#I think he should get fucking sucked into a dark star and never be heard from again xoxo :3

[essektheylyss]

You know what's hilarious, if Ludinus was indeed a young man being traumatized by the end of the Calamity. Deirta Thelyss is almost certainly older than he is.

This is not relevant but I think Essek should bring this up, just to be a bitch about it.

[kenny-the-ken]

I Fucking Hate You!

All characters are aged up!!!! I really hope you guys like this fic!! Send me your requests guys, I love hearing from you sexy people!!

An argument had erupted between you and Stan, you two didn't argue very often, but when you did it was explosive, volatile and usually ended with you two going on a break before getting back together again a few days later, but this argument was different, so much different.

"Why is it always so hard for you to see things from my point of view, Stan! You only give a shit about yourself!" You shouted, slamming the door of your dorm in his face, letting out a groan, your head in your hands.

That was when you heard it. The door swung open and closed loudly behind you, there stood Stan, furious. The look in his eyes was dark, like nothing you'd ever seen before. You were a little scared, but somehow weirdly turned on by him.

"Not even gonna let me fuckin' talk?" Stan spoke as he approached you, gripping your hands and pinning them by the side of your head against the nearest wall, his face so close that you could feel his hot breath on your ear as he spoke in a hushed tone.

"Cause I think you'll be very interested in what I have to say." Stan spoke, his tone lowered, lust dripping from his tongue, his eyes had a primal look in them, before he closed the gap, your lips crashing together in a fit of passion and rage.

Stan lowered your hands, letting them go and moving his hand to between your legs, massaging your pussy through your sweatpants, a small gasp escaping your parted lips.

"I thought we were fighting?" You asked, your breath hitching as Stan sucked on the sweet spot of your neck, trailing wet kisses down the front of your throat.

"I think we should get our anger out in other more... pleasurable ways, don't you agree?" Stan said, his eyes lidded, before pressing his lips against yours once more, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, tugging at his soft, black hair.

Stan scooped you up, your legs wrapped tightly round his waist before throwing you on to your bed, moving to take his shirt off.

"I do agree, you gonna fuck me hard then?" You flirted, a smirk on your face as you began peeling your own top off, wearing no bra beneath.

"I'll make you remember exactly who this pussy belongs to." Stan whispered, moving on top of you his mouth attaching itself to your hardened nipple, causing a groan to escape your swollen, parted lips.

"Stan!" You gasped, as he looked up at you, bringing his mouth to meet your lips once more as he made quick work of stripping the rest of your clothes from your body as he stared longingly down at you.

"I'm going to absolutely ruin you." Stan whispered, before removing the last of his own clothes and rolling a condom over his dick, a smirk still plastered on his face.

And that's when he pushed in, not slowly, just all at once, and he set a fast pace from the get go, your back was arched, arms desperately tugging on the duvet beneath you as you moans flooded the room, Stan's own grunts and moans more deep and feral than your high pitched ones.

Stan pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders and he moved closer, thrusting his cock deeper into you, and giving your ass a hard slap as he kept up his ruthless pace.

"Fuck, Stan!" You moaned out, his thrusts never slowing, and you swore you lost your mind when his hand came down to rub circles on your clit.

"Don't want to argue now my cock's buried in your cunt do you, baby?" Stan replied, his breathing laboured as he kept up his quick pace, pushing himself as deep into you as he could possibly get.

"N-No, Stan... I-I'm getting close." Your moans were like the best song ever made to Stan, his hips rolling against you as his cock pushed you to the edge, your head thrown back and your mouth agape as your orgasm washed over you, and as your cunt pulsates around Stan, he saw stars, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier, before pushing himself in right to the hilt, and coming into the condom, his own moans and yours echoing through your dorm room.

"Fuck, y/n! T-That was... fuck." Stan spoke, desperately trying to catch his breath, his cock twitching inside you and gaining a moan from you, your own breathing irregular.

"It was incredible, Stan. We should argue more often." You joked as your boyfriend slid out of you, pulling the condom off and tying it before throwing it in the bin next to your bed. He lay next to you, pulling you flush against his chest. You could hear his quick heartbeat beginning to slow once he had finally caught his breath, and you pressed gentle kisses along his torso.

"I'm sorry for arguing with you, baby." Stan spoke, his hands running through your messy hair, a sigh leaving his lips.

"I'm sorry too, Stan. I really am, can we put it behind us?" You asked and your boyfriend responded with a nod and a chuckle.

"I just fucked your brains out, of course we can put it behind us." He laughed out, both of you giggling together, a tangle of limbs laying in your bed.

"I love you." You both said at the same time, causing more giggles to erupt between you two as Stan pulled the duvet over both of you, humming in content.

Best argument ever, you thought to yourself as you slowly began drifting to sleep beside your lover, your bare skin against his keeping you both warm on these cold South Park nights. Oh how you loved him!

[thezombieprostitute]

Changing Minds - Epilogue

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: Injured character, References to violence, SMUT. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.

Part 8

Series Masterlist

“N-N-Nick, you’re, oh, s-supposed t-to be, ah, resting,” you stammer as Nick continues fucking you with his tongue. He growls into your pussy at your words, his dark eyes telling you that he’s not stopping for anything less than another orgasm from you. He switches to your clit, gently sucking and licking, as he plunges two of his thick fingers into you, making you arch your back and moan. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so much pleasure in such a short time.

True to your word you’d held Nick’s hand as he was getting patched up. It really felt like he was just looking for an excuse to hold your hand and have you dote on him, but you didn't mind. He was prescribed bed rest and painkillers but he declined the latter saying he didn't care for the dulled senses that came with it. 

He practically begged you to not send him away for his bed rest. He'd sleep on your couch if you wanted but he needed to be near you in case of retaliation from Kent’s people. Your apartment building was still being watched by Nick's people so it was also much safer for him. You told him you’d be happy to take care of him while he rested in your bed and he smirked.

“So you finally believe me when I tell you I want you?”

“You heard that,” you commented. “I thought I’d said it quietly enough.”

“My hearing is better than you think,” he pulls you in for a kiss. “Looking forward to hearing all your whimpers and moans tonight. If you’ll let me.”

Your body is on fire. Forgetting yourself for a moment you hold Nick tight to you, letting go as soon as you hear his pained grunt. “Shit. Sorry, Nick. You really should lay down and get some proper rest.”

“Not a chance,” he snarls before kissing you again. “Finally got you, not gonna let a few injuries get in the way of being with you.”

“Exactly,” you breathe, pulling away from him. “You’ve got me, we’ve got time.”

“Nope,” he pulls you close again. “Gotta make up for lost time. All that time I didn’t see you for the wonderful, intelligent, strong, beautiful Lady you were.”

Thinking he’ll fall asleep as soon as he lays down, at most after you get in some cuddling, you smile and lead him to the bedroom. You undress and his eyes darken with lust. 

“Lay down for me,” he says, his tone just shy of an order. 

And that’s how you ended up coming on Nick’s tongue enough times that your brain melted. Now his thick, talented fingers are working their own magic as his eyes study you. He’s clearly looking for a reaction but you’re too lost in all the sensations to know what to give him. His stubble gently scratching your thighs. His mouth playing with your pearl. The sounds he’s pulling from you that you didn’t know you could make.

Then his fingers graze over a spot that has you seeing stars, stretching your legs open wider for him. When your eyes can focus again, Nick looks almost sinister and he rubs his fingers over that spot again, just long enough for you to react but not long enough to follow through on that ecstasy it gives you. He does it again and you whine, your pussy clenching around his fingers. 

“Please, Nick,” you rasp. 

He releases your clit, giving you some relief, and coos, “do you promise not to keep talking about me needing rest?”

“Y-yes, Nick.”

“Good,” he licks your clit again. “Because you are the best damn medicine in the world for me.” He moves his fingers over that same spot and, this time, doesn’t stop rubbing. He watches you come apart on his fingers and he moans at how beautiful you look. He’ll never get tired of hearing you chanting his name as he makes you come. 

You’re not sure at what point you passed out. You just remember waking up to Nick smiling as he praised you. 

“Nick,” you rasp. “I feel like I can’t move my legs.”

“Don’t worry my Lady. I’ll take damn good care of you.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you protest. 

“You want to take care of me,” he raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Then how about I get a condom on.” You moan at that and he starts to undress. 

You could tell that Nick was strong but seeing him without his shirt gave you an entirely new appreciation for how strong he really was. And an appreciation for how gentle he could be with you. If you could move you’d crawl over and start kissing his injuries in appreciation for how he had protected you. As it was, your legs were completely useless and Nick had effectively drained you of strength in all the best ways. 

When Nick finally removes his boxers you lick your lips in anticipation, making him chuckle darkly. “You are an eager Lady,” he comments.

“I’m also eager to make up for overlooking you,” you confess. “All those dates that led to nothing and I didn’t once think of you.”

Nick puts the condom on and moves onto the bed, hovering over you as he gives a deep, gentle, loving kiss. “No more regrets,” he says as he starts gently pushing his erection into you. The stretch feels so good and you moan appreciatively, kissing along Nick’s jawline until he’s fully sheathed. You swear you can feel him shaking with effort to be gentle for you. He whispers, “tell me when you’re ready for me to move.”

“Please, Nick,” you whine. “Please fuck me like you’ve wanted to.” 

Nick groans at your words and starts rolling his hips. You’re incredibly grateful he put so much time and energy into preparing you. His cock is so much more than any other lover you’ve had and he clearly knows how to use it. He’s hitting all of the spots you need and, as he increases his pace and force, you find yourself careening towards yet another blissful orgasm. 

“That’s it, beautiful Lady,” he grunts. “Come all over my cock. Wanna feel how tight you can squeeze me.” He sits back on his feet and readjusts himself, pushing into you at a new angle that has you gasping. His hand moves to your clit and he rubs it in time with his thrusts, pushing you over the edge and you squeeze him as you cream all over his cock, making him come with you. He lets out a few grunts in surprise at how quickly he came. 

The rest of the night is spent exchanging loving kisses and caresses. Taking care of each other as best as you can. 

When you wake up you still can’t really move your legs. Nick is still sleeping and you opt to let him stay that way. He has a lot of healing to do and you’re not really sure last night was actually good for his injuries. You struggle to get yourself put together enough to make breakfast, smiling as you remember what led to you having such rubbery legs. 

Putting some bagels in the toaster you grab your phone to read as you wait. Your jaw drops at the number of notifications. Going through all the messages from friends, family and coworkers you start piecing things together. 

Clark Kent’s rampage went viral. You had been clearly identified as a potential victim and many people were checking in to make sure you were okay, clearly upset when you didn’t respond right away. There were even some texts from your sister asking if you had the means to sue him. No doubt she just wanted to cash in on you getting some kind of settlement so you deleted those messages. 

There was also an email from Teach. You opened it quickly, afraid that your protection had been rescinded for overstepping. Instead, she offered you access to the Family’s lawyer. Not only for the attempted assault but, according to trustworthy witnesses and security footage, Mr. Kent had clearly implied that he’d been stalking you. This was clearly referencing his comment about seeing your pay stubs. 

Looking over some of the news coverage it was clear Clark Kent had finally taken a hit and he didn’t know how to respond. Stock prices in his companies plummeted as soon as photos of him in handcuffs surfaced. While he had made bail, it looked like he’d decided to lock himself up in one of his penthouses, refusing all interviews and public appearances. He even took his social media presence private for now.

You’re startled out of your reading by Nick’s gentle caress on your cheek. The two of you talk over everything as you make up a small breakfast.

“You’re really something else, you know that,” he asks. “I work for years trying to even make a dent into this guy’s reputation and in just a few weeks you’ve obliterated it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be old news before long,” you shake your head. “And he’ll be back on top in no time.”

“Yeah, but it’ll never be the same,” he retorts with a smile. “You’ve changed a lot of people’s minds about him and I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”

“Do you think he’ll retaliate somehow?”

“Possibly,” Nick’s smile drops. “Probably. But with both a police and public record, it’ll be a lot more difficult for him to make any move against you.”

“So you’ll probably have to go back to your actual work,” you comment. “I won’t have my guard dog around as much.” You look at the puppy dog plushie Nick had gotten you for your first gift. 

“You’re still my priority,” he asserts. “I will never change my mind about that.”

The rest of the morning is spent talking about what comes next. You’ve never felt more hopeful about the future. 

Part 8

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@alicedopey

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@terry2227

@texmexdarling

[simpxxstan]

Ramyeon Meokgo Gallae? (ksj one-shot)

pairing: ceo!jin x ceo!reader

genre: slice of life, angst, smut, exes to lovers, arranged marriage au

summary: when you fall into a trap that can ruin your life and the empire that you’ve built over so many years, your best way out is to marry the person your parents want you to marry. except that your parents want you to marry jin. who you have history with. who you’ve never quite gotten over. and who has led you to become the heartless woman you are today. 

word count: 11.5k

rating: 18+ 

warning: explicit sexual content, foul language, slow burn, a lot of angst and heartbreak, slight side sope *heart eyes*, namjoon can drive in this au!!

a/n: i’m sorry if there are tense and verb errors! i didn’t write the whole thing in one flow, and editing it all again at the end gets really confusing and cumbersome. i’ve tried to edit and rectify as much as possible, but please bear with me if there are grammatical errors! do let me know your feedback! it took me about a month to write this, and i haven't written something in so so long, i feel rusty. thank you for reading!

___

You pace in your room, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Your mind is racing at a million miles an hour, but you can’t see any solution. Not a single fucking one. You feel like ripping apart everything, but that won’t solve the problem. You’ve given so much to build your world, your empire. You won’t let it come down so easily. 

“You have-”

“No options left. I know, Yoongi, stop trying to remind me every minute!” Your voice becomes shriller with each word, but you know that your lawyer, your best friend and closest ally, is right, and that irks you the most. The television screen in front of you is still blaring out the news that threatens to bring down everything you’ve built with your blood, sweat and tears, and you feel like a helpless maniac. 

“Why can’t you marry him?”

You stop in your tracks, turning to look deadpan at the man sitting on the couch in a dark blue suit, his white hair parted and neat, making him look fairer than he is. “You know why.”

“Yes, but it was so many years ago. Y/N you’ve matured enough to move on.”

“STOP trying to counsel my feelings. I know I should move on. I know I need to. But, I can’t…” you falter, and Yoongi steps up, holding your arm and steadying you. He looks straight into your eyes and forces you to look back at him by putting a finger under your chin. “I’m not counselling your feelings. I know you hate him. And I know everything else too. I’ve heard enough of your drunken rants. And, I think, hell, I think it’s fair that you feel that way. But, now you have no other options left. And you can’t let everything go because of that one person, who broke your heart so many years ago. Be the stronger person, and use this opportunity to protect yourself, Y/N.”

You look at him, and breathe in. Deep breaths Y/N, use the one trick you’ve used to calm down your temper. “Okay.” You whisper quietly. He looks at you, eyebrows raised, clearly asking you to repeat. “Okay. I’m ready.” You nod, as he begins to nod. “That’s my girl.” He pats your hair once, and you know that his affection display metre has already broken and he’s going to go underground for the rest of the month. 

___

“Hmm.” you speak into your phone when you’re awakened by your sister’s call at 7 am, which was definitely early morning to you on a sunday. Considering that you had just gotten to sleep three hours ago. “Have you seen the news?”

“Nope.” You sit up in your bed. That was a bad starter. “Why?” you ask her. “Go switch on your telly. Don’t cut the call.”

You grunt and swing out of bed. You were already annoyed- your sister was unpredictable, you expected this call to be anything from a prank call to the announcement of the marriage of her favourite movie star. 

What you did not expect on the television, was a leaked video of a man speaking loudly to someone sitting next to him, “Such a slut- sucked my dick and begged for the money.” Everyone in the room erupts into laughter. The video gets changed to a reporter’s video who is supposedly making comments on the truth of this video. 

And, suddenly you can’t breathe. 

Somewhere, your sister speaks. Your phone buzzes with her voice. “Did you watch it?” You can’t even pick up the call. You whisper to yourself, “What do I do?” And you keep repeating it, like a mantra. Your sister keeps calling out your name, but you don’t care about her. All you want to do is to sink back into the same hole you crawled into twelve years ago. You can’t see the light that you grasped for yourself when you finally overcame it all. You can only see darkness. Pitch black. 

___

“I didn’t sleep with him before the deal. I swear I didn’t.” You explain for the third time to your father. You’re sitting in your office, and you can hear the people from the press right under your window. You may be on the tenth floor, but you can still hear the ruckus in the streets. It’s almost funny. This is not a rare sight to you, you’ve faced flak from the public and the media before, but this one is different. You couldn’t be brought to give a fuck for the past times, but this, it threatened to bring you down. Everything you had built would be ruined. And you couldn’t imagine living without the work you were so proud of. 

“Okay, then do you have any kind of proof that any intimate relations between you two began after the loan was sanctioned?” Your lawyer, Yoongi, asks you. He’s sitting right next to you, and out of the four people in the room, he has the least tense expression. The slight furrowing of eyebrows seems like he’s just annoyed to be woken up so early, but you know he’s concerned from deep within. He’s your best friend. 

That’s why he can read your eyes when you don’t respond to him. “Y/N, I need you to be honest.”

“We… had some conversations while the loan was still being sanctioned. It was a couple of days after we met for the first time, and we’d gone out for a drink-” you see everyone’s eyebrows raise, “but I promise, it was innocent! We didn’t have any physical interaction. Honestly, no touches. Just business.” 

“Then?” Your sister asks you, steely. 

“Umm, you know…”

“Sexting?”

“Let’s just say it could put me in a bad position.” You look at your fingers in your lap. 

“This is bad.” She sighs. 

“What do we do now?” Your father asks Yoongi.

“Nothing. We publicly deny it. We don’t show the chats unless he brings it up. He won’t bring it up, because he knows it’s gonna expose that he was equally interested in getting his dick sucked by you, irrespective of the loan.” 

Everyone looks at Yoongi, who’s calmly explaining everything while typing something on his laptop. “And then, you return the loan. With interest. Immediately.” 

Your protest, instantly, “I can’t, Yoongi, you know! Even our stocks have fallen in value since today morning, and I don’t have that kind of money. I can’t even take another loan from anyone. Not that anyone would be willing to give me any loan now.” 

“I’ll arrange-” Your father starts. You flinch, “No, papa. I’m not going to make another mistake by taking your filthy money.” He smiles, without any mirth. “You think I’m going to give you my money? Huh, no you fool. I wouldn’t associate myself with this scandal. You separated yourself from me ten years ago, I see the advantages of it today.” You stare at him. He has no idea how much his words sting you, how cruelly tears threaten to pass the threshold of your eyes, how nauseous you feel. 

“You’ll marry and get the money.”

At this even your sister’s jaw drops. “Papa-”

You laugh. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s the only way for you to get the money quickly, you silly girl. And I have the perfect candidate in mind.”

Yoongi asks, seriously. “And who is it?”

“Kim Seokjin.”

___

Madness. Sheer madness. You must be going crazy. Congratulations, Y/N. After years of people predicting it, it must have truly happened to you. Because there is no fucking way on earth you’re hearing Yoongi say to you, “I think he’s right.” 

You throw another book at him. 

“Violence isn’t the solution, Y/N.” “Oh yes, you motherfucker. It is the only solution.” You seethe in anger, ready to punch him again. Thank God that your cabin has blinds drawn. 

“I think your father is right.” Thankfully your father isn’t in the room, because if he heard the curses you emit at his mention, he’d straight up disown you. And while you’d love that at any other time, this is not the time for that. 

“You need to marry someone to get the money. Marry rich. Instant money. Boom, return loan. Divorce him after a couple of months, huh? Not so bad.”

Yoongi has the audacity to smirk, for which he is rewarded with another book. 

“Y/N, please talk to me. Normally.”

You take a deep breath. 

“What are my other options?”

“None.”

“What?” You spit. 

“You can’t get a loan. You don’t have that much money. Your company is going to come down in two days when the stakeholders back off. You’re probably never going to be trusted by anyone ever again because now everyone sees you as a slut.” You know that well, the television screams at you- “Y/N selling herself for her company?” Ridiculous. Far-fetched. Ugly. You had always been the business world’s most hated bitch for being a woman who had alone made it this far, without any help from her father, without any support from a man, in a world of suited men with egos the size of Antarctica. And now everything you had proved wrong in this world was coming crashing down on you.

“Furthermore, I think that by marrying him and falsifying a story of how you had known each other since childhood, which is not fully false though, we can create an angle showing you as pure. You never wanted to sleep with him, because you were devoted to your childhood love.” You stare at Yoongi, who was staring back at you with his cat eyes. It sounded perfect. And you had full faith in Yoongi. He’d handled your PR forever, from making you class president at school to now in your company, and you trusted him to execute this perfectly. 

There was just one problem. 

“Yoongi… I can’t marry him. I can’t marry… Seokjin.” The word feels oddly natural although foreign to your tongue, like the taste of blood. Your breath was cold, your body shivering.

“Y/N. I can’t pressurise you about this. But you know you have no options left. And Seokjin… may have changed. You definitely have changed. You won’t fall for his games again.” 

He looks at you earnestly, but you can’t see the hope he wants you to see. All you see is the end of the tunnel. The end of your glorious life of thirty years. You begin pacing in the room, a clear indication to Yoongi to shut up now. 

___

When you’re ready, Yoongi brings you out of your cabin, which was becoming stuffy. Your secretary is waiting for you. She looks at you with wide eyes. You laugh internally. She had always thought of you as her role model, and you knew well how it hurt to see the image of someone you saw as perfect to break. As Yoongi briefed her about your new schedule, you walked around in your office, full of people, who were usually dedicated to their work, but today everyone seemed more interested in gossip. Which immediately shut up as soon as you came into the vicinity.

“Ahem.” You cough slightly, getting everyone’s attention. 

“I have a few things to say. I believe you should know the truth first. Before the rest of the world does.” You breathe in deeply. You had no idea how to do this, it wasn’t even on Yoongi’s plan. But you ran on instinct. 

“What the video says, is a lie. I guess you expected me to say this, but it really is. I don’t know how to prove it to the world, nor can I prove it to you. But I did not sleep with that man, and I have never wished to do it either. What you did not expect is the incoming storm that our company will face. I’m well aware that we will go through pressure now. From all ends. I’d like to reassure my employees that no one is going to get fired. No layoffs at my place, please. I’ve seen the damage those can create.” Everyone murmurs, smiling softly.

“I just ask that you stay with me in this storm. We will brave through it together, and get out on the other side… with a big bang.” Everyone cheers, someone says “Fighting!” 

And you smile for the first time in the day, a smile of true joy. 

At least not everything was lost. 

___

When the press conference ends, Yoongi drops you home. “Rest well. You have a busy day tomorrow.”

