#no turns out its about a completely different thing and they just consider the fucked up thing just. a fun cool vacation

[the-faultofdaedalus]

love creating characters that should rightfully be traumatized or at least a little bit fucked up by their parent's parenting style except instead they're just, like, fine

[playingonedchess]

how is it that i can feel nostalgic about the time i was sitting on the pavement under an overpass in a foreign country crying because something didnt go my way and gave me a bit of a largish bill but clearly really cause there must be something wrong with me

[vixstarria]

Intimacy

Hello friends, have some soft Act 2 Astarion.  

Astarion’s struggle with sex and intimacy. Connected with my other fics but is a standalone, per usual. 

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, soft Astarion 

Hurt/comfort, some fluff if you squint, love, angst, mutual pining, Act 2 spoilers, some fairly softcore smut 

Approximately 1,600 words. 

AO3

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he told you. You’d replayed that conversation over and over countless times in your mind, since.  

You had no idea what you were doing either. Oh, navigating an ordinary relationship was simple enough, and you’d had your fair share of those – even if they’d all ended in disappointment at best, so far. Being with someone who’d just escaped 200 years of abuse, however... That was something new.  

“I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex.” 

Well that was a fuck-up. He was walking sex. ...Most likely due to sheer force of habit, so necessary for survival over all those years, but still.  

“I love you.” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...  

You were in over your head too. Completely. Hopelessly. In love with this catastrophe of a man.  

What were you to do with him now?  

Wait for him to take the lead in every physical interaction? It wasn’t in your nature to be so passive. He knew this. And you were sure he would love to be treated like spurned glass all of a sudden.  

Continue as you were? Even though now all you could think about was whether a touch might bring up a repulsive memory? Assume that you could singlehandedly overwrite centuries of disgust and loathing, overnight? How presumptuous and overbearing that would have been. 

Communicate? Ask? Listen? Sure. Absolutely. You did. Or tried, anyway. You were about as good at talking about these things as he was. And you didn’t really trust him to be completely honest at this point. Whether with you or his own self.  

And so you explored. Slowly, cautiously and attentively.

 

The most innocent touches seemed to bring him an inordinate amount of joy. You weren’t surprised.  

Passing him a vial of poison for his weapons and letting your fingers brush and caress one another’s, briefly. Wordlessly running a stray hand along his waist and planting a quick kiss under his ear while you walked past him as he stood talking with someone. Lingering with your foreheads or noses touching lightly after a kiss.

 

He leaped at any opportunity to massage your sore muscles or help you apply a salve, and you let him. It seemed he wanted to take care of you, and was working out all the ways how.  

He still pleasured you in different ways, at times.  

“You don’t have to...” 

“I want to,” he said. 

He just chose to keep his own pants on, now. You weren’t sure about his motivations. Could it be guilt? Or a misguided sense of self-worth? Did he still think this is all he was good for? Or, maybe you were completely overthinking it, and he was still just desperately horny, even if taking a step back. He was more present than before though, you could tell that much. 

You considered his reactions to other forms of touch, careful not to make your observation obvious. 

He hated being scratched. The entire area of his back covered in scars was off-limits for anything but embraces. He enjoyed playful bites, both giving and receiving. And more than anything, he loved holding you close, feeling as much of your body at once as possible, basking in its warmth.  

In turn, you were more than happy to wrap yourself around him when you could. 

“Why do you even like this?” he asked, apprehensive about it at first. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I can’t give you any warmth.” 

“I can give you mine,” you said, simply. “Besides, you obviously don’t remember what it’s like to lie in a puddle of sweat with someone who runs hot. This is a nice change.” you added after a moment of contemplation.  

You meant what you said, but you were dying to drag him into a hot bath, just to know what it would feel like for him to be warmed through. Maybe you’d get the chance once you got to Baldur’s Gate.

 

There happened to be a private room available at Last Light Inn that night. The group unanimously agreed that you and Astarion would take it, while the rest of your companions bunked in the common. 

“For Shar’s sake, piss off, none of us want to see or hear you two,” were the exact words of their blessing, delivered by Shadowheart. Karlach sanctified it by throwing a (deftly dodged) half-eaten apple at Astarion’s head.  

“Especially not hear!”

 

“I know this may come as a shock, but I’m actually not too fond of beds,” he said. 

“New memories, Astarion,” you shook your head. “Beds are non-negotiable. I wasn’t too fond of rutting in the dirt either.” 

“I’ll never grow tired of how poetic you are,” he smiled, unceremoniously throwing his gear on the floor. “New memories, you say?” 

A while later, you were straddling Astarion’s hips as he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed. 

“You know, you never did tell me what you like,” you sighed, your fingers in his hair as he kissed your neck.   

“Oh, what does anyone like? It’s all the same in the end,” he said, running his hands along your thighs. 

“That’s not true,” you murmured in his ear. “I can show you some things that are pretty unique to you right now,” you said and ran the tip of your tongue along the lower inner edge of his ear, making him shudder and let out a small moan.  

“You little devil, when did you figure that out?” he breathed.  

“When I happened to brush your ear a while back, like this,” you giggled, repeating the hand movement on his other ear, making him catch his breath slightly again, “and you just about started purring.” 

He just chuckled in response. 

“So what other secrets are you hiding?” you purred, kissing around his ear. “I might just need to kiss and caress every inch of your body to find out.” 

"Sounds like a terrible chore,” he said, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. “You don’t want to do that.” 

“Shut up and let me cherish you.” 

You kissed down along one side his neck, slowly, taking your time, pausing to lightly lick or nibble on any spot that made him hitch his breath. He was putty in your hands by the time you reached his collarbone. 

“Just don’t go any lower,” he said breathlessly. 

You hummed your agreement. You couldn’t handle going any lower yourself – you were completely intoxicated with the scent of his skin and the sound of his sighs of pleasure, if you went any lower, you would keep going, and you didn’t think it was a day for that yet.  

You continued up the other side of his neck instead.  

You hesitated for a moment before your lips reached the bite marks left by Cazador, but Astarion made no indication that he didn’t want you to keep going, and so you continued. He let out a soft whimper as your lips brushed the scars. 

“No?” you pulled back slightly, your hot breath still on his skin. He was lying with his eyes shut, head thrown back, neck completely exposed to you. 

“Yes...” he whispered, hoarsely. “Very yes... Softly...” 

You continued, lingering with your lips on the scars, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, snapping them against his own and grinding you against an unmistakable erection. 

“I want you to make those marks your own... Yours and no one else’s...” he rasped. 

This is probably a mistake, you thought, but you could barely help yourself as you moaned into his neck and ran your tongue over the scars, making him growl and grind you into himself harder. The friction, the knowledge that he wanted it too was driving you mad.  

“I’m going to come if you don’t stop that,” you begged. 

“Go ahead,” he groaned. 

“Not without you.” 

Something in the energy changed then, and you lifted yourself off him, sitting up. Astarion stayed on his back a moment longer, before exhaling and also raising himself into a sitting position. You were still on his lap, facing him.  

“Listen,” he took your face in both hands, looking into your eyes intensely. “I want you so fucking bad, it hurts. I want to tear your clothes off and ravage you until you’re speaking in tongues. I do.” His voice was hoarse. He paused, before continuing. “But even more than that, I want to remember this, remember you, and not have any of the dirt from my past mixed into it. It’s difficult enough to keep it at bay as it is.” His eyes teared up at that. “And right now, for now, this is the only way I know how to do that.”  

“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang from your eyes. 

“No, you sweet idiot, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you.” He gathered you in his arms, kissing away your tears as his own started to roll down. He sighed. “Great, now no one is coming, and everyone is crying.” 

You both burst out laughing as soon as those words were out of his mouth.  

You held each other a while longer, him stroking your back, before you broke the silence. 

“So the bite scars are pretty erogenous then?” 

“Extremely. Use that knowledge at your own risk and peril, darling.” 

He lifted your chin for a kiss. 

“Shall we go piss everyone off for a while, maybe steal Lae’zel’s boots, then come back here for more ‘memories’?” he asked.  

“Sounds childish and dangerous. I’m in.” 

You needed to clear your head too.  

