#but as long as we get out on the other side feeling a little lighter it is all fine

[hel7l7]

No one ever said that it was gonna be easy

[augustinewrites]

“what’s on these?” megumi asks, holding up a box of memory cards.

cleaning day always unearthed all types of lost and forgotten items. sometimes it was clothes long forgotten in you and gojo’s closet, other times it was the kid’s old books or toys. you knew every inch of your little apartment, so most times you could identify any mystery items that came up.

“i don’t know,” you hum, plucking a card from the box to inspect it a little more closely. the only hint as to what’s actually on it seems to just be a date.

2006

…and it’s in gojo’s handwriting.

curious, you pop one into the video player and turn on the tv. the kids join you on the couch, clearly eager to entertain any distraction from your cleaning crusade.

when the screen flickers to life, a familiar courtyard comes into view.

you can’t help the gasp when haibara comes into focus…but then you see satoru standing standing across from him, arms spread out.

“who is that?” megumi asks, pointing at haibara.

you think of the bright smile of the boy still lingering in the edges of your memory and tell him, softly, “an old friend.”

“suguru!” gojo shouts, looking towards the person holding the camera. he’s all messy hair and wide smiles, exactly how you remember him in his youth. “make sure you get this one!”

geto grumbles about how he’s paying attention, and suddenly you remember exactly what this is.

“ah, these are from when yaga would make us record ourselves practicing cursed technique application,” you explain as a haibara lines up a shot with a pencil.

the pencil hits gojo in the face, gifting him a small cut on his cheek. “ah, shit!”

behind the camera you can hear nanami and geto laughing as haibara apologizes profusely, and shoko comes over to practice her healing. you come over too, holding a cloth.

“don’t pout,” your younger self says, reaching up to wipe a thin trail of blood from his cheek. “you’ll get it next time.”

as soon you turn away, you hear geto snicker and the camera suddenly zooms in on gojo’s face.

he’s blushing.

“ugh,” you hear him groan behind the three of you, finally finished cleaning the bathroom. “are we done cleaning yet?”

“we’re taking a break!” tsumiki tells him, as megumi pops another card in.

gojo ignores megumi’s protests, stealing the spot on the couch next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders with a smirk. “move your feet, lose your seat.”

tsumiki, angel that she is, moves over so her brother can sit on your other side as the video starts.

this time, gojo is the one recording, holding the camera out so it’s pointed at his own smiling face. “haibara versus nanami, round one!”

you feel your boyfriend stiffen beside you, looking over to see an odd look on his face. “oh, fuck—”

“jar,” megumi says flatly.

he glares at the kid, and is about to get up when you stop him. “wait! i want to watch this!”

he slumps back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he groans dramatically. ignoring him, you watch the fight play out, which ends with haibara whining whilst in a headlock.

you hear geto’s murmured commentary off camera as nanami releases his classmate, expecting the video to zoom in on the victor.

but it drifts a little to the left, where you’re laughing with shoko on the sidelines.

“so obvious,” geto scoffs. the video wobbles for a moment before being pointed directly at the tips of satoru’s shoes, then ends abruptly.

when you glance over at satoru, he’s pulled his sunglasses over his eyes as if they can hide his pink cheeks.

the next videos are similar. memories of your past viewed through a different lens, showing you things you’d never picked up on when you were living them.

some moments you watch with an aching heart. like when suguru leans close to you and makes a joke at satoru’s expense, or when you reach up to ruffle haibara’s hair.

(moments with cherished friends proving that the grief of losing them never got any lighter as you moved forward with your life, but at some point you’d just gotten used to carrying the weight.)

but what might be most interesting is seeing yourself in satoru’s eyes.

his focus, whether he was the one holding the camera or not, always seemed to drift to you. for all the times he’d denied crushing on you in your early years, the camera proves otherwise.

the way he peeks at you shyly as you fix your hair before a fight.

the way he reaches out instinctively whenever you’re knocked backwards.

the way he smiles brightly whenever you laugh at one of his jokes.

the way your gaze would occasionally meet his, and his smile seemed to come naturally.

“okay, that’s enough for tonight,” satoru announces, shutting the tv off and shooing the children away. “go clean your rooms, you freeloaders.”

you stand, looping your arms around his neck before he can run away. smiling, you gently pull his glasses off, tossing them onto the couch.

“hey! those are gucci—”

you shut him up with a kiss, feeling the way his lips curve upwards against yours. “i love you, you know that?”

blue eyes meet yours, the pensive look he’d been wearing melting into something a little softer. something reserved for you. “you’re obsessed with me, i know.”

you simply laugh, letting him dip down to give you another kiss.

(because you’d had his heart in your pocket long before either of you had realized.)

[inkdrinkerworld]

I saw you're looking for more post prison spencer and sunshine reader!

What about sunshine reader having a badass moment and save spencer from an unsub? Spence would definitely be worried but amazed at the same time

Only if you want to write it haha thanks! I love your writing always ❤️ 💕

cw: mentions of episode '300' and Spencer and Garcia being taken by the cult. Spencer suffers from a busted lip, broken nose and being in love, so does the reader :)

You were cold with worry and anger. They’d taken Spencer and Penelope from right under your nose. You were gone twenty minutes and the entire BAU is shut down and ripped open because they’re gone. 

Then Penelope came back, disheveled and shaking and you were seeing red. “We’ll find him, Penny.” You whisper to her as you strap your kevlar vest on and set your guns to your hips and boot. 

“Be safe.” She says, gaze wild as Tara ushers her to a seat and you all begin filing out to an SUV. 

When you get to the field, you can hear Spencer talking but you’re not focused on that. 

Emily would have you sit down in her office after this is all over to tell you that you were militant and that you probably hadn’t done everything by the book, but you don’t care. 

You take down two of the guards Ben’s believers have hovering the entrances, and you wait till you catch Spencer’s eyes before breathing out slowly. 

Emily and Matt cover your sides as you sneak around to the back of their altar. 

You’re moving outside of your body, your mind just focused on freeing Spencer and getting to him safely. You just feel your body, using your training to knock them out rather than shoot at them. 

“FBI,” JJ announces and then the gunfire ensues. 

You’re aware of taking down two more members of the believers who try aiming their guns at you and Spencer before Emily, Luke and Tara are barking orders. 

“Hands where we can see them. Everybody on the ground!” Your ears feel stuffed with cotton, all you can see is Spencer; his face bruised and his nose looking a little more crooked than it usually is. 

You cut Spencer free of the rope, arms around his neck as you hold him close. 

“They burst your lip.” Your hands bury themselves in his hair, holding his face close to your shoulder. 

“I’m okay,” he whispers back. Eyes closed and breathing you in. “How’s Penelope?” 

You sigh, “She’s okay, a little shaken up but I’m gonna call her. Let her know we saved you.” 

He breathes a laugh through his nose, pulling away and finding you more worried than he’d expected. 

“It’s not the first time I’ve been with them.” You know Spencer’s trying to make this situation seem lighter but your frown worsens. 

“Spencer, that is not the comforting thought you think it is.” 

He laughs outright this time, walking with you back to the SUV. You call Penelope as soon as you’re back in the car. 

“Hey Pen, we got him and we’re on our way back to you.” She breathes a long sigh over the phone. 

“I’m okay Garcia, thank you for helping save me.” 

The phone call doesn’t last much longer, and you use the time to just stare at Spencer as you sit next to each other in the back. 

“They broke your nose. And you’re going to mottle on your pretty cheekbones.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes. “I set it already, plus the bruising can be helped if I ice.” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, your hands hovering near Spencer’s face. He leans into your hand and you smile, your thumb grazing his bottom lip and your index finger brushing his nose. 

“You should take martial arts classes,” you say softly. 

“I don’t like cardio, not that type anyway.” He says the last part so quietly you almost miss it, but you choke on your gasp all the same. 

“It would help stop all these abductions. You could disarm your attacker much easier if you did,” 

“Jiu jitsu, I know. It’s too coordinated and I’m too clunky at that sort of stuff.” 

Your eyes glint with mischief as you pull away your hands from his face. “But you’re good at other types of cardio?” 

He smiles, his dimples popping out making you want to poke his cheek. 

“How’re you feeling? No shaking with the adrenaline comedown?” Spencer deviates from your loaded question with one of his own. His eyes scan your entire body, focusing on your eyes and your hands. 

“I’m just tired now, Spence. Kicking ass is tough. Is the adrenaline supposed to do that?” He nods, you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, you can sleep but I think it might be better to stay awake so you can do your reports once we get to Quantico.” Spencer knows how anal you are about doing your reports right after wrapping a case when the memories and details are fresh and unstained by how you wish things went. 

“No, I can do it. I won’t forget it if I sleep,” you yawn. “Plus, I could feel your eyes on me the entire time so you can look it over to make sure I didn’t miss any details.” 

Spencer laughs, Emily and Luke filing into the SUV as he strokes your arm, lulling you closer to sleep. 

“You’re ridiculous, but I’ll look it over for you, sweet girl. Get some sleep.” 

Emily cuts Spencer a look from the rear-view mirror that has his cheeks flushing but he ignores it in favor of setting his cheek to your head and closing his eyes as well; the smell of you flooding his senses as he starts dozing off.

[ironambivalence]

You wake up, chained to a urinal, unable to close your arms and legs. Helpless and starting to shake before it’s even begun. Hearing the murmuring outside the stall grow louder with men’s voices and harsh laugher. Apprehension growing as your stomach feels tight, trying not to vomit even as you start to panic. Feeling so helpless and exposed. Completely naked and desperate. The sounds growing louder, and then…

The door bursts open and the first one steps forward. He won the lottery today and is going to take a little more time than usual. He strokes your cheek softly, then takes a handful of your hair hard by the roots and slaps your face viciously, leaving a red handprint on your pale skin that will become a nasty bruise. Your head jerks down just in time to see his cock exposed, before he thrusts into you, unceremoniously, like meat. Just fuckmeat. Just holes. He starts pumping faster. Not even looking at you. Staring at the wall ahead as he rapes you. Your cunt stretched and aching as you’re forced to take it. Tensing as he empties his balls in your cunt, a stranger’s sperm splattered against your bruised cervix. He doesn’t even look at you when he pulls out. You’re just a warm hole. And it’s time for the next…

One by one they filter in, claiming your ass, your cunt, your mouth. Leaving their filth splattered across you. Raping you until your holes are unrecognizably swollen. The sheer volume of cum astounding. It drips down your face and tits. It drips from your used holes. You’re filthy in a way you can barely comprehend. It coats every inch of you. The smell makes you gag. It drips into a puddle beneath you. You’re disgusting. It’s long since coated the bruises others have left, marring your body, and the men are reluctant to touch you now, so richly coated, save for your holes, which they still pump themselves into. They find other ways to hurt you: lit cigarettes, glowing metal lighters, a wire whip. Your mind is going, fading into the pain. The chains unnecessary. You couldn’t stand even if you wanted to…

And they begin to compete. The first one to piss in your face is greeted with a round of applause. The money is usually left by the door, but one shoves his dollar bills up your cunt. Someone in the crowd has brought a taser…

It’s hours and you’re more unconscious then not by the end. Limp body swaying with each thrust as your raped fuckholes are destroyed a little more each time. By the time I hose you off, the cold jet of water washing their filth down the drain, the nozzle shoved inside your holes so you scream, you have no strength left. I unchain you, swinging you up over my shoulder like a sack, angry red cunt exposed as your arms and legs hang limp, and toss you into the trunk of my car.

When we get back to the safe house I toss you down onto the filthy mattress and explain: It’s still Friday night. You have the weekend to recover. I want you in the office on Monday as usual, carving your mind up in pieces as you try to pretend everything is normal. Otherwise, you won’t be alone in that bathroom stall next weekend. I’ll make sure you’re have someone you love, right there by your side.

[astarion-approves]

Hello! So hopefully this isn't too similar to stuff you've done previously if it is feel free to skip, but may I perchance request a wee drabble of soft astarion caring for a particularly vulnerable tav after he takes maybe a bit too much blood. Like, tav is all pale and cold, tremble-y and dazed- maybe a wee bit delirious or confused, ya know blood loss things. (Someone needs to be making sure Tav is getting some juice or something after all the blood they're giving to astarion and losing in battle) thank you!!! I love your work! You're doing a great service for the astarion lovers <3

Astarion x GN! Tav

A poor bloodless Tav is just a bit out of it.

Tags: Gn! Tav/reader, OOC Astarion, confessions, hand feeding, 850+ words, short and sweet

Read below or on AO3

------------

“Astarion.” Shadowheart approached him, waking him from his daytime nap, her lips pressed together and a glare already prepared before she even reached his tent. “Have you noticed something wrong with Tav?” 

“Hm?” Astarion blinked up at her, his arms resting behind his back and not bothering to move as she stared down at him. “No, why?” 

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side, gesturing for Astarion to look in that direction. Astarion sighed and sat up in his bedroll, glancing to where Tav stood. 

They held a single kiwi in front of their face, their eyes narrowed as they stared at the fuzzy fruit. 

Astarion blinked as he watched them. “Shadowheart, for just how long have they been standing there like that?” 

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Long enough for me to notice?” 

“By the Hells,” Astarion cursed and stood up, jogging past Shadowheart and making his way to Tav. 

They didn’t even notice him approach, their staring competition with the kiwi still on going. 

“Tav,” Astarion gently grabbed their shoulder, earning a gasp from Tav and the thud of the kiwi as it fell to the ground. 

“Shit,” they said with a frown. “I was going to eat that.” 

“I didn’t mean to startle you—“

“Do you wanna share it?” 

Astarion looked down to where the kiwi laid at Tav’s feet, it landed directly into a muddy puddle. “I’m not sure you should still eat that, darling.” 

“Damn,” Tav replied and sighed. They turned to walk away, bumping into Astarion’s shoulder and nearly falling to the ground. 

Astarion reached out quickly and caught them, holding Tav in his arms, surprised by how little strength they had. They trembled in his arms, their skin a few shades lighter than it normally was—

“Tav, did you eat anything after I fed from you last night—?”

“Yes! Actually… No… I’m not sure?” 

Astarion clicked his tongue at Tav, letting out a quick sigh before scooping them up and into his arms completely. They both said nothing as Astarion carried them to his tent, the human opting to snuggle their head into his chest as he carried them. 

He carefully lowered them into the makeshift bed, Tav smiling up at Astarion and attempting to pull him down and into the bed with them. 

“Ah, ah, ah, not quite yet, my dear. We need to get you a little snack.” 

“I’m your little snack.” 