But rest eludes you, as does peace of mind and any kind of serenity. You have one black hole of fear growing in the pits of your stomach, roaring to you one name. “Kim Seokjin”. As you finish bottle after bottle of soju, and drink yourself to sleep, you dream of him. It’s been four years since the last dream. They’ve always been bad dreams. Dreams that left you perspiring and breathless. Dreams that were reminiscent of reality, and memories you couldn't erase. You’re sure that tonight will be the same type. Nonetheless, tonight, when you dream of him, you smile in your sleep. 

He smelled of roses. Strong but enticing, just like himself. All evening he had done nothing but steal glances at you, and you’ve openly stared at him. The soju had opened up your inner desires too much, and you can’t stop staring at your two-month long crush. A solid year after you had joined college, you had seen him for the first time. He had been dribbling the basketball, while talking to his friends. And you had fallen in love. He was the first crush of your life, and you had no idea how to proceed. Except that you had put all hope on fate, which had brought you to this party with him. Not with him, obviously, but this party which included him too. 

And now he was looking at you. Everyone else was drinking, laughing, tipsily gossiping, even making out. But Kim Seokjin only had eyes for you. His ears were red, perhaps from the soju.Your entire body was red, because of his attention. You knew it probably meant nothing, but it didn’t stop your body from going on fire. You’d never felt anything like this before. Nineteen year old you didn’t know what desire was until you had met Seokjin. 

And now the basketball player, with the broadest shoulders in the team, was standing in the doorway, laughing at some joke cracked by his friends, none of whom you cared about. You were ready to leave, having had your fun for the night. You had met this very nice girl, and chatted with her. She seemed just as crazy as you were, and you had exchanged numbers. Once she bid you goodnight and left, you were ready to disappear too, for it was getting late. 

But then he called you from behind, his deep voice echoing in the cool night air that surrounded you two. Suddenly, it was just the two of you, and your skin burnt with his gaze. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You turned around, pretending to be nonchalant, but failing at it. 

“Ramyeon meokgo gallae?”

You had stared at him for a good thirty seconds, before fully comprehending his words. He had continued to stare back at you, refusing to blink. 

Finally you answered, “Sure.” You tried to hide your smile, but he quickly took your hand and led you to his car, whispering something about not standing in the cold for too long. 

He made sure you wouldn’t feel cold all night. That night when he took all of your firsts. Your protected life had been broken into by this wonderful man who made you feel like you were in heaven, and you had no complaints. He took it slow, staring at you in between sloppily kissing your cunt, letting you scratch his back when he thrust into you, biting gentle marks onto your neck. When he whispered praises to you of how good you’d been to him, and how thankful he was that he was your first, you had been giddy with pleasure erupting all over your body. 

You prayed, before going to sleep in his arms, that you could spend your life with him like this. 

The next morning, he was gone. But he had left a note for you. “Dear Y/N, I made ramyeon. Please eat it before leaving for college! I’ll see you at seven tonight?” You had smiled at the thought of tonight, smiled when you saw his marks all over your body, smiled when you ate the ramen. Later he would tell you, between kisses that made you forget your name, that he had to leave in the morning for a run in the field. He had to keep fit, else the coach would kick him out of the team, and the two of you would giggle. He would laugh with you to sleep, telling you joke after joke of what happened that day. It made your heart warm, when you heard him laugh with you, when you heard him call you baby with genuine affection, when he cooked meals for you before leaving every morning. 

Oh, what a fool you were.

And you were a fool again, waiting for him for the past half an hour, in a fancy restaurant. You half expected him to not turn up, without any reason, and your other half expected him to send someone on his behalf to eat with you. Both things you’d experienced before. 

You hadn’t seen him in years, except in your dreams, and occasionally in the news. He had founded a startup after college, which had soon become a reputed, well-established big business, and he was often on television. 

That’s why, when you saw a man with the broadest pair of shoulders you had ever seen, the plumpest and pinkest lips, and a broad expanse of forehead exposed by his gelled up hair, walking towards you, you didn’t know it was him. It was only when he pulled up the chair in front of you, that he said with a smirk. 

“Funny how whenever we meet you’re staring at me.” 

Instantly, everything clicks. His swagger, his ruthless smirk, his dark burning eyes, his glowing confidence. You knew it all too well. 

“You haven’t changed at all.”

“And you, baby.”

You flinch. He takes the hint, but he doesn’t drop the pet name. He simply smirks and calls for the waiter. Again, no explanation as to why he was late. No apologies. No excuses. 

“Please get us your finest wine. And two plates of fillet mignon.”

You’re still dazed by how he’s sitting right in front of you, and you’re not combusting into flames, nor launching yourself on him to punch the hell out of him. Funny how things change with time. 

“I heard you’re in a mess.”

“Everyone has heard that .”

“Why does your father need me then?”

You’re surprised. “Wait, you don’t know?”

“And how do you expect me to know?”

“I thought you’d know. Or you know, something of the sort. I don’t know why else my father would suggest you as the perfect man for me to marry right now.” You scoff, as he instantly retorts, “Perhaps he’s fallen for my handsome face too.”

“Spare me that nonsense, please.”

“Oh, baby girl’s all grown up.”

“I’m not going to be your little doll forever, manipulating me and feeding me lies.”

His smirk disappears.

“I never lied to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N-”

“Hiding truths also count as lies, you brat.”

“That was necessary for me to survive.”

“You’re lying to me again. Huh! Even now you can’t speak the truth.”

You stop talking when the waiter brings the food and wine. When he is finally gone, you look up at Seokjin, and you see something new in his eyes. Hurt? Regret? Sadness? You don’t know. And you couldn’t care less.

"You've got it all wrong Y/N," he whispers to you before sipping his wine. 

___

You don’t know when you got out of that restaurant, and ended up at a bar. The two of you had eaten your dinner in silence. For you, it was too difficult to talk to him, even look at him for too long, without tears hurting your eyes. You don’t know about why he didn’t talk though. 

But when you get to the bar, and gulp down your first glasses of martini, he starts talking. 

“Why does your dad want me to marry you?”

You’re sitting on stools next to each other, some would probably mistake you for colleagues. Your knees could’ve touched, your eyes could’ve met his. But you stared at your empty glass. “I don’t know. How does he even know you?”

“I’ve done business with him. Many times.” “Aah…” You grow silent, and he speaks, “Isn’t thinking of marriage too far-fetched? Especially since it’s just a professional relationship.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Huh?”

“Did you ever mention… that we… knew each other in college?”

Seokjin’s eyes never leave you. “He asked if I knew you, since we’re both from the same college. I had to say yes.”

You smirk. “Then he must’ve done some digging and found out that we…” you don’t know how to finish the sentence. Dated? Went out? Fucked? 

“But we covered everything up well?” Seokjin is puzzled, as he motions the bartender for another round of martinis. “Papa … has his ways and means.” You want to laugh at the universe. This was all your father’s plan to spite you. Force you to marry someone who he knew you had a bad history with. He must’ve found out somehow that your… relationship hadn’t ended… well. It was quite a ruckus in college when everyone had found out that The Seokjin was sleeping with Y/N, who was the daughter of the owner of all the top hotels in Seoul, Mr. L/N. And an even greater chaos when you two stopped seeing each other. 

Someone must’ve spilled. 

This time, you really do laugh out hysterically. 

“Everyone hates me.” 

“Stop being paranoid, Y/N.”

“I’m not!” You laugh again, “You hate me. My father hates me. He knows that you hate me. He knows that if he can force me to marry someone who hates me, he will have taken his revenge for the huge mistake I’ve made of outshining him in the corporate world.” 

You look at the man next to you. The first two buttons of his black dress shirt are open, revealing beautiful collar bones. He had always been gifted with the best body structure you had ever seen. “Let’s not get married. Please. I can’t marry… you.” You can’t stop the tears this time. “I’m not ready to go through this again. I’ll only end up with more scars. And I really don’t… wanna….” And you hide your face on the counter, putting your hands around your face. 

Seokjin is silent. He’s never seen you so bitter. He can’t help but think of what you’ve gone through these past years. What he’s put you through. And even if you don’t know it, he wants to take this opportunity to make it right. 

“You’re tipsy. Go home. Let’s meet tomorrow and finalise the contract.” You sit up at his strong, steely voice commanding you. “Contract?” “Yes, the contract of our marriage.”

He stands up, pays the bill with his black card, and takes your hand, pulling you away from the bar counter. When he drives you home, you fall asleep in his car, inhaling that scent of roses you had fallen in love with. Moments before you do, you ask him, as he puts on your seatbelt. “Just give me the money, why do you need to marry me?” You don’t hear him whisper back, “Because I’ve always wanted to marry you.”

___

You’re thankful that Yoongi is sitting next to you. Doing all the talking for you. After last night, you can’t stop thinking about how this is the worst thing that could happen to you. All your enemies were ganging up against you. When you said this to Yoongi, along with how your ‘date’ with Seokjin had gone, he merely smiled at your crazed whispers, “I don’t think so, Y/N”. You had felt like screaming at him, but you were too sleepy. 

Seokjin is sitting on the other side of the table, with his lawyer. It seems like a divorce, but it’s funnily a marriage contract. 

Seokjin and you have decided on all the rules already. The marriage is going to be for precisely 26 months starting from the month of the contract. You would get married in two weeks, and you’re going to shift to Seokjin’s condo. You would argue that your house is definitely bigger, and better located than his, but Yoongi insisted. The contract involved going to parties, events, social occasions together. Celebrating anniversaries, initially bimonthly, then two public anniversaries. Private events too, dreamy pictures of an ideal couple in love. 

“How about a honeymoon?” Seokjin’s lawyer, Hoseok, asks casually. Your jaw drops, eyes widening. You’re looking at Yoongi, then at Seokjin, but no one’s batting a lash. 

“I’m okay with it.”

“I’m not!” You lash out at Seokjin, who’s stunned. You wish Yoongi would stop staying silent, but he’s too busy staring at the other lawyer’s fingers. “I can’t go on a vacation with you.” 

This time Yoongi speaks up. “Why not, Y/N?”

“Because I can’t stay in a freaking honeymoon hotel room with this man. Plus, going on a trip would mean doing things together-”

“Not necessarily.” Seokjin’s voice is steely. “We can stay in separate rooms, do different things. No one will notice, if we arrange it well.” You’re still in disbelief.

“He’s right. You’ll have to make this believable, Y/N, to completely disassociate yourself from the scandal.” 

His words hit hard, and you find your courage recoiling. 

Seokjin is staring intently at you, he can see the wheels turning in your head. “What’s the loan amount?”

“Sixteen billion won.” 

He nods his head. “It’ll be arranged to be given all at once. Y/N can repay me in instalments, does that work?” He slowly reaches his hand across the table to hover over your hand, and you flinch. “Yeah, it’ll work.”

“Great!” Hoseok flashes you all a smile, that’s quite starkly different from Yoongi’s calm and grim attitude. Your best friend does seem quite captivated by the smile. “We have a deal?” You nod, as Seokjin signs the papers, followed by you. When you shake hands and look into his eyes, you hope he can see the resentment in your eyes and expect no forgiveness. 

___

Your father doesn’t walk you down the aisle, on the day of your marriage. You walk down it yourself, in your elegant white dress that has roses embroidered in beautiful colours and patterns all over the bodice. You don’t wear a veil, your hair is let down, and you’re walking with a stone cold face. As you near the altar, you can see a man looking impeccable in a suit, looking at you with focus and intent. Seokjin looks as fine as ever, and you’re suddenly conscious but you don’t care less. This is not your wedding, it’s just an act. And you’ve always been able to act since you were a kid. First in school plays, then in real life, when you’ve had to hide your fury and tears and put on a smile for your Papa’s sake. He doesn’t even smile seeing you getting married, although your mother and sister are already tearing up. You see Seokjin’s parents sitting right next to them, beaming. You don’t understand why. 

Yoongi is your maid of honour. He’s wearing a baby blue suit, and looking dashing. Hoseok is Seokjin’s best man. He’s smiling brightly at everyone in the room, but he doesn’t know that Yoongi keeps looking at him. You smile at the sight, at least someone’s happy in this arrangement. 

When you stand in front of Seokjin, you feel his stare burning down into you. It wasn’t necessarily negative or angry, it was simply… curious. Hesitant. Shy, but eager. You hadn’t seen this side of him earlier. He looks perfect, his black hair pushed up to expose his forehead, strong shoulders the focus of his suit, and his posture straight. You look like a nervous wreck, barely holding up. 

You deserve better from fate. 

The priest begins to read the vows, looking at Seokjin, who’s looking at you. When he reaches the crucial part, the words roll off his tongue, smooth like butter, as if he’s practised: “I do.”

It’s not so smooth for you, even though you have practised. You stutter, stumble, and force yourself to smile. The nerves have never got you this bad. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s because you hate the man you’re marrying? Maybe it’s because you feel like you’re Alice falling down the rabbit hole? Maybe it’s because this feels too realistic? Because you’ve dreamt of this over and over again when Seokjin would whisper secret wishes of putting his babies into you when you were young, wild and carefree? 

Maybe because you’ve always wanted to marry him. No one but him. Even if you hate him. He’s the only man in this world who you’ve ever really cared about. The flings who came and went after that were nothing but sexual encounters you needed for your body. Your heart had never been aroused by anyone but… 

“Do you, L/N Y/N, take Kim Seokjin, as your lawfully wedded husband?”

You realise that the priest has been repeating this sentence. You’re brought back to reality, and you’re hesitant, until…

Seokjin winks at you. 

Fucking winks at you. 

Your mind cannot process it, and you blush out of instinct. 

“I do.”

The man standing in front of you smiles with his eyes first, then his lips part in a beautiful smile. 

“You may kiss the bride.” The priest addresses the groom, who bends down, hesitant, eyes full of questions. You blink once, indicating you’re ready. He smells like roses, when his rosy lips press a kiss to yours. His hands grip your waist, and you melt to his warm touch. When he moves back, you’re both smiling. You don’t know what you’re thinking about. 

The past? Or the present? Or the future?

Your heart beats fast. 

___

After the ceremony is over, there’s an elaborate lunch. Your father sheds fake tears, you drink a lot of wine, and there’s many wishes for a happy married life. You smile too much, your jaws hurt. When Seokjin kisses you softly again mid-dance, when everyone is waiting for you two to show some affection as a newly-married giddy couple, he makes you forget everyone else. He’s always had this effect on you. You want to protest but you like it a little too much for even your own liking. Everyone is happy with how your wedding went, you can’t wait to crash at Yoongi’s place with soju and drink yourself to sleep. 

Since you’re too tired from the stress of the wedding, Hoseok drives you and Yoongi to the latter’s house. Yoongi’s house is radically different from your own. While you had gone for light pastels and airy sunshiney shades, Yoongi had the walls painted a dark grey. But you had to admit, Yoongi’s minimalistic art sense made even the grey look elegant. 

When you reach his house, you spot Yoongi trying to say something but hesitating. Reading his mind, you say, “Hoseok, join us!”

“No no, I don’t wanna barge into best friend time, I’m leaving!” Hoseok smiles widely, his entire face so bright even after the exhaustion of the day. Yoongi speaks up, finally mustering some courage, “No, Hoseok, you don’t have to leave! We’re just going to drink up. It’s cool if you stay. The more the merrier.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yup yup.” Your best friend needs no more confirmation. He’s already setting down three glasses and bottles of soju, and arranging the snacks. 

“Thanks!” 

Six bottles of soju disappear fast. You quickly learn that although initially, Hoseok is the one chattering the most, laughing out loud and basically hyped at everything, he eventually slows down his incessant flow of talking as the alcohol increases, and Yoongi fills in the gaps as he’s more talkative when drunk. They sit next to each other, unconsciously touching each other, and Hoseok is definitely looking at Yoongi with puppy eyes as he’s more and more drunk. 

You learn that Hoseok has known Seokjin for the past five years, and has now become his business partner and lawyer. Also his best friend. Naturally he knows everything about his past. Well, not everything. Even he doesn’t know exactly why Seokjin disappeared on you. He never got to that part of the story when narrating history in drunk rants. 

It’s fun bitching about Seokjin. Hoseok has a good sense of humour, and together the three of you have endless jokes about his narcissism, his stuck-up attitude, his babyish nature, and his winks. When you tell them that he winked at you during the ceremony, Hoseok falls into Yoongi’s lap, laughing. You’re too intoxicated to know if the fall was intentional. 

Ten bottles down, you’re too sleepy to continue talking. Your jaws hurt even more now because you’ve talked so much, but it’s a good pain. Your ribs hurt because you’ve laughed so hard after so, so many years. 

When you’re falling asleep on the floor, putting your arm below your head as a cushion, you see Hoseok already sleeping on a cushion right next to Yoongi, who’s staring at him intently. You smile at your best friend. Yoongi’s always been shy about any ideas of romance, and you think Hoseok’s the same under the mask of that bright, smiling face. It’s a nice thought to fall asleep to. 

___

Things don’t go back to normal immediately. After about a week, the media ceases to talk about the scandal. And more about other things, like how you’re spending your newly married life with Kim Seokjin, who had been dubbed as “Worldwide Handsome” after he had overtaken some famous K-drama actors in terms of looks in a recent poll. Although you had shifted into his house, you had yet to have much conversation with him. This was because his house had a convenient feature- it was a duplex. So the second floor was completely yours, and you also had a separate door to it. There was no need for pretence either when friends (read, only Yoongi, and sometimes Hoseok) came to visit. They all knew about the arrangement. The only people who didn’t know were Seokjin’s parents, but they had returned to the USA soon after the wedding so there wasn’t any undue intrusion from them either. To the outside world, you were a couple in their honeymoon period, rarely going out of your house because you were busy doing… coupley things? 

But in reality, you both were stuck up in your rooms, working from home. You barely came out of your new room, which you had quickly furnished as per your taste and brought your belongings over to, and Seokjin never came up to your floor. You would often get take-out, or make something easy in your shared kitchen, but your routine was quite different from Seokjin’s. You were more of a night person, so you’d wake up later than him and your entire day would go by on a +2 hours schedule than his. You never clashed. 

In that week, you had four encounters in all. The first day, Hoseok and Yoongi had come over, signing more contracts ensuring that you got the money to pay off the loan from the scandal. Seokjin made lunch for you all. Surely it was just a coincidence that it was the same thing he had made for your one year anniversary back in college and you had enjoyed it so much that he had made it every night for the week after that too. 

The second encounter was three days after that, when you had to talk to him about bringing over your furniture to your new room. It was a ten-minute discussion, with you standing in the doorway of the hall, him sitting on the sofa, and you couldn’t help but notice, wearing a dapper white suit that made his skin glow in the morning when you were barely awake and simply dressed in a blue dress.

The third and fourth encounter happened on the seventh day. Early in the morning he had appeared at your door, asking you if you were free for lunch. You really weren’t free, because of a meeting… that you could have rescheduled, to be honest, but he didn’t press about it when you said that you were not free. You were quite thankful that he had not insisted. Later, you had ordered pizza, and you were waiting near the door because the delivery man was about to arrive at any moment. Suddenly the door burst open and a very sweaty Seokjin burst in. It was nine in the night, and you’d expected him to have fallen him asleep because of his regular schedule, but here it seemed that he had just come back from… gym? “I didn’t know you worked out?” “Nope, that’s too much hard work. I run.” He leans on the kitchen counter, getting back his breath, and you ogle at his lean figure. “You’re…?” “I ordered pizza, waiting for that.” “Oh.” He proceeds to drink water, and in his hurry, he drips some of it on his shirt, which is already wet from sweat. “Would you like some? I’m not going to be able to eat it all anyway.” “Nah, thank you.” He smoothly walked away into his room. Maybe to shower? You didn’t want to think about it. 

That night, the dreams returned. The first time you had seen him play basketball in your college campus, his muscular arms on display in the sleeveless tank top he wore. Three weeks after that, he had given you that tank top. When you woke up, the dream still fresh in your mind, you walked up to your wardrobe and found the tank top. It had been too loose for you, and that was your excuse for never wearing it since he had left. But now, you suddenly wanted to wear it again. If it was yours, you had every right to wear it, didn’t you? Plus, it was a Sunday, he was most probably not at home. You had heard from Hoseok that Seokjin often spent Sundays with him and a few other friends from his work. You had the entire house to yourself, and frankly speaking you had been waiting for this day. 

It seemed, nothing was going to go according to your plans. 

On getting out of your shower, you decided to go down and make coffee for yourself. Putting on music on your phone, you walked down slowly. Wearing the tank top and shorts, you had gone into chill mode, finally getting a day to yourself when you didn’t have to work nor would you have to worry about anything else. 

You walk down the stairs in a house of complete silence, but when you put your foot on the first floor, four men pounce out of a room, showering you with bursts of laughter and boisterous shouting. You stare at them in complete shock, faces you do not recognise at all, except two. You notice now that there are more than four men- four stand in a line, shy but still giggling, among which Hoseok had his hand over his mouth hiding his smile.The other three were unfamiliar, until you see Seokjin step up from one side, his entire face red and embarrassed. 

“Noona!” All the three men who you didn’t recognise call out your name with adorable smiles. They’re grown up men, wearing adult clothes, but when they call you out, they sound like children and the smiles on their faces are childish. You want to squish their cheeks. Seokjin shushes them with a finger, and you smile at him. 

One boy steps up and bows to you. “Y/N Noona, I am Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook!” He’s tall, but not taller than Seokjin. He has many piercings and is wearing an all black outfit, but his entire demeanour is smiley and cute. Another boy steps up, “And I’m Jiminie, and this is Taehyungie!” They have smaller builds than Jungkook but Taehyung is definitely taller than Jimin and Jungkook. They stand with the brightest smiles on their faces. “They’re here from Chicago. They’re my cousins,” Hoseok explains, “but they love Jin hyung more than me! They’re here to see you specially.” You smile instantly, your heart having already warmed towards the boys. You love the bright positive energy that they’ve brought into the house, that’s otherwise so silent and boring. One-by-one you hug each of them, but before you can talk to them, Seokjin asks them to sit in the living room, and pulls you away to his room. 

“What’s up?” His hold on your wrist softens, but his thumb lightly grazes on it. “They know… about the arrangement… and the past.” You look up at him, and gulp. “Okay.” “Yeah- and they may say stuff that’s…” “They’re kids, I won’t blame them.” Seokjin scoffs, “Jungkookie is 24 now. Not a kid anymore. Not that he’ll say anything. It’s Jimin and sometimes Tae- they don’t know where to draw the line sometimes. They can be blunt.” You furrow your eyebrows. “But I won’t feel hurt about anything. Nothing was my fault.” Seokjin’s eyes become stern, and you feel him pushing you gently to a wall. “Are you sure? Let’s not blame everything on me.” “I’m just speaking the truth.” You don’t back down, and stare back at him. His hand slips higher up your wrist, to your arm, and he lifts it to check on a bandaid that you had put on your arm last night. He raises his eyebrows. “I cut myself while shaving my arms.” He sighs in relief and rubs it softly. “Be safe.” Before moving out of the cage he had enclosed you in, he picks up your arm and places a feather kiss on the skin just below the bandaid. It sends shivers down your spine, especially when he leaves you abruptly after that, leaving you cold and exposed. 

