in a row, you just knew you had to help.

And he hated it. Oh, man, he absolutely hated it. You were such a happy ray of sunshine, always smiling, always laughing. He found it so fucking annoying. He couldn't deal with you and your constant positivity. It was like you were the PG-13 version of the breathing ballsack next to you.

But you wouldn't give up. Every time you saw him, you would try to cheer him up by making silly jokes, giving him small gifts, or even just sending him encouraging smiles.

He didn't want any of it, but it seemed you were too stubborn to listen. Every small note you’d given him was left crinkled in the trash; every gift was placed away without ever being touched. Your smile never got a response.

That is, until one day, as you walked by him, he mumbled something that almost made you trip over.

"Thanks."

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face. You had tried so hard to cheer him up for the past few weeks, and this was the only thing you got from him? You couldn't believe it.

You had spent so much time and effort trying to make him feel better, and this was all he could say to you?

You wanted to hug him. To scream to the skies and celebrate that he finally accepted your kindness.

You held the restraint to do so, though. You didn’t want to cause him to close off again, and so instead, you sent him a soft smile, and a small nod, before you resumed walking (running) to your friends.

The next day, however, you were met with the biggest surprise of your life.

Logan was sitting at the bar, drinking. He didn't look too different, still dressed in his trademark blue jeans and flannel shirt, but his face was still holding that sadness you had grown used to seeing on him.

You walked over to him and sat down beside him, that classic smile of yours plastered on your face.

"Hi!"

He groaned. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Nope!" You replied cheerfully, popping the 'p.'

He grumbled under his breath and downed the last of his drink, signaling to the bartender for another.

"Come on, Wolvie," you said, nudging his shoulder. "Lighten up. Life's not that bad, is it?"

He turned to glare at you, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours. "It's Logan," he said, his voice a low growl.

You shrugged and leaned closer to him, propping your elbow on the counter. This was the usual part—the part where he would give vocal responses while you carried on your one-sided conversation with him.

The difference this time, the surprise of it all, was when a person approached the both of you. Mind you, a very drunk person.

"Heyyyyy, baby girl," he slurred, his hand landing on your shoulder.

You turned to him, and he was looking you up and down with that gaze you knew had only one intention. You still smiled, though, and politely moved his hand off your shoulder.

"Uh, hi?" You answered unsurely.

He slammed his elbow on the counter, his palm on his fist. "You are gorgeous," he commented, and you had to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in your throat.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you paid him no mind. Usual behavior from him, nothing new.

"No, really," the stranger continued, moving his arm around your shoulders, "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," you answered, still chuckling. "But, I think you're a little drunk."

"Drunk on love," he responded, "Say, wanna get out of here? I'll show you a real good time."

Here comes the awkward part, you thought.

You shook your head, and removed his arm from around your shoulders. "Thank you for… uh, the kind offer," you answered, "But, no, thank you."

You expected him to shrug it off and leave or to just be a dick, as many drunken guys are. But no, this guy did not know how to take a hint.

Instead, he tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer to him, his free hand moving down your waist. "Come on, baby," he said, his words slurring. "You know you want to."

You sighed. You were really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this.

You were about to speak, to politely, yet firmly, tell him to leave you alone, but before you could open your mouth, a gruff voice beat you to it.

"She said no,"

He didn’t even look at the man or you. His eyes were still fixated on the counter as if he was talking to his glass, but he had turned his head a bit to the side so that you could hear him clearly.

The drunk stranger was startled by the sudden intervention. He let go of you and looked over at Logan, confusion clear in his face.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"Does it matter?" Logan grumbled.

"Yeah, it does," the stranger retorted, his slurring voice suddenly getting serious. "If I'm gonna be having fun, I don't want an audience."

Oh, how you hated confrontations.

Logan just scoffed with a slight hint of a smile, shaking his head as he still refused to turn around.

"Trust me, pal," he replied, "I ain't interested in watching you do anything."

"Good." He went back to his obnoxious grin, now directing his attention back to you. Oh, man, he was an eyesore.

"So, how about it, beautiful? Wanna head somewhere else?" He slurred.

You were about to reply, again, with a polite rejection, but your shoulder was being grabbed at again, and if it wasn’t for the small training session that Colossus had put you through, you were sure you would have lost your footing.

"Can you let go of me, please?" You asked politely, but the man was a brick wall.

"Nah, sweetheart," he shook his head, and the movement was so intense, you could almost hear the alcohol sloshing around in his head, "You're comin' with me. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly taken care of."

That was when the sound of glass slamming against the counter reached your ears, and you didn't have to see the source of the sound to know it was Mr. Grumps.

What you struggled for what seemed like an eternity, he took that needy arm away from your shoulders within a fraction of a second. It was almost shocking how quick he was, but then again, you knew what he was capable of.

With you safe against the counter, Logan turned to face the stranger, his face still showing that same neutral expression as before, though his eyes held an intensity that made the man flinch.

Normal people would believe he had the patience of a saint. But you weren’t a normal person. You knew this was dangerously close to making him lose it.

"Uh, Logan… maybe we should—"

But your words fell on deaf ears. The only thing that Logan could hear was the weak excuses the guy was trying to give as he tried to pull his hand from the tight grasp Logan had it in.

"Hey, man," he stuttered, his words slurring as the panic set in, "What’s your problem? Let go of me!

But Logan had no intentions of doing so. He held the stranger's arm firmly, his grip growing tighter until he could hear a small crack coming from the guy's bones.

"What's your damage, huh?" the guy continued, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking. "It's just a little fun, right, baby?"

You cringed as his eyes fell back onto you, and the pleading tone of his voice was beginning to make your skin crawl.

"Look, uh," you started, looking anywhere but his eyes, "I don't think—"

"Listen," the man continued, and your eyes fell shut. God, he was just not going to stop. "Maybe you can join us? Huh, big boy? That’s what it is, right? You want her all for yourself?"

Uh, oh.

"Logan, don’t—"

It was too late. He had already snapped, and with a grunt, he pulled the man closer to him, his other hand forming a fist around his shirt.

"Wanna say that again?" He growled. "Do it. I dare you."

The man was trembling in his grasp, but he was clearly too drunk to understand the danger he was in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you her boyfriend?" He taunted, and the fact that he had the guts to do so while his hand was in a painful hold was astonishing, even for you. "Or are you just some guy with a crush? Cause, honestly, it's pretty pathetic. You can't even ask her out."

His words had Logan seeing red, and before you could do anything, the guy was pushed away and was about to be on the receiving end of one of the strongest punches you've ever seen.

So, riskily, to protect yourself and him from being thrown out of his favorite place, you jumped off the stool and slid in between them as he launched his punch, just stopping inches away from your face.

"Please," you said, your palms up and in front of you, as if that would do anything to stop the rage he was feeling, "Please, calm down."

"Calm down?" He repeated, his voice rising. "Are you kidding me?"

"You need to let it go," you told him. "He's drunk, Logan. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"And, what," he retorted, his anger slowly fading away, "Does it look like I give a single fuck about that?"

You sighed, your eyes meeting his, and that was enough for him to finally give in. His clenched fist dropped, and he released a frustrated sigh.

The dude behind you started laughing, his voice sounding as if he was trying to make fun of a fight scene.

"So," he chuckled, "That's it, huh? You're not gonna do shit? You’re just as pathetic as a—"

He gently moved you aside, and in an instant, the man was lying on the floor with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a few broken ribs.

You could only hold your head in your hands, knowing very well the mess you were about to have to deal with.

And it didn't take long.

As soon as Logan stepped away from the drunk idiot, security was on him, grabbing his arms and restraining him. He couldn’t care less, though, as he held a sadistic grin on his face, pleased with his work while being escorted out.

And, so, there, the two of you were on the steps of the apartment building. You, holding your hands in your lap, and he, staring up at the night sky.

The air was warm, the city lights were dim, and the sky was covered in clouds. There was an odd silence between the two of you, which wasn’t really all that odd, but the events of the night had changed the atmosphere.

"Thanks," you spoke, breaking the quiet. "For, you know, standing up for me."

"He was a douche," he stated, his voice gruff. "Someone had to send that fucktart crying home to mommy."

"You shouldn’t have done that, though," you told him. "Now, you’re probably banned from the bar. I know it's your favorite."

"Eh," he shrugged, "Booze is booze. There are plenty more places to get drunk."

You didn't respond. Instead, you focused your attention on the small bugs flying around the dim light next to the door.

"You shouldn't be thanking me, anyway," he continued, turning to you. That was new. "I should be the one thanking you."

You looked at him, your brows furrowed. This whole conversation was getting weird. "Uh, what for?" You asked, confused.

"For putting up with me," he replied, shrugging.

"Putting up with you?" You repeated, not understanding. "I don't understand."

"Y'know," he continued, his gruff voice a little less gruff. "Sticking around. Being friendly. Having… patience. I can be…I can be a real dick. Honestly, I still don't get why you keep trying."

The smile that found its way to your lips waa the most genuine one he's ever seen. Your eyes were full of kindness and understanding, and your lips, which usually held a grin or a smirk, were turned upwards in a soft, gentle smile.

"Logan," you said, your voice low. "You may be a grump, and you might not be the friendliest guy, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve kindness. Everyone deserves that… or at least a little bit of it."

He scoffed. "That's funny," he replied, turning his head away.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head, confused. "What is?" You asked.

"I used to think," he began, "That no one would ever look at me in the way you do. Not after what I’ve done… not after what I am."

"You're a good man, Logan," you told him. "You proved who you were when you willingly helped Wade."

"Maybe," he sighed, his gaze meeting yours. "But, there's still a lot you don't know about me. I'm not exactly a knight in shining armor."

"Oh, my dear, Wolvie," you said playfully, leaning closer to him and placing your palm on his shoulder, "You never were."

[lordcryosrealmoftrash]

The thing that makes Yor Forger an amazingly written female character isn't that she has strengths and weaknesses. It's that her strengths and weaknesses are complex, varied, and just so human. Like I feel like people think that to write a "girl boss empowerment" character, she needs to be great at everything or that she needs to be one thing or the other. Like she has to either be strong and smart or gentle and motherly.

Meanwhile, there's Yor. She actively struggles to assist her first grader with homework and can't cook, yet she is incredibly knowledgeable about biology because of her side gig and can make one heck of a stew. She can perform inhuman feats of strength and parkour her way across a city, yet she's a total lightweight and loses almost all her coordination when drunk. Speaking of being lightweight, despite that, she is immune to many poisons. She can't handle more than a glass and a half of chardonnay, but pufferfish poison feels like nothing more than advil to her. She struggles to socialize and sees herself as a poor candidate to be a mother, yet she is the only member of her family actually getting close to Twilight's target because of her kindness. Also, while Twilight/Loid can look and act like a picture-perfect father, it's Yor that actually knows how to raise a child and how to talk to children. Without her, Loid would be screwed.

Yor, despite being a paid killer, is the humanity of her family. Anya is a child who, even with the ability to read minds, knows so little of the world, Loid is a spy who prides himself on his ability to disguise himself among civilians but hasn't actually known what it's like to be one since he was a child, and Bond is a dog, a future seeing dog, but still a dog. Yor for all her social awkwardness is what truly sells the Forger family. With any other woman, the Forgers wouldn't work because there would always be a strange sense of uncanny valley around them. Too perfect father, a child who knows everything but understands nothing. It's only Yor that makes it all click. A slightly ditzy yet weirdly ominous maternal figure.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[tsukii0002]

Levi: Mc we need your help.

Mc: What's wrong?

Levi: Lucifer is sick!

Mc and Levi run out to the studio where Beel is holding a Lucifer who looks very feverish, and with the other brothers clearly worried.

Mc: !!! Satan, Belphie, What did you do now????

Belphie: Nothing!

Satan: Not this time!

Lucifer: Mc?

Mc: Lucifer, how are you feeling *approaching and holding his face* ?

Lucifer: *smiling in the sweetest possible way* You're here, you don't know how much I wanted to see you.

Mc: … Have you been drinking ?

Mammon: We have checked the whole studio and there is no trace of Demonus.

Asmo: It doesn't smell of alcohol either.

Lucifer: *laughing as if he was drunk* You are so important to me… I wouldn't know how to live without you

Mc: …

The brothers: *face of horror*

Lucifer: And my brothers… without them I would have no reason to live…

All: …

Mc: HE'S DYING!!! CALL A DOCTOR!!!!

Levi: He is really sick!!!

Satan: Contact Lord Diavolo, I don't know how much time he has left!!!!

Mammon: He's going to the other side!!

Beel: *with tears in his eyes* Lucifer, you can't leave yet!

Belphie: Lucifer don't go to the light! , don't go to the light!!!

Asmo: Mc do something!!!

Lucifer: I really love all of you...

All: AHHHHH!!!

Panic breaks out in the House of Lamentations.

.

.

Lucifer only had a fatigue fever, but for him to express his feelings as they are? suspicious 😂

.

.

[cherrygirlfriend]

── SHARING HOODIES ♡

♡ pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader

♡ summary: rafe comes to get you from a party.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff! somewhat nsfw, nudity, annoying m*n.

♡ author's note: inspired by @tinythebunni ‘s request for a reader who wears something skimpy and needs to borrow rafe’s clothes. i hope you like this!! <3 check this if you want to see what she’d wear to a party!

PERV MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

"aw, come on rafe!" elijah's voice groaned in rafe's headset, "you suck ass tonight, man. what's the problem?" rafe rolled his eyes as he queued his group for another game, "it's cause his little girlfriend isn't there to support him under the desk." josh snickered.

"shut the hell up, josh." rafe spoke with slight irritation, "at least i have a girlfriend. your longest relationship has been with your right hand." "that's where you're wrong, buddy. i'm a leftie."

they soon started a new game, but when they were halfway through the second round, rafe saw his phone screen start to flash on his desk with an incoming call, the screen displaying your name and a heart after it. rafe was quick to mute his mic and place his headset onto the desk, pressing the green button and putting you on speakerphone as he continued playing. "everything alright?"

"hiiii pumpkin pieeee!" you giggled on the phone, music blasting in the background along with the chatter of other people. rafe chuckled softly; he had known that you'd be going to a party tonight; after all, you'd gotten ready in his room and had tried to convince him to come with you.

"hey, lovebug. i take it you're drunk?" "nooo, i'm just a liiiittle tipsy." you said, and rafe could hear you slurp up a drink and swallow after finishing your sentence, "i'm sure, i'm sure."

"can you come n get me?" you slurred, "'m tired n can't... can't, uh, remember where my dorm is..." "yeah, of course. you're at sigma nu, right?" "mmhm..." "okay, i'll be there in fifteen. go find some water and one of your friends. got it?" "yessir." you snorted, and he hung up the phone and put his headset back on, unmuting himself.

"listen, guys, i'm gonna have to quit." rafe explained as he closed the game mid-match. "what? why the hell?" elijah questioned, "my girl called and asked me to come get her from a party." "damn, i thought it was bros before hoes." josh snarked.

"yeah, well, we're not fifteen anymore. and she's not a hoe, she's my girlfriend. i'll message you guys later." rafe didn't even wait for them to reply, getting off the call and turning off his computer before either boy could utter a syllable. the boy grabbed his things and pulled on his hoodie, quickly rushing out of his dorm.

as soon rafe was outside, he dialed your number, his shoes crunching against the gravel as he walked towards the location of the fraternity you'd told him you were at, but no matter how many rings he waited, you didn't answer.

rafe ran a hand through his sandy hair, hanging up and calling you again. ring, ring, ring, ring, ring... once again, no answer. he bit the inside of his cheek, picking up his pace as he once again tried calling you, to no avail.

once the fraternity house came to view, rafe pocketed his phone, the boom of the bass piercing through his eardrums as soon as he entered the building.

rafe wasn't like you. while you thrived in these environments, huge parties where there were people every corner you turned, floors sticky with booze and other liquids, one sweaty young adult pressing against another, smoke that smelled like cotton candy, music so loud it'd damage anyone's hearing in the long term… rafe had always hated parties.

however rafe's height was an advantage; at 6'2, he was among the tallest at the party, and he hoped it wouldn't be too hard to spot you, his heart beginning to race from worry; what if something had happened to you?

he walked around the living room and even tried calling out your name, but the music booming in the stereos obviously was loud enough to drown out every squeak of his voice, but as he looked around, he didn't seem to spot you.

rafe pulled out his phone and dialed your number once again and kept searching through the living room for anyone who looked familiar, almost unable to hear the rings that signified an outgoing call over the noise of the TOP 50 playlist currently playing.

he went back into the lobby, but just as rafe was about to start really panicking, he saw a familiar figure through the wide archway leading to the kitchen, wearing the same outfit you'd shown off for him in an attempt to convince him to come with you. but his relief was shortlived when he saw the way you were swaying on your feet, the glassiness in your eyes made more pronounced by the fluorescent light above you, rafe's jaw clenching almost out of reflex when he saw the guy chatting you up, his hand on your bare arm. rafe took a deep breath as he made his way to the kitchen, beelining straight to you.

"are you okay?" rafe leaned down slightly to look into your glassy eyes, tugging the stranger's hand off you in a less-than friendly manner. "hey dude, i was here first. go find some other chick." the stranger scoffed, making rafe straighten up and look at him in irritation, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

"hey dude, keep your hands off girls who are too drunk to even stand properly. this is my girlfriend." "that's your girlfriend?" the stranger let out something between an incredulous scoff and a snort, while rafe simply ignored him, more worried about you. "buggy, are you okay?" he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"you came." you smiled up at him softly, letting yourself practically crash into your boyfriend's side, "this douche is bothering me..." you mumbled, making rafe chuckle softly as he snaked his arm around you. the other guy simply rolled his eyes and mumbled some insult under his breath as he started walking away. "let's get you home, yeah?" rafe wasn't even sure if you heard what he was saying, but you simply smiled and nodded nonetheless.

rafe's arm was tightly wrapped around you as he led you out of the loud frat house and into the cool night air, starting to walk back towards the dormitories. he was too focused on trying to get you back to the dorms to notice the way your teeth were starting to chatter and the way your skin was forming goosebumps until you let out a quiet mumble, "rafeyyy... 'm cold..."

his eyes widened as he looked down at you, clad only in a top and a miniskirt. rafe sighed as he detached from you, a childish whine leaving your lips, thinking he did it because he didn't want to hold onto you anymore. rafe's t-shirt rode up slightly and his hair got messed up when he took off his snoopy-themed hoodie, turning to you, "lift your arms up, buggy."

you did as he said, and your boyfriend pulled the hoodie onto you, basically having to guide your arms into the arm holes of the hoodie, but when you finally had the hoodie on, rafe let out a small chuckle as he looked you up and down. for some reason, seeing you wearing his clothes always managed to make your boyfriend's heart race like crazy, even if it was something as silly as a snoopy hoodie.

"what's so funny?" you pouted, the hood still over your head, "nothing." he shrugged, wrapping his arm around you once again and starting to lead you towards the dorms, "it's just that... the hoodie is longer than your skirt."

"it's your fault for being freakishly tall, you damn beanstalk." you mumbled as you leaned into him. "or your skirts are freakishly short..." "prude." you stuck your tongue out at him, "acting like you weren't admiring the way i looked in this before i left." rafe felt his cheeks warm at your words, letting out an incredulous scoff as you simply giggled as he continued leading you towards the dormitory.

after about ten minutes of you wobbling and putting most of your weight on the side that was pressed against rafe, the two of you finally arrived at the boys' dormitory, "alright, try and be quiet." rafe said to you, rubbing his hand up and down your hoodie-clad arm. you simply responded by bringing your pointer finger to your lips and hushing, rafe unable to help the small smile on his face from how adorable he found it.

once you got to rafe's room, your boyfriend helped you to his bed where you immediately collapsed onto the mattress, letting out a moan of relief, making rafe feel slightly ashamed for the stirring he felt in his pants. he cleared his throat as he walked to the bed, "baby, you should take your clothes off first." "can't you do it…?" you mumbled, "are you sure?" "'s not the first time you've seen me naked, rafe."

rafe started with your heels, carefully peeling them from your feet, pressing a few kisses on each leg as he removed them. then he moved up onto the bed, lifting the hem of the hoodie as his long fingers slowly pulled down the zipper on your skirt, shimmying the fabric off, slight indents left on your stomach. rafe pressed soft kisses on each of your thighs, soft hums leaving your lips. "lift your arms up, love." he mumbled softly, and you did as he said; at once rafe pulled the hoodie off along with your top, throwing them onto the floor.

rafe trailed warm kisses leading from the waistband of your panties up to the underwire of your bra, before pulling back, "can i take this off?" he asked softly, and you nodded. rafe's hands slowly slid from the front of your bra to the back, until he found the clasp. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when you felt the clasp come free, allowing rafe to slide the straps down your arms and discard your bra.

rafe's hands softly massaged the indents of the underwire, pulling a sigh of relief from you, "do you want to borrow a shirt from me to sleep in?" he asked softly, but you shook your head and spoke softly, "can we just sleep like this? both of us?"

rafe's cheeks reddened slightly, but he nodded and tugged his shirt off, throwing it amongst your clothing. he then continued on to pull down the waistband of his sweats, kicking them off onto the floor and settling into bed.

you pulled the covers over both your heads with a quiet, mischievous chuckle, looking into his eyes, "does my breath stink?" "like a brewery." rafe said softly, and despite his words, he still brought his lips to yours, your bare chest pressed against his, rafe's hand sliding down to your back.

as he pulled away from the kiss, rafe trailed his finger up and down your spine, goosebumps forming on your sensitive skin. you nuzzled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his chest on your face, the two of you whispering sweet nothings to one another under the blanket, soft, drunken giggles escaping the little bubble you'd created.

"rafe...?" you mumbled quietly, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second, "yeah?" he answered, his fingertips still tracing your spine, "thank you for coming to get me..." at your words, rafe let out a quiet huff of a laughter against your shoulder.

"you never need to thank me for something like that. if you call me, i'll come."

TAGLIST: @raahosh @nemesyaaa @purpleplumpudding @littlelamy @dollyfiles @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @nonietosay @my-name-is-baby @tinythebunni @fratbrochrisgf @ariieeesworld @izumis-salty-penis @cameronsbabydoll

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Combat trained reader (fellow vigilante, ex-hydra experiment, whatever) who, sometimes, when Matt needs to blow off steam, will coerce him into a "friendly" sparring match- and whoever wins gets to be in charge. Sometimes it's reader, who spends the night getting matt absolutely pussy drunk, just begging to get you off one more time, whining and pleading when he can manage to put words together. Sometimes it's matt who absolutely manhandles you, needing to be touching as much as possible- hard and demanding until the noise in his head quiets and hones in on just you.

a/n: i INSTANTLY thought of that moment when you sent me this request... oh boy... what I wouldn't give to be nestled in between those thighs...

word count: 1502

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“What? No. Why would you even suggest something like that?”

“Because, we both know it’s a sure-fire way for you to blow off some steam,” you exhaled before cocking your head, “well, that and something else…”

“Sweetheart–,” Matt went on, though when his lips parted once again, your fist was already soaring through the air. Narrowly dodging the throw, he swiftly exclaimed, “hey!”

“Just get out of your head, Matty,” you raised up both your fists, although the stubborn beast before you still stood his ground.

“I’m not gonna fight you,” he refused.

“What, you scared you can’t take me on?” you tried to egg him on, though only caused him to let out a sigh, “come on, it’s just some friendly sparring.”

His fingers briefly floated up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he then pointed out, “you do know that I could just put on my mask and hit the streets if I wanted to brawl, right?”