“Yes, you are. My cute little snack.” Astarion chuckled as he left the tent in search of some food. It was rare that Tav would forget to eat something after one of their feedings, the human insisting on being awake for it these days as they claimed they enjoyed the intimacy. Not that Astarion disliked that, in fact it made his bite much more enjoyable knowing that Tav was there and happy to share their blood with him. Amongst other things…

Soon Astarion returned with clean fruit in hand, cut strawberries and a few blueberries prepared and resting in a bowl for his companion to enjoy. “Here,” he said and held a strawberry to Tav’s lips. “Eat this.” 

“I wanted a kiwi.” 

Astarion smiled and ran his free hand through Tav’s hair before pausing and carefully easing their head up and into his lap. “I’ll make sure to get you more kiwis later. For now, please eat.” 

Tav pouted, but allowed Astarion to feed them the berry. 

“My apologies, Tav. I must have taken more blood from you than usual. I didn’t notice how you were feeling.” 

“Don’t be. Maybe I just like when you hand feed me.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes and pressed a blueberry against their lips next. “Then I will gladly feed you fruit every day. It’s the least I could do.” 

“I love you.” 

Astarion froze, a slice of strawberry halfway in Tav’s mouth as they gazed up at him with tired eyes. “Tav—“

They pushed the berry to the side of their mouth with their tongue, only struggling slightly as they quickly chewed it and swallowed it down. “I know you’re not there yet, that you might not ever be there, and I know I probably look like shit right now—“

“Never—“

“But I love you, and I’m always willing to feel faint for a little bit if it means making you happy.” 

“Tav,” Astarion placed the bowl to the side. “What would ever make you think that I don’t love you?” 

Tav’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Do you have any idea how much I adore you?” Astarion laughed. “I don’t need your blood. Of course.. I do rather enjoy it, but I don’t need it.”

“But—“

“Could you honestly see me hand feeding fruit to Lae’zel because she gave me a little blood?” 

Tav snorted. “No.” 

“Of course not, my dear. Only you.” Astarion lowered himself, kissing Tav softly, briefly swiping his tongue over their berry flavored lips before pulling back with a smile. 

“So… does this mean we’re dating?” 

“I would certainly hope so. What other vampire spawn is going to feed you strawberries? You won’t find another like me.” 

[imliterallyellie]

is this thing on? 🎤

sleeping with jackson!ellie

would definitely assume the position of big spoon. she loves having you close to her, your back pressed against her chest and her hand teasing little circles into your stomach until you have to push her hand away because it tickles too much. loves placing featherlight kisses on the back of your head or inhaling your scent that reminds her so much of home and comfort, especially after a long day of outside work

and although she would never admit it, she loves being little spoon every now and again. she has a very strong protective feeling over you so she usually prefers to have you safe in her arms. but when she comes back from a draining couple days of patrol, she loves nothing more than to be held and soak up the warmth you can give her by enveloping her body with your loving arms

i definitely think she has trouble sleeping. she goes to bed late and wakes up early so she's always sleepy, but i can imagine she has frequent nightmares too. you would wake up to hearing her panting, trying her hardest to get her breathing under control so she wouldn't wake you up but it would be too late

it would be a routine by now. you would lay on top of her to try and ground her, remind her where she is, that she's still here and that she is okay. then you would ask if she wants to speak about it. you would either talk until the early hours of the morning or she would refuse, and all you could do was just hold her, hold her until her body and mind had eased enough for her body to be able to fall back into a slumber

sleeping in was never really her thing, but on the rare occasions that you did get her to stay in bed with you until you got up, you reveled in it. rather than waking up to an empty other side of the bed, you would turn around and be face to face with your girlfriend, catching her staring at you. would softly whisper "morning mama" while tucking some hair behind your ear or kissing the tip of your nose

ellie usually sleeps in boxers. unless it's really cold, then she loves wearing fuzzy pjs and draping many blankets over you both, but she opts for lighter sleepwear usually. especially because she loves the feeling of your bare legs entangled

she's a blanket hogger. like 100%. you would wake up in the middle of the night, mind still foggy having just woken from your slumber but when the cold jackson breeze hits your bare thighs you shiver, and it's then that you realize that ellie has wrapped herself up like a burrito in your blanket. you have to tug like there's no tomorrow to get her out of there and get yourself some warmth back, and she would absolutely deny it the morning after

pic: twilightness/pinterest (we are respectful in this house and we credit creators)

i can imagine her looking at you like this when you're telling her about her blanket hogging shenanigans the day after while she's trying her hardest to deny

[moonstruckme]

This with player!sirius black

Hi! I assume you meant Sirius was the one sending the first text? So I hope this is okay :)

cw: alcohol, vomit mention (no description)

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 980 words

You stumble out onto the street and right into a pair of tattooed, surprisingly strong arms. 

“Fuck,” two voices say at the same time. One is yours, and the other…you look up, and a piece of dark velvety hair brushes your cheek as you meet slightly widened gray eyes. 

“Sirius.” His name comes out nearly without vowels, all strung together like one long s. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He hoists you up a bit in his arms so you’re more on your feet. You don’t use them, though, content to let your weight rest on him for the moment. “You texted me to come.” 

You feel your face screw up. “I did?” 

Sirius’ mouth does that thing. He always looks like he has a little smile tucked in the corner, kept secret for now but constantly ready for deployment. It twitches. He grips you tighter against him, freeing one hand to dig in his pocket. 

“See?” 

You recoil from the bright light of his screen, squinting to read the messages. It takes all of your concentration, and by the time you muddle through it Sirius is looking down at you with a funny mix of humor and concern. 

“Oh,” you say. “I forgot.” The corner of Sirius’ mouth kicks up. “I didn’t expect you to come, though.” 

You start to slip down his front, and he heaves you up again with a grunt. “Yeah, well my night had started to wind down,” he says, in that disaffected way of his. It doesn’t bother you like it usually does; you’re too busy thinking about how out of all the things he could’ve done tonight, he came to you. “Figured I’d see what you were up to. Where were you running off to when I got here, huh?” 

You have to think for a bit. Then it comes to you, and you swallow thickly. “I came out here to be sick,” you admit. 

Sirius’ eyes widen and for a second you think he’s going to step away from you, but he doesn’t. “Yeah? You need to find a bin?” 

You shake your head, swallowing again. “No, this is good.” You stumble away from him, bending over the gutter at the side of the street. 

The club’s bouncer shouts. You hear Sirius say something back to him, and then his hands are in your hair, moving it away from your face. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, securing it with a hair tie. “You alright?” 

You spit, blinking tears from your eyes. “Mhm. M’fine.” 

“You wanna go home?” 

You turn your head to see him, vision smearing. “You wanna take me home?” 

Some of that smile deploys, just a hint. It’s enough to make you dizzy. “Maybe just in the literal sense tonight, doll. Though I’ll be happy to take you up on that another time.” 

You harumph, setting your bum on the curb. Or falling onto it, same thing. “Can we go in a minute?” 

“Sure.” 

Sirius sits beside you, pulling a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. You watch him cup a hand to light it, inhaling quickly before blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth. He sets one hand on the pavement and leans back on it. The cigarette glows magma red between his lips. 

“Why did you come?” 

He shrugs, watching traffic pass on the street. “Like I said, my night was winding down. I thought you might be a good time.” 

You press your lips together. The smell of vomit is still sharp in your nostrils. “And I disappointed you.” 

“Not necessarily.” He exhales smoke, hair gleaming red under the neon sign of the club. “Where are your friends?” 

“Inside.” 

“Think they’re worried about you?” 

“When I left they were…distracted.” You smile wryly. You think you catch Sirius watching you out of the corner of his eye. “S’how nights out go, you know? Anyway, they’re used to me leaving early.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius’ voice is disinterested, like he’s just keeping up his end of small talk at a family gathering. “Why’s that?” 

You shrug, laying back on the sidewalk. Whatever’s getting in your hair is tomorrow’s problem. “I’m a lightweight.” 

He looks down at you, humming as he brings the cigarette to his lips again. “You’re a walking red flag, aren’t you?” 

You roll your head to the side. Grin up at him playfully. “And what about it?”

Sirius shrugs. “Nothing,” he says. “It’s hot.” He exhales a long stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air. “My friend says I always like things that are bad for me the best.” 

You’re not quite done wrapping your head around that when he stubs out the cigarette and slips a hand beneath your neck. “C’mon, this is no place for a nap.” 

He gets you sitting up, then stands, taking your hands to bring you up there with him. You start out on the half of the sidewalk closer to the curb, but Sirius steps around you, hand skimming across the small of your back as he takes your place. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Your place.” 

You start to drift away, and Sirius gives your waist a slight tug. It’s the tiniest bit of pressure, but you stumble closer like he’s yanked you towards him. You may be swooning. 

“I can get home on my own,” you tell him. “I have a great sense of direction, I do it all the time.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says simply. 

And well, you don’t if he doesn’t. For a while you walk in silence, Sirius guiding you with his hand at the small of your back, not seeming to care that you called him out here for nothing or that you smell like vomit or that you keep stumbling in your heels. 

“Sirius?” you ask after a while. 

“Hm?” 

“Do you think I’m bad for you?” 

He’s quiet for a second. “I haven’t decided yet, doll. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

[niallsgoldhoop]

CHANNING

a harry styles one shot seven thousand words cw - sexual content, alcohol, harsh language, spitting, spanking, choking,

“I can’t believe you almost missed this.” Looking over at me, the dark eyes of my closest friend shine under the overhead lights. “I mean, come on— It’s Harryween.”

Using my pinky to perfect the edge of the color as I look in the mirror, I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Okay well I couldn’t let this costume go to waste.”

“Honestly.” Adjusting the straps of her angel wings, she laughs. “It’s perfect.”

Tucking a lock of wavy copper hair behind my ear, the green foliage sewed to the leather top last minute contrasts against my porcelain skin in the best way.

As soon as the decision was made— the costume just happens to fall into place.

It took me less than a day to buy the ivy from a local craft store along with the needle and thread. Deep in the back of my closet there was a black leather corset, the kind that fastened in a line of delicate hooks up the front, one that pushed my breasts up even higher than normal. Pairing that with the black leather skirt that hit the middle of my thighs seemed like the only option that made sense.

Less than two hours sitting on my couch and watching Succession later and all of the ivy had been sewn into place. After a little maneuvering I even managed to turn the broad, verdant colored leaves to a makeshift garter for each of my thighs.

Standing here in this bathroom and looking at my reflection, the extra ivy twisting from the top of the high topped canvas sneakers on my feet, I can’t help but smile at how good it looks snaking over my toned calves and thick thighs.

Poison Ivy.

“We better get down to the pit before it gets too crazy.” With a wide smile on her face, I laugh along with her as her fingers tangle with mine, pulling me along. “If we’re lucky we can get close to the barricade.”

Staying close behind her, the two of us manage to squeeze through the sea of people, finding a spot in the pit good enough that we would be able to get a decent view.

I’d been to plenty of shows before but it felt like nothing compared to the pit at a Harry Styles show.

Even as the show eventually starts, it’s clear that everyone got the memo to dress up and seeing the man of the hour— I’m so glad this is where I ended up.

The way he looks tonight should be illegal.

The way he’s looking at me?

Criminal.

Up on the stage, I make eye contact with him again as he passes by, my body heating under his gaze for what feels like the millionth time.

“God, he keeps looking at you!” The girl with two boas and a pink cowboy hat next to me says, her eyes wide. “What the fuck?!”

I feel my lips as they turn into a smirk, raising my eyes back to the stage to see him in front of me again.

Being so close to the barricade was an accident. Somehow, someway we managed to make out way closer and closer as the night went on. Dancing with everyone around us all night has been the best part of the show.

Well… That and seeing Harry dressed in the most delicate and detailed costume.

A clown with the prettiest cream fabrics and lace along with the most perfect moon and stars offsetting the lighter colors with their darkness. Even his cheeks have the rosiest hue— complete with little pearl drops along his cheeks and above his brows.

Nothing too scary, but something just sexy enough.

As he plays the song everyone longs to hear, this time when lyrics roll off of his heart shaped lips in front of me, there’s no mistaking it.

‘And when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you —‘

Eyes set on mine, he brings the tip of each finger to his flattened tongue, a tease of how he would certainly be able to please between the sheets.

Rolling my eyes as my best friend grabs my arm, her fingers pressing into the bare skin of my bicep, I find his gaze lingering before he moves on — deciding to entertain the other side of his stage before making his exit.

It feels like the scene of a documentary as the end of the show finally unfolds and people make their way from the stadium, a mass of people all looking for something to get them as high as the feeling Harry Styles gives them.

Laughing on the way out, I give the longest hugs that I can manage before slipping out into the night to find the small bar that has always welcomed me on a night like tonight.

A night when I’m not ready to dream quite yet.

Between the way the city never sleeps and the people out for their own version of tricks and treats, it feels like hours before I find what I’m looking for even if it’s not terribly far away from where I started.

Still dressed in the costume I threw together at the last minute, I don’t even find myself caring much about that. People from all across the city are dressed in various Halloween get ups— making it that much easier to blend in.

Even if the majority of my skin feels like it’s on display.

Smiling as I grip the door handle, it’s the large hand that covers mine that makes my heart race.

The anchor tattoo.

The mermaid.

The cross.

Turning on my heel, the same eyes that looked into mine in front of thirty thousand people trace over my face — over my freckles, over my cheekbones… Over my lips.

“It’s you.” Low and raspy, the accent drips off his lips as they turn into a sinister grin.

Rolling my tongue along the inside of my cheek, I watch his eyes follow the movement as I press through the door and let him follow.

“It’s me.”

The bar is small and dimly lit, the best place to come if you don’t want to be found.

I’ve come here for years, a product of begging to be lost.

Turning my back on him, I make my way to the bar and sit on one of the stools, smiling as the bartender makes his way down to me. I can feel Harry’s presence as he slides onto the stool next to me, his thigh brushing against the skin of my thigh that my skirt doesn’t cover.

“Hey, babe.” Leaning over the bar and kissing my cheek, the familiar face behind the bar places a shot glass on the counter before filling it with tequila and placing a lime along the rim, sliding it to me. “How was your night?”

My face turns towards the man next to me, his features sharper in the low light as he studies me carefully before I look away from him with a shrug. “It was okay.”

A laugh falls from his lips as he leans into me, his lips brushing against my ear. “Okay? Is that all you have to say about me?”

“Maybe it is.” My shoulders lift in a shrug as I turn to face him, reaching for the shot and taking it, watching Harry as his eyes focus on my lips where I taste the lime. “Why? Are your feelings hurt?”