Maybe tomorrow would be the day one of you would get closer to knowing what it was you were doing, and tell the other. Until then, at least you were in it together. 

~~~~~ 

The “I love you” is not canon for Act 2, but it is my headcanon, damnit.  

Like what you just read? Huzzah, there’s more! - Series master list

Next in series - Communication

AO3

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING HAZY !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: carlos wanted his wife to let it all out. that’s all.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), not proofread, use of explicit language, established relationship (married), soft dom!carlos, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie, sex as emotional outlet, dacryphilia, reader being in subspace, ion know what i wrote it’s just smut, consider this my fever dream (i have a fever)

recommended song: american by lana del rey (i kinda based it off the vibes of the song)

note: y’all should check out something devoured bc there’s not much jenson button love out there 🤭 this was also an idea i brought up to a moot (@daaiissyyyyy) because we had too much fun recommending songs back and forth enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

the spaniard didn’t usually come home earlier than his wife. his flights back to madrid were usually longer and she worked nearby. so it wasn’t everyday he got to go home and relax in front of the television while he patiently waited for her to get back from her office shift. 

what he didn’t expect, however, was the expression on her face when her eyes lit up for a brief moment at the sight of carlos.

it was as if she felt numbness in her system, telling him about her work and how much her boss frustrated her after working for hours on a project she’s dedicated herself to. 

it was one of those things that carlos had heard through the nightly facetime call with her. she spoke enthusiastically about her project while she cooked dinner for herself, to which she’d ask about his media duties and how it went for him after.

it wasn’t anything that carlos didn’t welcome; he loved her so much that her enthusiasm and cheeriness were nothing but a part of his everyday life. 

so to see her like this— less than optimistic and happy without the verge of crying (which she usually did over the little things), it didn’t sit right with him. 

“cariño,” he murmured, stopping her from moving around the kitchen as he pulled her closer to him. pinning her against the counter, she took a deep breath as he asked, “i’m here now. what do you want?” 

“i- i-“ she stammered, “i’m okay, carlos.”

“no, you’re not, bebe,” carlos mumbled, kissing her neck before his head moved up and his mouth nibbled at her ear. “i’ve been married to you for years. i know when you’re not okay.” 

his breath fanned her skin as he said, “tell me what you want, mi vida. ‘m here for you.” 

“i-“ she took a deep breath and murmured, “i just want to let it all out and cry, carlos and i can’t do it.” 

out of desperation, she turned around and faced him with a wobbling smile. “i want you to fuck me ‘til i’m crying and- make it all go away, carlos. please.” 

with a sweet smile, he tipped her head back and softly kissed her. 

“anything to help you out, cariño. let’s get you out of these clothes, hm?” 

it was like she was being split into half. 

his cock, its girth and length, was no contest to her cunt. carlos could still remember the first time her eyes landed on it as if she was wondering how it would fit into her. 

carlos loved the way her eyes would roll back when he managed to fit in snugly, fucking her while being pleased by the way her legs trembled and shook as he continued pounding into her. 

but right now, it was all about her. all she wanted was to have an outlet for her emotions. that’s what she was getting. 

he watched the way tears fell down her temple as he smiled gently. his smile differed from his actions, thrusting until he completely bottomed out of her and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, eliciting a whiny moan from her as she incoherently spoke. 

she felt like she was being split into half, yet she wanted him to break her fully. 

“‘los, wan’ more,” she whimpered, her eyes shut tight as she whined.

“i know you do, mi vida,” carlos murmured, pounding hard as her toes curled and her heels dug into his hips. “so eager for me.”

“fuck, carlos, please~” she opened her eyes for a moment. carlos saw nothing but haze in her eyes, her thoughts were already driven away from the insanity of her reality at work. 

good, carlos thought. all he wanted was to distract her from the stress. 

“you look so pretty, mi corazon,” he mumbled, his fingers pulling away from her tits to wipe her tears away. “so, so pretty.” 

“te mereces algo mejor, mi esposa,” you deserve better, my wife. carlos continued. “so much more than those people, bebe.”

she was already too fucked out to even consider what he was saying, sobbing as she begged him for more. “carlos, please fuck me harder. i wanna cu- hah~ fuck— please—“

“shh,” he tutted quietly, his fingers now trailing down to rub her clit as she let out a sharp cry. now thrusting harder and faster, carlos moaned at the way her walls clenched around his cock as he mumbled, “so fucking good for me, mi amor. cum for me, bebe.” 

her legs twitched and heels dug into his hips as she whined, “gonna cum, ‘los! i’m cumming— ah- hah~” 

she felt nothing but euphoria, her vision turning white as she let out a quiet scream. “oh, oh~” she whimpered, feeling him paint her walls white with his pleasure as they both let out choked moans. 

carlos’ breath fanned her neck as he gathered his breathing. then, he gently pulled himself out of her. she let out a whine, telling him to continue stuffing her and that she felt empty without his cock inside her. 

he stood for a brief moment, watching as her body limped and a mix of her and his pleasure oozing out of her cunt. 

with her mind still hazy she murmured, “carlos, want you.”

“i know, mi vida,” he said softly. “i’m just gonna clean you up then we’ll go to sleep.”

“but—“ she sobbed, tears falling down again. 

“no more thinking,” he told her gently, yet his words demanded her to listen. he leaned over to press a kiss on her forehead as he mumbled, “not tonight. we’re gonna go to sleep and you’re gonna listen like a good girl, hm?”

she relented, wanting to please him as she nodded. a pout still played on her lips, not happy with his words but regardless she said, “mmm…okay.” 

carlos smiled lightly. it was nice to know that she got her emotions out already— she clearly needed that more than anything. 

[ekpriyasi]

𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : jungkook x reader

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: yandere, best friend to lover, jungkook is a hotty, angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: oc is sad and lonely

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : He loves bieng my friend ,but he has girlfriend who he loves ....could this possibly change him from your close friend to a distant person .. And 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵

𝗮/𝗻 :omg, this is my first fic here, I don't know how to feel.jungkook is kindy fucked up here but gonna be good soon.. Sorry english is not my first language so correct me if there is any mistake ,I hope you enjoy. , lob ❤

𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺... 𝘉y lovely @xonga ..

------------------☆♡☆♡☆♡☆---------------

The purest form of love is consideration.When someone thinks about how things would make you feel. Pays attention to detail. Holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you. In any bond, how much they care about you can be found in how much they consider you

And as for jungkook , it was beyond clear that how much he loved you.. cause the way he considered you even in his own relationships. he loved you as a friend, a friend he cared for a lot. There was nothing more . Was it? No. You were convinced.

But today when you were staring at the ceiling considering about many possibilities. That was now making your best friend distant to you. Today was the seventh day since you last hanged out with him. He didn't cut you of completely , no would never. But the dry replies of him everyday when you wanted to know how his day was or is he doing well , made your heart twist in sadness and loneliness. The distance was uncomfortable as it was new. Never before did jungkook did anything like this. He was always communicative, always loved hanging out and being with you

And you felt empty . Yes you were his habit and he was your. Jungkook never went even two days without being in contact with you. He was touchy. It was his love language. He loved holding you close to him , keeping your legs on his laps when watching movies, keeping his hand on your knee or thighs when hanging out at your friends house ,holding hands when walking and He also had a habit ( more of obsession ) HE LOVED KISSING YOUR NECK WHEN LEAVING YOUR HOUSE, WHEN EVER HE FELT NERVOUS OR UNCOMFORTABLE. he did that literally every day without missing any day

But today was day seventh of him not touching you or kissing your neck. Your friends always used to tease you and jungkook that how you two were more intimate than friends. Some of your batchmates considered you two in relationship four years ago but now you two are not in college. You are two mature people who know their relationship is just friendship.

Jungkook had a quite few relationship back in college but no stayed more than few months because all his girlfriends were not able to take the close proximity of you two.. But with his current girlfriend. His relationship seemed quite serious. It's been a year now to relationship. His gf is pretty , nice, hot. She is all you can never be, she seems to get along with all yours and jungkook's friend. But with you case was different she rarely talked to you. Even didn't liked you being near jungkook. . And you knew one day this could be a reason for jungkook to choose between you two.... Well it looked like he chose! Not you but her.

Your eyes dart towards the mirror, hanging on the pale lilac wall of your bedroom. Photographs of the two of you are splattered around the mirror, many from childhood of just the two of you. He’s the one person who could read you like a book studied a thousand times over, edges folded from the constant turn of each page. Now it’s as if the book has lost its meaning, forgotten somewhere on a shelf in the corner, dust piled upon it as the sheets slowly deteriorate.. He turned cold .

. Back when you where teenagers. There was nothing more you wanted because you had it all good grades, a best friend and his constant comfort. So you never considered making more close friends of your. All friends you have now are all who jungkook usually hangs out with when not with you.

You never even had a boyfriend. Cause first you didn't think you needed a one, and second most of the boys liked staying alway from you as they found jungkook threatening. But now when you felt jungkook abandoning you. You somehow felt the need for a boyfriend , a lover, a partner who would be by your side and comfort you no matter what.

Okay., so now is the time for you to get laid and ignore all the emptiness you feel. Time for you to let go or even lose your virginity.......

( part 2 : -

[bizarrelittlemew]

going down (with the ship)

[ explicit, s1e4 canon-divergent, Ed/Stede, ao3 ]

"It's September 1st, boss." "What's that, mate?" "It's September the 1st." "Dickfuck, no it's not."

Turns out it is. Dickfucking damnit.

And now Ed is lying spread out on the sofa in the captain's cabin, drinking brandy straight from the bottle and waiting for the sea to take him. At least it's some damn smooth brandy. All things considered, not the worst thing to be the last thing to taste on this Earth.

Unless—

Well. Ever since seeing him naked when they switched clothes earlier, Ed had kinda started to hope that he'd get a taste of Stede Bonnet at some point. Hadn't planned on bringing it up this early, though. He hasn't even had time to plan how he'd go about that. And he likes a good plan.

But plans have already betrayed him tonight, and if they're going down with the ship anyway, what's the harm in asking?

Now he just needs a smooth opener.

"Have you ever tried fellatio?"

Or, like, dive right in.

Stede looks up. Looks somewhere between surprised, bemused, and curious, but not horrified. That's something.

"You mean sucking dick?"

"Whuh—" Ed nearly chokes on that, like he'd like to choke on—anyway, he clears his throat. Did not expect that from this fancy man. Promising, though. "I mean, yeah. Yep. Or like, getting your dick sucked."

"Can't say I have, no. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Unfortunately."

They let that hang in the air for a bit, just looking at each other.

"Well... uhm. Do you wanna?" Real smooth, Teach.

Stede's lips curl into a slightly nervous but mostly excited smile.

"I guess there's no time like the present."

"Not much time at all, mate."

And the nervousness completely dissipates, replaced by sheer eagerness as Stede nearly trips over himself in his haste to get out of his arm chair, falls to the floor, walks on his knees to Ed's side, and starts unbuttoning the fall front on his breeches before Ed can catch up to what is happening.

"Wow, hey, I meant—you know what, never mind." Ed is not going to protest if Stede really wants to suck his dick, even if he imagined it the other way around, and damn, it seems that Stede really, really wants to suck his dick. He wonders if all fancy, rich lads are this hungry for cock. Maybe that's why they're like that.

Maybe not. Ed gets a feeling that Stede is different.

Different from anyone else who has ever touched Ed's dick before, too, and oh god, Stede is touching—licking his dick, sucking the head into his mouth and moaning, going at it as if Ed's cock contains the secret that might save them all if only Stede can suck it out.

Ed groans and buries his fingers into Stede's hair just as he starts bobbing his head, making up for any lack of finesse with pure enthusiasm, and okay, Ed is more than a bit bitter about this being his last night alive, because if this is Stede's baseline, Ed would've liked to be along for the ride while Stede developed his skill to its full potential.

Too bad that it will all be ending too soon—their lives, and the glorious experience of stuffing Stede's face full of his cock, because the way Stede closes his eyes and sucks around him is rapidly drawing Ed closer to the edge.

He only just manages to warn Stede before he comes, tries tugging at his hair to let him know he might want to pull off, but Stede just hums with encouragement and takes him deeper.

If this is to be his last orgasm, he might have found peace with his fate.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Ed slumps, staring up at the ceiling, then takes a swig of the bottle still in the hand he isn't using to pet Stede's head. He is just about ready for the sea to swallow him up like Stede just swallowed him down.

And yet.

Ed got a good look at Stede's equipment earlier, and he's still determined to get the close-up experience. Also, there is a sizeable bulge at the front of Stede's—Ed's—pants, and if Stede comes in his leathers, it will sort of suck to clean them up later. In case there is a 'later', if they somehow miraculously escape this.

"Alright, c'mere." Ed pats his chest.

"What?"

"Come up here, fuck my face."

"Are you—what?" Stede looks like one big question mark, but despite that, he is already climbing onto the sofa above Ed, knees on either side of his shoulders.

"C'mon, we don't have much time."

Stede opens the fall front, letting his cock spring free. Ed licks his lips.

"Maybe I can choke to death on cock before the Spanish get me."

"Let's try to avoid that, shall we?"

Ed is not sure he agrees, and shows it by grabbing Stede's hips and shoving him forward, taking in as much as he can of it in one go, which turns out to be half of it. Stede's yelp turns into a groan, and he quickly gets the picture, soon thrusting into Ed's mouth with rough abandon. He turns out to be even more of a natural at face-fucking than cock-sucking.

Yup, this is a much better last thing to taste (and fill his throat). Only surpassed by the last last thing, the taste of Stede as he coats his tongue with come. Ed doesn't even get emotional over the sweet things Stede babbles as he comes, all while stroking Ed's cheek with his thumb.

Okay, maybe he gets a little emotional. Mostly sad that he doesn't have time to do this, like, five hundred times more. At least.

As Stede sits heavily on Ed's chest, catching his breath, still mumbling something, Ed blinks and turns his head to the side. Catches sight of the thing Stede had been sitting with in the chair, the thing he dropped in his rush to get on his knees by Ed's side.

"What's that painting?"

[delulujuls]

emotional support rivals | ls18, sp11

hi! i dont know how to comment on this one, basically i thought that i would try to tame sergio and lance a bit because i know that some people may not like them as much. but they did pretty well here!

anyway, enjoy!

summary: reader is having the worst day of her life aka first day of her period, lance and sergio dont know how to act but they tryna be supportive

warnings: none i think

pairing: lance stroll x fem!mclarendriver x sergio perez

This day was terrible. And that was it.

But you might ask, how could a day be terrible when it hadn't even had a chance to start? Y/N just felt in her bones that this would be the case. She also knew her current schedule of duties, which considering the current jetlag that weighed heavily on her mind, added quite a bit to her already full plate.

Of course, days like these were allowed to exist; balance in life was the norm. Nevertheless, Y/N fervently wished for this one to, as soon as possible, come to an end.

Unfortunately, a quick end was out of the question, as her alarm had just rung. She struggled to open her sleepy eyes and saw the gloomy 6:30 on her phone's display.

She sighed and sat up in bed, feeling an unpleasant sensation in her stomach. She was familiar with this feeling and it signaled one thing and one thing only.

"Oh no, it can't be."

Y/N muttered under her breath and quickly reached for her phone, opening one of the apps. The notification confirmed her worst fear. "Your period may start today!"

"Fantastic, just fucking fantastic."

In a already bad mood, she tossed her phone into the pillows and got up with a symphony of groans, sighs and curses. As soon as she got out of bed she checked the sheets but the snowy white fabric assured her that today would be a one big roulette of waiting for her period to start.

When she showered and got ready to leave, she also packed her emergency kit for days like this. She had to use it partially though, because the pain in her stomach was simply unbearable. And it wasn't the typical stomach ache that everyone thinks of when they hear 'oh no, my stomach hurts' but this stomach pain was the Lance Stroll of all stomach pains. It doesn't seem to hurt too much, but it spoils your whole mood with its terrible nature.

Since talking about Stroll, it happened like that she still had practice laps that day, which she failed to pass while everyone else did. As it turned out, the same task was waiting for Lance, because in the cafeteria, apart from the busy employees, there was him. And that damn Mexican, too.

"What time are you supposed to be on the track?"

Checo asked from behind her when she was grabbing breakfast from one of the swedish tables.

"What happened to 'hi, good morning'? 'Buenos dias,' at least?"

She muttered, pouring syrup on her pancakes.

"Normally you don't talk to me, so I figured there's no point in trying."

He replied, somewhat thrown off by her response.

"Hello Sergio, nice to see you too and yes, it just happens that we're stuck with each other today. I'm on at 10am, you're ahead of me at 9, and that Aston idiot is at 11."

Y/N said sarcastically, putting on the nicest tone she could muster.

Sergio didn't know how to respond, so when she turned to leave for her table, he simply stepped out of her way.

Lance ate in silence, observing the scene quietly. He was watching the McLaren sun, today completely covered by stormy clouds, going away and sitting alone. Inadvertently his gaze met with Checo, who just shook his head and returned to choosing his breakfast.

Y/N sighed heavily, sitting at one of the empty seats. She ate absentmindedly, not used to the absence of Oscar and Lando. They had different things to attend to that day, so it wasn't unlikely that they wouldn't even cross paths. Maybe it was even better for them; each of them would probably receive a monthly dose of sulking. The charms of being the only girl in the company could be really tough at times.

And it's not that Y/N was a pain in the ass only for Oscar and Lando. She got along well with most people she interacted with daily. A few times she even went out with other girls; she wasn't limiting herself to the company of guys only. Unfortunately, Oscar and Lando had happened to take a particular liking to each other, which made the trio basically unseparable.

There were people with whom she didn't have frequent contact, or with whom she only exchanged smiles in passing but she had never had the chance to exchange a word.

It's also known that in life you can't be liked by everyone and not everyone can be liked by you. In this case, there was no magical exception. It just so happened that she would spend today in the company of those people who sat at the other end of the cafeteria, occasionally throwing her stolen glances.

After finishing her meal, the girl got down to her duties, wanting to bring this day to an end as quickly as possible. At the appointed time, she appeared on the track, quickly changing into her racing suit. She put on her helmet and after a brief discussion of notes, she sat in the car. That's when she felt that something was wrong. The worst-case scenario flashed before her eyes.

"Can I quickly go to the bathroom?"

She asked, looking at the technician nearest to her.

"We're a bit behind schedule. Can it wait?"

Y/N resignedly nodded. She knew there was nothing left to salvage.

She adjusted her straps and when she got the signal to leave the garage, she drove outside and headed straight for the track. After the radio test and receiving permission to start, she clenched her fists and roared the engine.

She was angry and as it's known, there's nothing worse than a female rage.

She was angry at this day, at herself, at this damn car. She was angry at the bloodstain on her damn orange suit, even though she hadn't seen it yet.

She was so hormonal that if it weren't for the helmet restricting her movements, she would have screamed at the top of her lungs.

However, female anger was priceless.

"Best lap time, I repeat, best lap time."

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, not responding to the message.

In moments like this, she didn't care about anything. And it's pretty well known that a person who doesn't care has nothing to lose.

When the session ended and she received the message that she could pull into the pit lane, she complied. Mechanics rolled her into the garage and only then did it dawn on her that her hands were still clenched on the steering wheel. When she managed to free herself from the car, she immediately checked her seat. She cursed under her breath and took off her helmet, placing it aside. Quickly grabbing the nearest rag, she began to wipe away the stain of shame on her seat. The technician, whom she asked about going to the bathroom before the start, when he realized what had happened and what she was doing, just gave her an apologetic look.

She unzipped her suit and slid its top off, covering the stain on her backside. Zac wanted to congratulate her on the result and discuss the outcomes, but she apologized and grabbed her emergency kit, heading straight to the bathroom. She changed into her unstained clothes, guarded against another unpleasant surprise and bundled up the suit, muttering under her breath that a visit to the laundry awaited her later that day.

When she returned to the McLaren garage, Zac, upon seeing her, immediately smiled.

"Young lady, you charmed us today! You literally flew in that car!"

"I guess that's good, I think."

The girl replied, mustering a smile as she glanced at the monitors in front of her.

"Good? It's brilliant!"

Zac replied with a smile and checked his notes.

"After checking the car, I would ask you to put on your suit again for a moment because we need to do a few more laps on different tires."

"I thought that was it for today."

Y/N replied, looking at him.

"Now, you were driving on mediums; it would be good to know what time you can achieve on the hard compound."

The girl tightened her suit under her armpit.

"But—"

She started, but it felt silly, so she lowered her voice and approached him, "My suit is not suitable."

"How so? What happened?"

He frowned and looked at the bundle she was holding.

"I won't be able to drive in it anymore today."

Zac looked confused, so she just said "period" without using any words. He quickly understood and immediately nodded his head.

"Ask someone if we have another suit in stock. It would mean a lot to me if we could finish these tests today."

Y/N nodded and walked away, sighing heavily when she was out of his reach. However, as it turned out, racing suits are not as straightforward as one might think and the only McLaren suit in this garage was hers—rolled up into a ball of shame and unfit for use. One of the women upon hearing her situation only gave her a comforting hug and suggested borrowing a suit from Sergio or Lance, taking advantage of the fact that they were only drivers nearby. The situation was exceptional and it was all about internal measurements.

Disheartened by the fact that she would be forced to confront the men, she left the garage and looked around. Checo and Lance were sitting nearby, chatting in front of the Aston Martin garage. Y/N gathered herself and approached them, causing them to immediately pause their conversation.

"Can I borrow a suit from either of you?"

"You drive for McLaren, not for Aston or Red Bull."

Sergio said, taking a sip from his bottle. The girl involuntarily clenched her fists. Be professional, she thought and took a deep breath.

"If I didn't have to, I wouldn't ask. I need a suit; mine... is not suitable for driving."

"What happened?"

Lance asked, glancing at her. His expression lacked the hint of malice that Sergio currently possessed.

"I just need one; is that not enough?"

"Give a good reason and I might even give you mine."

Pérez said, crossing his arms.

"I just got my period which means my suit is having a fucking bloodstain on my ass and even though I feel like they're cutting me in half completely alive I have to do some extra laps because this fucking fat idiot didn't think about pitstop to change my tyres and let me go straight to the track" Y/N she spoke quietly and calmly, but her voice was dripping with fury "So do me the pleasure and let one of you give me your overalls before something hits me, for fucks sake."

Lance and Sergio stood still. Sergio's face lost its fierce expression and Lance suddenly realized that he had started holding his breath out of stress.

"I'll give you mine, no problem."

Stroll spoke up, starting to unzip his suit.

"Yours is light, you idiot; if something happens again, everything will be visible."

Pérez scolded him and turned his gaze back to the girl.

"Wait a moment; I'll bring you mine right away."

Y/N nodded and watched him leave.

"Do you feel very bad?"

Lance asked, looking at her. He couldn't wrap his head around how the girl standing in front of him, bleeding and all, could endure such a great strain and still set the best lap time.

"It's been better."

She sighed.

Lance, not knowing exactly what to do or how to help, reached out his hand with a bottle in it. Y/N looked at the bottle first and then at his face. Seeing that he was genuinely concerned, she whispered a quiet 'thanks' and took the water from him.

Sergio returned shortly after, handing her his suit.

"I hope it'll fit well for you."

The girl handed back Lance his water and thanked Pérez as well.

"Good luck, tigresa."

Y/N nodded at them one last time and returned to the garage, changing into the borrowed suit and taking her place in the car again.

As she sat there, waiting for permission to leave the pit lane, she noticed that she wasn't angry anymore, at least not as much as she was some time ago. When she drove out and headed towards the track, she passed Lance and Sergio once again, who were giving her thumbs up.

For the first time that day Y/N genuinely smiled and who would have thought it would be thanks to her rivals, who had now become her emotional support ones?

[hanasnx]

something something about cringefail loser mordecai having this fantasy about anal and something something about him finally getting the chance

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: the header is from @/teefumz on tiktok and instagram. i couldn’t find anything about their rules on reposts used for personal reasons such as this which is why i really stress go check out the original artist on their platforms linked. WARNINGS: human!mordecai | situationship | fwbs | explicit sexual content | doggy style | porn references | anal penetration.