You waddle your way back into the living room.

___

You learn that although the plan was originally that the boys would meet at Hoseok’s place, the Maknaes had arrived at Seokjin’s apartment and had insisted on surprising you, in spite of your husband’s protests. You were thankful that they were high, truly. They had a lot of energy and made the house seem like a home again with their childish and chill behaviour. Hoseok was your age, but around the Maknaes, he was also young and wild. Now you see why Yoongi liked him so much. Even Seokjin was laughing, although there were multiple times he spoiled the laughter in the room with his awful jokes. 

You end up ordering pizza, and lounge in the living room. The television is blaring out some music, and in a corner, Hoseok and Jungkook are dancing like maniacs. Taehyung is clicking pictures of everything, laughing to himself. Jimin is busy making amazing cocktails for all of you. And what about you and Seokjin? You’re probably sitting this close after years, and finally doing an inkling of what the newspapers expected y’all to be doing. But you were overthinking it. He was merely sitting next to you. So what if you were slightly leaning into his body, attracted to the warmth? So what if you could smell the roses on him? So what if he had wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and was gently patting your hair? Nothing suspicious. Jimin was wiggling his eyebrows at you both for nothing. 

___

“Y’all are comfy.” Taehyung asks out of the blue, when you all are huddled around the pizza, on the carpet. Instantly you’re blushing, and Seokjin moves away from you by an inch. “It’s nothing,” But Tae doesn’t stop. “Even if you’re upset about the marriage now, Jin hyung, you and Y/N have great chemistry.” Jimin nods and pipes in, “And great history.”

Hoseok pinches them, but they seem oblivious to it. Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice as he’s wolfing down the pizza slices. But there’s an odd tension forming between you and Seokjin. You can’t deny that although you tried to stay away from him, you had often unconsciously leaned into the familiar comfort that Seokjin provided. It was something your mind did not control, it was something your body caught on to by default of memory. 

It was awful. You hated that you felt nice by sitting next to him, not even exchanging words. Merely the idea that he was there with you being comforting made you hate yourself. 

Hoseok broke the silence by asking Tae if he wanted more pizza, and the young boys continued their excited chattering again. 

But your mood did not go back to what it was before Taehyung ruined it by speaking the truth. The truth you detested. 

___

The weeks after that passed by smoothly. You began to go back to work, people congratulating you on the wedding, and smirking at you when hinting about your super-secret honeymoon. The media went back to talking about things unrelated to you, your life was functioning just fine. 

Except one thing. 

Seokjin. 

You two had fallen into quite a rhythm. You would get up, shower and go down to the first floor. You would find Seokjin almost leaving the house. He’d look at you once before leaving, and you would find breakfast on the kitchen counter. After finishing breakfast, you’d leave the house. In the evening, you would ask Seokjin if he would be eating at home, to which he would reply in monosyllables. Since you generally returned home earlier than him, you would do the dishes, order some kind of takeout if you didn’t feel like cooking, or try to cook something and end up making a mess of it. Then you’d eat dinner by yourself, and go up to your room. If Seokjin did return home for dinner, he would eat whatever you had conjured and then go into his room. 

Then repeat the entire routine the next day. 

It wasn’t a bad routine. All your life you had craved to live alone, and for the last ten years you had enjoyed that. You’d feared marriage would take away that independence, but this arrangement worked very well for you. Too well, in fact. You probably would never want to change it. 

There was just one issue that irritated you. 

It had been three weeks since the last time you had gotten laid. And the last time was with the motherfucker who began the scandal. So when your hormones decided to go berserk, you had little to help yourself with. 

On one hand, it felt weird to go find a random date. Firstly, if the media found out, it would be the end of your life. And … perhaps less importantly, and honestly, you didn’t even know why it came up in your mind, but it felt strange to fuck someone else when the man you had always wanted to fuck was literally in the same house as you. 

On the other hand, you found no sensible reason in your mind when your hormones hit the horny extreme of the scale at midnight and you felt your finger inching downward and your panties slick. You knew very well you could use your vibrator to relieve yourself, get yourself just one high and that would be all. But you didn’t want to. Mostly because seeing Seokjin every day made you think of him. And how he felt. And how he had loved you. Once, before it all went wrong. 

___

“Three cheers to Y/N for coming back with a bang!” 

Everyone cheered loudly, clinking glasses and you smiled. It was a work dinner, one after many days. Everyone wanted to drink their recent stress away by getting together. Most of your floor was here at this work dinner, but you were paying for it all. It hurt your pocket, but it was a good move to keep morale boosted. Naturally, everyone was drinking without any control. Soju, whisky, beer, vodka, tequila, cocktails. Nothing was banned from the table tonight. And to be fair, even you enjoyed unwinding with your colleagues after a stressful month. 

Pretty soon, you all were drunk and chaotic in the bar that you had booked for your party. Despite some of them being older than thirty-five, almost everyone was dancing and chaotically singing to the karaoke in the corner. Some had fallen asleep on the couch, one was crying as they were missing their ex-boyfriend, and only one person was barely drunk but they were wolfing down the samgyeopsal with too much fervour. 

You were among those people who were drunk-dancing and singing in the worst tunes. You had always been close to your colleagues- not particularly friends, but you knew you could count on them. So now, when they compelled you to do girl-group dances with you, you didn’t think twice before joining. When a boy-group song came on, you all swooned at the visuals of the handsome idols, laughing and dancing to the beat. It was quite the mood, lasting till 2 am in the night, when the bar owner came to ask you to wrap up, as it was getting too late. You were too inebriated to understand his words clearly, but you got the gist from what your colleagues explained to you in spite of being equally drunk. Some readily bid their goodbyes, bowing to you for such a good evening, and clicking selfies with you. Others were drooling on the couch, and sending them home was quite the task. You didn’t want the drunk-daze to wash off you, but all these efforts made you more and more sober. 

When you came out on the street, opening your phone to call Yoongi to pick you up, you found a text from him, saying that he was busy tonight. Puckering your lips in an irritated expression, you considered who else you could call. You briefly considered Seokjin, but it would be too much of an inconvenience for him. Plus, you didn’t want to risk being around him when you were drunk. You’d either get incredibly desperate to kiss him, or kill him. 

Kim Namjoon. Your finger hovered over the contact one time before you decided to hit the call button. Namjoon was used to this, anyway. 

“Hello?”

“Hi-” you could hear your words slur, and slight shuffling from his end indicating that he was probably sitting up from bed. 

“What’s up, Y/N?”

You giggle at his concerned voice. “Nothing babe.”

“Y/N, are you drunk?”

“Is it that evident?” You giggle again. 

“Where are you?” You could hear him getting up and walking. You look up at the flashing signboard of the bar, which was now closing down, and tell him the name. 

“Okay, hang on. I’m coming.”

______________

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in Namjoon’s car, smiling at how he was focusing on driving through the dark streets of Seoul. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“But it’s so past your bed-time.” He laughs. “You remember?” “Of course, Namjoon.” It’s a red traffic signal. He looks at you for a second too long, and you know what he’s thinking. 

“I miss you.” You lean over to kiss his cheek. You can feel that it’s warm, but he’s always been like this. Quietly shy. He clears his throat and drives on as the green light flashes.

“How’s Seokjin?” He asks you after a while. 

“He’s … fine?”

“I’m happy for you.”

You laugh. “You don’t have to be.”

“But I’m not pretending. Really!” He smiles at you, his eyes honest. You can see that he’s not lying. Namjoon has never lied to you. Unlike Seokjin.

“I know you love him. Even after all these years.” You smile at him fondly. You can’t even be mad at Namjoon for speaking the truth that you’ve tried to hide so desperately. He knows enough of your past to have figured out the truth of your arranged marriage with his intelligence. 

When he looks at you again, staring deep into your eyes. You can feel the blood rush to your face, and you don’t know what you’re thinking but you ask, “Can I kiss you?”

He smiles, his eyes bright because of the lights on the streets. 

“No, Y/N. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

You can see the pain in his eyes. But this is why you love him. He knows what’s good for you, and never pushes you to do what he wants. 

Oh, how you wish Seokjin could be like this. 

That’s the last thought before you fall asleep in his car. 

___ When you wake up the next morning, everything seems to be aching. Your head, your arms, the soles of your feet. When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by a sight that intensifies your headache. 

“Seokjin?” 

He’s literally staring down at you, sitting next to you in your bed. You realise you’re still wearing the clothes you wore at work, and then to the party, last night. You probably smell awful, and look even worse. You’re half scared that Seokjin will scream at you for waking up late and missing work. 

But that’s when it hits you. There’s enough sunlight pouring in from the window for you to understand it must be at least past 10 am. And Seokjin is sitting in a t-shirt and shorts, his hair ruffled, and a frown on his face. Isn’t he also missing work?

“Where were you last night?”

“There was a work dinner.”

“But whoever brought you home was not your colleague.”

Your eyes widen. “How the fuck do you know?”

“I know every employee that works in your company. I’ve never seen this one’s face before.”

“What the hell, Kim Seokjin,” you groan, while trying to sit up. But he’s sitting too close for you to sit up without kicking him. 

“I’m asking you something.”

“What?” you snap.

“Who was he?”

“Namjoon.”

“Yes, he said that. That’s not what I’m asking.”

“He’s a friend.”

“Really?” He raises his eyebrows. You lean in, taking his challenge. You’re almost breathing the same air as him, and your breath hitches slightly. “Yes,” you tell him, not looking away. “Then why didn’t he come for our wedding?” You’re a little stunned, but you retort. “He’s not that close.” “Yet, you called him instead of me to pick you up when you were drunk. Yet, you clung to him when he brought you home when you weren’t sober. Yet, you’re defending him, right now as we speak.”

“Ugh!” Seokjin’s rapping at this point, his words coming out so fast. He’s always been good at arguing. 

“Why are you so interested to know?” You stare back.

“Why are you defending him?” He stares back. 

You stay like that for two minutes. Two solid minutes, because it’s so silent that you can hear the clock. 

You’re the first to give up. “Okay! We were a little more than friends.” 

His jaw clenches, you can see the cogs turn in his head. 

“So what?” 

“Nothing.” He gets up, walking away slowly. His long legs on perfect display as the shorts hang low on his hips.  

You ask again before he can leave the room. 

“Seokjin?”

“I didn’t know you dated after me.”

He pauses, looking back at you, his hand on the half-open door. 

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” 

And he leaves you speechless. 

___

The next few days, you and Seokjin hardly spoke to each other. Even if you were sitting together on the couch watching the news, even if you were both making coffee in the kitchen, even if you accidentally bumped into each other in the house. He seemed to be purposely silent. Every effort to start the conversation was made by you, but whenever you asked him anything he’d either grunt or nod. 

“I don’t know why he’s behaving like this. I mean, it’s not like we’re talking a lot anyway, but this is just too odd. He’s never this silent. Even last week, we were joking while watching a movie together. He bought me food last Thursday. But now- it’s all back to zero. No progress. I don’t know what’s up.”

You rant to Yoongi, who’s furiously typing on his laptop, next to you. 

“He’s acting up.” “What?” You gulp your coffee. “Why would he do that?”

“He wants attention. Y/N, is it that hard to understand?” You scornfully laugh. “He has enough attention. All the media can do is talk about him anyway.” Just a couple of days ago, Seokjin had modelled for a magazine featuring his success story. “Why do you need to model? It’s a fucking business magazine, publishing a business article. Why do they need you to wear Louis Vuitton and pose?” Seokjin had merely smirked, and said, “Because I look good.”

“No, you thick headed girl. He wants attention from you.” 

“Why?” You’re genuinely annoyed at Yoongi now for his ridiculous statements.

“He wants you to give him a chance to explain. For the past.” Yoongi finally looks up from his work. “Talk to him, maybe. Tell him why you feel what you feel. Give him another chance.”

You scoff. “Not even in his wildest dreams.”

“At this point, you’re just being unreasonable.”

“Huh?” 

“You can trust a random guy like Namjoon enough to drive you home when you’re drunk, but you can’t trust your husband?”

“Namjoon is not a random guy!”

“But you’ve known him for just a year.”

“He treats me much better than Seokjin, anyway. That’s what counts.”

“Sure, Namjoon is a great guy. No denying that. But Seokjin deserves another chance, I think.”

And with that, Yoongi went back to his laptop.

___

But you had no idea what Seokjin had been up to recently. When you were talking to Yoongi, he was sitting in his car, waiting for a certain individual to show up. He was wearing his shades, although he was sitting inside his car. He had worn black on black, to bring out his most formidable side. 

“Hello?” Namjoon got into the car, looking quizzically at Seokjin. He was wearing a loose plaid shirt and shorts, his hair cropped really short. How did Y/N even like him? “Why did you call me here? And how did you know how to contact me?”

He pressed a finger on his lips, shutting Namjoon up. “You know very well why.” Namjoon stared back at him. “... no?”

“Are you this dumb?”

“Generally, no. Your presence has not changed that status, contrary to what you might be thinking. Seokjin scoffed and got straight to the point. “How do you know Y/N?”

“Huh?” Namjoon was a little taken aback, but recovered quickly. “We’ve known each other for a little over a year. We dated for a few months, then we were friends.”

“Just friends?”

“We did sleep together occasionally. But we were both too scared of commitment to date seriously. Especially because I knew that if I date her, I would fall in too deep to ever be able to move on from her. I couldn’t do that to me, nor to her, not when I knew that she still loved you.”

Now it’s Seokjin’s turn to look incredulous. 

“She does not love me.”

Namjoon smirks. 

“Sure. That’s why she’s cried endless nights for you, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you left her.”

Seokjin is too surprised to continue. 

“What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Namjoon scoffs again, but before Seokjin can recover his senses, he stepped out of the car. “If your little interrogation is over, I have somewhere to be. Talk to her. Goodbye.”

___

“To Y/N!” The menace known as your husband winks at you again, and you can’t help but choke on your wine as you drink to the toast he raised to you.

It’s been two months since your marriage, and your father insisted that you two host a two month-anniversary. You don’t know why you agreed to it, maybe because you didn’t want the rumours to come back. You wanted your marriage to last. At least in the eyes of the public. Not in your own life. 

Everyone claps, and someone begins whistling, “Kiss! Kiss!” as if it’s a bloody kiss cam in a baseball match. Shockingly, everyone, including Hoseok, the Maknaes whom he brought along to the party, and Yoongi, join in the chant. 

Jin’s lips twitch slightly. You know he doesn’t like this either, but when he leans in, you close your eyes and let him take over. 

And take over he does. 

He doesn’t let you breathe as he kisses you, his mouth slightly open, his breath sweet like roses, his tongue barely prying into your mouth but you part nonetheless because you like his gentle force on your small lips. His tongue swipes over your lips once, making you gasp and smile into the kiss. It’s a close like old times, you can taste the wine on your lips and you can’t help but want more. 

“Y/N…” he whispers as he moves back slowly. 

You bite your lower lip. 

“I love you.”

It’s awful timing, and you almost miss the words. It slowly registers into you what he just said. And you breathe in, parting your mouth to stay something, but he interrupts you. 

“And I’m sorry.” 

You don’t know what to say, so you just stay silent. He looks at you in expectation, but there’s too much going on for you to comprehend. You’re overwhelmed, and right now the dominant emotion is one of extreme longing. So you do what your heart and body tells you to do, instead of what your brain asks you to do. 

You pull his hand, and take him away from the banquet hall where you had organised the party. Once you’re outside on the isolated stairs, dimly lit and no one’s around you, Seokjin looks at you with confused eyes, looking like a tiny puppy. You smile in endearment, before pulling his lips into yours. And he doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Y/N…”

“Shhhh…”

He kisses you harder, pushing you against the wall, your bare back hitting the cold stone, as his hands slide up your ribbons along your waist. You know how turned on he is by the growing force in his touch. When he pulls back, you’re unable to breathe, and you visibly pant. You’re sure your lipstick is ruined, and he smirks at you. 

“Ramyeon meokgo gallae?”

___

You know that everyone back at the party must have a million questions, with the host couple disappearing in the middle of it. But you couldn’t care less. Not when his lips are on your neck, sucking and biting softly, and your hands are tangled in his smooth locks. You’re already turned on beyond control. It’s only now that it hits you with full force how much you had missed him. For the longest time, you had been too shy to expose your body to anyone else and tried to take care of your needs by yourself, the memories of Seokjin were too strong. But when you did allow someone else to touch you, you became reckless and thoughtless. You stopped caring about making love. It was just fucking someone new every weekend, and then moving on. Namjoon had threatened to change that, but he had stepped back in time. He knew that he would be the only one falling in love, and you did not want to break his heart. 

But tonight brought back the memories of your first night with Seokjin. The night when you had lost your innocence and your heart forever to the one man who could make your heart warm with a simple smile and wash away all your worries with just a cute face. 

He’s struggling to take off your dress, and you giggle at how concentrated he is, his eyebrows furrowed. “Seokjin-” “Hmm?” He looks at you, his gaze soft and tender. 

“Can we take it slow?” 

Realisation hits him like a storm. He steps back. “I’m so sorry-” “No!” “No, I’m sorry if I rushed you.” You cup his face in your palms. He continues to whisper apologies, but you press a kiss onto his lips to shut him up.

“Stop.”

He looks at you, his face small in your hand. He looks just like he did all those years ago, cute but handsome. 

“No, let me explain.”

He takes your hand and brings you to the couch. You both sit down, your hands clasped in his own. “Let me explain why I left you in my last year of college.” You shake your head, not ready to ruin this moment, but he doesn't stop. 

“When I started seeing you, I did not know who your father was. I was scared- when my mother took ill, I had to peddle drugs to continue my education and provide her with a decent treatment. When I found out that your father was a big-shot businessman, I had to detach myself from you. Because if he knew that we were together, he would’ve hurt you. And it was easier for me to see you hate me rather than hate everyone else around you because of me. But…” You stared at him, waiting. “Go on?”

“There’s, umm, more.”

“Yes?” You ask, your mind hazy with all the information. 

“But I was not able to hide from your father. He found out about us, and he threatened to send me away from the country to separate us. I didn’t have any option but to move away from you. I’m sorry.” His voice wavers when he notices the silent tears falling from your eyes, you biting your lips. 

“Y/N… don’t cry, please.”

“No no, but there’s something I don’t understand…”

“How I founded the startup and the story moved on till here?” You slowly nod your head. “When your father forced us away, I was hell-bent to take revenge. I needed to show him that I was worth his daughter’s hand in marriage, even if we never ended up together.”

You gasp. “So the scandal…?”

“When I disappeared and came back after a few years to start my company, you father had not recognised me at all whenever we met.” Seokjin laughs, “but I had never forgotten him. The scandal was a coincidence. But even if it hadn’t happened, I was determined to find my way back to you, Y/N.” He picks up your hand and kisses it softly, and you feel a single tear fall on your fingers. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. 

You have nothing to say, you’re rendered speechless. You simply lean forward to kiss his forehead, and stay like that for a while. “I’m sorry if I ruined the mood.” He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh out loudly. It’s good to hear his high-pitched laugh after so long, and you look at him fondly. “I’m sorry too, Seokjin,for hurting you.” “Don’t apologise, love.” He hugs you gently, and you melt in his embrace. 

“Thank you.” You whisper in his ear.

“For?”

“Spoiling the mood. We needed to have this talk now. We can always do the nasty later.” He laughs out again, your bodies shaking. He presses a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you, baby.”

You smile, your heart finally at peace.

“I love you too, Seokjin.”

[daphnaie]

*~ drunk on him. steve harrington x reader (smut)

Summary: You're finally brave enough to kiss Steve at a party and one thing leads to the next. (18+)

Warnings: smut, fingering, a bit of dirty talk, steve being his usual irresistible self Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Taglist: @taylorsmylover Let me know, if you want to be added to my Steve taglist.

It’s not like in the movies but at the same time it is.

Steve slams the door shut with his foot and presses you against a wall, not once leaving your lips. It’s a mess of hands tearing at clothes, running through hair, grabbing the back of each other’s necks.

The beat of the music pulsates through the house, mixes with people laughing, heavy footsteps, something breaking downstairs. It’s all muffled here, in the darkness of the guest room, as you kiss your friend for the very first time.

No, it’s the second time.

The first time was on the stairs, just a minute ago, when the tequila made you brave and a year of yearning and teasing and flirting over the counter of Family Video came to crashing halt.

He tastes like alcohol and the promise you broke when you swore to yourself that you would never start something with Steve Harrington, no matter how cute his smile is. His kiss is hot and burning and longing – one year of built up sexual frustration unloads itself in it and you welcome the heat with open arms.

The both of you tumble through the dark room, drowning in the kiss, until the back of his legs hit a couch. He sinks down into the soft cushion and pulls you with him. Apart from him for mere moments, you use the second of freedom to get out your shirt before your on his lap and his tongue pushes into your mouth.

He groans when he feels your bare skin against him and the sound is electrifying. You’re pretty certain that you’re already leaving wet marks on his light jeans.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he pants and in response you bite down his lower lip. He retaliates quickly, his hands begin to knead your breasts and you gasp. He’s grinning, you can feel it, when you rut down against his thigh as he twists your nipples, drawing a soft cry from you.

“Should we …” Kisses on your neck, sucking, biting, it’s driving you insane. “Should we … take …”

“Take your time?” you ask breathlessly. He hums. “We can do that later.”

“Later?” He stops.

Please, oh god no, please don’t get second thoughts about this, you think to yourself.

“Later,” you repeat, a bit more caution in your voice.

“This isn’t a one-time thing?”

“Do you want it to be?” Please say no.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Not if you’re fucking as good as you’re kissing.”

“Fuck,” he breathes before his mouth claims yours again. You moan into the kiss, pressing against him. You want to feel him, all of him, now.

A finger trailing up the inside of your thigh, stroking over your clothed core and you whine.

“Jesus, thank God, you’re wearing panties,” he murmurs, “’would have come right then and there if you didn’t.”

The words cause your insides to flutter and a familiar knot begins to form. Shit. He knows what he’s doing, that’s clear as day when his finger slips underneath the fabric. He finds your clit in record time, circling it, pressing against it, and now the both of you moan.