Catching the attention of the person behind the bar, those mossy eyes hold mine as he orders. “Can I please have four shots of tequila?”

“You alright with this guy, Chan?” Looking between the two of us, his eyes narrow in Harry’s direction.

I laugh. “We’re good. You can pull your best friend shit somewhere else.”

Rolling his eyes, he pours the shots out for the two of us. Leaving a small bowl of salt and limes before making his back to the other end of the bar.

“Chan?” Harry’s voice is rich and smooth, just like you always hear about. “Is that short for Chandler?”

I shake my head as I bring my hand up and flatten my tongue before running it across the back of my hand, eyes locked on his. “No, it’s not.”

“Are you going to tell me?” Watching my every move, his green eyes watch as I pinch salt between my fingers and let it fall to my skin.

“Should I?” Once again, I flatten my tongue across the same spot and taste the salt before picking up the small glass of liquor, tipping it back and letting it burn down my throat. “What’s in it for me if I do?”

Tension unlike I’ve ever known settled between us.

Somewhere my brain tells me to be careful, but the reckless part of me says that sometimes things are just meant to happen.

The odds of running into a man like him are practically zero. Yet here I am with flushed skin from the warmth of his proximity.

I reach for the lime but Harry beats me to it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and pressing the acidic fruit to my bottom lip, eyes begging for me to open for him.

“Suck.”

Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I flick my tongue across the broad side of the lime before wrapping my lips around it and following the simple instructions.

“So you do know how to listen.” Harry pulls his hand away from me before dropping the fruit back into the empty shot glass.

Tilting my head back, I laugh.

Pressing my hand on his thigh and leaning forward, this time my lips brush against his ear. “I only listen when I feel like it.”

“Hmm.” He hums as he leans back, eyes looking over my body. “Do you feel like listening tonight?”

I shake my head as he reaches for my hand and pulls me in close, his eyes burning through me as his tongue darts out and presses to my skin along my forearm. Holding me in place and using his other hand, he easily sprinkles the salt along my heated skin before flattening his tongue and tasting it.

My breath hitches in my throat as his fingers tip the glass back, taking the lime and holding it out for me. Taking the hint, I bite onto it and lean towards him letting him take it from me with a smug grin on his face. His lips brush against mine for only a moment before he leans away from me, sucking the juice out of the fruit to chase the bitter taste of the liquor. “Come on, tell me your name.”

“I’ll tell you on one condition.” Squeezing his thigh, I brush my lips against the base of his throat, smiling when I feel him swallow thickly.

“And what’s that?” Gripping my chin, Harry tilts my head backwards and grins at me, his notorious bunny teeth biting into his bottom lip.

I roll my tongue along my bottom lip, watching as his eyes drop to my mouth. “You keep staring at my lips like you want them to do something.”

“Yeah?” His grip on my chin tightens. “What if I want to put them to work?”

I lick my bottom lip as my breathing shallows, giving Harry the opportunity to press his thumb into the small bowl of salt and brush it along my bottom lip. “I’d say you talk a lot for someone who hasn’t made a move yet.”

Harry’s eyes darken as he leans in, flicking his tongue along my bottom lip and tasting the salt. Reaching for one of the last two shots that he ordered, I watch as he pours the liquid into his mouth before using his thumb to pull on my bottom lip in a silent request.

Running my tongue along my lower lip and opening my mouth for him, I can’t even be bothered to be surrounded by other people or the sound that comes from the back of my mouth when he spits the liquor onto my waiting tongue.

Grabbing the lime and holding it against the skin of my throat, I’m almost embarrassed by the whimper that falls from my lips when he squeezes the wedge and his warm tongue catches the juice as it rolls down the column of my throat as I swallow.

“That’s right… Swallow for me, pretty girl.”

I can barely register his words before his lips are on mine and I can taste the flavor on his tongue as it finds mine, one of his hands sliding back into the waves at the nape of my neck and the other slipping just under the hem of my skirt and past the dark leaves of my costume.

He kisses me hard and with no abandon, as if he wants nothing more than to devour me. Leaning closer to him and hooking my finger into the waistband of his pants, I moan lightly when his teeth drag across my bottom lip.

“I need to get you alone.” He mumbles, his hand sliding along the inside of my thigh as his fingertips dance across my skin. “Need you on your knees while I watch those lips wrap around me.

I gasp when he drops his lips to my neck, nipping and sucking my skin. “There’s a private bathroom in the office— fuck, down the hall.”

Leaving the last shot, Harry takes my hand and pulls me towards the hallway that leads us in the right direction. With his arms wrapping around my body from behind, once we stop just long enough for me to punch in the code for the keypad I can feel him hard and ready behind me.

“If you don’t hurry, I’m going to take you right fucking here.” Nipping my earlobe, Harry plays with the hem of my skirt as his hand grips my throat and turns my head to the side, giving him more access. “How many ways are you going to let me fuck you, pretty girl?”

“Fuck.” Punching the last number into the keypad, when it beeps twice and I turn the handle, it opens easily.

We barely make it into the room and slam the door before Harry turns on me, pressing my body into the door and pressing his thigh between my legs, pinning me in place.

His mouth is on mine in a messy and hungry kiss all while his hands take their time exploring my body. From my breasts to my ass, not one place goes unnoticed by his skilled hands.

“This fucking costume.” Bringing the skin at the base of my throat between his teeth only to soothe it with his tongue, I shiver when he drags his finger along the top of the ivy, digging behind it enough to trace my skin. “People think that it’s so bright on stage and that I can’t see, but I do — I fucking see everything.”

Kissing under my jaw, his hands work the hooks that line the front of the top, one by one. “Tell me what you saw, Harry.

“You want to know?” Dragging his tongue across the swell of my breasts, I reach up and run my nails across his scalp, making him moan. “I saw you, dressed in this—“ Releasing the last button and letting the top of the corset fall to the floor, Harry cups both of my breasts and squeezes them, pinching each nipple at the same time. “I watched you dance, seeing your perfect ass sway from side to side like you didn’t give a single fuck that I was on that stage.”

Dropping down, Harry runs his tongue across the sensitive peak a moment before taking it between his teeth, pulling back enough to make me gasp. “I didn’t— I was more of a Niall girl—”

“Beautiful and bratty, huh?” His fingers find my throat as I smile, pressing into my skin just enough that my lips part on an exhale from the rush. “The only name that's going to come off your lips tonight is mine.”

“You seem so—.” My thoughts all but disappear when I feel Harry reach down and slip his hand under the tight material of my skirt after tracing the edge of the garter along my thighs.

Taking my nipple back into his mouth and teasing, he pulls back to look at me as his knuckle presses into my clit over the fabric of my underwear. “I seem so what, Chan? You won’t even tell me your name yet here you are — dripping down the inside of your thighs for me.”

“So full of yourself.” I finally get out. “Maybe you really are an arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

Pushing the fabric aside, Harry doesn’t even pace himself, sliding two fingers deep inside of me and making me cry out as his thumb circles my clit with so much pressure it borders pain. “You have no fucking idea.”

“Harry—“ I moan.

Curling his fingers, I feel like my body is on overdrive as he works an orgasm out of my body quicker than even I’ve been able to do it. . “Come on my fingers for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

Reaching out and gripping his shoulders, I can see the dark evergreen of his eyes just on the rim of his blown out pupils under the lights as his breath comes out shallow, the muscles under his skin flexing as he works me even harder through my orgasm.

Once my body loses all of the tension I tip forward into Harry’s arms with a laugh. “Jesus.”

“Yeah? That good?” He smirks as he wraps my hair around his fist. Once, twice. “Chan, I need to ask you something.”

I nod, my eyes the only things he’s focused on. “Now you want to ask questions?”

“I’m serious.” His nose brushes mine before he places a soft kiss to my lips, a complete contrast to the way he just coaxed a release from my body. “I need to know that if you don’t like something or you want me to stop that you’ll tell me, okay?”

I nod, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, taking my time to enjoy the way his tongue feels moving with mine. “I promise.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes burn into my features looking for any sign of hesitance.

“I’m sure.” Getting impatient, I nip his bottom lip. “Now, are you going to fuck me or stand here and be a gentleman all night? Which one is it?”

“Such a fucking mouth on you.” Flexing his hand in my hair and pulling tighter, there’s no option but for me to sink to my knees as Harry guides me. “I hope you know how to use it for more than just your attitude.”

Sitting back on my heels, I lick my lips. “Only one way to find out.”

“Go on then.” Nodding towards his straining cock beneath the fabric of his pants, he waits for me to undo the button. “Let me watch you choke on my cock so that you can’t talk back to me.”

When my hands finally free him, I whimper at the same time Harry’s groan fills the small office. Leaking with precome, I flick the tip of my tongue to collect the pearly drops.

“Pinch my thigh if it gets to be too much, yeah?” Using his hand that doesn’t still have my hair wrapped around his fist, he cups my jaw and runs his thumb across my cheek as I nod. “Be a good girl and open your mouth for me.”

Taking Harry into my mouth, I wish I could take a picture of how he looks from this angle. His head tilts back as a moan curves around his lips, I swear to god I’ve never seen anything sexier in my entire life. Pushing his hips forward slowly, I hollow my cheeks as I use my tongue to feel every single ridge and vein he has to offer me. My hands rest on his thighs as he drops his head down and meets my gaze.

“I’m going to go harder, is that okay?” With his cock still in my mouth, I nod. “Good fucking girl, good girl.”

Harry pushes his thighs even deeper, groaning at the feeling of his cock sliding down the back of my throat and making the muscles constrict around him from the intrusion. It feels like so much pressure and not enough at the same time as he repeats the action. Tears form in my waterline as I choke over and over, the tears spilling out onto my cheeks.

“See how good you're taking my cock down your pretty little throat?” Sliding his hand from my cheek, I moan around him as his hand rests across my throat. “Fuck, are you going to swallow for me?”

I choke once more, nodding.

“Good.”

It’s one word that precedes his release, one that I make good on my promise and swallow every drop of.

Once Harry pulls back, I take a deep breath and look up to him for only a moment before he pulls me to my feet and spins us around. Lifting me up and sitting me onto the desk, stepping between my legs and tracing his fingers over the edges of the ivy still wrapped around me.

Instantly his lips are on mine, groaning at his own tastes as he reaches between my legs and pushes the material of the leather skirt up, his fingers finding the sensitive nerve at the apex of my thighs as my hips roll forward to meet the friction.

“Are you this wet for me?” Lips ghosting over mine, his fingers find my nipple, pinching. “Do you want a taste?”

“Yes, please.” I say, looking into his eyes as he brings his fingers up, smearing the arousal across my bottom lip before kissing me again.

It’s impossible not to feel crazed as his hands fall to my thighs and push up my skirt, watching as it bunches up around my hips. “Lay back for me.”

Placing his hand in the center of my chest, I fall back onto the desk and whimper when I feel his warm lips leaving lingering kisses along the inside of my thighs.

“Look at you, so willing to let me do whatever I want with you tonight. I don’t even want to unwrap this pretty package you’ve put on for me.” His breath ghost across my center, the anticipation making me feel like I could explode at any minute. “I guess I got lucky— finding you on a night where you want to listen. A night where you want to be told what to do. Am I right?”

Harry doesn’t give the time to formulate an answer, his tongue immediately pressing into my clit before sucking it into his mouth. The action takes me by surprise as my back arches off the desk and my hands search for anything to hold onto.

Dragging patterns across the nerve, I cry out his name as he devours me like he’s never done before. As he releases my clit, his tongue finds my entrance and makes a languid path through my arousal before reaching the place I want him the most.

Up and down.

Side to side.

The stimulation makes my thighs shake as he tugs my hips toward him until my ass hangs off the desk and he pulls my dripping cunt even further into his face.

“Harry, fuck.” My hands flip, nails digging into the wood of the desk no doubt leaving marks. “Right there, fuck. I’ve never— never been so close so fast—“

Pushing myself up to my elbows, I let my head roll back as Harry rolls my clit between his teeth before pulling back, delivering a harsh slap to my outer thigh.

“Do you want to come for me?” Pressing a kiss to the inside of my knee, he raises a brow in my direction and smirks when I nod. “If you want to come for me— if you’re going to scream my name— you’re going to watch me as you do it. You’re going to watch me devour you like my last meal, do you understand?”

I bite my bottom lip and nod, resisting the urge to roll my head back when he immediately finds my clit and brings two fingers to my entrance, pushing them in and finding my g-spot.

“Harry.” His name falls off my lips like a prayer as he keeps his eyes on mine. “Please, please let me come. I need it, I—

I feel it as my body gives into the pleasure Harry so willingly gives.

My back arches, my breast pushing up into the air and not even a sound is able to pour from my mouth. Reaching out to grasp something and knocking a cup of pens onto the floor behind me, I cry out.

“Let everyone know who makes you feel this good.” Standing up, Harry looks down at me as he fists his cock in his hand. “I need to be inside of you right fucking now.”

“Condom?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.

Harry reaches behind him and grabs his wallet, pulling one out and ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on his length. “Tell me what you want? Hard? Soft?”

“Give me what nobody else can, don’t fucking hold back.” I grit out, feeling him run his cock along my clit. “Prove to me that you can fuck as good as everyone thinks you can.”

Harry smiles down at me only a moment before thrusting his hips forward, burying himself as deep as possible, making me scream out for him. “How’s that for a start? You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Harry!” I cry. “I need it just like that, so deep.”

Pulling his hips back, Harry leans over to kiss me as he thrusts again, the power behind it pushing the desk forward an inch. “Yeah? You like feeling like this? Feeling so fucking full that you can’t stand it. Fuck, you take my cock so fucking well, so fucking well.”

“You’re so big, shit.” I moan, my head lolling to the side as his hands spread across my waist and grip me before slamming into me. “God. It feels so— so fucking good.”

“You can take it.” Harry moans above me, his eyes going back and forth between my face to where he disappears inside of me, watching as I take every inch of him. “It feels like this was made for me. So tight, so warm.”

“Please, I need more—“

At my words alone, Harry pulls out and pulls me off the desk and turns me around. Pressing his hand between my shoulder blades, he bends me over the desk before pushing my skirt back up around my waist and grips the waistband to hold me in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” Peering at him over my shoulder, I open my mouth on a breathless moan when his hand cracks across the left side of my ass — quickly followed by the right. “Did you need me to fuck you from behind so I could spank you like this? Huh?”