“You could,” you tilted your head, “but then you wouldn’t be able to immediately follow it up with the only other method that works at getting you to calm down,” a smirk twitched on your lips before you threw another punch, though this time the vigilante was faster and caught onto your arm as he blocked your attempt. Spinning you around, Matt then pinned your back to his chest, making the smile on your lips only widen, “my suggestion is that if you win, then I will do anything you want me to for the rest of the night…” you slowly guided one of his palms down over your frame, gliding it across your covered boobs to get your point across.

“And if you win?” his low voice tickled the shell of your ear.

Dragging his hand further south, you swiftly cupped his touch against your clothed core as you uttered, “then I get to have you whatever way I want…”

Slipping out of his hold just as the touch of your haven caused him to lower his guard, you then whirled around and attempted to kick him, although he dodged once again.

He was hesitant at first, reluctant while you kept on begging him to let go, reminding him of how you could take it, assuring him that he didn’t have to pull his punches. But even so, it took a while before he finally snapped and began to fight back.

However, eventually when you found yourself pinned to the ground with his weight atop of you, when all hope seemed lost, you managed to turn the tides by teasing him, tilting your head up till your lips nearly met, and just as the pending kiss sank into his soul, you flipped him around and straddled his hips.

As you caught his hands and planted them on the floor above his head, a low exhale flowed from his lungs at your victory, “you fucking cheater…”

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” you teased before leaning down to actually kiss him.

And as your fingers stayed enveloped around his wrists, you heard him murmur against your lips, “best out of three?”

“Nice try,” you chuckled as you let the tip of your nose ghost against his own, “but how about you instead just make me cum three times.”

And that’s how you ended up first sitting on his face, with the comfort of your soft thighs trembling on either side of his skull. You remained there till you had him begging to let you cum with something other than his tongue.

As you sank down upon him and his torso rose off the floor, sitting up to be adjacent to you, the manner in which you rode him at times felt more like you were just hugging him. Your pace was slow and gentle as you bounced in his lap, your arms tangled firmly around his frame so that it wasn’t just your cunt that embraced him tight.

“Alright,” you sighed as you rose from the couch, “get up,” you gestured exhaustedly to Matt in the armchair across from you, “come on, up.”

Fume was essentially puffing out of his ears at this point, as if he were a kettle about to start whistling. Slowly, he rose with a sigh, exchanging no further words as you first crossed an arm over your chest to stretch out your shoulder, warming up just ever so slightly before you then lunged at him.

You half expected him to be hesitant this time as well, but just as you tackled him and encouraging words nearly flowed from your lips, he suddenly began to fight back.

Bumping into furniture, a lamp was knocked to the floor from the tornado of your wrestling, though none of the mess managed to put a pause to either of your efforts.

And when the apartment was a mess around you both and you were rolling across the floor, Matthew managed to get a few decent hits in as he lost himself to the scuffle, clocking you across the jaw just hard enough to make your bells ring and grant him the opening to whirl you around, slotting himself in behind you on the floor, and tangling his legs around your head.

With his thighs persistent and flexing against the sides of your neck, the rest of his long legs curved over the rest of your torso, keeping your wiggling at a minimum. The pressure stayed fast as you stubbornly scrambled your brain for a way out of the hold, but just as your lights began to dim, your palm finally shot up to tap against the thick tree trunk of his thigh.

As he unfurled you from the hold, coughs cut up your panting a moment as you waited for your balance to come back to you.

“Well…” you soon uttered breathlessly as fair was fair, “how do you want me, Matty?”

Chest still heaving, his words came out as a whisper as he then murmured, “come here,” before he then grabbed ahold of you and pulled you in for a kiss.

His hands were scorching across your form as he soon plucked you up into his arms and carried you with him as he got up and began to march into the bedroom.

Dropping you down to kneel on the edge of the bed, his grip stayed rooted in the hair on the nape of your neck, fingers close to the roots as he withdrew from the fevered kiss and kept your face dangerously close to his own.

“Take this off,” he commanded in a gravelly tone, faintly gesturing to your clothing as you shared his hot breath. And once you’d scrambled to fulfil his wish, scatting your clothes to the floor, he then hazily pointed to his own attire and added breathlessly, “this too...”

It wasn’t till he was nude as well that he finally lightened his grasp in your hair and let you kiss him once again.

Growling against your lips, his fingers soon swept around to grab your jaw, though when his touch slid across your blossoming bruise, a small wince couldn’t help but rush out of your lungs.

“Are you okay?” he instantly pulled back, pausing for a second.

“Yeah, I’m good, promise,” you uttered, confident that you weren’t the only one who’d be sore in the morning after that little match, “now,” you smiled and attempted to shift his focus back upon the matters at hand, “what else do you want me to do? Let me make you feel good, baby.”

And as the corners of your lips curled up, Matt soon mirrored the expression, grinning back at you before he playfully tossed you back onto the bed.

Shadowing you onto the mattress, your feet were up by his face as he then seized your head, and grunted, “open your fucking mouth...” before muffling your whimpers on his cock.

Slobber dribbled out of the corners of your stretched lips and leaked down over his heavy sack as he held your skull with both of his hands, bobbing your head up and down like a fleshlight for him to get off with.

And as he layed back more to rest on the pillows behind him, just as his fingers began to fade from your hair, his legs instead took their place, tangling up around your head and pushing you further down upon his fat dick.

Gagging gently around him, he began to fuck your throat, though kept his strong legs locked around your skull, keeping you down, as his hips below your nose began to move, twisting up and sloppily thrusting deeper into the warmth of your mouth till your brain turned into mush.

He then twisted a bit as one of his hands shot out to split your legs further apart, making room for his touch and he swiftly sought out that little pearl, swirling it under the rough pads of his fingers till your moans vibrated around his cock in your throat.

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[zlut4rina]

One shot/imagine request: Backshots w/ g!p Karina… anywhere anytime she’s just ready to bed you over🙏😋

And if I said blue collar karina ? Yea.

Pairings: G!p!Karina x Femreader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, smut man idk

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She comes home from her mechanic job, all dirty and sweaty, but it doesn't matter to her. Coming home and seeing her beautiful girl, she just has to get her hands on you. She's had a rough day, too. You wouldn't let her suffer all night, would you?

She's throwing all her stuff down at the door. And when you go to greet her with a hug and kiss, she's picking you up, turning you around and bending you over the back of the couch. Pulling whatever you had on, off. Not caring for a blow job right now so she spits on her hand and cock and starts stroking it a little. Once she feels like she's done enough she's shoving her entire length into your tight pussy. Letting out a long growl like groan as she's fucking into you like a stupid pussy drunk loser. You don't complain, you can't complain. You have no right to when she goes out and does all the work. It's only right for you to give up your body for her. Letting her use you, however, or whenever, nit just when she's off work either.

Even when you decided to wake up extra early to pack her lunch for the long, hard day she was about to experience. She's coming up from behind and rubbing her bulge against your ass, and of course, you bend over for her! You just have to! She's rubbing her length between your thighs, up against your dripping panties. She pulls them to the side and just starts fucking you so hard against the counter. You try your best to complete her lunch, but it's so hard to when she's just so deep. She takes notice and tells you to finish up, saying you don't want her to go hungry, do you? Of course you don't! Trying to make her meal as clean as possible while your body rocks at an obscene pace. Finally finished and packed, she takes you down to the cold hard floor and ruts into you like like a dog, not caring if she'll be late or not, she just need to breed you so bad. You take her so well she just has to show her appreciation to how well you treat her too.

Oh my glob, shower sex with her ?!? She's had such a rough and hard day at work that she comes home dirtier than usual. She even has a slight odor to her from all the oil and gunk she dealt with. Taking the initiative you offer to help her bathe. Starting a warm shower for her. It starts with you washing her back and arms so innocently, then the second you bend over to pick up something you dropped, she's pushing you against the wall. Tweaking at your nipples while she rubs her length between your thighs. She then starts pounding you like she's never had pussy before. The sounds of wet sloppy sex was like a cursed song. Your moans mixing with her low grunts and groans was like a sadistic harmony. The sound of wet skin slapping collided with the sound of water still violently pouring on her back and floor. Filling you up with her cream while whispering thank yous in your ear.

She's so strong to omg, anytime you're done sucking her off, she's bending you over, pulling you hips up as high as she can. She's so strong, too. Her grip is so rough, and she doesn't even mean it 'sometimes'. Leaving marks and bruises on your hips from how strong She's holding you, and marks on your ass from how aggressive and rough she was spanking you. And if I say she likes to record, too? Just for when she's needy at work and you're not responding to her horny, needy, messages. She goes back to the video you recorded last night. It's of you bent over on her bed in the dark with only her flash on your body. Capturing how her long hard dick was going in and out of you, both of your loud moans, and the slapping of wet soaked flesh was all that could be heard. A few quiet praises and curses from karina too.

Ugh she literally loves cumming on your back too. She does it to make you mad cause she didn't cun inside you or just because she likes the way her mess glisten on your back. Watching it drip down from the crevice of your back onto your stomach or whatever is below you.

___________________________________________

Need her sb 🥀💔

[onlyhyunjin]

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)

MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)

JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)

LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)

BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)

COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)

IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)

FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)

TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)

RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)

VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)

RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)

CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

WHAT’S DONE IN THE DARK, COMES TO LIGHT

PAIRING : sam winchester x fem!reader | dean winchester x fem!reader

SUMMARY : sam and reader have been together a few months. after a night out with her friends, she comes back to the motel, determined to have sex with her boyfriend. too drunk to notice, she climbes into the wrong bed.

WARNINGS : estalished relationship. strong language. fluff. angst. smut. oral (m. receiving). unprotected p in v. daddy kink. misunderstandings. violence. cheating. pining. mutual jealousy. mentions of alcohol.

A/N : had this idea in the archives for a while and thought it was time to share it. hope you like it as much as i did. also, if you need a clue: y/f/n-your friend’s name, y/o/f/n-your other friends’s name. y/n/n- your nickname

You and the boys had a case close to the city your best friends lived in. So, after the gruesome hunt, you catch up with them at their favorite bar. The brothers decide to join, eager to celebrate your victory while meeting your childhood friends. You walk into the bar, hand in hand with your handsome and tall boyfriend, his brother following behind as you search for the girls. Their eyes land on you, and their faces drop.

“Hey!” You shout as you see them making their way through the small crowd.

Letting go of his hand, you wrap your arms around your two best friends. They squeeze you tight, having not seen you in almost a year. It felt so good to be in their presence. You loved the company of the Winchesters, but it was due time to see your girls. And with luck on your side, they dropped all their plans to get together.

“Ugh, I’ve missed you guys!”

They let you breathe, pulling away from the embrace. “We missed you!”

“We’re glad you made it in one piece!”

They knew you were a hunter. You couldn’t lie to them. When you dropped out of college after learning about the supernatural firsthand, you couldn’t find an excuse good enough to tell them why and where you were going; You didn’t want to either. They begged you not to join the life, but they knew that whatever they said, wouldn't stop you.

“Thanks to these two,” You turn and intertwine your fingers with his before facing them again. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Sam.”

Their eyebrows raise, and their lips curl. “Boyfriend?”

Sam extends his free hand for them to shake. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“You too,” they say as they each accept his strong hand.

Dean stands beside you, eyeing up the girls. You glance toward him, swallowing your annoyance as you introduce, “And this is his older brother, Dean.”

Like every straight woman, they stare at the gorgeous specimen with hungry eyes. You knew your friends well enough to know what they were thinking. You couldn’t blame them; He’s magnificent to look at. When you began working with the boys, you had the same thoughts, but they vanished once you started dating Sam.

Like his brother, he reaches and shakes their hands. You felt a strange tinge in your body when Dean’s touch lingers. Unsurprisingly, the girls liked it, and pretty soon, they were paying more attention to him than you. After ordering drinks, everyone moves over to the pool table, to play a game of Cutthroat. The match wasn’t much of anything; Dean took turns with them, his arms wrapped around theirs, taking his sweet time to show them how to align and hit the ball just right.

You roll your eyes, feeling jealous, and you aren’t sure why. After prying your eyes away from the scene before you, you lean into Sam. He wraps his strong arm around your waist, kissing the crown of your head. Given he’s much taller, you tilt your chin to the ceiling and meet his gaze. He gives you a small smile, already knowing your request.

He clears his throat and calls over to his brother, “Hey, man, it’s getting kinda late. I’m gonna head out. You ready?”

Dean looks up from your friend and over at Sam. “Late? It’s only 10:30.” Your boyfriend gives him a look, and he takes the hint. “Oh, right.”

“Well, I’ll catch up with you boys later,” Sam pulls you into an embrace, and you whisper in his ear, “Don’t wait up.”

He plants a sweet kiss on your lips before turning his attention to your friends. They smile and give him a quick discussion on the consequences of what’ll happen if he doesn't treat you right. Sam chuckles at their attempt to be threatening but understands where they’re coming from. He would never hurt you, and you knew that. They exchanged their goodbyes with your boyfriend before turning towards Dean.

“Well, ladies, it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Maybe we can catch up tomorrow,” “You know, somewhere more private.” They purr in his ear.

It had been a while since his last threesome, and though the attractive women were tempting, he had his eyes on another girl, one that already belonged to someone else. He knew he could never make a move, and he had no choice but to be okay with it. After all, he only has himself to blame for constantly putting his brother’s happiness before his own. He plasters a fake smile and shakes his head at the proposal.

“I would, sweethearts, but the world ain't gonna save itself.”

"You're so brave," one of them fawns.

You roll your eyes for what feels like the tenth time. Hell, you’re surprised they haven’t rolled out of your head already. However, you’re the tiniest bit relieved when he declines their offer. You wouldn’t know who to be more angry with: him or them. Your friends weren’t the kind to have one-night stands but Dean never would’ve guessed. Knowing so, they would’ve gotten attached if they weren’t already. He says a final goodbye before walking towards you and Sam.

“Let’s go before I regret it.”

Sam gives you one last kiss, one that leaves you wanting more, earning a side glance from Dean that no one catches. “Have fun.”

With that, the three of you watch as the handsome brothers leave.

“They’re so hot.”

“How you get any work done is beyond me.”

With a chuckle, you shake your head. “It ain’t easy.”

“I could take them both and not in a fight,” Y/F/N says.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at your friend’s quip. Y/O/F/N laughs in agreement. Your mouth had fallen open, taken aback by her blunt honesty. Could you blame her? Not one bit.

“Well? Aren't we all thinking it?”

“Of course not!” You squeak.

“So you’re telling me that you wouldn’t have a threesome with them if the opportunity arose?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

“I mean…” You shrug your shoulders, not wanting to lie but not wanting to tell the truth either.

“Ha! You totally would!”

Shaking some sense back into your head, you speak over the loud, drunken individuals. “I love Sam. I don’t think I’d be with him if Dean and I ever…”

“Fucked?” Y/F/N finishes.

“Yes.”

“I could!” Your second friend shouts.

“I’ll drink to that!” says your first one, holding up her shot glass and waiting for you two to do the same.

You clink glasses and down the hard liquor. The alcohol burns in your throat, almost making you regret drinking it in the first place. You missed your girls. You adored Sam and Dean, but you couldn't get as rowdy and loose in front of them as you needed to sometimes. A few hours had gone by, and you each had switched to water after one too many shots of tequila.

“You’re telling me…tha you‘n Sam…haven’t donnit yet?” Your friend slurs.

You nod but stop when your head begins to spin. “Not once. I think ‘e wants to take it ssslowww.”

“Nuh-uh! You have ‘ta have’a drink from that talllll glass’iv wat-ter.” Your other friend says before raising her empty glass to her lips. She frowns and waves the bartender over. “Can I have’a tall glass of waterr?”

You three burst into laughter at the “coincidence.” The fading alcohol makes you all tear up a bit, making the not-so-funny joke hilarious. The bartender comes over, and sets your friend’s hydration on the counter in front of her, paying half a mind to your boisterous trio. A few minutes had passed and the joke began to die.

“Seriously, Y/N/N. You need to’ride that man, like yesterday!”

“Yeah! You go back to that motel ‘n get dicked down!…Dick him down!”

Despite her words, you knew exactly what she was saying. With confidence, you stand from the bar stool. “Youknow what? I willl! ‘M gonna go and do my boyfriend!”

“Yeah!” The cheer.

After downing the rest of your water, you throw your share onto the bar. “All right, bitches. Ima go get laid,” You wrap your arms around their necks and pull them in for a hug. “I’ll see ya guys, tomorrow.”

“We want alllll the details.”

“You b-better not hold out on us.”

“I promise!”

Fortunately for you, the walk wasn’t long. The motel was down the street from the bar they chose. The cool air helped sober you up, not much but enough to see straight. Once the Impala’s in sight, you smile to yourself. You pull the key out and silently struggle to get it in the keyhole. Finally, you hear the lock click.

“Aha!” You exclaim before shushing yourself.

You push the door open to the dark room. Sam had gone to sleep over an hour before you showed but Dean was wide awake. He couldn’t sleep. He hadn't been able to since he realized he had feelings for you, his brother unknowingly beating him to the punch. The moonlight shined across the floor, eliminating the foot of the beds. You quietly shut the door, and stumble to your duffle bag near the table.

Assuming the Winchesters were asleep, you don’t bother going to the bathroom to undress. You kick off your shoes, holding on to the table to keep your balance. Dean squints in the dark and sees your shadow, watching in secret. You pull your shirt over your head and his eyes widen. He looks away, knowing he shouldn’t watch, but he can’t help himself.

You wiggle out of your jeans, and Dean practically drools. Though the darkness engulfs you, the moonlight peeks through the thin curtains, casting a perfect glow over your curves from where you stand. You were in nothing but your undergarments, causing his pants to tighten. He knew he was wrong for watching you, for wanting you, for being so turned on but it wasn’t his fault. He can’t be blamed for how he felt, especially when you were almost naked in front of him.

Unsure if it was the confidence from the alcohol or the anticipation, you eagerly stroll between the beds. Dean closes his eyes, fearing that you’d catch him staring. You lift the bed sheet and the mattress dips softly beneath your weight. He stirs, forcing you to stop. Once he stills, you move again, this time between his legs. You kneel in front of him, grabbing the front of his jeans. His large hands stop yours, squeezing gently.

“What’re doing?” He whispers.

You push them away, whispering back, “I want you.”

With haste, you unbutton his jeans and yank down his zipper, allowing his boner room to grow. You lower his boxers, enough to expose his untrimmed hair, and though he wants to stop you, his mind clouds with lust as you pepper his pelvis with kisses. He wanted nothing more than you to take him into your pretty little mouth. To feel your lips around him, your cheeks hollowing as you suck harder and harder—no! You couldn’t.

“We can’t, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

“You’re drunk.”

He heard the drunken drawl and figured you only wanted him while under the influence. Though a pang struck his heart, he would never take advantage of you. Even if that wasn’t the case, even if you did want him, his brother was in the bed beside yours. No, he thought. We can't. He sighs, hating his decision but knowing it was the right one.

“But I’m sober enough to know I want this.” You straddle his hips, setting your heat on his erect and clothed member.

“We shouldn't…” He weakly fights but a gasp escapes once you move.

“Please,” You grind, enticing him with every word. “I want you so bad, baby. I’ve wanted you for sooo long. I’ve dreamt of your perfect cock inside me, filling my pussy with your cum. Please don’t make me wait any more. I need you.”

He bites his lip; He could spill his load right now if he chose to let go. Fuck! You had him so whipped. He couldn’t say no to you, not like this. But his brother invades his thoughts.

“But what about—?”

“What about him? I want you.” You feel his hesitation so you curl your fingers around his shirt, pressing your palms to his abdomen and sliding them up to his chest. You lean down and kiss his tattoo. “Don’t you want me?”

Without missing a beat, he answers, “Fuck, princess, I want you so bad.”

“So fuck me,” You sit up and grab his hand, bringing it to your damp panties. “I’m so wet for you, baby.”

He huffs in shock; You weren’t exaggerating. You were drenched, just for him. His thumb rubs against your folds, smearing the wetness against the soaked underwear. He runs his digit upward, applying light pressure to your aching clit, eliciting a quiet moan from your impatient body. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He needed you just as much as you needed him. He nods, and you see the shadow before you agree.

You nearly squeal with excitement but the quietness reminds you why it has to stay that way. After all, you didn’t want his brother waking up to the intimate and long-awaited scene. You return to your previous position and eagerly pull both his boxers and jeans down. With your face so close, his erection pops out, lightly smacking your cheek. The harmless slap goes directly to your core making it tingle with anticipation.

All you want to do is pounce and bounce on him, but you desperately want to swallow what he’s packing. You drag his pants to his ankles and he quickly kicks them off. Your hand wraps around his member and you’re thrilled by the size. He was thick but not too thick, long but not too long; Like you suspected: He was perfect.

He forces himself to keep still, letting you take charge. His breath quickens as he feels your own fan against his sensitive sack. You take his tightened nut into your hot mouth, sucking gently. His body flinches, not out of discomfort but out of immense pleasure. You stroke his twitching cock as you show love to his other testicle.

His breathing comes out in huffs; He isn’t sure how much longer he’s going to last and you haven’t even taken him in your mouth yet. As if you read his mind, your mouth travels upwards, your tongue licking the underside of his dick until it reaches the tip. Your mouth swiftly closes around it, tasting his delicious pre-cum. His fingers weave through your hair, desperately wanting you to go further but not wanting to rush you.

You get his unsubtle hint and take him down your throat, inch by inch. He throws his head back, loving the way your mouth feels. Needing air, you retract and breathe through your nose. You go down again, your cheeks beginning to hallow. Soon, you determine a steady pace, sucking harder with each bob.

The longer you pleasure him, the wetter you get. Your saliva escapes your mouth, traveling down his shaft and over his balls. He was so close, closer than he wanted to be. He was half tempted to cum down your throat but held off, wanting to fill you elsewhere. You’re so lost in giving him the best head he’s ever received, that you’re confused when he pushes you back.

“W-what? What’s wrong?” You whisper, dazed.

“Get on, sweetheart.”

Your pussy flutters at his words. Finally, you thought. Fingers hooked on the hem of your black lace thong, you drag it down your legs and toss it on the floor. You move so your knees are beside his hips and you hover above his erection. His tip brushes against your drenched folds, causing you to whimper.

His hands fly to your hips, helping you maintain your balance while trying to hide his eagerness. You’re so close to fulfilling his, and your, dreams of being deep inside you. Sure, he was always respectful of you, never objectifying you, but he’s a man after all. Yet, it was more than wanting sex. He wanted that connection; He craved it.

You reach between your legs and take hold of his awaiting phallus. Without prolonging it any longer, you align him with your entrance and slowly ease down. Your head falls back as you each moan softly, finally getting the touch you desire. His wet member and your soaked pussy allow a smooth acceptance and you’re damn thankful for the preparation. Your core meets his base, and you smile at being able to take him fully. After all, he’s bigger than what you’re used to.

He sheds his shirt and rubs your thighs as you adjust to one another. You place your palms against his torso, readying yourself to move. He positions his hands on your hips again, prepared to assist. You lift yourself, and he glides out of your tight hole. His breathing quickens as he watches himself disappear.

The pain of him stretching you out is drowned by the alcohol in your system. If it wasn’t for the liquor, you could’ve sworn you were just drunk on him. It doesn’t take long before you create an unholy rhythm. He was captivated by you. The way your hips roll and your body bounces…It was intoxicating. The line between the best ride he’s ever gotten and it being you was blurred. No, it’s definitely her talent.