MORDECAI’s never tried it before. His lack of sexual experience speaks for itself, but you’ve also never brought it up. You’ve been hooking up with him for a while now, and you had no idea the amount of times he’s stared at your little asshole and bit his lip so hard it broke the skin. He wants it bad, and you dangle it in front of him every time you bend over.

He’s not disappointed with pussy, he just can’t help but gravitate towards the unknown. The porn holes he’s fallen down where pro pornstars take two or three dicks in the seemingly elastic and bottomless room of their assholes makes him itch to try it out. A pussy is great, but he’s gotta try anal. At least once.

On the forefront of his thoughts for weeks, he’s at his limits of waiting. Every time you meet up he’s considering bringing it up, but it just never occurs organically. He’s not sure what to say. At one point he nearly spilled it when you’d asked him how his coffee was to make conversation, all the while he was nailing down his tongue in his mouth to keep from blurting out the phrase, “I wanna fuck your ass.”

He wants to fuck your ass, over and over and over again. He wants to creampie the fuck out of it, let it ooze out of you in spurts when your hole contracts.

To his surprise, he’s not the one to ask about it first. Bent over in front of him with your back arched low, you’re offering yourself to him, “Wanna put it in my ass? C’mon, you know you want to.” voice breathless and sultry, clutching the covers as you let him decide. His agape mouth quivers, unable to form a sentence as his brain spans a million things at once.

“Fuck yes, I do.” he can’t say it fast enough, eager enough. Straightening up to fix a palm on your asscheek, mounting you when the head of his cock brushes the puckered lips of your hole. You’ve done this before, he hasn’t, and he can’t believe you just volunteered it like that. Aren’t girls supposed to be chaste with this sort of thing? He doesn’t know, but it’s best not to question it.

His long fingers wrap around his shaft, giving it a few sticky pumps as he humps his hips forward, easing the tip in. Out of inexperience, he goes a touch too fast, so you hiss and order him to take his time. He mutters an apology, pulling out only to do it again. Over and over, centimeter by centimeter, he takes his time. As soon as he feels it wrap around the head of him, he feels fit to burst right then. It’s a completely different texture than a cunt. Its moisture comes solely from lube, and it’s tougher going in. But the tightness is on another level.

His eyes close, head lulling back as he relaxes with a low groan vibrating from his throat. You rub your cheek on the mattress, whimpering as you rock back on him in tiny motions, letting the pleasure loosen you up until he bottoms out. His balls brush your folds, wet and leaking while his dick takes a turn in your asshole. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut to concentrate on anything other than where his cock is right now. “This is too good, this is way too fucking good. Fuck—I might bust.”

[suugarbabe]

You are SO amazing love, never let anyone tell you any different. I WILL fight them 😤

Tysm for considering wolfstar!daughter, i think youd enjoy the current fics that are currently out for it. Most of them are x fred or george and it just reminds me of you everytime.

Sorry, this is probs going to be long 😬

For the prompt though, i imagine they came about reader when remus found her on a full moon as a toddler werewolf, abandond in the forest (last yr hogwarts or graduated doesnt matter, whatever you decide) and when Sirius finally finds Remus the next morning he's shocked, confused, and then melts. Big, tall, broard Remus has this small bundle of cuteness wrapped in his sweater trying to cuddle into him.

Whether youd like to continue on from there or do reader growing up or a time skip is up to you. Same as if James dies or not, whatever your brilliant mind decides 🧡 but if it helps this is how i see the family dynamic:

I think Sirius would be the overprotective kind of dad, never failing with that wonderful sense of dramatics!

While Remus is the calm voice of reason that talks himself down when he feels like he might be going a little overboard.

Of course we're Uncle Reggies little star, he will be mean to another child if they hurt you. He and James are constantly arguing over who's the better uncle.

James is the uncle that gives you alcohol illegally and doesnt adhere to a curfew.

So skip to hogwarts in some of the last years (im a ravenclaw so i always imagine reader as a ravenclaw but anyhouse would be fun to explore) and reader makes it official with Theo or Enzo. Harry's a tattle tale and tells his dad who then brags to Reggie, who the apparats him self the Sirius' to demand answers because "who was this vile thing that dared touch his star?? Boyfriend?!?! Fucking over his dead body!!" Fully expecting Sirius to agree with him. But he doesnt, he just sighs because at least they made it til 6th/7th yr before boys started, he'll give the poor boy a chance first. And then Remus bursts in and has a full meltdown. Thats his little wolf; his baby. She can have a boyfriend. A BOYFRIEND!?! He might puke. No this isnt allowed. Boys are gross. And nasty. And theyre going to hurt her. But not before he hurts them!! He's going to put the fear of godric into this boy! RIGHT NOW!! Wheres his wand? He needs to go to Hogwarts.

Its so unexpected that both Black brothers are frozen. Until Remus starts searching for his wand and Sirius has to calm him down while Regulus goads him on. And through all of it, reader and Enzo/Theo were standing at the door to 'meet the parents'.

And then however you want it to go from there love! So sorry that was soo long and rambely. Of couese no pressure to write it and take whatever creative liberties youd like!!

Thank you love x

The group had made an agreement that the girls would all get a flat together, as would the boys. So naturally Sirius, James and Remus planned and found one for themselves that was 'absolutely perfect' as Sirius put it since it back right up to a large patch of woods; 'Perfect for you, Moony'.

In the moment Remus had rolled his eyes, but truly he was thankful. By the last full moon of school, Remus had managed to transform back to himself without completely passing out. After the fourth full moon in the flat, Remus was able to still decently function after his transformations.

What neither Sirius nor James expected happened and they didn't know how to react initially. Sirius and James had lost sight of Remus toward the end of the night, now both transformed back to themselves looking for him.

When Sirius found him, he didn't expect the scene he walked upon. Remus shoulders were hunched over, and at first Sirius thought he was crying. But the closer he got, he realized it was not Remus making those noises, but...a child?

"Moony...what the bloody hell is that," Sirius voice was cautious, he was still convinced he might be hallucinating.

Remus turned around slowly, "She's like me, Pads. She...she was a tiny little wolf, I swear it." Sirius was skeptical, but the way Remus was looking down at you, every doubt was melting away. The way your tiny hands gripped on to Remus's sweater.

When Sirius got close enough, you reached out for him, and he was done for. When James caught up with the pair he had the same initial reaction. But like Sirius, one look at you and he was also convinced.

It had taken the girls no time to swoon after you, and the boys were forever grateful. While Remus declared himself your father (Sirius demanding his was Dad number 2). James became your fun uncle (funcle as he called himself, Lily rolling her eyes each time).

To say it had taken a village was not just a cliché, but reality. Sirius was every over protective father, having a flair for the dramatics any time anything happened, good or bad. Remus was more calm, essentially the voice of reason when Sirius was talking circles. You eventually became the perfect mix of the two, which they both loved.

When you got your Hogwarts letter Sirius threw a party, Remus thinking it was a little over the top but Sirius insisted, "Our little star got her letter, we're celebrating Moony." Regulus had brought you off to the side, insisting you owl him if anyone is mean to you, he'll come and fix it, "Even if it's another little twat kid, you let me know, okay Star?"

After fourth year, James let you try his beer for the first time. Sirius lost his mind, Remus reminded Sirius how much worse he was at your age and that if James was letting her try it that it was a better situation than he used to get in to.

What you didn't expect was the commotion that ensued during Christmas holiday seventh year. It was tradition for you and your dads to throw a party on Christmas Eve. You were putting the final touches on the Christmas biscuits you usually made when a loud pop sounded in the living room.

"SIRIUS GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE NOW!" The voice of Regulus rang throughout your house and you instantly froze. Sirius sauntered in, not bothered by his younger brothers tone, "Seriously, with the shouting Reg, what is it now?"

Regulus looked over Sirius shoulder at you in the kitchen before turning back to his brother, "How could you let her, huh? How could you let her do this, with a Slytherin no less? My little star? Who is this vile snake you've let touch our little girl, a boyfriend, Sirius, really?"

You held your breath, fully expecting your dad to lose it, go full on dramatics, but instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose, "Honestly, Reg, calm down. I'm surprised it took us till seventh year for her to finally decide to get a boyfriend, don't get me wrong, I'm thankful," he turned pointing at you, "but I trust her, Reg. And you should too. She's not like us. Really though, darling, a Slytherin?"

Sirius turned to face you and all you could muster was a shrug of your shoulders before your father burst in. "WHAT did I just hear? My wolf has a WHAT? With a WHO? Darling are you mad, who is this boy? A boyfriend? Oh my Godric, I think I'm going to be sick. Who is he, star? Who, tell me now. I'm getting my wand. Sirius, my wand now."

Remus held out his hand expectantly, but nothing happened. Both Regulus and Sirius stood frozen, mouths agape at Remus's reaction before a sly smirk crawled its way onto Sirius's features, "Oh my my, Moony, this is a sight."

At that moment the Potter's all appeared, the air obviously thick with tension. James looked between his friends, "Oi, what did we miss?"

When you saw Harry you were instantly enraged, your inherant traits from Sirius coming in to play, "You little fucking rat, you weasel, you knew I was going to tell them over break, how could you tell Reggie before I could tell my parents, I'll hex you Potter, I swear it!"

You started after Harry, only for James's strong arms to lift you up by the waist and hold you tight, "Woah there, mini Sirius, calm down. I think this might be my fault. Harry told me out of concern and I might have boasted about your feats to Reggie."

You went slump in your Uncle's grasp, "Uncle Jamie...how could you." You were pouting as he sat you down, giving you a tight hug, "I'm sorry, star, I was just so dang proud of you."

You looked over at your parents, Sirius now rubbing Remus's back who was pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a knock on the door, causing everyone's attention to switch towards the distrubance.

Walking towards the door, you looked back with your hand on the handle, "Be nice." The marauders and Harry held up their hands in defense, Regulus crossed his, "No promises."

When you opened the door, Enzo stood there, cheeks slightly pink. "Erm, are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" You laughed slightly out of embarrassment, "How much did you hear exactly?"

"Enough to know I'm more afraid of Professor Lupin than Sirius," he whispered as he followed you through the door.

"Dad, Father, this is Enzo. My boyfriend," You gestured toward Enzo who gave a shy wave.

Remus placed his hand on his own chest, "Oh thank god it's Berkshire. I was really worried, star dear. Really worried. Thought maybe it was going to be the Nott boy."

This caused both you and Enzo to laugh, Enzo speaking up finally, "Merlin, no, sir. Nott's afraid of Y/n actually. So you've done a good job."

"Don't start kissing ass just yet, Berkshire," Regulus stuck a finger out at the boy.

"Uncle Reggie. Behave," you scolded him like a child, he looked down at the floor like one, too.

Sirius stepped forward, extending his hand, "So sorry, my boy. I'm Sirius, Y/n's father. You've met Moony, erm, Professor Lupin, her dad. He's sorry for anything you may have heard through the door."

Enzo grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly, "It's alright, sir. It's a pleasure to meet the men who've raised such a strong woman." Enzo smiled at you affectionately, causing you to blush in front of your family.

"Look at that, Moons. Our little star is growing up," Sirius wiped a faked fear, while Remus was holding back real ones.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose like your dad had done earlier, "Alright, who's hungry, hmm? Shall we eat?" You led Enzo towards the large table. Everyone followed suit, both Regulus and Remus grumbling slightly.

As you sat down, Enzo gave your thigh a squeeze. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, "Star, huh? That's cute." You side-eyed him, giving him a slight glare, "You tell anyone, you're a dead man."

Enzo grinned to himself, "It'd be an honor to die by your hands, love."

Across the table, Sirius gave Remus's thigh a squeeze, "She's growing up, Moons. Our little star." Remus nodded, pouring himself some brandy, "That she is, Pads. Our little wolf is a woman now." Sirius scoffed, "She still needs us though right?" Remus nodded, smiling, "We'll always be there for her."

[whirlwindwonderland]

What do you like about Princess Tutu (as someone who only knows the name)? What made you enjoy it?

Oh boy.

Okay so Princess Tutu is one of my favourite ever stories. And if I were to list everything I liked about it we'd be here long enough for you to actually go watch the show yourself.

Which you should do.

Because it's awesome.

But to sort of sum up my feelings... I like Princess Tutu because of how it chooses to tell its story. Every story is told a specific way for a specific reason, and Princess Tutu chooses the medium of a Magical Girl Anime about Ballet to tell a story about Love, Hope, and Willpower triumphing over Tragedy and Despair.

That's fucking genius.

It plays its premise completely straight. There's no subversive takes on the magical girl genre here. No turning to wink and laugh at the camera to try and save face. It's completely earnest, plays its tropes completely straight, and makes it all work together, and it all serves the main themes of the story.

You can really get a good summary of this in the main character Ahiru.

Because Ahiru, in the general space of the magical girl anime genre, is not an outlier from what I can tell. She's kind and she's sweet and she's a clumsy, and her power comes from her empathy and her love of others. There's a lot of characters like her.

But Ahiru is different because all of these things- Her empathy, her kindness, her silliness and innocence and clumsiness and big open heart, they all serve the themes of the story. Because when the main villain, the big bad, the thing you have to stand against, is a seemingly inescapable force of fate, pulling you down the path of tragedy, it takes a special kind of truly indomitable soul to fight back.

See, this is a magical girl anime built around the stories of ballet, and a neat thing that many don't know about ballet is that a solid 75% of what's considered the 'Classics' of the medium are tragedies. Swan Lake, Giselle, Romeo and Juliet, and La Sylphide are all referenced in the show proper, with Swan Lake and Romeo and Juliet being referenced particularly often. The overarching Villain of the story could be said to be this conceptual tragedy that Ballet seems so enamoured with.

But by applying the fixings of the magical girl genre to this tragedy, approaching this idea of roles in life being fixed like the roles on a stage, of working towards helping someone you love knowing that the result will ultimately be your demise, with the attitude of "I'm going to fix this problem with the power of love and friendship". you get a really interesting story.

Over and over again, Ahiru sees dangerous situations, and reaches out with a kind hand to help those involved. Over and over again, she succeeds. Over and over again, Ahiru almost falls in the face of the despair of her situation. And over and over again, her own kindness comes back to help her, as the people she's befriended come to her side, to support her, to catch her when she falls, and to give her the openings she needs to solve the problems.

Despite being told that her life is meant to be a footnote on the stories of others, that her role is one no one else would take because no one else would want it, that she can never share the love she feels with others, because to do so would literally kill her. Ahiru continuously chooses love. She never becomes bitter to her situation, and continuously chooses to do what she thinks is right, to be kind, to care, and to try to help, and it is this unfailing kindness that, in the end, forces the genre of the story around her to change.

By being unflinchingly and unfailingly herself in the face of adversity and a story that wants her to suffer, she inspires others to want to help her succeed. And in doing that, she forces a grand, cyclical tragedy, to finally resolve with a happy ending.

It's such a clever and beautiful marriage of two different storytelling mediums, and that's just the basics of what you can talk about with the protagonist. The rest of the cast is equally as interesting, and I love them all so very much.

I love stories about storytelling, stories about the triumph of hope, and stories about love and friendship, and Princess Tutu is all of the above. I honestly cannot recommend it enough, it's one of my favourite things ever.

Also it's hilarious. Where else am I going to get a cat ballet teacher that repeatedly threatens his students with marriage if they don't improve at ballet? Or a girl in a donkey costume delivering love notes all around the school? Or... Femio? Just Femio in general???

Great show. Go watch it.

[freak-accident419]

Double Derek

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: You spend time with your boyfriend, Derek, before he would leave for a week-long business trip away from home. As a joke, you propose that you should purchase a ‘Clone a Willy’ kit, in case you miss him during his absence. But Derek wasn’t truly against the idea.

Word Count: 4.3k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, mentions of sex toys (they’re literally making one), raunchiness, slightly OOC Derek, too many damn time skips, more plot than porn, the silliness is more prominent in the beginning but not so much the smut, penetration (unspecified genitals for reader)

(A/n: thankyou thankyou so much to @g0ry0re0 for proofreading, you are literally a lifesaver ilysm. thank you for everyone’s support and anticipation for this fic, you all keep me going ❤️ enjoy!!)

-

“Uhh… ‘CBD-infused intimate oil,’” Derek reads off the box in a curious mutter, turning it around to examine the product and its written features. Then he looked at you with a knowing grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement, chuckling under your breath as you watched the imminent purchase remain inside of your boyfriend’s grasp.

You and Derek, since being in a relationship of nearly three years, had always found several ways to spice things up in your sex life. The two of you experimented with almost everything in the book, be it edging, near exhibitionism, toys, food play, etc. And of course, while romantic relationships overall meant way more than just the sex, your sex life with him was just too incredible to ignore. Jesus, you could go on and on for days about how amazing the sex was.

Therefore, it wasn’t unusual at all to find the two of you inside of an adult store. Sure, you mostly bought your things online, but since you two were already out and the shop was nearby, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in. Plus, the other times you went to the in-person stores were quite beneficial; you were able to see certain sizings of different products and got the necessary and helpful advice from the clerks there.

You and Derek had continued to browse through the raunchy products as you walked down each aisle together. And while the two of you were almost in your thirties, absolutely nothing could deter you two from giggling at some of the ridiculous things sold there. This time, however, you suddenly stopped in your tracks and opened your mouth in complete awe once your eyes had laid upon it.

“Holy fucking shit!” You blurted as you instantly grabbed the tube-shaped box from the shelf in front of you:

‘(GLOW IN THE DARK) CLONE-A-WILLY: THE IN-HOME PENIS MOLDING KIT

MAKE A VIBRATING SILICONE REPLICA OF ANY PENIS (EASY TO MAKE)’

“Is this actually—?” Derek nearly snatches it from you with a fascinated scoff, reading over the description on the packaging. “What the fuck? Do—do people actually do this?”

“Of course they do, I see them, like, everywhere!” You cackled, trying to steal back the box from his grasp. It wasn’t the first time you’ve ever seen it, but it does surprise you every damn time that you do.

“Okay, okay, so… So if I’m getting this right, you could basically make an entire fuckin’ dildo at home… by molding somebody else’s or your own dick?” He raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Yeah, pretty much,” you wheeze, nodding at him until your smile grew wider in sudden realization. “Shit, baby, you’d take ‘go fuck yourself’s to a whole new level!”

“What the hell, Y/n?” He chuckled, trying not to burst out into any more insufferable laughter, “okay, first of all, who would—Why the fuck would I want to use a replica of my own fucking dick on myself? Like, if anything, it’s you who should be taking it.”

“Hey, you can’t just say that!” You hissed playfully, still smiling from the entire situation you found yourselves in. Suddenly, however, your eyes widened insightfully from an absurd epiphany you just had.

“Wait,” you began. “I mean… You do have a point, considering that your trip is coming up already… Holy shit, imagine that! While you’re going to be gone for a whole fuckin’ week, I could always use this weird clone shit on myself whenever I’m horny! Hell, it’s perfect since you’ve been going to so many business trips lately!” You joked exuberantly before letting out a delighted sigh. “Jesus, baby, this is so ridiculous…”

Chuckling to yourself, you placed the box back on the shelf, prompting a perplexed gaze from Derek—or rather, as he stared at it, a gaze of deep contemplation. You recognized this damn shit-faced look of his. After all, you’ve known him for years.

“Derek—” you began skeptically.

“Hold on, I’m thinking,” he interjects with a thoughtful finger to his chin before a sudden and mischievous smirk appears at his lips. “You know, that actually isn’t a bad idea.”

Completely dumbfounded and taken aback, you raised a suspecting eyebrow. “Wait. You’re not actually considering… I mean, I was just joking around earlier, I wasn’t actually being serious—”

“I know, but think about it, babe! I mean, hell, you even said it yourself! Every time you feel… needy while I’m out, especially on my long business trips, you could always, well… you know,” he grinned darkly, glancing toward the ridiculous sex toy, “and if you want, I could even call you while you—”

“Shush!” You hissed with a slight laugh. “Holy fuck, you’re actually turned on by this freaky shit, aren’t you?!” It was actually quite hypocritical of you to call him out like that, as you tried to push your own feelings of arousal to the side. “I mean, I’d be down, but… Are you actually being for real right now?”

He scoffs at your remarks, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I mean… I’d be lying if I said that the thought of you being that desperate for my cock wouldn’t turn me on.”

“Really? You’re kidding.” You gasp in utter disbelief. Frankly, you never would’ve expected Derek to be into this kind of stuff, even knowing firsthand that he could be pretty extreme. It was most likely the fact that it was a ‘penis molding kit’ that caught you off guard when your boyfriend genuinely considered it. “You’re actually—Because like, while I was joking, you know, I actually still wanted to get it, but I didn’t know if you were down, or—”

“Babe, this might be the weirdest yet sexiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever thought of us doing. Of course I’m down.”

***

After bringing home the very ‘unique’ product the two of you purchased from the adult store, you and Derek had set up in the spacious kitchen of his (which was technically yours too, since you practically lived with him now). With all of your necessary supplies laid out on the counter as well as the kit’s included materials, you made it to the fifth step together. The counter’s surface was crowded with measuring cups, bowls, and the other required items as Derek’s lower half had been completely naked to prepare for the molding process. He was actually already jerking off vacantly, a cock ring against the base of his dick to keep him as hard as he could be for the mold.

“Oh my god, I can’t stop thinking about that,” you chuckle as you began to stir the mix of water with the kit’s included molding powder. “That was so fucking hilarious!”

“You’d think that—” Derek scoffs in amusement, practically interrupting himself. “When the cashier said I looked familiar, you’d think that she would’ve mentioned Danforth Enterprises or, hell, even my mom, right? But she thought—she fucking said—”

“Robby Apples!” You nearly cackle, continuing to mix the bowl’s contents after setting a timer for a minute, “She thought you were a fuckin’ porn star!”

“I—” he scoffs with a wide, amused grin on his lips, “Personally? I don’t see it. I don’t think we look alike, like, at all.”

“Right, right,” you chuckle softly, “but it’s the hair. It’s the hair, baby! The curls and stupid frosted tips, I bet that’s why she assumed that!”

“I mean, yeah, but Y/n… I’m way more famous than him. Like, I’m literally CEO of my company—hell, my mother is the President of the United fucking States! Like, how the hell do you mistake me for someone else?! Let alone a fucking porn star!” Derek huffs playfully, surprisingly not too offended by the mix-up. Usually his ego would be heavily bruised whenever someone didn’t recognize him immediately, but he was having way too much fun with you to even be serious about it. And you loved it.

“But, like…” you began with a slight smile, “to be fair, babe, she works at that sex shop. Her mind must be porn over politics.”

“Hey, just because she works at a sex shop doesn’t mean she’s a porn addict.” Derek then raises an eyebrow as he attempts to call you out, “Now that’s just assuming, isn’t it?”

You scowled, yet a small smirk still creeped upon your lips. “You’re talking to me about assuming? You’re—You say that as if you’re not the most judgmental asshole in the fucking world.”

“Ugh, fair point,” Derek shrugged in acceptance and self-awareness, not even bothering to argue because he knew you were right. Then, he paused thoughtfully. “That is a great slogan, though.”

“What, about assumptions?”

“No, ‘porn over politics.’”

“Oh, yes,” you nod with a hint of sarcasm, “The epitome of Derek Danforth.”

“Uh, no,” he scoffs quickly, “money and superiority is the epitome of Derek Danforth.”

You paused with a grimace on your face. “You did not just refer to yourself in the third person.”

“Wh—You do it all the time!” He exclaims.

“Uh, yeah,” you scoff, “ironically!”

Somehow, you didn’t notice until now that Derek was holding his phone in his hand, looking at the screen as he continued to stroke himself to sustain his erection. “Hey, what are you looking at, by the way?”

His eyes went up to you with an innocent, neutral expression. “Uhhh, your nudes.”

“You’re fucking kidding,” you chuckle.

“Uh, no,” he says, turning his phone around in an attempt to show you. “I’m literally going through them right now—”

“No, ew, don’t show me!” You laugh from embarrassment as you looked down at the mixing bowl you stirred, covering the peripheral view with your hand. As sexy as they were to Derek and to you during the time you were taking them, you really couldn’t take them seriously afterwards.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, babe,” he teases knowingly, making you roll your eyes. “You look so hot in them.”

“Dude—Of course I’m fucking embarrassed!” You reasoned, “I thought it was hot until the post-nut fuckin’ clarity kicked in!”

Suddenly, the timer went off as the two of you laughed softly at your last comment. You were then prompted to instantly focus as you turned off the blaring alarm and grabbed the tube closer to yourself on the counter.

“You fully hard, baby?” You ask casually, beginning to pour the white mixture inside of the tube.

“Yup,” he nodded simply, watching you prepare for the molding process.

After you finished pouring in all of the thick molding substance, you grabbed the tube and walked closer to your boyfriend. “Okay, so we’re just molding your dick now, for like, two… two minutes, I think? And you’re just gonna have to stay hard like that and don’t move too much,” you giggle, “I have to act fast, though, because there’s a reason why the water had to be ninety degrees, alright?”