I feel Harry as he slowly pushes his hips forward, filling me. Listening to his moans as they bounce off the walls, my own whimpers mix with the sound. Gripping my hips, he takes his time as he works so slow — each inch more agonizing than the last before his hips press against my ass.

“Are you going soft on me back there?” Looking at him over my shoulder, I smirk when fire flashes behind his eyes. “Is the guy from the bar all of a sudden gone?”

Harry rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, shaking his head before raising his hand and delivering a harsh slap, one that’s sure to leave his handprint behind.

“I know you fucking like that, don’t you? You’re squeezing my cock like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.” Fingers digging into my hips, I moan when he pulls me back onto his cock and buries himself even deeper. “Tell me — tell me I'm the best you’ve ever had.”

Gripping the edge of the desk, I try to ground myself as Harry brushes against my g-spot with every single thrust, the pull in the base of my spine getting so strong that I don’t know how much longer I'll be able to hold out.

“I’ve neve been fucked like this.” I cry. “Nobody has ever, ever made me feel so fucking good.”

My eyes roll back as Harry presses his fingers against my clit and works them in time with his trusts, making me push up onto the tips of my toes in search of the release that isn’t far off.

“Like that, oh my god.” Panting, I meet him thrust for thrust as he fucks me harder and harder. “I'm so close.”

“Come on pretty poison girl, soak my cock for me.” Gripping the back of my neck, Harry presses me into the desk and gives me everything he has until my body gives up, releasing around him. “Fuck. you feel so good when you come around me like that. So damn good.”

Slowing his rhythm, Harry sweeps my hair off of my back and leans over me, pressing kisses up the curve of my spine. “Harry.”

“Yes?” His voice is soft as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You are incredible.”

“One more.” The words fall from my lips even though I know that I'm so fucked, that I know I won’t last much longer. “I want one more.”

Stopping his movements, I feel Harry chuckle. “You think you can handle me again?”

“I want to see you.” I say, my eyes darting toward the door of the bathroom. “Let me watch you come undone over me.”

Harry grins as he pulls out, the loss of him more than I expected. “I never would have guessed the woman in the crowd would be able to fuck me so well.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate people, Harry.” I walk in front of him, listening to the way he moans when he sees my own release dripping down the inside of my thighs. “Do you like what you see?”

“Fuck.” Running his hand through his curls. He looks freshly fucked and I can’t wait to finish him. “Let me see you.”

Stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light, the sleek and modern design is perfect. Turning, Harry steps close and finds my lips with his, taking his time to kiss me as his hands once again wander my body.

When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I let my head tilt back. “Come on. Give me what I want.”

“So fucking needy.” Harry responds, turning me around and pinning me against the counter. “Bend over, you pretty slut.” Pressing my ass out and shaking it from side to side, I cry out when Harry strikes his palm across each cheek. “How many?”

The tone in his voice makes me moan. “Fuck.”

“I said—“ Cracking down his palm again, he steps up behind me, pushing just his tip inside of my throbbing center. “How many.”

“Until you think I’ve had enough.”

I arch my back when he thrusts forward, his hand connecting with my ass even harder. “What if I never get enough. huh?”

“Harry—“

“What if I'm starting to think one night isn’t enough for me?” He thrusts so deep and I’m so sensitive that it feels so good, I clench around him. “Fuck, when you grip my cock like that I never want to leave — I could fuck you all damn night.”

I moan as I meet his gaze in the mirror, looking at the tattoos on his arms as he slides his hands up my back, gripping my shoulders and pulling me back onto his cock. “Don’t say that.”

“What? Don’t say that I want you?” Bringing his palm against my skin, his gaze locks on mine. “This— fuck, this isn’t normal.”

“What?” I ask, biting my bottom lip and letting my head fall forward. “What isn’t—”

“Feeling like this after one night.” Thrusting into me so hard that I scream, I feel tears in my eyes over the way my body feels ready to give into him again. “I’ve never had sex like this, never fucked anyone this good.”

I let my head fall to the side as my cheek presses against the cool counter, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing through the small room. “That’s because you've never been with someone like me before.”

“Fuck—“ Harry is relentless as he searches for his release. “I need you to come for me again, please.”

Begging me, his eyes are hazy as he looks at me, gaze looking with mine until with one thrust, my body shatters around his. “Harry!”

“Oh, shit—“

I watch as his head rolls back and his body stills for just a moment before his hips slowly guide in and out of me, riding us through the orgasms we’ve given each other.

“There you go, pretty girl.” Running his hands up and down my back. I take a deep breath. “You’re so fucking good. So good, Chan.”

I take a deep breath as I try to center myself. “Harry, that was—“

Resting his forehead between my shoulder blades, his warm breath skates across my skin. “I didn’t know it would be like that when I saw you tonight, the woman dressed with ivy across her body— that the vines would wrap around me and pull me in.”

“I don’t know why you’re the surprised one.” I say, wetting my lips. “You’re the one that showed up here. How?”

Harry pulls out, a whimper falling from my lips at the loss of him. “I don’t know… I wanted to get a drink somewhere where I wouldn’t feel like Harry Styles — I wanted to go somewhere small and local.”

“And you ended up here?” I ask, looking up at him from under my lashes.

Grabbing a hand towel, Harry presses a kiss to my temple before running it under warm water and hoisting me onto the counter, laughing as I wince.

“I ended up here.” He smiles as he reaches his hand between my legs, kissing me when I gasp as he runs the warm cloth over my sensitive clit.

We both look at each other and it’s almost like Harry can’t help it when he leans down to kiss me, taking his time as his hands come up to cup my cheeks.

“Let’s get you dressed, okay?” He speaks the words against my lips but makes no move to let me off the counter to grab my top. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

I laugh. “Come on, we have to get out of here before someone comes in.”

“I hope they do.” kissing down the side of my neck, Harry rests his forehead against my collarbone. “I need everyone to know I was with you — that you’ve been fucked you harder than you ever have in your life.”

Resting my hand in the middle of his chest, I push him backwards and hop off the counter on shaky legs, Harry laughing as he rests his hands on my hips to guide me back into the office.

“Here, let me help you.” It’s a sweet gesture to see a man like him help me back into my top, watching as he uses all of his concentration to make sure every hook gets fastened properly while he doesn’t disturb the leaves.

“Thank you… For tonight.” I say, looking over his features. “I really had a good time.”

Harry smiles and brushes a lock of hair from off my face. “I did too.”

I give him one last smile, reaching for the door handle.

Before I turn it, Harry reaches for my hand, turning me and pressing me into the door one last time, finding my lips with his own.

Unlike most of the kisses tonight, this one is so slow, so gentle.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but I need to be able to see you again — I don't know what my brain is doing to me, but I just know that I need it.” The look in his eyes is so full of hope, so soft. “I’ll understand if you say no.”

“Here.” I hold my hand out, hoping he gets the hint.

When he does, he takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. I easily put my name and number in before giving it back to him, watching his lips curl up with a grin.

“Channing?” Looking from his phone to me, I smile as my hand grips the doorknob and finally push it open.

I wink at him as I step out into the hall. “It’s me.”

He steps forward and grips my hip one last time. bringing his lips down to mine.

“It’s you.”

💖

[kuroosdarling]

MY ONLY VICE — ༉‧₊˚.

‎ft. roommate matsukawa !

‎꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. cigarette smoking, unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, fingering, semi-public sex — wc : 2.2k

‎꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after pining and longing for your roommate, things take a turn in the right direction when he decides there’s something more satisfying than his usual vice

‎꒰ NOTES ꒱ : feverishly wrote this last night...this man has me by the neck </3 tysm to echo for helping me with the summary pls ! anyway ! enjoy !!

“that’s a nasty habit.” you comment, taking in the way he wraps his lips around the cigarette, his hand slowly coming up to light it. it takes him 2 tries to get the flame to stick, the lighter barely having enough juice for what he needs. his eyes travel down to you as he inhales the smoke, a teasing glint in his eye that tells you he’s heard that same comment a thousand times already. he briefly looks up, breathing out the smoke in a dragged out fashion, the moonlight illuminating his features as he does so — the swirl of smoke melting up into the night sky.

“everybody’s got a vice.” his attention turns back to you, the cigarette sitting delicately between his fingers. he flicks off some of the ash that was threatening to fall off before a cheshire grin takes up his face as he slightly leans down towards you. “i wonder what yours is?”

you suck in a deep breath, remnants of the smoke surely invading your lungs as you take a shaky step back. he takes another drag, not letting you out of his sight as he watches you fidget. he’s known about the crush you had on him for awhile. he blows out the smoke again, the feeling lackluster compared to the way you’re drawing him in now.

finally bored of the cigarette, he puts it out on the side of his boot before squashing it into the pavement — careful not to break eye contact.

“i have a few ideas of what it could be.” he goes on, slightly tilting his head to the side, the easy grin on his face ever unwavering. “we’ve only been roommates for a few months but i already know what keeps you up at night.”

your heart drops into your stomach, almost positive on where this conversation was going.

“my vice has always been soothing my oral fixation, but yours?” he stops in front of you, towering over you and gazing at you with a glint in his eye. “something tells me you have a different issue that needs soothing. one you cant do all by yourself no matter how hard you try.”

your mouth is dry, struggling to come up with any words to defend yourself. you were positive he heard you the other night. when you thought he’d be fast asleep, you had been so frustrated lately you needed to take matters into your own hands. but he was right, you couldn’t do it by yourself. 

“i-“ you squeak out, your whole body feeling like it’s on fire. the attention you desperately have been craving from him is now suddenly in your grasp and you hardly know what to do with it. 

“you?” he pushes, before lightly hooking his fingers under your chin, tilting your attention so it’s fully onto him. “are just so cute.”

he leans down so he’s fully in your space, his lips almost brushing against yours. one little nudge and you’d be kissing him. but he waits. 

“maybe we can help each other out.” the words blow over your lips, making your head dizzy. “you help me with my vice and i’ll help you with yours.”

“im not kissing you.” you whisper breathlessly, your tone betraying the words you spoke. you can feel his little chuckle radiate off of him. “you just smoked.”

matsukawa shrugs, starting to straighten up before you hook your hands into the collar of his jacket, pulling him in close to finally crash your lips against his.

he can’t help but groan into the kiss, you’re just as sweet as he imagined. his arms quickly find themselves around you, his hands pushing and pulling against you. adamant on exploring every inch of you he can. 

it’s dizzying — your mind can hardly keep up with the way your body is reacting. before you even realize it, your tongue is gliding over his bottom lip, eager to finally slip into his mouth. 

it’s hard to say how long the kiss goes on, absolutely drunk on the feeling of his lips gliding perfectly against yours. you moan into his mouth, tightly gripping onto his bicep, desperate for him to be closer.

he abruptly pulls apart from you, his chest heaving from lack of oxygen. his lips were swollen and red and you couldn’t help but touch them, running your finger along it with some sense of pride. you had managed to reduce him into a disheveled mess with just a simple kiss.

he quickly grabs onto your hand, placing a kiss on your fingers before one last peck to your lips. without a word, he falls to his knees, looking up at you, his eyes quietly begging for something his mouth was too stubborn to say.

“what are you doing?” you ask, still trying to catch your breath. you look around, reminding yourself that you’re out on the balcony — some what in the public eye.

“fixing my fixation.” his hands leisurely trail up on the back of your legs, causing your knees to buckle slightly. you quickly grasp onto the railing to steady yourself. “if you’ll let me, of course.”

“please.” you breathe out, silently thanking your past self for deciding to wear a dress today. he smirks, his hands continuing their trek along your skin until you feel his palms rest on your backside, giving a slight squeeze. you gasp out from the cool touch of his rings before he hooks his fingers under your panties, slowly slipping them off.

“so pretty.” he murmurs, bunching up the skirt of your dress so he could get himself in a better position. his breath ghosts along your inner thighs and you feel another wave of arousal take over you, your hands tightly winding against the balcony. 

matsukawa places a tentative lick along your folds before diving into your cunt, groaning as he quickly becomes obsessed with the way you taste. languidly swirling his tongue around as he falls deeper into you. you let a cry out into the night before covering your mouth, trying to reel in all the noises that threatened to escape. he pulls back, eyes shining up at you.

“this is only going to work if you hold onto me.” he says, taking your hands from your mouth and placing them on his head. you weave your fingers through his curls as he dives back into your awaiting cunt.

he’s ruthless, not giving you any chance to be discreet. it was like he was on a mission to make you scream his name into the night, ensuring all your neighbors knew exactly who was making you feel this good. every nerve in your body was set ablaze by the intricate flicks of his tongue.

one harsh suck against your clit had you moaning out his name, pulling onto his curls to get him deeper. the sudden sensation has him groaning into your cunt, sending vibrations up along your spine and almost completely short circuiting your brain.

you were getting close, and he could tell by the way your moans became breathy cries and how your thighs began to clench around him. but he was determined to have you fall apart by just his mouth, diving his tongue into your entrance, ensuring his nose strategically bumped against your clit.

without any warning, you feel your whole body tighten up before releasing. between the iron grip you had on his hair and the way your thighs wrapped around him, he swore he could die happy right here. hearing you shout out his name as he lapped at your dripping cunt made the jeans he was wearing uncomfortably tighter — his hard cock twitching for attention.

“shit-“ you whimper as he mouth breaks away. the bottom of his face is covered in your slick. matsukawa yanks down your dress before standing back up, pulling you in by the back of your head for another deep kiss.

you sigh into it, feeling blissed out from your latest high. but matsukawa has never felt so focused, so determined. he starts guiding you back inside without breaking apart, leading you to his bedroom. after stumbling around and giggling into each others mouths, you finally make it there.

“get on the bed.” he rasps out, and you realize you’ve never heard his voice like that — so deep and filled with desire. you quickly bound over, laying back on the bed and scooting up, resting back on your forearms. he unbuckles his belt, taking it off and sliding it off to the side before shimming out of his jeans.

you only have a brief moment to look down before he’s crawling over you. but you can feel it — his hard cock twitching against your thigh, begging for some sort of attention. and he’s huge. 

“mattsun-“ you start before he silences you with a kiss, one that reassures you and soothes all the little worries that start to plague your mind.

“call me issei.” he whispers against your lips, pulling back slightly so he could get a better look at your face. his cock jumped as he took in your features, mystified by how you’re sprawled out under him, looking up with wide, doe eyes and nodding along to every word he’s saying. “gonna have to stretch you out a bit more, okay?”