“You’re soaking, baby …”

You wish you could see him now as his fingers get to work in the most delicious pace. But it’s too dark so for now your imagination must suffice. Your chest heaves as he draws moans and whines and cries from you and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your high is close, so damn close …

“Don’t stop,” you whimper, rutting against him feverishly. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop …”

He laughs – it’s dark and deep and something you’ve never heard from him before. “Couldn’t stop if I wanted to …”

The knot breaks.

He flicks over your clit in the most tantalizing way and stars explode in front of your eyes. Legs shaking, head falls back, jaw slack, mouth opened to a silent scream – Steve hates that he can’t see you in this very moment – and your orgasm crashes down on you. He doesn’t stop, no matter how much his wrist must hurt by now and guides you through your orgasm. You follow him like a moth to a flame.

When your breath begins to slow, he’s quick to flip you around,  yanking your skirt and panties off of you. There’s rustling of clothes to be heard and when he’s back on top of you, he’s naked. Shit.

“Steve,” you whimper and he stills in his movements. “I need you …”

A chuckle escapes him, nervous, impatient. “Thought you’d want to stop …”

“Never.”

And then he’s inside of you and a sound leaves your mouth that you didn’t know you can make. He sighs, deeply, before slowly sinking completely into you. His dick is the perfect size, stretching you in the most delicious way, and fuck, you can’t wait to feel him move.

“You feel so good, baby,” he mumbles. He’s pressed against you know, holding you tightly, and it suddenly feels so intimate, too intimate. Legs wrapping around his waist, you press him down even further. He gets the hint. You feel the grin against your neck and as he bites down, he finally begins to move.

His thrusts are anything but sweet and slow and you are thankful for that. He sucks on the skin of your neck, leaving you with marks for the whole world to see, as he thrusts into you. It’s fast-paced, bruising, mixed with his moans and grunts and soon you feel the knot inside of you form again.

You grab him by the shoulders, squeezing them, looking for support as he rocks into you, the sound of it turning you on even more with each passing moment. There was a fire burning in your stomach and your eyes rolled back, sounds not from this earth leaving your mouth. You’re drunk on pleasure, drunk on his cock, drunk on Steve.

“Dreamt about this, y’know …” His breath is hot against your face. “Dreamt about fucking you every … goddamn … night.” Each of his last words is accompanied by a deep thrust and you moan his name.

“Fuck, yes, want you to scream m’ name…”

Pleasure shooting through your body, pooling in your midst. Steve sits up and you whine at the loss of contact, but he grabs your legs, throws them over his shoulders and then continues to fuck you relentlessly, perfectly. The angle he hits now is so much sweeter, so much better, and when you feel his hand on your clit again, you know you’re close.

So is he, you’re guessing.

His breaths are ragged and heavy, your name echoing into the darkness like a prayer, as his body rocked against yours. You arch your back, bucking up, muscles clenching around him. You want to feel him, want to hear him cum inside of you. His fingers are still moving in a brutal pace and you feel the orgasm approaching. Close, so very close …

You gasp and moan and whine and he drinks your sounds up.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

Does he really has to ask? “Y-yes, Steve,” you groan, legs beginning to shake.

“Are you gonna scream my name, baby?” It’s not a question, it’s a demand – and you’re eating it all up. In this state, you’d do anything for him. Anything and everything.  “Can do this better than last time, right?” His thumb presses against your clit. You’re a mess when he continues, voice dripping with lust. “Be loud, baby, fuckin’ scream … let ‘em hear I’m fuckin’ you.”

So close …

His words are like a drug to you. He lets himself fall forward and finally he’s close again. You kiss his shoulder, bite down on it, his pace quickens, the knot tightens.

So very close …

Hair sticking to his forehead, breathless moans falling from his lips … and colors explode in front of your eyes.

The orgasm hits you with a wave so powerful, you feel you’ll pass out any second. You clench around him, fingers scraping over his back, leaving red stripes, and come with a moan that’s way too loud and his name which sounds way too dirty and that sends him over the edge too. Steve comes, loud and messy, head nestled into the crook of your neck.

You don’t know how much time passes between your orgasm and Steve beginning to softly kiss you. Your chests are still heaving, his body is pressed against yours, sweaty and hot and beautiful. The world is still spinning when he whispers:

“You okay?”

You want to laugh but you’re too exhausted. “More than okay.” A pause. “Slightly embarrassed.”

“Why?”, there’s worry in his tone.

Your eyes fly open. “No, not because of what just happened … because we were so loud.”

His lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, not like the ones you shared only minutes ago. “Good for them. The whole party deserves to know who made you cum like this.”

Now, you do laugh. “You’re so arrogant.”

A peck to your nose. “And you’re beautiful.”

“You can’t see me, Harrington.”

“Don’t need light to know you’re beautiful.”

masterlist

[ahungeringknife]

Cuddler

February 15

Warning for casual nudity, and post sex, I guess if that's a thing that needs to be warned for?

--

Eric stared at the ceiling not knowing how she felt really. This probably should have been more… meaningful? Next to her the other person in bed with her moved around before putting an arm around her. She knew she didn’t like that. Delicately she picked it up by the wrist and took it off her sheet covered chest.

Grey pushed themselves up onto their elbows and looked over at her. “What? Not a cuddler?” they asked. It was still odd hearing their feminine voice when their voice was usually so smoky and dark. Eric just shrugged. “Something up?”

“I’m trying to decide if I liked that or not,” she said.

“What!” Grey cried. “You need to decide? You sure liked it when I ate you out,” they were so indignant about it too.

“It was alright,” Eric said.

“Girl, what the fuck?”

“I just thought it’d… feel different,” she said quietly.

“It didn’t? You told me that weenie Toland never ate you out,” Grey scoffed.

“It didn’t do it for me,” Eric said and sat up.

“Fucking too bad because you do it plenty,” Grey said, admiring her body and Eric didn’t like that. She pulled the sheet back over her breasts. Then Grey frowned and also sat up. As usual Grey was flat chested and leaned over to her. “Did you not like it?” they asked her, no longer putting on airs of being self important about their ability in bed.

Eric shrugged. “It didn’t do it any more than when I’ve been with a guy,” she said since that was why she’d let Grey talk her into sleeping with them. She’d only slept with two guys previous and hadn’t liked it. Or rather it hadn’t been something she looked forward to even if it felt good. She’d been curious if it was different or better with a woman. Grey wasn’t one but they were close enough physically. And Grey had made her feel good but… that was it.

“That didn’t exactly answer the question cutie pie,” Grey said and folded their hands on her shoulder, resting their chin on the top of their hands.

“I didn’t hate it. I just think it’s pretty overrated,” she said making a face. “I could have felt like that in half the time with my hand,” and that made Grey snicker.

“Better than Toland though, huh?” Grey smirked.

“Your ego won’t like the actual answer,” Eric said and brushed Grey’s hands off her and she got out of bed.

“What? Bullshit Toland knew how to smash,” Grey complained as Eric found her underwear on the floor and pulled it on.

“He just meant it,” Eric said putting on her bra.

Grey frowned at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re good at the mechanics but that’s about it,” Eric said looking for her shirt so she didn’t pick up Grey’s by accident.

“Because you have sooo much experience,” Grey scoffed.

Eric shot a look at Grey as she found her top. “Just because you fuck like a porn star doesn’t mean you’re good in bed, Grey,” she said and pulled on her shirt.

“Plenty of people would argue otherwise.”

“Guess you didn’t impress me,” Eric shrugged. “But thanks for letting me experiment with you. Girls don’t do it for me either,” and she found her pants.

“Well that was the point. Didn’t think you were so frigid about it,” Grey frowned as she buttoned her pants up.

“It’s just sex. I figured you’d get that,” Eric said and picked up her shoes and socks and sat on the bed again. “And I don’t really care for it.”

Grey came up behind her. “I’d say that’s too bad after you completely destroyed my ego but honestly I’m glad you figured it out with someone who can handle this sort of criticism,” and they wrapped an arm around her waist. “I know plenty of lesbians and bi girls who would throw a tantrum being told they suck in bed.”

Eric put on her socks. “You’re older than me and I’ve never heard of someone else who’s not interested in sex. Is that… a thing?” Eric asked them.

“Sure. Asexual. I was that for a while when I was a young Risen for other reasons.”

“So it’s not like… like how I’m a sub par Guardian. That’s normal?”

Grey kissed her on the cheek. “Your Light doesn’t make you sub par anything, cutie pie,” they assured her. “Your Light is normal because you’re a Guardian. And your feelings are normal because you’re a person.”

“… Right,” Eric said looking at the wall before pulling on her boots.

“You don’t have to go,” Grey said.

“I don’t want to stay,” and she got up again. She wanted to go home, take a shower, and sit and watch some silly Lightless reality show alone. Maybe she’d call up her friends Tass and Lara-May once it got light out and they’d go down to the City for breakfast. She could always count on those two to come with her for coffee and breakfast cakes.

“Buzz kill,” Grey said, laying on their back now, arms folded.

“I’m just not really a cuddler,” Eric said quietly and left.

[messers-moony]

Nothing Left | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Wife!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: Everything crashes within seconds and Sirius doesn’t know where to go. 

Everything went downhill so fucking fast. How was that even possible? Everything was perfectly fine a year ago, but it seems that within that year, everything had collapsed onto the helpless boy. It was like being beneath a crumbling concrete tower that fell with no warning. Like being slapped in the face unexpectedly. Like getting doused in freezing water on a Sunday morning. 

In retrospect, it sucked. 

Sirius Black would know first hand. His entire life had been a screw-up from the beginning. It started with his parents, who - at the start - loved him. But when he turned out to be the child they never wanted all that love had vanished. They tortured him, broke him piece by piece, they built up trauma that took years for him to express to his friends. It wasn’t until third year when they heard him crying alone in his four-poster bed and asked what was wrong. He could remember the comforting embrace James Potter had given him. 

Nevertheless, it never ended there. The summer going into his sixth year, Sirius decided it was enough after too many Cruciatus Curses and body binding curses; enough was enough. His hands were trembling after enduring just ten minutes of the torture curse, and it was a struggle, but he packed everything he could. His heart broke at inevitably leaving his little brother behind. He could only hope that Regulus would understand. 

It took a Knight Bus trip to the Potter residence in Godric’s Hollow. The sky could’ve resembled how Sirius felt. Back at Grimmauld Place Twelve, the sky was always cloudy and rainy. Godric’s Hollow allowed the sun to shine past the fluffy clouds, but tonight was different. The sky was dark and thick, black clouds covered the stars. Rain poured from them, and it pittered on the stone roads. Sirius was instantly drenched when he stepped off the Knight Bus. 

Hesitantly he made his way to the door, where he knocked softly. The house was two stories and was a relatively big family home - not bigger than Grimmauld Place - but an average family home. The house was a mixture of grey, dark purples, and brown. It reminded Sirius of Remus’ patched jumpers. Sirius could hear movement from behind the plum door, and it opened to reveal a familiar face. James Potter with his messy hair, hazel eyes, and long limbs. James was muscular, but he was also tall, not Remus tall but taller than Sirius. 

James didn’t speak and ushered him inside. The following morning at breakfast, Euphemia - Mrs. Potter - had given Sirius the excellent news of his new forever home. The Potters would never forget the way Sirius lit up and how a smile had taken over his face. Sirius didn’t remember being this happy except for when Regulus was born. 

But his forever home was not forever. 

In seventh year, James’ parents had died, and nobody had comforted Sirius except one person who attempted. James had Lily, and that was enough for him. Perhaps it was selfish to think that James should be comforting him. It was definitely selfish. Sirius was doing really good at hiding how he felt until he crumbled behind a tapestry near the dungeons. 

Sirius didn’t know if it was good or bad luck that Regulus - his prefect Slytherin brother - had found him behind that tapestry. Regulus had pulled back the fabric slowly with his wand lit. His face had softened at his older brother sobbing with his knees to his chest. Regulus allowed his wand light to extinguish before sitting in front of him in the same position, allowing their socks to touch at the tips. 

They sat there for a couple of minutes before Regulus moved closer, albeit hesitantly to sit beside Sirius. Regulus had his back against the concrete, and Sirius curled up onto him while the younger Black brother rubbed his older brother's back. Sirius cried harder and harder. It took an hour before he subdued to sniffles and whimpers, but Regulus took it as his time to speak. 

“I know they meant a lot to you,” Regulus stated, still rubbing his older brothers back, “And I don’t blame you for grieving them.”

Sirius sniffled, “I ought to be grateful for them, really.” Regulus released a sound that sounded like a chuckle, but it was so foreign to Sirius he couldn’t tell, “They kept you safe. Kept you away from mother and father. They gave you a home where you could finally be you.”

“And no matter how mad I want to be at them for taking you away from me,” Regulus admitted, “I just can’t be because they gave you everything you wanted, and I’ve never seen you happier in my life.”

Regulus didn’t stop talking, “You know… I- I found my own James Potter.”

Sirius looked up at Regulus with flushed cheeks, but his facial expression was baffled, and Regulus presented him with a small smile, “Okay, maybe she isn’t my ‘James Potter’ per se because I don’t see her as a sister but rather she’s my girlfriend.”

“What’s- What’s her name?” Sirius croaked; his throat was so raw from crying. 

“Y/n L/n.”

“A- A Gryffindor?”

Regulus made that sound again, “Yeah. A stupidly brave one too. Even worse.”

Sirius smiled, “I know her.”

“Don’t tell me she was one of your conquests.” Regulus grimaced, and Sirius chuckled, snuggling back into Regulus’ chest, “No, she wasn’t. It turns out she has the hots for the other Black brother.”

Regulus smiled, and they allowed the silence of the castle to consume them. It was dark in the corridor on the other side of the tapestry, and Regulus could see the faint moonlight peaking out. He could also imagine the stars glittering beautifully in the midnight sky. He could see the star Sirius shining brighter than ever, and he just wanted his brother to feel the same. 

“I plan to marry her.” Regulus said before he could stop the words from falling from his mouth.

“What happens then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mother and father will never approve.”

Regulus scoffed, “I’m done with their bullshit and have been for quite a while.”

Sirius met his brother's eyes again, “I left right after you. It turns out there is no more heir to the Black family name.”

The older Black brother smiled brightly and tightened his grip on his younger brother. Regulus couldn’t remember feeling this warm since they were little boys running around the backyard. Sirius was practically on top of him, and that was okay. For now, everything seemed okay again. Maybe Euphemia and Fleamont were gone, but even in their deaths, they managed to benefit Sirius’ life. 

Now it all seemed fruitless. 

Only a couple of months later, Sirius and Regulus had gotten into a huge kerfuffle. It ended with screaming, raw throats, tears, and flushed cheeks. Sirius could remember how Regulus playfully mocked his and Remus’ relationship. He didn’t know exactly what happened, just that he was pouncing for his little brother, and Remus was holding him back. Sirius had yelled some very awful things that he couldn’t take back. 

She hadn’t done anything. She didn’t even know that an argument had happened. Y/n had been reading in the common room when the book was flung out of her hand, and she was pushed against the stone wall of the Gryffindor Tower. Y/n met eyes with stormy grey ones, not unlike her lovers, but these weren’t her lovers. These were his elder brother's eyes, and he had lifted her off the floor against the wall until James had pulled Sirius off her. 

Y/n hit the floor with a thud and repeatedly coughed, hands on her throat. James had stormed into the boy's dormitory with Sirius with him. She didn’t even understand what was happening not until she met up with Regulus in the prefect dorm, and he saw the marks on her neck. Sirius had taken it too far, and Regulus was furious. They were no longer on speaking terms. 

Now Sirius had someone entirely different to grieve. 

Sirius had felt like his heart hit the floor when he was forced to move out of James’ house with Lily due to Harry being born. Remus had moved away to take care of his sick mother and asked for privacy. The funds that had previously been in Sirius’ account had been squandered, and now he was paying the price. 

He had absolutely nowhere to go. Truthfully, there was one place he could go, but he didn’t think he’d ever be accepted there. He had said unforgivable things, but James had given him enough confidence that it would be okay. Reluctantly, Sirius Black took the Knight Bus to the suburbs in London. The community felt so modern and new. It was different then Godric’s Hollow which had been around for so many years that it began to weather and erode. 

The deja vu was hitting him like a brick. Their house was a mixture of grey, black, white, and maybe blue - Sirius couldn’t tell in the darkness if it was white or pale blue. Perhaps he’d find out tomorrow if he was even welcomed inside. Sighing and shivering, Sirius knocked on the door. He could hear little squeals of delight that sounded much like a child. He also heard talking, but he froze when the door opened. 

Regulus Black, at the age of twenty-two, looked good. His hair was to his jaw, and it was wavy at the ends, whereas Sirius’ was much more straight. His eyes had turned silver over the years. His cheeks looked much fuller, and he looked a lot better. Regulus was no longer looked underweight, but he was still slim and skinny. Black family genes, Sirius supposed. Sirius couldn’t meet his brother's eyes. 

“What do you want, Sirius.” 

His name falling from Regulus’ mouth instead of a nickname hurt more than he expected, “I had nowhere else to go…”

Regulus scoffed, “James finally kick you out, eh?”

“Yeah, he did.” Sirius sounded so distant, “Perhaps it was about time, and here I am, at your doorstep.”

“Come on, Sirius.” Regulus motioned for him to come in, and Sirius did. 

The house was much cozier inside. The floors were dark wood, almost black. The living room - on Sirius’ left - was a darker turquoise color with grey furniture. The dining room - on Sirius’ right - was a light grey. The furniture was a marble table, white wood chairs with cushions, and a beautiful light fixture. Regulus led him to the kitchen, which was straight ahead in the hallway. 

It was a beautiful mint green color with black and white furniture. The appliances were primarily black and the furniture primarily white, but regardless, it was beautiful. They had another table in the kitchen that was a grey wood instead of the shiny marble in the dining room but nevertheless screamed elegance. Sirius sat at one of the barstools at the L of the counter. Regulus slid him a cup of tea. 

“Your house is beautiful.” Sirius complimented, and Regulus placed the cup back into the saucer, “Thank you. My wife picked everything out for the most part. I either built it or painted it.” Regulus smiled. 

“Your wife?”

Regulus hummed, “Y/n Black. Ring any bells?”

Sirius swallowed, “Yeah.”

They both took a sip of tea, “I have two kids too. Both boys.”

“Two?!“ Sirius nearly spat out the liquid he had just taken a sip of. 

“Twins. Fraternal, thankfully.”

He placed the cup down, “What’re their names?“

“Perseus Regulus Black and Leo Alphard Black.”

“Perseus and Leo, huh?“

Regulus blushed, “It wasn’t my idea. It was Y/n’s.”

“I like them,” Regulus looked up at him, “The names. I’m sure they fit them too.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t long until footsteps began to echo coming down the steps. Y/n had grown up too. Her face was sharper and her curves more defined. If Sirius was honest, she didn’t look like she had kids at all. To be fair, he wasn’t really staring at Y/n but more so his brother. Regulus had a starstruck expression as his wife walked towards him. He had a dopey smile on his face and stars in his eyes. Regulus really loved her, and Sirius could tell, hell, anyone could. 

Y/n stopped in her tracks at seeing Sirius, “What’s he doing here?” 

Regulus placed an arm around her waist, “He came looking for a place to stay. While I was waiting for you, I decided to catch up with him for a little.”

Sirius looked guilty, “Ultimately, I’m leaving this decision up to you.” 

Y/n sighed and looked at both brothers. She thought of what he did back at Hogwarts. She thought of how Regulus had cried and ached for his brother, wishing for their relationship to be back the way it was. She thought of her two children who always asked about their Uncle Sirius, who was never around. 

“Sirius,” Y/n began, and Sirius held his breath, “Where will you go if I were to say no?”

Sirius looked at his lap, “The streets.”

He couldn’t hear the footsteps that approached him until soft hands lifted his head where he met soft e/c eyes, “I’m willing to look past everything that happened at Hogwarts for the sake of my children. They deserve their uncle. But I need you to show me that I can trust you and that you won’t cause trouble.”

“I’ll do anything.” Sirius complied, and Regulus smirked, “Don’t say that. She’ll have you remodel something.”

“You’re an asshole.” Y/n whirled, and Regulus continued to smirk, “I told you to use magic, and you said we should do it the Muggle way.”

He shrugged, “We got good memories out of doing it the Muggle way.”

“If getting paint all over me counts as good memories, then sure.”

“It does.” Regulus smiled, “Your face was priceless.”

“Dickhead.” She muttered. 

Sirius grinned, “Well, Sirius. If Y/n lets you stay, then you’re welcome here. What I did back at Hogwarts was uncalled for, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mocked you and Remus.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” Regulus countered solemnly, “Had I not done that; then we could’ve had a better relationship. For that, I’m sorry.”

Sirius stood up and hugged Regulus tight, “New beginnings?”

“New beginnings.” Regulus smiled. 

Regulus led Sirius up the wooden stairs up to the second story. It seemed to have had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, one in the master bedroom, one in the hallway, not including the one downstairs. On the end of the left side was a door leading to the master bedroom. On the right end was a cabinet and two doors across from one another. Then in the middle of the back was a door leading to another bedroom which Regulus had opened. 

The bedroom was spotless and beautiful. It was painted a grey with purple undertone with a queen-sized bed. Most of the furniture was white, and the bedding was black. Sirius had brought his trunk to its normal size and placed it at the end of the bed. Regulus smiled as Sirius looked around. 

“This is yours for as long as you want it.” Regulus stated softly snd Sirius had tears in his eyes, “Thank you.”

Sirius hugged his brother again, “I really mean it, thank you.”

“I love you, Sirius.” Regulus confessed, “You’ll always be my brother. The one who held me during thunderstorms. The one who sewed up my teddy bear when it had gotten ripped. The one who took the blame so I wouldn’t get punished.”

Sirius was gripping the back of his shirt tightly, “That stuff doesn’t just go away.”

They parted, and Regulus smiled, “Get some sleep. I’m sure you’d like to see the boys tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like to meet my nephews.” Sirius admitted smiling brightly. 

“Get some sleep, Siri.” 

“You too, Reggie.”

[kyovtani]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)

— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader

— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN

— word count: 9.6k

— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-

— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)

[ part one ]

— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)

"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.

“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.

"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.

"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.

“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.

At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.

After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.

However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.

"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.

The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.

Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.

However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.

Kyoutani Kentarou.

You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.

"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"

"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.

"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.

"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.

You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.

After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.

The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.

It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.

"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.

His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.

"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."

"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.

Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.

After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.

Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.

He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.

After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).

You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.

You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.

At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.

However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.

He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.

"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.

"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.

And then realization hits you.

"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.

Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.

And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.

"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.

“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.

"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”

Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.

"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.

“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.

"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.

"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.

"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.

"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."

Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.

A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.

It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.

The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.

You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.

"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.

Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.

"But you're not good for me."

You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.

The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.

You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.

Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.

Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.

You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.

"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.

And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.

"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.

“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.

"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”

Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.

Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.