“Alright,” Derek chuckles, “go ahead, babe.”

After setting up a two minute timer on your phone, you slowly placed the tube full of the ‘molding gel’ over his dick, making some of the white, thick substance drip out onto the floor. The two of you already began to cackle, Derek groaning in slight disgust from the weird feeling that the texture of the paste gave him around his cock.

“This is really fuckin’ messy,” he raises an eyebrow as he watches the leftover mixture spill onto the smooth, quartz tiles of the kitchen floor. “And it feels really… really weird around my dick,” Derek laughs softly.

“Well, we were warned about the mess but… damn, I didn’t know it’d be this crazy,” you chuckle, holding the tube in place, allowing you to stand close to Derek’s naked body. “Also, I know what you’re thinking—You’re not allowed to make a joke about how the molding gel resembles your fucking jizz.” Derek frowns immediately as you giggle at his reaction.

Rolling your eyes, you lean in closer to your lover, placing some soft kisses on his bare shoulder and collarbone. You always believed that Derek’s body was so beautiful, and you couldn’t help but show him how much you loved it all the time. “I’m gonna miss you, you know that?” You mumble with your lips pressed against the warm skin of his shoulder.

“Me too, baby,” he sighs softly, “but I’ll be back before you know it, alright?”

“I’m gonna fuck myself so fucking hard with this weird ass thing when you’re gone.”

“Sorry,” you mumble afterwards, realizing what you had blurted caused Derek to become speechless.

Your filthy words had been delivered so bluntly and casually, gaining a low groan from Derek’s throat. “Fuck. You can’t just—Baby, please tell me you’ll get me off after we do this because, fuck, I’ve been so hard for so fucking long and you’re already making things worse with that kind of talk,” he complains, nearly pleading.

“Jeez, I said I was sorry...” Chuckling, you bury your face in his neck affectionately. “Don’t worry, babe, we have so much time after this. You can fuck me as hard as you want.”

“Fuck…” he moaned at the visual you gave him with your words.

Resting your lips contently in the crook of his neck, you let out a small snicker afterwards. “Dude, I can’t get that stupid fucking meme out of my head…”

“What meme?” Derek asked curiously, no longer focusing solely on his arousal he had for you.

“The fuckin’—Your mom, the Jessica Danforth one that they would—”

“Oh, my god,” he scoffs lightly with a smile, amused by recollection of a popular, new internet meme they made of the US President. “But that one is so fucking stupid.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s iconic because your mom is iconic,” you retort playfully, “and those ‘stupid’ memes ended up being genuine, effective marketing strategies towards her campaign.”

Honestly, it was kind of adorable to Derek that you thought that lousy, new generation memes of her was what mainly helped his mother’s campaign. It was less adorable, however, that it wasn’t really the case. If only you knew…

You leaned in, briefly connecting your soft lips with his, appreciating the intimacy of your closeness that this position bestowed upon the two of you. Your kiss had pushed his underlying guilt aside for now, melting in the short moment of sweetness.

“Hey, when can I get this thing off of me?” He asks suddenly once your lips had parted from each other.

You pursed your lips curiously. “Uhh, well, is it hard yet?”

“Baby, my dick has been hard the entire time for this, you know that.”

“No, I meant—” you giggled breathlessly, “I meant the molding gel, has it hardened yet?”

“Well, it feels like it, sort of,” he remarked with a shrug.

“Eh, we can just wait for the full two minutes,” you suggested, prompting that you both should wait until the timer ends.

Soon enough, the two of you had gone through the entire procedure. You removed the tube from Derek’s cock, placing it on the counter as you mixed the silicone packets together to pour that mixture into the mold. Then, you placed the included vibrator inside the tube through the hole of a cardboard cover that rested on the top of the rim to keep it from sinking completely down into the mold.

“We are… done,” you laugh softly, the two of you looking at the tube filled with liquid silicone, most certainly taking the form of Derek’s dick. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but we are going to have to wait, like, twenty-four hours until we can take it out of the mold.”

“Well, shit. I am actually both fucking terrified and excited to see how it’ll end up looking like,” he shrugs with a slight scoff.

“Your dick, but in a glow-in-the-dark green,” you reply with a simple nod. “So… What now?”

A thoughtful yet mischievous grin appears on Derek’s lips as his eyes trail hungrily over your body.

After eagerly stripping your pants and underwear down, Derek lifted you up on the edge of the kitchen table, lips never leaving yours as he kissed you deeply and passionately. He grabbed onto your thigh, lightly gasping at the rough grip as his other hand slipped under your shirt to feel the soft skin of your back. Derek actually used the hemp oil that you two purchased earlier (alongside the Clone-A-Willy), rubbing it over your sensitive groin, then pleasurably lubricating your entrance. “God, I need you so bad, baby,” he mumbles lustfully, pulling your hips closer to the edge of the counter to line himself up with you.

A soft, yet vocal moan escaped your lips as you feel his rock hard, throbbing cock stretching and pushing through your tight, needy hole. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Derek grunts, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you with lust and admiration. And from this heavenly sensation, you had been reminded that he still had that cock ring on.

You giggled immaturely, “you know, I forgot you even had that o—” He moved both his hands to spread open your thighs, trailing back up to grip your hips as he began to slowly thrust inside of you, making you whine as you placed your hands on his shoulders. “D-Derek—” You choke out a moan as he gradually increases his pace, firmly pushing his hips against yours to get as deep inside of you as he could. His cock was so fucking hard, indisputably caused by the pressure of the ring, but also from how much your sole body turned him on.

The two of your moans echoed in the atmosphere of the kitchen, especially as you wrapped your legs tightly around his back, pushing him in even deeper. “Fuck,” you whined softly, feeling one of his hands trail under the back of your shirt again during each heavy thrust until he finally lifts it off of you, throwing the piece of fabric onto the floor.

Your insides had deliciously gripped Derek’s firm cock so tight, withdrawing a low, prolonged groan from his throat as he then picked up the pace. He pounded deeply into you, head hanging low as he focused on his hard thrusts.

“Shit!” You nearly cry, wrapping your arms around his neck as you started to feel more sensitive. “You’re so fucking hard, hell…”

“Am I usually not?” He teases with a smirk, not ceasing his movements anytime soon.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” you panted breathlessly. “The fucking cock ring’s, like, making you even harder than you ever been. I can’t believe this only, like, the second time we’ve ever used it.”

“Are you implying that we should use it more?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Hell, yeah,” you replied with a satisfied moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Derek groans, hiding his face in your neck, briefly nipping at your flesh. “Fucking love how tight you feel around my fucking cock.”

You moaned at his sultry words, your arms leaving his neck and holding yourself up with your palms flat on the counter behind you, attempting to grind against his movements. “Fuuuck,” you mumble as your palms shifted behind you, nudging and almost knocking down the Clone-A-Willy tube that was still filled with un-solidified silicone. “Oh, shit!” Gasping in a short panic, you held it steady before it could fall and moved it away to the side.

“Jesus, babe, you almost spilled over my dick,” he scoffs with a chuckle, his thrusts slightly sloppy from this distraction.

“Oh, I’ll spill something over your dick, babe,” you joked swiftly with a playful smirk.

“Oh my god, you’re fucking terrible,” he groaned as a mere, amused smile formed at his lips.

“Shut up, I’m not the one who got mistaken for a porn star,” you retorted, flashing a teasing grin.

“God, never fucking bring that up again,” Derek huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, I will, baby, I will so use it against you,” you claim humorously.

Suddenly, he lifts you up by your ass, away from the counter as he was still pressed deeply inside of you. Holding you up against him in the center of the kitchen floor, he thrusted up inside of you, creating a strong wave of pleasure throughout your entire being.

“Fuck!” You cried as his fingernails dig into the skin of your ass, pushing his cock in and out of your sensitive hole. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, babe, you might not be a porn star, but you sure as hell fuck like one, shit…” The harsh sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoed lewdly in the kitchen as he continued holding you up, and even guiding and pushing your hips skillfully against his.

Finally, he brought the two of you over on a chair, sitting down against it as you were positioned on top, his dick completely inside of you. “Ride me, baby,” he mutters, cupping your face gently, yet pulling you in urgently for a deep, wet kiss, shoving his tongue through your lips.

Breaking the kiss, Derek’s hands explored and caressed the warm, smooth skin of your body, muttering lustful praises to you. This prompted you to begin moving, placing your hands on his shoulders as your hips would gently grind against his. “Mmm,” you hum softly in pleasure before your head is thrown back the moment you increase your pace.

You let your knees assist you in bouncing on his thick cock, feeling his arms being wrapped around your back tightly to bring you in closely and intimately. “Fuck, baby…” Derek huffs, attempting to move his hips up with yours.

This position was short-lived, however, because of Derek’s urgency to fuck you fast and properly, lifting you back up once again. He made out with you as he held you, kissing your lips roughly and hotly while we stumbled towards the living room to finally throw you down on the couch.

He immediately grabbed your legs, lifting them up to place your ankles over his shoulders, nipping softly at your legs in admiration before thrusting back in.

“Fuck!” He groans, moving his hips at a much rougher and faster rate, practically pounding into you with both lust and love.

“Shit, Derek!” You whimper, feeling his cock slide in and out of you so fluidly, stretching and caressing your sensitive walls. From all the buildup of the previous positions, you felt so close already. “Fuck, baby. I—I’m gonna cum—”

“Just—fuck—hold on a little longer, baby,” he mutters, ramming his dick inside of you without faltering, focusing on driving the both of you to the very edge.

“Baby…” You whined desperately, looking up at him as you felt yourself begin to clench around him. And that really did it for him.

“Fuuuck,” Derek moaned, his movements against you beginning to stagger, “Cum for me, baby, c’mon.”

A loud, whiny moan escaped your lips as your back arched up against him, tensing up as you finally released. Your tight, fleshy walls around Derek prompted him to come right after, spilling his warm, white semen deep inside of you, muttering a few curse words before collapsing on top of you.

The both of you panted heavily, struggling to catch your breaths as you felt each other’s sweaty, naked body against one another’s. You chuckle breathlessly, feeling so content from the overwhelming ecstasy that your orgasm bestowed upon yourself.

“So good,” Derek whispered, kissing your lips in a sloppy, lazy manner, “you did so good for me, sweetheart.”

***

“What in… the actual fuck.”

The next day, after it had been exactly 24 hours since you’ve poured in the silicone inside of the mold, you and Derek took it out, revealing his glow-in-the-dark, cloned dick.

The two of you looked down at the new dildo, then looked at each other before cackling loudly and heartily, your laughs echoing in the kitchen where you had done the reveal.

“Oh, my god, it looks—it looks exactly fucking like it, babe!” You exclaim in disbelief, nearly wheezing as you hold the light green, phallic object in your grasp.

“That is,” he began, trying to recover from his previous, hearty laughter, “fucking insane. It’s so uncanny, like… it looks so real.”

“Dude, look at all the detail!” You urged, small snickers escaping your throat, “like even the veins and the fucking—what—frenulum, like… What the hell?!”

“And it’s such a bright ass neon green, holy shit,” Derek chuckled, continuing to examine the silicone.

“Hey, it matches your entire vibe, at least. You know. Green. Money. Ehh?”

The two of you giggled childishly, enjoying the absolute absurdity of this entire situation. “God, only you, Y/n, could get me to do the stupidest fucking things that I would never be willing to do for, like, anybody else,” Derek remarked with a slight smile.

”Hey, you were up for it too,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, “I was joking about it first, but you were the one who took it seriously!”

“Uh, you were the one who grabbed it first,” retorted Derek.

“And you were the one who took it seriously when I was joking,” you repeated, chuckling softly in amusement.

“I—” But before he could say anything, he realized that you were right. “God fucking dammit.”

***

Tomorrow, Derek would have left for the business trip, the two of you saying your goodbyes before he would disappear into his private jet. And the day after, as your lover stayed at a luxurious hotel, lounging comfortably on the bed, he received a few texts from you during the night:

Y/n: hey

Y/n: it actually does glow in the dark btw

Y/n: [sent an attachment]

Derek’s eyes widened instantly, jaw dropping at the sight of the diabolically lewd image you had just sent him. Including the familiar, bright green item in the frame, of course.

“Holy fu—”

[divine-misfortune]

The floor is yours good sir 👀

CLEARS THROAT

After his transition, Dewdrop felt nothing but loss. Everything was taken from him. His element, his pack, his bass. And what pack he had left felt like strangers to him, though some of them were strangers. Mountain and Aether looked at him different. He was just Dew now. No more Dewdrop, the clergy had even stolen his own fucking name from him. No more droplet, no more water lily, no more catfish. Sure, the nicknames changed. Sure, they were still endearing. But they weren’t his. It felt like he’d stolen something from Ifrit - like every passing ‘spitfire’ was desecrating something sacred.

In the weeks and months following, he hides the urge to grimace every single time these new pet names find their way to his ears. Dew wants to like them, wants to feel that familiar fuzzy warmth in his chest. Yearns for the feeling of love to settle into his core like an old familiar friend. He also does his best not to looked like a kicked puppy when Mountain calls this new ghoul ‘tadpole’ for the first time, and the second time, and every occurrence after that. It was like being replaced. More confusing of a feeling though, keeping him around to watch this new water ghoul blossom was painful. Could have been classified as Dewdrop related cruelty.

And there is no way for him to swallow down the resentment and anger that boils in him when Aether purrs the faintest ‘raindrop’ against Rain’s kiss plumped lips. Puts off sparks, the fire in the hearth crackles and flares violently before snuffing out abruptly as he gets off the couch and storms out of the room.

Time blurs eventually. They say it heals all wounds but all it does is numb him to the hurt. Dew can force it down far enough he can force himself to be in the same room as Rain. And then after a bit longer, tolerate a conversation with him, which turns into multiple over time. Spirals into thousands of shared thoughts and words between them until Dew can’t get enough of listening to Rain talk. Disdain and arms length distance becomes infatuation and a desire for proximity he didn’t think possible before.

Dew kisses him. Suddenly and without even considering what he was doing, the fire ghoul was leaning over the sleek white bass in Rain’s lap to sate an itch he’d been ignoring since the day they met. Their mouths fit together like they were made for this. He tastes like everything Dew had dreamed about and more. It tastes like home and conflict mixed in one but it doesn’t drive him away like it should. Curiosity has him licking over the seam of Rain’s lips and dipping past when Rain allows him in. His gasp lights a fire in Dew he’d never felt. Not simply arousal, but something deeper than even he knew. Completion.

They’re lucky Rain has the shoulder strap on because if not that bass would’ve hit the floor because Rain’s hands had abandoned it to fit on a more favorable body. One against his cheek, the other on the back of his neck. Every point of contact Dew can find helps make the world make sense again. He’s practically trying to crawl into Rain’s already occupied lap, wanting to press their bodies together in a way not entirely sexual.

And they part, and Dew’s world feels broken in half. Ripped away by the distance between their lips. The taste lingers and Dew hopes it stays forever. Hopes that this might be the one thing they can’t take from him.

“Rain, I-“

“Took you long enough,” he interrupts and pets his thumb over his warm cheek. “Kept me waiting, droplet.”

There it is. That single fucking word and Dew’s shattered world is flipped on its head and forced back together despite the missing chipped pieces.

The clergy may have stolen it from him, but Rain gave it back just like that.

Dew could laugh, should probably cry, but he just stares at those pretty blue eyes. Frozen until relief thaws him and reminds his heart to start beating again, even if it is a bit faster than it had been. It didn’t matter, his heart could beat right out of his chest and Dew wouldn’t care. Too fixated on the way the word leaves Rain’s tongue, fascinated by the fondness it carries, enraptured by the way he looks at him. It didn’t cure the pain his transition caused him, but it did stitch the open wound shut so it could finally begin to heal.

“Say it again…”

“Again?”

“Call me that again, please.”

“As many times as you want, droplet. Anything you want.”

And each one is a reminder of who he was - who he is. His name no longer felt strange and foreign like ill fitted clothes.

[megamindsecretlair]

What You Deserve, Part 2

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic filth. Infidelity. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) , fingering (female receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play, dirty talk, praise kink, Daddy kink, all consensual.

Summary: Getting into an argument with your husband has you question several things about your relationship. You know you shouldn't, but you turn to Stunna anyway.

Word Count: 4,482k

Part 1 | Part 3

A/N: The brainrot is REAL. REAL I SAY!!!! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @melaninpov @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @jay-mach @sageispunk @ciaqui @yourofficialgal @harmshake @amethyst09

“What the fuck is this?” You asked, following your husband around your room as he packed. He threw down a couple of socks on top of the neat pile he was making. He shook his head and you couldn’t help noticing how small it was in proportion to his body.

He worked out and kept himself fit but it wasn’t for your benefit. He just liked to look good. And you were feeling petty so everything now was small on him. His head, his beady little eyes, and his tiny ass hands. 

“I can’t say no, babe,” he said. He looked at you briefly, like that was supposed to help, and went into the bathroom to collect his travel pouch. He unzipped it, diving through its contents, oblivious to the roller coaster of emotions shooting through you.

“You promised to attend the twins’ play this week. Not to mention, you promised to take them to the aquarium. You can’t do that to them and then make me the villain, having to tell them that you can’t make your promises,” you said. 

You felt like screaming. How was it that he was the smartest man at his company, responsible for…whatever financial crap he’s into and he couldn’t see what an asshole he was being? 

“I have this job so they have the chance to do these dumbass plays. Record it for me,” he said. 

“Want to try that again?” You asked, crossing your arms. 

Your husband rolled his neck and gave you the infamous grimace. The one that told you that he didn’t like this conversation or where it was headed. The one that usually told you to back off before he shut down completely and did some passive aggressive shit that only pissed you off. Now you were both mad and he was sleeping in the guest room. And you’d have to hide it from your incredibly smart twins. 

“I appreciate all that you do, truly. But one day you’re going to wake up, they’re going to be older, and all they remember is that you were gone all the time,” you said. 

Your husband sighed and stepped closer to you. He put his hands on your elbows and rubbed them, looking into your eyes. “I hear you. I had every intention of going to their plays and taking them to the aquarium. These things just keep coming up,” he said.

You pulled out of his embrace. After what you did with Stunna last week, you hadn’t felt like touching your husband. You had been in a weird headspace, caught between feeling guilty and liberated. Besides, you were mad at Baby Hands right now and didn’t feel like faking the funk today.

“I’ll be sure to tell our five year olds that these things keep coming up. I’m sure they’ll understand,” you said.

“Don’t use them to fight with me,” he said. 

You took a deep breath, ready to launch into what an ungrateful bastard he was. Times like these only highlighted what a stark difference kids made to people’s lives. In the beginning, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Now, you wanted to scratch his eyes out more than you wanted to kiss him. 

What was the point? Realizing that, you deflated. Why were you fighting so damn hard for this shit when he clearly couldn’t be bothered? 

“Have a safe trip,” you finally said. Your husband’s nose flared and you turned around before he could read the disgust on your face. You hated when he did that shit. He was like a toddler sometimes. Only a toddler actually expressed themselves. You were exhausted and didn’t have the fucking energy.

You focused on getting the twins together. It was important that they learned to value their free time. That it was okay to have moments where things weren’t scheduled and they could choose what they wanted to do. 

Noah usually chose reading, preferring to get lost in his Captain Underpants books. You were surprised they were still around but once he saw the books, Noah got all fired up. It was getting harder to find appropriate books for his age that he hadn’t already read. 

Naomi, on the other hand, liked her baby dolls. You made it a point to buy her Black ones and teach her to love her skin. You popped your head in on her and watched as she was playing some rendition of a beauty salon. She was chattering away and you smiled at her creativity. 

With all things said, your husband was an ass but he gave you your kids. You couldn’t hate him for that. You just wished he’d do better. Once they found out that their dad pulled out of plans, again, their little faces would eat you up. 

That night, when everyone was fed and in bed, you were in the living room enjoying your little bit of free time. You were on your phone, scrolling through mindless shit on Facebook. You held a glass of red wine and sipped it, scrolling through someone’s vacation photos. 

It’d been a while since your husband took you on a vacation. Not since…well, since before the kids were born. Had it really been that long? 

No wonder you invited a total stranger into your home and in your pants. Your life was good, safe, but boring as hell. Your friends were all out living their lives and you weren’t always able to link up with them. They were childless so they didn’t want to hang around a house full of kids. 

The mom friends you did make were not into the same shit you were. They wanted book clubs and wine hangouts. Anything that they didn’t have to stray too far from their homes, a call or hop away from their respective families. You were stuck and in need of some entertainment. 

Your fingers seemed to move to your text messages of their own accord. Your fingers flew to a new message and typed in Stunna’s name. You were facing away from the staircase and no one should be up and creeping around, but you still looked up to make sure you were alone. 

It was really late. You shouldn’t be entertaining this. Your husband’s words scrolled through your mind, mixed with the wine you consumed, and you were typing the message before you could truly think about it. 

You sent the message and waited anxiously. You flipped your phone over and placed it on the arm of the couch like it was a bomb ready to explode. This was insane. He now had your number. 

You picked your phone up and began a new message, telling him that you were tipsy and shouldn’t have sent that. 

Stunna: Was wondering how long you were gonna take. Fingers ain’t working?

You: Shut up!

Stunna: Ain’t the same huh? 🤤

You put the phone down and rubbed your hands on your pants. You felt incredibly sensitive, out of body, or too aware. Something was off but you couldn’t pin down what. A flash of heat made you fan yourself. Nothing even happened and you were already hot and bothered. It’d been so long since you were horny that you didn’t recognize the signs right away. 

Truth be told, you hadn’t had a chance to take care of yourself. Your days were scheduled around getting the twins ready for their play, running lines, making sure they did their homework, and getting food together. You didn’t have a chance to think about it all week.

Now you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop rubbing your thighs together and picturing Stunna’s face smiling down at you. Picture how he looked fucking you on the kitchen table. You hadn’t been able to look at it the same all week. 

You topped off your wine and then went up to your bathroom, running a bath while you continued to text with Stunna. He had plenty of innuendos for you, but was a surprisingly great conversationalist. When he wasn’t being nasty, he was giving great tips on new foods to try. Like chicken fried steak with cheesy potatoes and broccoli. 

The hot water was heaven on your body and your eucalyptus soap worked wonders for stress. Breathing in the earthy scent cleared your worries about your stupid husband and this unplanned trip. You texted back and forth with Stunna while you soaped up and continued to drink wine. 

You did place the phone down at one point and took care of your needs, getting yourself off to flashbacks of what you shared with Stunna. It was an incredible orgasm, but the bastard was right, it wasn’t the same. 

You finally signed off with Stunna and got ready for bed yourself. You looked over your husband’s travel bags. The idiot didn’t know it, but you always double checked to make sure he had everything. He had draped his suit jacket over the suitcase and you rolled your eyes. This man loved wrinkles apparently.

You lifted it and a piece of paper fell out. You picked it up, curiosity getting the best of you. The ticket was for Miami and you pouted. You would’ve loved to visit Miami. Just because he had to work, didn’t mean that you couldn’t have gone as well and had fun with him in his off hours. Punk.  

You refolded the paper and hung up his jacket. Then you placed the paper in his jacket. Something solid knocked against your hand. Inside, there was a phone that you didn’t recognize. Did he have a work phone? 

As long as you’d known him, he only used his regular cell phone for work. He was glued to it, constantly on it looking at financial reports, accounting discrepancies, and whatever else you zoned out about his work. So what the hell was he doing with a second phone? 

You wanted to wake his ass up and demand answers. Maybe his job did give him a second phone and you had mentally checked out about it. You bit your cheek. You were just flirting with Stunna by phone, dodging his questions about coming over and helping some more. Plus, you cheated on him. Could you really be mad if he did the same?

Yes. Because that happened last week. If your husband had an extra phone, who knows how long he’d been entertaining that bitch while you were taking care of his kids. The disrespect was what got you. You placed the phone back in his pocket, unsure what else to think of it. 

Heat roared in your chest. Too full of simmering anger. You needed more evidence. You needed something other than a new phone to confront him with. You slipped into bed, looking at his sleeping form, wondering who the fuck you married. 

The next day, you sent your husband off to the airport while he hugged and kissed your crying kids. You kissed his cheek, but otherwise didn’t have two words to give him. Whether or not he noticed, he didn’t say anything as he climbed into the cab with his travel bags. 