“okay.” you run your hand through his hair, pulling slightly so his lips are back on yours. issei’s kisses leave you breathless yet absolutely intoxicated by the lack of air. you sigh into the kiss; after months of pining after him, you were finally right where you wanted to be.

his finger lightly touches your folds before he slips it in, slowly pumping it. you clench at the intrusion, pulling from his soft, swollen lips and gasping out into his room. the feeling from his finger alone already felt infinite times better than your own.

he quickly adds another finger, your walls practically sucking him in. he starts to do a scissoring motion, stretching you out so you could fully take him. he brushes past a spot deep inside you that has you rolling your eyes back with a strangled moan.

“yeah? right there?” he smirks, teasing you as he looks into your eyes. all you can do is whimper as he keeps thrusting his fingers in. “that the spot?”

“‘sei.” you call out, starting to ride his fingers as you feel your second high start to creep up on you. “please.”

“please what?” he asks, watching you with dark eyes as you squirm under him. he slips in a third finger when you don’t answer right away, eliciting another moan from between your lips.

“please fuck me already.” you reach down and wrap your fingers around his wrist, slowing down his movements. there’s a beat where you look at each other, both understanding that there’s no going back from what you were about to do. but neither of you minded, it’s not like you were the closest of friends anyway.

you quickly rip off your dress over your head and unlatch your bra. issei’s eyes widen at the sight of your bare chest but before he can do anything to appreciate it, you’re trying to tug off his shirt so he’s left in just his boxers.

he gets the hint, pulling it off of his head before pinning you back down, reclaiming some control of the situation. he eases his boxers off and tosses them to the side, grabbing a hold of his weeping cock. 

but he feels your hand quickly find his, smearing his pre-cum along his tip to try and speed up the process. between your eagerness and the way you started to expertly pump his cock, he knew he couldn’t waste anymore time. he needed to be inside of you.

“ready?” he whispers in your ear, giving it a small peck as he slides his tip against your slick folds.

“please—“ you hiccup. “no more teasing. no more waiting.” 

he nods, slowly pushing in. he gasps out at the feeling of your warm, wet walls enveloping his cock in a vice like grip. everything felt so hot and he couldn’t help but keep pushing in.

your hands find his back, clawing at him as you feel him bottom out — feeling so full like he was lodged all the way up in your stomach.

“you okay?” his hand grips your hip, rubbing soothing circles against it as he tries to read your face. all you can do is nod earnestly, trying to rock your hips against his for friction. he watches you hump against him for a moment, drinking in the way clutch onto him. he softly smirks before starting to pull back out “didn’t know you’d be so needy.”

before you could retort, he thrusts back in — the force of it pushing you back on the bed. issei grabs your hips to hold you in place, feverishly fucking you onto his cock. he couldn’t hold back anymore, not when you cried out his name, looking like an angel sprawled out on his bed.

“you’re such a good girl — holy shit — taking my cock so well.” he groans, his lips finding yours again as he thrusts don’t falter. you whine into his mouth.

his hips stutter at how well your walls keep sucking him back in — the way you meet him thrust for thrust has his mind spiraling to the point of no return. completely lost in the way you feel, the way you sound — he knows there’s no coming back from this. he’s absolutely addicted. 

his new vice, the one where he knows he’ll be craving all hours of the day until he’s finally satisfied when he gets to have you in the wee hours of the night. only for him to realize it won’t be enough — it’ll never be enough. luckily, you’re just as hooked as him.

[ghostwr8er]

His Little Pogue | Rafe Cameron

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: you have complex feelings for rafe cameron but when he shows up to the chateau, he shows you his feelings are just as complex.

warnings: unedited, smut (18+), enemies to lovers!, dry humping, semi-public, fingering, slight overstimulation, dumbification (if you squint), rafe is fucking filthy, degradation, oral (f), i think that’s all lol

author’s note: this is my first time writing smut and it’s also unedited bc i’m lazy.

y’all want a pt.2? lmk!!

enjoy xx

Kooks & Pogues.

That’s all it’s ever been and probably what it will always be. You happen to fall into the Pogue category. You run around all day with the misfits of the Outer Banks, smoking pot, stealing, and the occasional treasure hunting. You have everything you could ever want: being free alongside your 5 bestest friends.

Who even needs Kooks?

At least that’s what you thought before you met him.

rafe cameron.

You would be wrong if you said that rafe was unattractive. Although you would never say that because his head doesn’t need to be any bigger than it already is. Another thing you are ashamed to admit is that you used to have a huge crush on him, in fact you still do. But god, you couldn’t fucking stand him.

He always felt the need to insert himself into business with you and your friends. I guess he wanted to keep an eye out for what Sarah was doing because he was always spying for Ward. He would terrorize your group and call you “Dirty Pogues” and maybe throw a couple punches here and there. But with you, he was a lot different.

He would allow his gaze to linger just a little too long and would never break eye contact. He would whisper insults into your ear when the two of you were alone, find any excuse to give you light, lingering touches that meant nothing. But you couldn’t deny that they made you body heat up.

Just like today.

You were sitting at the dock by the Chateau, blunt in one hand and a lighter in the other. jj and kie were sitting next to you, talking about your plans for the day. john b, sarah, and pope were sitting inside, oblivious to what was to come.

You lit the blunt and took a long drag and exhaled into the humid air. Just as you were about to pass the joint, you hear a car pull up. It’s way too nice to be a Pogue car, and you know exactly whose car it is.

“Here we fucking go. What a waste of good weed.” jj huffs as puts the blunt out on the dock and stands up, fixing his hat. He looks ready to fight and you have to mentally prepare yourself.

The car doors open and out comes topper, kelce, and…rafe.

They start walking toward you and you, kie , and jj meet them halfway.

“god, it never ceases to amaze me just how shitty you Pogues live.” topper spits as he kicks an empty beer can across the grass.

“Well you know, some of us don’t have Daddy to come and buy us all these nice things while we sit and do jack shit.” jj says as he walks towards topper. topper looks shocked, like he’s never been stood up to before. I look past topper to rafe.

Who, to my surprise, is already staring back at me. He gives me a smirk followed by a wink.

“someone ought to really teach you some manners.” topper says as he pushes jj’s chest. You quickly realize that this is going to escalate very quickly.

“I need to get the others. kie, hold jj back until I get the boys.” You say as you start around the Chateau.

“pope! john b! sarah! the kooks are here!” You yell. Just as you round a corner you are pushed against the side of the house. It knocks the wind briefly out of your chest. You look up to see Rafe’s blue eyes staring back at you.

“rafe, what the hell! let me go!” Thrashing against his grip, but proving no effect. He smirks at your attempts, finding it amusing that you think your small frame can do anything as he towers and cages you against the house. You turn your head to see the rest of your friends meeting the other Kooks in the front yard. That gives you some relief.

“oh, but that wouldn’t be fun now would it?” He smiles. He brings his hand to move a piece of your hair behind your ear, his gold ring glimmering in the sun. His eyes boring into you, sending an unclear message. Your cheeks involuntarily turning pink.

“as much as I’m enjoying our alone time, I need to go help my friends. always a pleasure, rafe.” You say rolling your eyes as you move out of his grip, it is extremely short-lived.

Next thing you know, your chest is pressed against the side of the Chateau with Rafe’s chest pressed against your back. His hands are resting dangerously low on your hips, it’s a very suggestive position to be in with someone you claim to hate. He leans over your frame until his lips are right beside your ear. The smell of him meets your senses. Sandalwood and expensive cologne travels through your nose. It puts you into a trance, like you just popped a psychedelic and you are the highest you’ve ever been. It makes your head spin.

He’s fucking intoxicating.

“I like this view much better.” He chuckles darkly in your ear. He pushes his hips closer to you, and that’s when you feel it.

He’s hard.

“r-rafe, get off me, perv!” You stutter, your breath hitching in your throat. He notices your breathing pattern and smiles to himself. He realizes that if you really wanted him to get off, you could’ve slipped out from under him. Yet here you are, still at his mercy. He hasn’t even really touched you and he has you flustered like a virgin. He experimentally rolls his hips forward. You whimper at the friction, nails digging into the wood of the house. You instantly slap your hand over your mouth.

“your body tells me otherwise, sweetheart. something is telling me that you like me.” He smirks against your ear as he places a kiss on your neck. Your body craves more friction so you grind your ass against his jeans, biting your lip and looking up at him. His breath stutters and he lets out a low groan, gripping your hips tighter. His jeans becoming painfully tight as time progresses.

“I’m not the only one enjoying this.” You smirk as you continue to grind your ass against his cock. He lets out a shaky moan, rolling his hips in response. You shouldn’t be enjoying this half as much as you are. Sure, you are enjoying teasing Rafe but God, does it feel good. His hands halt your movements.

“you’re supposed to be a dirty, little pogue; beneath me, insignificant.” he pants, slipping his hands to the front of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. “So answer me this, baby,” he slips fingers through your underwear and pulls them down to join your shorts around your ankles. You moan as your bare pussy is exposed to the open air and to Rafe’s hungry gaze.

“why do I want to fuck you until you are begging me to stop, hm?” He says, breath tickling your ear. He licks the shell of your ear and you shudder as he moves his long fingers further and further down to where you crave him most.

Every ounce of rationality has gone out the window, every shrivel of pride. You are so desperate for him that you think that if he doesn’t fuck you soon, you are going to explode. His fingers run up your slit, feeling just how sopping you are for him. Your hips jerk involuntarily towards his hand.

“Is this all for me, pretty girl? Look at her, she’s practically drooling.” He says he allows his finger to dip into your heat for just a second, causing you to let out a pathetic whine. He laughs at your misery but is secretly holding back every urge to bury his face between your thighs and go to town until you’re sobbing.

“you are so soaked for the boy you always say you can’t stand, for a kook.” You whimper at his words, reaching out for his hand to move it back to where you want, but he moves it out of your reach.

“please, rafe.” You beg, reaching for his face behind you and turning your head to be face to face with him. He smiles at you as he rubs tiny little circles over your swollen clit teasingly.

“please what, pretty girl? tell me in that pretty voice of yours.” He kisses your neck affectionately. You push your pussy against his hand and whimper.

“please touch me, rafe! want your f-fingers, please!” you plead pathetically, gripping his bicep, nails digging crescents into his arm. Your eyes begging him to please you, how could he say no? Just then you feel his hand leave your clit and his pointer finger prods at your entrance.

“You’re fucking addicting.” He says as he finally shoves his finger inside of your soaking pussy. His cold ring causing a whole new level of pleasure. You practically scream in pleasure.

“fuck, rafe!” you yelp, he increases his speed until you can hear the lewd, squelching noises at the action. You claw at his arm and he grabs your hand and interlocks your fingers against the wall.

“so fucking tight, sweetheart. wanted to shove my fingers in your little pussy for years.” He says as he turns your head so that you are looking directly at each other.

“wanted this for s-so long, baby. feels so good, rafe!” You say against his lips as you whimper when his finger curls upwards toward your g-spot. He closes the gap and kisses you with so much passion, it makes your head spin. Just then, he shoves another finger inside and you moan against his lips. You feel the coil in your stomach begin to form and you begin to tighten around Rafe’s fingers.

“what would friends think if they saw you right now, hm? So dumb all because of a kook’s fingers. rafe cameron’s , nonetheless.” He smiles darkly.

“s-shut up, I’m so fucking close, rafe.” You whimper parting from his hot kiss. His two fingers moving impossibly fast, your arousal dripping out of you and onto his hand, running down his arm. Rafe moaned at the sight. He could’ve came right then.

“be honest and tell me who makes you feel this good and beg me to cum, baby.” He brings his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, “If you do that, I’ll let you cum.” he smiles devilishly. You whimper as you hammer your hips to meet his brutal pace.

“ you make me feel this good, rafe! only y-you! please let me cum, can’t hold it!” You were sobbing at this point, the pleasure his fingers are giving you is too much. You feel slightly embarrassed by your confession, but that’s a later problem.

He takes his fingers out of you and spins you around so you’re facing him. You stare at him in hazy confusion until he pushes your legs apart and sinks to his knees. He shoves his fingers back in you and when he starts to suck on your clit, you start to see stars.

“aw, so fucking honest, cum for me baby.” He says as he increases his suction on your clit. Your vision turns white as you reach your high. Rafe doesn’t stop as he laps up your release like a starving man. His tongue fucking your pussy in an animalistic manor. His eyes meet yours, his pupils so blown out you can barely see the blue that you oh so adore.

“s’too much, rafe!” You whine helplessly at the overstimulation. As Rafe takes his mouth off your pussy, putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking on them. You moan at the sight, taking a mental picture. He stands and you look down at his bulge and he looks painfully hard.

“had to taste you, baby, taste so fucking sweet.” He admits adoringly as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips and you can taste yourself on his tongue. You allow yourself to get decent and redress yourself.

“rafe! let’s fucking go!” You are yanked back into reality as you hear Topper’s voice from in front of the house. Rafe takes his jacket off and ties it around his waist, barely concealing his arousal. He turns around to you one last time.

“come over to see me tonight, finish what we started, yeah?” He says with a smirk as he runs back around the house. You lean against the house as your chest heaves like you’ve just ran a marathon. You just got finger-fucked by rafe cameron , and you fucking loved it. Your thoughts are short lived as your friends run toward you.

“oh my god, y/n! Are you hurt? We didn’t know where you went!”john b says as he checks you for any injuries. Your friends surprisingly didn’t appear to be injured. So you assume the wounds found themselves with the kooks.

As your friends ran their mouths about the kooks, your thoughts lied with what the hell you and rafe cameron are going to get into later tonight.

part 2?

hope you enjoyed,

please leave an ask telling me how you liked it!!

ghosty

[demonsword586]

Gehenna pp headcanons! (Just nobles)

(A little warning. This gets explicit. I was trying to make it goofy but I think I might have gone a bit....off. Still I hope you enjoy it. Mind you,I never saw a pp before,only an imaginary one of my friend and they still didn't let me poke it.)

Sitri

- Okay let's start off with the size...just from what I seen of him,I think he's on the bigger side. Definetlly bigger than Satan and his king is still pissed about that from time to time.

- 20-21 cm I think

-Now he is a gentleman. He was raised in hell called Hades. Which means he was probably taught of proper higene. In other words,this man's lower region is as smooth as a baby.

-Smells like tea. He drank so much tea,his piss now smells good and his cum tastes like black tea.

-Now for the shape and color. I think his tip is on a brighter side of pink. It's suprisingly slim and elegant compared to someone like Satan who's penis looks like a meat claymore.

-Anyway good penis on a good man. Refreshing as well if you need a man with flavoured cum.

Zagan

- Hmm....Now for Zagan,I think he's a grower.

-His bulge is pretty small but if we think on how much he exercises,there's no way he isn't training his penis as well.