What he wouldn’t give to see you and not your shadow. His hand cups your covered breast, squeezing lightly. When it doesn’t suffice, he reaches around and unhooks your bra. After tossing it with your underwear, his fingers twiddle your hardened nipple. Groans and quiet moans fall from both your lips but once his other hand moves to your front, you forget why you were trying to remain silent. His thumb instantly finds your clit, eliciting a loud whimper.

“Shh, sweetheart. ‘Don’t want to wake him up, do you?”

“No, Daddy,” you whine. “‘M sorry.”

The nickname sent chills down his spine and he wanted more. It wasn’t the first time a woman had addressed him that way in bed but you were the only one he wanted to hear it from. It egged him on, so much so that he found himself thrusting up into you, taking control. I’ll show her who her daddy is, he thought.

You moan again, just above a whisper. The hand he used to fondle your breast goes back to your hip, guiding your body up and down, up and down. His hips meet yours and his thumb adds more pressure. You begin to squirm above him, the pleasure raking over your body as it also builds in the pit of your belly. Heavy pants mix with the sweet sound of skin slapping—a symphony to your ears.

With his rhythm so vigorous, and your aching thighs, you were ready to topple over. His thumb rubbed harsh circles on your sensitive clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You were so close and so was he, but he refused to cum before you did. His hips snap up, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. Your nails dig into his skin, as you teeter on the edge of your most powerful orgasm yet. Fuck, keep going, Daddy, you thought what your mouth just couldn’t say. Just like that. He knew you were close by the way your walls clenched around his shaft. Just a few more—

“Dean, seriously? You—” The lamp between the two beds is switched on, blinding you and your partner.

Your high’s disrupted. You squint in the light, and when you see your boyfriend sitting up and across from you, your eyes widen. W-what the—? Your head whips to see the man still buried deep inside your guts. D-Dean?!

Suddenly, you become very sober. With a gasp, you push yourself off your deceiver. His mouth was agape, a mix of shock and guilt. We weren’t that loud, were we? But that wasn’t the point. No, he just had sex with his brother’s girlfriend.

Sam’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. The combination of moans, the collision of skin, and the mattress bouncing had awoken him. He groaned to himself, annoyed his brother would have sex in the same room he lay asleep in. Unable to ignore it, he decides to stop the fornication. What he didn’t expect was to find you on top.

“What the fuck?!” He shouts, throwing off his covers.

“Baby, i-it’s not what you think.”

You’re terrified. It wasn’t your fault, you thought Dean was Sam. In a way, it wasn’t Dean’s, either. He assumed you wanted him. You begged him. It didn’t matter. It was both of your faults. You should’ve known it wasn’t your boyfriend and he should’ve told you no and stuck to it.

“Sammy,” Dean holds his hands in defense. “Hold on a second—”

Sam leaps toward the bed, striking Dean across the face.

“No!” You cry, trying to pull your boyfriend away.

He lands another punch across his brother’s face. And again. You continue your pleas but he doesn’t listen. All he can see is red. You and Dean try to stop his violence but his strength overpowers you both.

“Baby, stop!” You tug his arm once more but he shoves you away.

He doesn’t mean to do it so hard. The force pushes you off the mattress. The room spins, not because you hit your head, but because of the alcohol and complexity of the situation. The possibility of you being hurt, of him hurting you, breaks through his fit of rage. He stops his punishment against Dean’s countenance and checks on you.

You sit up and see Sam with a worried look. Seeing you’re fine, he steps into his shoes before grabbing his duffle bag, and the keys to the Impala. With as much haste as you could gather, you begin to stand. He stomps to the door, throwing it open then storming out. You quickly wrap a sheet around your body before running out of the motel after him.

“Sam, wait!” You jog towards him, trying to catch his attention. “I swear it’s not what it looked like.”

He stops abruptly, and you run into his back. You stumble as he turns on his heel, “Really? ‘Cause it looked like you were fucking my brother!”

You shake your head frantically. “I thought it was you!”

“What? How the fuck do you get him and I confused?!”

“I—It was dark, I was drunk—I am drunk. I forgot which bed was ours,” he stared at you wildly. “Baby, I would never cheat on you. I’m yours, only yours.”

He chuckles darkly, sending shivers down your spine. “Yeah, well, not after this.”

Sam spins around and in a few strides, he’s beside the Impala. The door creaks open and he throws his bag into the passenger seat. He hops in and shuts the classic door behind him. You run towards the car, and put your hand against the glass. Tears begin to well in your eyes, afraid he’s serious. How could he not be? His girlfriend and his brother…the perfect recipe for disaster.

“Please, don’t go. We can work this out,” You plead, your eyes reflecting the desperation.

He ignores you and starts the engine. It roars to life and you’re petrified of the sound. You know if he drives away, it’ll haunt you forever. And that’s what he does. You begin to pound on the window, following the car as it backs out. The tears spill over and your breathing is erratic.

“Don’t go! Please! Sammy, don’t leave! Please, baby, I love you! No, no, no!”

Your boyfriend peels out of the parking lot, leaving you a crying mess. You didn’t know what to feel most ashamed of: The fact you cheated on your loving partner or how good it felt before the light turned on. Back in the motel room, Dean gets dressed. He touches his sore cheek, wincing from the pain. He had heard your confession and he couldn’t have been any more devastated. You thought he was his brother.

What was he thinking? He should’ve known better. It wasn’t the first time he’d taken the girl Sam liked away but this was the first girlfriend. He couldn’t help himself; He’s in love with you. You should’ve been his for the start.

He isn’t sure which is worse: That he might’ve lost Sammy for good, or that he doesn’t regret what happened.

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MUSCLE MEMORY ⋆✦⋆ miya osamu

synopsis ➸ he was drunk when you called, but he sobered up the second he heard your voice. you said it was a mistake, that you didn’t mean to dial him—but he was already on his way. six months later, he’s still in your living room, dragging out every screw and instruction manual like it’ll keep you from asking him to leave.

tags ➸ exes to lovers, divorce, mutual pining, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, mentions of night terrors, making out, pda, dry humping, breèding kínk, hand job, unprotected sèx, nípple play, riding, praise kínk, dírty talking, creámpie

wc ➸ 12.4k

The sandpaper rasp of the wrench twisting into place sawed through Osamu's mental haze. He paused, squinting down at the befuddling array of components fanned out across your living room floor. What the hell was he even working on now? A dresser maybe? Or was this the start of that ludicrously ornate entertainment center you'd ordered last week?

With a frustrated grunt, he raked a meaty palm down his face, grinding the heels into his eye sockets until stars burst across his vision. Didn't matter what useless hunk of IKEA crap it was - the process remained the same damn song and dance every time. You'd call him in a mild panic over being hopelessly lost, he'd show up grumbling insults about your household incompetence under his breath, then inevitably succumb to staying and handling the entire assembly from start to finish.

All because of that one fateful night nearly six months ago when you'd called without thinking, voice soft and contented in a way that gutted Osamu completely.

"Hey babe, think you could come over and help me put this new coffee table together?"

The endearment had slipped out so effortlessly, luring images of the thousands of other mundane evenings he'd reported for wifely summons over the years. How many times had you greeted him just like that after work, beckoning him over to lend his hands to whatever domestic task needed handling while you puttered around your warm, chaotic little home?

He'd frozen with the phone still cradled against his ear, a penny whiskey and lingering self-loathing temporarily displaced by blinding white confusion. That single careless "babe" ricocheted through his alcohol-addled senses like a gunshot. Osamu replayed the words over and over, hunting for any hint of mockery or jest in your gentle tones. But there was none to be found - only the breezy assumption that he would, of course, be heading your way like always when called upon.

"...Osamu?" Your hesitant inquiry several beats later had him flinching violently, nearly dropping his glass in the process. Somehow you'd already sensed your mistake, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "Oh god, I shouldn't have just—we're not—I mean, I know you're not my husband anymore, forget I asked..."

But he hadn't forgotten. Hadn't processed or responded at all, really - just let the stunned inertia carry him forward for once instead of railing instinctively against it. His body moved on autopilot while your clumsy apologies filtered through the dense cotton shrouding his mind. Keys plucked from the dish. Jacket shrugged on over his rumpled sweats. The rote motions of preparing to head out and placate your helplessness all over again, divorce papers be damned.

The words finally came in a gruff rush only after Osamu was already pulling his truck out onto the main road.

"Just send me yer address. Be there soon."

He had no justification for the abrupt decision, no reasoned explanation. Maybe it was sheer impulse driven by a lifetime of conditioning to provide for you. Or perhaps there was some profoundly deeper current swirling beneath his dependably cynical surface that wouldn't allow the separation to sever such intrinsic responses completely. Either way, Osamu was powerless to resist its undertow - and he found he didn't want to fight it as he steered towards your place with a hollow ache spreading through his chest.

That first visit was supposed to be an outlier, the exception to shut down any further relapses in domesticity. Yet somehow, it had quickly spiraled into a new normal. Every time you inevitably dialed his number with a hapless plea for assistance, he reflexively found himself throwing on shoes and grabbing his toolbox without preamble. Often he was already halfway to your door before bothering to rationalize it or talk himself out of enabling this pathetic pattern you'd lapsesd into.

Week after week, month after month, the excuses and pretenses became flimsier and flimsier. At first, he told himself it was pure ego driving him to show up - that he derived some sick satisfaction from giving you hell about being so helpless on your own without him around to pick up the pieces. Look at your dumb ex-wife, can't even follow basic IKEA diagrams!

But the more jobs he completed with that same well-worn song and dance, the less weight the cruel taunts carried. His insults grew increasingly toothless, more like ingrained preambles out of sheer habit than any genuine derision. Until finally, Osamu was forced to confront the awful truth clawing at his ribcage each time he walked back into your space:

He simply couldn't resist the unconscious pull of being your husband again, even briefly and in this limited scope of handyman duties. Maybe it was masochistic, allowing himself to sink back into those waters of domesticity he used to drown in daily before everything went to shit between you. Or maybe he was just weak in ways he'd never admit - still not fully untangled from the intoxicating gravity of your combined existence.

Whichever justification rang truest, the outcome was the same. Osamu let himself become utterly unmoored by the mindless allure of being summoned to your side again, no matter how much he pretended it was an unwanted imposition. Because in those moments of cursing and hammering and careful assemblage, everything felt temporarily right in a way it hadn't for what felt like eons. Just him, sweat gathering along his hairline as he handled tools with a familiar easy cadence. And you, pottering nearby with a ready supply of beverages and off-hand encouragement to keep his steady rhythm flowing.

It was all so painfully, disarmingly unchanged whenever he willingly shed his lone wolf persona and stepped back into his vacated role at your side. That fact alone should have stripped Osamu of any lingering delusions - the harrowing intimation that perhaps he hadn't actually let go of being your partner in all the ways that mattered most, no matter how many years or court proceedings stated otherwise.

Yet whenever he found himself standing before your disheveled array of particle-board and scattered allen wrenches, Osamu couldn't resist the same tired refrain from echoing across his brooding inner monologue:

"Gonna take me at least a few weeks to get this mess put together proper. Might as well get comfortable, sweetheart..."

The endearment slipped out unconsciously, as natural as breathing. Osamu didn't even flinch at it anymore - just accepted the treacherously effortless backslide into old habits wherever you were concerned. Because in reality, this ramshackle plywood monstrosity wouldn't take him longer than a few hours, max, to fully assemble and have operational.

He was lying through his teeth about the projected timeline, and you both knew it. But you never called him on the flimsy ruse, just accepted each revised delay with a bemused look and fresh supply of cold barley tea awaiting Osamu's eventual break. As if you inherently understood that he was grasping at straws to prolong these rare interludes of domesticity for as long as possible.

The first time you'd moved to fetch your purse and peel off some cash to compensate him for his troubles, Osamu hadn't even thought - just reacted. One large, calloused palm engulfed your smaller one before it could fully withdraw from your bag. He drew it towards his chest, splaying your fingers over the steady thrum of his heartbeat through the thin cotton barrier.

"Don't even think about it, dummy," he'd rasped, the gentle admonishment at odds with the gruff delivery. "Ya know damn well I ain't here for money."

The words hung pregnant with unspoken depths between you, a fragile tension replacing the usual playful bickering. For a fleeting moment, Osamu thought you might draw away, might finally put a stop to this peculiar pattern of his with a soft yet firm rebuke.

Instead, you simply watched him with those infinitely familiar eyes that still gutted him regularly - open and searching and far too understanding for his liking. Then you nodded once, just slightly, and allowed your hand to linger against the frantic cadence of his pulse until he released you.

Since that evening, a sort of tenuous equilibrium had settled over your strange arrangement. You never moved to leave Osamu to his own devices anymore when he played dumb about needing "more time" with a project. Just accepted his continued presence hovering around your space with all the routinized nonchalance of a spouse moving through their own home.

He, in turn, no longer fought the subtle shifts that pulled him deeper and deeper into the reassuring gravities of old patterns. Like watching you haphazardly toss off your mismatched fuzzy socks in a meandering trail from doorway to kitchen before puttering about with whatever domestic task you pleased. Or the easy silence that embraced you both as Osamu worked, punctuated only by his quiet curses or the clinking of a fresh beverage being deposited within his reaching range.

Some nights, the easiness extended even into your kitchen as he prowled barefoot through the cramped galley, fully re-immersed in the role of putting together a meal for you both. Not out of any sense of obligation or guilt, but simply because the mindless ritual of cooking for your household came as second nature after so many years' practice.

Osamu couldn't resist sneaking glances over his shoulder to watch you curled up on the sofa, bare feet tucked beneath you and attention divided between whatever book or video you had playing and the soothing sounds of him working nearby. In those flickering moments illuminated by the soft glow of lamps and candles, everything felt so oppressively, deliriously right - like stepping directly back into the warm embrace of the past in a way Osamu hadn't experienced since your world was upended.

Some nights, he let himself pretend none of it had ever changed. That walking through the front door wouldn't eventually mean a jarring return to his cavernously empty apartment and the ever-encroaching loneliness lately. That this suspended illusion of being your partner again could simply stretch on indefinitely, leaving him gloriously unmoored.

Denial was a hell of a drug, as they said. But Osamu had always been a hopeless addict when it came to you.

The vanity's cumbersome weight settled onto the bedroom floor with a muted thud, scuffing pale marks into the worn hardwood. Osamu straightened, rolling his shoulders to work out the lingering knots as he surveyed his handiwork. Not too shabby, all things considered - the ornate piece looked damn near regal set against the soft blue-grey walls.

He blew out a low whistle, dragging his arm across his sweat-beaded brow as he pivoted to scope out the rest of your bedroom for the first time. Despite all the weeks and odd jobs he'd tackled around your new place, this particular sanctuary had remained off-limits until now. Part of him had unconsciously avoided crossing that line out of respect for boundaries, no matter how blurred they'd become elsewhere.

But now that he stood amidst the intimately personal space, hints of your essence seemed to permeate every particle. The delicate woven throw draped artfully across the overstuffed armchair in the corner. The collection of well-loved books haphazardly stacked on the nightstand, their cracked spines and dog-eared pages testaments to being revisited often. Even the subtly floral fragrance woven through the summer-breezy air unmistakably belonged to you.

Osamu inhaled deeply, letting the soothing familiarity of it all momentarily envelope him as he dragged his analytical gaze across each detail, cataloging and filing away the pieces of you on display. That's when his sweeping perusal stuttered to a halt, brow furrowing slightly as realization struck like an anvil weight in his gut.

There was no bed.

He did another slow pivot, eyes roving every inch of the spacious room as if expecting the absence of something so fundamental to materialize out of sheer obstinate scrutiny. But no matter which way he turned and looked again, the bare reality remained - no bed, no mattress, nothing more than the solitary armchair and vanity occupying the wide-open floorspace.

A harsh slew of curses broke from Osamu's lips before he could rein them in. Of course...of fucking course you didn't have a proper bed set up yet. He was peripherally aware of your sleeping situation - if the ramshackle state of your living room sofa quilted with ratty blankets and travel pillows was any indication. But standing here confronted by the harsh truth amidst these walls meant to be a sanctuary hurtled the implication home with stunning finality.

He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, mouth twisting bitterly as flashes of repressed memories flickered across his mindscape. Of you curled up in the dead of night, whimpering and shaking, whole body quivering from the thrall of another night terror. How you'd instinctively burrowed against him for safety, for the solid reassurance of his bulk and soothing murmurs easing you back from the brink. Neither of you had ever acknowledged those visceral moments of vulnerability, but he knew - knew how terrified you were of the dark and of sleeping alone with only your unquiet mind for company.

That was just the first of a whole cavalcade of realizations rapidly crashing over Osamu in waves of nauseous comprehension. With no bedframe, there was no tucking you in each night and drawing you close, surrounding your slight body with his familiar warmth and protective embrace until your racing heart calmed. No nuzzling your sleep-tousled hair and breathing in those first soft, earthy exhalations in the morning before extracting himself and padding off to put on a fresh pot of coffee. The way you'd always loved waking up to its rich aroma wafting from the kitchen no matter how early Osamu rose.

No more startling upright at the smallest creak or groan of your home settling around you, every noise an intruder until Osamu made a sweeping check and eased you back down with a reassuring murmur that it was just the house, just the old frame contracting with the night's chill. No more of him lumbering up in the darkness to find the latest unfortunate creepy-crawly invader and dispatch of it before returning to tuck you securely back under the covers, soothing your shudders with warm palms and featherlight kisses until you drifted off again.

Just...no more intimacies and routines and domesticities that had shaped so much of Osamu's purpose for well over a decade, now unceremoniously stripped away by your separation.

The realization left him feeling as though all the air had been forcibly drawn from his lungs in one punishing exhale. He doubled over with the force of it, knuckles blanching against the glossy vanity's sleek countertop as he struggled to draw breath. Of course he'd been aware of the changes, the rifts now severing what had once been such an intrinsic part of sharing your lives. But coming face-to-face with this empty bedroom and how bereft of true comfort it clearly was for you sliced right through to something primal and protective deep in Osamu's psyche.

"Hey, dinner's ready whenever you're done brooding over there!"

Your lighthearted call shattered through the spiraling vortex of Osamu's troubled thoughts. He straightened abruptly, disoriented for a beat before the rich, homey scents wafting in from the kitchen reoriented him. Right, you'd mentioned putting together a meal for the both of you once he finished up for the evening.

Dragging in a deep, steadying breath, Osamu willed his turbulent emotions into an infinitesimal box to be violently suppressed for now. He couldn't allow the anguished maelstrom of domesticity's absence to show on his face, not when you were so close and oblivious to his inner torment. With a few raking swipes of his palms down his sweat-damp face, he drew himself up to his full imposing height and turned towards the doorway.

The sight that awaited him in the cramped kitchen archway very nearly unraveled Osamu's hard-won composure all over again.

There you stood in your usual cooking attire - one of his old oversized t-shirts from high school, the faded cotton bunched up around your hips and showcasing your bare legs all the way down to those ridiculous mismatched fuzzy socks you always insisted on wearing. Your hair was piled in a messy topknot, loose tendrils framing your face and catching the soft evening light in a glowing halo.

You looked...so achingly familiar. So reminiscent of the thousands of other evenings Osamu had returned home from the restaurant or the gym or wherever to find you pottering around your shared living space in that same casually intimate state of undress. Completely comfortable and unguarded in a way very few ever got to witness - the purely domestic you that he'd committed to loving and cherishing until the end of his days.

And now here you were, existing in that same warm cocoon of homemaker contentment but utterly bereft of his steadying presence as the other counterweight. The gorgeous tableau you made standing there stirring something on the stovetop with your bare feet tucked up under you felt hauntingly, tragically incomplete in a way that put Osamu's throat in a vise.

His gaze roamed over the flex of your arms as you lifted the spoon to your lips for a taste, the elegant curve of your spine as you shifted your weight from foot to foot - all the tiny, quotidian details he'd once memorized so thoroughly they felt like extensions of his own body. Little snapshots of life and movement he'd once gotten to observe and admire as freely and unguardedly as he pleased, because you had belonged irrevocably to one another.

Now that simple pleasure - the artless intimacy of basking in each other's natural state - was forbidden him apart from these fleeting glimpses stolen under the pretense of being your handyman. Osamu felt reality crashing back down in waves of visceral grief sharpened by the purgatory of never fully losing this aspect of you, yet constantly having it daringly daunt just beyond his yearning reach.

A lump swelled in his throat as images began flickering through his mind, each one more haunting than the last. Of you succumbing to winter's vicious chills with no one there to wrap you in fortifying layers and nourishing soup broth to fight off illness. Of slipping and taking a nasty spill down the narrow staircase without his steadying arm to cling to, lying there helpless and alone until you could drag yourself to a phone for emergency assistance. Of bolting awake in the dead of night with your heart jackhammering from some terror-soaked nightmare, hands scrabbling for purchase and finding nothing but empty sheets and darkness to compound the panic.

Worst of all were the flashes of you simply...existing in a state of isolated loneliness, surrounded by this hollow house that was supposed to be a sanctuary but instead formed yet another reminder of Osamu's absence. Of his failure to be there for you the way he'd once sworn to the farthest stars.

Before he could spiral entirely, your melodic voice anchored him back to the present moment at hand.

"Earth to Osamu?" You grinned over your shoulder, luminous eyes sparkling with a gentleness that sucker-punched him squarely in the gut. "You getting that broody look again cause something's too complicated for those big strong hands of yours?"

The teasing lilt was feather-light and lilting - so fondly familiar that for a single delirious heartbeat, Osamu could actually convince himself nothing had changed between you. That this was all just another evening unfolding like the millions preceding it throughout your long history together.

Then reality came crashing back down, that infinitesimal box of suppressed emotion cracking open until acidic undertows were lapping at his ribs with every inhale. Osamu sucked in a harsh breath through his nostrils, jaw clenching hard enough to grind enamel as he struggled to reign himself back in.

"Very funny," he managed at last, aiming for nonchalance but hearing the ragged edges fringing his tone nonetheless. "You got a mouth on you tonight, that's for sure."

Rather than rising to the bait and firing off another salvo of playful barbs, you simply hummed thoughtfully before turning back to your cooking endeavors. Osamu watched, feeling increasingly disoriented by the casual domesticity, as you deftly transferred portions to waiting dishes and carried everything to the small dining table in the adjacent room.

"Well c'mon then, no need to make yourself a stranger!" you called over your shoulder with a grin. "That vanity won't be ready to use until you've refueled for the night."

The lilting words wrapped around Osamu's senses, both grounding and disorienting him further into a dizzying vortex of memories and yearning and desperate, crippling fear.

Dinner proved to be even more torturous than Osamu could have anticipated. Seated across from you at the cramped little dining table, he found himself repeatedly clenching his jaw and fists to restrain from simply reaching out and clasping your hand in his. To twine those deft fingers with his own calloused ones and revel in the featherlight caress of your pulse fluttering against his wrist.

You carried on with breezy conversation, utterly oblivious to the brutally visceral war he was waging to keep from shattering every pretense between you. With each lilting anecdote and bright peal of laughter, Osamu's resolve fractured further - hairline cracks spiderwebbing outwards from his restraint's foundations. By the time you rose to start clearing dishes, his composure hung by a few bare threads.

He watched with bated breath as you padded around the kitchen, hips swaying in that unconsciously hypnotic rhythm he'd admired for over a decade. The column of your throat worked with each swallow, clavicles casting distracting shadows that drew Osamu's heated stare like a magnet. Resisting the overwhelming urge to simply cross the scant distance separating you and wrap himself around your pliant form was swiftly becoming an exercise in agony.