There you are, yet again.

Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.

The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.

Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.

Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.

You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.

And then it hits you.

The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.

Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.

And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.

"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.

You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.

"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.

"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”

You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.

After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.

Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.

"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.

"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.

But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.

"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”

Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.

You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.

"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.

"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.

"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.

“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.

"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”

And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.

"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.

“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"

You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."

And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.

"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.

You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.

And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.

"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.

You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.

With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.

Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.

But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.

"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.

He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.

After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.

You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.

And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.

"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.

"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.

“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.

"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.

Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.

"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.

“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.

"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.

"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.

"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."

"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"

His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.

You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.

However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.

Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.

"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.

"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.

"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.

Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.

You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.

“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.

"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.

Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.

Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.

"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.

You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.

The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.

It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.

And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.

"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.

Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.

You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.

Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.

And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.

Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.

"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.

It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.

You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.

But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.

Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.

Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.

He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.

"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.

“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.

Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.

But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.

"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.

"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.

“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.

Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.

"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.

"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.

"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.

"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.

“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.

"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.

“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.

“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.

You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.

And then he finally starts moving.

A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.

“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”

You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.

His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.

“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.

“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.

You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.

“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.

“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”

A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.

And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.

“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.

“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”

“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.

He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.

You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.

“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.

And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”

You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.

The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.

You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.

"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”

You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.

And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.

Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.

"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.

Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."

You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.

"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.

His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.

Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.

"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.

Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.

"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.

Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.

"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.

This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.

"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.

Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.

And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.

And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.

[ banner source ]

[lovenona]

contains: explicit smut, low-key dubcon? kind of, toxic behavior, infidelity, implied age difference (college student reader vs. dilf toji), ddlg dynamics, dacryphilia, exhibitionism, kinda angsty, fem reader, literally this is just absolute filth so continue with discretion 

he caught you when you were young and vulnerable, and he never let go. 

but you’ll let him sink his claws in, a thousand times over, if it means you can continue to smell the blend of his cigarette smoke and the cologne his ex-wife bought him and the whisky still lingering on his dark clothes: a blend that is so classically fushiguro toji that it hurts. 

you let toji do whatever he wants with you; you’re a young college student, you’re lonely, and you think he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe. electricity crackles down your spine when you see his dark eyes glimmer in the blue-light of phone screens and LED lights and street lamps and car headlights. they’re dark and menacing eyes, not unlike a rattlesnake looking for the kill. it’s a gaze that should threaten you; it’s a gaze that sees you like prey.

it’s a gaze that forces you to press your thighs together on instinct. toji knows it, you know it – you both know that all he has to do is look at you with a certain feigned softness to make you lift your skirt and take off your clothes for him.

(some might call you easy. you call it love.) 

you met toji in the back of a dirty bar the night you told your boyfriend you loved him and he told you he’d been hooking up with your roommate for the past six weeks. toji, with his disheveled hair, his chesire grin, the fitted black t-shirt that told you everything he had to offer. you wanted him, badly. you wanted his love. you wanted the protection he looked like he could give.

he took you home with a sly grin, fucked you hard and merciless in his one-bedroom apartment next to the subway tracks, where, if you hadn’t been fucked unconscious, you might have heard the rumble of a train blow through every eight minutes. toji, who made you call him daddy before he would finger you, fell asleep within minutes and left you to find the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

but you love toji because you think he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe, especially when you’re spread underneath him and his hand is playing games between your butterflied legs. he tells you you’re so fucking hot, princess when you’re creaming around his cock, when you’ve come so many times you can’t remember where you are or what your name is.

toji looks particularly pleased when you cry; he loves it when you tell him it hurts and still pull him closer anyway. he gets off on your tears, on the way daddy slips past your lips in a tangled whimper and you no longer know what’s good for you. 

(he thrives on the way you sob when he ruins your orgasms, too. he loves it when you clench around nothing, when you pathetically whine because you crave him and he won’t give it to you.)

toji will take you in whatever position and whatever location he feels like. he likes you because you let him, being the good girl you are. toji’s hobby is ruining you, fucking you and forcing you to show your fucked-out face and shaky knees in public, fucking you in public and humiliating you for falling apart under his touch while someone’s watching you, naughty girl.

fucking you in his car with the windows rolled down is his personal favorite; he gets off on the sight of your ass in the air, face buried in the leather backseat of his ex-wife’s old car. he likes how you scream so loud anyone with ears could hear you. he likes when you squirt all over him and ruin the seats. he likes it when people see you struggle to give him head. he loves when they stand still and watch. 

(he particularly loves it when he fucks you from behind and he puts his fingers in your mouth. you always clench like a vice.) 

your pussy is an addiction, toji says when he’s zipping his jeans back up and watching you wipe away the mascara running down your cheeks. you think he means it with love – you know he means it with love, he must. 

sometimes toji even tells you about himself when he lights a cigarette afterwards, and that’s how you know what you have is true. he’ll tell you about his bitch of an ex-wife who he’s currently preparing to file a divorce with. he’ll tell you abut his two-year-old son, who his bitch of an ex-wife won’t let him see because she thinks he’s a bad influence. he’ll tell you about the people he hates at work, about the heavy lifting he does at the gym – he always lets you feel his biceps, then. 

but you, you fill in the gaps yourself, you’re sexy, young, fun. you’re better than the ex-wife. you’re everything toji needs. 

you love toji because you think he cares about you; he tells you how college boys are foolish and childish and lame; he tells you how you need a real man to take care of a tight pussy like yours; he tells you how you’re just an ignorant girl who needs someone to guide her.

(and he’s right, you think. he’s always looking out for you.) 

you, you always tell him, then, blissed-out and drunk on his attention. you, daddy. you take care of me. he always eats you out when you say that.

you love him, you do. and so when you see him with his bitch of an ex-wife and his son at the grocery store, you make yourself invisible, because you know that toji doesn’t like when you show up uninvited. you tell yourself that he has to do it, that he needs to take care of his son, that just because he’s in love with you doesn’t mean he can suddenly leave his first family behind.

and when toji tells you after you suck him off and swallow that he’s moving back in with his ex-wife because he “can’t afford the rent at my apartment anymore,” when he stops talking about getting the divorce, you keep the stars in your eyes and the slick on your pussy because he promises that he’ll fuck your brains out in his master bedroom when his son is asleep. 

(and toji does: in six different position, four different orgasms, and your daddy was even kind enough to rail you as you were bent over the kitchen counter in his bitch of a wife’s newly remodeled kitchen. you came so hard and so violently that your screams woke up daddy’s two-year-old son.) 

toji owns your body, and you let him. maybe he’s bad for you, maybe he’s cheating on his wife and slowly ruining your life in the process, but when he’s kissing your cervix, you don’t have it in you to care. 

because you’re my daddy, you tell him, crying. i need you.

that’s right, he’ll say. what would you do without me, little girl? because when toji sinks his claws into a pussy this sweet and young and vulnerable, he never lets go. 

[1kook]

wrong place, right time

— a someway, somehow jjk x reader drabble summary “Marry me,” Jungkook says one night warning smut is mentioned in passing (jk getting tied up, gagged, crying lol, also him fingering oc), da ex girlfriend Sojin is mentioned 😨, oc is a LIL scared..... she gets over it lol rating m (18+) wc 1k

note (!) alas.... our last swsh drabble to fulfill the arc I accidentally began for them <3 rip in peaces u will be missed mrs. ‘swish’

His timing is absolutely terrible.

At first, you had wanted to believe Jungkook was the normal one, that it was you who moved according to strict imaginary schedules. Wake up at exactly 6:14am every morning, grab your keys by 6:43. Precise, exact. Jungkook and everyone else moved according to more lax rules. The auto shop opens at 9am, sometimes 9:10 if traffic is bad; it closes at 11pm or whenever the last client leaves. Compared to Jungkook, you were just too picky about timing, too strict. 

For a long time, that seemed to be accurate. 

“Marry me,” Jungkook says one night, rolled beneath an old Dodge pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days. You’re sitting off to the side, fingers flying across your phone’s keyboard as you type up an angry email. It’s muffled, the sound of his voice absorbed by the junk of metal above him. You pretend you don’t hear it. A few minutes later, he rolls out from underneath, has got a dark streak of something painted across his perfect forehead. He taps the pointed toe of your heel with a wrench. “Marry me,” he repeats. 

You balk. “You’re asking me now?” you clarify just in case, phone slowly coming to rest against your thighs. He tilts his head to the side, shrugs like he sees nothing weird about the situation. There’s no other word to explain the emotion that blooms in your chest other than completely dumbfounded. “Like… right now?” 

Jungkook’s not even looking at you anymore, too busy shuffling through his toolbox for that one weird shaped tool you see him use often. “Do you want me to ask another time?” he suggests casually. When he looks back up, he’s got this slightly confused look on his face, as if you’re the odd one. And because the moment is just so… weird you find yourself nodding along. 

And that’s that. You move on, pretend like Jungkook’s weirdly placed proposal didn’t happen, let it settle in the very back of your mind. Not like it’s hard, anyway. Your schedule is packed, clouded with meetings and deadlines, all your new roles as the department manager, and you barely have time to think about it. 

He tries again about a month later. 

“Marry me,” he gasps after a wild night beneath the sheets. There’s tender marks lining his rib cage, over his arms, around his throat. His face is still flushed, and there’s drying cum against his tummy. He might’ve cried tonight from overstimulation, but you can’t quite remember. That’s how he asks you the second time. 

For some reason, you laugh the second time. “What?” you chuckle, and maybe it was one of those protective measures, laughing in a tense situation because you don’t know what else to say. Your mind is still stuck somewhere between the gags and the cuffs and the tears and the way his skin had bruised beneath your touch. 

Jungkook rolls out his wrist— it’s red, so fucking red —and then promptly reaches for your hand. The pad of his thumb is rough from years of working, swipes across your knuckles lovingly. “Marry me,” he says, but you can’t tell if the blush on his cheeks is from his bashfulness or from the fact you had choked him a few minutes prior. “I want to marry you.”

Your brain stalls, mouth opening and closing. Jungkook doesn’t seem too bothered. He kisses your knuckles, asks you to get the salve from his drawer instead. He doesn’t mention it again that night, just lets you rub his back and goes to sleep. 

The next time comes sooner, about a week later. 

His mom mentions it one night, the three of you squeezed into the tiny kitchen of his family home as his dad snores in the other room. “Sojin is getting married,” she says, and the air is sucked out of the room. At least, it is for you. 

You try to play it off, straining your eyes to catch a glimpse of him in your peripheral. “Really,” Jungkook says, half a turkey sandwich in his mouth. He’s still in his jumpsuit from work, has it knotted around his waist in that way that makes him look extra beefy, extra sexy. “That’s crazy.”

His mom hums, and their genuine lack of emotion towards the news makes you feel like you’re the crazy one once again. “She sent an invitation.” 

She leaves the kitchen soon after, leaves you quietly stirring the sugar into your coffee as Jungkook gobbles down his sandwich. A loud gulp, the loud smack of his lips. “We should get married,” he says, and you jolt, spoon clattering loudly against the inside of your mug. 

Your brain doesn’t struggle for a response this time. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily have you giving him a good response either. “Like Sojin,” you reply, and feel weird about it immediately. Icky. Gross. Bitter. 

Apparently, Jungkook gets it. “Or we can get married in ten years,” he suggests instead, skips over your little blunder like he never heard it at all. “Or fifty.”

You appreciate it. “When I’m saggy,” you mumble, eyes hyper-focused on the mini whirlpool inside your coffee mug. 

He hums, bumps his hip against yours. “My cute, senior citizen girlfriend. We can drive one of those retro cars around town.”

The worst one yet is on the side of the road, your car battery giving out on the highway that connects the city to your hometown. Jungkook picks you up, pulls up behind you and has the audacity to catcall you as he walks up. “Hey, beautiful,” he flirts after you punch his stupidly strong bicep, grins this cheesy thing at you as he gets to work. 

In the end, your car can’t be revived with the limited tools he brought along. You settle on waiting inside his truck, snuggled beneath his jacket as you wait for the tow truck. He gets the bright idea to fondle you beneath the coat, the dying sunset painting his charming face in a romantic glow that has you seeing stars and galaxies and nebulae when you come. “Marry me,” he husks out, mouth slotted against yours. 

It’s the last time he asks; it’s the first time you say yes.

[mirukupuddin]

A Full Physical with Fushiguro Megumi

Hey y’all, as expected this is my contribution to the Jujutsu Hub collab event with @suna-reversed ​! I had so much fun writing for Megumi and hope I can do some more JJK stuff in the future kekek please go and check out the amazing works and give them lots of love! 

Warning! this content includes sexual intercourse and violence, please do not read if you are a minor. All persons portrayed in this fic are 18+.

Warning(s): Injuries, Blood mention, Violence, Nudity, Oral sex (female receiving), Unprotected sex, aphrodisiac use, Dub-con, medical terms that are defo not correct lmao

“Fushiguro!” Kugisaki yelled out to the raven-haired man as the curse came bounding towards him at an immeasurable speed. It sunk its fangs into his arm, before dropping to the floor as Nobara nailed into the straw doll. Megumi groaned collapsing to the floor gripping onto his arm. The pain was subsiding within moments, but something pulsated within him, it felt  his skin was on fire.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the estate, maybe Doctor Ieiri can patch you up” Nobara swung her arm under Megumi’s to support him. He grunted in response, feeling the eerie sensation pass around his body.

Meanwhile at the clinic you work struck, looking incredulously at your mentor, “Eh? You really want me to take over the clinic for today? Is that really alright?”

“Goodness me, you should have some more faith in yourself, (Y/n)-chan, you did qualify after all” Shoko chuckled. “Besides, it’s looking like a pretty quiet day, isn’t it? I’m sure you will be fine. In any case, you have my number if you need further assistance” And with that, your rather exhausted mentor exited the clinic, bags in tow.

You let out a sigh looking towards the clock, it was coming up to 6pm, so there were only  3 more hours before the night team take over. You pulled out your phone, flicking past the home screen of Megumi and his dogs. These long shifts really did make you yearn a lot more for time with him. Little did you know that time was mere moments away.

The doors of the clinic slam open unceremoniously as Nobara dragged Megumi in. You ran into the front room, eyes widening at the sight of your boyfriend with his arm slung around Nobara.  

“Oh, hey (Y/n)!” Nobara grinned, shifting Megumi’s  weight so that she could grab your hand, cutely. “Fushiguro and I were a little careless and ran into some trouble with the curse down by the docks.”

Megumi refused to make eye contact with you, a light blush dusting over his pale cheeks. You smiled, kindly grabbing onto his other side and letting Nobara ease up on her hold. The three of you stumbled into the examination room, Megumi eventually finding purchase on the bed. You looked towards Nobara “I think I’ve got it from here, I’ll keep you updated with everything. Thank you for bringing this dummy back safely.” You smiled at her kindly, a smile she returned before nodding at both of you and taking her leave.

The lull of florescent lights hummed and was the only thing heard in the room. You smiled, grabbing a sterile tray, emptying some dressing pads and some saline to clean the superficial wounds that were at the top of his arm. His uniform was covering nearly all of it despite being in tatters at the wound sight.

“Take your shirt off” you continued your ministrations, gathering sample containers to make sure whatever had attacked him hadn’t poisoned him.

“Huh?” The man in questioned looked at you as if you had pulled him out of a dreamlike state, causing you to chuckle.

“I need you to take your shirt off so I can see your wounds, Fushiguro-san” You prepped the needle to perform a blood test. You ran your hands up his non-afflicted arm, goosebumps rising to the skin as you wiped the area with an antiseptic wipe.

“Fushiguro-san?” He repeated, the name sounding foreign on his ears. He winced feeling the needle penetrate his skin but it wasn’t enough to quell the faint rumbling in his chest.

“I’m at work Megumi, so it’s strictly professional.” You grinned at him before going to grab sterile pads to dress his arm. Megumi’s eyes followed your movements, dark orbs landing on the dip of your back as you bent over to retrieve the tools. Your dress rode up exposing the tops of your thighs. A growl emitted from Megumi’s chest as his cardex of lewd memories of you flash in his mind. He tried to shake the thoughts away but even shutting his eyes made him envision you bent over, with your uniform so askew and-

“Megumi? Did you hear what I said”

“Shit” Megumi thought “ Urm, no I didn’t catch that?”

“I asked you how you were feeling”

“Warm” he fidgeted in his position on the bed  “Just warm”

You walked up to the man sat on the bed, placing a hand on his forehead. He averted his eyes away from your concentrated ones. Eyes linger on the way your lips parted in concentration, he could hear his heartbeat thrumming in his ears and his face blossoming a blush. As if by themselves, his hands stopped fiddling with the bottom sheet of the bed, opting to grab you by the hips. You looked at him incredulously, as he pulled you to slot against his body, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

“M-megumi, what are you doing” You flushed, pushing against his chest.

“I’m sorry doctor, this curse has made me do such impure things and think such lewd thoughts about you” He grumbled into your neck, starting to caress your jugular with pecks. You could feel his rapidly hardening cock against your stomach, letting out a whine in protest.

His breath was coming out in laboured puffs against the crook of your neck “I can’t wait, I need to feel you, (Y/n)” he growled rutting his hips into yours.

“N-not here, what if someone comes in…” You moaned trying to resist the urge to give in. All those rational thoughts being submerged with the feeling of Megumi kissing and marking up the column of you neck. “Fuck” you sighed in resignation.

That was all Megumi needed to grab you by the hips and slam your body onto the examination bed. Your gasp allowed him to push his tongue roughly into your mouth tangling it with your own in a deep, passionate kiss. “I missed you so much” He growled pulling your hips to rut against his hard cock. His lips campaigning on bruising your neck and clavicle as his fingers reached to pull at your uniform, the buttons straining against the force of Megumi’s tugging. You grabbed his hands to stop him from ripping apart your dress, opting to take it off yourself, leaving you in just your underwear.

Megumi’s already lust filled eyes darkened at your exposed body, if he wasn’t already fixated on destroying you there was nothing stopping him now. You took off your bra exposing your breasts to him, nipples pebbling at the cold air. You ran your hands through his silky locks, his face planted in between your breasts licking and suckling at the skin and yet again marking your untarnished skin.

He bought his face up to yours kissing you deeply and grabbing at your thighs to wrap around his waist. His onyx eyes looked at yours clouded over with pure lust, an unfamiliar expression you’d never seen in the man.

“I love you so much (y/n), God, you’re going to be the end of me” He groaned into your neck making you giggle.  His hips were bucking into yours uncontrollable, as if it were acting on its own accord.

“What has gotten into you, baby?” You chuckle running your fingers down the muscular expanse of his back. He had always been built more on the leaner side but since his 20s he had grown a lot, in all the right places. Your eyes darted back to the bite that had previously been situated in the area between his shoulder and elbow, it seemingly disappeared leaving an angry red mark. The only time you had seen this was a reaction to a very potent aphrodisiac by a curse. The only cure being…release.

Your mind was ripped from your daydream as Megumi was tracing his lips along your thighs, before licking over your underwear.

“What are you thinking, Doctor (Y/n)?” Megumi hummed.

“Well- I hypothesised something…hmm.. the only treatment I can recommend is pretty lewd I don’t know if you can handle it” You remarked, pushing up onto her elbows eyeing up the man in front of you.

“Oh, is that so? What might that be then?” He smirked back playfully

“All you have to do, is cum” You rubbed your knee in between Megumi’s legs making him jolt.

“Well then-“ he huffed out, breathlessly “I better get to it then”

His tongue lolled out and he groaned tasting your essence on his tongue through your underwear. He yanked them off, tossing them with all the other discarded clothes before pulling your thighs over his shoulders and plunging his tongue into your core. You bit the back of your hand as to stop you from squealing in pleasure. Megumi moaned as he swirled his tongue around your clit, vibrating against it. You had your fingers threaded through his charcoal locks, as he licked and kissed at your pussy.

“Megumi~” You rutted your hips against his face chasing your high, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles at your hips. He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking and licking at it with gusto; he looked up through thick lashes, eyes pitch black and hazed with arousal. He pushed his finger inside you experimentally, nudging around to find the spot that makes you see stars. His tongue already lapping at your core was enough to send shivers and jolts down your spine. You moaned out his name like a prayer as he rubbed and massaged at your sweet spot. Your pussy was pulsing around his long digits, feeling like your peak was approaching with a vengeance. You threaded your fingers through his silken tresses your thighs trembling around his head. Megumi had decided he would die happy like this. Besides the point, he continued fucking you with his fingers through your climax as your gripped onto whatever purchase you were able to find. You whined as Megumi’s smooth tongue continued running over your clit, feeling overstimulated, but he didn’t seem like he was going to stop.

 “Baby,” you hummed, making him perk up, leaning his head on your thigh as he licked you one last time. He crawled up your body, planting his lips against you and rubbing his clothed cock against your core. Your hands trailed down his torso, smoothing over his abs making him shiver and groan in delight. You undid his trousers letting him kick them off, before delving your hand into his boxers. Megumi bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood as you palmed him. Precum was oozing out of his cock unabashedly as he whined and rutted into your hand.

“Does that feel good, Gumi~” you giggled seeing how dishevelled your poor boyfriend looked. It felt borderline sadistic seeing him gyrate into your hand so shamelessly, his eyebrows knitted in frustration.

“(Y/n), please” He grovelled burying his face in the crook of your neck, “let me fuck you, I can’t hold on anymore”

You nodded and let out a gasp as Megumi’s grasp on your hips tightened. He cock was red, leaking and throbbing as he lined it up with your slick cunt. You both heaved out a sigh as he sunk into you. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his forearms quivering and fingertips dancing along the dips of your body.

“Let go, baby, it’s okay~” Your words like treacle against Megumi’s ears. “I want you to fuck me”

 Before long, his cock was ploughing into you, the lewd noises of skin on skin echoing in the humid room. You were gripping onto his shoulders, crescent shapes etching into his flushed pale skin.

“Fuck, you’re so good, your pussy feels too good” he huffed into your ear, he was so painfully hard and your warm insides were making him feel things he couldn’t imagine. Your knuckles were paling as you clawed into his shoulders. You wrapped your legs around his slender waist pulling him into you as he rocked his hips deeper into yours. He licked up the column of your neck where he had previously marked. He bought his hands up to your face, tracing your lips with his thumb.

You leaned up to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, fingers tangling into his dark mess of hair. He grunted as your pussy tightened around him. The veins along the underside of his cock were so sensitive, they were grazing your insides so blissfully. You felt him pulsing inside you making you call out his name.

“I’m so close, baby” He growled

You smoothed a hand over his back before finding purchase on his shoulders again “me too,”

“Can I cum inside you please, oh god, (y/n)” He whined, holding back from drooling all over your steaming body. You nodded and he let out a borderline pornographic groan, spilling his seed and painting your insides. He continued fucking you through his orgasm, whining at how overstimulated and sensitive his cock was but wanting to feel your cunt gush around him.

“Ah- Meg-Megumi I can’t- I’m going to cum” You moaned wantonly, feeling his thrusts become sloppier and erratic. He was huffing into the juncture of your neck and shoulder set on making you feel the pleasure and high he was riding. He pulled your legs over his shoulders groaning at the change of angle but railing you deeper; You had to bite into the back of your hand to withhold the screams daring to slip out as your body shook in pleasure. The tight knot that had situated in your stomach unravelled as your orgasm rushed over your body in a thick fog. Megumi was practically salivating at the way your pussy was clenching and pulsing around his cock, his eyes shutting tightly being lost in the pleasure.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck

“You wanna do it again?” He grumbled out; his cock somehow seemingly hard.

God, this was only the beginning of the night and it was almost certain you’d be walking funny the following morning.

[brandyllyn]

Make dreams truths

Dark Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader

Summary: Ezra had been a killer. Was known to be a rogue. Occasionally even a degenerate... Words: 4300. [Read it on AO3]

My Masterlist

Rating: Explicit Warnings: somnophilia. dubcon / noncon. smut. hella smut. oral (f&m). PiV. fingering. cumplay. knife. dead dove: do not eat.

A/N: I think this is actually not entirely out of character for what we know of pre-movie Ezra but it’s definitely not a good side of him. Heed the warnings.

The tent was quiet but Ezra was wide awake, hands stacked behind his head while he stared at the canvas roof. A scant few inches away you slept, the soft sounds of your breathing filling the tent and air around him. Close enough that he could reach out and touch you.

It hadn’t been intentional, this sharing of living quarters. When this rotation had started you had your own tent, as did the remainder of the team, each in their own little abodes of solitude ringing a common area. But a storm had put an end to that, taking with it a third of the structures. And so here you were, in a pile of blankets tucked between his cot and the tent wall.

There had been other options, of course. Other men who had jumped at the chance, hungry eyes roving over you when their offers had been made. Ezra’s hands clenched into fists and he took a deep calming breath as he remembered. Of six men, four had been able to offer you a place to lay your pillow - and he’d been pleasantly surprised when you took his. He hadn’t missed the assessing looks from the others each night when he held the tent flap back for you, the way their greed and jealousy tainted the toxic air of the planet even further.

You were a dove among snakes, and well you knew it. Your delicate fingers useful in the harvesting well beyond even his own clumsy attempts. The mining itself required muscle, heft and weight and work to find the dig sites. But the extraction, the small movements and fragile tenderness to obtain the gems…

That called for a woman’s tender touch.

You were safe - as safe as anyone could be on the Green. Safe with these men who circled you like writhing asps, waiting for you to fall into their embrace. Their greed outweighed their lust for the moment, and every sure touch of your hands on a gem was another thousand credits for each of them. But it didn’t follow that just because you were useful that it didn’t mean they didn’t want you, or that they might not turn their fangs on you given half the chance….

You had not, as yet, given them the chance. But with your tent gone you had needed to venture into a snake’s den. To curl up with a serpent of your choosing.

And you had chosen him.

He had thought, nay hoped, that you might join him in his bunk that first night. He thought he had been clear that you were welcome, turning back the corner of the scratchy blankets and letting it sit invitingly while he used a bathing wipe to remove the day’s grime. But when he’d turned around you were on the floor, tucking your legs beneath your own blanket and thanking him again for his hospitality.

The bunk was small, admittedly, and your pallet did look quite spacious - if not actually more comfortable. But as the spins drug on you had not invited him to your bed either.

You made a soft sound, the blankets rustling when you reseated yourself. Sleep had never come easy to him and tonight was no different. His mind raced to and fro, picking up scattered thoughts and discarding them just as easily. It had always been like that for him, focus attained through necessity rather than desire.

Desire, that was not a word for lonely nights like this. Not with your soft body within his reach. He knew it better than anyone on this blasted moon. Knew the curves and lines, the dips and valleys. No one but him got to see you outside of your suit, see the sweep of your back or the length of your leg when you scrubbed yourself off in the evening. Even the light hairs dusting your arms had been a revelation, soft beneath his fingers one night when he had laid his bare hand on you to gain your attention.

Skin, even the frailest touch, was a rarity on the Green. And so much of it was within his reach.

If he held his hand out, a little to the side, he’d be able to feel the heat rising from your body. You were practically in bed with him, just a foot lower than his own perch. It was easy to close his mind and imagine, to drown himself in what it would be like to have you truly with him. Your skin and his…

You hid your assets from the others, a cap covering your hair during meals, careful application of some dark makeup to make you look haggard and wane. Not that it mattered that much, a woman’s body was all that was required to strike a man’s lust in the reaches. But Ezra knew what you looked like without it. Knew the arch of your cheek and the fullness of your lips. Knew exactly how attractive you would be even compared with the finest women in the galaxy.

All of that beauty, a fingertip away.

He could feel himself getting hard and sighed, reaching down and roughly palming his cock. Was it worth it? He had nothing nearby to gather his emissions and the thought of trying to sleep in sticky wet briefs was as unappealing as the idea of getting up to fetch something.

You moved again and his mind wandered. He could come in you. That would solve his dilemma. In your mouth or cunt… or hell, this was his own dark reverie, he could come in that pretty ass of yours. On your knees, your back tilted just right while he fucked himself inside you. Would you let him? The you that lived in the recesses of his mind would. She let him do any number of degenerate things to her body, things he had only before paid people do. But you, the you the flounced nude through his imaginings, begged him for those same actions.

He groaned, annoyed with himself. He was hard now, his aching cock a reminder of the lasciviousness of his thoughts. He resigned himself to the rough scratch of the blanket as a vessel when he heard a sound from you. Something he’d never heard before.

A moan.

It was soft, deep. Curling through the tent and settling into the space behind his jaw. He froze, fingers just barely edging under the band of his briefs, his own heartbeat nearly drowning out his thoughts. Waited to see if you might do it again - provide an aural accompaniment to his depraved actions of the evening.

The next noise was a needy whimper.

He captured it, reeling it onto the spool of his fantasies and allowing it to settle in its own alcove of his mind. It was the noise you would make while he flicked at your clit. The sound of you while he sucked on your pert nipples. The shattered note that would break from you just before you begged him to fuck you.

His fingers were wrapped around his cock now, squeezing slightly and tugging himself in short strokes. He remained silent, ears straining. While his actions might be a distant second to his desires, it was more than he was expecting when he turned the lights off this evening.

"Ezra…"

Pleasure shot through him and he squeezed the base of his cock hard, stopping himself from coming right then. He hadn’t imagined it. He hadn’t. Even his own addled consciousness couldn’t have imagined that breathy plea. Whatever somnolent world you found yourself in, he was the star. Just as you were the luminary of his own. He turned to his side, careful to be quiet, careful not to break you free from the shackles of sleep that held you.

You were right there. One arm thrown over your head, blankets pushed to your waist, the other hand resting on your stomach. He watched you in the dim filtered light, watched the slight movement as your thighs rubbed together and you moaned again.

The little dove was dreaming of him - and a fine dream it seemed to be.

He turned all the way to his stomach, pulling one arm beneath him and resting his chin on his fist, the other reaching down to hover over your body. Did he dare? Did he dare defile you with his touch? You took the decision away, you back arching on the next breathy gasp and his fingers brushed over your hardened nipples.

Your groans wove together, a symphony of need and desire. His hand followed you down, circling through your tank top, flicking gently back and forth and then softly rolling the puckered flesh between his fingers. He should wake you, break you from your dream and offer you the reality of his body.

But he didn’t.

Laying next to you, above you, he watched his fingers trace upwards until they meet soft bare flesh. Running the tips of them under the edge of your top. Your lips parted, face turning towards him, and he wondered if you were really awake. Offering yourself to his hands and his touch. He trailed his fingers up, over the tendons of your throat, caressing your jaw, and finally stopping to rest them on the plush curve of your lips. He tugged and your mouth opened slightly, enough for him to slip his forefinger inside, feel the hot, wet warmth of you encase him. Venturing further, he touched your tongue and his vision went blurry when your lips closed around the digit and you sucked briefly on it.

His own breathing sounded harsh to his ears, unbearably loud in the near silence of the tent. His finger fell from your mouth and he cupped your chin lightly, tilting your face towards his and whispering your name - searching for any sign of wakefulness. But you continued to sleep, not so much as a flutter of your eyelashes in response.

He removed his touch from you gently, carefully. Now that he had committed to his course of action he was loath to see it come to an untimely end. He shifted in his bunk, sliding downwards slightly, adjusting himself so he could roll his cock into the hard bar at the edge. It wasn’t optimal, it wasn’t you, but it would do for the moment.

Your chosen serpent, uncoiling. Watching. Hunting.

Ezra studied your body with an almost dispassionate gaze. To an outside observer he could be considering an aurelac dig, or a piece of machinery. But his eyes were bright, his breath coming in unsteady shudders. You were a puzzle at the moment, one he needed to twist and pry at to find his way towards completion.

He wanted to see your breasts, but tugging at your top was likely to wake you. Your blankets were draped over your waist - easy to move - but the influx of cool air might stir you from your slumber. The other things he wanted… well those would definitely rouse you.

In the end, you made his decision for him, turning away with a soft mumble. Your back to him and kicking your feet out. Now the soft swell of your ass was exposed to the cool night air, the plain white cotton of your underwear visible to where it disappeared between your thighs. His lips parted as he reached out, cupping you gently in his palm, feeling the warmth even through the cloth covering you.

It was easy from there to let his fingers dip further, to burrow into the cleft and drag downwards until he was nudging at the soft flesh of your thighs. He stroked softly, repeatedly, small little pets over your cunt - resisting the urge to twist the fabric away and plunge his fingers inside of you. You would be wet, he could already feel the slight dampness soaking through your underwear. Whatever you were dreaming about - and Kevva he hoped it was still him - it was making your body weep with want.

He caressed your thigh, urging you to move, to change positions again, and he held his breath when you did so. Rolling towards him and fully on to your back with one leg bent, knee resting in line with your hip, blankets abandoned. Fuck he couldn’t stop himself, slipping from the bunk and carefully placing one knee between your spread legs, the other on the outside of your thigh. He felt guilt, for a moment, when he pulled his pocket knife from the belt hanging off the edge of the bed. When he carefully slipped it beneath the fabric of your underwear and sliced through it with minimal effort. He knew for a fact you had limited pairs with you.

But now he could touch you directly, feel your slick on the tips of his fingers as he played with your cunt and any regrets he might have had quickly vanished. He leaned forward onto his free hand, settling it next to your head, careful to keep his body from touching yours. You writhed in your sleep, a breathy moan falling from your lips, and then what he wanted to hear.

"Ezra…"

He couldn’t have kept himself from you for all the stars in the sky. Gently, smoothly, he slid his middle finger inside of you. Felt your heat and slick surround him. Felt your body squeeze him and pull him in deeper. Fuck you felt good, so tight on the relatively small girth of his finger. He could already imagine how you would feel on his cock. How you would have to stretch to accommodate him.

His jaw worked while he watched you, watched your brow furrow and your lips part as he worked you open. Carefully, oh so carefully, he lowered his mouth until it hovered just over yours. Held his breath and tasted the pants of air that fell from you. His body strained with the effort, every muscle urging him to press down, press you down into the blankets, let his body cover yours.

But he restrained. He wasn’t ready for you to be awake yet. There was still a chance you might tell him no.

Instead he regretfully pulled his fingers from your warmth, smiling to himself when your hips rolled upwards to chase them. The disappointed mumble that fell from your lips. "Shh," he whispered to himself, shifting his weight down your body, "soon little dove. Just let me…"

It was difficult, you were not settled in a way to make room for his body and he didn’t want to risk transposing you into something more convenient. Instead he laid his body next to yours, propping one hand between your spread legs and arching himself over your thighs.

You tasted sweet.

Maybe it had been too long since he had the taste of another on his tongue. Maybe it was the clandestine nature of the evening. Maybe it was just actually you… whatever it was he drew his tongue through your folds and couldn’t help the low moan that vibrated from him.

His eyes never left you as he licked at your center, staring over the rise of your stomach, your breasts, watching your face. This wasn’t about pleasure, not really. If he was going to bring you to pleasure this way it would wake you for sure. No, this was about learning your body. About having the taste and feel and smell of you filling his senses.

This was about seeing how delicately he could balance you on a razor’s edge before he was inevitably wounded by the task.

He learned every dip, every crevasse. Pressed the tip of his tongue to your aching hole and felt your hips arch beneath him. Swirled it around your clit for a moment and heard your soft whimper. Rubbed his lips along yours in the most secret of kisses, conscious of how the stubble dotting his jaw rasped against your skin.

It wasn’t enough.

It had been several minutes since you last called out his name. Several minutes of your breathy whimpers but not the dulcet tenor of your tongue wrapping around the syllables that hung his identity on him like a chain.

He ached for it.

Slowly, he drug himself away from your heat. With one hand he reached over his shoulder, fisting the fabric and pulling, tossing his shirt to the side once he was free of it. His pants followed quickly and he knelt next to you, hand seeking the knife he had tossed to the side earlier. With two fingers he carefully lifted the hem of your shirt, sliding the sharp blade beneath and watching the fabric part over its deadly sheen.

Oh Kevva, you were gorgeous. Bare below him, the tatters of your clothing perfectly framing your body. He hesitated with the blade near your shoulders, turning it slightly and lightly touching it to your neck. To the vein he knew pulsed life through you. So vulnerable beneath him. So trusting to sleep so soundly.

He could do anything to you.

With a grimace he closed the knife. He was not a good man, but he was not that one either.

Carefully he positioned himself over your body, his knees resting on each side of your stomach. He reached down with one hand, pressing his cock until the head just touched the skin of your chest. A slight shift and even in the low light he could see the trail of his own cum glisten on your skin, trailing from his cock, easing and preparing your body for when he moved back up. He was hypnotized, unable to tear his eyes away from the way his hardness contrasted to your softness. His cock almost grotesque against your tender delicacy.

Another shift in position and he could rest some of his weight on one hand, the other continuing to hold just the tip of himself to you. Painting your ribs with his precum. Drawing designs into the swell of your breasts. Nudging against your nipple and retreating until a thin line was stretched between the two points.

It was entrancing.

A slight shift further and he was leaning over you, pressing his cock to your lower lip, sighing to himself when your mouth opened ever so slightly and he could push forward until he met the hard edge of your teeth.

"Open for me, little dove," he groaned, pressing his thumb to your jaw. "I seek only paradise."

Your chin followed the pressure of his fingers and he slipped inside. The soft flesh of your tongue met his cock, the give of the muscle cradling him. The sight was almost too much for him. That beautiful, warm, perfect fucking mouth wrapped around his cock. His shaft twitched, his balls drawing up slightly. Only his quick reflexes kept him from coming on the spot, one hand reaching down to squeeze the base of his cock painfully as he pulled himself away from you.

You licked your lips and he squeezed harder, closing his eyes to block out the sight of you spread beneath him. Cautiously, with just one finger, he traced along the soft bow of your lips, wetting the digit before trailing it down the column of your throat.

Your heartbeat was fast, erratic.

He grinned, shifting his weight downwards, gently urging your thighs further apart with one hand while he held his body away from yours with the other. He settled there, his cock just barely nudging at your cunt, his mouth lowering to hiss into your ear.

"How long have you been awake, dove?"

Your hands lifted and clenched on his back, pulling him down to you and he allowed you your wish, sliding his cock inside you in the same movement. You gasped and your nails dug into his skin, urging him further. Ezra felt his lips pull back, his teeth sinking into your neck.

The dove was well and truly caught now.

He didn’t hold himself back, fucking up into your wet warmth hard, feeling himself touch the very heart of you. Your gasp into his ear was music and he repeated the motion just to hear the notes turn into a melody of whimpers and cries.

"You didn’t answer my question," he sucked your earlobe into his mouth while he murmured his words. Worrying the soft flesh between his teeth. "How long have you been enjoying my ministrations? Allowing me to debauch you?" He bit down hard on the word and you rewarded him with a sigh of his name.

"Your… your mouth," you manage to gasp out and he groaned, pressing his face to your neck. You had let him hold a knife to you. Use your body as a canvas for his weeping cock. Opened your mouth and allowed him to…

He jerked his body away and gripped your hips tight, unwrapping your legs from his waist and lifting you. Shoving you. Throwing you across the edge of his cot and pressing a hand to your spine to bend you over.

"What a pretty sight you are." His hand trailed down, pulling at the remains of your shirt and tossing it to the side. Your knees slid apart without his prompting and he stroked your thigh while he muttered his praise into your skin. "Good girl."

There was no mistaking the low moan at his words and he filed the information away for later. Nor could he fail to notice the clench of your muscles when he slid inside you again. He let his head fall back, closing his eyes and digging small indentations on your hips with the touch of his fingers.

"Laying here beside me, moaning my name, letting me touch you…" The sound of his hips snapping into yours was filling the tent. The wet suck of your cunt around his cock. He jerked on your shoulder, pulling you upright and wrapping both of his arms around you. Enclosing you in the coils of his body. His hand was wide enough to fully enclose your throat. Your own rose to grip it, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and pulling.

He tutted in your ear, gripping you harder. "This is exactly what you wanted and you are going to take it."

He could look down your body from this position, see your breasts bouncing as he fucked his cock into you, one of his hands pulling sharply on your nipple. The pretty spread of your thighs, even his own flesh when he pulled himself out of you just before ramming home again.  He let out a soft hum and pressed his cheek to yours. "Are you sure you don’t want to put those fingers to better use?"

One hand stayed on his arm but the other… he watched as the other dropped between your thighs. Fingers dipping downwards and then settling over your clit in sharp, jerky motions. You clenched down on him and he rewarded you with an open-mouth kiss on your cheek.

"Tell me pretty dove, what manner of serpent makes you sing?"

You made a strangled sound and he released you just slightly, allowing you to pull in a gasp of air. At the same time he delved his other hand between your parted thighs, knocking your hand out of the way. Circling where his cock is still pumping inside of you before rising higher. He captured your clit between two fingers, rubbing back and forth in time with the thrust of his hips.

"Ezra," the sound of his name is wrenched from you. A benediction, an offering, a prayer tossed carelessly into the darkness. He was no god, but he could certainly see the appeal of veneration. Of your veneration.

"You are exquisite," he groaned, feeling his balls draw up. "Can you fly for me? Toss yourself into the pit with me, my soiled dove?" He pinched your clit between his fingers and rolled it in quick circles and you convulsed. You would have screamed but his hand on your throat cut the noise off, his eyelids fluttering closed as he enjoyed the feeling of taking you apart with his cock and his fingers.

"Come here," he pulled at your shoulder, leaning back on his heels, "show me how you worship."

Your body was still shaking from your own pleasure but you took him into your mouth without hesitation. His cock sliding over your lips and tongue. His hands helped you when you faltered, digging into your neck and pulling you down until he slid all the way into your throat.

"Oh dearest dove I-"

Your muscles spasmed around his cock and he came. White flashing at the corner of his vision and his fingers clenching tight to your skin, cutting off your airways while he spilled into your mouth.

Le petit mort, they called it.

The little death.

Ezra had traded in death more than once in his ventures. Had seen the light go out of another’s eyes at his hand. He did not enjoy it, but would indulge when necessity dictated his actions. But this…

Holding your life in his hands while he was reborn.

This he enjoyed. This he had every intention of indulging himself in whenever the opportunity presented itself. Engorging himself even.

Your eyes met his and he stroked his thumb over the corner of your mouth, loosening his hold on your throat and catching a drop of his cum and pushing it back between your lips. Eyelashes lowering as you didn’t hesitate to take him, sucking on him and holding his gaze.

Yes, you had chosen your serpent. His venom still glistened on your lips.

He would have to see that you did not regret it.

.

.

Ezra Taglist:

@beautyagegoodnesssize , @iwantadecentblogname , @pintsizemama , @codenamewife , @michaelperry , @qwtyy , @thisgirl-knm ,​

@pascals-cat, @hotspacepilots , @rosiefridayrogersunday 

Permanent Taglist:

(y’all just remember you asked to be on this list)

[hangovercurse]

Falling Like the Stars

Pete and you had gotten in a fight the night before he left for filming, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your relationship.

Request: “pete and you take it to another room at a party 😉”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), cursing, angst

A/N: This is (loosely) based off Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur

Word Count: 3038

In all eight months of your relationship with Pete, you’d never gone this long without talking. Your phone was right in front of you, his contact in your favorites. But you couldn’t be the first to fold.

It had been 3 and a half weeks, 25 days, since he left for filming. Since that stupid fight.

Maybe you pushed him too far, maybe you expected too much of him, but you’d been together for eight months. And you knew you loved him. The night before he left, he’d taken you out on the most romantic date you’d ever been on, and when you guys got back to your place, you told him you loved him. And he didn’t say it back.

He didn’t say anything, he just shut down. After you begged him to say something, anything, he just gave you a frustrated, “what do you want me to say?”

And thus, the fight ensued, you accusing him of not caring about your relationship and him yelling at you for pressuring him into something he wasn’t ready for.

And maybe you were in the wrong, but you were hurt. You had put everything on the line for him, every inch of your soul was bare to him. And he crushed it. So, you fought. And he left. And you hadn’t talked since except a text from him saying he landed safely.

It was killing you inside. But you couldn’t keep this going if he wasn’t as invested as you were. So, you left it up to him to make the first move.

In the meantime, you occupied your mind with work, television, and mindless scrolling through social media. Your timeline was filled with pictures of your fans, activism posts, and fan accounts of Pete that you followed. One post in particular caught your eye, a picture you didn’t even know the fans had.

It was a picture you had taken of Pete on your first date, the morning after the two of you had met. The memory made you smile.

You were outside on Colson’s balcony, taking hits of the cigarette in your hand and watching the crowd of drunken partygoers below you.

Suddenly the sliding glass door opened behind you, and the most beautiful man you’d ever seen walked out. His hair was dark, his eyes even darker. He seemed gentle, kind, but also like he could rip you to shreds without hesitation. It was intoxicating.

“Oh,” he said upon seeing you, “sorry I didn’t think anyone would be out here.”

You smiled, “you’re good. I don’t mind the company.” He nodded, coming to lean against the railing next to you. You offered him the cigarette, which he graciously took.

“What’s a girl like you doing up here all by herself?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, “a girl like me?” A smirk made its way to your face when he looked over at you, eyes raking over your figure.

“I mean, someone as stunning as you shouldn’t be up here all alone. You should be down there, stealing everyone’s breath.”

His comment made you blush slightly. “It’s a bit too much down there for me. I don’t mind all the people but none of them are gonna remember anything in the morning. I don’t want to be that person. I want to remember tonight.”

This time, his eyebrow raised. “Is tonight a special night for you?” He asked.

You bit your lip, turning to face him fully. “I’m not sure yet. You tell me.”

He moved closer to you, hand delicately touching your waist. You took his hesitancy as a question of permission, to which you responded by reaching a hand to run up his arm, stopping on his shoulder. The man smirked, moving even closer to you.

“I’m Y/N.” You told him quietly.

His head dipped down, lips meeting yours, and you closed your eyes, taking in the sensation. Your mouths moved together in sync as his grip on your waist got tighter, pulling you closer to him. You brought your second hand up to wrap around his neck, lifting yourself up on your toes to get better access to his plush lips.

He pulled away from you slowly as your eyes opened, finding his brown ones exploring your face. “I’m Pete.” He whispered, before connecting your lips again.

His hands squeezed your waist, lifting you up slightly. You took the hint and jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as one hand moved up to support your back. He carried you back inside to the bedroom the balcony was attached to.

His mouth never left yours, his tongue lightly swiping against your lip. You granted him access, the feeling of your tongues colliding a pleasurable one, it made you feel even closer to him.

He set you onto the bed, finally detaching your lips. You whined as he stepped towards the door but stopped when his hand turned the lock. He chuckled at your neediness, rushing back to the bed, and climbing on top of you, forcing you to lay back onto the bed.

Your hands went to his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands. His hands traveled your middle, reaching the bottom of your shirt. He paused before pulling it up, making sure it was okay with you that he did so.

Once the fabric was removed to reveal your bra-clad chest, he smirked down at you, taking in your body. Pete let out a soft “wow,” that you probably weren’t supposed to hear.

It made you smirk, your hands removing the jacket from him before pulling his shirt over his head. The tattoos on his chest and arms revealed themselves, and you took a moment to admire them. Absentmindedly, you reached out to trace one on his arm, making him grin. Instead of saying anything, he reconnected your lips.

His bare skin on yours made heat run from every part of your body straight to your core. You could feel him hardening through his jeans, and you wanted nothing more than to rip them off. Pete had a similar idea, hands moving to unclasp your bra and he pulled the fabric from your skin. His hands remained there, massaging the tissue, and occasionally squeezing your hardening nipples with his fingers.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your mouth, moving his head down to press a soft kiss to your neck. One kiss turned into two, then three, and suddenly Pete was kissing a path to your breasts.

Once his lips connected with your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His teeth grazed the bud lightly, switching between each breast to give them both the attention they deserved.

The hands that you had tangled in his hair pulled lightly, nails scratching his skull in a way that drove him crazy. He finally left your chest, pressing sloppy kisses down your stomach until he reached the top of your jeans.

Pausing, he looked up at you. “Do you want this?” He asked, sweetly.

You bit your lip, looking down at him and taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. “Yes, Pete. Please.” You asked, earning a smile from him. His hands unbuttoned your pants, pulling them down your legs slowly before tossing them across the room. He stood up and removed his own pants, leaving only two sets of thin cloth in between your heat and his member.

His face returned to its position at the top of your panties. He lightly nipped at the skin there, causing a small groan to escape your lips. He smirked, grabbing the top of your panties in his teeth, and dragging them downwards, exposing your pussy. He used his hands to help his mouth pull the material all the way down your legs, your panties soon joining the rest of your clothes on the floor somewhere.

You took in a breath when his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them apart. His breath hit your heat as he looked up at you, basking in the beauty of your expression. He’d barely touched you and you were already putty in his hands.

At this thought he brought his lips to your clit, sucking on the small bundle. At the contact you moaned out softly, hands gripping the sheets below you. His tongue peaked out to lick at your slit, slowly dipping into your heat.

He switched his focus from your slit to your clit and back intermediately, one hand eventually dancing up your thigh to join him. As his lips sucked on your clit his middle finger pressed into your wet hole. Another moan came from you as his long finger stretched you out.

He smiled against you when he heard your sounds as he pumped the digit in and out of you. When he felt you were ready, he added a second finger. Picking up his pace, he started curling his fingers as he pumped, hitting your walls.

You could feel your climax building, but he pulled out before you could get too close. He sat up on his knees, eyes finding yours. You watched as he slowly licked his fingers clean, climbing off the bed and finding his jeans. He grabbed a foil wrapper from one of the pockets and brought it back to the bed. He pulled his underwear down, exposing his long, hard dick.

You moaned at the sight, excited at the thought of him filling you up. He rolled the condom onto his member, pumping himself a few times. He lined himself up with your entrance, watching your face.

“You still want this?” He asked.

You loved how he kept asking, kept making sure this was okay with you. “Yes.” You let out, softly, the anticipation killing you.

At your consent, he pushed into you, slowly. His large cock filled you up, stretching your pussy out. Pete let out a quiet groan as you adjusted to him. His lips found their way to your neck again, hot breath hitting your skin.

He pulled out slowly, pushing back in as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Fuck you feel so good.” He mumbled into your skin. He thrusted into you again, harder this time. Your hands went to his back, gripping onto him.

Pete started picking up his pace, dick thrusting in and out of you harder every time. Your nails began to dig into his skin, definitely leaving marks. You let out small whimpers every time he hit the perfect spot in your tight pussy.

More kisses were placed on your neck as Pete pounded into you, your hips rolling up to meet his. The vibrations from his moans against your skin made everything feel so much better, and you knew you were getting close.

The feeling of his cock twitching alerted you to the fact that he was close, too. So, you let out a whine, “I’m close, Pete.”

He hummed against your neck, “me too, baby.” He continued to push you closer and closer to your climax, “mmm, feel so good around me princess.”

His lips came up to meet yours, tongue establishing dominance in your mouth. One hand found your breast, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The stimulations sent you closer and closer to the edge, until you could feel yourself at the tipping point.

The only sound in the room was your lips against his and the slapping of your skin as Pete’s cock filled you up more and more. His thrusts got sloppier and sloppier until he moaned against your lips, his hot seed filling the condom inside of you. The sensation sent you into an abyss of bliss, your orgasm crashing over you.

Your hips bucked into his as you came undone, his cock still thrusting into you but much lazier now. The feeling of a thousand pins spread through your body, creating a warm and fuzzy feeling.

Once you had both come down from your highs, he pulled out of you. He disposed of the condom and grabbed his underwear, pulling it on. He then tossed your panties and his shirt over to you, which you gladly put on.

Pete crashed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his side. You nuzzled into him, taking in his scent of cigarettes, sex, and chocolate. You pressed a kiss to the side of his chest, the closest place your lips could get to. He chuckled, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

“I figured instead of joining the lame ass party downstairs, we could steal this room for the night. Then maybe I can take you to breakfast in the morning?” He asked, watching for your reaction.

You looked up at him, a smile on his face, “I would really, really like that.”

Breakfast was, obviously, successful, as you and Pete went out for dinner the next day, and then two days after that. Eventually he was bringing you to meet his family and you introduced him to your co-workers. It wasn’t until he took you backstage to Saturday Night Live that he officially called you his girlfriend whilst introducing you to Colin Jost and Michael Che, but you had both been exclusively with each other since you’d met.

You frowned, thinking about those memories. God, you missed Pete. You should have never said anything, you should have just let it go. Now you might never get him back.

But every part of you craved him. You wanted him here to hold you and kiss you. You wanted him to buy you stupid gifts like he did sometimes. You wanted to talk about literally nothing but that be enough for you two.

You couldn’t help but let your mind drift to where it would often go to. You and Pete in a few years, buying a house together. Your kids playing in the backyard. Going to sports games and recitals with them, taking them to see Pete at work. Getting married in front of all of your friends and family.

You wanted all of it. You had never wanted that life before you met Pete, but now it was all you could think about. You didn’t know what your future would look like without Pete, and you didn’t want to know.

So, against your vow to yourself, you called him.

“Y/N?” He asked. He sounded tired, sad. Hearing him made you freeze; you’d missed his voice. “Is everything okay?”

You bit your lip before answering, your voice coming out as a whisper, “yeah I just, I just miss you, is all.”

Pete let out a sad sigh on the other end of the phone. “I miss you, too.” He said. “I should’ve called you, I just wanted to give you space. I know we didn’t leave off in a good place.”

You stayed quiet, tears coming to your eyes as you recalled the night again. “It’s okay, Pete. I shouldn’t have thrown that on you and I shouldn’t have pushed you to say… that.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You could tell Pete was thinking because he didn’t answer right away. “No, I- I shouldn’t have left you like that. We should’ve talked about it more.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, sniffling. “Pete it’s okay, really. I was in the wrong and I pushed you away. I made you leave.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve stayed.” You could hear the sadness in his voice and it broke your heart. He sighed, “princess, give me like five minutes and then we can talk about this more, okay?” You hummed into the receiver and the line went dead.

You sunk further into the couch, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt like you were crumbling into little pieces without him. And now he was avoiding important conversations with you.

You came to the realization that you should’ve made the night he left; he doesn’t want you anymore. The thought made you breakdown even more, your breathing quickening and sobs escaping you as you buried your face into your hands that were covered in the sleeves of Pete’s sweater.

A few minutes later you heard a knock on your door. Even though you were in no state to answer it, you did so anyways. You found your person standing there, shoulders hunched and eyes red. Pete held a teddy bear in one hand and a heart shaped box of chocolates in the other. He looked as good as ever, but also like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“I was literally pulling onto your street when you called me.” He chuckled as you led him inside. He set the teddy bear and chocolates on your coffee table, pulling you onto the couch next to him. “I couldn’t stand how we left things so I asked for the next few days off so that I could come see you.” He grabbed your hand lacing your fingers together.

“I mean seriously, Y/N. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even focus on the movie because I was just always thinking about you. It was terrifying.”

You smiled a little bit, scooting closer to him. When you spoke, your voice came out hoarse, “I missed you so much.” You couldn’t believe that he was actually here. That he had flown back to New York just to see you. “I’m sorry I made you leave and didn’t say goodbye.”

He grabbed your chin, pulling your eyes up to meet his. “I’m sorry that I was too scared to tell you how I feel.” You gave him a quizzical look. “I was so fucking scared of admitting it to myself, much less to you. But I know now, I’m sure now.”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered.

He leaned in close to you, breath hitting your lips, “I’m not scared anymore.” He said, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, short kiss. “I’m in love with you, princess.”

Your breath got caught in your throats as the words you’d been aching to hear fell from his lips. You leaned forward, kissing him again. “So fuckin in love with you.” He mumbled.

You rested your forehead against his, breaths intertwining. “I love you, Pete.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Loss

Summary: Your husband had to learn a lesson. That he would have to sacrifice your marriage by losing a bet to August Walker seemed something he just accepted. That he would lose you to August in that process wasn’t something he expected. 

Pairing: August Walker x F!Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings: gonna tag this as dub con to be safe, also: soft August (yeah just as surprising to me as it is to you) smut (Oral; female receiving, protected sex), mentions of a miscarriage, infedelity 

A/N: It’s been a hot minute. I’ve had this idea a while ago, but only now had the motivation to finish it. Hope you enjoy this wiiiiiild August journey

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Looking at your husband you tried to make sense of the words that had just come out of his mouth. You had been thinking about divorcing him before. He just wasn’t the man you had fallen in love with all these years ago. You didn’t care for luxury. You wanted the man back that you fell in love with. The man who stayed up with you at night, watching the stars, reading to you until you fell asleep.

The man was long gone.

He changed once you had moved to the states. His suits got more and more expensive and the time he spends with you got less and less. His answer for everything seemed to be to throw money at it. You had a big collection of jewelry, shoes, art, you name it. But all you wanted was him. At least you used to until you found out just exactly how he made his money.

Selling weapons on the black market.

“You lost a bet. And you bet me? What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m not your whore, I’m your wife.” you shook your head.

“Look I need you to do this one thing for me and then I’ll give you everything you want, honey.” He said exhausted, not looking you in the eye. You sucked your bottom lip in, your body shaking with rage.

“You want me to fuck a man I’ve never met before? And you’re okay with it? Just like that?” You fought back the tears threatening to escape. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll make it up to you. Everything you want.” He said quietly. He would get you anything you wanted? Fine.

“Everything I want?” you asked to be sure.

“Everything.” he nodded, finally looking at you. Almost 15 years ago you had looked into his green eyes for the first time. You always thought these would be the eyes of the man you would grow old with. But now all you felt was a disappointment.

“Fine. One night with me for this Mr. Walker for everything I want from you.”

This was really happening. It was a week later, you were sitting in your bedroom, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your husband had instructed you to wear the sexiest lingerie you owned. Shaking your head you heard a knock at the door.

“You ready?” your husband asked. You looked at him in the mirror. Even now he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Don’t you feel the tiniest bit of guilt at whoring out your wife to some shady men you made business with?” you asked.

“I’m sorry…” he said quietly. Closing your eyes you got up from your seat, pulling the long silk robe you were wearing closer around your body. You wouldn’t be sleeping with the man. Not in a million years. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t gonna make your husband feel bad about it.

Stopping next to him you patted his chest.

“Maybe he knows how to make me cum,” you whispered against his ear before you walked out into the living room.

You always loved this house. It reminded you of your parent’s home. It was warm and you had spent so much time decorating it. Now, sitting on the sofa as your beloved husband welcomed the man he had practically sold you to, all you felt was cold. This hasn’t been a home for a long time.

Nursing the glass of champagne you ignored your surroundings, your mind trying to figure out when the last time was your husband had actually talked to you. When did it all go downhill? Even in the beginning when he started working with these shady people he had always made sure you were happy. You wanted to have a baby. That you were pregnant at some point but lost the child before the third month was something the two of you had never talked about after it happened. Only you and your therapist knew how much you mourned the loss of your unborn child.

“Mr. Walker, this is my wife,” you heard your husband say. Well... Showtime you joked to yourself, emptying the glass of champagne before you turned your head to look at the man who had entered the room.

“I know,” the man said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours. You knew him. He had been over a few times. You had never spoken to him, but sometimes it was like you could feel his eyes on you. He was tall, dark curls framing his face, but it was his eyes, that captured you. The light blue a contrast to the darkness that seemed to surround him. You didn’t get why he was wearing a mustache but somehow it seemed right.

“Mr. Walker,” you nodded and he held out his hand that you took, helping you up before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. He released your hand, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as you swallowed the knot that had formed in your throat.

“Pleasure,” he winked and you breathed in deep. His eyes didn’t leave your face and you had almost forgotten that you weren’t alone when your husband coughed behind you.

“Scotch, Mr. Walker?” he asked. August shook his head.

“No. I’m not here to drink.”

“Did you forget your whored me out already?” you asked, looking at your husband before you walked past both of the men towards your bedroom.

“Honey…” he warned. You shrugged.

“Come on, Mr. Walker. I think we wasted enough time already.” You said over your shoulder, not waiting as you made your way down the hallway.

You left the door open, your confidence shrinking the further you went into the bedroom. Sucking your bottom lip in you knew that you wouldn’t stand a chance if August Walker would want to have sex with you. A shiver ran over your body and you jumped as the door clicked close behind you.

Slowly you turned around, looking at the man that leaned at the door. You were about to open your mouth to ask him how on earth he would think about even suggesting something like this when he sighed.

“I’m not here to fuck you. I’m merely here so that your husband learns his lesson.” He pushed himself from the door walking to the sofa that was in front of the big window overlooking the ocean. You watched him, as he sat down, taking out his phone, and began to read.

Unsure on how to proceed you sat down on your bed with a loud sigh. He merely looked up at you, a small smile on his lips before he focused back on his phone. That gave you time to look at him.

You had noticed him before when he came by, always wearing the most expensive suits. He always seemed calm, spoke quietly which made him somehow more dangerous.

“Is this something you do often?” you asked, hugging your knees, making sure you were covered by the robe you were wearing. He looked up, one eyebrow raised.

“Teaching people lessons?” You added sarcastically.

“Only if they think they can make a fool out of me. Usually, my lesson involves a more… physical approach, but I didn’t want you to suffer through his recovery.” He set his phone down on the sofa next to him.

“Maybe you should pick something he loves more than me to teach a lesson then. Like his scotch.” You rolled your eyes.

“He loves you.” Mr. Walker said. You chuckled.

“Yeah. Clearly he does. Mr. Walker would you let any other man lay a hand on the woman you love?” you asked. He looked at you and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t name. Longing? Desperation?

“I would kill the man who even dared to suggest such thing.” He said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours. You ignored the shiver that ran down your back. “And please call me August.”

“Well then, August,” you had to smile a little. “How does this work? How long am I to be at your pretend mercy?”

“I do like to take my time when I’m with a beautiful woman. So make yourself comfortable.” He winked and you rolled your eyes.

“Pretty full of yourself, huh?”

“I never had any complaints,” he shrugged.

“Ever thought people had been too scared to actually complain?” You tried to hide your smile, as August chuckled, shaking his head before he got up and slowly took off his suit jacket.

“I’d like to think the women I fuck are too satisfied to complain.” He folded the jacket, letting it hang over the sofa.

“Well if that’s the case I envy these women…” you whispered. He still stood there, in all his wide-shouldered glory, looking at you. Slowly you sat yourself up, crossing your legs as you lean with your hands back on the bed, supporting your upper body.

“You have a loving husband, I’m sure there’s….”

“What is it that you do August? Why did my husband get involved with you? Why… Why is everything more important to him than I am?” You shook your head. “Nevermind, don’t answer that.” You let yourself fall back on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

Minutes went by before he spoke again.

“Do you still love him?” August asked. You turned your head, seeing him still standing next to the sofa.

“I am in love with the man he once was. But the man out there? The man who asked his wife to sleep with a man because he lost a bet in some gambling? How could I love him?”

“He does love you.”

“He certainly has a funny way of showing it.” You grumbled.

“What do you miss most? About him?” August asked. You turned to your side, not caring if your robe wasn’t covering you anymore. Somehow you felt safer with August, only knowing him for an hour or so, than with the man you were married to.

“The way he used to look at me. How we could spend all night talking. How we used to not leave the bed all weekend. I miss feeling safe in his arms when we used to dance with him humming a song in the moonlight…” you closed your eyes.

“That’s a lot you miss,” August said quietly. You heard him come closer and you opened your eyes as he knelt in front of you.

“I’ve been lonely for a long time. He may love me, but I don’t think he is still in love with me. And I’m not with him.” You felt his hand on top of yours then.

“Come on.” He pulled you up from the bed and you let him.

“What?” You asked confused.

“Dance with me.”

Slowly you let him guide you to the middle of your bedroom, his hand holding yours until he stopped. Shuddering you breathed out before you looked up at him. His thumb rubbed circles over the back of your hand and like you had done it a million times before your other hand curled in the back of his neck. He was so close. He closed his eyes at your touch, breathing in deep, before his other hand came to rest on your back, slowly pushing you against him, before he began to lead you into a slow dance.

His eyes opened just when you decided to rest your head on his shoulder. Your fingers played with the hair in his neck and you may have imagined it, but you felt him shiver. You breathed him in, feeling a little dizzy feeling someone so close again. He kissed the top of your head.

“I wanted you since the first time I saw you almost a year ago,” he whispered. “You didn’t even know I was there when you were outside in the garden. I think you were cutting some flowers, wearing a blue summer dress. I watched you instead of listening to your husband who was trying to sell me god knows what.” You closed your eyes, letting him talk.

“He doesn’t deserve you. Fuck I don’t think I deserve you. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and when he lost everything he had with him at the poker table I did the first thing that popped into my mind.”

You breathed in deep. Slowly his hand on your back had wandered lower, stopping just above the curve of your ass. You shivered.

“He told me I can get everything I want when I do this, you, for him.” You said quietly. “So to get what I want you to have to take what you want.” You looked up at him, seeing the storm in his eyes.

“How is the man that supposed to love me learn his lesson if he doesn’t suffer?”

“Don’t…” he growled.

“He thinks you’re fucking me, August,” you got on your tiptoes, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t you think he should hear how you fuck me too?” He released a breath, his hand finally running down, grabbing your ass as he pulled you even closer.

“I won’t be leaving his house without you afterward,” he said, making sure to look into your eyes.

“That’s good, cause I don’t want to stay here with him afterward.”

He closed his eyes, his hand releasing yours after he gently lay it down on his shoulder. He reached for your face, tilting your chin up before opening his eyes.

“How long?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“How long hasn’t he touched you?” August leaned down, kissing your forehead, your temple, your eyes.

“At least a year…” you breathed out, melting against him.

“Fuck…” he cursed before his lips crashed down on yours. His hand caressed your face, pulling you closer as you held on to him. You parted your lips, moaning when his tongue slipped into your mouth. He tasted dark and dangerous and you didn’t want to live without tasting him ever again.

He tugged on the belt holding your robe together, pushing it off your shoulder as your fingers slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned against your lips before his mouth wandered down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders when you finished unbuttoning it your hands pulled his head down to kiss his lips.

“I want you on the bed. Legs spread,” he whispered, his voice deep and you whimpered as you turned away from him, walking over to the bed to lay down. You watched him, as he opened his pants, pushing them down, getting his shoes off in the process. One of your hands ran down your body, slipping in between your legs. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this wet. Rubbing slow circles over your still clothed clit you bit your lip as you watched him come over.

“Show me how wet this pussy is for me,” he demanded hoarsely. You bit your lip as he knelt on the bed in front of you. Pushing your panties to the side you heard him groan.

“Fucking soaked. Touch yourself,” he grabbed your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg as you teased yourself, wanting nothing more than his mouth on you. You cried out, when he playfully bit the inside of your thigh, both of his hands parting your legs wider.

“Make him hear you,” he smirked before his tongue licked through your slit. You threw your head back, your hands grabbing the bedsheet beneath you. He nibbled and sucked, his tongue driving your sheer insane.

“There… Right there…” you grabbed his hair, grinding your hips against his mouth. You felt one of his hands ran up your body as he looked up at you, his lips sucking on your clit. He pushed two of his fingers into your mouth, you sucked hard and almost biting him. He chuckled against you, his fingers leaving your mouth only to bring them down to your pussy as he released your clit.

“You gonna cum for me?” His fingers lazily circled your clit before he slowly pushed them into you. You parted your lips, breathing loudly, trying to maintain eye contact until he angled his fingers.

“Fuck August,” you cried out, surprised by the wave of pleasure that shot through your body.

“There it is…” he grinned. You moaned when he focused on that spot inside of you.

“I need…” you began only to moan loudly when his tongue was back on your clit. Your eyes flew open, your hands grabbing his thick hair.

“I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, moaning loudly when your orgasm washed over you, your legs shaking, your thighs caging August in between your legs. He moaned against you, devouring you like you were his last meal, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm until it became too much and you whimpered, pushing him gently away.

“Fuck me…” you whimpered, trying to normalize your breathing.

“That’s the plan,” he teased, grinning down at you.

“Fuck you,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, that too.”

You shook your head with a smile. He kissed up your body, stopping at your bra.

“Let’s get you naked so I can fuck you.” You sat up, letting him take off your bra. He pushed you down into the mattress, kissing the valley of your boobs as his other hand slowly pushed your panties down.

“I want you inside of me,” you pulled at his hair, earning a moan from him. “And I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Careful what you ask for, princess.”

“I want to feel you every time I sit down in the next days. I won’t break…”

“At least not today,” he winked before he pushed his boxers down. You bit your lip as he stroked his cock. It was bigger than any you had before.

“Condom?” you asked. He nodded, jumping off the bed to get to his pants.

“So you weren’t planning on this happening, huh?” You raised your eyebrow as he walked over, pulling the condom over his cock.

“Wishful thinking.” He slapped your thigh, hard and you whimpered.

“You liked that huh?” He slapped you again. You moaned, turning on the bed to get on your hands and knees.

“Don’t be gentle,” you reminded him, wiggling your ass as you looked at him over your shoulder. His eyes seemed to darken as his hands landed on your hips, pulling you towards him as if you weighed nothing.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he said before he entered you in one hard thrust.

“FUCK!” you cried out loudly.

“Still sure you don’t want me to be gentle?” He asked close to your ear as he bends down, his teeth pulling at your earlobe.

“Do your worst,” you clenched your inner muscles making him curse. He slapped your ass, hard.

“You’re such a bad girl, princess. What am I gonna do with you?” He kissed down your back before he pulled out and entered you again. You didn’t get time to answer when he began to fuck you. Deep and hard, just how you liked it. His fingers would leave bruises on your hips from the way he held you and you would wear these marks with pride.

“Such a tight fucking pussy. I knew you’d be the death of me…” he groaned. You let yourself fall on your elbows, the change of angle making you see stars.

“Shit I want to cum inside of this pussy. Mark you from the inside so every fucking man on this planet knows your mine…” He slapped your ass and you whimpered his name. It never felt like that. Sex never felt that good…

“I’m yours. All yours…” you moaned, your head pressed into the mattress to lower your moans. You felt him pull at your hair.

“No. Let me hear you. Let him hear what he lost when he put his job in front of the woman he loves.” One of his arms pulled your upper body up against his chest, his hand holding one of your boob

s as he fucked into you.

“August…” you cried out.

“That’s it. Cum for me.” He thrust faster, holding you close and pulled at your nipple. Your orgasm took you by surprise, like a tidal wave spreading over your whole body and August fucked you through it following you only moments later, biting into your shoulder, marking you as his.

You stayed there, in his arms, his cock still deep inside of you, the only noise in the room your heavy breathing. He kissed your shoulder softly, his lips wandering up to your neck until you turned your head and he kissed you.

“You really wanna get out of here?” He asked.

“If you’ll have me?”

August was standing next to the two suitcases you had packed that contained only some clothes you would need. You made sure to wear a strapless top so your husband could see the marks August had left on you. Your wedding band and engagement ring lay on your side of the bed.

“Ready?” August asked quietly. He was standing at the door. You nodded, taking one last look before you opened the door. Your husband was sitting across the door at the wall, staring up at you as you stepped out.

“Everything I want?” You said. He nodded with a small relieved smile until August stepped out of the door and you made sure your husband saw that you weren’t wearing your wedding band when you took August’s hand.

You looked down at him, seeing his face fall. Once upon a time you had loved this man. But this was before he had willingly sold you. Before he had neglected you. Before he had ignored you.

“Everything I want,” you squeezed August’s hand as you looked at your husband, seeing him nod slowly. You took one suitcase and August the other, bigger one. You saw your husband’s eyes wander up your body, stopping at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“Everything you want,” your husband said with a sad expression.

“Consider your debt paid,” August said, before he squeezed your hand. You looked at him then, his eyes on you and you couldn’t help but smile.

You didn’t know that this would be the beginning of something you had been searching for all your life. A life with a man at your side who would always put you first. And who would let the whole world burn before any other man would have the chance to even think about touching what was his.

[honey-lemonz]

From wattpad:

Xmale reader

3rd pov

Sexual Content is included move on if not comfortable with

Includes:masturbation, but plug, dildo, getting caught, slight degrading rough and passionate sex, multiple orgasms, sexual frustrated Obanai.

Request by:EMOPHASEWHENIWASAKID

(Some parts by me other by the Request..)

(if you read American boy here is your smut that I never added. Taisho era)

For almost two years the sun pillar was sent away on an expedition mission to northern Japan, the rumor of the blue spider lily was heard around. A rumor that sounded so true that Muzan may go there himself.

The pillar wasn't sent for the flower he was sent for the upper moon that could be sent or the demon lord himself.

Leaving behind his younger siblings, Tanjiro and Nezuko who was demon. He was also leaving his lover. Iguro Obanai the serpent pillar.

Obanai understood reasons they sent him. He could handle the cold and could handle the upper moon without and problems..its just..

Its been two whole years without him. That meant no one to come home to at their home. Kaburamaru had no ball of sunshine that could let him sleep in his hair. But for obanai it was worst.

Two years sexually frustrated.

Obanai has tried many things even taken suggestions from others. Nothing. 

He could get off on just memories or the kimono's he wore that were left behind. He has sent letters but most were professional ones. Not any promising any punishment or any reward when he would return. It would get to were he would put a but plug in his ass just to satisfy the itch that his lovers cock could get to.

He had to be feeling the same way? Right?

Or was someone else pleasuring him? No he couldn't, Obanai knew. Only he could satisfy his lover the best.

The serpent pillar sat on the back patio of his shared home. For the time being he had finished taking another nap. He had a dream about a fantasy about his lover returning and fucking him ruthlessly.

But a dream is only as good as you make it.

He walked back to the futon on the floor. Feeling the arousal slowly makings its way out of his tight heat. The but plug wasn't going to work anymore. He needed something fucking him, penetrating him.

Pulling the (favorite color) toy out of his hole, leaving it gaping and stretched. Obanai whined at the loss full feeling. But he got up and went into the bathroom. In a small black box were a box full of toys Obanai had even before meeting his lover.

But after meeting him..they weren't needed at all.

Obanai squatted and looked inside for the dildo he wanted. He found one that was about 5 and half inches and was a good 2 inches wide. It should do for now.

In these two years he has been a horny mess. Constantly needing something to please him and the uphill battle of his needs. He just wanted his lover back to please all those needs. 

God it was infuriating.

Obanai's own cock was still hard as when he woke up from his nap. Tip red and need of attention. It was painful but still didn't go away. He just could not finish.

Obanai sat down on the silicone dildo and moaned at the feeling. it wasn't a bratty or a desirable one just a moan of something inside him. It filled a good percent but not enough to reach his prostate. Obanai started to move up and down, bouncing on the dildo.

His white kimono slipping off his shoulders, showing his smooth skin and none marked skin. that was another whole problem he didn't like. 

Trying to get down to the hilt of the dildo to at least graze his prostate to ease the itch, he was moaning and gasping at the fullness. Maybe this time his needs would be met.

Obanai was stroking himself and teasing his nipples, the sensitive buds were being pulled at and pinched, leaving the pillar awe struck. 

Moaning his lovers name as if it was a cry or a plea. Obanai speed up his pace, moving to lye on his back and use his hands. One hand stroking himself the other using the dildo to fuck himself. He was so close, eyes becoming glossy at the feeling. 

"(M?N) FUCK~! Fuck, fuck, shit, please my love come fuck me.." he was crying for his dear lover. The dildo wasn't hitting the right spots no more, and the itch grew even more harsh. His toes curling and his head thrown back on the futon.

"Why when your obviously doing it yourself? Having a hard time getting off my cute little baby?"

Obanai froze. His eyes snap open to see his love sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the room. He was in his uniform, (favorite color) but plug in hand inspecting it. "So this is what you have been doing while I have been away. Begging me to come home and fuck you silly like the slut you are? That's quite surprising isn't it."

His words weren't hurtful just teasing. Obanai could see the large bugle growing in his pants. The sun pillar had his hair down which rested the floor. His uniform at the top was slightly unbuttoned at the showing his chest and abdomen. His eyes had bags under them. But his eyes..

Something Obanai has only seen a handful of times.

Eyes were darker and burning with a lust. His stare and hoarse voice was enough to set the tone.

Obanai felt his cock twitch and he moaned out a spur of curses. 

"Now your having dry orgasms by just my appearance? You must be a desperate little whore today aren't you?" He didn't move from his spot what so ever.

Just drinking in on his expression. It was filling and made both Obanai and (M/n) twitch.

"Please, my love its been two fucking years with out you,please fuck me.." The sun pillar chuckled. "So my cutie is begging to be fucked? That's unlike you Obanai. If you can fuck yourself can't yo get off?"

Obanai groaned at the teasing. He just wanted him to fuck him. 

The an idea came to him.

His lover looked too calm for him. He needed him to get to his level of arousal, by being a fucking brat about things. if he wanted to get fucked he needed to do more.

"No."

The eyes on the sun pillar widen. 

"Why no then cutie? I just saw you so continue."

"No. I want you to fuck me. Unless you've lost your touch." Obanai said getting a little more confident. If keep going he would get the punishment he deserved.

"If my dildo was that close than what says you? I've used them plenty since you left two years ago. SO why don't you come over here and fuck me. Or has the sun pillar found a better bottom bitch to fuck?"

That set the fuel to the flame.

Calm and collected turned to possessive and aroused.

(M/n) was possessive of Obanai, he loved him and only him. Insinuating that he found a better person to fuck made the calm pillar pissed. Obanai knew this, because his lover can get jealous and possessive he knew what he did.

And is getting what he wanted.

The sun pillar was on Obanai in less than a second.

Choking his neck tightly and pinning his hands above his head. Eyes that were usually full of love and kindness, were dark with lust and irritation. He knew his words were empty but couldn't let it up.

"Why when I have a bratty bottom slut here? You want to piss me off for a good fuck cutie? You want me to pound you, make sure you can't walk for a fucking year?"

Obanai had another dry orgasm from his words. This is what two years of a pent up sun pillar was..

Then he should be sent off more often. ( Empty threat.) He hasn't even touched him fully for him to even think like that. The red headed male unbuttoned the rest of his uniform, not having the patience to take off all of his clothes. He undid the belt, taking the hands off of Obanais wrist.

His cock sprung free.

Oh how Obanai wanted to suck him off and tease him. But now wasn't the time.

(M/n) pulled the dildo out and scowled at it.

"Such a pathetic size, this trying to please your for that long, no wonder you couldn't get off cutie..don't worry we'll fix that..

positioning him at Obana's desperate hole, he slammed into him.

"Now!"

Obanai threw his head back and scream. His cock spurted long ropes of cum. Something he couldn't do until now.

"Cumming already? We just started, you really were a desperate slut?" He slammed into him again. Ever word followed a thrust, each time hitting Obanai's prostate and making his see stars. (M/n)'s past wasn't fast or slow. Just from Obanai challenging him made him almost bust a load.

The hand around Obanai's neck tightened, pushing on certain spots to not restrict air, just to make him a little dizzy. Obanai's toes curled as his lover slammed his cock into his tight heat all while degrading him.

His reward.

(M/n) pushed his legs to his chest, making his cock go even deeper into Obanai's dripping heat. He was truly surprised, he was that pent up himself. He didn't even have time to masturbate himself on the expedition.

"Fuck, my cutie your so cute looking fucked out of your mind. Is that what you wanted? To get fucked stupid by me?"

Incoherent word mumbled back a response.

"Yes..please~ fuck..*hic* me more~" He was hiccuping from the tears. The long haired pillar nodded and made sure to aim for his prostate and to basically abuse it as best as he could. Sweat ran down his forehead, making his hair stick to it. The white shirt underneath the black on was sticking to the sides of his torso.

Obanai's eyes had tears brimming out, drool slipping from his lips. His hands held his legs to his chest, hair spread out on the futon all around him. Moans and shouts, hollers and begs came out of his mouth without a care of who heard.

That's what the larger pillar wanted. he wanted anyone and everyone hear his beloved getting fucked out of his mind.

"Such a good little slut..you want the whole village and headquarters to hear your getting a good fuck cutie? You want them to hear you getting pounded by your lover? How you begged and been a bratty  bitch with a fucking plug between your legs? You want to be seen as my slut then I will make you my slut."

He pulled out of Obanai's tight and puckered out hole, flipping him face first into the futon. Using his foot to keep him in place and rammed back into him and a faster pace. Obanai's moans and screams were blocked from the futon mat he was getting fucking into.

 His cock spurted more roped of cum even though it wasn't touched.  His lover feverishly gripping and slapping his ass for good measure.

"God fuck, i'm going to cum and fill your little whore hole kay? I need you to tell me who the fuck gets to fuck your bratty ass kay cutie?"

Mumbles came as an answer. (M/n) making and annoyed noise, pushed his foot harder on Obanai's head. "Can't hear you cutie, you don't get my cum if i can't hear you like fucking you. Again and louder.  Why can fuck this bratty ass cutie?"

"Y-you.."

"Louder cutie!" He removed his foot from his head and pushed his chest into Obanai's back, teasing his over sensitive nipples and continued slamming into him.

"LOUDER."

"FuCk~ YOU DO!" Obanai had tears all over his face, face read and a mess.

"Good now let me fill you with cum like the slut your are. Such a pretty cutie for me." As he said that another orgasm ran through Obanai. It was becoming painful a little.

Obanai's babbles were filled with begs about being his cumslut and filling him to the brink. With one final thrust, making the smaller male see stars again. His desperate prostate and hole was filled with thick and large amounts of the larger's cum.

Emptying himself out, Obanai's hole was milking him dry of the desperate need that was begging to be released. His loved pushed deeper to make sure he took all he had to offer.

He slowly pulled out of his stretched and abused hole, gaping at the loss of contact and fullness. Obanai screamed again while being filled and also came again. He could feel his lovers seed push out of his hole and onto the futon below them.

Pushing the hair out of his face, (M/n) looked at the sight his lover was him. The demon slayer below him, the feared serpent pillar of the demon slayer headquarters looked as if he had been drugged.

Well he was, off of his lovers addicting seed, smell and cock.

"You did so well cutie, such a good slut. See if you follow instructions you could get fucked like this more often instead of pissing me off kay?"

This even only made Obanai want to be even more of a brat to him.

^wattpad, kny oneshots.

[willowcrowned]

Star Wars Time Travel AU - Flavor: Anakin and Obi-Wan, from ROTJ to TPM

I asked, you guys answered. Here it is: Obi-Wan and Anakin get sent back to TPM after ROTJ, and proceed to confuse everyone. In everyone’s defense, Anakin and Obi-Wan have a lot of confusing trauma.

The thing about being dead is that it’s not quite as restful as everyone made it out to be. 

Oh, Obi-Wan is sure that if he’d done the irresponsible thing and ignored Qui-Gon and passed properly into the netherworlds of the Force instead of following his bloody Path of the Whills, he would be perfectly happy floating along as part of the larger universe. And alright, he doesn’t regret doing it because Luke desperately needed the help, what with Yoda’s isolation having made him only more reticent, but it’s still annoying. Because even though he watched Anakin toss Sidious down a reactor shaft and die peacefully in his sons arms before moving on, the next phase of existence looks a whole lot like the Healer’s Ward at the Jedi temple forty years ago, and he’s being stared at by one very alive-looking Mace Windu.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan says, because being dead is no excuse for being impolite. “Whose idea was it to decorate like this? I find it rather gauche.”

One also very alive looking Vokara Che sends him a warning look. “Large windows and pale colors are beneficial to the health of patients.”

“Oh, I think we’re rather past the need for worrying about our health,” Obi-Wan jokes.

Vokara just gives him a confused and suspicious look. “Are you alright, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan feels hysterical laughter bubble up inside him. He’s dead. He watched the Jedi fall, felt their deaths like they were his own and heard the Force crying out at the pain and wrongness of it all; he disfigured— attempted to kill— one of the few people he had ever loved, fully and unconditionally, and felt the attempt rend him further apart in the process, and then he watched as that person twisted themself into a horrible facsimile of what they once were; he hid for twenty years on a desert planet while slowly detaching himself from his physical body so he could train and advise a child on whom he pinned nearly all his hopes; he was killed by Vader, and then watched Luke save him— save the man Obi-Wan couldn’t— and saw Vader kill Sidious, and then die. And now— now— he has finally passed on, expecting rest and peace, only to wake up in the healer’s ward of a temple that was destroyed.

Obi-Wan laughs, sharp and harsh and slightly deranged. “No,” he says, “I am not.”

“Yeah,” says a voice from next to him, “I get that.”

Obi-Wan turns to see Anakin— wait, no. Obi-Wan turns to see an unharmed Anakin— well, not quite. Obi-Wan turns to see Anakin, alive, unharmed, whole... and all of nine years old.  

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, surprised. He’d assumed that this odd make-believe healer’s ward was a result of the Path of the Whills— a journey that Anakin had decidedly not undertaken.

“Yep,” Anakin says crossing his arms. “So, this is what being dead is like? I’d assumed it would be less, uh,” he searches for the word, “medical.”

“It could be a construct,” Obi-Wan suggests, “while our consciousnesses slowly dissipate— a waystation of sorts. Of course,” he frowns, “that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Excuse me,” Mace Windu says, very on-edge, “but what exactly are you two talking about?”

“Ugh,” Anakin complains, lying back, “why is he here?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, acerbic, “I wonder why he could be here, what with that fall you gave him.”

Anakin flushes, embarrassed. “Fair point.”

“So,” Obi-Wan turns to Mace Windu, “where are we exactly?”

Windu raises an extremely suspect eyebrow. “You’re in the Healer’s Ward at the Jedi temple on Coruscant.”

“Well, yes,” Obi-Wan says, a touch exasperated, “but where are we?”

Windu frowns at him.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, “I don’t think he knows what you mean.”

Windu casts an evaluating glance at Anakin. “No, I don’t.”

Obi-Wan gives him a curious look before turning back to Anakin. “Perhaps he’s part of the construct.” He pauses. “Speaking of, why have you chosen to look like that?”

“Like what?” Anakin blinks confused.

“Like—” Obi-Wan huffs. “Does anyone have a mirror?”

“There’s one in the fresher,” Vokara Che says.

Anakin hops out of bed, and after a moment, Obi-Wan follows him to the fresher.

“Oh sweet stars and suns,” Anakin breathes, looking at his ten year old face. “I really used to look like this?”

Obi-Wan looks in the mirror as well, shocked to find that he looks as he did when he was twenty, padawan braid and all. “You know, I’m actually very glad that I’m never going to have to try to unpack the psychological implications of this,” he remarks.

Anakin snorts. “Yeah, why’d you choose to look like that?”

“I... didn’t,” Obi-Wan realizes. Before, he’d been able to change his appearance to living beings. He hadn’t for Luke, partially because Luke probably wouldn’t have taken very well to a thirty year old Obi-Wan, and partially because there wasn’t a point, given that Force ghosts didn’t get creaky knees.  

“Weird,” Anakin says.

They head out of the fresher to see that Vokara Che and Mace Windu are looking at them as if they’ve grown second heads.

“So let me unpack this,” Windu says, “you both think you’re dead.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan look at each other.

“We have reason to believe so, yes,” Obi-Wan replies, amused. “Are you going to try to convince us that we’re not?”

Windu raises one very unimpressed eyebrow. “I would think that even a padawan would be able to look into the Force to see that they’re not dead.”

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin, who shrugs. It seems that neither of them have allowed themselves to be very connected to the Force. It must be a force of habit— Obi-Wan had been careful on Tatooine to never let too much of the outside filter in, for fear of Vader finding him, and for fear that the dark currents in the Force would sweep him away. Perhaps Vader had done a similar thing.

“Shall we?” Obi-Wan suggests to Anakin. At this point, it’s likely that this is the construct telling them both that they need to connect to the Force to finally relinquish their consciousnesses.

Anakin shrugs. “Can’t make things worse, right?”

Obi-Wan snorts. “On three?”

Anakin nods.  

“One, two, three.”

Obi-Wan drops his outer shielding, letting the Force filter through.  

What he feels isn’t the ethereal, ineffable currents of the Force, calling him to drift among them as they had during his time as a Force ghost. What he feels is thousands of bright lights, sparks where there should be void, and a darkness that has surrounded everything but not yet consumed it.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan breathes. “Anakin, I’m not sure we’re dead.”

Anakin doesn’t say anything back, and Obi-Wan turns to see him crying.

“They’re alive,” Anakin whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks, face frozen in wonder and horror and guilt. “They’re all alive.”

Obi-Wan can feel them— every single one— and a lump rises in his throat. “It’s—” he starts, but he can’t finish the sentence. “We—”

Anakin nods, face still frozen. “How?”

“I—” Obi-Wan shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

“We were— you were—”

“I know.”

“And now they’re—” Anakin takes a deep breath, small body shuddering, and Obi-Wan instinctively gathers him up in his arms, holding him close.

“It’s impossible,” Obi-Wan says. “You were dead. I was dead. I felt it.”

“Luke,” Anakin chokes, “We—”

“We’re alive,” Obi-Wan says hoarsely. “The Jedi are alive— none of it has to happen.”

“Mustafar,” Anakin adds, hoarse. “Padmé.”

“The Death Star. Alderaan.” Obi-Wan says in a dark undertone. Then, louder, “I will be very cross if I get chopped in half again.”

Anakin frowns at him, momentarily distracted. “The blow didn’t hit. I should know. You have nothing to complain about.”

“I have nothing to complain about?” Obi-Wan replies, indignant. “I was on Tatooine for twenty years!”

“You cut off my arms and legs!” Anakin shouts.

Obi-Wan huffs. “Only three!”

“I was stuck in a stupid life-support suit for twenty! Fucking! Years!” Anakin retorts. “Do you know how much that sucked? I couldn’t eat real food! I fucking suffocated just because I took off my helmet to see my son in my last breaths!”

“You killed me!” Obi-Wan shouts indignantly.  

There’s a cough from beside him, and a silence as Vokara Che, Mace Windu, and several very nosy padawans stare at him.

Obi-Wan looks at them, slightly embarrassed by his outburst. “I got better.”

Anakin looks at Obi-Wan, the rage in his eyes not Vader’s, but Anakin’s, and then slowly, slowly, it dissipates.

Anakin snorts. “Fuck, we made a mess of things.”

A small, sad, smile creeps on to Obi-Wan's face. “We really did.” He sighs. “I suppose we’ll have to fix everything.”

Anakin shrugs. “Well, Sith Lords are our specialty.” He sighs. “And then I’m retiring on Naboo and learning to fish.”