-Okay hear me out. He has a little workout routine for his pp. He flexes up his muscles and makes it go up and down,probably does a helicopter to warm it up.

-And it actually works! His pp has grown in lenght and girth from his training and now he can make it hard on command.

-He does smell a bit funny though. He works out and while yes,you can hide the scent of sweat on most of your body,this is one part where he can'r mask the scent because it is simply too strong.

-My point? His pp smells...of manliness!

-He tries to take care of his pubes but would prefer to keep a small white bush above the shaft. You can't get him to shave it off tho. The bush stays.

-Also I think most of his cock is the color of his skin except his tip which is just one shade lighter.

-His seed tastes like protein tho.

Paimon

- Tucks it. I can't explain why but he tucks it. This bulge? Those are his balls.

-The actual size of it is around 13 cm. A little small for a devil but still packs a punch.

-He wears very cute underwear. He knows no one will see it but it just feels nice to know he has something cute on. Wears comfier undies when he's home and done for the day.

-Likes to put glitter on it. He just thought it would be a funny little thing if he putted some of that super fine and sticky glitter on the shaft....and now he puts on a little fasion show for the other nobles every once in awhile.

-It's actually good tho. He uses those little brushes and stencils. He once even did it for Leraye who then ran around pantless to show everyone how talented Paimon is at dick decoration.

-Sometimes when he thinks he doesn't smell good,he might put some parfume on it. Don't be suprised when his pp smells like flowers or vanilla.

-Very well groomed. No hair on the balls or around the penis. The only thing that he does have...is a little heart shaped bush slightly above his pp.

-The penis itself is on a little more girthy side and when hard it leans slightly to the right. Pretty pale with a pale pink tip.

Leraye

- flat

- Anyway Leraye I think is also a grower. It may not look impressive flaccid wirh only 12 cm but when it gets HARD..oh boy. It goes from a puppy to a wolf. This thing is easily 21 cm once you wake it up.

- The shape is on a leaner side. Being slender but also long. He does hower go thicker around the base. But only at the base,like a slight knot.

- He once walked in on Zagan when he was warming up his pp with the helicopter move and then very euthusiasticlly asked Zagan to teach him.

-Next time you two were about to have a passionate night he wanted to show you a trick. Wipes it out and then swings his pp around like a disco ball while saying 'Look what I can do!😃' It ended up being a little joke between the two of you.

-Suprisingly doesn't have a headless teddy anywhere near his cock. If you ask him,maybe just our of curiousity,why he doesn't have a teddy there like on his horn he will look at you with dread. That would be just rude of him to dirty the dead body of a plushie by impaling it on his pp. He can't bring himself to go as low as Glasyal.

- He does have a bit of pubic hair. A small, dishaved,blond bush . Very pretty and suits him. Please let him keep it.

-His cock is as milky as him. A very pretty color with a flush tip.

Belial

- Normal. Questionably normal lenght. It's not too big and not too small. Just...normal. maybe falls a cm or two from perfect.

-It's also on a little skinnier side. Nice and thin.

-Still size isn't everything. It's important how he uses it....and unfortunatelly for you,he's good!

-He manages to fill in for the lack of impressivness with his experience.

-He is quite strong so with him you're able to try some more adventurous positions like the bicycle or the ballet dancer.

-Gets easily moist. His precum is very watery so his tip looks like it's always glistening.

-Very well groomed. Almost no hair down there except for a thin strip. Also the carpet maches the drapes,his pubes have red ends.

- He also has 2 frenum piercings. Astaroth recommended him to get them,saying " You will corrupt many mortals with these. "

-The dick itself is pretty pale with a darker shade of pink at the tip.

Astaroth

- OH HOLY MARY

- *cough* Sorry *cough* thighs...

-Anyway! Let's go from the size down....BIG. The snake on his bory isn't the only snake he has.

- 26 cm

- You know how snakes hide their pps in what looks like a slit? Yea Astaroth can do that.

-Normally he keeps it inside of himself,but when he gets shy or horny,it pops out and his pants suddenly look a little heavier. There was a time when Sitri didn't know about his anathomy and just saw him suddenly get a bulge. He asked him if he just shat himself.

- Once out and hard,his cock naturally curves upwards. It's just slightly thicker than a normal one but with how long it is,that may be for the best.

- He has a dydoe piercing on the head of it. He considered going for more but decided not to after how intense it felt. He does always wonder how it would feel like if his piercings got stuck inside of you. How romantic~ Two lovers tied together as one for eternity~ (Thankfully it never happens. He is nice enough to take them off if you don't like the feel of them)

- He likes to keep himself well groomed. I mean very well groomed. He waxes off everything and then puts extra virgin olive oil on top. He also puts some on his shaft from time to time to make it a bit more smooth and squishy.

[slut4sugu]

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔— (E!42 Miles x Fem!Black Reader)

ʚ 🍓ɞ including: toothrotting fluff, miles being soft, use of the n word, use of nicknames/pet names: ma, princesa, guapo ʚ 🍓ɞ Genre: fluff ʚ 🍓ɞ Summary: reader and miles are in the middle of a thunderstorm and the power goes out which leads to some nighttime silliness

Back to masterlist . Best Part: H.E.R

THUNDER ROARED OUTSIDE YOUR APARTMENT AS YOU SAT PROUDLY ON YOUR SHARED BED; 2 boxes of flavored chapstick laid out in front of you. Looking up at your boyfriend you gave him a playful smile, who in turn gave you a ‘ is this some shit you saw on TikTok?’ look. “Mami what is your sneaky ass up to?” You giggled, before explaining to your boyfriend you wanted to do the chapstick challenge. Opening both boxes and storing all of them in a little cloth basket on the bed, “So I get to kiss you until I guess the right shit? Bet.” You rolled your eyes at miles, though you also had wanted to find an excuse to be the center of his attention for a period of time, and this was perfect. You were about to tell miles that he had to close his eyes when you both were suddenly enveloped in darkness, the power had gone out. “Stay here ma, I’ll go light those candles I bought you.” “Jesus nigga don’t leave me in the dark-“ “Ma, I dont need you bumping into walls tryna find my lighter.” Your lip jutted out in a slight pout, though then formed into a smile once you felt a kiss being pressed into your forehead. “Just don’t fall off the bed.” Rolling your eyes, you felt him leave the bed and heard his footsteps descend out the door. You let out a cackle as you heard miles curse after hearing a thud, “Keep laughin and ima throw badtz out the window.”

Once he returned into your shared bedroom, the rest of the apartment was now dimly lit, the features of your boyfriends face now appearing more attractive under low lighting. His stoic expression now more handsome under closer inspection, his low eyes causing your heart to race slightly. Feeling your gaze on him as he walked over to your dresser light one last candle he asked, “See somethin you like ma?” Eyes still on the candle as he said this, though he could almost picture your cute embarrassed expression. “Just get over here so we can start this.” You stated, nails fiddling with the bottom of miles graphic tee. (That you totally did not steal from his closet.)

🍓 ( one blindfolding minute later )

You rummaged through the bin before finding a flavor you were sure he couldn’t guess, coke. Miles had always said that the two tasted the same and that it didn’t matter one way or the other. After coating your lips with it you kissed miles. (Since he was blindfolded) Your hands cupping his face while doing so, pulling back too soon for miles’s taste. Kissing you back, his hands found their way to your hips, your mind slowly starting to go blank as you felt his tongue runs across your bottom lip, “ That’s def coke, right mami?” Miles asked though already knowing the answer as he pulled back from the kiss, admiring your cute pink lips and your even cuter embarrassed expression. You hated how he could make you crumble like that with just words and his touch alone. “..yeah.” A smirk tugged at his lips before you sucked your teeth, and flicked his shoulder with your nail. “Don’t be a sore loser princesa, you even got a kiss out of it.” He teased further, before pressing another to your cheek. “It’s real cute when you try and be mad at me mami, I know you can’t be for long.” His hands tickled your sides causing you to burst out in giggles. “O- okay okay!” You tried to escape by wiggling out of his grasps but miles trapped you underneath him by laying his body on top of yours. His face now buriedin your neck as he finally relinquished his tickle attack on you. “Still mad at me?” You sighed despite the big smile on your face, “No, but only because you’re cute when you smile.”

“..Shut up.”

“Love you too guapo.”

[mountainsandmayhem]

Right Person, Wrong Time

Joel Miler x Female Reader

AN: This is for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge. And for once, I did not write smut. I know, who am I? This is not beta'd or really proof read. I'm basically having imposter syndrome over the whole thing soooo...Love you, say it back, bye!

You know that famous saying, “Right Person, Wrong Time”? Well, that was Joel Miller. He had the potential to be the absolute love of your life, but as a single father to a teenage girl and a small business owner, he just didn’t have the time right now. You were about to turn thirty, him thirty six in just a few days time. So, the night before his birthday you made the gut wrenching decision to end things with him. 

“What do you mean we should see other people? There’s no other people.” He proclaimed, eyes filling with tears, mirroring yours.

“It’s just not the right time. I want to get married and have a baby, Joel. Do you really want that?” You have to remain strong, it had only been three months, you hadn’t met Sarah or any of his family. Same with your side, he knew about your sisters but no one else was at risk of being hurt by this break up outside of the two of you. This was the right thing to do before you both got in too deep.

Right Person, Wrong Time.

Almost twenty five years later and you still find yourself replaying that conversation. Every September, Joel flashes behind your eyelids - still perfectly clear, almost like it had just happened yesterday. Dark curly hair, patchy scruff, big brown eyes and furrowed brows; one day he’s going to have a permanent crease between them from all his sexy scowling. If you focus hard enough, you can feel his rough and calloused fingers on your skin. You can still hear his deep and silky voice, almost managing to make you feel lighter every time he said your name or called you darlin’ or sweetheart.

“That feel good, Darlin’?”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

The outbreak happened not even 24 hours after you broke up with him. Had he survived? There’s no way you survived and he didn’t. Your suspicions were confirmed the day Tommy Miller showed up.

For the most part you liked to keep to yourself, running the community garden. You’re thankful for the small and safe community, but word gets around. And when you hear that Tommy’s brother has come to town you shrink even further back into the shadows, unsure if you want to see him again. Would it hurt more if he remembered you, or if he had no memory of you and that conversation that has imprinted itself upon you? Joel Miller is your last memory, both happy and sad, before the world fell apart. 

Him, and the little girl he showed up with, left before you found the courage to approach him and soon winter took over Jackson, leaving you without the garden. Without the distraction from your thoughts of Joel.

The winter is long and brutal. April finally rolls around, and you trudge out into the rain and head to the dining hall for dinner. The gates open in the distance, but you’re lost in your own thoughts. This is more rain than you have seen in months. The garden is going to love it, you think. Just as you’re about to step up the creaky wooden steps you hear your name. It floats across the commune in a deep, gravelly, and oh so familiar voice.

You stop, tears flooding your lash line and the mud squeaking under your rubber boots as you turn to look at him through glassy eyes. Your lips part and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. The world around you melts away. All you can see and hear is Joel Miller. He’s aged, grey peppers his temples and facial hair, he has those lines that you knew he would permanently etched between his brows, but those big brown eyes are like they’ve been frozen in time as they dance around your face.

“It’s you,” he says softly, voice shaking in a mix of sadness and relief, as he takes a few steps towards you. “I-I can’t believe it. I’ve, well…” He rakes his fingers through his soaked curls as you stare at him. The rain is coming down in a steady sheet, the ground becoming a muddy mess, and both of your clothes completely soaked through. You haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours. 

It’s you.

“I have thought about you almost every day since the world fell apart,” he continues, his warm voice washing over you like molasses. “When I was at my lowest I would think of that little dimple you get when you smile, or that time wine came out of your nose from when you laughed at that stupid joke I made. I don’t remember the joke, but I remember how happy you looked as the sun set and the orange glow lit your skin. I’d remember the way your face scrunched up when you tried whiskey for the first time. I would remember where all your freckles are, and how soft you were against my lips as I kissed every single one. I’d think of that first time we made love, how I’d never felt that overwhelmed with emotion for another person before, how in that moment I realized that I was truly fucked when it came to you. It was anything you wanted, sweetheart. Even if it meant you wanted to break up. I never should have let you go, darin’. I’m so sorry. I tried to find you before we fled for Boston.”

By the time he’s done talking you’re right in front of him, chest grazing his, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. You have no idea how you got that close to him. You don’t remember moving your feet. Joel Miller, your Joel Miller. Greyer, lines around his eyes, but yours.

As the rain pelts down you waste no time, reaching up around his neck as he lifts you up and into his embrace. Your noses graze as you whisper a quiet ‘I missed you so much’ into his lips. 

“I’m never letting you go, baby. Never again.” He says and then you press your lips into his in a searing kiss. It lights your whole body on fire, you feel like you’ve been hit by a defibrillator. 

You’re alive again.

====================

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi i @pedritoferg @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

[essentiallyleaf]

day 20. cockwarming. with. jisoo.

1105 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, cockwarming, angst, i don’t even know anymore, possibly the coldest cockwarming fic to ever exist, so much angst and for what.

notes.

short and a little rushed. sounds just like every day of my life. exhaustedly, leaf.

You plop down on the bed, barely able to take your black dress pants off before the dizziness gets the best of you. Jisoo is there, laying still, facing away from you and towards the cloud-shielded moon outside of the open window, like she always is. You can’t really tell if she’s awake or not, and the alcohol certainly doesn’t help.

This must be what they mean when they talk about magnetic fields. We’re immersed in them all the time, but we can’t see it, something about a wavelength our eyes are not tuned to. It’s like even when it’s past your bedtime (which on a weekend night like tonight is at least three hours after your regular bedtime), the sky completely starless, when you zig-zag through the streets and keeping your balance requires a voluntary effort, when your white shirt has more than one almost fully dried Bordeaux stain on it, you don’t know why or how, but your red needle always points back home, back to her.

You always manage to find your way to your shared bed, well, shared right in this moment, but often, too often one could easily argue, the bed feels hollow and freezing as Jisoo’s in it alone. Maybe that’s why the first thing she does when you lie down on it, is take your strong arm and wrap it around her waist to hold her close and share some of your alcohol-boosted warmth, and keep her own arm over it as if to ask you to never let go, never leave her again. She’s awake. Your natural response is to use your other hand to brush her long, silky black hair and watch it flow through your fingers, but as she feels your breath caress her shoulders, she knows that you can’t promise much more than that.