You paused by the sink, back to him as you efficiently rinsed the first plate. The soft sounds of running water and your quiet humming curled around the nape of Osamu's neck, sending goosebumps rippling across his flesh. His fingertips twitched with yearning to reach out and ghost along the elegant inward curve of your waist, palms settling possessively on the flare of your hips to tug you snug against his chest. He could perfectly envision nuzzling into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, lips skating across the hammering pulse point as you shivered and instinctively arched back into his embrace...

Osamu's throat clicked with a muffled groan as he abruptly shoved away from the table, scattering the remaining dishes in his haste to create distance before he could surrender to the impulse clawing at his ribcage. The harsh screech of wood on tile finally made you turn, blinking owlishly at him.

"Everything okay?" The words were innocent enough, but Osamu flinched like he'd been struck. Didn't you realize what you were doing to him with even the slightest movement or vocal caress?

"I—yeah. Just...gonna get a head start cleaning up the rest of that mess." He gestured vaguely at the half-assembled vanity parts still strewn in the living room to divert your questioning stare. You hummed in acknowledgment before returning your focus to the sink and dishwater.

It took every ounce of Osamu's waning self-restraint not to immediately retreat right then as planned. Instead, some masochistic impulse rooted him to the spot, gaze helplessly drinking in every curve and subtle shift of your body at work. The nearly irrepressible compulsion to wrap you up in his arms and relearn each dip and swell with hands and mouth was becoming a physical ache, radiating from the cradle of his hips.

By the time the final dish clattered into the drying rack, Osamu felt positively feverish - a maelstrom of need and desperation simmering beneath his clenched jaw and white-knuckled fists. He watched with rapt hunger as you turned towards him once more, swiping loose tendrils of hair back from your flushed cheeks. At the first glimpse of your softened features and those infinitely gentle eyes regarding him, a tremor shivered through Osamu's broad frame.

"So..." you began, seemingly unaware of the storm roiling behind his rigor-tight exterior. "That should just about do it for assembling everything I needed help with, yeah?"

Your words were like the death knell, reverberating through Osamu in waves of wretched comprehension. Whatever dizzying spiral of domesticated bliss he'd spun himself into was about to end. This illusion of being your husband and provider again, however fleeting, would shatter permanently the instant he returned to the barren, yawning silence of his own empty apartment. And some small, wretched part of him wasn't sure he would survive the transition emotionally intact a second time.

Osamu tried and failed to formulate a response around the steadily constricting vise encircling his throat. He simply stared at you mutely, gut clenching with all the farewells and protestation scalding at the back of his tongue. Don't make me leave. Don't eject me from this little world we've reconstructed and straight back into the bone-deep loneliness, not yet. I'm not ready—

"Hey." Your soft murmur coaxed Osamu's awareness back to the present just as you'd begun tentatively closing the distance between you. Your palms cupped his bristled cheeks with infinite tenderness, calloused thumbs sweeping in gentle arcs. "This was...really, really amazing of you, you know. Coming through for me again and again like this despite everything. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to properly thank you for—"

The gentleness in your tone and the exquisite warmth of your touch against his skin proved to be Osamu's ultimate undoing. With a harsh rumble torn from the depths of his sternum, he surged forward and engulfed you in the circle of his arms - swift and utterly inescapable. You made a soft sound of surprise quickly swallowed by the solid wall of his chest as he crushed you against his painfully rigid frame.

"Don't..." Osamu rasped out the single syllable with such gruff vehemence that you instinctively froze in his unrelenting embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut, savoring the feel of you - so achingly familiar yet electrically new after weeks of deprivation. The scent of your hair, the pliant curves yielding to his unyielding musculature, the stutter of your startled inhalations puffing against the bare skin of his throat. It was intoxicating, dizzying, devastating in equal measure.

"Don't you dare thank me," he managed at last in a low rasp against the crown of your head. His words vibrated into the very marrow of you with their quiet intensity. "Like I'm some stranger doin' you a favor instead of..."

Instead of what? His wife, his partner, his entire goddamn world until the cosmos decided to twist the knife a little deeper? The sentiment clung bitterly to the back of Osamu's tongue, sullen truth cloying in his throat until he swallowed hard against it. No words could adequately capture the depths of what you were to him in this moment, wholly encompassed in his arms once more.

With a shuddering inhale against your hair, Osamu simply allowed himself to sink further into the comforting abyss of holding you so intimately. This was what he'd been so desperately aching for all along - not the mere ability to lend his capable hands in putting together inanimate pieces of your new life, but the privilege of simply being present as a visceral part of it once more. Of slipping so seamlessly back into being your steadying anchor, your shelter against the world's crueler contradictions that you fought so admirably to rise above.

Time seemed to melt and blur around the two of you frozen together in the dimly lit kitchen as a galaxy of contradictions warred behind Osamu's eyes. He breathed you in with every lungful, each molecule of your essence searing straight through to scorch his withered soul. Memories flickered like dying embers - thousands of other embraces shared over countless evenings, each as mundane and life-alteringly significant as this one.

Yet in the same breath, this felt profoundly and irrevocably unprecedented between you - the first time since your legal separation that Osamu had dared clutch you with such brazen, unguarded yearning. As if enveloping your pliant form was the only talisman still binding him to reality, to whatever remnants of purpose and identity were inextricably tethered to simply...being yours. And you his, despite the distance contrived to render the notion dead letters on a decree.

The thud of Osamu's rabbit-kicking pulse reverberated through every inch of his suffocating embrace. Each hammering cadence seemed to scream the same lament - Never leave me again, don't make me surrender you and this world we've only just reconstructed. I can't, I won't, don't ask me to—

His silent inner turmoil must have vibrated outwards, bleeding into the aura of frantic desperation enveloping you both. For you made another small, unintelligible sound against Osamu's heaving chest that sparked like a livewire to his nerve endings.Instinctively, he stiffened his arms into unforgiving bands until you were utterly subsumed within him. As if the slightest allowance of space would mean your immediate, irrevocable loss forever more.

Then, with a ragged exhalation escaping his gritted teeth, Osamu reluctantly dragged his lashes apart and allowed his forehead to drop against yours. Your faces hovered achingly close, close enough for your trembling breaths to mingle and eyes to blur together into a universe of their own making. Little more than a hairsbreadth separated your primed lips, Osamu's gaze fixated on the infinitely delicate swell of their petal-soft flesh as you unconsciously swiped your tongue over the seam in a devastating swipe.

A low, gravelly keen vibrated up from the confines of his ribs as feverish compulsion took over. Osamu found himself leaning infinitesimally forward without conscious thought or restraint, magnetic and undeniable. He angled his head just enough to allow your noses to brush in the faintest caress as your lips...your lips were suddenly so impossibly close his entire being vibrated with the need to surge across that final searing distance and—

Your trembling fingers found purchase against the taut cords of Osamu's nape, digits splaying wide to anchor him in place. He shuddered at the scorching brand of your touch, gut clenching in anticipation of either being pulled infinitely closer or utterly severed from your tempting orbit.

But you didn't relinquish the tenuous connection thrumming between you. If anything, the barest hint of pressure from your palms coaxed Osamu to sway another infinitesimal fraction nearer until the whisper-soft swell of your lips hovered an exquisite hairsbreadth from his own.

A tremor rippled through his whole body at the first searing brush of your breath fanning hotly against his mouth. Osamu's lids slipped to half-mast without conscious thought, transfixed by the plump blush of your lower lip as your tongue swiped out to wet them with devastating intent.

He was already leaning in, succumbing to the magnetic draw, when you surged upwards to crash against him in a searing collision of velvet heat.

A deep, guttural keen reverberated from the depths of Osamu's chest as your mouths melded with urgent insistence. He swayed dangerously on the precipice of his restraint for all of a heartbeat before surrendering completely. With a harsh rumble of pure visceral need, his arms constricted around your pliant body until not an inch of space remained between you.

Then, like a starving man who'd glimpsed an oasis after years of deprivation, Osamu simply allowed himself to indulge without hesitation. To sate the endless aching hollow that had steadily consumed him since last he'd sampled your essence so intimately.

His lips moved with hungry, devouring strokes - licking into the searing cavern of your mouth with relentless undulations that stoked the wildfire rapidly engulfing your entwined frames. You arched helplessly against the scorching heat of his broad palms spanning your lower back, fingers splaying wide to knead against the flexing muscles working just beneath the surface of your skin.

When the first desperate keen spilled from between your kiss-bruised lips, Osamu wasted no time in coaxing it into a resonant moan that buzzed against his stinging mouth. He canted his hips with purposeful pressure, pinning you immobile as he ground his rapidly stiffening cock into the softness of your pelvis with deliciously torturous friction.

It wasn't until the two of you were both trembling and gasping into one another that Osamu found the iron-willed strength to slowly disengage. He gentled the devouring sweeps of his tongue, teeth scraping in a lush caress as he gradually coaxed the tempo into something slower and infinitely more searing. Each excruciatingly tender glide of your mouths was a convulsive give and take - a tantalizing farewell embrace soaked in poignancy and desperate longing.

Finally, with a ragged groan torn from somewhere primal, Osamu tore himself free. Only to sway there gasping as if punched in the gut, foreheads pressed flush and lungs heaving in ragged synchronicity. His chest still cradled yours, hard ridges and sweat-dewed flesh sealed as one.

You whimpered first - a soft, infinitely vulnerable sound that fractured straight through to Osamu's very marrow. It took every ounce of restraint still lurking in his hollowed bones not to immediately surge back in and silence the anguish with his lips and tongue and wretched, yearning soul.

Instead, he found his hands drifting upwards until his palms cradled your feverish cheeks with infinite tenderness. Osamu drank in every precious detail of your features through a sheen of unshed desperation. The frantic flutter of your lashes against freshly kissed skin. The lush, swollen contours of your mouth that panted in time with his own.

"Let's get you a fuckin' bed already," he rasped out at last, the sudden gravel of his voice making you shiver anew against him. A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of Osamu's mouth, underscored with a hundred different roiling emotions barely restrained behind it. "Can't have my wife spendin' another night on that worn-out sofa, now can I?"

The endearment slipped free before he could bite it back, weighted with layers of yearning and promise and a profoundly deeper intimacy than simple words could convey. But from the way your breath hitched and crystalline eyes sharpened to laser focus entirely on him, Osamu knew you heard every one of those unspoken depths loud and clear.

He didn't look away or attempt to backpedal — simply held your searching stare with that same molten intensity even as his thumb stroked tenderly across the upswept beauty mark below your parted lips. An anchor, a tether, a binding vow of intent all shored up in one infinitesimal caress.

You held Osamu's piercing stare for a long moment, feeling pinned in place by the smoldering promise flickering behind those gunmetal irises of his. Finally, you gave a slow nod. "Okay...let's go get a bed then."

The drive to the local furniture showroom passed in a weighty hush, punctuated only by the occasional burst of evening traffic and sideways glances you stole at Osamu's grim profile. He kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, forearms tensed against the steering wheel with hands gripping tight enough to strain the knuckles. You couldn't begin to fathom the cyclone of thoughts and emotions warring behind that brutally calm facade.

Eventually, you pulled into the dimly lit parking lot and climbed out without a word. Osamu fell into step beside you, radiating that aura of surly disquiet you'd grown so familiar with in recent weeks. Yet there was an undercurrent thrumming between you now - a new vibrating frequency wrought from the lingering echoes of your impassioned embrace and whatever fragile agreement you'd stumbled upon.

Once inside the cavernous showroom, you felt some of the leaden tension release its vice grip enough for you to draw a deeper breath. Almost instinctively, you found yourself gravitating towards the furthest display of luxurious mattresses and bed frames, fingers trailing along the opulent fabrics and polished woods as you passed.

"I've always liked the look of the sleigh beds," you commented idly over one shoulder, watching Osamu steadily approaching through your periphery. "With the curved headboards and footboards, you know? They feel so sturdy and supportive without being too overbearing."

He hummed noncommittally as you came to a halt before an incredibly lavish mid-century piece. Despite its grand presence, the subtle embellishments and deep coffee wood stain exuded warmth and familiarity in a way you found immensely appealing. Beckoning, even.

You sank down onto the plush mattress with a contented murmur, feeling the high-quality memory foam contouring to your weight and cupping your curves enticingly. Almost without conscious volition, you leaned back onto your elbows and stretched out — shameless in your indulgence to test the comfort and support in your usual sleeping position.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Osamu's throat work in a harsh swallow as his gaze raked over the lines of your body. There was a weighted heat searing behind those slate irises of his, a predatory promise reminiscent of your fervent embrace only an hour earlier. The memory of his unyielding frame pinning yours into searing compliance made an insistent fluttering erupt low in your abdomen.

"Not bad," was his only terse assessment after a prolonged pause. You watched, mesmerized, as he slowly circled the bed like a wolf scenting its prey. Each unhurried footfall felt charged with blistering tension and roiling intent.

When Osamu reached the footboard, he braced both hands against the smoothly curved wood with enough force to whiten his knuckles further. His shoulders tensed and released as he inhaled a measured breath before pivoting to pin you with that loaded stare once more.

"Lots of space to stretch out," he remarked in that same low, thrumming rasp. "Seems sturdy enough, too. Built to take on a lotta...friction without fallin' apart."

The blatant insinuation curled around your nerves like physical caresses. You bit the inside of your cheek sharply to smother the whimper threatening to break free at the spark of liquid heat pooling between your thighs.

Perhaps sensing your body's visceral reaction, Osamu's mouth curved into a smug facsimile of a smirk as he leaned forward incrementally. Until his weighty presence consumed your periphery, obliterating every other stimulus apart from the sandalwood-musk cologne and smoldering promise radiating off his solidmuscular frame in waves.

"You think it'll do, babe?" His gravelly rumble was pitched for your ears alone, dripping with dark promise that liquefied your bones. "This the kinda bed you want me puttin' you through your paces on every night?"

A violent shudder ripped through you at the mental images his words conjured — of slick flesh trailing scorching paths across rumpled sheets, sinuous bodies arching and rocking in unbridled ecstasy. Osamu's smirk deepened into something utterly ravenous at whatever he glimpsed flickering across your features. He opened his mouth to undoubtedly ratchet up the torment further when a discreet cough from across the showroom shattered the lascivious fog wreathing you both.

You startled, eyes swiveling guiltily to find a middle-aged saleswoman regarding you with a look of polite incredulity. Clearly she'd witnessed enough of Osamu's provocative stance looming over your prone form to gauge the situation accurately. Heat flooded your cheeks as you scrambled upright, surreptitiously tugging your skirt back into proper place.

Osamu simply leveled the hapless employee with one of his signature inscrutable looks, not bothering to extricate himself from his position caging you against the mattress. If anything, he seemed to lean in fractionally closer - a barely perceptible assertion of dominance that had your pulse skittering anew.

The poor saleswoman cleared her throat again, shifting awkwardly. "My apologies for interrupting...I simply wanted to let you know we'll be closing the showroom in about fifteen minutes if you need any assistance with your, er, selection this evening."

"We're good, thanks," Osamu responded gruffly, not even bothering to glance her way as he continued pinning you with that incendiary stare.

You studiously avoided the employee's surprised look until she gave a jerky nod and retreated towards the front offices. Only then did you realize you'd been holding your breath, letting it escape in a shuddering rush as your shoulders sagged infinitesimally.

"So..." You swallowed hard against the unexpected burst of uneasiness now seizing your nerves. Tentatively, you raised your eyes to meet Osamu's heated regard head-on. "We're really doing this again? Uh, g-getting...a bed together, I mean?"

His expression didn't so much as flicker, maintaining that composed intensity that somehow felt more loaded in the wake of your question. You fought against a sudden urge to squirm under the weight of that smoldering appraisal, abruptly regretting the wobble of uncertainty now coloring your tone.

For several beats, the silence stretched unbearably taut between you. Then, just when you thought you might shatter from the stifling tension, Osamu leaned in until you were practically cross-eyed from his proximity. Until you could make out every subtle shift of gunmetal and amber swirling through his irises, every calloused ridge scoring the seam of his lips as they parted to murmur:

"Baby, if you think I'm gonna put us both through that fresh hell of gettin' separated again...well then, you must be confusin' me with some sorta moron. Because I already updated my life insurance policy. Listed you as the sole beneficiary again. You know, just in case I accidentally choke to death on any more crappy pickup lines I might try on you from now on."

The words were spoken with such dull candor, so utterly devoid of humorous inflection or levity of any kind. Yet the sheer unexpectedness of Osamu's customary deadpan delivery combined with the saccharine endearment and sappy-as-hell promise slammed into you with startling impact.

You stared at him, feeling your lips twitch as incredulous euphoria bubbled up from your core. Osamu's brows furrowed in apparent consternation at your lack of verbal response. But you were powerless to fight against the rising tide as it crested, expelling in a sudden peal of loud, uninhibited laughter that echoed freely through the cavernous showroom.

"You—" You gasped out between wheezing guffaws, clutching at your midsection. "You absolute sap! Did you...really...just say that...with a straight face?"

Osamu's expression remained utterly impassive as you gradually descended into intermittent hiccuping giggles. If anything, his severe features seemed to sharpen even further in affront at having the solemn weight of his declaration demolished so thoroughly.

"Yeah, and what about it?" he growled at last, the underlying gravel of his tone only serving to rekindle your mirth. "That's you spoken for, end of story. I ain't goin' through losin' my goddamn mind again just cause you can't wrap your brain around a simple fact."

His eyes fairly smoldered into yours, lips thinning into a mulish line that should have been intimidating yet only struck you as unutterably endearing in that moment. You reached up without conscious thought, palms cradling the prickly warmth of his jawline as a fresh bubble of giggles escaped on a sigh.

"My big ol' grumpy bear," you murmured through your smiling stupor, thumbs stroking across the sharp ridges of his cheekbones.

Osamu's carefully cultivated scowl faltered infinitesimally as the searing intensity in his gaze transmuted to something softer, more vulnerable. Like he'd just been robbed of his last defenses against the rising swell of cautious optimism blooming between you.

With a low growl that rumbled straight through to your bones, he surged forward and crushed his mouth against yours in a searing reclamation of heated devotion.

The apartment felt almost cavernously silent in the aftermath of your laughter at the furniture showroom. You sank back against the worn cushions of your living room sofa with a contented sigh, the last few giddy giggles tapering off into the warm evening quiet.

Osamu settled in beside you without preamble, one thick arm draped along the back of the couch as his frame angled bodily to face yours. You watched, transfixed, as his piercing slate eyes slowly carved a path from the crown of your head down to your bare toes and back again in one unhurried sweep.

The weighted regard made your skin prickle with rising heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. You recognized that look - the same dark, hungry simmer he used to level your way when you were still newlyweds and Osamu couldn't seem to get enough of simply...observing you existing around him.

"C'mere," he rumbled at last, voice rough as flintstone in a way that liquefied your bones. Without a second's hesitation, you leveraged yourself up and swung one knee over to straddle Osamu's solid thighs, knees sinking into the frayed upholstery on either side of his hips.

His spine straightened at the sudden change in proximity, those brooding steel irises darkening further with naked want. You could actually feel the scorching brand of Osamu's stare skating across the swell of your breasts now devastatingly close to his line of sight, unconsciously squirming a little closer at the intoxicating sensation.

Thick cords of muscle flexed and jumped beneath the sleeves of Osamu's shirt as his hands drifted up to bracket your waist, thumbs stroking idle patterns against the jut of your hipbones. His palms felt like searing manacles as his fingers splayed possessively, fingertips just grazing the soft undercurve of your ass to tug you infinitesimally nearer still.

A throaty sound of pure satisfaction rumbled up from Osamu's barrel chest as your bodies melded flush together, his thick thighs cradling your hips in a scorching vee. You could feel the rapid kick of his pulse stuttering against the notch of your breastbone where it was sealed to his own swiftly rising and falling with quickened breaths.

"Fuck, I missed this..." he rasped in a gruff undertone, the words more felt than heard with how intimately you were entwined. Osamu's knuckles traced the elegant inward curve of your spine through the thin cotton barrier of your shirt. "Missed gettin' to look my fill whenever I wanted, no matter how greedy it made me."

Your nails scored lightly against the nape of his neck, noses brushing in an achingly delicate caress as your mouths hovered infinitesimally apart. "Well you've got your chance now, don't you?" you whispered in return, stomach clenching at the rasp of Osamu's harsh exhale ghosting across your sensitized lips. "All the time in the world to drink your fill again."

His eyes slipped to half-mast, pupils swallowing up nearly all the quicksilver irises in a look of pure, unguarded yearning that stole the air from your lungs. With purposeful leisure, Osamu's broad palms mapped every dip and flare of your torso in slumbering strokes before reversing course. His gaze followed the journey, hooded and predatory, like a man committing every intimate landscape to indelible memory after nearly being rendered sightless.

You found yourself hopelessly captivated in turn by the minuscule changes flickering across Osamu's ruggedly beautiful features as he absorbed you in. The way his jaw tended to tick subtly whenever your upper bodies brushed together with each shared breath. How his brow pinched when large hands found a new swell of softness to reverently mold and explore. And most distractingly, the steady darkening of those piercing grey eyes until you felt pinned and utterly claimed beneath their singularly focused weight.

It wasn't until you felt the first wayward tear searing a path down your flushed cheek that you realized the gravity of what was unfolding between you. More followed in their wake, hot and silent, prompting a low keen of alarm from somewhere deep in Osamu's broad chest.

You smothered the wounded sound with your mouth before he could give voice to his concern, lips parting on a desperate whimper as they crashed together in a searing tangle. Your tears continued unabated even as your bodies writhed and strained closer, cradling Osamu's whiskered jaw between your palms while his calloused digits dug in with bruising possession.

Neither of you pulled back until breathing became a secondary need to sating this newly rekindled inferno raging between your fused frames. Chests heaving in ragged unison, you simply clung to one another through the aftermath - foreheads sealed, noses brushing, lips so closely aligned that the softest whispers could be savored with searing intimacy.

"We're really doin' this for good, aren't we?" Osamu murmured at last, the usually gruff rasp nearly inaudible but rippling through you with sledgehammer impact. You felt his hands - those powerful, work-roughened appendages you'd once admired in daily reverence - tenderly cup the hinge of your jaw. "You and me, all chips in and no more runnin' the second shit gets sideways again..."

Somehow, you managed a jerky nod through the fresh swell of tears rapidly clouding your vision. Osamu drank in the silent confirmation with undisguised adoration and soul-deep longing painted across his chiseled features, thumbs brushing away the molten salt streaking down your cheeks with exquisite tenderness.

"Good," was his only graveled response before tugging you back into another searing, desperate kiss that seared you both straight through to your very marrows.

You surrendered wholly to the scorching tempers of Osamu's questing mouth, fingertips digging harsh furrows into the dense cords of muscle spanning his shoulders and back as you clung on for purchase. The room seemed to tilt and spin dizzyingly in your periphery until the only stable anchors were the unyielding planes of his body and the ravenous sweeps of his tongue claiming you in rough strokes.

Eventually, oxygen deficiency began to pound thick drums in your skull. You tore away with a shuddering gasp, lungs heaving in great draughts of air that did little to steady your racing pulse. Osamu simply watched you through half-lidded eyes, lips curved in a smugly satisfied slant as he dragged the back of his knuckles down your flushed cheek.

"Who'da thought the mighty [Y/N] would be such a crybaby after all these years?" he rasped, black depths glinting with teasing amusement despite his own labored breathing.