You wiped your kids’ tears and told them that you’d take them to the aquarium yourself and they could make pictures about what they saw, so they could tell their father when he came home. You drove them to school and when you came back, you had a few hours to kill before you had to get food started. 

You were still feeling petty. And hurt. And horny. And there were too many thoughts running through your head. You pulled out your phone and called up Stunna, cursing yourself the whole way. You weren’t ready to snoop yet. You weren’t ready to face the notion that your marriage was likely over. 

Stunna answered on the second ring. “Must be my lucky day to hear from an angel,” he said. 

“You busy?” You asked. You needed your brain quiet. You needed your brains fucked right out of you. And the only one able to help you was Stunna. You realized that you were a hypocrite. You couldn’t be mad at your husband for cheating if you were willing to do the same. The difference was, you had still been trying to make it work with someone who’d checked out a long time ago. 

“Never too busy for you,” he said. He sounded like he was in the middle of driving. You heard rushing wind and faint music playing. 

“I need dick,” you said. 

Stunna’s smooth chuckle sent a tingle right down to your pussy. It throbbed and you shifted your footing, already getting worked up. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be over in a few,” he said. 

He hung up with a final goodbye and you smiled, biting your lip and thinking about getting fucked. You ran upstairs to put on something sexy. One of the forgotten lingerie sets that you bought in hopes of using it on your husband. 

His loss. You should be upset. Angry. Pissed. Vengeful. Right now, you couldn’t think past Stunna’s magical dick and how you were using it as a cure-all. He said to use him right? That’s all this was. Something to clear out the pipes before you went into investigating your own husband like a criminal. 

You shimmied into the red, lacy bra and panties set and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had stopped caring about your body after a while. You’d always been a big girl with a tummy and thick, jiggly thighs. You could use some turns around the gym. Nope. You weren’t going to do that.

You were a mother and your body was still banging. Just a little more fleshed out. You had a body that screamed that you were alive. 

The doorbell rang, shaking you from your thoughts, and you slipped on a matching red robe with black trim. You stepped down the stairs and looked in the peephole. Stunna leaned against the door frame. A thrill shot through you. Even looking at him through the peephole got you excited. You had it bad for this man. 

You opened it and Stunna lowered his glasses. He looked at your robe, mouth curving into a smile. “I have a dick delivery for uh–”

You howled with laughter as you let him in and closed the door behind him. He turned to you, taking off his glasses completely. He looked damn good, standing there in a Black polo shirt and dark jeans. Good enough to devour. 

He grinned at you, stalking towards you and pushing you against the front door. “Missed Daddy?” 

He leaned down and kissed you, moving on to your neck. His hands came around to grab your hips, squeezing them. Then his hands moved to your ass, cupping the globes in his big hands and jiggling them. 

“Yes,” you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. Already you felt yourself climbing out of a numb hole you’d sunken into last night discovering the phone. You didn’t want your imagination to run wild, to immediately suspect him of cheating on you. But you couldn’t help the gnawing pit in your stomach. 

You didn’t want to think about that right now anyway. You lifted your leg and rubbed yourself against Stunna like a cat. He moaned, lips vibrating against your neck. You wanted more. You wanted him to do more. No hesitation. 

You grabbed his hand, giving him a wink, and then tugged him upstairs. You bypassed your room and headed into the guest room. Inside, you were guilt free. Inside, you were just a woman enjoying a man’s body. 

You kissed Stunna, taking off his shirt while you did so. You separated briefly, to tug it over his head, and then went back to kissing. It was sloppy and messy. Teeth scraping against each other because you weren’t close enough. 

You went to work on his pants, but Stunna chuckled and stopped you. “Hol’ on, hol’ on,” he said. He stilled your hands. “You really miss me or you trynna prove something?” He asked. 

“I really missed you,” you said. You were not doing this in retaliation for your husband. You didn’t know if Baby Hands really was cheating. But you knew that Stunna could get you there. Could give you a wild experience like last time. 

“Good. Get on them knees and show me then,” he said. He took off his jeans and briefs, freeing his long, glorious dick. You licked your lips at seeing it. Your memories were a poor substitute for the real thing.

Stunna pulled you towards the bed and sat down on the corner. He widened his legs, man spreading all over the bed and you eagerly dropped to your knees. You’d proudly suck his dick. Proudly. You had no shame whatsoever right now. You felt wanton and needy. And it felt fucking amazing.

You kissed up his dick and watched a feral gleam enter Stunna’s dark eyes. He smirked and you lowered your lips onto him, suckling him. He groaned and shifted, giving you a better angle to take him down as far as you could take him. 

You sucked and slurped on his dick, drooling leaking down so you could rub him in the area your mouth couldn’t reach. He moaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck, just like that,” he said. You loved the feedback.

It turned you on. Arousal dripped out of you knowing that he was enjoying himself. Enjoying sex with you. You bobbed your head faster, gluck-glucking your way into that nut you wanted from him. 

His hands dug into your hair, palming your head and pulling you down faster on his dick. His moans increased, and you focused on trying to keep up and not gag. “Gahh damn. You ain’t tell me you had a throat like this,” he moaned. He tapped a free hand against your cheek and you moaned. He could do anything he fucking wanted with your body. 

You slurped his thick head and he jerked his hips, cum splashing down your throat. You sucked him all down, licking up runaway drops on your lips. Stunna watched you clean your mouth and he smirked. 

“Nasty ass. Get up on this bed and sit on my face,” he said. He went to lean down and you shook your head.

“No, no, no, no way,” you said. You’d never sat on a man’s face before. You couldn’t possibly. He’d die. 

He leaned on his elbows and you had to take a moment to admire the Statue of David. He was chiseled in all the right places. Sculpted. You had to admire God’s handiwork, he took his time with this one. 

“I want that fat pussy on my face. Now,” he said. 

Your pussy throbbed at his command and you giggled nervously as you climbed onto the bed. Stunna leaned back and laid down. You straddled his face and he asked if you were comfortable. At your nod, he moved your panties to the side and began to lick you and you moaned, clutching his head and leaning forward onto the bed. 

His tongue lapped up all of the essence that leaked out while you were giving him head. He moaned, digging in deeper. He alternated licking, flicking, and sucking until he found a nice rhythm and attacked your clit with a single-minded focus. 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” you moaned. Your hips began to move, riding his face. Thoughts of him suffocating vanished as you rode him, fucking his tongue rather than him fucking you. His hands gripped your ass and he smacked it, the sound loud enough to echo. 

Gasping heaps of breath escaped you as you came, shaking and twitching on top of him. He continued to eat you out, smacking your ass more for good measure. Your legs were noodles now. Too weak to hold yourself up. 

Stunna helped you lean off of him, laying on your side on the bed. You gasped for breath as he rubbed your thighs and ass. His beard was shiny and wet, dripping with your essence. He wiped his mouth, cleaning off most of it. There was still a shiny drop on him. You wiped it away for him and he grabbed your hand, sucking off your thumb. He moaned, one more taste from you. 

“Daddy missed you too, baby. I’m glad you called me,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. 

He climbed to his knees, using your hips to steady him. He lifted your leg and you looked at him while he slapped his dick against your clothed pussy. “So fuckin’ wet, gorgeous. You know I had a dream of fucking you,” he said.

“You did?” You asked. 

He nodded while he moved your panties and lined himself up. He began to push in, sinking his dick into you and watching your face. Your mouth rounded to a perfect ‘O’ and he smirked. You pushed at his stomach. You forgot. He was so damn big. 

He grabbed your hand and pinned it to the bed. He continued to push into you and you moaned, throat going raw with the effort. You used your other hand to push against him, slapping at his chest. His skin was so smooth and delicious. Your hand slid against his sweat-slick skin and he pulled that hand away too. He joined it with your other hand and pinned both above your head. 

“Oh fuck! Daddy, too big,” you moaned.

“Too big? I can’t help that, baby,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, distracting you from the feel of him stroking deep within you. At this angle, going from the side as he was, you were able to look at him while he fucked you.

And it was a dangerous thing. You loved watching the emotions play over his face. Your wet heat sucked him in more and more until he hit your sweet spot. You cried out, eyes widening. “That’s my spot!” 

“That’s your spot right there?” He asked. 

“Right there!” You looked at him like he really was a statue brought to life. Like someone from a bygone era that studied sex like a true connoisseur. 

Most men would move or stop what they were doing. It was like once you pointed it out, they took it as a personal challenge to do anything but. Not Stunna. He didn’t deviate in the slightest, hitting your spot over and over. He increased his pace, wet sucking filling up the air between his grunts and your moans. 

“Oh fuck yes,” he whispered. “Gonna cum, gonna cum,” he moaned. 

“Ouuueee,” you whimpered. It felt too damn good. You were crying and whimpering, so fucking close. So close, so close, so clo–

You came with a loud cry, shivering on his dick and twitching out of control. Your mind emptied out while he continued to pound into you, hitting that spot that he found. He took a few more strokes before he grunted, releasing his cum inside. You twitched more, feeling stuffed.

Your teeth chattered as you came down. Stunna leaned over and kissed you. You breathed each other in as you panted and huffed. You were a filthy mix of sweat and juices between you. And fuck! You needed that!

“Beautiful, fuckin’ beautiful,” Stunna said and kissed you once more. 

“How do I tip for dick deliveries?” You panted. 

Stunna chuckled and slipped out of you. You groaned as some of his cum spilled out as well. “Tip him by using him more often,” he said. He pulled you into his arms, running his hand up and down your back.

His feverish skin was now a little cold, cooling off from the intense session. You threw your leg over him and he grinned. He was so long, that his hand was able to slip between your legs and play with his cum leaking out of you. You moaned, moving away from him but he held onto you.

He kissed your temple. “Can’t get enough,” he whispered against your head. He fingered you, playing with your clit and your entrance, fucking his fingers deeper and deeper.

“Stunna, Stunna…fuck!” You cried. 

“That’s it. Let yourself go one more time for me,” he said. 

You buried your face into his neck and moaned, moving your hips to fuck his fingers. “That’s it. Keep doing that,” he said. You whimpered, chasing that elusive feeling once more. You were just greedy at this point, fucking yourself with his fingers until you were crying out with another mind-numbing orgasm. 

When you calmed down enough, Stunna withdrew his fingers. He painted your lips with a mix of your climaxes and you opened your mouth to the smell and taste of you combined. You moaned as you sucked on his fingers.

Stunna grinned, kissed you, and then finished cleaning off his fingers. You sighed, watching this amazing man that fell in your lap. Too bad you didn’t meet him first. There would never be a dull moment if Stunna was around. 

“Thank you,” you said and kissed his chest. 

“You ain’t gotta thank me for that. What’s on deck for tonight?” He asked.

“Spaghetti. The twins’ favorite. Their dad…” You trailed off. You didn’t know if you were crossing some kind of line here. The whole reason he was here was to take your mind off of your husband. Not bring up your problems to him. 

“Hey, no pressure. But I’m not intimidated by hearing about your bitch ass husband,” he said. He grinned and you melted, leaning into him while you told him about their dad promising shit and canceling on them at the last minute. You left out the bit about the phone. You weren’t sure what you were going to do about it, but you didn’t need a second opinion just yet.

“Go get cleaned up and I’ll take care of it,” he said.

“No way! I can’t let you give me back to back orgasms and cook my babies some food,” you said. 

“Sure you can. I said use me,” he said. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your wrist. “I’m a full service delivery boy.”

Your laugh was loud and off-kilter. You covered your mouth but you didn’t stop your wild laughing. He was so stupid and silly and just the type of man you always thought you’d marry. 

“Take a break, clean up, and I’ll see your sexy ass in the kitchen where you’ll get spoiled for once,” he said.

You smiled, cheeks hurting from how good you felt right now. “Or…you could always join me in the shower,” you said. It definitely crossed some sort of line to have sex with him in the shower your husband used that morning. But the hallway bathroom had a shower. 

Stunna grinned. “Lead the way, then,” he said.

If you need more Stunna, you know where to find him! The Secret Big Stunna Files

Part 1 | Part 3

[secondhand-snow]

a body of impulses

chapter 2: feeling like unraveling

lukas matsson x f!roy! reader (succession)

★ chapter 1 ★ | ★chapter 3★

wc: 9.0k+

warnings: super dysfunctional family, fluff first then angst, roman roy as his own warning, season 3 finale as its own warning, mentions of manipulation, drinking, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, corruption kink (for real this time), dick pics, mention of phone sex, making out, dry humping/grinding, biting, pussyjobs, cum play/eating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare, no use of y/n

summary: Lukas is amazing. He's tender, he's deviant, he's everything for you. But you're still worried, your family has never seen a beautiful thing that they haven't wanted to break.

author's note: chapter 2 is here, thank you for all the love on chapter 1! i hope you love it as much as i loved writing it ♡ be warned that this is heavy on the plot of episodes 3.08 and 3.09, so if you haven't watched the full show you may get a bit lost. please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging if you enjoyed!

You have a tendency to get anxious when things are good for too long. A few weeks without a family fight, a month without a scandal, half a year without Kendall relapsing; nice things usually end in flames in your family. They make you superstitious, always looking around the corner for something to jump out and fuck everything up. So, when Lukas is good, you get scared. You expect some kind of backhand. A threat of blackmail, a tweet exposing your promiscuity, a package of anthrax at your door. 

It never comes.

He calls you every night, your timezone, not his. Listens to you talk about your day and doesn’t press when you can’t give him details on the company. He loves to send you pictures, just of him doing the most mundane things. Lukas on a Zoom meeting, Lukas working out, Lukas eating dinner. Together, you fall into something almost domestic. It’s still a secret. You don’t open his messages in public, stay far away from any conversations about him at work that could lead a blush to your face. But when has anything in your life been completely honest?

He’s been begging for a while now to fly you out to Sweden. You know it’s a risk you shouldn’t take at the moment, but you entertain him anyway. When you ask why he wants to see you so badly, he says he misses you. Then he says he wants to fuck you on his desk.

 That almost convinces you, and you’re about to start packing when a roadblock emerges. Your dad asks you to come with him and your siblings to Italy, for Caroline’s wedding. You hadn’t been planning on going, she wasn’t your mom and you didn’t have much of a relationship with her. In fact, you actually thought she secretly hated you, something to do with how quickly Logan married your mom after their divorce. Regardless, you didn’t want to go to the wedding. But when Logan Roy calls, you come. Always.

So the bags were repacked and you found yourself on a different private jet with your siblings, once again at the mercy of your family.

“She’s probably in sexual thrall to him. He’s driving her wild with his sugar dick.” Siobhan spoke matter of factly, completely oblivious to how absurd her words sounded. Still, it wasn’t the strangest conversation of hers you’d walked in on. “So there’s nothing we can do.”

 Roman was perched across the aisle from Tom and Shiv, sitting oddly in his seat, running his hand through his hair while he spoke. “All right, fine. Let him kill her for her emeralds and… screw us out of the fucking firm. See if I care.”

“Mommy issues?” You spoke up, setting your bag down on a free seat before moving to lean over the back of Shiv’s chair, kneeling on the seat behind it.

“Always. I didn’t know you were coming?” Rome turns to address you, eyebrows coming together in question.

“Dad drafted me. I think he just wants to terrorize Caroline with my presence.”

“I think you torment her enough by just existing. She doesn’t get to be the perfect mother of Logan Roy’s prodigal children.” Shiv pitched in, finally acknowledging your presence with a little smile.

“I don’t think I’m even invited to all the events. He’s just gonna have me working on the GoJo deal the whole time.”

“Oh! About the deal, I was talking to Karl and Frank-” Tom is addressing Roman more than you, but still gives you the courtesy of eye contact before your brother cuts him off. 

“Yeah, no, you’re not really a part of that. Either of you, actually.” Rome nods his head to the couple, a smirk on his face charged by his current power trip.

“Well, I am.” Shiv interjects, annoyed.

“Well, I can’t fire you yet Shiv, because I’m still a little bit scared of you. But, my thinking is, when I take over, I’m gonna put you in the office next to mine and you’re gonna be my sexy secretary.” You just shake your head at Roman’s comment while he turns to head back to his seat. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Siobhan is more irritated than really upset, going back to her phone as Roman leaves the conversation.

“I dunno. We’re working on it.” He taps the back on his legs in a rhythm before sitting down. “Ongoing process.”

You address Tom, seeing the confusion in his eyes that people tend to get when talking to your brother. “We’re just working on outlining terms. Honestly, Gerri would be better to ask for specifics. I don’t know how much Dad wants me to say.”

Tom just nods in thanks, which you return with a small smile before heading to your seat. You’re across the aisle from Roman, who’s already curled up and ready to nap on the flight. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from Lukas, covertly labeled in your phone with just an “L.” You turn the screen away from your company, making sure to not catch the reflection in the window as you open his text.

Stockholm is a 4 hour flight to Italy. 

Is it? I’ll be in the air for at least 10 hours.

10 hours without talking to you?

I think you can manage it.

I don’t know about Italy. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m in the same country as you.

It’s a risk. 

Will there be a reward?

…I’ll text you when we land.

He sends a picture of himself doing a kissing face. You send a heart emoji in response, hiding your face with your hand to conceal your smile. 

It turns out that you were invited to a few events of Lady Caroline’s wedding. Not the ceremony, of course, but at least you were allowed to attend the receptions leading up to it. You weren’t going to be cooped up in a hotel room all weekend, signing documents and having Facetime sex with your not-boyfriend. In fact, you ended up at one of these events just a little after your arrival, a garden party full of snobby aristocrats and expensive champagne. It’s too hot out for your liking, you're already sweating in your semi-formal sundress and downing your second glass of cold bubbly. 

You end up with Shiv, partially blocked from the sun by the shadow of her hat, quietly snickering at her and Tom’s jokes about a clueless cousin Greg. It’s surprisingly calm for one of your family gatherings, no shouting or challenging or worse. The tranquility snaps like a twig with a ding on your phones.

“Uh- Matsson…” Shiv speaks first, the two of you pulling out your phones simultaneously, her angling her screen to share it with Tom. A message from Karolina leads you to Matsson’s twitter page, and his latest tweet. It’s a goofy gif of his face with a Snapchat filter on it, the text reading ‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.” You’re half excited, half alarmed. You don’t really know if you should believe it at first but, against your better judgment, you hope it’s true. Hope he’s just an hour or two from you, the closest he’s been in weeks.

 “What? Going to Macao? Feeling lucky?” Tom squints against the sun to see the Tweet before pulling out his own phone. “The fuck is that?”

“You get this thing from Karolina? It’s off the radar and now this? Is this- is it a move?” Gerri’s entrance is quick, followed closely behind by Roman. You open your mouth and close it again, not sure if your words will betray your duplicity.

“It, um, it could be…could be nothing, you know? Fucking social media fireworks!” Roman’s hand is threaded through his hair, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the light.

“‘Going to Macao, feeling lucky.’” Gerri repeats the four words, she’s as flabbergasted as everyone in this little Waystar circle. Business has once again interfered with pleasure. “Is he trying to boost his price?”

“Is he just rocking the boat?” Shiv’s voice is unsure, wavering from her usual monotone state. “Or trying to blow up the deal? I mean, has he got good subscriber numbers coming in?”

“Maybe he’s just going to Macao and he’s feeling lucky.” Tom chimes in as Rome steps away from the group, phone pressed to his ear in a call you can’t fully hear.

“I mean, yeah… It’s not out of his archetype to post something like this.” You shrug, not sure what to contribute that hasn’t already been said. 

Roman finishes his call, turning back to you to speak. “I don’t know, it’s like, his thing. He’s a- a trickster.”

“Okay. Well, sounds cool. Is he gonna, like, steal our watches and fucking saw the deal in half?” Shiv’s getting upset, you know she likes control and she’s too far removed from this deal to do anything about Matsson’s stunts. 

“Maybe!”

“You’re supposed to be inside this Rome!”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Mattson’s not stupid, he wouldn’t deliberty fuck this deal and announce it to the world on Twitter.” You’re trying to reason with your siblings, though it’s not really working. Roman mostly ignores you, Siobhan rolls her eyes. Atleast Gerri and Tom look somewhat appreciative for your input. 

“I am inside, Leave it.” 

You’re done with the dialogue, done with being the peacemaker and getting stepped over by your narcissistic siblings. You throw your hands up, phone held in one and the other in a flat palm to signify your retreat before you walk away from the cluster. You hear Greg say something behind you but don’t bother to answer him, instead moving to find a quiet place far away from your siblings.

You end up in a corner somewhere, mostly blocked by trees and bushes, a little cubby hole you hoped was private enough to not be listened in on. Your fingers nimbly click through the apps on your phone, pausing briefly before pressing the call button on Lukas’s contact. It rings once, twice. Then, an answer.

“When are you coming over? Should I send you a helicopter?”

“Macao?” Your voice is higher than normal, laced in shock and thrill.

“Closer than we’ve been in weeks.” The smile is apparent in his voice, he’s pleased with himself, you hate it. And love it.

“You’re fucking insane. I didn’t think you were serious!” 

“Yeah, I am. I’ll send my jet over.”

“Oh my God, I still cannot believe you. I can’t- my family is on high alert after your little rogue Tweet.” You laugh, not really mad at him, just eager and amazed.

“Oh come on, that was nothing.”

“It was a play to keep them on guard and you know it.”

“Well, partially. It’s for the numbers too. And for your attention.”

“It’s so hard to be away from you when you do shit like this…”

“Oh yeah? You miss me?” It’s a taunt, he knows the truth even if you deny it. So, you’re honest.

“You know I do.”

“Mmm… I miss you too. Keep thinking about what I’ll do when I see you again.”

“Lukas… I’m in public…” You can’t help but glance around, be sure you’re alone when he starts talking like this. His plan is already so clear to you.

“So you don’t want me to tell you about all the ways I’ll fuck you?”

“... Don’t do this to me now.”

“It’ll be just us in this house. I’ll take you wherever I want to. You can scream as loud as you want, don’t have to be worried about someone hearing.” His voice drops, there’s a small rustling on the phone. His words shoot straight to your core, a sensation beginning to form there.

“I’m at a fucking wedding party and you’re getting me turned on. You’re evil.”

“You love it.” You pause a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself before responding. 

“I’ll call you tonight. Please be careful.”

He chuckles.“I will.”

When you hang up, your text thread with Lukas is immediately graced with a photo of his dick, hard and gripped tightly in his fist. It makes you inhale sharply, curse under your breath at the growing need between your thighs. You text him back, simply writing “Fuck you.” before clicking your phone off. It takes you a few minutes of breathing exercises, but you’re able to calm your desire and soothe the blush in your cheeks before returning to the party.

Nobody asks where you went, nobody even really cared that you were gone. You can blame it on Connor’s show of making a proposal, or Matsson’s antics occupying everyone’s minds, but this is how it always is with you. The good child. The innocent daughter. Forever right where she needs to be, never in anyone’s way, constantly willing to help. You disappear when you aren’t wanted, you emerge only when you’re useful. The perfect loyalist, somehow being turned to a deserter.

Lukas leaves Monaco before you can sneak away to see him. You know it’s for the better, but it’s still a disappointment. You resign to finish the family trip and visit Sweden as soon as you get home to New York, going along with the planned events, a false smile plastered on your face. It’s during Caroline’s bachelorette in Cortona when your plans change. You were nursing a glass of wine, silencing your discontent at the rooftop bar when Gerri approached you.

She dragged you around to speak with Roman, revealing that your Dad had once again put you on babysitting duty. Logan wanted Rome to go talk to Mattson at his house in Switzerland, and wanted you to keep him in line. He couldn’t trust Roman to not fuck the deal, but he didn’t want you to speak to Mattson alone. So, you were recruited to accompany Rome. Speak just enough to stop him from saying something stupid, but not enough to draw attention. It was a game you were good at, one you had been practicing since youth. You were loyal to a fault, and Logan always used it to his advantage. 

Lukas is ecstatic when you tell him you’re coming. Less so when he learns Roman is accompanying you, but still thrilled. You ask him for discretion, first nicely and then sternly. You can’t afford to make your relationship, whatever it is, public. He knows this too, knows what your family would do if they found out, but can’t help teasing. It’s only a day after Logan’s request that you board a helicopter, headed to Lake Maggiore. Headed to Lukas.

Roman is oddly quiet on the flight, constantly on his phone or looking out the window, eyes blank. You know him well enough to see the anxiety clouding his mind, feel the nervous energy radiating off his body. You reach over to him and hold his hand. He looks annoyed. He doesn’t drop it. You squeeze his fingers gently, he returns the motion, lets you quietly comfort him until you land.

 Lake Maggiore is beautiful, surrounded by the Alps and lush vegetation, villas and lake homes dotting the shores of the water. You move straight from the helicopter to a boat, which immediately takes off at high speeds, skating over the surface of the lake. The wind fucks up your hair, blows up the skirt of your sundress, almost makes you loose your sunglasses. When you finally dock, you quickly pull out your phone, using it as a mirror to fix your smudged makeup and windswept hair before your host arrives. Roman gives you a weird look, silently judging you for putting effort into your appearance. As if he doesn’t spend hours in front of the mirror every morning styling his hair to look perfectly imperfect. 

When Lukas’s frame finally emerges from the hedges of his property, you have to bite your lower lip to hide your smile. He’s so himself, wearing sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, not bothering with real shoes, just a pair of casual slip-ons. It almost hurts to see him and not be able to immediately kiss him. Jesus, your inner monologue sounds like something from a cheesy rom-com. You feel so love-struck, it makes you crinkle your nose in embarrassment. 

The boat is tied up to the dock now, Roman perched on the side trying to make it onto solid land. The waves rock the vehicle back and forth, knocking him off balance and ruining his attempt at disembarking. 

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Lukas has one hand in his pocket, the other reached out to Rome, close enough for him to grab. If he wanted to. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand.”

“Piss off.” Roman swats his hand away, finally moving off the boat with a small jump. You move, taking his place on the edge of the boat. It’s a bit unsteady, but you manage getting on to the dock in just a few seconds. You shoot a smug smile at Roman before following the two of them up some steps, away from the water and onto Lukas’s yard.

“It’s nice to see you again, man.” Roman speaks first, breaking the silence that had fallen over you three.

“Yeah, yeah. Long time.” Lukas has his usual posture, slightly hunched and lanky, with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. 

“This is an amazing place!” Rome looks around, you continue to follow him and Lukas through the lawn, letting them lead you as you observe.

“Yeah...”

“No?”

“I don’t know, it kind of freaks me out, to be honest.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“When I got it, I wanted everything to be perfect.” You climb a few steps, the group arriving at an outdoor pool area, lined with shrubs and facing the lake. “Now I’m sleeping on a camping mat until I get a deep dive on the best mattress in the world. It’s great- it’s great. I’m just not feeling great. I mean… I’m fine… Well, but, not really.”

You frown at his words. You want to reach out, hold his hand, touch his back, do something to comfort him. But it would be too obvious, too impulsive. Instead you nod sympathetically, catching his gaze for a moment.

“Maybe let’s leave the little feeley-feelings out of it. Cause I’m gonna give you nothing. Nothing!” Roman’s half joking. He hates emotions, tries to diffuse bad ones with humor, even if it feels inappropriate.

“Roman.” Your tone is a warning, pushing your sunglasses back on your head to give him a glare before turning to Lukas. “I get it. You want the best, but you don’t realize how boring perfection is when you always have it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Success.. It doesn’t interest me anymore. It’s too easy. It’s fucking… anyone can do it. Analysis plus capital plus execution. But failure… that’s a secret.” Lukas is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world when he speaks. Sometimes he thinks you can see into his soul, you somehow know him better than anyone. He takes his sunglasses off, using the collar of his shirt to hold them. His blue eyes look directly into yours.“What are you worst at?”

“Well… I… am never telling you any of my weaknesses. Ever. Never, ever, ever.” Roman breaks into the conversation again, disrupts the eye contact between you two. “And I won’t let her tell you any either. Stuff a sock in her mouth, a ball gag or something.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know, I am smart.”

“Cause I ream people. Juice em like oranges. I get way too into people, and they disappoint me.” He looks at Roman when he says that, but you can’t help but take his words as a warning. Things moved fast between you and Lukas, you’ve barely known him for a few weeks and were already opening your heart to him. Letting him into your mind, letting him rearrange the furniture there like he owns it. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing like a- quarterly up and outs at the company.”

“Oh, yeah. Firing people is like, 85% of why I get up in the morning.” Roman shrugs when he talks, moving to take his sunglasses off and hold them in his hand. “But, uh.. I do want to ask you about that tweet, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh the…” Lukas laughs, looks at you, back to Roman. He makes a face, sticking out his tongue to mimic the Snapchat filter on his tweet. “That one.”

“Yeah. Seriously, yes. You got like, big shit coming your way?” Rome uses his free hand to run his fingers through his hair.

“...Are you- are you asking me for material nonpublic information?” Lukas’s grin is lopsided, he’s testing the two of you, seeing how far you’re really going to go.

“Maybe. Were you trying to get your share price up by tweeting unverifiable information outside of normal disclosure channels?” You cut in, raising your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in a way a little too close to flirting. Roman smiles at that, watches you exercise your knowledge like a proud father.

Lukas’s voice is mocking, a fake sad cartoon tone coming over it. “No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He moves his hands to his eyes, pretending to wipe his tears. “So mean.”

“Do you want this deal? Are you into it… like, at all?” Roman asks next. You’ve moved a bit from your area at the pool, following Matsson as he slowly circles the water. 

“Yeah, I am. I’m just a little Swedish, you know? I’m.. into equality.” He moves nonchalantly, like this deal isn’t as serious as it is. “I like getting into bed with people, but I also like to share it equally.”

“More of a merge than a takeover.” It isn’t a question, and it isn’t directed at Lukas. You turn to Roman as you say it, verbalizing what you both were thinking. Lukas just hums, doesn’t articulate a response. Even though you all know what it would be. 

“Okay. We’re just… heading to Milan to lock things down with our Dad and the bankers. And the tweet- it just didn’t feel great. If you’re hoping to blow this whole thing up, just tell me, okay?” Roman’s anxiety is back, you can see it in the tense way he’s started to move, in the higher tone of his voice.

“I just want to get myself the best. Of everything.” Lukas looks at you when he says it, darts his tongue out to lick his bottom lip. Roman’s too lost in his own head to notice it, or notice the way your breath catches in your throat. 

“Yeah, I fucking get that. Definlety.” Roman moves to pull out his phone, cursing under his breath when he reads a notification. “I uh- have to take a call really quickly. I’ll be in the boat, it shouldn’t take too long. Okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll give her a tour.” Lukas shrugs, sounding indifferent. Rome nods at him, then you, and quickly takes off towards the dock, already lifting the phone up to his ear as he walks. 

You watch him leave, round the corner and leave your line of vision before turning to Lukas, face neutral save for a hint of a smile. He’s less composed than you, smiling broadly and staring into your eyes. He walks closer to you, wraps his arm around the small of your back.

“Wanna show me around?” You raise your eyebrows in question, slightly rocking back and forth on your feet. He sighs quietly, nods, and moves to extend an arm for you to hold. 

“There’s really not much to see. Your average rich person house.” You hold his arm, walking with him into the villa as he speaks. 

The interior is nice. Well, you’re sure it cost several million dollars to furnish, but that was the standard you were used to. It’s Italian inspired with a few modern elements. You take note of the high end appliances everywhere you go. A thousand dollar air purifier, a ten thousand dollar toilet, a hundred thousand dollar refrigerator. Lukas really did want the best for himself. The downstairs looks strangely perfect, like there wasn’t really anyone living there. Everything is clean and immaculate, no traces of human life. This trend continues into the upstairs, only stopping when he shows you the primary bedroom. His bedroom.

It’s simply decorated, a bed, desk, dresser. A large TV mounted on the wall across from his bed, nightstands, some artwork on the walls. There are a few large windows on the farthest side of the room, offering a view to the lake. Most things are black, or gray, with a few navy blue accents here and there. You had slipped off your shoes when walking around the house, now you let the fall to the floor from dangling on your finger. Stepping into the room, you walk until you round the bed, seeing a camping sleep matt rolled up and leaning on a wall. The sight brings a little smile to your face before you turn to Lukas’s desk, fingers grazing softly against the wood of it. 

He has a Macbook laying on it, a pair of over-ear headphones sitting next to it. There’s a cup with a few pencils and pens, a box of tissues. It’s not much, but it’s something. Above his desk sit a few wall mounted bookshelves, made of the same wood. The books on them are mostly motivational, shit that he definitely hasn’t read. One thing does catch your eye though, an older coding textbook written in Swedish. It looks worn, the spine cracked and the pages wrinkled. Your fingers move to trace along the row of books, following them until the shelf ends and you meet the wall behind it. 

“I like it. Very you.” You move your gaze back to Lukas, who’s been leaning in the doorway, watching you explore.

“Very me?”

“It’s exactly what I pictured.” You walk up to him as he steps inside, right at the foot of the bed, just a few inches apart. “Have you really been sleeping on a mat on the floor?”

“Yeah…” You wrap your hands around the back of his neck as his sentence trails off and he moves to grab your hips, closing the distance between you.

“Lukas, just sleep on the mattress. Your back is gonna get all fucked up.”

“Probably. I just- I don’t trust it. I want something I know is good, you know?”  His reasoning makes you roll your eyes.

“It’s better than a camping mat.”

“Hey- that’s the best camping mat money can buy.”

Your hand moves to cup his face, bringing him to you and planting a light kiss on his mouth. He tries to deepen it, follows your face when you pull away, looks like a sad puppy when you deny him.

“So you haven’t used the mattress at all…?” You smirk, quirking your eyebrows teasingly.

“Not yet…” Lukas grins, his eyes traveling from yours to your lips. “Why? Do you wanna help me break it in?”

You don’t answer, just smile, roll your eyes playfully, and move away from him. You turn so your back is facing the bed, and with all the drama you can muster, flop down onto the mattress. It cushions your fall nicely, though you do get left a bit breathless and giggly. Your knees dangle off the side of the bed, feet almost grazing the ground as you kick your legs. 

“It’s really not bad.” You don’t bother raising your head, just direct your words to him knowing he’ll hear. “Not the best, but definitely ‘trustworthy.’” Laughing when he sighs in response, you throw your arms up and stretch theatrically.

You feel a hand on your knee, spreading your thighs wider apart. He slots himself between your legs, moves his hand to your waist, and pulls you quickly to him. The bed is high enough that your hips meet each other roughly, a gasp escaping your mouth at the sudden pressure on your vulva. Lukas is already half hard, and making the most subtle movements to grind you perfectly against his cock. 

“Lukas… Roman is just outside…” You’re already a bit breathless, still allowing him to rub against you as you speak. He leans close to you, tall frame bending at the waist to brush his lips against your ear, still keeping his hips flush to your as he moves. 

“I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” He places a kiss to your jawline, starting a messy trail down your neck. Lukas pauses to nip the slope of your shoulder. “And you’ll have to be quiet.”

He lifts his head, eyes staring straight into yours, and waits for your response. Your lips are already parted, breath coming quick and cheeks flushed with desire. The lust clouds your judgment, as it always seems to do with Lukas. Impulse takes over and, with a hand threaded into his hair, you pull his mouth to yours roughly.  

It’s rushed and powerful. All teeth and tongue, no time for being gentle, no time for romantics. You bite his lip, he groans into your open mouth. Your legs move around his hips, keeping his body close as he ruts against your clothed core. His movements started soft and teasing, but now he’s fully thrusting against you, rough and wanting. It feels hard and hot, has your eyes shutting and your mouth whimpering. You love being close to him like this, hearing his panting in your ear, his lips on your throat, his chest pressed to yours. But it’s not quite enough. 

“Fuck Lukas, I need more.” He pulls his head from his attack on your throat, looks at you with a grin on his face.

“You need more?” You nod, a little frantically with a small hum. “Look at you, asking for things. Tell me what you want.”

You’re a bit hesitant, cheeks still red from the vulgarity of your situation. Your mouth opens and then closes again, biting your lower lip as you try to find the right words. His hand comes to your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forces your eye contact with him. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I just want to feel you- really feel you.” Honestly, you don’t know exactly what you want. You’re so needy, you can feel how uncomfortably wet you’ve gotten and just need some kind of satisfaction. “You can fuck me.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, not yet. I have plans for that, it’ll be special.” His words are a little shocking, but turn you on even more.

“Please Lukas. I need you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, laced with want. The motion of his hips has stopped and you feel yourself desperately grind yourself against him for some relief. His hands move to your hips to hold you in place, releasing the grip on your chin.

“I’m not taking your virginity in a quickie where I can’t even get you naked. And you need to be able to walk after this.” He moves and pushes your dress up, exposing the lower half of your body. “Here you’ll like this.”

 Your panties are soaked. His gaze moves down and he notices, gives a small chuckle, runs a finger up your clothed slit. It makes you shudder and whine deeply in your throat as a response. Hooking a finger around both sides of your panties, he pulls the fabric off with one quick motion, dropping them to the floor when he’s finished. He moves from between your thighs briefly, causing you to instinctively shut your legs. Lukas pulls down his pants then, just enough to expose his cock, hard and leaking already.

He moves back, uses a hand to gently spread your legs as the other grips the base of his cock. He’s so close, his dick hovering just above your cunt. Your eyes go wide with anticipation, a light gasp escapes from your lips. Then, Lukas moves. His hips angle downwards and, using his hand to guide his cock, he gently rubs his length over your slit. The feeling is immediately intense. It’s wet and strong and burning, and when his tip touches your clit you swear your vision goes white. You really can’t help the moan that escapes you, it’s Lukas that caused it. 

“Shhh… I know, I know. But you don’t want someone to hear.” He leans over you, presses a light kiss to your mouth and grabs one of your hands. Moving your hand over your mouth, he helps you press your palm to your lips, muffling the noises coming from your lips. You nod in response, keeping your hand there when he moves his away, gripping back on to your hips to hold you in place. “Don’t want everyone to know how I’m corrupting you.”

Another moan leaves your mouth at that, luckily much quieter due to your palm. Your free hand flys down, grips over his on your hip. He keeps moving, parting your lips and spreading wetness across your pussy, hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust. A curse leaves his throat when your back begins to arch, the white hot feeling in your cunt growing fast. You can almost feel the restraint leaving his body, feel the roll of his hips getting heavier, harsher. A tear rolls down your cheek, your eyes wet with the sheer strength of this new pleasure you’re experiencing. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, so quiet for me.” Lukas’s accent is thicker now, his head tipping back in pleasure as he ruts against you with abandon, chasing his climax. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

That’s all it really takes for you to fall apart, cumming on his cock. Your orgasm hits in a wave, making your thighs shake and eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You’re incredibly glad for the hand on your mouth as it muffles the high moan that leaves your lips. You don’t see him with your eyes shut, but the groans you hear let you know that Lukas is not far behind you. A few mascara stained tears run from your eyes when you open them again, your gaze being met with Lukas’s head tilted toward the ceiling, his mouth open in pleasure. 

His cock moves from your cunt, positioning over your lower stomach. His hand moves, jerking himself roughly as he looks down to meet your eyes. Your hand moves from your mouth, and you sit up a bit as you reach for him, fingers coming to rest on his hip to keep him close to you. Another low curse falls from his mouth, and with a gravely groan he cums. White ropes shoot across your stomach, resting on your skin warmly. You whimper in sympathy, watching as he twitches and bucks against his hand recklessly. 

Lukas’s chest rises and falls quickly, breath coming fast and deep as his orgasm washes over him. When his eyes reopen, he’s quick to pull you up to meet his mouth with a burning kiss. The kiss isn’t long, but when you pull away he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut and breathing slowly returning to normal. You stay that way for a while, just close and quiet. A few moments pass, and when he moves to stand back up you take the time to dart your hand down and gather up some of the cum on your pelvis, licking it off your finger as you raise it to your mouth.

He quietly laughs, blissed out and smiley. “You love that, don’t you?”

“Mhm. I don’t know- ‘just makes me feel close to you.” He kisses you again, softly this time, almost proud.

“I’m making a monster. First you ask me to fuck you and now you’re swallowing my cum.” He moves to his dresser, retrieving a hand towel as you sit on the bed, careful to not let any of his spend drip onto the sheets. 

“Why didn’t you fuck me?” Your head tilts as you ask. He moves to kneel in front of you, gently wiping the cum from your skin as he answers.

“I told you, I’m gonna make it special for your first time.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll even let you be my first time, now that you’ve rejected me.” It’s playful and he knows it, grinning up at you as he moves to wipe the wetness from the inside of your thighs.

“It wasn’t a rejection, it was a postponing.” Lukas stands, quickly cleaning off before tucking himself away and turning to look for your panties. “And who else would it be? Are you cheating on me?”

“No, but I can’t cheat on you if weren’t not together.” He pauses at that, head cocking as he makes eye contact with you.

“We aren’t together?”

“You haven’t asked me!”

“I thought it was self-evident. You don’t need to ask if it’s already obvious.” Lukas stoops to grab your panties from the floor, moving to hand them to you. 

You accept the fabric in an outstretched hand, setting it on the bed next to you. “Well, I would like you to ask. Make it official.”

He gives a dramatic sigh, reaches out and grabs your hands to pull you to standing. Lukas holds your hands, smiles and looks into your eyes. “Will you date me?”

You think about teasing him, making him wait, but your excitement gets the best of you and you release your answer quickly. “Yes, I will date you, Lukas Matsson.”

Your kiss is domestic and cheesy, after you separate he pulls you back into his body, rests his chin on your head for a while while he holds you close. You end up leaving your panties with him, they're still too wet to wear comfortably. Lukas helps you fix your makeup and hair, and you check to make sure your lip gloss isn’t all over his mouth (it was). He fastens your shoes back on for you, kneeling in front of you so you don’t have to bend over with your still shaky legs. He holds your hand until you reach outside and you put some space between yourselves as you enter public once more.

Roman is just finishing his call when you get back to the boat, waving at you as he quickly hangs up. You give Lukas a handshake, Rome just shouts his goodbye from a distance, and you quickly speed off again across the lake as soon as you enter the boat. Once again separated, you swear you immediately feel heavier without Lukas’s presence.

Your brother thinks the deal is fucked, he makes that clear when you’re alone again. He half blames you, half blames himself. Either way, he’s scared shitless to tell your dad about Matsson’s merge idea. So it’s a major shock when you arrive in Milan and Logan is receptive to the proposal. He praises Roman openly for once, and even commends you on your role in negotiating the deal.

But good things don’t tend to stay good for long in your family. You know something’s wrong when Logan calls you and Shiv into his office abruptly, right before your meeting with the bankers is supposed to begin. It honestly doesn’t surprise you as much as some would think to learn Roman had been sexting Gerri. You try to defend him against Shiv’s attacks, but it doesn’t do much good, not when the evidence is sitting in front of you. At the very least, you make some kind of progress covering for Gerri, reminding your dad of her loyalty. 

Things are weird and fucked the next day. The night before Comfrey had texted you to let you know that Kendall was in the hospital. She wouldn’t say what happened, just that they were keeping him overnight and he was okay. You texted your siblings but everyone was skirting around the answer with you. They knew you cared about Kendall, maybe too much, and that telling you he had nearly drowned (possibly by his own doing) would set you off like a firework.

You wanted to go visit Kendall the next day, or be there when he arrived at the villa, or just do something to help him out. But he didn’t answer your calls and all the information you were given was extremely vague. You weren’t invited to Caroline’s wedding ceremony, so you planned on staying in bed and Facetiming with Lukas all day, waiting for a response from your brother. Your day starts off that way, sleeping in and chatting with your boyfriend into the late morning, but then Lukas tells you about Gojo’s market cap. You knew he was good, you knew he was doing all he could to get the market in Gojo’s favor, but you never expected it’s worth would surpass Waystar’s.

It’s no surprise that your dad ends up calling you, recruiting you to join him on a trip to Matsson’s. When he tells you he’s considering not inviting Roman, you manage to convince him to bring him too, citing his friendship with Matsson as a cause. So you head to Lake Maggiore, again, and arrive at Lukas Matsson’s villa, again. The excitement you feel when seeing him is shrouded in the anxiety of the sudden meeting. 

You feel like every glance between the two of you is obvious. The way he parts his lips, the way your eyes drift across his frame, it’s all unmistakable of two lovers. 

Lukas leads the three of you to an outdoor area on his grounds and when the conversation starts, his intent is clear. He didn’t tell you he wanted to buy Waystar, well he may have hinted at it, but it still feels like a bit of a betrayal. Like a shock. Even worse of a shock, Logan doesn’t immediately hate it, not in his usual way.

“Yeah. This is not happening.” The rage isn’t there behind Logan’s words. His gaze drifts to Roman, then back to Matsson. Lukas raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, I see that. Understood. But, you want to stick around? See if the old deal still has shape? Side snacks?” Logan smiles, he actually smiles, at Matsson’s offer. “You have that Israeli AI operation I might like. Maybe an asset swap sort of thing?”

“Why not.” The eye contact between Lukas and your dad is never ending. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Rome, you should head back. For your mom, and everything.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Roman looks to you, motions with his thumb in the general direction of the dock. “Do you wanna…?”

“I’m not going to the wedding. Not invited.” You offer a small smile, look to Logan for reassurance. 

“We’ll catch up with you later, Romulus.” 

Roman is dejected. An intruder, again. An outsider in the deal he’s worked so hard on, the deal he partially started. “Alright. Hate to miss the big nuptials! So… yeah. I’ll just go do that then…” He’s hesitant to go, pats you on the leg as he leaves, Dad on the shoulder.

They wait to start speaking again until well after he’s left, and when they do it’s straight to business. Your dad wants to sell. Lukas wants to buy. You’re the reluctant bridge between. Things move inside, to a formal dining room, and the real discussion begins. Numbers start to fly, calls get made, lawyers begin flying out. You end up doing more work than you meant to, arguing for both GoJo and Waystar. Trying desperately to keep all the men in your life happy. At the same time, you’re conflicted. You know your siblings will hate this deal, you know how badly they want to inherit the company, how hard they’ve worked for one of them to eventually be CEO.

But the thing is, you don’t hate the deal. You were never going to lead Waystar, never going to be more than the founder’s child. You’re the youngest Roy sibling, a woman, and from a different marriage than the others. There was no chance of you ever being number one, and you knew that from the day you were born. So why not sell the company? You don’t want to dedicate your entire life to this soul crushing work. At the same time, you care so much for your family, more than you do for yourself. This would wreck your siblings, they wanted Waystar more than they wanted life itself. Even if being family owned fucks you, it means the world to them.

 When you finally leave Lukas’s, it’s well past the wedding ceremony, and it’s clear Dad doesn’t intend on joining the afterparty. The operation moves to Logan’s villa. The cavalry marches in, dressed in designer suits and holding briefcases stuffed with Macbooks. There’s dozens of people you’ve never even met swarming around a huge table. It doesn’t even feel real, like you’re watching a dream, or a nightmare, play out in front of you. You retire to your dads private office, curl up on a leather upholstered couch and just think. You know you should tell your siblings. Siobhan and Roman have been blowing up your phone for hours, you haven’t had the heart to answer. Your dad would kill you if you reached out. Ostracize you like Roman, or disown you like Kendall. Your brain feels like a whirlpool, your thoughts flying around enough to give you a headache. You turn to the only person you can think of.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“...”

“Are you okay?” Lukas’s voice is genuinely worried, silence isn’t normal in the conversations between you two. You hear a rustling on the other line like he’s stood up.

“I don’t really know. I wish you were here.” 

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I feel like a traitor.”

“Why?”

“My siblings… you know they will hate this deal.” You stress the word hate, voice a little bit breathless with anxiety. 

“I do.” His voice is quiet, almost whispering as he speaks to you.

“They would rather die than sell Waystar. But I-” You sigh, swallow thickly. “I almost agree with Dad. I think this is a good move for us. Not just because I’m fucking the guy who’s buying the company.”

“Well then, why do you agree?”

“If we don’t sell, we’re gonna get swallowed whole. All we have is the content, not the platform to back it up, not new technology to keep us relevant.”

“That’s all true.” Lukas’s voice gets a little louder, his sentences trailing off a bit as he prompts you to keep talking.

“But even if we had that, even if we were doing better, we were more stable…”

“You still would want to sell?” He already knows what’s on your mind. Of course he does.

“I think so… I mean, I will never be CEO. Not if we’re family owned, not if we’re owned by GoJo, never. And I don’t want to spend my life in this company, especially if I’m not running it.” Your head tips back against the wall you’re leaning on. You’re hiding away in a bathroom, your voice echoing a bit as it bounces off the marble walls. “This work… it fucking destroys people.” 

“It sounds like you already know what you think.”

“But Shiv and Roman and Kendall… They want the company so badly. They’ve been prepped to run it since they were kids. Even if they kill each other for CEO, at least one of them would get what they wanted.” You’re louder now, voice still stressed but frustration peaking through.

“You need to stop wasting your life making other people happy. You would do anything for your family, and they wouldn’t do shit for you.” Lukas’s tone isn’t angry or yelling, it’s stating a fact.

“That’s not true-”

“Is it? I see you go above and beyond for them every single day, and they never spare you a second glance.” Lukas’s voice is almost pleading when he speaks next. “Think about yourself, for once. Please.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes are brimmed with tears, your fingers coming up to brush them away quickly. “I will.”

There’s a small pause before he talks again. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you about buying Waystar?” You laugh, breathlessly, at the simpleness of his question after all you’ve just talked about.

“No, I’m not mad. I was shocked…but I think it’s worn off. You’re just doing what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“I think you’re really smart actually. If I was in your position I’d do the same thing.” You move from your stance against the wall to look in the mirror, checking to fix any smudged mascara.

“That’s what I thought. I asked myself what you would do.”

“No, you did not.”

“No, I did not. I did think about how it would affect you though.”

“Thank you for that.” It’s half sarcastic, but you know he really does care for you. 

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll talk to you later today.”

“Okay. Come visit soon.” Lukas ends like he always does, asking for your presence. 

“I’ll try.”

It takes you a minute to compose yourself. Fix your hair, wipe off some of your fucked up concealer, blow your nose. You exit the bathroom, walk down the hall and down some stairs, finally arriving in front of the massive wooden doors leading to your dad’s office. Your brain is finally quieter now, thoughts forming clearer and headache fading quickly. You slip a small smile to the bodyguard, Colin, who opens the door for you to enter. 

Your three siblings are there, backs facing the door as they stare down Logan, who’s just moved to press a button on the phone resting against his desk. Their heads snap to you. The door shuts behind you. Siobhan opens her mouth, but you speak before she does.

“What’s going on? When did you get here?”

“What’s going on? You know what’s going on, Dad is selling and fucking our entire lives up.” Shiv faces you, her eyes are daggers and her body is a rocket about to explode. “And you didn’t tell us.”

“No, he’s not fucking your lives up. It’s not the end of the world, Shiv.” You approach them, eyes wide and pleading. 

“So you do know. You knew he was selling the company and you didn’t think ‘Hmm maybe I should tell my siblings this, you know, since they’ve spent their entire lives thinking they were going to run Waystar!’” Roman throws his hands up, his jaw is clenched and his eyes are watering.

“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” Your voice drops, both in tone and volume. “Do you really think I have any sort of control? Any say in what happens?”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, Kendall won’t make eye contact with you. Logan is watching you intently before gazing at his other children’s faces.

“I have never, and will never, be number one. I will never have control over the company, I will never even have control over one branch of the company. I will never be CEO, I won’t even make it to CFO, because I will always be lower than you. And I will always be there for you to yell at and use and manipulate. You already fucking do!” You’re more angry than sad now, maybe it’s misdirected, but you’re too wound up to care. “For once in my life, I’m thinking about myself. And I will not let this shit, this work, destroy me like it has destroyed you.”

A few tears spill from your eyes, you don’t bother to wipe them up, just continue your eye contact with your siblings. You’re right and everyone knows it, from Gerri and Karl sitting on the couch to Logan in front of you. Shiv can’t hold your gaze anymore, she drops her eyes to the ground. Roman turns to your Dad, his eyes are wide and desperate.

“Please?” His voice is meek, barely a whisper.

“‘Please?’ You bust in here with guns, but now that you find they’ve turned to fucking sausages, you want to say ‘please?’” Logan moves from where he was half-sitting on the arm of a couch to stand in front of your siblings. “You should have trusted me.”

“Dad, why?” 

“Oh you need me to tell you why? Like your sister didn’t already? But your too fucking ashamed to admit she’s right.” He begins walking to the door, past your siblings, pausing at you to put a hand on your shoulder. “Because it works. I fucking win. Now go on, go on, fuck off you nosey fucking pedestrians.” 

The doors open, Logan is immediately tasked with papers to sign and business to attend to. Roman moves to Jerri, asks her something you don’t quite hear from the blood rushing in your ears, before moving back to the crowd of your siblings. Roman crumples to the floor, Kendall with his hands on his shoulders, Shiv next to them. You turn to see Tom entering, him offering you a weak smile as he passes.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Kendall.” Your voice is monotone. Ken looks up at you, opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. Tom starts speaking to Shiv, but you don’t hear what he says, already turning to walk out the doors, to head back to your hotel suite, to head away from your family. 

You stay on the phone with Lukas the rest of that night. You can’t sleep but you don’t want to be awake. He eases the pain. He says he’s proud of you. He cares more than anyone you’ve known. 

When you finally fall asleep in the early morning hours, you dream of space. You’re a cosmonaut, dancing on Saturn’s rings, playing baseball with meteors. The darkness is liminal, and pure, and calm. And the constellations are breathing around you, lighting your lawless orbit. You break the trail of a comet, its fire dotting the sky like a stitch on black cloth. Venus is a stray dog, following you wherever you lead it, spinning for attention and praise. Stars flicker like faces, you can’t recognize who they are anymore.

 When you touch the Earth, everything sings.

© secondhand-snow 2024

[invertedheaven]

If You Really Love Nothing

chapter 13: such scenes for things that i regret

chapter index | next chapter

Sukuna mumbled your name so quietly, it was enough for yuji to hold his breath as he waited for sukuna to continue “does she have a kid?”

Yujis eyes widened and he subconsciously took a few steps backwards, his heart was beating so fast he swears you’d be able to hear it thudding. How sukuna found this out was still a complete mystery, yuji swallowed slowly trying to think of words to say but this was not his conversation to have. Did sukuna talk to you? Or Gojo? Yuji genuinely had no words, nor was he ready for this.

Sukuna saw how yuji was caught off guard by the question and he could see how hard yuji was thinking, if it was any other time maybe sukuna would’ve allowed himself to laugh at how bad his brother was at lying, but right now he just wants some answers

“I don’t know” yuji finally spoke up, but he didn’t make eye contact and instead had his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him

“Bullshit” sukuna spat out “try again”

Yuji knew sukuna would know he was lying but he tried anyways, he wants to think he wouldn’t have given in as easily as he is right now

“She does” yuji answered even more quiet than the first time

Sukuna feels every beat of his heart and is painfully aware of his own breathing. He really didn’t think this would’ve been an outcome and he feels as if this is all a very bad joke.

Yuji felt like he knew what the next question was, but his main concern is how sukuna came about asking these questions. Not that he thinks Sukuna is stupid but his brothers general apathy had given yuji hope that sukuna wouldn’t have found out on his own, especially with how careful you and gojo were being

“Is it gojos kid?” Sukuna spoke lowly and yuji closed his eyes in acceptance that Sukuna isn’t asking out of cluelessness, he’s asking to confirm what he’s already suspicious of so lying would do nothing but make things worse

Yuji doesn’t answer, at least not verbally, as much as he had been hoping that sukuna would eventually know the truth yuji didn’t want it to be this way— with all the pressure on him. So instead all yuji does is shake his head no in response, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

Sukuna laughed a humorless, dry laugh. If the kid wasn’t gojos, then it had to be his, there was no one else you were with 4 years ago. And yet he still refuses to accept it, its really not a situation he’d ever expected to find himself in.

“Whose kid is it, yuji” sukuna asked with a hint of what sounded like desperation in his voice

“I think you… need to talk to her, I can’t answer this” the use of his name had him taken aback but yuji spoke with faltering confidence and looked sukuna directly in his eyes. This isn’t his issue and he wasn’t going to be the one to break the news, it’s not what you would’ve wanted either.

“Why aren’t you answering? Do you think you owe her some sort of loyalty?” Sukuna snapped

Yuji furrowed his brows at this, he hated to hear sukuna talk ill of you. Sure yuji doesn’t “owe” you loyalty but you’ve been nothing but kind to yuji, on top of never speaking bad about sukuna. He truly wonders how you and his brother were ever a thing considering the vastly different worlds you lived in.

“This isn’t my conversation to have, sukuna” yuji bit back, now it was his brothers turn to refuse to make eye contact

Sukuna stood unmoved from the doorway, partially in shock at this revelation. Just a few hours ago his priority was entirely different than whatever the fuck it was now. At first he was just trying to gauge how difficult it'd be to get you back from gojo and now it was an entirely different beast, it was a kid-- HIS kid apparently.

Emotions that he never thought he’d feel when thinking about you flood his mind. You were the only person he had that he felt genuine love for, an emotion foreign to him simply because he believes he hadn’t been born with such grace on his side. Not out of pity for himself, just a genuine observation. Everything fell into place when he was with you, and he found himself clinging to your every word and action as if it was gospel. And he knows that kind of control you had over him—intentional or not, was what scared him.

There was no way he was going to sleep or even attempt to sleep. So instead he decides he’s going to get answer-- now. For the first time he finds himself at a standstill, theres not really a way he can just sleep this off but he didn’t feel like a call or text was appropriate.

If he called or texted you, you’d easily avoid his questions not just that but he wouldn’t be able to see your body language. He used to pride himself on being able to tell when you’re lying to him, but he thinks he’s lost that privilege. Youre clearly not the same person he knew and it distressed him. All of this was too much for his mind to settle with— you being capable of hiding something so important from him. Maybe a few hours ago he’d rethink his next choices for your sake but in his mind this situation he was put in didn’t really require him to be courteous.

Of course not without thinking about his ungrateful brother. If yuji caught wind that sukuna intended to go to Gojos house at this hour he’d surely tell you or fushiguro and that would give you time to either leave or come up with some lie. He needed to catch you off guard, since you clearly had no issue with lying to his face.

Sukuna scoffed “Fine”

Yuji watched as his brother turned around getting ready to leave the house again and it made him jump a little in surprise as he realized sukuna didn’t plan on staying home

“Where are you going?” Yuji asked— dumbly and nervously, but he was met with silence

“Sukuna its late, come on-“ yuji began again but he was cut off

“Lets go. You said I should ask her, so let’s do that” sukunas voice was eerily calm and yuji felt his stomach turn

It felt like he’d been caught red handed, growing up he’d been able to get away with most things he’d gotten in trouble for simply because his grandfather was too old to care. Yuji thinks maybe the is what it was like to be afraid of your parents finding out you did something bad. His breathing was getting heavier as he realized you’d probably think this was his fault, and his head spun as he thought about how sukuna probably hated him even more now.

“I didn’t mean right now! Sh- she’s probably asleep or—“ yuji stuttered out

“Then she can wake up” sukuna interrupted “Lets. Go.”

Yuji gulped and clenched his fists he knew it was pointless to argue but he still felt the need to try “Can’t you just call her or something? We can wait til tomorrow we can go first thing in the morning” but all sukuna did was stare with an unreadable expression on his face.

Yuji realized sukuna was waiting for him to move and he didn’t know what to do first. Yuji turned around to grab his phone and keys from the table but sukuna spoke up “Leave it”

“But my phone-“ yuji began

“I know, I said leave it” sukuna repeated, if it sounded fucked up that he wanted to catch you off guard he didnt really care. He thinks the kid you’re probably hiding is a lot worse.

Yuji cursed to himself, he hated how it seems like sukuna read his mind. Yuji had every intention of alerting you or megumi he didn’t want you to be blindsided or feel ambushed by his brother, he had to force himself to swallow down a rude response to his brother because yujis guilt was too overwhelming that even if he wanted to help you, the idea of “betraying” his brother again made his stomach twist.

The car was filled with a suffocating silence, it was hard to describe. Yuji felt it was similar to when your head is underwater and the world becomes muffled and the only thing you can really sense is your breathing. He feels it become harder to catch his breath and the moment the silence in the car breaks would be like when you finally lift your head out of the water. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath, simply out of fear that if sukuna so much as heard him breathe he would say something. Yet, sukuna didn’t say a single word… yuji wondered if he was even paying attention to the road considering how disconnected he seemed.

Yuji didn’t really wonder how sukuna knew where you lived because the one of the few conditions sukuna had when yuji first moved in (aside from not being too loud) was to share his location with sukuna at all times. It makes sense but yuji never thought his brother paid any attention to that, considering he always asked where yuji had been. Yuji felt incredibly naïve to think that sukuna wouldn’t take that opportunity to figure out your address.

Meanwhile, Sukuna doesn’t feel like its quiet enough. He can still hear the pot holes he drives over, the muffled sound of wind hitting his car and the sound of the turn signals as he drives. It was all too loud as he tries to think of what he’s going to say to you. He wonders why he even brought yuji with him, it’s not like there would be any benefit he had heard enough from him for the night. Yet the idea of going to see you alone seemed jarring, even if yuji clearly showed that he chose you over his own brother, at least if yuji was there Sukuna wouldn’t face you with no one behind him. He finds himself frustrated with the thought that he didn’t want to be alone. He consistently tried to convince himself that through his solitude was how he has gotten so far, yet the past few months had grown increasingly challenging as he realized you moved forward without him, and now yuji is slowly but surely replacing him. He’s not even sure what makes him have this train of thought it sounds self pitying and pathetic in sukunas opinion but he cant get it out of his head. Maybe it’s the idea that its him being left behind, instead of him leaving you behind, he doesn’t linger too long on the thought that it has to be some sort of underlying abandonment issue.

And the worst part about this is the kid— he has a fucking kid? But as screwed up as it sounded his first thought wasn’t to see his kid, no… it was to see you. The anger he felt… he wasn’t even sure where it stemmed from, he never felt passionately about having a kid, it wasn’t even a reality he’d imagined for himself but it was more the principle of the matter— that you looked in his eyes that night you dropped yuji off and still denied him the truth. And its that thought that causes his heart to twist uncomfortably and for him to anxiously (although he’d never admit that) run his hand through his hair as he stares at the red light that seemed to be taking too long on purpose, as if it knew he wanted to get to you as soon as possible.

————

“I thought you said you were good at this” you laughed

“I am! This is the best wrapping i’ve ever seen what are you talking about?” Gojo responded, in complete seriousness

You and Gojo had decided to wrap the kids christmas presents considering it was 2 days away. You were both sat in your matching pajamas (a gag gift from gojo that you and the kids were “honored” to receive according to him) on the living room floor trying your best to make the presents look pretty. Gojo swears he’s amazing but Airi could probably do better than him at this point, it surprised you because he was usually good at most things he did.

Gojo in all honesty was tired from the work “party” (if thats what people want to call it, he sure wont) but he felt as if he needed this distraction. Going to bed with a bitter taste in his mouth about his day had him disgruntled, so you suggested wrapping the gifts and eating leftover cake from megumis birthday. You opted for wrapping megumis presents so they looked decent considering they were expensive and since airi couldn’t care less about presentation all she cares about is the actual present, gojos “expertise” were perfect for her gifts.

Megumi got a new gaming console, headset and a few new games while Airi got pretty much her whole list. From a new doll house, to new dolls, a fake kitchen play set (which you find ironic since she’s so picky), nail polish, and new plushies. You tried to convince gojo to not go all out but he insisted. You don’t get too bothered because if megumi had asked for more gojo would’ve done the same for him, you think maybe thats just the best way gojo can show his affection. And each time he always insists that its from the both of you even if you contributed nothing financially. It eats away at your conscience and you cant help but feel guilty every year.

“Y’know airi should start pre-school or something soon” you sighed as you cut across the glittery red wrapping paper— also gojos choice, you probably would’ve chosen something less difficult to tape the glitter made it hard for the tape to stick so you had to use a lot but at least it was pretty.

“No, she does not have you seen the other kids these days? All terrible” Gojo looked at you with disgust

“Satoru she doesn’t have anybody her age around her, her social skills are going to be horrible if I don’t at least do a day care or school” you argued

“Who cares about that, megumi lacks social skills and he’s doing just fine” gojo said as he waved the scissors in his hand around (he was lying through his teeth)

You scrunched up your nose and shook your head “not the best example, he barely stopped getting in fights this year”

Gojo rolled his eyes as he went back to poorly wrapping the dog plushie airi asked for, you told him to use a bag but he did his own thing “well I think shes fine, what if you put her in dance or a sport at least until kindergarten”

The both of you sat in silence for the next few minutes as you contemplated the idea, maybe she would like to do something fun that could be a hobby but its so hard when she’s so indecisive, she’s only 3 its not like you expect her to be invested in anything. The topic of the future made you anxious, and for some reason there was already a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you thought it was just your usual rush of anxiety that constant sense of impending doom but it just felt different today, so you opted to change the subject again… maybe if you don’t think about it you’ll be fine.

“She’s gonna love the kitchen” you giggled as you watched gojo very pathetically attempt to wrap it

“Do I need to wrap this?” Gojo whined “Genuinely will this even work” it was a giant box because the toy still needed to be assembled. You could already picture yourself annoyed at the instructions, sometimes kids toys made no sense.

“Probably not but I was waiting for you to figure that out” you laughed while gojo just glared at you

Your laugh was abruptly cut off by the sound of knocking on the front door (If you could’ve call it that it sounded more like someone was kicking the door.) Your voice caught in your throat as you and gojo made eye contact, it was a little too late to be expecting visitors and your mind already started thinking the worst, like maybe it was one of your neighbors having an emergency. Sukuna so far from your mind as you were lulled into a false sense of security with gojo, wrapping presents pretending like it was always going to be like this.

“Im gonna check on airi” you whispered

Gojo nodded but you don’t know what compelled you to wait until he approached the door.

Gojo looked through the peephole trying to see who it was and you watched as his posture changed. His shoulders slumped and he dropped his arms clenching one of his fists at his side. You moved to see who it was but gojo wouldn’t budge

You furrowed your brow “what is it?” You whispered, a little annoyed that he wasn’t moving

Gojo just dropped his head to look at the floor and sighed letting your question hang in silence

“Satoru seriously what is it?” You almost want to laugh not because theres anything funny but because you’re nervous

Gojo didn’t really know how to tell you that sukuna was on the other side of the door with an unpleasant look on his face (not that his face ever looked pleasant in gojos humble opinion). But the man looked angry, and gojo hated to think about what could possibly have him looking like that. Internally Gojo prepared himself for the possibility of sukuna having found out about airi, and he knew you’d probably want him on standby by to make sure airi is okay.

“Its sukuna” gojo mumbled

Your eyes widen as your heart beat sped up, almost immediately your entire body had such a visceral reaction “what do you mean sukuna? he’s here?” You asked for clarification even if gojo was perfectly clear

Gojo nodded and looked at you with a pained expression “he looks displeased”

You swallowed thickly, trying to even out your breathing “maybe he’ll go away”

But he kept knocking and it caused you to jump slightly while gojo snapped his head back to the door

You felt your feet glued to the same spot, you couldn’t move it was almost as if your brain wasn’t even in charge of your body anymore. Your breathing became erratic and it became harder to control, you tried to think of any possibility he would have for coming to your home so late. Your eyes widened as you thought maybe it was an emergency with yuji but before you could voice that gojo spoke up

“We have to answer it, the knockings gonna wake up airi” he told you calmly “do you want me to answer it first?” He wasn’t too concerned about megumi because he was probably awake watching something with his headphones on at a way too loud volume to be considered normal. He knew you weren’t really processing that sukuna was outside your door so he put his hand on your shoulder and said your name but the look in your eyes told him you were far from present.

“Im going to answer you can wait right here” he maneuvered you just out of sight at the entrance of the kitchen which was next to the front door

———

Sukuna grew more agitated with each passing second. Why weren’t you answering the door? he knows you’re awake, last time he checked you were a night owl. Never asleep before 1 am no matter what, but that was 4 years ago, had you really changed that much? He remembers why he came and the sudden softness he felt for you hardens quickly.

Sukuna shouted your name “Answer the door, I know you’re in there!” as he continued to knock and as he was met with a few more moments of silence he got prepared to knock again but before his now red knuckles could hit the door again, it swung open. Sukuna scowled as he saw who had answered and gojo returned the expression

“Is there something I can help you with? Do you know what time it is? We have neighbors.” gojo asked loudly— so much for ‘be quiet its late’

“Im not here to talk to you, you idiot” Sukuna snapped

Gojo realized sukuna had a look in his eyes that screamed unease. Like he was hanging on by a thread and it made gojo almost slam the door in his face because there was no way you were going to talk to Sukuna when he looked like that. But before he could make that decision for you he saw you move out of the corner of his eye, you came to stand slightly behind him but next to him. He looked down at you with the silent question of ‘what are you doing’ written on his face but your eyes were fixed on the man in front of you.

Sukuna pretends that the sight of your already glassy eyes doesn’t make his heart skip a little, he’d never really remain unaffected by you no matter how much he tried. But that fleeting moment of softness for you quickly fizzled away at the sight of you and gojo in matching fucking pajamas, I mean really it felt like this happened on purpose as if you and gojo had planned it. He feels his jealousy bubbling up inside of him and he refuses to even acknowledge the white haired man next to you. Sukuna also noted the way you seemed to hide behind gojo, which also pisses him off because why would you’d have to be shielded from him? He has never hurt you and he never would and to see the way you acted so unfamiliar to him had his mind buzzing.

You haven’t torn your eyes away from sukuna, you notice the barely hidden look of franticness in his eyes, you feel his gaze swallowing you whole. It’s a look in his eyes you never thought you’d be on the receiving end of.

“What do you want?” You asked trying to make your voice stable but you know you must have sounded like a mess

“We need to talk” sukuna replied with a calmness that felt too eerie to be comfortable “Alone” he added as he finally looked at gojo

“Not a chance, what do you want-“ gojo started but you interrupted him abruptly “Fine”

You turned to satoru completely “im fine, just make sure everythings good inside” you hoped he’d catch onto the way you were asking him to check on airi, last thing you need is for her to be awake and hearing what you imagine wont be a pleasant conversation judging by sukunas demeanor

Gojo didnt want to question you in front of sukuna so all he did was put his hand on your arm and squeezed it briefly before pointedly staring at sukuna as he disappeared behind the door before coming back with a jacket.

"here its too cold out here" gojo mumbled as he shoved the jacket in your hands, you recognized it as his and you were thankful because it was freezing outside and you cant imagine this conversation was going to be fast. You shrugged the jacket on ignoring sukunas pointed stare, he was so obviously bothered it was annoying to you.

The pink haired mans eyebrow slightly twitched at the interaction that unfolded before him but before he could get any more riled up about it your voice pulled him out of his thoughts “what did you want to talk about?” you asked, stepping out of the house and closing the door behind you

Sukuna felt a small smirk try to fight its way onto his face you were responding in short, terse comments you were trying so hard to remain calm but he knows you, he can hear the wave of insecurity hidden in your voice.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Sukuna spat out

You’re not sure what he thinks he knows. Your mind is telling you hes found out about airi but what if he wasn’t? What if he just thinks you’re dating gojo or something unimportant. You're already overthinking just trying to understand what exactly his intentions are.

“Do you want to elaborate?” You asked calmly

Sukuna felt his eye twitch slightly, he thinks it was probably very obvious. He takes the opportunity to turn around and look at where he parked to make sure yuji is still in the car but also to make you look. He knows if you saw yuji, you’d probably understand why he was here.

You followed Sukunas line of sight as you saw yuji sitting in the front seat of sukunas car, that you only recognize because you saw it the day you dropped yuji off. Yuji looked shocked at the way both you and sukuna stared at him and he quickly fixed his gaze forward instead of the two of you. Yuji knows you could probably see the guilt riddled on his face and he so badly wants to tell you it wasn’t him but by the time he attempts to look at you and sukuna again you’re already back to staring at his brother.

Sukuna turned back to you to find you already glaring at him, as if you have anything to be mad at

“You know what Im talking about don’t play dumb” sukuna began

You just squinted your eyes slightly “I don’t know what you’re talking about I cant read your mind, sukuna” it was your turn to lace your tone with spite

“Whose kid is it? I know you have one, who is the father?” Sukuna said bluntly, speaking so casually as if he hadn’t just shattered whatever front you had

He watched as your face faltered, your eyebrows furrowed, mouth twitching and your body tensed. You looked back at the car and noticed yuji staring again you felt cornered somehow. You had an inkling you felt like you knew why he was here the second you saw his face but you refused to accept it. Even now, as Sukuna so brazenly asked his dreaded question you felt as if it was dream— you’d simply fallen asleep while wrapping the gifts with gojo.

Yet the cold biting at the tip of your nose and the man standing in front of you demanding an answer said otherwise. You couldn’t find your voice and you couldn’t look at his face, you didn’t know how to answer him even if the answer was simple.

“I-“ you began, you feel as if you’d forgotten every word you’d ever learned because your mind was coming up blank. You took the opportunity to look up at him to see his face but he simply looked unamused, it made you feel worse. The look on his face was always something you strived to avoid when you were dating and something you subconsciously were still trying to avoid all these years later. The very idea that his eyes could bear such reproof for you was terrifying, and to see it now made your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

And even more so the way he was still so breathtaking to you, even with his hair messy because he was clearly running his hands through it, even with the blush spreading across his face from the cold, you truly could not wrap your head around the fact that he was real. His tattoos and the ones peaking through the collar of his hoodie had you becoming completely distracted-- if only for a moment.

Sukuna slightly raised his brows in a mocking manner indicating he was waiting for you to continue. It wasn’t encouraging in the slightest

You cleared your throat in hopes that it’d stop the cry building in your throat “I have a daughter” you stated, your voice wavered as you avoided sukunas glare. You stared pointedly at your feet, the tears were building in your eyes before you could stop them obscuring the view of your shoes, you let the tear drops fall as they slid down your cheeks. It was strange to feel your warm tears while the cold air bit at your face let yourself embrace it— It almost felt comforting. You quickly wiped them away as the silence between you and sukuna grew overwhelming.

You lifted your head to meet sukunas eyes “you’re her father” you whispered so quietly had sukuna not been holding his breath he’s sure he wouldn’t have heard you.

There was something cruel in the way your eyes were glistening with tears and your body shook— from the cold or nerves he could not tell. Cruel in the sense that you’re acting as if you hadnt been hiding this. He knew it, felt it, from the second yuji couldn’t answer.

“Did you know” he spoke tone indiscernible

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as you sniffled

“When we broke up did you know” he doesn’t know why he wants to know that, he’s somehow afraid of the answer

You shook your head in response “it didn’t happen then” you mumbled

It clicked then in Sukunas head that it was that god damned one night stand stunt he pulled. His eyes widened slightly and hes glad you were too busy wiping your eyes to see his surprise. Somehow he knew he’d come to regret that night even more than he already did. Even if that night was the last time he felt actually well rested solely because he had you in his arms again, your presence down to feeling you breathe, how your shampoo and lotion smelled, everything about you had overtaken his senses. He missed you, he had missed you so much it made him so frustrated to be so weak for you, and having to leave you that next morning— without so much as a goodbye sent him spiraling for months after, doing the opposite of what he wanted.

He didn’t know where to start or what to ask he didnt even think he wanted to know anymore yet the words start rising to his throat unbidden “why didn’t you tell me?” He spat out

You slightly startled not expecting his harsh tone out of nowhere “Oh please” you laughed it was vacant of any actual amusement “I did, I tried so hard sukuna you have no idea”

He furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to speak buy you cut him off “If you happen to remember you blocked me on literally everything… I tried calling and texting I even used someone else’s phone and yet there was never a response” you started to get a little louder from all the pent up resentment

“And you couldn’t leave a voicemail? Or even texted me this?” Sukuna asked incredulously

You gawked “I DID! I fucking did, i texted you from 3 different numbers that it was me and that I needed to talk to you, I left plenty of voicemails telling you to call me back” you shouted your tone quickly escalating from what it once was and you were shaking from how angry you were “what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t even go find you, I wouldn’t even know where to begin” you spat out, choosing to leave out the fact that he never gave you anything of his past that could’ve served as a hint for you, that wasn’t the point of this and it didnt even matter now anyways, you weren’t together anymore anyways.

Sukuna genuinely could not recall such attempts in the moment but if he stopped to think he'd surely remember (he deleted every voicemail and ignored every text for his sanity unknowing of the urgency behind them) although it probably didn’t help there was about 3 months that he wasn’t sober in any sense. That was the life he tried to convince himself he wanted to live, nothing but things that would bring entertainment to him.

So, youre not entirely wrong, you did try but thanks to time, alcohol, drugs and denial sukuna truly did not recall such events. Ignoring everything you just said he cuts your rant off “what about when you saw me the other night?”

To that you had no answer so he continued “how long did you know yuji was my brother?”

You swallowed looking back at the car to see yuji had put his head against the window but his gaze was faced forward you looked back to sukuna “from the moment I met him” you answered honestly

Sukuna scoffed he took a minute to look up at the house behind you. He didn't really notice how nice it actually was and how one of the windows upstairs had a light on. He looked back down at the door behind you and his stomach turned uncomfortably, he realized behind that door was an entire life you’d built without him. You’d even included yuji in this sickeningly domestic life.

“You knew that whole time that I was back” sukuna spoke, not a question but simply a statement

“I was going to-“ you began

“But you didn’t” he cut you off

He felt disgusted that you were scrambling to create excuses “if I hadnt found out, when would you have told me, if at all?” He questioned accusatorially

“I don’t know” you irritably replied “I don’t know, I was waiting for a right moment-“

“You needed a right moment to tell me about MY kid?” He argued

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes you settle on staring straight into sukunas eyes “I did” you spoke resolutely

Sukuna had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from saying things that could make this much worse not because he cared if he hurt you, if he was being honest he’d lost a lot of respect for you. In his opinion you had no moral high ground here yet you could very easily not allow him to see his kid, although hes not even sure he wanted to meet her. It sounds like an absolutely shitty thing to say but he cant help but feel like he has no emotion about this aside from betrayal on yujis and your behalf.

And yet, “What’s her name?” He asked before he could stop himself

Your eyes widened slightly and you know he saw it “Airi” you spoke with much more certainty, he noticed and there was the smallest spark in your eyes, the same one he recognized when you’d start to talk about something you were passionate about-- he missed it.

“Birthday?”

“Her birthday?” You questioned making sure you understood since he wasn’t really using sentences he only nodded in response. So you continued “March 21st”

You saw the look of realization on his face, that it was right after yujis birthday yet he didn’t say anything.

There was an uncomfortable silence after you told him that, you didn’t really know what to say. There was nothing to say to make this any better and you knew that, as much as sukuna knew that too.

“Why?”

You heard vulnerability laced within the word, something you’d never heard from sukuna. You felt your chest burn as you accepted the fact that you were the cause of it. You knew what he was asking and standing here now, you felt like a fool for your reasoning.

“Y’know I wasn’t mad that you broke up with me” you began your eyes settled on his chest he was wearing a black hoodie with some weird symbol on it and you focused solely on that as you continued “I was at first especially since it was right after my birthday but once that initial rage calmed down I just felt” you trailed off

Sukuna felt annoyed at this monologue you were putting on he didn’t really ask for the reminder of one of his biggest regrets

“I felt hopeless I guess, I thought you were my end all be all. If you asked me to I would’ve stayed with you for as long as you’d let me and yet you couldnt even tell me why you dumped me”

Sukuna rolled his eyes slightly but you didnt see it so he interrupted you “So its some sort of revenge?”

You ignored him “I remember begging you to tell me why” you laughed but it sounded like you were in pain “Do you? How you walked to my room to grab your shit without so much as looking my way”

The memory of that night flooded sukunas brain, you were trailing behind him crying asking him why, what you did wrong, if he was okay. And he remembers ignoring it all. You stood in the door way watching him slowly gather his things as if he was trying to rid you of his presence before you even had the chance to mourn it.

“Years, we were together for YEARS and you left as if I was nothing, If you didnt want to be with me— I couldnt change that” you spat out and you finally moved your gaze from his sweater to his face that wasn’t looking at you but the door behind you “but you could’ve told me why… I deserved that much at least”

Sukuna still didn’t understand what the correlation was but you pressed on “then you come back for one night just to leave me more fucked up than before you came yet again leaving without thinking of what that did to me” you sniffled as you stared daggers into him while he finally moved his line of sight back to your face. Your face-- that beyond the melancholy your eyes held there was a subtle hint of rage.

Your voice raised and you choked up “Selfish. You were selfish, sukuna! And then I found out I was pregnant and after months of my desperate attempts— all my attempts to get you to care I just gave up” you shrugged exaggeratedly “Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?” starting to openly cry you continued “Do you know how much it hurt to try to get you to care not even about me but your kid?” You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and sukuna felt a sinking feeling of guilt not liking the way this conversation was going.

Your voice sounded unfamiliar to you as you struggled to talk through the tears “So fine, I settle with the fact that I’ll tell you eventually, even if I wanted you to know then, even if I wanted you there every step of the way even if I wanted airi to know-“ you shook your head and brought your hands up to your face as your body was shaking with your muffled cries

Sukuna didn’t know what to do or say he held himself back from his urge to wrap his arms around you, it felt too foreign now, he hadn’t realized just how much of a stranger you were to him now. He deluded himself into thinking he’d be able to get you back somehow, that you wouldn’t even think twice of being with him again. Yet as he watched you breakdown in front of him and he heard how you felt about him, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t lose hope.

You calmed down after a few moments, having needed to let the cry out to be able to continue talking. You sniffled and it sounded disgusting as your nose was runny but you continued “I can’t put airi through that” your voice was gentle but hurt “if thats how you treat people you ‘love’ I cant subject her to that, she’s better off not knowing you at all”

Sukuna thinks he feels a crack in his heart form at that last part, the implication behind your words that you probably thought you would’ve been better off not knowing him made his ears ring. He wanted to tell you to stop but he couldn’t find it in himself to speak

“Because if I told you about her, if you came into her life and abandoned her the way you left me, without so much as a reason” you shook your head “I won’t let that happen to my baby” you wiped your nose and waited for sukuna to say something, he’d been oddly quiet and he was avoiding looking directly at you

Sukunas throat felt dry as he let your words sink in surely he’d look back on this and understand your reasoning but to no ones surprise he lets his defensiveness speak for him

“And you decided that for me” he spoke matter of factly but he could clearly hear the hurt in his words, he hoped you hadnt noticed

You wanted to punch him. Thats what he had to say after everything you told him, after the years of built up resentment and sadness, it made you sick. But if he wanted to play that way then fine, he knew you were always one to match his attitude and even if it was petty and immature you didnt care, he clearly didnt.

“I did” you answered back in the same tone

————

Gojo sat on the couch with his head thrown back as he screwed his eyes shut. Had he been as harsh on you as he is with others maybe he would’ve given you better advice. He should’ve told you to tell sukuna, he shouldn’t have coddled your emotions but he couldn’t help it. Sure, he doesn’t think sukuna is a good person he doesn’t deserve to be graced by you or airis presence but he is airis father.

Maybe because he’d been out of the picture for years it was easy to imagine him as merely a sperm donor but after hearing the entire conversation you and sukuna decided to share with the neighborhood, an uncomfortable feeling of guilt settles in gojos gut. He shouldn’t feel bad for sukuna and yet he does… that man probably doesnt even care about airi but granted the reality of the situation sucked. If gojo was in sukunas shoes he’s not even sure he’d be able to even look at you. All things he should’ve thought about before any of this happened, but it was too late now and he was probably going to be left to pick up the pieces. He heard foot steps running down the stairs and didn’t bother looking, he had honestly wondered if megumi noticed what was happening, gojo didn’t really think to alert him. He’d been too concerned with checking on airi and as your conversation got louder he decided to stay close, just in case.

“What is going on?” Megumi harshly whispered

Gojo sighed and kept his eyes closed “he knows… about airi”

Megumi figured as much considering he heard most of the argument but he was still confused “she told him?”

Gojo shook his head “we don’t know how he found out, the fucker just showed up out of nowhere”

Megumis brows furrowed he had at least 10 more questions but he could tell gojo wasn’t in the mood

“Is she okay?” Megumi asked, he clarified he was talking about you as gojo looked him waiting for an elaboration

“Probably not” gojo shrugged

Megumi didn’t really know what to do, he hadn’t received a text from yuji so maybe he doesn’t know that sukuna is here. Or maybe he actually told his brother, megumi didnt want to think yuji would do that so he quickly shut that thought down

“That guys an idiot” gojo mumbled

And all megumi could do was nod in agreement.

————

“And yuji?” He asked angrily

“What about him?” You asked with a mocking tone

Sukuna looked back at his parked the car, of course the brat was trying to listen in because the second sukuna turned around yuji took his head off the window and looked at the steering wheel of the car instead, trying to play it off

“You manipulated him into not telling me, you claim im the bad guy here yet you-“ sukuna was cut off by you too quickly for his liking

“For your information, sukuna, I was expecting him to tell you, in fact when he found out I swore that was it, I freaked out trying to think about how he’d tell you everything” you spoke with gritted teeth “but I guess you just have your head so far up your own ass that he decided not to tell you”

Sukunas eyes widened slightly “I didn’t need to do anything, you did all the work yourself” you huffed out, glaring at him like you’re sick

He didn’t have a response to that, he knows its probably true yuji decided that on his own.

And somehow in this moment he’s a child again. He’s watching as his parents look at him with disgust, as his grandfather tells him to ‘just behave’, and as his classmates run away in fear from him. Sukuna himself does not realize thats what hes experiencing in the moment, he just thinks the look in your eyes pisses him off.

He thinks you’re never going to stop taking from him. You’ve taken all the space in his brain that is allowed, you’ve taken a part of him and created a whole other person out of it. You took his kid from him and now his brother. It’s not supposed to be like this with him practically at your mercy, with him just lucky enough to be granted a glance from you.

How much was it going to take to change this? To set things right, to start over. Had he confused your power for his? All this time he really could’ve convinced himself you were wrapped around his finger, but he was cruelly proven wrong.

You cleared your throat snapping sukuna out of his thoughts, you didnt know what he was thinking or what he was planning but it made you anxious

“Did you want to meet her?” You asked quietly

“No” sukuna answered all to quickly. He needed time, he didn’t know how much but he couldn’t see her like this. Any normal person would think they’d hate to spend one more second not knowing but he thinks if he met her and he was face to face with a life he’s missed with you, well he’d probably lose his mind.

You flinched at his response and you felt your heart shatter, it was exactly what you were afraid of you knew it. You started to nod in acceptance, because at least you knew it was coming, at least airi didn’t have to know this happened

Sukuna realized you couldn’t read his thoughts as he saw you cave in on yourself, you were shaking and nodding the tears away so he spoke up “not right now I mean” he corrected

You looked him like he was full of shit “It wasn’t going to be right now, she’s asleep”

Sukuna bites back a comment on how you wouldn’t have woken her up for this but chose not to

“You should go” you said, tired of his immaturity

He needed to say something, even if he was mad at you, at everything that just happened “Ill call you” he spoke

You laughed in his face “Go home” you spat out

He wasn’t ready for how fast you retreated from him or how loud and hard you slammed the front door in his face after you went inside.

He was left staring at the doormat, it was a shade of blue that somehow looked lonely. He was disgusted by his vulnerable train of thought, this was not something he wanted to indulge in yet the silence you left him with was eating him alive. The thing about you was that you posed a threat to his own personal philosophy. Love was merely a concept people needed to cope, to find a reason for their existence and for him he was convinced he didn’t need someone else to satisfy his needs. Yet everything about you contradicted that, after all these years he was still left feeling as if he needed you. It was abhorrent.

After a few minutes of being unable to move, his feet moved of their own will as he walked back to his car. The way yuji avoided looking at him made him slam the door shut as he got in the drivers seat

“How long did you know” sukuna asked quietly but Yuji couldnt discern any of type of emotion from his words

Yuji held his breath as he prepared to answer “It wasn’t long” he mumbled “maybe 2 weeks”

Sukuna merely scoffed as he inserted the key into the ignition, he didn’t really have anything to say. Sukuna of all people who always knew what to say, who always knew what he wanted, just didn’t have any words.

———

You slammed the door shut and leaned against it, sliding down to sit on the floor with your knees tucked to your chest you put your head in your hands and cried. It was a continuous stream of tears as you sat with your guilt.

Gojo shooed megumi to his room, which megumi was more than happy to take this opportunity to get away. Not that he didnt want to be there for you but he’s not even sure he’d be of any use right now other than just standing awkwardly. Gojo approached you quietly as he sat down next to you on the floor, you had noticed but didn’t acknowledge him. You just sat there for what felt like forever and he allowed the silence between you two to speak for itself until you were ready.

You sighed and pressed the back of your head against the door “he doesn’t want to meet her” you whispered, voice raspy from the tears and the arguing with sukuna

Gojo couldn’t quite catch the end of your conversation with sukuna, all he had heard was mumbles so as you told him this he felt his heart break for you

“He said that?” he asked in disbelief

You nodded “I asked him if he wanted to meet her and he said no almost immediately” you sniffled “he noticed he fucked up cause he added ‘not right now’ quickly after” you shook your head in disbelief as you huffed out a small laugh

“He does need time to process” gojo spoke up “but-“

“I know he does, I never said he didn’t but its like he didn’t even need to think about it” you snapped “I just don’t know what to believe when he speaks”

Gojo cant blame you for feeling hurt by sukunas crass behavior but he can understand him, would he do the same? Probably no but thats not for gojo to say

“Im sorry it happened that way” gojo whispered and when he noticed you weren’t gonna respond he continued “I seriously don’t know how he found out, we didn’t talk about-”

“I know it wasn’t you satoru” you solemnly smiled at him "he is right though”

Gojo raised his brow as he waited for you to elaborate

“If he hadn’t found out” you waved your hand dismissively “in whatever way he did, I don’t know if I would’ve ever said anything” you whispered

You wanted to believe you would’ve told him eventually. That you would’ve swallowed your pride, would’ve stopped being a coward and just tell him— regardless of what came after. But you were comfortable, living with a false sense of security that your actions wouldn’t have consequences.

“You don’t know that” Gojo tried to reassure you, he thinks you would’ve a little late? Sure but your guilt was eating you alive

“Thank you satoru” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder “I don’t think I say it enough” you whispered

Gojo could hear the insecurity laced in your words and he felt bad that you think you need to thank him, as if he’d done all of this for thanks but before he could say anything you slowly stood up

“Im going to sleep, ill see you tomorrow” you mumbled

“I got breakfast, okay?” Gojo spoke and when you looked at him, the look in his eyes made you want to melt into a puddle of shame. He had concern swimming in the depths of his too blue eyes and it hurt, you didn’t want him to look at you like that, you didn’t want pity for something thats your fault

“Whatever airi wants” gojo added and you had to snap yourself out of your self loathing thoughts

Nodding with a small smile “sounds good” you murmured

———

“So thats it?” Yuji asked, the words left his mouth before he had a chance to stop them

Sukuna threw his keys on the kitchen table and started taking off his jacket, intent on ignoring that brat asking ridiculous questions

The drive back had been insufferably silent and yuji hated it, yet he couldnt bring himself to speak. He felt he wasnt in any place to ask sukuna what had happened but at the same time, if he was dragged along to that confrontation— for literally no reason, the least sukuna could do was say something… like a single word.

“Are you going to meet her?” yuji was clearly referring to airi and the sentence made sukunas heart clench slightly

Sukuna rolled his eyes as he walked to the kitchen, he was in desperate need for some painkillers this whole ordeal gave him a headache. He should’ve known involving yuji in any way would have led to this, the kid was always too nosy for his own good and if he didn’t respond the questions would simply keep going.

“Eventually” sukuna grunted out, he was tired and did not feel like explaining himself to his traitor of a brother. He is still not over the idea that yuji was complicit in this, he always knew yuji was stupid but this was a new low.

“Eventually?” Yuji asked, he sounded like that was his first time hearing the word and Sukuna wouldn’t be surprised by that possibility

“So what was the point?” Yuji asked “you dragged me down there with you, you went and harassed them at nearly 1 am-“

“Harassed?” Sukuna repeated with a smile teasing on his face “you really need to learn what words mean before you use the-“

“Do you even care about her or airi? Or do you just want something to control” Yuji sounded disturbed, like he couldnt wrap his head around the idea that his brother wouldn’t fight to see airi. Was sukuna confusing love for control? Yuji doesnt understand why his brother denies so vehemently that he still loves you or why he would make such a big scene out of tonight if he didnt even plan to do anything about it, he just didn’t like not being the one in charge. That had to be it.

“Are you even going to try to be there for airi?” Yuji persisted and his tone was teetering on the edge of yelling

Sukuna felt whatever thin veil of patience he had snap, he wouldnt admit it but yujis words were striking a chord sukuna didn’t want to even go near “If you know whats good for you, you’d stop talking” he spoke with a threatening tone that told yuji to stop but he kept going

Deep down Yuji knew sukuna wouldn’t actually do anything it was all just a front “y’know at least our dad is dead” yuji huffed out “at least he literally physically cant be here-“

Sukuna laughed and it was yujis turn to furrow his brows, he didn’t understand why anything he said would be something to laugh at

“You idiot, Jin isn’t dead thats just what the old gas bag told you, to spare having to explain anything to you” sukuna spat out “Jin itadori is off doing god knows what who knows where, he’d be better off dead”

Yuji for some reason or another didn't feel surprised. HIs grandfather did try to tell him something before he passed he kept insisting he needed to talk to yuji about his parents but maybe in the back yujis mind he already knew. He’d never so much as visited his fathers grave, his grandfather always told him it was too far and as yuji got older that excuse made less and less sense and yet he never questioned it.

But to yuji, what hurt the most in the moment is that sukuna couldn’t see how low he’s stooped, how he was just always going to be stuck as a bitter and miserable man. Even if yuji didn’t know why sukuna hated their parents so much, he couldn’t fathom why sukuna couldn’t just be happy with what he had. Was his relationship with you not enough? Was having an actual child with you not enough? Yuji long since accepted that he’d never be enough for sukuna, for whatever reason sukuna just couldn’t be a normal brother, yuji stopped trying to understand.

In this moment, standing across from his brother— who still has a smirk on his face as if he thought he did something all yuji could feel was pity— not for himself but for his brother. There was no point in trying to get sukuna to understand, it wasn’t as though sukuna couldn't'— he was capable but he just didn’t want to. And at that point it was out of yujis hands, if sukuna had never been there for yuji why was he going to stand here and try to get sukuna to make better decisions.

Yuji laughed but it wasn’t a laugh sukuna had heard before. Sukuna likes to think he knows yujis body lanuage and mannerisms better than anyone else— considering the fact that he’s a decent amount of years older than yuji and yuji never really had many friends, its not like there was anyone else who would know him so well. While he could talk to just about anybody, which pissed sukuna off to no end especially in yujis toddler days when they’d go to a store and yuji would talk up a storm with anyone who had the misfortune of making eye contact, yet sukuna noticed yuji wasn’t a “friends” person. It seemed to be preferred, like yuji wanted the solitude despite knowing he could be well liked by anyone, and thats why sukuna knew he was screwed when yuji entered high school and actually had a group of friends, there was no convincing yuji that the fushiguro kid was satans (gojos) spawn cause when yuji did decide he had friends, he took it very serious.

So whenever yuji did something sukuna hadn’t seen before (it was rare) it always made him irrationally annoyed because he didn’t know what to expect next. As he took one look at yujis face, and he saw pititful look yuji was giving him Sukuna could’ve sworn the vein on his forehead could’ve burst

“Well im sure airi will be thrilled to be able to say the same thing about you” yuji spat out “like father like son, right?”

Yuji began to walk away from sukuna, ignoring the look of complete and utter disbelief sukuna had written on his face. Stopping at the foot of the stairs before heading to his room, throwing a small glance over his shoulder

“You’re proving her right you know?” Yuji mumbled, referring to your worries about sukunas presence in airis life

“Airi is better off without you”