This shouldn't work. Well, to be fair, it isn’t working. But throwing stuff away, whether it’s dropping old photos in the fireplace, or leaving an entire relationship behind you to possibly never see your special person again, that hurts. It’s not just about the value of it, no, if that was the case, if that thing you’re throwing away still brought value to you, then you wouldn't be getting rid of it, right? It’s about admitting that something went wrong along the road, that things didn’t work out, that a wrong turn was taken, and that maybe, you were the one who took it. So the only thing you can do is turn away, keep going down that road, and if you ever happen to look back in a moment of accidental lucidity, justify your own mistakes.

So Jisoo reaches back and starts rubbing the outer side of your naked thigh, slowly traveling up to your ass as you lay a trail of quick kisses on her shoulder. Once she starts fiddling with the hem of your boxers and pushing her own butt back towards you, you get the message. You take your underwear off and stroke your dick a couple times before her nightgown is hiked up and her cheeks fully envelop your length. Your pecks take a trip up to her neck while both of you start shifting your hips up and down, back and forth against one another’s, a couple of low moans leaving your mouth.

It was your fault, but what if it wasn’t? What if that girl, what was her name even, hadn’t asked you for a lighter? What if she hadn’t looked at you all night with those warm brown eyes, what if she hadn’t asked you for a ride home? Any of those would’ve fixed this. The nights of yelling at each other’s faces and the nights of dead silence, the feeling of unbridgeable distance even when holding hands, the cool air of beach days in the middle of August. Maybe invisible walls are the best solution in some cases, and fuck it if they break some people’s immersion, as long as you can see the sun rise in the distance, you can live with not being able to touch it.

Jisoo suddenly stops her motion just to raise her thigh a little, suggesting you to enter. You align yourself with her slit and penetrate her warmth, her slick coating easing you through her walls and quickly letting you bottom out inside her, but as soon as you try to retreat, she puts a hand on your hip, halting its movement. She just places her thigh back down and stays still for a few seconds. A few seconds that enclose some kind of understanding, or, a feeling of understanding, at the very least. Most of the times when you have a revelation, an epiphany, you have no idea what the fuck is being revealed to you, you only see the light bulb turn on. Your kisses get wetter and longer, traveling from her upper neck to her ear and to her jaw, your hand finds itself on her soft, perfectly sized mound. She starts contracting her abdominal muscles repeatedly and rhythmically, squeezing your shaft between her tight walls, your pelvis still fixed in its place. You see her skin glow more than usual under the faint moonlight, and you think you taste a little salt as your tongue brushes her cheek, which you can’t help but groan on every time Jisoo tenses around you.

Invisible walls are not meant to be broken. They’re meant to disengage, to discourage. What does it say about us when they manage to do what they’re meant to? Is it sad, disheartening? Does it speak about our sense of agency as a whole? What if you did something different, what if it was your fault? You can’t go back, so what can you do about it now? Another night of getting drunk, another night of having sex, in each other’s embrace but miles away.

Your hand feels up her thigh as hers reaches between your legs from the back and starts massaging your testicles. You can’t hold back anymore. Her abs contract once, twice. You stop counting, she feels too good. Your thigh wraps around hers as you cum inside, letting out multiple guttural moans right next to her ear. You drop load after load of white paint onto her walls and into her womb.

You think you hear a little sniffle. Again, the only response is to caress her hair and leave one long kiss on the back of her head. Not more. Sometimes we hurt people that love us, love people that hurt us. And if it’s true that opposites attract, then likes must also repel.

-

footnotes.

sorry if this is depressing. how can i help you get back to horny, the superior mood? lunatically, leaf.

[zeroeightzeroone]

souvenirs - han jisung

love collection

genre: fluff

pairings: idol!han jisung (istp) x fem!reader (infp)

synopsis: jisung comes home from japan.

wc ~2.5k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

j.one<3: bonjour love open le door

you: has felix been teaching you

j.one<3: teaching me what

you: nvm i'm coming

gently pushing against your desk, the desk chair you're seated on rolls back enough so that you have enough space to stand. your feet once again clad in warm, fluffy socks pad against the floor as you make your way out of your bedroom, down the hall and to the front door where your boyfriend waits patiently on the other side.

jisung stands with his hands shoved into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels as his eyes graze over the door of your unit as he waits. the moment he hears you on the other side, fiddling around to unlock the door from the other side, his attention is immediately taken by you. a giddy feeling blossoming in his stomach.

you open the door to reveal your boyfriend clad in black jeans, a grey hoodie with a white t-shirt peeking out from underneath and a mask covering the bottom half of his face. alongside a knapsack resting on his back and a tote bag slung over his shoulder. a little keychain dangling from the strap of the lighter-weight fabric bag has you wondering.

prompting you to ask, "don't you have a key?"

jisung nods his head quickly as he makes his way inside, his eyes crinkled into crescent shapes and you know he adorns a cheeky smile underneath that mask; feeling incredibly proud of himself.

you close the door behind him, "you could've let yourself in."

"i know," he folds his mask, shoving it into his pocket, "but you opening the door for me means i get to see you sooner rather than later."

you're proven right as he sports a wide, ear-to-ear grin at how witty he finds his own antics. in the middle of an eye roll, jisung catches you off guard when his thumb and forefinger tilt your chin up to him. your eyes blown wide in surprise when he places a kiss on the corner of your lips, causing your heart to go into overdrive. meanwhile his second kiss on your deeply flushed cheeks has you swooning over the boy in front of you.

jisung retracts his hands, thumb and forefinger no longer tilting your head up to him as his arms fall back to his sides. the sudden loss of contact has your bottom lip jutting out as your boyfriend looks down at you with an even wider grin.

"yes baby?" he coos. patting down your hair and then playing with the end of your ponytail between his fingers, "you need something?"

you pucker your lips.

"you missed me?" he teases before leaning down to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, "i missed you too."

your arms move around jisung's waist, nuzzling yourself into his chest with a sigh of comfort. the two of you stand at the entrance of your apartment unit in each other's arms before detaching from one another long enough for your boyfriend to discard his shoes whilst you hold onto the tote bag. jisung then trails behind you as you make your way to your bedroom.

shutting the door behind him, jisung shrugs the knapsack off his back before leaning it up against the wall. from where you sit at the edge of the bed, you extend your arms out to hand jisung back his tote bag.

the boy shakes his head.

"that's for you," he informs as he walks around to your dresser, rolling open the first drawer, "i got you some stuff while we were in japan."

jisung shuffles through the drawer that holds his clothes with his back facing you, not noticing the small smile that plays on your lips when you gaze down at the tote bag.

the tote bag containing little souvenirs that reminded jisung of you during his trip to japan.

despite letting jisung know that he doesn't need to bring something back for you every time he's out of the country for work, the boy insists on it. when he sees something abroad that reminds him of you, something he thinks you'll adore, he can't just not buy it. jisung gets to tell you the significance of the trinket when he brings it home to you.

your curiosity regarding the contents inside the tote bag has taken your full attention as jisung pulls out a pair of his grey sweatpants. your boyfriend unbuckles his belt in the background and you hear his pants hit the floor. pulling out the contents of the bag and laying them before you, you can hear jisung shuffling as he pulls the sweatpants on.

when the task is completed successfully, he takes a seat on the bed, leaning up against your headboard as he watches you lay everything out. jisung finds himself smiling affectionately in your direction, watching as your eyes sparkle as you look over every item you've laid out in front of you.

a delayed gasp leaves your lips when your eyes land on the milk chocolate brown, plush bag charm. immediately reaching out to grab it.

"you got me one!"

jisung shakes his head with a smile.

"that's the one you're most excited about?" he moves to lay on his stomach next to you, "the han quokka bag charm?"

you nod your head vigorously, giving jisung whiplash when you're suddenly on your feet and grabbing the bag you always use when you go out. your eyebrows furrow as you focus on opening the ball chain, looping it through the d-ring and closing the metal clasp. 

with a huge toothy grin on your face, you extend your arms to display your shoulder bag with the new edition of a han quokka charm. the charm flopping around with the sudden movement.

"cute," han quokka himself comments.

"i know," you scoff playfully as you place the bag down, "hmmmm…"

jisung lies with his feet to the headboard and he's propped himself up with his arm to look at you. you crawl back onto the bed, choosing to sit cross-legged next to him, your elbow resting on his hip as you lean into him. the two of you continuing to go through the items jisung brought you from japan.

he picks up a box, "i heard these character masks were really good, so i wanted to try them with you,"

you get ahold of the box, turning it around to look at the variety of animal masks it says are inside.

"plus, i think we'll look scary with them on," jisung remarks and you laugh in agreement.

he picks up tabi-style socks; instead of one big pocket, it has a slit for the big toe. 

"i saw these and i knew you'd love them. they're not fuzzy like the ones you're always wearing but they're cute, and i know you like cute."

he's right, the socks are adorable. a bunch of little akita dogs decorating the blue fabric making different expressions.

next, jisung points at a couple kit-kat bags, each bag a different flavour than the next. he talks about how you love sweets and that he bought them so you could try all the different flavours together. along with other japanese snacks he found at the convenience store, some that you'd tried before and others you haven't.

"we went to a studio ghibli store and i remembered the first movie we watched together was howl's moving castle," he moves to point at the sticker sheet.

when you and jisung started dating, you had never seen a studio ghibli film and jisung couldn't have that. he made it his duty that the next time you were able to hang out together, he would go straight to educating you. when that next hangout came around, jisung went straight to turning on howl's moving castle. he wanted to show you his favorite studio ghibli movie before moving on to the rest.

"i chose this one because it has some stickers of heen," you look closer, "and i remember you thinking heen was the cutest thing in the world when he popped up on the screen."

your heart swells as you listen to jisung talk. the fact he remembers these small, seemingly insignificant details from the beginning of your relationship until now, almost two years later. he brings them up in such a nonchalant manner as if these facts are common sense and as if he isn't making your heart beat out of your chest from his thoughtfulness. 

jisung can feel your gaze on him, his cheeks heating up at the realization as he reaches over to get a hold of two medium-sized boxes, opening them up one at a time.

“this one’s from chan hyung,” he says, “it’s a daruma doll. the eyes are empty so you fill in one when you start a goal, then you fill in the other when that goal is completed. hyung bought nine, one for each member and one for you. he said i’d be a good token of motivation.”

“i’m the ninth member of stray kids” you gasp, reaching out for the hollow figure. 

jisung hands the figure to you, taken aback when your facial expression changes suddenly. your eyes that were once wide with awe were now narrowed at him as you point a finger directly at the boy.

“just to let you know, i can’t dance, sing or rap.”

jisung laughs loudly.

that is not what he was expecting you to say with your sudden change of emotion. the dark-haired boy laughs himself onto his stomach, one hand landing on your thigh, the boy now face down in a laughing fit next to you.

“is my lack of talent funny to you?” you poke the swirl in his hair at the back of his head.

still face down, jisung nods.

"wow, ok. rude.”

he rolls back on his side, gasping for air as you glare at him.

“but i love your dancing, especially the little wiggles,” he leans his cheek against his hand, “i especially love hearing you sing, i think you have a beautiful voice.”

he reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, your glare softening at the gesture.

“my favourite is hearing you try to do my rap parts in a song. half the time you’re making random noises and maybe a word here and there.”

you swat his hand away with a pout, “you talk too fast!”

jisung giggles with a smirk, pretending to flip his hair over his shoulder, “thank you. i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes as jisung proceeds to open the next box.

“this is a maneki neko, a lucky charm,” jisung hands you the small, black cat figure, “minho hyung got this for you, the black maneki neko is said to ward off evil spirits.”

you turn the maneki neko in your fingers, observing the details. while you’re occupied, jisung picks up something else.

“this is from seungmin."

jisung hands you a small stone. you blink, observing it in your hand.

you blink again, “what is it?”

“a stone. a rock.”

“ok, yes. i know that much,” you retort, “is there a message behind this one too? is it a lucky rock?”

jisung shakes his head and shrugs, “seungmin picked it up outside the stadium and told me to give it to you.”

your eyebrows furrow in confusion, observing the rock in your hands once again before a lightbulb goes off in your head. 

“when he said he’d get me a something that rocks from japan, i didn’t think he meant it literally.… my random japanese rock?”

the dark-haired boy shrugs his shoulders again, “babe, who knows what goes through that puppy’s mind? but anyway, i’ll let them know i gave you their gifts… and… the rock.”

jisung slides his phone out from the pocket of his sweatpants and he gestures for you to show off your new gifts so he can snap a photo. in one hand you hold the daruma and the maneki neko and the rock in your other hand. you smile widely towards the camera, the smile on your face mirrored by your boyfriend behind the device as he snaps the picture. the same smile doesn’t budge when he goes to send the photo into the stray kids family group chat, typing up a text message.

whilst he’s doing that, you take the time to examine the daruma doll and the intricate designs painted on the small figure. your lips parted in awe as your eyes graze over the strokes, imagining the time and effort put in by the talisman. amazed by the talent and dedication.

jisung’s phone buzzes and he chuckles, flipping the device around to show you the screen and the messages flooding into the chat.

yongbokkie: is that a rock

seungmoo: yes the best souvenir ever

leader bang: yay! did she like the daruma?

leebit: i guess the charm didn’t work you’re still there

jeonginnie: i think i should be y/n’s best friend i’d get her a better souvenir than a rock

seungmoo: fight me

jeonginnie: i’d win

hyune: lol hannie is an evil spirit

dwaekki: maybe y/n likes bad boys

you laugh at the abundance of incoming messages in the group chat and extend your arms to get ahold of jisung’s phone, which he hands over with no hesitation. beaming as he watches you type up a message to send into the group chat. once you’re done and have pressed send, you’re passing the phone back to your boyfriend who reads over your reply.

hanji: hi next couple of messages are from me, y/n i did like the daruma, thanks chan! best friend applications are open: whoever brings the biggest rock wins no comment on the bad boy thing lol

jisung types up his own replies before shutting off his phone, silencing it and placing it face down on the bed. there’s one more souvenir that jisung brought from japan that hasn’t been opened yet.

whatever is inside is hidden behind a white paper envelope. japanese characters are written vertically on the left-hand side of the envelope. your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you watch your boyfriend remove the contents inside the envelope. laying out two amulets before you: one pink and the other one blue.

"we had some free time before one of the shows so minho, hyunjin and i went to a shrine. we were looking at all the different omamori– lucky charms– when these two teens in school uniforms came over," jisung picks up the pink charm, "we saw them buy these two charms and run off."

you gaze at him lovingly as he recalls his time at the shrine.