You blinked at him owlishly for a moment, still struggling to comprehend anything beyond the electrifying aftershocks of his kisses ricocheting through your nerve endings. "What...?"

The raspy chuckle that rumbled up from Osamu's broad chest vibrated through you in delicious waves, prompting fresh tingles to erupt across your skin. "Don't act like ya don't know what I'm talkin' about, babe," he goaded, leaning in to brush the words directly against the swell of your kiss-bitten lips. "You bawlin' yer pretty eyes out over the dumbest little things. Like that time ya got so hysterical over the snowglobe I gave ya for our first Christmas..."

Recognition instantly dawned, rapidly giving way to a fierce burn of arousal and indignation in equal measure. You immediately attempted to pull back, twisting your torso away from Osamu's heated vicinity as the memories resurfaced with embarrassing clarity.

"Don't you dare bring that up again, Miya!" you huffed, chin jutting mulishly even as mortified tears began prickling the corners of your eyes anew. "It was a sweet, thoughtful gift and the timing couldn't have been more meaningful! I was allowed to be a little emotional over it..."

But Osamu simply crooned in a low tone of unbridled satisfaction, strong arms banding around your waist with sublime indifference to keep you trapped against the scorching brand of his frame. "Sure, bawlin' for a solid hour while puttin' a dent in the couch cushions from hidin' your face was totally proportional to the occasion..."

You attempted to cut him off with a fierce shake of your head, but he easily overpowered your squirming until your bodies were melded together in a seamless wall of unyielding muscle and feverish, tingling softness. Emboldened by your tearful indignation, Osamu simply smirked and pressed his advantage - ducking to brush his whiskered jawline along the fragile tendons straining in your throat.

"Or what about the time yer favorite shitty boyband dropped a new album right before finals week?" he practically purred against your hammering pulse point, teeth grazing wildly sensitive flesh just enough to make you shudder violently. "Pretty sure I had to pick ya up off the floor when ya got so overwhelmed ya passed right the fuck out from blubberin'..."

"Stop it!" you cried in a watery burst, chest hitching with miserable laughter even as you feebly swatted at Osamu's questing hands and wicked mouth. "You're such an ass, bringing up all that ancient history like it means anything!"

But even as you scolded, your thighs instinctively parted to grant him deeper access, spine arching to present your vulnerable throat in clear supplication. Osamu rumbled deep in his chest again - this time a low sound of pure masculine satisfaction that skated like a physical brand across your nerve endings. His broad palms found purchase on the undercurve of your backside, fingertips digging in with delicious urgency until your hips were rocking in a slow, salacious grind against the formidable bulge rapidly taking shape beneath the snug denim.

"So what's got ya cryin' this time?" he growled against the fragile hollow just beneath your ear, trailing heavy open-mouthed kisses downward. "Me finally puttin' a baby in that pretty belly of yours after all these years? Can't think of a better reason to get those waterworks flowin' again if ya ask me..."

The sheer audacity of his words - the carnal filth as much as the undisguised insinuation that this reunion was only the opening salvo to so much more - punched a startled keen of pure, searing need from your very marrow. You twisted with renewed urgency, mouth finding his in a souling embrace of slick heat and tangling tongues as the desperate flames licking between you swiftly roared into an inferno once more.

Osamu kissed you back feverishly, his thick tongue delving deep to taste every corner of your mouth. His large, calloused hands roamed over your body, squeezing and caressing. He broke the heated kiss with a ragged gasp, lips trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck.

"God, I've missed you..." he rasped against your skin, voice dripping with raw need. "Missed the way you taste, the way your body feels against mine."

You shivered at his words, nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as you arched against him wantonly. Osamu groaned deep in his chest, the bulge in his jeans grinding against your core. His hands grasped your hips, guiding you into a slow grind that had you both panting harshly.

"Spent so many fuckin' nights after we divorced just lying there, remembering what it felt like to be inside you," Osamu confessed in a low, gravelly tone. "So deep I couldn't tell where you ended and I began. Thinkin' about it drove me crazy with how much I wanted you back."

A desperate whine spilled from your lips at his words. You hastily pushed his shirt up, desperate to feel his heated skin under your palms. Osamu aided your efforts, quickly stripping the garment off and tossing it aside. His eyes burned with molten intensity as your hands mapped every ridge and muscle of his powerful torso and shoulders.

"Wanted to feel you wrapped so tight around me again," he growled, the rough timbre of his voice sparking liquid heat in your veins. "To get so deep in that velvet pussy until we were both lost to everything but being joined."

You swallowed thickly, body thrumming with need at his filthy words. You knew exactly what he meant - the feeling of being utterly filled and completed by him in the most carnal sense until the world faded away.

Osamu captured your lips in another bruising kiss, all clashing teeth and tangling tongues. His hands roamed over your clothes, desperate to bare more of your feverish skin to his ravenous touch. When you finally parted, you were both panting harshly.

"It felt like I could breathe again when you first called after the divorce," he admitted in a rough rumble, steel-grey eyes boring into yours intensely. "Even though it was just asking for help with some dumb furniture, it was like...like I was still yours when you said my name like that."

You made a choked sound at his confession, heart clenching at the rawness in his tone. Osamu didn't give you a chance to respond, claiming your mouth in another searing kiss that had you melting against his solid frame. His hands found their way under your shirt, calloused palms mapping every inch of newly exposed skin as the kiss turned messy and frantic once more.

Finally, he tore his lips away to mouth hot, open kisses along your jaw. "Soon as I heard your voice, I was already moving without even thinking about it," he panted roughly against the hinge of your jaw. "Out the door and in my car before I could second-guess just like all the other times you needed me."

You gasped shakily in understanding, fingers tunneling through his hair to hold him close. You vividly recalled that first fateful call and Osamu showing up without hesitation, just like he had done a thousand times before when you were still married. Despite the legal separation, some intrinsic part of him was still bound to answer your summons without question.

Osamu pulled back slightly, eyes blazing as he cradled your face in his big palms. "Never stopped being yours, no matter what kinda shit happened between us," he stated simply, calloused thumbs stroking your flushed cheeks. "Always gonna come runnin' when you call, woman. You hear me?"

His raw declaration hung heavy in the charged air between you. You searched his ruggedly handsome features, taking in the grim set of his jaw, the intense heat smoldering in those gunmetal irises. Osamu meant every single word - you could feel the solemn truth behind them down to your bones.

You let out a shaky exhale, fingers splaying against the solid planes of his chest. His heart thundered beneath your touch, a rapid cadence you knew matched your own racing pulse.

"Osamu..." you began, then halted uncertainly. So much still lay unspoken between you beyond the heated admissions of desire and longing. Questions and doubts flickered like candle flames, threatening to undermine the fragile foundation you'd reconstructed.

Sensing your hesitation, Osamu's calloused thumb stroked your cheekbone soothingly. "Just say it," he rasped in that deep timbre that never failed to make you shiver. "Whatever's goin' through that big brain of yours. We're layin' it all out on the table here."

You drew in another fortifying breath, leaning into the solid warmth of his palms cradling your face so tenderly despite the rough calluses scoring your skin. When you finally met his piercing stare again, you found yourself talking without conscious thought.

"I want to try again," you stated plainly, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. "You and me, for real this time. No more separating or letting things fall apart between us."

Osamu's jaw ticked subtly, but he remained silent and impassive, letting you forge ahead unfettered.

"But I need to know you're all in," you continued, willing your voice not to waver. "That you're not just going to take off again if things get tough or we hit another rough patch. Because I can't..." You broke off, blinking rapidly against the burning swell of tears. "I can't survive that a second time, Osamu. Losing you nearly destroyed me."

The anguished admission seemed to reverberate between you, cracking the simmering tension briefly. Osamu's brow creased, eyes softening imploringly as he pulled you flush against his body once more. You went willingly, savoring the steadying anchor of his solid frame and familiar, intoxicating scent.

"Baby, I ain't goin' nowhere," he murmured gruffly against your hairline, one big palm cradling the back of your head. "Should never have left in the first place, no matter how bad shit got between us. That was the biggest mistake of my damn life."

You squeezed your eyes shut at the regret saturating his gravelly rumble, fingers flexing against his skin where they rested against his chest. After a steadying moment, you felt Osamu pull away just enough to lock eyes with you again. His gaze was open and earnest, burning with an intensity that stole your breath.

"I'm all in here," he vowed simply, stroking the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cheekbone. "No more runnin', no more wastin' time apart when we both know there ain't nothin' for me without you by my side. We're gonna make this thing between us work this time, you hear? Even if I gotta spend every day for the rest of my life provin' it to you..."

His words trembled through you with the weighty promise behind them. You searched Osamu's stormy gaze for any hint of prevarication or doubt, but found only steadfast resolution burning there. A dawning smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the vice of uncertainty unclenched around your ribs.

"Well, you'd better get started then," you murmured, shifting to wind your arms around his neck and bring your foreheads together. "Because I'm going to keep putting you through your paces until I'm absolutely certain you're not going to flake out again, Miya Osamu."

Osamu's deep chuckle rumbled against your body, the vibration sending tingles skittering across your sensitized nerves. "Gettin' my ass put through the wringer every day for the rest of forever?" His calloused palms roamed soothingly over the dip of your waist and flare of your hips. "Sounds like my kinda livin' hell, babe."

Unable to resist any longer, you closed the scant distance and sealed your mouths together in a slow, drugging glide of velvet heat. Unlike before, this unhurried press of your lips and tangled tongues spoke to something deeper - a resounding connection and intimacy born from years spent in each other's orbit. It was a familiar kiss that nevertheless sparked fresh flames of passion and hunger, igniting the dormant fire between you with all the raw power and promise of a phoenix rising.

Osamu's broad palms gripped and molded every inch of you they could reach, stoking the building flames further with each hungry sweep and caress. You responded in kind, dragging your fingertips through his silken, ash-brown locks and raking across his scalp with just enough force to make him groan. Your tongues curled and twined as you savored the wet heat and tangling strokes, bodies pressed close enough to feel the thundering cadence of his heart racing against your breastbone.

A sudden surge of impatient desire had you tearing at Osamu's jeans, desperate to feel him fully bared and pliant beneath your wandering palms. He helped you shuck his belt and shove the snug denim down his hips, boxers quickly following until his cock sprang free - swollen and heavy, pulsing with every rapid throb of his hammering pulse. You hummed appreciatively at the sight, wrapping your fingers around the familiar weight and length and giving a few loose, languid pumps.

"Fuck, that's good, baby," Osamu grunted, eyes slipping shut in pleasure. His head fell forward to rest against yours, breath ghosting hot and quick over your flushed cheeks. "Been too long since I felt those pretty little hands on me, missed you so damn much."

Your own eyelids fluttered shut, drinking in the husky, graveled rasp of his voice and the feel of his thick cock twitching against your palm. "I've missed this, too," you murmured, swiping a bead of pre-cum from his tip and using it to slick your hand as you began stroking him with intent. "Missed the feel of you, how good you always made me feel. How perfectly we fit together."

Osamu let out a guttural sound, his hips bucking involuntarily into your touch. He quickly recovered, though, deftly working the fly of your jeans open and pushing them down over the generous curve of your hips. His mouth sought yours again, swallowing your moans as he palmed the generous swell of your ass and squeezed, grinding his rock-hard erection against your belly.

"Let me get my mouth on you, baby," he begged between messy kisses, tongue sweeping deep into the cavern of your mouth. "Wanna taste that pretty pussy of yours, feel you comin' apart on my tongue."

Your entire body jolted at the carnal filth spilling from his kiss-swollen lips. You'd always had a weakness for his wickedly talented mouth, and the prospect of it licking and devouring you like some succulent feast had you instantly slick and throbbing. But tonight, you wanted something else entirely.

"Later," you breathed against the corner of his mouth, nipping his bottom lip sharply before pulling back. Osamu's pupils were blown wide with desire, his gaze burning hotter than the sun as he stared at you uncomprehendingly. You couldn't help the wicked smirk curling the edges of your mouth.

"Tonight, I want you buried inside me," you declared bluntly, delighting in the way his eyes went hazy with lust. You let go of his cock long enough to wiggle out of the confining denim and kick the jeans aside, then immediately grasped his hand and guided it between your legs.

"Want you filling me up, fucking me until I'm sore and aching," you continued, biting your lip as his fingers parted your slick folds. The first teasing brush against your clit had your entire body bowing and thighs clenching, but you forced yourself to meet Osamu's scorching stare once more. "Making sure I'm thoroughly bred, so I can never forget who I belong to ever again."

For a moment, all Osamu could do was gape at you in mute astonishment. Then his nostrils flared, pupils blown so wide the blackness nearly eclipsed the steel-grey of his irises entirely. A low, animalistic growl ripped from his chest, and the next thing you knew, his mouth was slanted over yours and his thick fingers were pumping into your molten core.

"Fucking hell, woman, what're ya tryin' to do to me?" he snarled between biting, desperate kisses. His free hand found purchase on the swell of your breast, squeezing roughly before rolling and pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. "Gonna be the goddamn death of me with that dirty mouth."

You arched into his touch, panting heavily as he worked you higher. His long, thick fingers stroked and rubbed your sensitive inner walls, coaxing wave after wave of slick honey from your throbbing channel. You writhed against him, hands scrabbling for purchase on the corded muscles of his shoulders.

"Please, Samu, I need you inside me," you moaned, hips bucking against his hand. He cursed harshly, fingers stilling inside you for a moment. Then he withdrew, making quick work of the buttons on your blouse before yanking it down your arms and tossing the garment aside. He followed up with your bra, leaving you bare before him save for your panties.

"Look at you, all soft and pliant, ready to take me," Osamu growled, calloused hands skating reverently over the curve of your belly and hips. "Finally gonna make me a daddy, huh?"

He dipped his head, latching onto the supple flesh of your breast and suckling deeply. Your hands found their way into his hair again, fingers digging into his scalp as you moaned wantonly. When he finally released your breast, he blew gently over the stiff peak, causing it to pucker even more.

"You know you can never go back once you have my baby," he continued, trailing open-mouthed kisses across the valley of your breasts and up the column of your throat. "No other man would ever measure up after that. You'd be ruined for anyone else, just like I was the first time I was inside you."

You keened sharply at his possessive, primal words, head falling back to grant him better access. "Good," you gasped, nails scoring the planes of his back and shoulders. "Because I've never wanted anyone else, Samu. It's only ever been you."

He groaned against the shell of your ear, grinding his thick, heavy length against the damp fabric still concealing your aching core. "You're damn right, and it's always gonna stay that way."

One powerful hand found purchase on the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place as he devoured your mouth with bruising, punishing kisses. At the same time, his other hand slipped between you, ripping away the final barrier separating your bodies. The shredded material was summarily discarded, and you barely had a chance to draw breath before he was lining up and plunging home.

"Ride me, sweetheart. Just like you used to."

The command was a deep, resonating purr against your feverish skin, one that sent a shiver dancing down the notches of your spine. A whimper escaped your throat, fingers flexing against Osamu's muscular back. You could already feel his length pulsing inside you, stretching and filling you to the brim with that familiar, delicious ache.

"Fuck, that's perfect," Osamu hissed between his teeth, his head tipping back and eyes slamming shut as you began to roll and undulate against him. You were already impossibly wet and aching, his thick, swollen shaft bottoming out with each fluid pump and grind of your hips. He was seated so deep and full inside you, it felt as though there wasn't a single molecule of space between your bodies.

You couldn't help but agree.

"You feel so good," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed at the delicious stretch. You shifted slightly, finding the best angle to allow the bulbous head of his cock to graze and stroke the sensitive cluster of nerves hidden deep within your slick channel. "So big and hard inside me, splitting me open. Like you were made for me."

Osamu's rough chuckle vibrated against your chest. He dropped a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing the tender flesh. "Damn straight, I'm made for you," he affirmed, voice muffled against your skin. "Just like you were made for me. Fuckin' perfect, we are."

You sighed in contentment, arching into his touch. Your hands skated over the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders, reveling in the familiar sensation of his solid, warm frame and the taut lines of his body moving against yours. The scent of his skin - that intoxicating, masculine musk and subtle hints of spice and citrus - enveloped you completely, filling your senses and flooding every corner of your mind.

The room quickly filled with the slick, obscene sounds of your coupling - the wet squelch of your joined bodies, the breathy sighs and ragged grunts as you both raced toward the edge. Your bodies were in perfect sync, instinctively attuned to each other despite the years apart. Every roll and thrust, every shift and cant of your hips, was matched and amplified by his.

It wasn't long before the coil of pleasure in the pit of your stomach began winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. Your breath was coming in short, gasping pants, nails digging into the taut sinews of Osamu's shoulders as you clutched him tighter. He sensed the subtle shift in the air, and a low growl rumbled in his chest.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured, calloused palms cradling the sides of your neck and jaw. His piercing stare was focused entirely on you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart trip over itself. "Never knew what I did to deserve a woman like you, but I'll spend every day of my life tryin' to live up to it."

The raw vulnerability in his deep, graveled rumble tugged sharply at your heartstrings. A trembling breath spilled from your lips, eyes prickling with sudden emotion. You reached up, mirroring his hold as you gently cradled his rugged features.

"You don't have to be anyone other than who you are, Osamu," you assured him, voice thick with the swell of emotions roiling in your chest. "Just...just be with me. That's all I've ever needed."

A beat of silence passed between you, a suspended moment that seemed to stretch an eternity. Then, like a thread snapping, Osamu's expression crumbled, and he crushed his mouth to yours. The kiss was desperate, hungry, conveying everything unsaid with a ferocity that threatened to consume you whole.

"I love you, Y/N," he panted roughly between biting kisses, calloused palms roaming restlessly over the bare expanse of your back and shoulders. "Fuck, I love you so goddamn much."

Tears pricked your eyes, the lump in your throat thick and hot. "I love you, too," you choked out, kissing him again and again. Your bodies never faltered, the slick slide and pump of his thick cock still pistoning in and out of your molten core.

When Osamu finally pulled back, his pupils were blown wide and black with hunger. "Come for me, beautiful," he urged, thumb slipping between you to circle and rub your swollen clit. "Need to feel you milkin' my cock, wanna feel you cum all over me."

The tension in your belly snapped, white-hot pleasure surging through you like lightning. You cried out, the sound swallowed up by his ravenous mouth. Your cunt spasmed around him, gripping his pulsing shaft and wringing him dry.

Osamu came with a guttural snarl, his body seizing and jerking against yours as his hips pistoned erratically. Thick ropes of seed splashed against your womb, painting your walls and filling every nook and cranny. He kept pumping through his climax, drawing out both your orgasms for as long as possible.

You were both boneless and panting when it was over, limbs tangled together and foreheads pressed close. The heat of the moment was slowly dissipating, replaced by the steady thud of your hearts and the soothing warmth of his bare skin against yours.

Osamu's thumb brushed the swell of your cheek, calloused pads smoothing the lingering tracks of tears. "What's the verdict, babe?" he murmured, dark brows pinching together slightly.

Your own lips twitched in a small smile. "I think you've made a pretty compelling argument so far, Miya," you quipped lightly, then leaned in to kiss him. "But you know, they say it takes a few rounds to really make sure a job's done right."

He chuckled, a low, husky rumble that made the heat stirring in the pit of your belly flare to life once more. His mouth curved into a crooked smirk, the glint in his eyes promising wicked delights and the fulfillment of many, many desires.

"Guess we'll just have to keep tryin' until it takes then, yeah?"

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Nonsense

Synopsis: While on the brink of death, you confess your greatest burden to Rex. He always had a crush on you, so he decides that at his final moments, he should grant both of your last wishes… Until Invincible saves you.

You go on with your life, but Rex can't seem to forget what you did under that rock.

Pairing: Rex Sloan X Gn!Reader

Tw: Mentioned sex a lot, but no description, except a mention of multiple orgasms; Mentioned virginity loss; Mentioned dying; Mentioned self deprecation; Mentioned loneliness; Unrequited love on Rex's part until the end; Happy ending; Despair; Reader is a late bloomer, that makes them insecure, and their perception of dating is skewed because of that; Drunk confession; Mentioned past cheating (it's Rex guys); English isn't my first language.

Word count: 4,5k

Requested? Nope.

Extra notes: Imagine Rex singing Nonsense instead of Sabrina Carpenter. Divider

General masterlist

The urge to laugh is too strong, no matter how hard you try to hold it in, it bubbles from your guts until it's spilling from your mouth and echoing around the hole you're stuck in. It's inappropriate, you know it is, and you're not sure how your colleague might feel about that.

But it's your death too, so you think you can react however you want.

“What the fuck? Are you going crazy on me now?!” Rex, so eloquently, exclaimed. It just makes you crackle harder, tears swiftly starting to leak from your eyes.

“It's just- HAHA- it's funny! In- In a- HA- really fucked way… HAHAHA!” Rex stared at you with wide eyes, weirded out, and almost afraid of you.

“Hot stuff, hmm… I know I’m not the most gracious dude you know but…” He turned his head from one side to the other, looking around. “We’re about to die here, I don't think it's funny.” He crossed his arms. “And I’m trying to escape this shithole we’re stuck in. I’m gonna be pissed if you just keep sitting there and giggling.” He scowled.

You kept giggling.

“It's just… I’m a fucking loser!” You threw your head back, tears streaming down faster. “I’m about to die a virgin! HA!” You clapped your hands when your eyes started burning, trying to coax more genuine tears from laughing instead of crying.

Rex blinked.

“You… Uhhh…?”

“I’m about to die! And I never even had sex before! HA!” Suddenly, the giggles became so forced that the signals of an approaching headache made themselves known inside your skull. “I was just a lab rat! I’ve never ever lived anything! Never dated anyone…” The urge to cry got stronger as your heart constricted, and the situation didn't seem all that funny anymore. “And I’m still a virgin…” You sniffed, uselessly trying to wipe your face with both hands, a little too aggressively. Crying was no worth when death was knocking at your door. Rex winced.

“Oh man… I’m so sorry-”

“AND I’M STUCK HERE WITH THE BIGGEST WHORE I KNOW!”

Rex frowned and pursed his lips.

“Hey! That was not cool… Fair. I guess. But not cool…” Rex sighed, walked towards you, and dropped down to sit by your side. You giggled harder, clapping weakly, eyes closed.

“AND HE NEVER EVEN FLIRTED WITH ME! HAHAHA- HAHA- HA. Ha. Ha…”

Silence overtook the hole for a minute, broken only by you sniffing.

Getting buried to death by Doc Seismic would've been quicker. But getting stuck in a 8x8 feet hole after an earthquake he caused, not being able to get out despite both having superpowers, and then suffocating to death, was almost as humiliating as dying a virgin. Almost.

You were so far below that you couldn't even hear the fight anymore, you only could wish you wouldn't be dead by the time someone found you both. You knew having powers that need to be charged by sunlight would fuck you up one day. And of course Murphy’s Law would cause you to be stuck with a guy whose powers were also useless in this situation, because Rex either would've exploded you both, or caused the rocks above you to shift and crush you faster.

You snorted at the thought.

“Am I ugly?” You blurted out one of the thoughts that crossed your mind sometimes, when loneliness and self deprecation decided to torture your mind a little, and you found yourself getting jealous of people in positions you didn't even wanna be in. Because of course you didn't want to be Eve, and get cheated on multiple times by Rex, or Kate, and her dating dynamics that just weren't what you felt was for you, or even Amanda, that didn't even have to do anything to make a guy so whipped for her, that he decided to look like a kid just to be with her while her curse of forever looking like a child still had a hold over her life. But at least… At least they were wanted.

Rex's eyes widened again.

“WHAT? NO! What the hell? Of course not! You're hot. You're… Beautiful. Hey, don't feel bad about an asshole like me never hitting on you. Guys like me, we just… We never go for people we think are out of our league. We go for accessibility. And you're… Shit, you're the most intimidating person I’ve ever met… In a good way.” You rolled your eyes.

“Atom Eve is not ‘mid’, you jackass.” Rex shook his head.

“Didn't say she was, honestly she's not even my type. I mean, anyone could see that we weren't meant to be together. I just dated her because she came onto me first…” You deadpanned him, unimpressed to be hearing this during your final moments. “Don't look at me like that! We're cool now! We talked about it and she agreed we weren't good. Plus, she's with Mark now…” Your shoulders slumped, defeated, not a single ounce of fight left. “... And if we're gonna point fingers, she was into him while she was with me! So, I’m not totally guilty here…” You gave him the stinky eye, because he was cheating on her at the time. “... Just 98%...”

You sighed, looking away. Staring at nothing. Head empty. Just disappointed.

“Whatever…”

Rex cleared his throat.

“Why is it such a big deal anyway? Sure, you're kind of a loser. Not by my standards!” His voice raised at that. “I don't really care ‘bout that… Never heard anyone saying that sex is overrated? Because it is! Look at me. I used sex all the time just to feel better about myself. All in the past, of course. I’m a changed man.”

You huffed, almost bored, but thankful for the distraction. At this point, you felt hollow. Absolutely empty. Nothing could affect you anymore. For better or worse. You were gonna die anyway.

“Everyone says it's overrated, but that's because everyone has sex… I’m just… Touch starved, I guess. And lonely… I can't remember the last time someone hugged me. Or wanted to spend time with me. Or looked at me. I only held hands with someone, romantically, once. On a double date I was just because someone needed to bring a friend.” You sighed. “Everyone says I’m beautiful, but people don't try to talk to me. No one tries to get my number. And I’ve never even reached the talking stage. All my friends are dating, while I’m just the odd one out…” You pursed your lips. “And everyone tries to give advice by saying ‘the right person will come if you stop looking’, or ‘at the right time’, or ‘you don't need it anyway’. But that's not what bothers me. None of those things are problems to people who don't care. I live my life. I don’t search for it. I don't spend my days thinking about it. I’m not the most romantic person you’ll ever meet… But I’m horny. And alone. I don't need anyone interested in me. But it would be nice to have someone trying every once in a while…” You shrugged your shoulders. “And honestly, it makes me feel insecure. I feel bad thinking I might date someone in the future and they’ll say ‘I don't have a problem with (Y/N)’s exes, because I’m their first’ as if that's a prize, or a quality. No one is worth enough to be that important. But people who are in love say you don't regret those things if you're with the right person. Well, I’m a full grown adult now, and this person never showed up. Maybe they never will. And I’ll end up being a 42 year old loner who everyone pities, and no one understands why I’m alone. I know I would be great. I know I’m a keeper. But… When you get used to being alone, you don't know how to stop. So I guess my viewing on dating is also skewed from that.” You rolled your eyes when they burned again. “And people my age give me weird looks when I say I have so little experience. Because it's not normal. I’m not normal. That's how I feel. I'm weird. There's something wrong with me.” You blew a raspberry, contrasting to the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Not that it matters anymore. We're about to die… FUCK YOU SEISMIC!”

You slumped back against the wall so lazily that your body slid down the rock and dirt underneath you until you were laying down. Your eyes closed shut, ashamed at having vented to someone like Rex, who certainly didn't need to hear about all your paranoias caused by your own mind, and neither understood it.

You spent the few next minutes in silence, and it was horrible to find out that you at least could feel embarrassment.

Rex tugged his mask and goggles off, deposited them on the ground on his other side, took his gloves off and did the same. Then he ran a hand through his ginger and sweaty hair, before tying it in the bun he always wore.

“I could… Help you?” He asked, tentatively.

You whipped your head in Rex's direction, eyes wide, as if you just heard the most absurd idea ever.

“What?”

“Yeah… There's nothing wrong with you, (Y/N). Maybe you’re just unlucky, or maybe everyone is as afraid of you as I am… But, if you're up for it, it would be an honor to spend my last minutes tangled with you. And you would know what it's like to have sex. Not to brag, but I’m quite good at it too, I’m sure you've heard before, so you're in good hands.” He shrugged with a little smile. “No pressure.”

He said no pressure, but when he looked at you like that, it was impossible not to feel compelled. Tan skin, red hair in a slutty bun, thick eyebrows, wide and bright green eyes, meaty lips, each corner pointing up in a grin that assured you everything was going to be fine.

And that's how it happened. That's how you lost your virginity. Between a rock and a hard place.

Minutes later, Invincible rescued you both.

“What does he have that I don't?” Rex glared daggers at the random agent from the GDA you were talking to. Too flirty, in his opinion.

“Hm?” Mark asked, not really paying attention.

“That old geezer (Y/N)’s talking to.” The ginger pointed at him, obnoxiously as ever. Mark’s eyes widened and he begged at the other with his eyes to stop.

“Stop pointing! They’ll see!” Rex just brought his other hand up and flipped at the guy’s back with both hands. Mark groaned and grabbed his arms, forcing them down. “Maybe he's more polite?! I don't know. Why do you care?”

Rex groaned louder than him. Some people around turned their attention on the two of them momentarily, including you. But that was just for a second, before you shrugged your shoulders and you dismissed him. Again. The ginger deflated at losing your attention once more.

“Oh, so he's better than me because his parents raised him?! Nice one, Mark.” He scoffed. “He’s just a stupid fucking nerd cocksucker who works on finance, wears a toupee, lives with his mom and wouldn't even be able to get his micro dick hard on front of someone like (Y/N).”

“... Okay?” Mark crossed his arms. “I thought you were different now.” He lifted an eyebrow. Rex scowled.

“I am! I just- just…” Rex stuttered. “... It doesn't make sense!” He basically screamed, pointing again, exasperated, with both arms out. Mark face-palmed with a sigh, ignoring the eyes on them again.

“Rex… Do you like them?” Rex’s green eyes widened at that, his heart fell to his feet, his muscles froze for a second and a half.

“What? I- no. No, of course not.” His voice came out thinner and higher than usual. Mark tillted his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure? Yes! Yes, I am. Why? Does it look like I ain't?” He scoffed again with a grimace, crossing his arms protectively around himself.

“Kinda.”

“Well, you're wrong!”

“Mhm. Was it out of nowhere or did something happen between you two?”

“Pfff, fuck off.” Mark shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay.” He turned to leave, but Rex stopped him before he could.

“I can't say what happened, past me would, because I was a jerk, which I’m not anymore, but something happened, I just won't say what.” Invincible sighed and rubbed his face.

“And did you talk about it with them?”

“Of course not!”

“You should.”

Rex cried out.

“Terrible advice. Horrible. Shitty. You're the worst friend ever!”

Mark shook his head.

“Then nothing will change! Just think about it. Use your new maturity.” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize his point, while Rex pouted. “It's okay to be jealous, man. But to get them, you have to talk to them.” He patted his shoulder. “Took me long enough to understand that, but you’ll get there.”

Rex let out all the air on his lungs, staring at you with longing. He chewed on the interior of his cheek when he watched you write your number on the guy's hand with a pen you snatched from his chest pocket.

“... You're right. Thanks, man.” Rex mumbled with his jaw tense and fists closed tight. “I’ll talk to them.”

Mark watched wearily as the redhead stumped all the way down the room to get to you. He winced at the prospect of what would happen, but ultimately decided to give his friend a chance, and just wait.

“HEY JACKASS!”

“Oh no…” He mumbled, wincing.

You blinked as you looked up at your colleague approaching, looking furious.

“Oh hey, Rex, what's up?”

“You!” He shoved his pointer finger against the guys's chest. “(Y/H/N) doesn't like ugly bald assholes! Get out of here before I beat you and shove a bomb up your-”

“REX!” You slapped his chest, then watched, speechless, as the poor guy scrambled away from you. “Why’d you do that? He's not even bald…”

“Heh, cutie, you don't know guys like I do. You have a long way ahead yet. You started off just fine with me.” He pointed his two thumbs at his chest, proudly. “I get that it's hard to find someone on my level to compete with for your second time, but please, don't insult yourself by giving ugly losers a chance.” He puffed his chest out. You blinked, mouth falling open.

“... Okayyyy? That actually wasn't going to be the second? That time with you helped me a lot, thanks by the way, I’m way more confident now and I think it shows.” You shrugged. “I went on three dates already and two of them are obsessed with me.” You laughed easily. “Still weird to talk about it though, never thought I'd say something like that, but yeah. Thanks again.”

You patted his chest and walked away.

Mark walked in Rex's direction after he watched you distance yourself from him.

“Mark. That didn't work. You told me it would work.”

“... You look like a kicked puppy. It's… Weird…” He blinked, and crossed his arms. “Also, what you did, that's not what I meant.” He shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“... Did you hear anything?”

He shook his head again.

“Just the part where you screamed at that innocent guy, you should get sued for harassment.”

Rex huffed.

“What do I do now?”

“Try again. Nicer this time.”

“Here. Coffee for you.” Rex left a cup in front of you.

“But I don't drink coffee?” He blushed as red as his hair, so hard that the roseness showed through his tan skin.

“Since when?!”

“Since always?!” You stared at him, confused.

“... Okay. Noted.” You stared at each other in silence, for a moment. “... Let's go on a date!” He blurted.

“What? Why?” You jumped from your seat, shocked out of your sockets.

“Because we had sex!”

“You had sex with half the people you know!”

“Not anymore! Not- not since you.”

You sighed deeply, praying for patience, and holding your eyes from rolling inside your skull, purely out of the kindness on your heart.

“Rex, we can't go out.” Rex’s jaw fell, bewildered.

“W-W-Why not?”

“Because- Are you kidding me? Is this a joke?!” You gestured wildly, as if the answer was obvious. “Why do you want to go out with me?” You placed your hands on your hips and raised your eyebrows, inquiring for a logical answer.

“... Because I’m into you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, sexually. I know you are. We had sex under a rock, you came three times, it was kinda obvious you were attracted to me.” Rex shook his head hastily.

“No! Not like that. I… I think I’m in love with you…” Silence reigned over the room for a couple moments, that felt like an eternity for both of you. You didn't even want to give him an answer, because what do you say to something like that? To someone like him? As for Rex… “... Can't you say something already?!” He exclaimed while shaking his hands, sounding pissed off, but actually desperate.

“... You're not in love with me.” You stated.

“Yes, the fuck I am?”

“No, the fuck you aren't. You might be in love with my guts. Or with intimacy. Or the attention. Or you're having a trauma response to almost dying, and got emotionally dependent on me because I was there, and we kind of comforted each other. But you are not in love with me.” You shook your head, sporting a serious countenance and hugging your torso protectively.

“(Y/N)... That's what you think of me?” You blinked.

“... I don't know. Yes? No? Maybe?” You shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “What I think doesn't matter. Even if you're a good guy now, I know my luck. You think you're in love with me now because I gave you some attention, and we had sex, and we were on the brink of death.” Rex tried to interrupt you, but you raised your hand, he took a step forward but you took a step back. “But it’s not real. You’ll be entertained with me for a while, then we’ll run out of things to talk about because you're not that interested anymore, and you're just gonna look for me for sex, and then I’m gonna feel like everyone pities me and thinks I’m stupid for being with you, for thinking I actually had a chance at a relationship. And I'll feel like that too. And then it's going to end.” You took another step back, and he took a step forward, his expression looking more crestfallen the more you looked bothered, hurt and defensive, while trying to hide. “You don't want me, Rex. You just want someone. And you might genuinely want someone else, one day. But that person is not me.” You straighten your posture, kicking your vulnerability away, and willing every ounce of determination to show. “Again, thank you for taking that weight off my back, and for making it fun, but don't think for a second I had any hope or intention that it would turn into more than just sex.”

“(Y/N)...”

You faked the same friendly smile you always give everyone, trying your hardest to pretend everything is okay, the future isn't weird, and nothing has changed.

“If you wanna be friends with benefits, that's cool with me.” You shrugged, and walked away to lock yourself in your room.

Rex didn't talk to you again for a while, and you were okay with that. If he was going to act like an idiot, then he could do it away from you. Meanwhile, you distracted yourself with training with the other Guardians, saving people, enjoying time alone — as you were used to —, and sometimes indulging in the attention of those guys you got out of luck, at least while it lasted. Good things were rare for you, so you usually just took what you could get. That didn’t mean you were going to humiliate yourself for crumbs, and that's surely what any ill intentioned person will try to give you

That is, until your peace was disturbed in the middle of the night. You had a hunch about who was knocking on your door, but you were rooting for the possibility that it was just Rudy calling you for an emergency.

But it wasn't, it was Rex. And he was drunk.

“Look… I don't care what you think…” The redhead was so out of it that he needed to hold on the threshold so as not to fall, while the other held his beer and pointed a finger in your general direction. “If I said I’m in love with you… I’m in love with you…” He lost balance for a second, but got a hold of it soon enough. “I’ve never said that to anyone… Anyone… You can… Ask around…” His eyes closed, surely heavy.

“Rex, go to your room.” You mustered all the patience in the world to utter those words as calmly as you could manage.

“No… Now you're gonna… Hear me…” He opened his eyes and chugged the rest of his drink, shooking you to your core. “You blame me… You blame other people… You blame yourself… You blame everyone…” You crossed your arms and tapped your foot at how long it was taking him to formulate sentences. “But the truth is… You can have everything you’ve ever wanted…” He tilted his head, probably because of how heavy it felt. “With me…”

You sighed, exasperated.

“Go to sleep!” You insisted.

“With you?” He giggled, and before you could say anything, he somehow managed to stumble inside your room. You guess it would be the easiest thing to push him out, but you were too nice to watch him fall in the middle of the corridor, despite having too little patience to take care of him throughout the rest of the night. The goal was to get rid of him as soon as possible.

“No, not with me! In your own room! Alone!”

“You're jealous baby? You shouldn't be… I only have eyes for you…” He fell on your bed, basically dead weight, and you wondered if he passed out. “My body is yours…”

You huffed, uncrossed your arms, and tried to pull him out of your bed by pulling on one of his arms, but he was too heavy, and not even in the slightest controlling his weight to help you. You don't even think it's out of pettiness, just drunkness.

“Shut up and get out of here.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not perfect… I’m not the best you could get… But I want you… You can…” His face was planted in your mattress, causing his Voice to come out muffled. “Gimme a chance… You're hot…”

“Tsk.”

“But not only that…” Rex turned his head to the side to look at you, looking more awake now, just a little. “You're way, waaayyy out of my league… You're smart and… A-And great…” He blinked slowly. His face was squished against the mattress, causing his full lips to pout, while he stared almost dreamily at you. “Y-You asked me… T-That day… You asked me why I never hit on you… You came straight out of my dreams… And I… I didn't want to get rejected…” He groaned, closed his eyes, and scrunched his face, as if having a bad memory, or a migraine. You hoped he wasn't getting sick. “But then w-we had sex… And it was fucking amazing!” He blew a raspberry. “Just to reject me later.” He sighed deeply.

“And?” You rolled your eyes.

At this point, you just gave up on lifting him for now, and sat down next to his torso on the bed, wondering how to convince him to fuck off out of your room

Sitting down proved to be a bad idea when he inched closer to lay his head on your lap, nuzzling your thighs.

“Don't run from me, baby… I know I’m an idiot… But I’m trying my best to change… Taking constructive criticism and… Respecting opinions… And all…” He left a delicate, barely there, but reverent nonetheless, kiss on your thigh. “And you deserve only the best… Of the best…” He sniffed. “D-Don’t go for a dick l-like Immortal…” Rex lightly nibbled on your flesh, on the same place he left that peck, so delicately that he was basically running his teeth along your skin. “You deserve someone like Mark… And I’m trying to be more like him…” He pouted and frowned as if you had given him an answer he didn't like, but his eyes were still closed. “One chance… Just… You deserve to be loved… You're… The exact opposite of the old me and everything I did… I never wanted to hurt you with that… You're… A constant… You're… Safe… You're… Reliable… You're just… Genuine, and special like that…”

He fell silent suddenly, and you sighed, not really sure which course of action you should take, and even thinking he fell asleep. Until he spoke again, spooking you even.

“Just because it didn't happen yet… Doesn't mean you can't be loved…” He slowly cracked his eyelids open and, with great effort to balance his head, looked up at you. “Please baby, don't say something like that again, it's just… Not true… And I’m gonna… Beat anyone who made you think that…” You let out a weak, wet laugh you didn't even know was on your throat, and swallowed, suddenly finding yourself emotional, while amused, just because of his last words. He looked like a puppy, looking up at you like that. Damn pretty boys. “I know you're lonely… I’m lonely too… We can be… Lonely together… Or whatever cliche shit people say to something like that…” He closed his eyes again, and nuzzled his face on your skin once again, seemingly satisfied to stay there.

Rex let out a soft, happy hum, when you, hesitantly, lifted your hand from the mattress to his mess of red hair, and started rubbing your fingernails against his sensitive scalp without damaging his bun. Sending tingles through his nerves and warming his insides more than the heat from his explosions ever could.

“Rex…”

“Let's just try… Please… If it doesn't work out, that's okay… But… We’re both… Tired of being alone…” You felt your eyes sting. “I know I’m an idiot… But we have to… Try…”

You felt the moment he actually fell asleep, dozing off on your lap, leaving the both of you in a literal and metaphorical uncomfortable position, that would surely leave you regret and pain the next day.

But as you looked down at him, it was just like that day again. Dark and uncomfortable. You feeling desperate while focusing on his stupidly handsome face, with his tan skin, aquiline nose, messy red hair, full lips, dimpled chin, thick eyebrows and long lashes. Part of you wished he would just open his eyelids and look at you with those innocent, sad green orbs again.

And just like that day, you decided to give him a chance.

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[chrisbesitos]

MORE 21 YR CHRIS W 19 YR READER PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 IM BEGGINGGGGG

chris helps his girlfriend when she feels displaced with his friends.

"This party was sooo good!" A girl said, the triplets were throwing a party in their house. Y/N is not a big fan of parties, but she agreed to go. "Do you remember, Chris?"

"Yeah, it was good." He replied hugging his girlfriend's shoulder, she wasn't talking too much, she was just listening to them.

"Have you been there, Y/N? I don't remember seeing you there, in reality I don't remember anything."

"Oh, no. I don't go to parties actually." Y/N gave a small smile, looking down and laying her head on Chris' shoulder. The girl laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot you're a kid." Then everyone laughed, Y/N felt embarrassed.

"Stop with this." Chris said, holding his girl harder.

"Sorry, Chris, it's just hard to have a conversation with someone who was at high school until last year."

Y/N was looking at her hands, playing with her fingers. She wasn't comfortable, actually parties made her feel like that, since she's not a big fan of crowded places with loud noises and people she doesn't know. But she agreed to go out with Chris, because she wanted to be a good girlfriend.

Chris seems mad, while Y/N was distracted with her fingers and own thoughts, Chris made his friends change the subject and stop talking about his girlfriend. But the damage was already made.

"I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back." She whispered to Chris, he nodded and gave a peck on her lips.

Instead of going to the bathroom, Y/N made her way downstairs, going to Chris' room. She was tired of them. Y/N closed the door and sat in the bed, she tugged of her shoes and tucked her legs under the blanket.

It didn't take too much for Chris to realize she wouldn't come back, so he dismissed his friends and made his way to his room. He opened the door and looked at his girlfriend on the bed, Chris made a pouty on his lip while he got in. Y/N cleaned the tears on her face and Chris sighed.

"You're not having fun, right? I'm sorry, I should've known." Chris said while he sat in the corner of the bed, Y/N shake her shoulders keep looking down.

She was upset and wasn't going to hide this from Chris, because it was his friend's fault. He tugged his snickers out, he sat by her side and pulled her legs to his lap. Chris rubbed her tights, feeling really sorry about what happened.

"I should've known they would be idiots, I don't know why I still hang out with them."

"I'm not a big fan of parties either, I was uncomfortable and I should've said no."

"It's not your fault, you know that." Chris cleaned her tears on her cheeks, he pulled her to sit on his lap. "I should've taken care of you better, I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, I'm okay." She smiled, hugging Chris' neck and then she gave a kiss on his lips. "You don't have to stay here with me. I'll be okay."

"You really think I'm going to trade a good time with my princess to stay with drunk people?"

Chris stayed in his room with Y/N by the rest of the night, they watched her comfort movie. He knows sometimes she feels displaced by her age, but he always finds a way to make her feel better and loved.

i don't know why i write an angst blurb, but i was in the mood. plus being a girl with social anxiety, i wish he makes me feel comfortable when i feel displaced in crowded places 😞

Tags: @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy

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[jjjjisun]

The Concert

Eunha X Male Reader | 11571 words

TW: Incest

—

"See ya mom!" my little sister Eunha shouted as she headed out the door.

She was going to her friend Umji's for a sleepover or something. If you asked me, the little denim skirt she was wearing under her poor-attempt-to-cover-it jacket said Umji's parents probably weren't home and it probably wasn't going to be just her and the other girls. More likely it would involve as much booze as high school kids could get their hands on and a bunch of horny teenagers leering at my little sister's outfit. I cringed at the thought, but she'd gotten past my parents so... whatever, I wasn't going to cause trouble.

Truthfully, I wasn't being completely honest with my parents either. Then again, they wouldn't get nearly as upset with me if I wasn't telling the truth as Eunha. I was in college and she was in high school. After all the shit I'd pulled in my senior year, my little sis was unlikely to get away with anything. She was lucky to sneak by without them seeing what she was wearing as she walked out the door. Her bare legs weren't exactly easy to miss.

It wasn't the first time either. Only two weeks ago I'd found Eunha passed out on the back stoop to our house. Obviously she knew some of the same tricks as I; if you were just quiet enough when opening the back door you could avoid walking past our parents' room on the way to your own after curfew.

I was on my way in and there was my little sis "sleeping" with her head against the post as if she'd just decided to take a seat on the way in, or so she told me when I shook her awake. But before I did... well I couldn't just un-see what she was wearing; besides, I hadn't the wits to complain. A little skirt that was fanned out where she sat, a snug cotton tank top that's black in color complemented her skin perfectly... she looked cute. I remember thinking then that if she was just another girl at the party I was coming from I probably would have tried to take her home.

That night she had gotten a little too drunk and walked home; she needed every bit of the support I offered as I took her upstairs to bed. Though that night was no different than the two or three times before when I'd found her in a similar state, I hoped she would finally take my advice not to come home so drunk again. Maybe next time I wouldn't be there to sling her over my shoulder on the way up the stairs. And I don't know many guys who would have covered her up so our parents didn't see her clothes all bunched around her chest and waist after I'd dropped her drunken self on the bed.

I think she knew I had done it, because she was especially nice to me that next day. I guess we understood each other better than I thought sometimes. It was probably the same reason that we exchanged that glance of knowing when we heard each other's answers to the question "what are your plans tonight?" from our dad. Sure I had the brotherly instinct to be worried about her in that outfit she couldn't quite hide under her coat. But I wouldn't stand in her way I was sure she'd be smart... enough.

And that was pretty much the last thought I had of her after I walked out the door. I took my truck over to my friend Minho's where we were meeting a few more friends. Minho had gotten us four tickets to an outdoor concert and our other three friends were going to try and sneak in - it wasn't too hard anyway. As soon as we were all loaded in the cab and truck bed both, a couple of cases of beer tucked between legs, we took off to a place a few miles outside the city.

When we got there of course the drinking started. there was more booze than I thought; I knew I'd have to leave my car behind. We all agreed to meet back at Mina's house where apparently nobody was home and then it was off to the front gate. Mina's friend Momo had caught my eye so I made sure to be near her when we went past the gate and inevitably lost a few stragglers. Momo was a tiny brunette with way bigger tits than I would have expected - probably due to a helpful bra. Her cute face didn't hurt but damn... I wondered if she had caught me staring one of the few times I couldn't take my eyes off her chest.

But once I got in... whoa... I didn't worry too much that Momo would be my go-to girl for the night because there were thousands of others. Hundreds...thousands, well I guess I am not great at approximating numbers but the venue was probably bigger than a football field in total. I saw the back fence where my friends would likely try and get in and headed to it.

"You jerk..." I heard from the bushes while standing there flirting with Momo.

It was Mina followed by a smiling Sung, the most drunk of our bunch that night, and I could tell he had just smacked her bare leg and probably a good handful of her ass. I couldn't help but laugh and neither could Momo. She put a hand on my arm and leaned in. I had to admit, she was pretty hot compared to a lot of the girls there; maybe I wouldn't have to even try that hard.

We all got together and stood in-line for a beer while I admired Momo and the other girls walking around in all manner of outfits and some in practically nothing at all. The music we were seeing was heavily electronic so from my little experience I knew this would be nothing short of a rave. I was starting to feel pretty dazed and that's probably why I was getting handsy with Momo.

By the time the music had started I'd lost count of my beer intake. I was holding her and Momo was rubbing against me. There really isn't a better feeling than the rumble of bass deep in your chest and the warm skin of a pretty girl close to you. Especially when she's feeling the same warm tingling that was pulling me closer to her.

At some point, I don't know when, we got separated. Perhaps it was the tan-skinned exotic looking girl who was leaning back with her hand caressing my neck. I looked down and she was wearing a top with fabric that crisscrossed her body so her sides were left bare. Her abdomen was just as tan as the rest of her and from the times she looked back at me I could see her eyes were no less alluring.

I think we made out for some time, but after talking to her for only a moment or so I realized, unfortunately, that she was either too dim-witted or too drunk to pass for more than a good-looking dance partner. The music was phenomenal, I was just the right amount of drunk, and I was flitting around from girl to girl and dancing like a fool. I was having a better time than I could have hoped for and even more so when I finally found my group of friends again. I remember thinking we should go to concerts like that more often when a really popular song came on and we started rough-housing and hollering as it began.

In the middle of the song there was a sudden jolt in the tempo and we were jumping up and down to the beat. I looked back. The crowd was jumping too, waves rippling back over the ocean of fans. Colored lights panned this way and that with the music, the beat of drums being absorbed by a dense blanket of people.

I was jumping and fist-pumping and doing all of the dumb stuff that seemed to be perfectly acceptable in that moment. Once I jumped and caught a glimpse of a guy crowd surfing. Again I jumped and saw the huge cloud of smoke that was hovering over the crowd. Once more and I caught a glimpse of what had to be the least dressed girl at the party. Naturally, I looked for her again.

Her whole back was bare, and it was all I could see of her through the throngs of people between us. I couldn't be sure but naturally I hoped her front was bare as well. She was jumping around wildly like me, and when she somewhat turned my way once or twice I could see she definitely wasn't wearing anything to support her breasts. They weren't huge, but from the side they looked like a nice little handful. It wasn't the first shirtless girl at the concert but usually the topless girls weren't the best to look at. This one had a toned little body and she looked like she knew how to use it.

I wandered forward without saying anything to my friends. A pang of guilt struck me for ditching them after we'd spent half the concert looking for each other, but I had to get closer to this girl. It was denser the closer I got to her. Not only was she farther up but it seemed like many of the guys around had the same idea as me. I pretended like I was pushing through to find my friends; that always seemed to work. All I ever got was the occasional grunt or mutter of frustration. I am a pretty decent sized guy so most people avoid conflict with me, I suppose.

I was about ten feet from her and my heart started to pound. I realized I was nervous. Something about the way this girl wasn't letting any of her leering onlookers near and seemed to be totally in her own world had me breathing fast and wondering what I would say. I watched her bob her head side to side, extend her arms up in the air and sway with the droning music the band was striking up in that moment.

The closer I got the better she looked... or maybe that was just the booze. When she turned to the side I saw a purple butterfly sticker over her nipple. Holy crap was that hot. It was almost as if seeing so much of her and yet being denied her fully naked form made me want her ten times more. The guts on this girl to wear so little to a concert that was sure to be full of young men with low morals... I resolved to take a shot.

I could see she had dirty pink hair now, and the only thing she seemed to have on besides two butterfly stickers was a short denim skirt. It wasn't unlike the one my little sister was hiding on her way out the door. I guess both of these girls knew how to get attention, though I hoped nobody had ever seen my Eunha without a top on, or so my protective instinct cautioned me. I finally made it close enough to make a move on the cutie, but not without a strong shoulder from a guy in a polo slightly larger than me. He yelled something and though I tried to ignore and walk past, I guess he wasn't pleased that I was getting between him and the nearly naked cutie. He grabbed my shoulder...

"Hey asshole!" he shouted and spun me his way.

I looked at him and tensed, wondering if I was going to have to defend myself or throw a punch.

"Relax man," I said, "I'm just looking for somebody."

"Fuck you!" he responded unreasonably, "you're just trying to get to the front!"

Usually, that would be true, but this time I was just trying to get near the most intoxicating girl I'd seen at the show. I readied myself to fight when I heard a voice behind me:

"OPPA!?"

The big guy's eyes darted over my shoulder. My fists were clenched and my already pounding heart had converted my nervous energy to adrenaline... yet the voice caught me off guard. The wide-eyed goon's gaze convinced me it was safe to turn around. And that's when I saw her.

denim skirt, some streaks of body paint across her abdomen and the two butterfly pasties I'd seen before were all there. The phenomenal body, perfect, firm breasts and adorable face I'd seen before too... on my little sister Eunha.

How could I not have seen? How didn't I know from the second I'd seen the familiar skirt? Why had my brain begged me to get closer to her when I must have known, subconsciously even, that this moment would come?

"Oppa!" she shouted again and then ran toward me. Her perfect little breasts jiggled as she pumped her legs and then jumped right at me. I caught her just in time, and it turned me toward the guy who had picked a fight. He glared, but it didn't seem he was going to interrupt us.

I could feel Eunha's tits pressed against my chest, and her toned legs firmly holding her in place. I was confused, a large part of me unwilling to let go of that magnetic pull that had drawn me to her. My little sister was practically naked in my arms and everyone around who had been staring at her for however long was watching us. Nobody could know who she was to me, or so I hoped. My eyes quickly scanned the crowd to see if any of our friends were watching. Her cheer friends were happily distracted near the front of the stage and there was at least a few hundred people between us and my group. I dared take my eyes off the crowd and look Eunha in the eye.

"Hey big bro," she said, still hanging on me like a monkey.

"Hey troublemaker." I said.

She smiled, a big, toothy grin, the way I always loved. Her gaze was a little friendly for a sister, as if the fact that her boobs were squished between us and our hips were locked together wasn't enough. I might have wondered where that was coming from, but I could smell whatever fruity vodka drink she'd had plenty of on her lips.

"YOU LIED!" Eunha pulled back while still seated in my arms and said loudly over the noise. "YOU told mom and dad that you were going to Minho's!"

"Oh yeah?" I asked, "and what about you?"

She scoffed, "what about ME?"

"I thought you were going to Umji's to practice some new cheer and sleep over?"

Eunha snickered guiltily. "Well, maybe I lied a little... you won't tell will you?"

"It depends," I threatened emptily.

Eunha was obviously one of those adorable drunks; I could hear it from the sing-songy inflection in her voice. But if you asked me she should not have been any kind of drunk with the hungry eyes I had seen fixed on her. Once again, maybe it was brotherly instinct or maybe I just knew what those guys were thinking.

I looked again at my little sister in my arms. I didn't know what to think. After all, I had come to her with much different intentions. She was still the same girl who'd just about stopped my heart when I saw her only from the side. Yes, I could see her flexing and moving her hips when I got close enough and her bare back was what had initially caught my eye. Her appearance had captured my attention, but her presence had drawn me in.

I wondered what our parents would think. Set aside Eunha's utter state of undress, and both of our irresponsible intoxication. What would they say if they saw Eunha wrapped around her brother with her teenage chest and tiny hips held tight to me. What would they say if they saw her moving up and down to the beat of the music, causing her to rub up against my already confused manhood... wait...?

She WAS doing it. Whether intentionally or not, that little minx... she was bouncing herself rhythmically and it was simply not the kind of contact a little sister should be making with her brother. She had to know... but as I looked at her again and saw that carefree smile and open mouth yelling out to the band, I knew I couldn't hold it against her.

I also knew I couldn't hold IT against her either. I was reacting to her attentions in a way that made me all the more conflicted. I lifted Eunha from me, quite easily except when she fought to hold on to me. I always loved her playfulness.

When I set her down again I was treated to another uninhibited look at her beautiful body. My little sister's tits or not, my hands struggled to stay at my sides and not reach out and touch the perky mounds that sagged not an inch on her chest. And those stickers, those fucking butterfly stickers... There was something so appealing about them - a childish and playful symbol that decorated my seductive and naughty little sister.

"You don't approve..." she said with a frown. Eunha must have caught me looking her up and down.

I used it as another excuse to gaze. Her tight tummy was streaked with paint like somebody had grabbed for her. I burned inside thinking it might have been some asshole in the crowd.

"What do you want me to say?" She had turned around now and was looking at the band while talking to me over her shoulder. Her cute butt was no less provoking; it sat proudly under a skirt that was too short to wear anywhere in my opinion.

She turned and her fingers grazed my face, just like the girl before had. I shivered at her touch; I wasn't supposed to like her doing that. "I dono..." she replied coyly. "Tell me I'm pretty at least..."

She turned again and bit her lower lip. GOD she was either a brilliant or totally natural seductress. I would tell her anything at that point.

But I still managed to hold back. "Well yea you're pretty..." I told her. I had to blink off the surging/tingling feeling of the alcohol as I tried to finish my thought. "...I just don't like all these guys staring at you."

I looked around. Maybe I was overreacting.

"Well now that my big brother is here, I think you can stop worrying." I felt her butt brush against me while she was dancing. She grabbed my arm and slung it around her. I could feel her naked front warm against my forearm.

"Shouldn't you be with some girl or something, not hanging with your little sister?" Eunha teased.

"Uh uh, now that I've found you, I'm not taking my eyes off you!" I replied quickly.

Eunha smiled and pressed her head against my shoulder, flattered. I hadn't meant it like that...

"That's not what I meant... I'm just saying..."

She turned away, seemingly pleased enough with the compliment I'd unintentionally paid her. I gave up, frustrated with her and simultaneously disarmed by her confidence.

"What about you Ms. butterflies?" She let out an incredulous 'uh!' like I'd somehow offended her by acknowledging it. "I'm surprised you haven't chosen one of your many admirers."

She was quick to respond too, "Well I'm with you aren't I?"

She looked me in the eye for a few seconds, and before I could say anything she turned back around. I would have argued, I should have, but it was true. She couldn't have known how I'd found her but I was guilty nonetheless. Eunha was by far the most interesting girl I'd come across the whole night, among thousands.

I couldn't keep my composure for too long either. I was still plenty drunk and so was she. After a minute or two of inner conflict and debating whether I should take Eunha home, leave her by herself or stay there with my scantily clad little sis, the music chose for me.

I really did love this band, and before I knew it I was dancing around just like before. This time, however, I was finally with a girl I actually wanted to be around. She was holding my arm, spinning around and I was enjoying watching her have a good time. Heck, I was having a great time myself, slowly forgetting to be careful with my hands... and my eyes with my newfound dance-partner.

I got somewhat lost in it all. Eunha was so gorgeous, and the music so entrancing... when I look back I remember my hands on her hips, running daringly up her side. I remember feeling her backside nudging against my front and the swelling it caused in my jeans. People were looking at us now and again, but nobody knew our secret. There was an attraction there that shouldn't have been, but it was ours and ours alone. I could dance with my little sister however I wanted, touch her wherever I wanted, and feel however I wanted. As long as she was by my side at this concert, nothing was forbidden.

Eunha stumbled once. I laughed at her and she feigned that she was upset. She even looked cute doing it. I worried for a moment that she might have been too drunk. Then she went back to dancing with me, leaning more heavily and being a little less inconspicuous about her affections. I felt her hands on mine. They guided me to her belly, where I could feel the feel the ridges of body-paint, the tautness of her skin, and even the dangly piercing that marked her belly-button.

She rolled her head back into me, with eyes mostly closed.

I had to act; I could have let this whole thing run its course and lead me wherever I was headed. But I knew where that would take me, and I was her older brother. I had a responsibility to Eunha and I was going to take care of her.

"It's time to go." I said, taking hold of her shoulders and saying into her ear.

"Mmmmh...okay." She said, standing up straighter and grinding her ass into me. I winced and breathed deeply.

Taking her hand I moved to our left. My car was somewhere parked out in the woods. We'd driven up close enough to hear the opener but off the beaten path to conceal the excessive drinking that usually took place before the concert. My friends wouldn't be coming back to the car, but I needed to take Eunha somewhere, if only to sleep it off.

I was determined as I began to weave through the crowd. I thought Eunha was going to just follow drunkenly along. She started to resist. 'What the heck!' I thought as I had to pull at her arm more firmly. I looked back and saw her brows furrowed and an angry glare.

I realized pretty quickly that my little sister had been acting a bit drunker than she actually was. Maybe she was using it as an excuse to be so carefree when we were dancing earlier. She hadn't resisted when we first left, but maybe she was expecting something else - not her brother chaperoning her to the car.

When we got clear of the densest part of the crowd I stopped and addressed my fuming little sister. What a sight she was: half-naked in denim and black and throwing a mini-tantrum. It was hard for me to stick to my purpose instead of acting on the urges I was feeling toward Eunha. I had to be the responsible one here, I didn't know just how much my little sister had to drink and how she was feeling about the way we were dancing earlier. I suspected she would have let it go further if I hadn't stopped.

"So...what..." Eunha said as she planted her feet and stared me down, "you're just gonna take me home and that's it?"

"No." I responded, "I was going to take you back to the truck and we can listen to the rest of the concert from there."

"Oh...okay." The corners of her mouth showed an embarrassed smile.

She took my hand, put it around her waist and walked, more amicably this time, side by side with me to the truck. It was getting a little colder now and I knew Eunha would be chilly, I could feel goosebumps on her bare skin. I pulled her tightly to me, my fingers pressing in to her warm, soft side.

When we finally got to my truck we were a ways from the crowd. The music still filled the empty woods around us and shafts of light penetrated the canopy of darkened treetops. It was an eerie place, made warm by the presence of Eunha at my side.

I hopped up into the truck bed and bent down to help my little sister up with me. Locking my hands under her arms I swiftly pulled her up and set her down in front of me. I couldn't avoid how close she came as her toes found the metal bed. I think she was impressed by the way I manhandled her, and I by the ease with which I could lift the tiny cutie. I don't care if she was my sister or not; feeling her youthful body slide into place pressed firmly to my front was enough to make my eyes roll back.

We stood there for a silent moment, neither of us knowing what to do next. Usually, with tension so thick I'd want nothing but to feel her lips on mine, but that wasn't an option. She nuzzled me, touching the tip of her nose to mine and breathing deeply. She was awaiting my next move.

After what felt like an eternity I reached down for the blankets in the storage locker, unfurling them and setting a few for us to lay on. I quickly positioned myself in the corner facing the concert to escape from our suggestive pose; Eunha followed and once again nuzzled under my arm.

My head swam with racing questions. Why were we acting like this? Why couldn't I just act the big brother and keep Eunha safe until she was sober enough to bring home? Why did every touch of her skin feel so electric?

It had to be the booze, or at least that's what I told myself despite the fact that it'd been an hour or two since my last drink. As soon as I settled in, threw a blanket over the two of us and felt my little sister snuggled up to me my worries began to melt away. The music, once again, captured me and the safety and warmth of our getaway was just what we both needed. A few people passed the truck but nobody close enough to notice us. It felt private, like we were all alone with nobody to bother us.

"I'm glad you found me," my little sister said, breaking the silence and staring up at me with her chin on my chest.

"I'm glad I found you too," I replied, "I don't know how much longer that pack of circling dogs would have left you alone."

Eunha giggled, "you think they saw something they liked?" She was clearly getting some enjoyment from goading me.

"More like they didn't see something... your clothes!"

Eunha laughed adorably and was clearly unphased this time by me calling out her outfit. In fact, she flipped the blanket off of us and opened up to me, causing her breasts to shake in place and her front to be utterly exposed to my view.

"You mean I'm not wearing enough?" she said, glancing down at herself and inviting me to do the same.

I couldn't NOT look. I set my eyes on her, seeing her perky breasts laying hardly any flatter and her athletic frame leading down to her bunched skirt. I had my eyes fixed upon her, but hers had found something else. She'd revealed her beautiful teenage body to me by flipping the blanket back, but she could see my lower half as well. And I was totally hot for her; there was no hiding the bulge in my shorts.

Eunha was clearly taken aback. As of yet I hadn't given her any direct indication that I was feeling lustful thoughts toward my little sister. And though she'd danced quite suggestively with me, we could still go home without feeling we needed to hide anything.

Yet my hardness had Eunha's mouth agape. Except it was not in disgust but rather something else. She knew what was going on in my head. I needed to be quick to act, to snub out the suggestion that I'd made unintentionally with my erection. But I was not in any position to think or act quickly. I didn't intend to... it was all too much and it was like Eunha was begging me to do something rash.

I planted my hand firmly under her breast, my thumb and forefinger plying the soft padded skin between them. Above sat the thin shroud of her butterfly and higher still a wide eyed and still open mouthed gaze from my little sister. She felt wonderful, and I finally had my hand on her teenage breast as I'd wanted to all night. I moved my fingers around, massaging her daringly.

Eunha's head rolled back a bit and she breathed in apprehensively. When I touched her more firmly next it elicited a soft "uhhh..." from her open mouth.

I kept moving my fingers in circles, handling her wonderful chest and marveling at the firmness of her unhindered breast. She let me continue long enough to build confidence. I took more of her in my hand and she sighed again, I could feel my little sister's hips begin to move involuntarily.

"Mmmmhh...Oppa" she cooed again. "We shouldn't... this is really naughty."

But her hips betrayed her words. They had found my leg and I could feel the heat from between hers as she urged herself against me. I explored her chest with my hand, moving it between her two breasts and up to her neck, then back to her other breast, feeling the butterfly sticker on my palm.

I wanted to feel more, so I pried at the edge of one sticker.

"Uhhhh Oppa... you can't," she protested, while continuing to gyrate on my leg.

I chose to listen to her body instead, and slowly peeled the wing of the butterfly backward. I watched her intently; she made no move to stop me. When I'd peeled enough to see the faintest denim of her small nipple she trembled with sensation. I pulled it off the rest of the way and saw in full what I'd been hoping for all night.

I intended to get to her other sticker but I immediately placed my hand on her breast and tested it gently. Her nipple must have been sensitive because she trembled once again.

I guess the heightened intensity of her further nakedness worked to my advantage because soon after, as my hand was sliding open-palmed over her taut stomach I felt hers moving slowly as well. First I felt it on my hip, then the soft spot of my pelvis, and then... as if it were her first time, her fingers lightly touched the bulge in my shorts.

It was my turn to groan. I had been tortured by Eunha's body all night and now she was finally moving to help relieve me. At first her hand dared not progress, resting enticingly over my hard cock with only layers of clothing between. But as I got more aggressive with my own hands and I helped pressure my knee back toward her grinding hips, my little sister found her confidence.

She wrapped as much of her hand around me as the fabric would allow and I gasped in response.

"Wowww," she whispered. It must have been bigger than she expected.

All the while, as my little sister was gaining the tenacity to take things further, I was already doing so myself. The sight of her exposed breast and my hand descending from it down her flat stomach was amazing enough, but my intentions to go lower had my heart pumping twice as hard.

My fingers reached the elastic waistband atop her denim skirt.

I could feel her breathing in and out, her abs tightening rhythmically.

We were both waiting for what I would do next. After a moment, I had waited long enough; I had to have more of my teenage sister.

I urged my fingertips between, feeling the soft skin and gentle curve of her hipbone as I did so. When I was just short of my target, Eunha's hand quickly found mine. Her palm came to rest atop mine, with the skirt between us.

Eunha's eyes looked up at me, full of desire and apprehension both. She bit at her lower lip before saying, "You should stop... unhhh... don't you think you should stop?"

She was probably right. If I didn't hold back now, things could go a lot further. I didn't know if my little sister was virgin but deep down I longed to find out. I wanted to have her in so many ways, to fuck her like she had been practically begging me all night. If the brother in me didn't intervene I might end up acting out every lust-filled vision I'd dreamt up while at Eunha's side all night, taking her in every position I'd longed to since I first caught glimpse of the beautiful cutie.

The decision was easy then. With Eunha's hand still firmly upon my member, and mine beneath her skirt as my eyes beheld her young, nearly-naked body, I threw caution to the wind. My fingers pressed down upon her mound and I watched as my little sister writhed in pleasure. Whether her protest was empty or not, the second my fingers pressured from outside her panties she was gone.

I rubbed in small circles where I could feel the precipice of her tiny opening. Even through the cloth of her bikini underwear I could feel that my little sis was wet for me. She lifted her hips when I didn't press hard enough. The hand that had been there to stop me now pushed my fingers more firmly against her.

Eunha's other hand fumbled around my shorts as she struggled to multi-task. Hard as it may have been for her to cope with her brother's attention to her aching sex, she eventually worked her hand inside my shorts.

Something clicked in me when she finally grasped me firmly, her hand on my bare cock. I was fully overcome with desire, love and lust for my little Eunha. Her pretty face looked focused upon returning the favor I was working on her pussy. Her eyes flitted to mine occasionally and then back to her hand as it worked up and down within my shorts. When our gazes met, there was no more worry or guilt, only the love and understanding of brother and sister with a clear lust for more.

She must have gotten frustrated by the obstacle of my shorts because moments later she hastily tugged the elastic band over the tent that had been formed there. My sizable penis sprang free to the open air and Eunha's longing eyes. They widened as she revealed what her hand already knew to be more than she had expected.

I took her brazenness as invitation, quickly dragging her skirt and panties both down to her knees. Eunha's face cast a second of shyness as I looked down, making sure the blanket hadn't covered my little sister's lower half as I disrobed her. She was totally bare, and from what I could tell her opening as small as I'd ever seen. If I intended to make love to her that night, she was likely to need a lot of time to adjust to my size.

Eunha continued her ministrations and explored all over me, gently grazing my head with her fingertips and testing the weight of my full balls with her hand. I touched down to my little sister's bare pussy for the first time as well. She quivered as I contacted her warmth. With two fingers I straddled her clit and stroked the full length of her young quim.

"Oooohh...fuuuuuck,.." Eunha mewed, "I can't believe we're doing this... feels so... ughhh... good."

I kept at her, rotating my fingers about her button and watching her squirm when I touched her just right. Seeing her back arch, abs ripple and her pretty breasts shift as I pleasured her, I nearly exploded. Eunha's hair was tussled over one eye; with my arm that was wrapped around her I pushed it back and rolled her toward me.

We kissed for the first time.

She tested my lips, pecking at them. I attempted to meet them more firmly but she teased me. I pulled her more tightly to me, yet still she withheld. I could sense her smile and then the breathy giggle that followed it, her breath tickling my chin.

I leaned in closer and caught her. Our lips touched firmly at last, and we both paused. We had already crossed many lines, but kissing my little sister felt equally as intimate, if not more. I pried my lips open a bit. Eunha did the same, pecking at me again. Then she pressed firmly to me, our noses intertwined and my hand left her wanton opening.

Within seconds our tongues were touching for the first time, lightly at first. But then it was more eagerly. I wanted to feel everything my little sister had to offer. Eunha sat up to get a better angle at which to kiss me but I had a bigger plans. I wanted Eunha atop me, in all her beauty, sitting in my lap and kissing me without inhibition.

I fumbled to remove my shorts the rest of the way and then Eunha's skirt. My efforts elicited a laugh from my little pink sis, but she was silenced as soon as I had my hands on her hips and pulled her atop me.

Her knees rested softly on the blanket beneath us.

Her hips had come to rest so that my erection was securely pinned beneath her bare pussy.

She looked down, with heightened awareness at the new contact we were making. I flexed my cock to make it all the more intense for her, for us both. Looking up, with one breast bare and the other still hidden beneath the remaining butterfly, I reached for it. Pausing a moment, as if I hadn't been fondling her other breast for the last ten minutes, I felt her soft skin and teased it.

Then I peeled the sticker off all in one motion. It didn't seem too painful but Eunha inhaled sharply all the same. Now she was totally naked to me. The reality aroused me: my little sister completely naked with her brother's cock actually touching her teenage pussy, But the sight spurred me to action. I urged my hands up her abdomen, holding her firmly and bringing them to her perfect breasts.

I relished the look on Eunha's face as she felt my hands upon her. I couldn't know exactly what was going on in her head but somehow I knew she was as willing a participant as I.

"God you are so beautiful Eunha," I told her, watching a big smile form on her face. She leaned down and kissed me with gratitude. I bet she looked wonderful from behind in her prone position.

After a few seconds she broke the kiss. "You are a good brother, Oppa. I love you so much."

"Somehow, I don't think Mom and Dad would agree," I said, glancing down between us were my erection was planted firmly between her tiny bare lips.

Eunha responded by thrusting her hips forward and backward along the length of my shaft. We both gasped in unison at the sensation. Our contact was near the real thing and at any moment one of us could have taken control and consummated the incestuous act we were building toward.

"Mom and Dad don't know how you protected me from all those creeps... ugh... " she moved back and forth again, "And they don't know how you tried to be good when I was being so naughty with my dancing. Oh fuck..." My little sister's words had made me involuntarily thrust my hips toward her, increasing the contact with her slit.

I had written off so much of Eunha's behavior tonight as drunkenness and now she was admitting to doing it on purpose. The tricky little tease; maybe all of those times her hand or butt had come in contact with my crotch in front of the stage weren't quite so accidental. I doubted it now.

I had one hand massaging her breasts, and another one forged a path between them and up to her neck. I half-encircled it gently and caressed her sensitive skin there.

"Oh Eunha," I said as she once again rolled her hips along my rod. "I want you so badly sis... you're driving me crazy." She obviously took that as an invitation to tease me more, lifting from my hips and letting my tip prod at her pussy. My baby sis pushed just softly enough that I was forbidden entrance before she lowered herself off again and I was rendered helpless.

"I don't want to take advantage... uhhh... " I said as she lifted up and directed my head to her pussy again. Watching me intently and capturing my gaze, she bore down on my tip enough that I held my breath and wondered what she'd do next. If I lifted my hips even an inch now my little sister would be as skewered on me as she was playing at.

She rolled her hips and my head again missed its mark. She was torturing me once more, and I was near taking control and teaching her a lesson. But Eunha had done it so she could lean in and kiss me. It's not that I didn't enjoy making out with the beautiful goddess, but I had been too close not to go further. As if she could read my mind, she removed her lips and hovered close to mine

"Oppa..." she assured me, "I want this."

With that I watched my teenage sister lift her hips from my lap and reach between us. She took hold of my cock and pointed it directly where we both wanted it. She lowered just enough to hold me in place before fixing her eyes upon mine.

All I could do was marvel, placing my hands on her hips lightly and giving my little sister complete control. I watched her, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, gazing down between us as she applied more weight. I could tell from the way her opening resisted me that she would be far tighter than I could have hoped.

"Ohh fuck bro... you're soo big... I gotta go slow."

I longed to be inside her, but I wanted Eunha to be as comfortable as possible. "It's okay sis, take your time."

She was plenty wet, her sliding back and forth already had my shaft glistening in the moonlight. She was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. Her dirty pink hair framed her face just so, her eyes were closed for the moment as she concentrated on lowering, torturously slowly. Her toned body held breath as she tried to continue.

I felt my head finally part her little pussy lips and wondered if she could feel me throbbing to be inside her.

And then there was resistance. Eunha's eyes were still closed so I could not search them for answer. I watched her bite her lip as she pushed past what was obviously an uncomfortable obstacle.

"Uhhhh...owwww..." she howled in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Eunha didn't open her eyes again until she had come to rest. My staff was fully immersed in my little sister and she was panting despite being completely still.

"Oh Eunha," I said, finding her eyes desperately upon mine. "Are you a virgin baby sis?"

She grinned, though her furrowed brow revealed she was still adjusting to having her big brother filling her so completely.

"Not anymore.." she quipped. Eunha was always clever; even, it seemed, when impaled on her brother's cock.

"I didn't... ughhh..." I could feel her pulsing from all the sensation being so full was causing her, "I didn't know Eunha..."

She moved to bring our faces together again. Even the slightest movement seemed to bring her more sensation to cope with and deep breaths by which to do so.

"It's okay Oppa..." she took another breath, "I wanted it to be you..."

I was enamored. My gorgeous sister had given me the most treasured gift she had to offer. Her wonderful personality, her perfect teenage body, and now her eighteen-year virginity was mine. My hands gripped her hips more tightly. We kissed, and simultaneously I helped Eunha lift her tiny pelvis up along the path my erection allowed.

She hummed against my lips. I could feel her tense as my head brushed over her broken hymen. When her entrance finally gave way to the ridges of my tip we broke our kiss. She let the head linger at her opening, threatening entrance at any second.

"Are you ready Eunha?" I asked her.

"Uh huh," she complied.

We both assisted in lowering her down, feeling me slide into my little sister and fill her so perfectly it was like I was meant to be there.

Eunha howled, "Oooooouuuww... fuck Oppa...slower..."

We both watched as inch after inch disappeared into her. I might have urged her faster if not for the marks her nails were leaving in my arms as she held on and took me deeper. Instead I just held her and savored every second that my little sister allowed me to be inside of her. As I watched her naked little body sink lower I remained amazed that I was truly making love to the younger sister I'd known and loved all my life.

Eunha had always been adorable. She'd been the youngest cheerleader when she started high school, she loved to drive boys crazy with whatever outfits our parents would let her get away with, and she had come into her pretty teenage body early on.

Her breasts had been the same size for years, often tucked visibly into the tight-fit clothing she wore. She always had the dimples and cute cheeks, though her blue eyes were equally distracting. Years of being active had sculpted her frame. As I looked at her now I saw that the little sister I'd watched grow up for years had a body to marvel at: thin at the waist with the hint of hipbones, a slender abdomen and the bulge of her ribcage before those mouth-watering teen breasts.

I reached around to grab Eunha's butt. It was firm like the rest of her but definitely something to hold on to. I did so as she continued her up and down movements on my cock.

"Fuckk... Oh God Oppa..." she called out,

"Eunha... ughh... you're so tight sis..." I didn't know how long I could last with my baby sis controlling the tempo and squeezing my shaft so securely.

"Ohmyyygod... I can't believe we're... mmmmhhhh..." she was upping the pace at which she lifted her hips and brought them down to meet mine. I could feel my tip prodding her deep inside, the very end of her tight channel soft against my tip. "I can't believe I'm fucking my brotherrrr...uhhhh"

My hands moved about. One gripped her hip tightly and started to urge her more roughly up and down. The other gripped her side and breast alternately, I wanted to feel as much of her tiny body as I could.

The music still droned in the background. Both of us had ceased hearing it long ago, listening only to each other's breathing and sounds of ecstasy. The lights flickered between the trees and the moon shone down on us from above. Not far off were thousands of people fixated on the loud music and dancing. I thought nothing of it, instead ensnared by my nude baby sister humping herself atop me.

I shifted, sitting upright with my back against the window to the cab. Eunha didn't miss a beat, pressing her breasts firmly against me and rocking her hips in our new position. She lowered herself fully onto me, with her clit pressed against my base. My little sister may have been a virgin, but she was quickly discovering all the ways sex could make her feel.

She rolled her hips around. Locked together my tip sought new ground inside of her and she writhed as it prodded her deep within.

She gasped aloud, "ohhhHHH... Fuuuck bro... It's so far in me..."

"I know Eunha, you feel amazing," I told her, "I don't know how much more I can take."

It was like that only encouraged her. "You can't come yet Oppa... uhhh..." she grabbed on to my neck and shoulder and started rocking her hips in a way no girl I'd been with before had ever done.

"I'm not wearing a c...shit Eunha slow down...I'm not wearing a condom!"

The feeling of my little sister urging my cock in and out of her was racing me toward release faster than I could control...

"Don't cum yet... just wait..." she pleaded.

She didn't slow down, I was afraid of what might happen if she kept it up. The little teenage troublemaker confirmed my fears.

"I'm not...ohhh..." she could feel my hands trying to slow her down, she pushed them from her... "I'm not on birth control ... you can't yet I'm really ... fuuuucking close."

My head was dazed, my hands didn't know what to do and my mind was torn trying to stop me cumming in my little sis and wondering what would happen if I did. It was then that Eunha nuzzled her head to mine and locked her hips again. She gasped in my ear and then called my name.

I was going to be able to hold out. Getting my little sister pregnant was less a concern now as was watching her have her first orgasm with a man, let alone me: her brother.

"Ooooooouuuhhhhh... Daaaaaaan..." she howled, shaking so much I had to hold her to make sure she wouldn't fall from my lap.

I withdrew from her what little distance I could with the quaking little girl in my arms and pushed back inside, thinking I would only add to her orgasm. It was a grievous mistake. My little sister cumming in my lap and the one last, pivotal thrust had built me too far.

When I felt her mound connect with me, I couldn't withhold the first jet of sperm that I sent as deep into my little sister's pussy as was possible. Nor could I stop the second, or the third. Eunha was so firmly planted with me inside and her body trembling from her electric climax that I couldn't have dreamed of removing her.

Nor did I want to. In a few fateful seconds I flooded my little Eunha with cum. She pushed at my chest early enough to lean back and look deep into my eyes while my tip was spurting its final, purposeful rope of semen into my little sister's fertile womb. If the time was right, there was no question that I'd filled Eunha with enough of her brother's cum to assure that we were both in a bit of trouble.

We looked down. The juncture between us was slick with our combined fluids. I could see the denim gleam of my cum attempting to work its way out. It had reached as deep within her as it could go and now sought another way out.

The evidence of our incest was unmistakable, and the look that we shared after we both saw it was fraught with wonder. What was Eunha thinking? She had to know what her brother had just done and what it meant; was she upset with me?

She answered with a kiss.

She leaned in and hugged me close. It felt reassuring having her pressed against me. It was even more comforting the passion with which we entwined our tongues and made out until Eunha backed off to speak.

"Sooo... you came inside me..." Her voice held no disappointment whatsoever.

"Yeah... I'm so sorry... I couldn't stop it, when you..." but she stilled my voice with a finger upon my lips.

"Uh uh," she denied me, "don't be sorry. I knew you might unless I stopped... but I didn't want to." She smiled mischievously. Her look was incredibly naughty, notwithstanding the fact that her tiny pussy was still dripping with her brother's cum and his cock still hard and lodged inside of her.

I was once again overcome with love for my little sister. She wasn't just the perky teen that I used to babysit. She was that, but she was now a hot little high schooler that had just given her virginity to her brother and done a fantastic job for her first time. It made her unspeakably naughty and desirable. She was my own personal eighteen year old sex-symbol, and I couldn't wait to see what trouble she would drum up next.

"It's just that I'm at... like... the best time to get pregnant right now, or at least that's what my schedule from SexEd says" she told me, biting her pointer finger like she had for years when she did something naughty.

"Oh..." was all I could say.

I was still so hard in Eunha's slick tunnel; the danger we were in did nothing to quell that. I'm quite certain that it only made matters worse, because I was already having thoughts that I wasn't done with my little sister for the night.

She looked down, "Oh my God, you came so much! I can feel it in me! It's really warm," her face showed an obviously faked look of concern, "what if you put a baby in your own baby sister?"

"What should we do?" I asked her, incredulous.

She looked deep in thought for a moment and then said, "I think you should fuck me again, just to be sure."

I must have heard her wrong. She must not have meant she wanted us to have unprotected sex again, right there in the truck bed. When she slowly pulled herself off of me I was certain that I'd just heard what I wanted to.

She got on all fours in front of me. There was cum trailing from her bald teen pussy, I ached to feel it wrapped around me again.

"Will you fuck me like this?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at me. "Doggy right?" she looked excited to know the position.

I was paralyzed. The reality of everything... the fact that I had my little sister naked in the bed of my truck, that I'd just pumped her fertile pussy full of my sperm without birth control, and now... she wanted me to do it again?

"Come on brother! You already fucked me once, and you filled me up with all that sticky cum." She shook her behind at me, taunting me. "Don't you want to fuck me again Oppa?"

I cautiously moved forward, my erection wagged in front of me, revealing my mind to her.

"Pleaaase...?" she said with a whine.

Her whine turned to a whimper when I touched my tip to her entrance once more. I slid it up from a few inches below, bringing with it the spunk that had escaped. Looking my little sister in the eye and seeing her bite her lip in anticipation, I pushed my tip between her pussy lips and in one long stroke I sank back into her, aided by our own fluids.

Though she'd already taken my size minutes before, it was obvious that she still had to adjust to each stroke.

"Ouwww... fuck it's big... ouuuhhh... be gentle with me... ugh... Oppa," she said after I'd started to thrust into her rhythmically.

I slowed down, but as my hips met her butt I pushed hard and prodded the soft spot at her cervix. We both drew inward a deep breath when I did, and then Eunha whimpered again as I withdrew.

I grasped her as I thrusted, my thumbs each pushing into her cheeks and fingers wrapped firmly around her hips. My little sister was small enough that my hands almost entirely encircled her hips. The slick sound of me penetrating my sister was audible on the night air, and I realized that the music had finally stopped. The cries of my little sister were adorable yet I hoped they didn't draw too much attention.

"Fuck me Oppa... fuck your little sister!" She encouraged me. I'd hardly ever heard her swear. Though, with my hard cock buried inside Eunha, I knew I was learning a lot about the tiny pink-haired cutie tonight.

"Oh Eunha..." I called to her, "I love you little sis, unhhh... you feel so good... I'm so glad I found you tonight."

She reached back and grabbed my hand, then got up on her knees. I held her with my hand across her chest, palming her breast as she turned. "I love you too Oppa...ughh ... oh Fuck..." she yelped, our upright position had brought a new angle at which I was penetrating her. "I'm so happy you found me too..." she turned to kiss me. I kept urging my cock into her deeply "Jesus...fuck...I've wanted you to fuck me...uhhh for a long time," she whispered.

I was surprised. I'd thought of my little sister many times before, even imagined her when I was with other girls. She was so adorable and her tight little body had been torturing me for many years, but I wrote it off as me being a typical horny young guy. I didn't think Eunha had similar feelings.

She seemed to read the surprise on my face. "Uh huh," she affirmed, "yeah I've thought about you a lot... mmmnhh uhhhh..." she tried hard to push her ass back toward me was I met it with the slapping sound of my own thrusts.

"Remember when we went camping...ughhhh owww... with Mom and Dad?" She was having trouble talking through panting fits, but she seemed to be aroused telling me, "You kept waking up spooning me?" she asked.

"Uuuuhhh keep fucking me," she demanded as I paused, remembering the weekend.

"You had a stiffy the whole time..." I remembered, those two nights were torture and I felt so guilty wondering if my little sis had felt my hardness against her each time.

"I remember Eunha..." I put my hand around her neck, holding it daringly but gently there.

"I did that on purpose...ooohh oooh fuck..." she gasped as I impaled her harder. "I kept hoping you'd just give in and fuck me... just like you are... uhh... right... now."

My head was spinning. My little sister was blowing my mind and taking every inch of my cock at the same time. I was like an animal as I pulled out from her and quickly turned her to sit on the tool chest. She was so light and our lovemaking so aligned that we barely missed a beat.

Looking at her, seated atop the metal box and with her arms and legs around me, I pointed my cock without touching it and entered her again. I was watching her face intently. Her mouth opened. She cooed as I shoved into her again. She spasmed as I bottomed out.

"Fuuuck Oppa..." she complained, "it feels bigger like this."

I didn't stop. I withdrew and then sank home again. Eunha jerked forward as I prodded her deeply. I could have slowed down but I was so mad with lust that I didn't desire to in the slightest. I just kept pulling out of my little sister and driving into her, taking her completely.

"Oppa... uhhh I can't take it... wait... ohhh God..."

She was too weak to hold me off and I knew that if I kept fucking her I'd send her into another orgasm. I thrust again and again. Eunha's abdomen flexed. The soft flesh between her hips mounded to accept my cock into her. I grasped my little sister's hips and held her tight as I impaled her and made her mine.

When it had built enough, Eunha's climax seemed to deny her the ability to control her movements. Her hands fumbled at my chest and hips. Her legs tightly clutched around at my backside and her head rolled to the side. I felt her quim grip me and then she was cumming hard. Fluid coated our union and my little sister screamed out.

Some hundred feet away a group of concert goers must have heard her. They were walking back to their car like me and could probably see the two of us making love in the bed of my truck. My little sister was trying to contain herself but when I didn't stop pushing inside of her over and over she could do little to quiet her moaning.

The spectators would see the tiny pink-haired girl writhing and calling out through a voracious orgasm. They'd see a man, quite a bit larger than her, obviously driving her to such action with strong thrusts. Only we would know the truth, and having onlookers didn't stand a chance of stopping me from finishing off my little sis.

I did slow down so she could catch her breath. She looked at me, almost frustrated. "Oh my God..." she said, still trying to inhale and exhale deeply. She watched me, and quickly sensed by the very slow in and out movement of my hips that I wasn't finished.

"Aww, do you wanna cum Oppa?" she said, sounding like she was taunting me. "Do you wanna cum inside your little sister again?"

I did, desperately. I resumed my urgency.

"But you could get me pregnant Oppa..." she warned. "Are you gonna shoot your sticky cum inside your naughty little sister again...uhhh...even thou...oh fuck... even though I'm not on birth control?"

Her legs were pulling at me. One of her hands had my neck and the other found my balls, gently massaging them.

"But Oppa...oooOOO" she whined, "I'm only eighteen!...Ohfuckyourbig..." she cried as I buried my cock into her tight pussy roughly. "You shouldn't fill up your little sister...uhhh...with your... hot...sticky... cum "

I was close, and Eunha's words had brought me there. I'd never heard her swear before, let alone talk dirty with her brother's cock disappearing in and out of her as she practically begged for it.

"I'm gonna...ohhh... Eunha..."

I held onto her and let my lust do the rest. Her tiny frame writhed and accepted me, her teenage breasts shaking with each thrust.

"It's okay baby..." she told me, "cum for me big brother...ohhhh... cum in my little pussy... cum inside your little sister... get me ...FUCKKK... get me pregnant... I want it."

That was it, Eunha's tiny body, her hand massaging my balls, and her teasing words had brought me to my knees. I erupted into her.

It didn't seem possible, but nonetheless it felt like more than the first time. As I released rope after rope of forbidden semen into my little sister, I buried myself as deeply into her as I could. It jetted perfectly at the entrance to her womb. I coated her insides for the second time that night. And when I had all but filled my baby sis with everything I had, she trembled into a short but rewarding orgasm of her own. I could only move an inch or so within her without stimulating my own hypersensitive tip, but when I did I could feel a few last pumps of my cum added into little Eunha as she quivered through her own climax.

I held her close to me until I felt her pleasure subside. I picked her up and lay us down in the corner of the truck bed with the blankets around us. We were too hot to lay beneath one just yet but I made sure to keep Eunha warm as we lay there together.

Eunha spoke first.

"That was..." she seemed short of words, "the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I smiled at her affection. She snuggled close.

"You were perfect little sis. You ARE perfect."

She had the biggest grin on her face from my compliment. I loved seeing her so satisfied.

My hard member had not yet left her. If I wasn't so exhausted from, first the concert, and then the most amorous and sapping lovemaking I'd probably ever experience, I would have fucked my little sister again. I think she felt the same. She was totally limp in my arms, but we were both content to remain locked together at the hips with brother's cock within his own little sister.

"Now you came inside me twice!" she stated, "I can't believe how it feels, there's so much in me!"

She was right. Both times I had unloaded more into my little sister than I thought possible. I made a motion to slide my cock, finally, from inside of my teenage sister. Eunha stopped me.

"No...mnnnhhh... I want to keep it in me, just stay there a while." she instructed.

I obeyed, wincing as I returned the inch I'd pulled out of her tunnel. Both Eunha and I felt certain that she would be pregnant; there was no harm in letting my spunk warm her a while longer.

We simply remained there, quiet but for the sound of crickets and the distant voices of men disassembling the stage. Somewhere my friends were probably wondering where I was. The guys I had arrived with were probably still trying to get with one of the girls they'd brought or met at the concert. None of them would know, and I could never tell what had happened after I'd taken off toward the girl with butterfly.

I looked down at her, remembering how badly I'd wanted exactly this as I saw her across the crowd. But it was better than I had ever imagined. I had just made love to the most beautiful girl at the concert, and the most wonderful girl I'd always known.

"I love you bro," she said to me after a few moments.

"I love you too sis."

"You were better than I ever dreamed." she insisted, "I hope you aren't done with me now?" Her face had that puppy-dog look she always used on my dad. I loved it, but it wasn't necessary.

"No way Eunha," I promised, "I'm your brother, and I'll never be 'done' with you."

"Good," replied my little sister, "because I want you to fuck me and fill me up like you did everywhere we go... "

"Sure little sis," I laughed.

"In your truck...on my bed... at my school... in mom and dad's bed..." she prattled on. I caressed her abs and breasts lovingly as she spoke. When she mentioned our parents we both paused.

"What'll we tell Mom and Dad?" she asked.

"Nothing, obviously!" I responded without hesitation.

"No, silly, what will we tell them when I'm pregnant with my big brother's baby?" as if it was assured.

"We don't know that yet Eunha."

"Well if you didn't just get me pregnant, Oppa, you will soon," she said, matter-of-factly. Somehow, I loved the thought. My baby sister Eunha, walking around in public with the bump of her big brother's child...

I made love to my little sister again that night, hours later after we'd snuggled up in the cab of the truck and fallen asleep. I awoke to her spooning with me like she had that night long ago when we were camping. This time, my cock found the right place: inside my cute, eighteen-year-old, unprotected and willing little sister Eunha. It found there over and over again until I came inside her without a care in the world but to have Eunha in my arms.

Months later, the story could change if we kept up the way we were. But for now, both my little sister and I were glad that we'd gone to the same concert.