"we picked up bits and pieces of their conversation; the couple had been together for a while and wanted to buy this charm specifically," he switches the pink charm to his other hand, leaning up on his elbow instead of on his hand, "these ones are love omamori or en-musubi omamori."

jisung picks up the blue one, holding it next to the pink one. his eyes grazing over the two amulets laying on his palm.

“i searched up the different omamori charm meanings while we were there and i read that en-musubi means something along the lines of binding of fates," he explains.

slowly, jisung’s eyes move from the amulets and meet your own. if it's even possible, his facial expression softens further as the smile on his lips reaches his eyes. holding the pink amulet towards you, motioning for you to take it. you tear your gaze away from his chocolate brown orbs and down towards at the pink, fabric amulet you hold between your fingers.

"i know that dating me isn't all that easy, that it gets hard. but even though it gets hard i'm lucky to be loved by you, i'm lucky to have you as my love. i'll be even luckier when my fate binds with yours, the most amazing person i know and the person i love more than anything."

a huge smile breaks out on your face at jisung's words. 

you take your boyfriend by surprise when you launch your body into his, embracing him in a hug. jisung grunts at the sudden impact as he rolls onto his back, his arms instinctively move to cradle your body into his. being in jisung’s arms gave you a sense of satisfaction, similar to the one you get when you find the puzzle pieces that fit perfectly with the other.

your face is nuzzled into the crook of his next, jisung leans his head on yours. your legs are perfectly intertwined with his as he holds you against him, feeling the way his chest rises and falls, the warmth radiating off his body. the two of you lay in each other’s arms for the next few moments, adjusting your positions so you’re laid right next to him instead of on top of him. one of jisung’s hands moves to caress your hair, and a sigh of contentment leaves him as he recalls how much he longed to hold you in his arms whilst he was abroad. 

cuddling a pillow to his chest, imagining it was you, didn’t help at all. 

“you want our fates to bind together?” you say in a hushed tone, jisung immediately nods in response, “really?”

“of course, why wouldn’t i?” he cranes his neck to look down at you, “binding our fates together means i’ll always get to see your little dances. hear you singing in the shower and attempting to rap along with me. i’m lucky enough to be able to do all that right now. i'd be the luckiest man in getting to do all that and more, with you, for the rest of my life."

even though you’re shaking your head with an eye roll at his words. you’re also cuddling more into his side as your heart leaps and swells listening to him.

“you got a way with words, you know that?”

“it's not like my career depends on that,” you gently slap his chest and the boy chuckles at your reaction, “i love you, you know that?”

you smile at the way he reiterates the end of your last response, “i do. i love you too.”

[atlabeth]

bad luck - nikolai lantsov

summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.

a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending

At first, you’d thought you were hallucinating. 

You couldn’t remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldn’t have exactly surprised you. 

Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. You’d imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasn’t a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you weren’t in chains, and reveled in the sound. 

And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you. 

Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking man—though he hardly appeared old enough to be called a man—a pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didn’t belong in a dingy place such as this. 

“Hello, all,” he said pleasantly. “I am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.”

Your grip slackened. “What?”

Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. She’d chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent. 

You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought you’d imagined it when he looked away. 

“I have no desire to keep you all here against your will,” he said. “Call me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slavers—it doesn’t matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.”

“Are we free?” you asked.

Again, the captain’s expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at you—this time, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. 

“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “You’re free.”

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.

The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. “Now, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we can’t find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.”

Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. “Tamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. I’d like to make a speech.”

She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. You’d been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldn’t shed any tears for them, but you weren’t accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from. 

“I’d like to introduce myself to you all.” You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line you’d all formed. The Shu woman from before—Tamar, he called her—stood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they were—at least for now—on your side. 

“You can call me Sturmhond,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps you haven’t. I don’t particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.” 

The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you weren’t wholly naive. 

“But I want to be clear,” the captain said, “this is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.” 

Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the others—she removed everyone’s shackles at once. 

Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little Palace—Saints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkan—but there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized. 

“We didn’t really need the keys,” Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he looked—he should have been in university, not heading operations like this. “I just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamar’s axes are quite terrifying.” 

“Who says we want any part of your opportunities?” asked a man from down the line. 

“Because I’m allowing you the choice,” the captain said. “Those of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.”

There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again. 

Your throat tightened. You ran from them—that was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again. 

And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct. 

“As for those of you who want revenge,” he tilted his head, “you can earn a place in my crew.” 

“Why would we work for you?” a woman from across the brig shouted. “We’ve got our freedom!” 

“Because there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,” Sturmhond said. “And because the sea is rather lovely when you’re not a captive.” 

“That is my opportunity to you all.” He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. “A chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.” 

“Why would we want to work with pirates?” you spoke up. “We have lives to get back to. And half of us aren’t fighters.” 

You didn’t know what it was about you that made Sturmhond’s expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you. 

“Privateer, actually,” he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. “As I said, it’s your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.” 

You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. You’d dealt with too many men like him, but it wasn’t a bother—in three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck. 

“Now,” the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, “any questions?”

Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel like getting on the captain’s bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem. 

“Wonderful. We’ll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,” he said. “Any of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.” His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. “I doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.”

“Some of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,” Sturmhond continued. “If you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.” He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that. 

“I suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.” Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. “I hope you’ve all earned your sea legs.”

He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They must’ve been his first mates—you were immensely glad they weren’t against you, what with his size and her axes.  

But as he did, you couldn’t help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just… unnatural. Unsettling.

You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didn’t care if he was unnatural or unsettling—you would be gone in three days. 

All you had to do was keep your head down. 

-

Sleep wasn’t easy after the day you’d had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot you’d been assigned wasn’t much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress you’d ever felt after what you’d been sleeping on before.

You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.

You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. 

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

“Sturmhond wishes to speak to you,” Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did. 

“Why?” 

“My job isn’t to ask questions,” Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasn’t familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captain’s quarters for you. 

She didn’t follow you in, and you didn’t know whether it was a relief or not. 

“Ah. You’re here.” Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. “Drink?” 

“You didn’t just invite me here for a nightcap,” you said placidly, “did you?” 

“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it would remind you of home.” 

You frowned. “You’re Ravkan. Who’s to say I am too?” 

“How did you know I was Ravkan?” 

“Your accent.” 

“Then how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?” 

“Maybe I will need a drink,” you said bitterly. “It’s the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.” 

Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. “Such harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaver’s ship.” 

“Who’s to say I’m the daughter of a duke?” you asked. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to keep playing this game?” 

You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle. 

“An accent gives quite a bit away,” Sturmhond said. “It’s also obvious to anyone that looks at you—and I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,” he looked you up and down, “you carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.” 

Your lip curled. “How astute of you.” 

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. 

“Born and raised in Os Alta,” you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. “And I suppose you’re correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.”

“You wound me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?”

“I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, captain.”

“Sturmhond,” he said.

Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. “I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, Sturmhond.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, “it’s an opportunity. I’m just curious of what drove your choice.” 

You crossed your arms. “Strange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.” 

“Privateer,” Sturmhond corrected, “and you’re no longer a prisoner.”

“My point still stands,” you said wryly. 

“Is it wrong of me to be curious?” he asked. 

“It’s pointless,” you said. “And if you’re done with your little interrogation, I’d like to get back to sleep.” 

“I’m not here to be your enemy.” He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. “Surely you understand that.”

“I understand it perfectly well,” you said. “I just don’t see why you care.”

“Fine,” he amended, “I’ll let you be. Just one more question.” Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. “Why did you run?” 

You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. “Excuse me?” 

He didn’t waver. “I thought my question was quite clear.”  

You picked up the cup he’d poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throat—your tolerance never was all that—but it didn’t make much difference with the scowl already on your face. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions, pirate.” 

“Privateer,” you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out. 

-

Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda. 

He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks. 

“Seriously?” you asked. “Did he not get my message clearly enough last night?”

She shrugged. “He just asked to see you again. I don’t know why.”

You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.

“What are you playing at?” you demanded. 

“Good evening to you as well,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“What are you playing at,” you repeated flatly. 

“I’m not playing at anything,” he said. “Is it a crime to enjoy your company?” 

Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. “If you’re after what I—”

“I’m not after anything,” he assured with a frown, “and certainly not what you’re thinking.”

His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.

“…Good,” you said after a moment. “But I still don’t understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.”

“Because I know you,” he said. “You may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.”

“What,” you said wryly, “do you want my advice on how best to rob them?”

“Of course not,” Sturmhond said. “I wouldn’t need your advice for that.”

You huffed a laugh. “So what do you want?”

“I’ve been at sea for quite some time,” he said, “and you’ve only just left Ravka. I’d very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.”

“You assume I have any.”

“I assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsov’s betrothed would have some,” Sturmhond replied smoothly.

Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.

“Fine,” you said. “You’ve got me. I’m the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?”

“Not at all.” Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glass—brandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. “I want your knowledge.” 

“My being betrothed to Nikolai is why I don’t know as much as you think,” you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. “Nikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.”

“Disappeared?”

You nodded. “He was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,” your lips curled in a disdainful smile, “he up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I haven’t heard a word from Nikolai since.”

Sturmhond frowned. “My deepest apologies.”

You shrugged. “He made his choice. Apparently he’s in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope he’s still alive.” You huffed a laugh. “I cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.”

“I’m sure he is still alive,” Sturmhond said. “And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you.”

“How kind of you,” you said dryly.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I ran from my family and my fate, and that’s why I ended up here. I don’t think I can go back just yet.”

“And what fate did you run from?” Sturmhond asked.

“A marriage I didn’t want,” you said plainly.

“As opposed to the marriage you did want.”

“Are we done here?” you asked. “Because I don’t think you need to know more of my personal life.”

Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. “Yes. But I’d like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” you said.

“And I don’t intend to. There’s just one last thing I wish to share with you.”

“And you can’t do that now?” you asked wryly.

“Patience is a virtue, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He held up his hands. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You’re very strange for a pirate,” you said.

“I’m quite normal for a privateer,” Sturmhond said.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. “Enjoy the rest of your night, privateer.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldn’t shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door. 

“How long have you been part of his crew?”

“A few years,” she said.

“Do you ever get used to him?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “No.”

You sighed as the two of you started to walk. “What a surprise.”

-

You were at Sturmhond���s door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadn’t come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly weren’t going to refuse her.

As usual, you didn’t bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly. 

“You actually came,” he said.

“Consider me intrigued,” you said. “I couldn’t just walk off and never know what you wanted to ‘share with me’.” 

The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. “You’re just as fiery as I remember.”

“We just met,” you said dryly.

“On the contrary.” Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. “You spent the other day describing our lost time together.”

“I’m…” you blinked and shook your head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m Nikolai Lantsov,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me say all my titles, though.” 

For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief. 

“Is that what this is? You consider me a fool?”

“On the contrary,” he repeated. “It is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.” He offered a wry smile. “And because you don’t hate me the way you should.”

“You cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,” you said. “Anyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?”

“It sounds absurd when you put it like that,” Sturmhond said with a frown. 

“Because it is absurd,” you enunciated. “I actually thank you for this, because now I know I’m making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.” 

You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. “Please move. I’d like to leave.” 

“He speaks the truth,” Tamar said. “I promise you. He’s Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. ” 

You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. “What?” 

“Nikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,” he said. “No one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.” 

“Then change him back,” you said, looking back at Tamar. “Get your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.” 

“They are not lies,” she insisted. “And I’m not the best tailor.” 

“You’re both Grisha,” you said flatly. 

“Heartrenders,” Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. “My most trusted crew. Come on, Tamar— I believe in you. Work your magic.” 

She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit you’d been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didn’t take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose. 

He… he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from him—or at least a mirror image of him—after so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didn’t have him anymore. 

“That doesn’t mean much,” you finally said, glancing away. “If you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.” 

“You overestimate my tailoring abilities,” Tamar said dryly. 

“I still don’t trust it,” you said, and you started again for the door. 

“When we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,” he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. “You scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the waters—you still have the scar on your ankle.”

You turned around. “How do you know that?” 

“My father held a party and your family attended,” he continued. “We were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parents’ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.” He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so many pastries in my life.” 

A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadn’t thought of that party in years. 

“And when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress you—I only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.” 

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you murmured. 

“And…” he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. “I still have this.” 

Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light. 

Your engagement rings still matched perfectly. 

Nikolai’s smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. “And you still have yours.” 

“Of course I do,” you said. “It was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.” 

“I’m glad you went through it, then.”

“It really is you,” you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. “I— I just don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?” 

“Privateer,” he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. “Could you give us a moment alone?” 

She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past. 

“I do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second son—a bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.” 

“I appreciated Prince Nikolai,” you said. “I appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.” 

“I know,” Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. “If there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because it’s true—I have not forgotten you. I never did.” 

“Then why go through all of this with me?” you asked. “Why annoy me into spending time with you?” 

“Because I’ve always been quite good at annoying you,” Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. “And because… I didn’t know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was true—I did leave you, and I haven’t said a word to you since. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didn’t want to force myself back into your life.” He managed another small smile. “Fortunately for me, you did not hate me.” 

“I could never hate you, Nikolai,” you murmured. “I— I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.” 

“Even more fortunate for me,” he said softly. 

“So why didn’t you come back?” you asked. 

“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. “You talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didn’t want to force you into a life with me. If I had known you—” he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lips— “if I had known you loved me, I don’t know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.” 

“You are the reason I was here,” you said. “My parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in you—a marriage my parents wanted couldn’t have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.” 

“A marriage you didn’t want,” he echoed, his eyes soft. 

You nodded. “They did all the work behind the scenes—I was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch banker’s son. And I just… couldn’t face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the world—” you gestured lazily— “I ended up here.”

“Then I suppose it’s only fair that I ended up rescuing you,” Nikolai said. 

“I thought this wasn’t a rescue,” you said wryly. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. It’s still an opportunity— one I think you’ll like much more.” 

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh?” 

“I plan to go back and take the throne someday,” Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. “But I don’t want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,” he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something you’d sorely missed, “will you do me the honor of sailing by my side?” 

“I’m not a sailor,” you said with a breathy laugh. 

“I can teach you,” he said eagerly. “I can teach you everything I know until you’re a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything I’ve missed while being at sea—all the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.” 

Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more. 

“How can I refuse?” 

Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the first one you’d shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something new—the promise that he wouldn’t let you go like he did before. 

You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time. 

Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once. 

“And if it wasn’t clear,” Nikolai murmured between kisses, “I never stopped loving you for one moment.” 

You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. “You wear too many clothes.” 

“Then fix it.” His voice was sultry in your ear and you didn’t know how you went seven years without him. 

You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave.