sissy-bianca

[facefullofsadness]

we both have two sides that no one knows

nightlclub birthday party!au

rich girl enemy!aeri x rich girl enemy!reader

prompt - why would you show up to aeri uchinaga's party if you hate her so much? she wonders the same as she sees you, but maybe it'll be more fun than either of you thought

content - smut (heated messy desperate hate sex, quickie, intoxicated sex, kinda exhibitionism, cunnilingus), alcohol consumption, written in the second person, fluff at the end if you squint

wc - 2740

a/n - omggg happy birthday my gigi!!! my loml, my only one, my pookie, my one true lover, my baddie from japan, my emo hot girl, my aeri uchinaga!!! god I love this woman and I wish her all the love and support and everything in between and beyond on this lovely october 30th <333 (it's the 31st...) (kinda rushed and bad but you'll let it go right? SHHH DON'T BOO ME AT LEAST IM BACK-)

you fucking hated aeri uchinaga's guts.

oh my god, this girl is the embodiment of nuisance, a rich bitch with daddy's money that stomps on people because of their status. she's such a brat and you absolutely loathe her, but so does she. she views you in the exact same way, just an asshole with her parents' money who doesn't give a fuck about anyone or anything. ironic isn't it? hating the carbon copy of yourself? maybe you both did hate yourselves, making it easy to hate one another. not that either of you would admit that, it must be because your parents' and hers' are rivals, which meant that applied to you both as well.

so you're both left to ponder why you decided to show up to her birthday party tonight, meeting eyes with aeri across the dimly lit and loud nightclub full of people. you both scoff almost at the same time at the sight of one another, the birthday girl rolling her eyes as soon as she sees you and you grimace in response. the faint smirk tugs at her lips the more she realizes that you're here. y/n l/n arriving at aeri uchinaga's birthday party? the two girls loathe one another, so why is this happening?

yunjin was at fault, saying you needed to get your mind off of things and party tonight. you interrogated her and scowled at the girl, wondering if she had any ulterior motive. you didn't realize the party tonight she'd be forcing you to go to was your nemesis' birthday celebration, cursing loudly at the dark-haired girl giggling at you. she didn't give a fuck, she responded with a nonchalant shrug and blew a kiss towards you as she pulled up to the valet.

you storm off towards the bar as the crowd all watches the iron gaze the pink-haired girl has on you. you down a few shots enough to feel your head buzz before you scoff to yourself. just because this is aeri's party doesn't mean you have to go down without a fight. after all, you are still better than her, she's nothing more than an annoying attention seeker. you can handle a little fire if that's what she decides to ignite.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing at my party?" the venom-laced voice snarks from behind you.

you down another drink, wiping your mouth before looking at her with an expression that annoys aeri to her core, "having fun, of course. why, do I bother you?"

she bites her lip and crosses her arms, the faux fur coat rustling on her shoulders as her chest pushes up against your face, "no, I couldn't give less of a fuck if you were here or not. I just think it's amusing that you were audacious enough to come. parents' money not enough to entertain you?"

"you say as if daddy didn't arrange a birthday party for you at the most popular club in the city," you snark back, leaning against the counter and getting up in her space, "clearly I'm not the one that needs entertaining."

she huffs in your face and twirls her pink locks in her fingers, "hm, consider me entertained then. you showed up to my party, how cute, no?"

aeri struts away but not before flashing a cocky smirk, flinging her sakura colored hair towards you. you trail her heatedly, "oh please, you've been bored all night till I showed up."

"heh, you're right," she admits, calling over her bare shoulder to you, "you've made things a lot more interesting."

the sea of people part before you two as you both traverse through the crowd, "now since you're here, why don't you play my games? it's only right to participate since you're my guest."

she turns and pushes you back against the couch you find yourself now sitting in a secluded room filled with her posse of spoiled brats all lined up in a circle resting against the large, round couch lining the private room. her friends snicker as soon as they realize it's you, some of their faces familiar, some of them new. you scowl as soon as you spot yunjin with her arm draped over some girl, realizing it's aeri's friend minjeong. she mimics a yawning gesture and waves her fingers at you in acknowledgement.

aeri places her hands on her hips and sighs, "let's play a classic, shall we?" she smirks as she picks up an empty soju bottle from the table, playing with it before placing it in the center and eyeing you.

you scoff, "spin the bottle? really? how old are you?" the room boos in response to your comment.

"why? scared? nervous y/n?" aeri mocks, her eyebrow cocked as her tongue trails across her lip curiously.

you feel a smirk tug at your lip, "no, not nearly as much as you are uchinaga."

you call her bluff as a pink the same shade of her hair spreads to her cheeks. whether it was the alcohol or embarrassment, it was too late, you already saw through her.

she clears her throat and acts as if her cheeks don't continue to heat up, lowering her large shades over her face and resting them on the tip of her nose, "oh whatever, we'll save the main event for last. jimin?"

she turns to the long haired girl on her side, letting her spin the bottle first. the tall girl reaches forward and spins it, the dim burgundy lighting bouncing off of the glass as it swiftly turns. the empty bottle slows and its tip points towards the other cute girl in the room sporting a bob. you recognize kim chaewon as she stands and licks her lips, jimin chuckling and reaching out towards her, dragging her by the hand to the small closet-like room next door. the room is filled with amused noises as you see yunjin and minjeong's expressions turn (which was the most amusing thing you saw).

you turn away from the love quarrel to face aeri's piercing stare, adjusting the glasses away from her face again and fixing her hair, her eyes staying on you. you accept her challenge, leaning back against the couch and tilting your head to the side, looking right at her with the same intensity. you watch as her finger traces her bottom lip, tugging at it with her nail and her eyes gradually trailing down your body, feasting on you.

you gulp at her stare filled with hunger, playing with the hem of your dark skintight dress between your fingers, rolling it up your crossed legs, letting more of your skin expose itself to her. your stick your tongue between your teeth as you pour yourself a shot and down it, the alcohol leaving a wet sheen on your lips that glimmered in the darkness. she observes your every movement, her eyes never leaving you for a moment.

you lick the alcohol off your lips slowly, your eyes taking the opportunity to wander her tempting figure, tracing every curve accentuated by her dress, your body heating up as you take in every inch of skin exposed to your sight. as your gaze trails her chest and prominent cleavage, falling around her plush thighs, she commands your attention back towards her as she taps on her knee and lifts her finger up.

a waiter stands next to you with drinks on his tray which you take and down, staring into aeri's eyes as she does the same. you feel the alcohol burn down your throat, rolling down until it sloshes with the concoction in your stomach. the buzz heats up your cheeks as jimin and chaewon return to the room, hair disheveled and lipstick smeared, no shame in their appearances.

the room's volume increases in cheers and noise as the smirks on the girls' faces fail to die down. chaewon, as the girl who was picked, has to pick the next person to spin the bottle. she picks up the empty glass, plays with it in her small hands and surveys the room with familiar faces and strangers. her eyes scan before landing on you, grin pulling at her cute face.

she trudges towards you and drops the bottle in your lap with a wink. she drags her feet away as the people cheer your turn, adjusting yourself and standing, dipping over the table in front of aeri, cleavage on full display for the girl gawking at you all night. you lean down and spin it, eyes locked onto the pink haired girl. the anticipation for the other end is high as everyone stares expectantly, the glass' hollow noises echoing through the ears of the players in the room, you and aeri never looking away from one another.

gasps fill the room as the bottle slows and comes to a stop, the tip aiming towards your one and only rival who's eyes are still trained on you. neither of you need to look down to know what happened, the uproar from the crowd of people surrounding you enough to understand. aeri stands and finally turns away, swaying towards the secluded room, and you follow immediately, the room an absolute mess of noise.

you follow aeri into the dark, small, closet-like room, the door shutting behind you both as you feel the pumping from the blasting music of the club behind the other side, the light leaking through enough to illuminate the older girl's features and figure. your bodies are close to each other, the heat emanating from one another as you can hear each other's breathing pick up.

"so much for main event for last huh-" you start to tease her.

"jesus, I wish you'd shut the fuck up already," she interrupts annoyedly before grabbing the back of your neck and smashing her lips against yours', pushing her body against yours' and pinning you to the wall behind you.

immediately, your body responds to her burning touch, kissing her back with the same ferocity, arms clinging around her and gripping her body. your hands drag over her curves, clutching at her dress to grab her flesh under it, digging your nails into her. she hisses into your mouth, breathing heavily against you as her soft lips bruise your needy ones.

you throw off her coat as she pulls your her mouth away to suck on your neck and chest, aeri's hot tongue trailing your exposed skin, her desperate lips leaving wet kisses as you thread your fingers through her luscious locks and pant against her. her strong arms have you pinned against the wall, clinging onto her body as she greedily ravishes your burning skin, causing you to moan out into the small but silent room, your noises filling only her ears to hear.

you feel the cocky girl smile against your skin as she continues to digs her face into you neck, sucking your skin and sinking her teeth into you, making you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. you grab her biceps and pull her into you, forcing you to flip her against the wall as your eyes fall to her wet red lips, face flushed and eyes filled with pure lust, the desire to indulge in you building in her body. the sight ignites your primal need for the same thing.

you shove your tongue into her mouth and taste her, the combination of various alcohol and sweet lipstick filling your senses, becoming addicted to the taste of aeri uchinaga. your hands grip her thighs as you dig your fingers into her skin, trailing your hands up and under her dress, pushing the material up to her hips. her breath hitches in her throat as your fingertips trace her slit through the lingerie she wears.

you pull away from the heated kiss as a string of saliva connects the two of you, attaching your mouth to her neck. her chest rises and falls as you greedily lick her skin, the spit rolling down through her cleavage. you descend to your knees and leave wet kisses along her thick thighs, hands holding each one, gripping her as they wander around to her ass, sliding under the dress and pulling her panties down.

a sticky string of pleasure stretches as you drag her clothing down her thighs, her legs spreading in anticipation for your next movement. as badly as you want to tease her for being so ruined for you, you need her just as bad, looking up at her and staring into her desperate eyes, wild and dark with desire. continuing to gaze into aeri's needy eyes, you bring your mouth forward and swipe your tongue along her slit, sticking it in her hole and trailing it tortuously against her clit, her delicious wetness coating your tastebuds.

you watch as her eyes roll back and her body slumps against the wall, her head thrown backwards and a pleasured groan escapes her throat, her hand resting atop your head and lacing her fingers through your already messy hair. you lick once again, swirling the tip of your tongue around her pink and hot bud, making her thighs tremble on either side of your head, holding her legs apart and hooking your arms around them.

her hips buck into your mouth as you wrap your lips around her clit and suck, flicking your hot tongue across her pulsing nerves. profanities flow pathetically from your rival's mouth as you continue indulging in her, fluttering your eyes shut as you makeout with her clit. the grip on your hair tightens as her hand digs deeper through your locks, your hands caressing up and down her long legs. she grinds her hips into your mouth as your tongue slips into her leaking cunt, nose brushing her clit now, flicking your wet muscle against her aching walls.

the sound of her desperate and loud moaning resonates within the small room, her whimpers fill your ears and will you to keep going, the intent of stopping failing to comprehend in your intoxicated head, focused on eating the girl shaking in your hold out. you bury your face deep into her pussy, her cunt walls wrapping and sucking your tongue in, rolling the muscle into her and flicking it against the delicious most pleasurable spots inside, rubbing your nose against her throbbing clit. you bring your hand around to use your fingers and roll the pulsing bud in your fingertips, aeri whimpering above you, gathering her pleasure and your saliva to lubricate the aching clit.

you hum against her cunt, the sound reverberating through her body as her moaning becomes pleasurably loud, jutting her hips into your mouth full of her wetness. you moan into her pussy, the vibration throwing her over the edge, screaming your name out as she cums into your expectant mouth. you feel a rush of her juice flow into your mouth, the taste covering your tongue as you drink down every single drop. your tongue licks her cunt up, cleaning every inch of her pussy to devour her slick fully. you leave kisses along her shaking thighs, holding her up and letting her body relax against the wall behind her.

your core pounds against your dress as you stand shakily, your hands resting under her ass to support her. you kiss your way up her body, on top of her dress, not caring if she can't feel your warm lips, just wanting to make sure she knows you're here and can feel and hear you right in front of her. you observe her flushed face, eyes closed, head resting against the wall, pink hair disheveled beautifully, her chest rising and falling, a glistening sheen of perspiration on her skin across her neck, a goddess you call your rival at your mercy in your hands.

you trail your lips across her sweaty skin, kissing her shoulder and inching towards her neck.

"happy birthday, princess," you whisper in her ear as she giggles cutely, turning your face and pressing her forehead to yours.

"let's get out of here," aeri pants against your cum covered lips.

you kiss her in response, "okay, you still owe me an orgasm."

she bites your bottom lip, "it's my birthday."

"wouldn't it be a good present?" you challenge.

she huffs and agrees, "every part of y/n l/n in my hands would be my perfect present."

a/n: this was supposed to be more intricate and better structured but erm well! this is what you get! also this was originally a short but this is too long for a short and kinda long for a regular fic so... idk wtv!

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Heavy, heavy fucking angst, jealousy, cunnilingus, fingering, blow jobs, rough sex, dirty talk, name calling (slut/bitch etc) toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic, reader is toxic. OOC. TOXIC britney spears level lol. Split POV-

♔ Word count: this chap: 12k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you - Don't read this if you want a nice Gojo lol.

Comments and Reblogs appreciated <3

Part Eight - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Nine- Let it all Burn

Your POV

“You’re so foolish to trust him, we can do this without the Duke’s cooperation.” Nanami says, cupping your face tightly, and you sigh, shutting your eyes.

“I believe him-”

“How can you! Have you forgotten all the things he’s done to you?” Nanami demands, his voice so much harsher than you’ve heard it, making you back away a step, taking a breath.

“No, I have not, that’s why I’m leaving him, Ken. I don’t expect you to wait around all month, I already know that would be stupid and selfish. You do not have to stay with me-”

“I did not say I would leave you.” He whispers, but you see his brows draw together, you see the pain on his face, and you hate yourself more and more with every breath you take.

“Do not close yourself off, even after this annulment if I am to be alone, I will be fine, I will surely miss you sweet Kento, but I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy with you in my arms.”

“You’re miserable with me, you just won’t admit it, it drives you crazy and it hurts you. And that hurts me.” Your voice is hoarse now, as he shakes his head, denying his own truth. “You are hurting, be honest.”

“Because you’re trusting him, because I will not see you for a month? How can I be happy with that, when I want you to be mine, not his.” Kento’s voice grows more intense, as he’s looking down at you, taking your chin in his hands and running a thumb down your lip. “No I don’t want to share you, but at least I know you’re here, but now you’ll be with him only.”

He’s overwhelming you so much you feel your chest tighten, trying to focus on the right thing to say. “Things are moving so fast with us, I worry you’re not thinking rationally. You do not even know me that well to marry me so suddenly, I fear it’s your kindness, it’s your caring, your heart. Wanting to save me, care for me.”

He laughs then, but it’s a dark laugh, as he runs his hands down your body, pressing his fingers into your waist, against your ribcage. “No I do not think rationally with you, I’ve thought rationally my entire existence in my work, in my life, but with you I lose that completely, when I’m kissing you, when I’m inside you.” He’s pressing his body on yours, bending low as he murmurs. “There’s no rationale to how good you feel.”

You’re flushed, and overwhelmed, as you realize Kento has fallen so deeply, and you’re not sure you’re in that same way. You have love for Kento, you clearly have attraction, and it’s so easy to just be with him. You are happy, you enjoy him, but it’s not an all consuming need, and you don’t know what love truly is yet. You have never been taught such things.

Your mother told you nothing of sex, of marriage, and you had not even laid with your own husband, choosing Kento, and now your rash moment seems to just be hurting everyone. And why was Duke Gojo constantly on your mind, was it some trauma response as Kento theorizes, or is it so much more?

Is it the fact that his kisses destroy you?

Is it the fact that every day you feel worse for continuing with Nanami this way, but you do not know how to express it? And what future is there for you with him, surely your parents would disown you, society would disown you. And you do not mind such things for love, but you are unsure of everything, you wish so badly you could put proper thoughts together.

But how can you when you have Gojo acting…

Fuck, nice?

Was it some act, was it some game? And in the end, you need Gojo to end the marriage, you truly would have a horrible time without him, that’s where Nanami was a little wrong. You thought you were so sure of everything, but Nanami’s possessiveness and how deeply he feels brings a sinking feeling to your tummy, for fear of disappointing him, hurting him again.

It’s what you do, you hurt people, hurt them like you’re hurting, trying to find comfort in Nanami.

“I am not sure if I can return your love confession, that’s not fair to you-”

“You’re young, inexperienced, and this is new. I’m a very serious man, and I know what I want… and I take it.” He says softly, you sigh, biting your lower lip. “And I want you, I want to take care of you.”

“You do not owe me so much kindness.” You stroke his cheek with your gloved hand gently, and watch his lips set in a terse line.

“You have given me your body, your innocence, do you think these things mean nothing to me, like your… Duke thinks of them?” You blink a bit, hating the pain in his voice, but understanding it.

“I know they mean something, it was why I chose you to be my first.”

Kento sighs, pulling you against his hard body then, hazel eyes narrowing, thin nostrils flaring, you can tell he’s furious at the thought. “Please, don’t trust him, don’t leave me for a month to fall victim to such manipulation.”

“I don’t want to leave you! But I do want to help the villagers, and Satoru can help me with my parents even, that’s something we really need. You’re acting as if I will not face so many challenges-”

“Satoru, you call him Satoru?” He demands then, ignoring what you’re saying, and you sigh, shutting your tired eyes, feeling pulled every which way until you may break.

“Not to his face, never, I suppose I’m just sleepy.”

“Sleepy, why, were you just up all night with him?” It’s your turn to glare at him now, and Nanami rubs his eyes, exhaling and lowering his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry darling, I-”

“You said you forgave me, but you keep accusing me of doing more. I clearly broke your trust, and I don’t think that I can repair that.”

“No, no. I’m sorry.” His voice breaks, as he’s holding your hands and kissing them, sighing.

“I’ve given you every opportunity to run from me, to go be happy, you’re so handsome, so sweet, there is no way you wouldn’t find a lovely woman, with much less baggage. Please do not make me feel even worse than I do, I promise I hate myself enough.” You choke on the words.

Kento looks at you, stepping closer, brushing his hand down your cheek. “I do not regret meeting you, or doing this, but it’s killing me enough already. Now I must think of him near you and I don’t even get to see your pretty face?” His husky voice breaks your heart into pieces.

“Kento…” You’re crying now, and he’s swiping your tears, leaning down to kiss you, and you press your lips back, but when he has his hands gripping your hips, and then he eagerly starts to unlace your bodice, his tongue swiping in your mouth, you pause him, pushing him gently away. “We cannot, I gave him my word.”

His brows lower. “Your word? What about your word to me?” He says, and you lace up your bodice, blushing furiously.

“My word was to be honest, and I have been, I have told you what I did, and you are clearly still hurt. Perhaps-”

“Yes I’m hurt. But I still need you, it’s beyond wanting, I crave you, I’m falling so deeply, and now I’m terrified to lose you, because your Duke will manipulate you.”

“Ken…”

“You’re too innocent, you do not know what he could do.”

“I’m not so innocent anymore. I know you care… but I have an obligation here, and I think I owe it to try, if he is going to. It’s to end our marriage, and have all my dowry, which could go to my children some day. It’s a win win.”

“Not for me.” He says, and you feel your tummy lurch, as his words devastate you so much.

“No… not for you. Kento, here…” You’re taking off your necklace with shaky hands, as tears are burning your eyes, and Kento glares.

He stops your hands. “Do not take it off, it’s yours.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“You do, I just… I’m just upset. I hate him for what he did to you, and you’re so kind you’ll forgive him.” You lean back against the wall now, bones aching and exhausted, as you see the hurt you’ve caused by being so selfish, by wanting to be so happy with Kento, at his expense, falling deeper in self loathing.

“Perhaps you will find someone more worthy-”

“I want you.” He says again, softer, tilting up your chin. “I’ve wanted you since that night, when you ran off and disappeared. I won’t stop wanting you.”

“Kento…” He’s leaned down and kissing you again, tasting your salty tears, and he’s gripping you so tightly, holding you against him, but the kiss makes you sadder and sadder, his arms like a trap you wish to escape, and you hate yourself for feeling that way about him. “I am sorry that I hurt you, I never, ever wanted to.”

“I cannot bear it if you do this.” You’re a sobbing mess now, as his words hurt your heart, like he’s piercing a blade right between your breasts. “Kiss me, please, let me feel your perfect lips.”

You press yours against his again, as he holds you close, in his warm, cozy apartments, and you wonder if this is the last time you’ll see him. You wonder if he’ll find someone so beautiful and sweet and open like he deserves, and by the end of the month, you’d be all alone, on your own. No cruel… confusing… Duke Gojo, no sweet, perfect Nanami.

Perhaps just you and your thoughts.

Maybe that was for the best, so you would not hurt him anymore, and you could wallow in your own self doubts, free of Duke Gojo. You did want to be free of him, even if perhaps you all could get along somewhat at the end of this, Gojo could never love you, fuck he hates you, and you reciprocate it. Hate and toxic attraction was not love and could never be.

Nanami is kissing down your throat to your breasts, where they’re rising and falling with every breath, tongue hot and wet against your skin, his other hand slipping your skirts up. “Will you not even let me pleasure you?”

“I promised. I’m sorry but I cannot have him keep his half of the bargain if I am not going to.” You say softly, as his hands pause, and his hazel eyes are narrowed.

“Why keep your word of not sleeping with me, when did he care for your feelings?” Nanami whispers then, and you frown.

“He has been with no one for over a week. I do believe he’s serious about this, about righting wrongs.” 

“It’s as if you’re giving him more care than me.” He whispers, and you can’t take it then, as you feel the pain setting in, the self loathing. “You had no problem letting him lick you, despite my feelings, yet you cut yourself off of me now for him. What am I to think?”

“Kento, I think perhaps we should… cool down on this.”

He glares now, jaw setting. “Cool down?”

“Yes it’s too much, too soon. It’s all so foolish! How can we have this happy life you wish when you don’t truly know me? When you cannot trust anything I say.” Your voice is breaking, and you see the hurt written on his face.

“There’s time to get to know these things, for now I just know I’m hopelessly in love with you. All of you.”

“You’ll be disappointed the more you learn.” Nanami’s normally warm and cozy apartments feel like they’re closing in, like they’re so tiny. “You’re a perfect man, Nanami Kento, I fear I am far from perfection.”

“You’re perfect to me. You taste and look like perfection, don’t you know?” He’s touching you again, until he’s on his knees, pulling you against him, looking up at you, and your heart breaks. “Do not leave so soon.”

“Kento, get up don’t…” You’re pulling him up gently, and he has tears in his eyes now.

“I’m asking you not to do this. Will you please not go?” He whispers, cupping your face, and you wish you could give him the answer he needs, but you know you need to do this. Everything is screaming it, even if you wish it would scream for you to stay with sweet Nanami.

“I must do this. I’m so sorry.” You say softly, and he chokes on a cry, just as you do, hating yourself so much you can’t stand it.

Why did you run to him?

Why did you put so much on him!?

And now you hurt him more.

But this is the right decision, your gut, heart, and soul is telling you, to try to help the Duke’s villages, to try to at least become cordial with him by the end of this. But hurting Nanami in the process was never your intention, clearly he would be far better off without you, and you don’t even know if you can keep on, with how far his feelings have gotten so quickly.

You ache to return them fully, you ache to love Nanami, fuck you do adore him, but this all consuming need he has, how he burns for you, you do not. Every time you try to tell him, he gives you an excuse, a reason, and does not let you finish your words, the ones constantly stuck in your throat.

“You’re making a stupid, foolish decision. Truly you are. I don’t know how much I can save you from yourself, Duchess.” He says then, and your eyes shut, your gloves are sticky with your tears as you wipe them off your cheeks. “You’re young and naive, you have no clue what you’re doing.”

“I may be young and naive, but I know I need to do this.”

“So then you’ll choose him?”

“I’m not choosing anyone, Kento did you not hear!? It’s to help me annul the marriage! To mitigate the insane consequences-”

“And spending that time with him, you’ll have no annulment, surely you’ll end up right in his bed.” You gasp now, and he curses, shaking his head.

“You’ve accused me of being a whore a few times now, granted you may be right, but you should have said so that day I told you. Rather than us…”

“Do you regret it?” He asks softly, and you shut your eyes, struggling as you feel nausea rolling in waves in your tummy.

Do you regret it?

Should you have left him that day, instead of letting this go further, letting his feelings get deeper?

“I do not regret the action, or choosing you, but I do regret not knowing how deep your feelings were, and hurting you by not sharing them fully back. I regret ever, ever hurting you. I regret ever talking to you that day-”

“Don’t say that!”

“Why, it’s how you got involved. I’d rather have wallowed in my self pity, perhaps just-”

“I don’t regret it, anything about you. How could I, when you’re the best I have ever had? The most beautiful?” You’re so drained, now, you cannot focus on his words, it’s as if there’s a throbbing in your entire body, as your throat gets tighter and tighter, and you’re rubbing it now.

“I should not have slept in your bed. Not while I was with him.”

Nanami scoffs at that. “He’s slept with half of London, you blame yourself!?”

“Yes, because now I’m no better. Nanami… here.” You’re taking off his necklace again, and he’s shaking his head, handing it back.

“Stop that, please. I’m still in-”

“We will talk later on, with cooler heads. For now, you keep this, for someone far better might require it.” You choke up as you speak, as you hand him the necklace gently, and he curses, pulling you to him, kissing you again. Something feels so desperate about it, like how Satoru kisses you.

Satoru, always on your fucking mind.

It’s not right to have him on your mind with Nanami, you’re not giving him your everything, and he’s giving you his absolute heart and soul. “Don’t do it. I cannot wait for you.”

“I do not want you to wait. I understand.”

“So you’ll break me?” He whispers, and you look away, eyes burning from your tears. “Break my heart, walking out this door, when you know you should be with me, you know how I’ll give you everything.”

“I don’t deserve your everything.” You break away then, and he’s behind you, pressing you against the door, hugging you tightly, burying his face against your neck. “Nanami, please let me go, please forget me.”

“How can I forget you, when my every waking moment is spent thinking of you, wishing you were in my arms, in my home? Knowing you’re with him, knowing he’s horrible to you. Knowing you’re not apt enough to… you don’t know enough to handle him.”

You blink a bit then, tensing in his hold. “Are you saying I’m not smart enough?”

“No just not… just stay, please? Or you will end me here completely.”

“I don’t want to end you! I never wanted to do this to you. You will not understand my decision, you may hate me for it, that’s fine. It’s what I’m owed for hurting such a beautiful person. A beautiful soul. So Ken, if I never see you again, if you find someone so much better, just know I will always care for you, and always be thankful. But this is best for you. You know it is.”

“You’re so foolish, Duchess.” He says with a sigh, finally backing up, allowing you a moment to breathe then, and you laugh without humor.

“Perhaps I am. I appreciate everything you have done, and respect any decision you make. Should I run into you again, I hope to see you smile.” He brushes a tear from your cheek then, turning your face towards him, pressing a kiss on each cheek.

“I see. Then I only hope you do not end up burned by your decision. I can no longer save you from it.” He says then, and the finality of it along with his tears devastated you.

You’re ruining something so good, but you must let him go.

Perhaps forever? You do not know.

Just yesterday you’d bought into the dream, of being happy, but you can’t take away Nanami’s happiness in the process. Surely he hurts now, but letting him go will allow him to find a true love, a woman that worships him just like he does, one that will love him so very much, as he deserves. Nanami Kento deserves everything.

“I wish you every happiness in this world. I hope I will become a distant thought soon.”

“You know it’s not possible to forget you. Good bye, Duchess.”

“Farewell, Nanami Kento.” You say then, and he opens the door, allowing you out, and you greedily suck in air as you do, on a foggy London morning. You feel your collarbone, the bare neck now, how quickly everything has changed.

You’re riding in the carriage later, replaying the conversation in your head. Nanami's words were not kind, but they were accurate. You are young, naive and foolish, and now you’ve likely lost him forever. All because you think that you should let him be happy, but he cannot see that now.

You want Nanami’s happiness, but you do not deserve it.

You did not deserve Gojo’s cruelty either.

But something about helping him, or understanding him…

You sigh as you shut your eyes, heading towards a man who ‘hates’ you, leaving a man that’s falling in ‘love’ with you.

Are you making a horrible decision?

Satoru’s POV

You walk inside the manor now, your cheeks puffy from crying, and your neck… it’s bare. The little gold necklace is completely gone, as you step inside, quietly walking up to where he is sitting at the dining room table, and he stands then, nervously assessing your face. He aches to touch you, but he’s so afraid, is he going to scare you, is he going to irritate you?

He used to care naught for such things, but now he longs to hold you in his arms, but what comfort would you find there? When he is the source of your pain, including what must have happened when you told your lover of his plan. Of course Satoru wants a chance before you’re gone forever, he does not deserve that chance, no, but he aches in his heart and soul for one.

“Is everything… Did something happen?” He asks, and you sit next to him then, not across like usual, surprising him.

“You’re asking me if I’m okay? Are you ill or something?” He snorts then, rolling his blue eyes, pouring you the nasty coffee you enjoy and handing you a cup. “And you’re giving me coffee? Are you seriously ill?”

“Can I try to fucking be nice?”

“Can you?”

“Insolent girl.” He sighs then, sipping his tea and watching you, your hands are shaking as you try to hold the cup, gloves soaked with what he presumes are tears. “Allow me?”

You pause then, your beautiful face looking up at him, lips parted, as he gently tugs on your gloves, revealing your delicate little hands. You say nothing as he holds them for a moment, as he sees that ring on your finger, he’s unsure why you wear it, when your marriage has been nothing for you. Five pretty little pearls on a gold band adorning your finger.

He wants to kiss your hand, how stupid, how foolish he is. What effects do you have on his psyche, on his heart, as he inhales your sweet scent, the scent that makes him ache with longing. You’re just letting him hold your hand then, as he watches emotions form once more in your glistening eyes.

“Thank you.” You say softly, taking the cup with a shaky breath.

“Why do you drink such a nasty beverage?” He asks then, and you blink just a bit, looking up at him.

“Do you actually wish to know?”

“That's why I asked.”

You sigh, setting the cup down, spinning the little rose gold spoon inside of it, before looking back at you. “I have asthma.”

Satoru is surprised then, eyes widening just a bit. “Asthma? Your parents never…”

“Yes, they did not want their daughter to be ‘not good stock’ as they said. What if I pass it to the baby and this and that. As if it’s so horrible, as if I’m less than for not being able to breathe.” Satoru remembers then.

‘Just breathe’

And the look on your face, incredulous, as you’d been clinging to your throat, then the pieces fall together, you’re always rubbing it, you have coughing fits he notices at night, always sipping coffee. And he, like a goddamn fool, has upset you over and over, probably making it worse.

“More reasons not to desire me I suppose.” You mumble, sipping your drink once more, and Satoru scoffs.

“What of it, you seem to have it under control, it’s not a flaw, it’s just… well, just who you are.”

You look at him in shock now, lips parted, and then you close them, clearing your throat, your lashes lowering over your eyes, casting shadows on your pretty face. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s nothing. So, what happened with your lover?”

You sigh, looking away, shutting your eyes, your breath catching just a bit, chest rising and falling. “I hurt him.”

“Hurt him?”

“Yes, by agreeing to this, but also… I had to let him go.” Satoru’s heart pounds then, for just yesterday he was so sure there was nothing he could ever do to have a chance. Not that he has one now, but some form of small hope blossoms in his chest, something he has never truly felt aside from that night in the carriage.

“You ended things?” He asks carefully, trying not to show how much hope was in his voice.

“It was necessary, I hurt him by my decisions. He has no trust in me. I’ve only served to disappoint.”

“Disappoint? He got so much of you, how did you disappoint?”

“I shouldn’t have even done it. It was rash and foolish. Now he’s completely heart broken, and all by my hand. I did not deserve him.” You cover your face now, your little sobs wrenching his heart. “I deserve nothing but misery.”

“What? Stop that. I…” Satoru’s tentatively reaching out for your back now, and you tense when he does, as he rubs your back up and down gently. “Is this… would you like me to stop?”

“No, do not stop.” You exhale, shaky as he pulls your chair closer, still rubbing your back. “Are you comforting me?”

“I’m sure I’m quite shit at it.” You giggle then, even through your tears, snorting with laughter as he pats your back now. “I’m so shit at it you laughed though.”

“Indeed, I did. Gojo, I would love to believe this, believe you can be kind, but I don’t know if I can. And I let such a good thing go, trusting you to keep our agreement, will you?”

“I will, if you want to end things, end things, however I can with our families. I will not make you stay.” Fuck he wishes he could, but he cares enough to stop keeping you in misery. You put a tentative hand on his thigh then, your touch burns through his trousers, it kills him how good it feels, but he stays still, watching you.

“I am trusting you, foolish as it may be.”

“I’m sorry you are… well, hurt. I can’t say I’m sorry he’s not fucking you.” You roll your eyes then, shaking your head.

“At least you’re honest.”

“I thought you loved sex so much?”

You worry your lower lip with your teeth now. “I suppose I embellished to hurt you more. I don’t know if I’m any better than you at this point.”

Satoru hates that he’s relieved. “You’re much better than I am.” He says quietly, as you fiddle with some stitching on his pants, his family crest, your fingers running around it, and fuck if it doesn’t make him hard, just that touch. God everything about you turns him on, just last night after leaving your room he’d had to make himself cum thinking about you.

What he’d said.

How you’d reacted.

“I told you about my asthma, tell me something. If we are to know each other somewhat.”

Satoru freezes then. “I will tell you something important if you can help me today. For now, I have something simple to share. I love horses.”

You smile then, so brightly, it stops his heart. “I also love horses. Do you enjoy riding them?”

“I do, it’s very calming, and freeing. There will be some for sale we may look upon while we’re there if you wish for one.”

“Oh, but I won’t even be here… long enough for…”

Stop those words, they kill him.

He already knows you’re almost gone.

“Well, you can take it with you if you choose, a gift from me. I notice your gift from your lover is…”

“Yes, I gave it back. He should bestow it upon someone worthy. This does not mean suddenly I’m yours, of course.”

“I know that.” He says softly. You nod a bit, standing and straightening your skirts, tilting your head a bit to look at him for a moment.

“I will freshen up and we can head to town?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

You smile again, so sweet and just a hint of one, but the way it makes you even more beautiful kills him. You head up the winding staircase then, and Satoru tries to control his breathing, tries to focus. He wants to make today and the rest of his time good for you, it’s the bare minimum he could do before you disappear, leaving a void he never knew was there.

He would need to tell you, explain, even if it makes no sense, even if it does not help him, purely because you deserved to know, at least some of what happened to make him treat you this way. Never an excuse…

Could he find the courage?

You two walk through the poor village, your hand rests delicately in his inner elbow, you look so pretty in your day dress, but when don’t you look pretty? Satoru wants to act as if this is real, that it’s no agreement, that it’s something true. Your face is scrunched up in worry as you look upon the acres of farmland and the conditions those are living in.

“Gojo… this is so… we must help them.” You look at him, your hand gently squeezing his arm, and Duke Gojo nods.

“Yes, I want to help them, it will be much more than a month of course, but I appreciate you helping at all.” You sigh now, as you all approach the main farmer that supplies the Gojo Manor with food and grains.

“Your Grace!” The farmer and his wife bow and curtsey, then look at you and do the same. “Your Grace!”

“No need to be so formal.” You say, and Satoru watches your soft smile as you walk up to them, they seem instantly enamored by you.

“We are here to discuss some better conditions, I know my father… was slacking when it came to this.” Satoru says, and they nod carefully. “Please, be honest with me so I may help.”

“Rest in peace to his grace.” Satoru tries not to snort. “But indeed, his short run as Duke was absolutely devastating to the villages, we had hoped that perhaps you would…”

“Hush, Richard!” His wife hisses, and Satoru holds a hand up.

“No, I need honesty. Go on.”

Richard sighs, wiping his sweaty brow. “The taxes have made it near impossible to do anything but break even, and we give as much food to the manor as we can, but here people are hungry” Satoru feels sick then, thinking of his conditions, thinking of how he let this all go, let all of this go because of his hatred.

“Cut the manor’s supplies by twenty-five percent, to start.” You say then, and Satoru smiles, as you look at him curiously, and he just nods.

“We could never!” Richard’s wife says, clutching the bodice of her old brown dress she wears.

“Indeed you may, we have a surplus. And Duke Gojo will lower the taxes as much as he can, it may not go back to how it was, but he can certainly lower them, yes husband?”

Fuck you’re amazing.

“Indeed, I will lower them… twenty-five percent.” He smiles at you, and you light up, nodding. Richard and his wife begin to cry, then they’re on their knees at your feet, you squeak adorably, yanking on them.

You bring everyone to their knees, don’t you?

“No, no! Get up!” You hold their hands and smile at them. “We will work on fixing this, you have my word. For now that will provide much needed relief.”

“You’re an angel, a godsend.” His wife says through her tears, and you pull a fancy handkerchief out of your reticule, handing it to her and holding her shoulder gently.

Fuck you are an angel. Satoru marvels as you start speaking to them both, and Satoru does not have to do much, not with you there, not with others around coming to you, and marveling at your beauty, and your kind nature. You are so gracious and sweet to every last one of them, taking your time as the Duke speaks to the men about the financials.

“Please make us a list of what you need. We can come and help with supplies or anything.” You say before you all leave. “Make a list for us, yes?”

‘Indeed. Oh, your Grace, you married an angel.” Richard says now, and you shake your head with a little smile.

“You’re… fuck, you’re incredible.” Satoru says as you all are waving goodbye and heading to the next person you must speak to. You blush prettily at that, looking nervously at the ground.

“You’re being so nice. It’s so weird?” He laughs a bit then.

“I was very nice once upon a time. Let’s say someone broke me. Like I clearly tried to break you.” He hates himself as he speaks, but you take his hand carefully for a moment, he feels the satin of your gloves before you pull away.

“I’m not broken just yet. Who's next?”

“The landlords of the village, I do need to speak alone to them, they do not respect women’s opinions. As if their wives aren’t smarter.” You giggle and the sound does things to his entire body. “Would you mind spending some time looking at the horses for sale as I convene with them?”

“Oh, of course. I will meet you there.” It’s so easy to pretend you both are a couple, so very easy to pretend that Satoru almost believes it, and so quickly. When he does finish threatening the landlords and getting them to lower their rents, he finds you petting a beautiful white horse and feeding it an apple. You look back at him, your curls bouncing as you grin.

Fuck, his heart stops completely, as the rays of sunshine bounce off your skin, making it glow, and he wishes upon anything he had not been so horrible, so foolish, because now all he will get are glimpses of you. There would be nothing else, once you are gone.

“Come here, look at her, she’s a beauty!” You say with a laugh, and Satoru takes a breath and comes over then, petting the horse’s face gently, she looks up at him with big brown eyes.

“Quite a beauty. Is this the one you want?”

“You cannot buy me a horse-”

“Why not, it’s a trifle to me. At least enjoy… before you leave.” He mumbles then, as the words hurt to say. You look at the horse carefully, then look at Satoru, smiling so cute, he watches your face light up. Today he’s seen you smile so much, he does not think he ever has before, not after what he’s done.

Is this who you are?

“That is most generous, Gojo. Thank you.” You hug him before you seem to think better, easing back with a tighter smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. Let me purchase it, we can have her tied to the carriage.” Satoru purchases the horse and can’t stand how adorable you are, it causes some twinge he can’t place.

Satoru had long thought you so beautiful, long wanted your body, long enjoyed how you challenged him, your strength and confidence. But now he’s noticing every little thing you do, every gesture, every soft smile, everything about you, constantly endearing you to him. He should not get so close, so hopeless, knowing you do not want him, knowing you can never be his.

How can he fall for you now? When you’re not his, even if you’ve ended things, it’s not as if you suddenly would forgive and forget what Satoru’s done, especially in just a day or two. His problem last time was that he did not give you time, he just expected things to happen, as things always have for him, as a Duke, but you were not some conquest or some quick thing.

You are so much more.

Should he have hope, or is he a fool?

Now you all are in the midst of a little fair, where there are all sorts of villagers dancing and laughing, and you look up at Satoru then, sighing. “Although they’re so very underprivileged, don’t they seem so happy? So much more happy than…”

“Than you?”

“Than us.” You answer, and he sighs, nodding.

“They do seem happier. Perhaps finding the joy in community, in lovers, in family, whereas we just play our roles. Though I suppose your role will end soon.” He can’t stop the hurt in his voice, and you notice, blinking back emotion. You shouldn’t care, why do you still care at all?

“Perhaps. I know I would find joy in children, in family. Oh, hello!” A little girl runs up to you then, practicing her curtsey, making you giggle.

“Princess, Princess!” She says to you, and you look like one, don’t you, it’s why Satoru says so. You are straight out of some fairy tale, and Satoru is some beast you’re stuck with, surely.

“Aha, I am a Duchess, so very close. He is the Duke, so almost a Prince!” She points to you, and he chuckles a bit, shaking his head as you bend down, uncaring of the dirt at the bottom of your skirts. In fact you seem more alive here than you ever have at a dance or at the manor.

Satoru watches you light up then, as you stand up and hold that little girl in your arms, with the biggest smile on your lovely face, fuck it lights everything up, a sight he never thought he’d see near him. Not when he brought you so much pain before, so much so he detests himself for it, for clearly dimming this beautiful, bright soul you have with so much darkness.

Your little laugh is precious as you hold onto the kid, playing with her ringlets, and the kid grins so big back at you. “You so bootiful Dushess!” She speaks, and even Satoru smiles, he can’t help it, the kid is so genuine, and you’re so adorable with her.

“Me, beautiful, oh thank you, but you are such a beautiful Princess!” You say to her, and then you take off that little blue tiara you have, putting it on her little head as you sit her down on the ground. The little girl lights up, running to Satoru then, tugging at his lapels.

“I is a Pwincess!” She says with a big smile, and Satoru can’t stop his chuckle, adjusting the tiara worth far too much to be something for play, but then he notices you watching him, smiling at him so big, nodding.

God you’re beautiful.

You’re just glowing as you whisper - “tell her she is one”

Satoru sighs, leaning down on his haunches now. “You are indeed a true Princess, look at you! Can you twirl?”

“Twirl? Hmm!” She spins and he laughs, then takes her tiny little hand in his, spinning her instead, and she giggles like crazy, then Satoru looks at you, your hand on your chest, your eyes glassy as you smile.

“There, Princesses twirl like that. Let me show you with the Duchess. May I, my lady?” Satoru walks to you and bows at the waist, you blush so pretty as you give him a delicate curtsey.

“Indeed, you may, Prince Gojo.” She teases, winking at the little girl, who is bouncing up and down, as other kids come up with their parents, smiling at you both. Satoru takes your little hand in his big one, the other on your waist, realizing for once you are wearing short stays and not a corset, and he can feel your waist.

He has to take a breath for a moment, as he spins you, and then looks at the children with a smirk. “We need music!”

“Oh, let me sing!” One of the little kids says, and then they are all singing together, quite horribly, making you giggle as you look up at Satoru, and fuck you take his breath away.

Could you ever forgive him, care for him, stay with him?

The thought of you leaving makes his chest hurt so bad it’s like someone is ripping his heart out, to know he pushed you right into the arms of another, he hates himself for it. He wants so badly to know you, and he loves what he’s learned today, that you would be the best mother in the world. That you light up around children.

Perhaps your baker would have given you those, but for a heartstopping moment as you dance in his arms, in the middle of a poor little village with kids singing, he wonders if he’d change his vow to not have an heir, if only it was with you. If only you would stay, he would do anything for you now, anything to keep this smile.

He knows he has next to no chance, he knows he’s only beginning to repair anything, but you make him want to dream of it, make him want to try. As he dips you over his arm, and whispers against your ear - “A pretend kiss, Duchess?”

“You’re such a cad.” You whisper back, as he leans you back up to stand, eyeing your beautiful lips.

“For the children!?” He whispers, looking at them, then at you, and you sigh, looking up at him and nodding with a little smile.

“For them.” Satoru cups your face and plants a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips, and everyone is cheering.

“Royalty!”

“So in love!”

“So romantic!”

It’s not true, you’re doing this because he’s got you in an arrangement, because he’s trying his best to hold onto you, to just get a little bit of your attention and time before you slip through his fingers. But he feels you tremble in his arms, your arms wrap around his neck, and when you pull back you are flushed, smiling shyly, before you compose yourself and grin at the onlookers.

After you all had moved on and were walking back to the carriage, Satoru takes your hand, and you pause, before removing it, looking up at him. He sighs, his own hand at his side, as he burns for you, for your affection, something he pushed and pushed away. You sigh then, as you all get to the carriage, and look up at him, taking his hand.

You make his heart falter.

“Sorry, you’re trying to be so much kinder, I do appreciate it. But I’m too afraid that it’s a lie, that I have lost someone who loves me because I am foolish.” Satoru nods then, thinking of that man on you, swallowing down the sickness.

“I have one thing to say. If you would let me.” You take a breath, nodding then, and he cups your cheek, looking down at you, and feeling you tense, biting your lower lip. “I wish that was our first kiss.”

Tears form in your glittering eyes, as you suck in a breath now, looking away and your lip trembles. You shake your head, and Satoru’s heart is pounding, he’s never vulnerable, he’s so terrified, will you shoot him down, and how will he react? He’s so fucking scared…

“I wish that was our first kiss too.” You say finally, and he gasps, as you then turn away, and his hand touches your waist gently, helping you up into the carriage. He comes to sit next to you and you take his hand again, carefully with a small smile. “I wish we… well I guess it…”

“Yes. I agree.” You pull away but he pulls it back, and your eyes lock, the breaths loud in the carriage as it rocks gently. “I know you’re leaving me, but could I please enjoy this while I can?”

“Enjoy my hand?”

“Yes.”

You nod then, pulling back and taking off your glove, smiling as you hold his hand so carefully, now bare, your skin against his making him yearn ever more. “You mean like this?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He murmurs, holding your little hand, and you nod just a bit, as the sunlight filters through the carriage blinds, and Satoru thinks for once, maybe he could open up, he could try even if it’s going to end in his own pain. Even if you’re too far gone, he cannot give up. He has to try for you.

“Today was beautiful.” You say after a few minutes of quiet, and he looks over at you now.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Don’t… please…” Your voice breaks, and he sighs, shaking his head and turning to you now, still holding your hand. “Duke Gojo…”

“I should have told you from the beginning. That night, our wedding night, how beautiful you looked, your lacy little outfit, your hair shimmering.”

“Don’t.”

“You looked perfect, your body I can only imagine fully, I’ve just seen it in pieces, but I know it’s beautiful. I know your heart is beautiful. I saw you today, uncaring of dirt, treating these people as equals. I have never met a fucking noble like that.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“I gave you no credit until now. None. I was horrible.” He hates himself then, as emotion wrecks him, emotions he wants to keep in as he cups your face. You have little tears glistening down your cheeks. “I know you’re not mine. But it was so beautiful to pretend.”

You grip his wrist, as if to take it off, but you don’t, you shake your head at him now. “Why did you do this? Why did you cause this? Do you not understand, if you did not, I would have… fallen… I…”

“What?” He asks quietly, and now you take a breath and shut your eyes, as you speak words he thinks are impossible.

“Even now, after all you’ve done, I feel things for you, I don’t know if they are hatred, I have no idea, but they consume me. Consume me so much I had to let a good man go, because you’re always in my fucking head. I hate it, I hate it so.” You take his hand off then, and Satoru exhales, as you swipe your tears off your cheeks.

“Do you think of me?” He asks, and you laugh then, without humor, eyes glistening with a sheen of tears as you study him.

“You are like a plague, a sickness, I hate it. I hate you so much, Satoru.”

“Satoru?”

“That’s what you hear!? Not that I hate you, that I hate what you do to me!? That I can’t rid myself of you? Even when we’re done, I have no clue if I will, thinking of your body on me, thinking of your lips on mine, biting mine. When I had someone perfect, and all I desire is you. I hate it, I hate it.” Your words get hoarse, as your breasts heave in your bodice, as your cheeks flush with anger, or more.

Satoru scowls then, grabbing you by your waist. “You think you don’t constantly consume me? I told you I burn for you, I meant it, in every way. Not just your body, not just your face, it’s everything, everything about you making me fawn over you like some stupid schoolboy. Just by existing you destroy me.”

“You destroy me.” You’re crying fully now, and you shock him then, bringing him down to meet your lips.

You’re kissing him!?

Satoru has always kissed you, mostly when you fought, when you were so sexy when angry he could not stop himself, when you pushed him to the point he could not hold back any longer. But now you’re pouring your passion into his lips, and he pulls you against him, moaning into your lips, tasting your sweet lips, drinking you in, as you’re even closer against him.

You pull back, shaking your head at him, struggling to breathe. “I hate that I want you, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t!” You smack at his chest then, and he lets you, he deserves your hits he deserves none of your kisses, none of your kindness.

“I know you shouldn’t. I know.” He brushes your hair back, falling out of your perfect little coif, and you’re trembling in his hold, as he looks at you so lovingly, as the carriage is reminding him of that night, the night he tasted you.

“Why do I want you?” You are asking yourself more than him, as he’s right against your lips, as you breathe each other’s air, as he can feel your pulse racing under his thumb as he feels your little wrist in his grip. “I’m a whore, you’re right.”

“You are not a whore. I should have never called you that. I’m… fuck I’m so sorry for saying it, for blaming you. I just… I wanted to be your first.”

“You didn’t deserve to.”

“I know.”

You sigh then, head falling back as he pulls you into his embrace, as he feels you tensing, then relaxing in his grip, now one of your thighs is over his, and he’s slipping his hands up your skirt, inch by inch, watching you and waiting for you to tell him to stop, but you don’t. You’re just watching him, as he reveals your legs, clad in little white stockings with bows.

“Like the wedding night.” He murmurs out loud without realizing, and you shift, even closer, it’s as if you’re both drawn to each other like magnets, like he’s drawn to your gravity, and you his, as he’s consumed by images of you. “I should have given you a true wedding night. Not having you crying and hurt. You should never forgive me, never, for any of it.”

“I know I should not. I know.” Your hand runs down his chest then, as Satoru’s hand is even higher, and he finds you, soaking wet and dripping, and he moans as he feels you, so slick. You cry out, head falling back, hips rolling for more. “I should not want you. I hate it. I hate you.”

“You should hate me.” He whispers, as he slides a finger in your tight entrance, watching your eyelashes flutter, as your breath quickens, and you whimper from the back of your throat, making Satoru so hard he can’t stand it, it’s painful. When he leans down to kiss you again, lips hovering. “Let me make you cum, please, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Fuck it means so much to him though.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, I’m stupid.”

“So am I. But you’re not stupid, it’s… something between us, I’ve never felt it, even with my… with my ex. Ever.”

You look up in surprise, but then just moan out loud when he finds your clit now, and he can’t stop himself, he’s dragging you on his lap, you’re straddling him, as he fingers you, as you’re soaking his hand. And you’re clinging to his shoulders, kissing him desperately, messily, unpracticed still but fuck you’re good at it, as he pumps his fingers in your eager little cunt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful.” He whispers, enamored by the goddess on his lap now, and you’re clenching around his fingers now, gasping. “That’s it, cum Princess.”

Your POV

Satoru makes you cum right on his long fingers, so easily, so hard you’re blinded, as your entire body overheats, and you’re trembling in his hold, as he presses you down now, and you feel it, his length so hard and pressed between your lips. You moan out, grinding and rolling your hips, and fuck you want more, you can’t take it, when he looks up at you with those blue eyes.

When those elegant fingers unlace your bodice, and he’s sucking a nipple into his mouth, pressing up, and your head falls back, as waves of pleasure roll through your body, then he’s kissing you again, and you can’t think, you can’t function. You need Satoru Gojo like you need air, and you’re horrible for it, for wanting him so goddamn bad.

You break away and his pretty lips pout, thin brows draw together. “Please, it doesn’t have to-”

“It means something. It does, and I don’t know what it fucking means. I don’t know anything, Satoru.” You can’t help it, but feel vulnerable in his strong arms, and he’s cupping your face so delicately.

“You can still leave me, I understand. Just let me please you again, and again, until you pass out from pleasure, until-” Gojo’s desperation, his pleading, and his stupidly pretty face do you in.

You’ve fought it so long and you’re weak for him.

“Fuck it.” You pull back then, to his shock, unbuttoning him eagerly, and his eyes are wide in shock, as his own breaths hitch, and you find his length with your hand, stroking his pretty cock, watching his own head fall back.

“Oh my god I’m fucking dreaming.” He whispers, as you’re stroking up and down, feeling his hot skin, he’s so hard for you, and he’s kissing you again and again, moaning into your mouth. “Fuck I could cum just from that. Pathetic for you, fuck you.”

“Fuck you, fuck you. Hate you Satoru.” You whisper, then he scowls at you, gripping your hair.

“Should fuck that bitchy mouth.” His aggressive words just turn you on more, and he stops himself. “Fuck I shouldn’t say that, I’m sorry, I’m trying to-”

“Fuck my mouth then.” You say, earning him sputtering at you, before he’s pushing you down on your knees in the carriage, and he’s shoved his cock in your mouth, and you’re so wet it’s stupid, as he groans, hitting your throat.

“Fuck, feel so good, slutty throat, isn’t it?” You just nod, pathetic like he is, you want him to call you it, you love his cock hitting the back of his throat, love him moaning, whimpering above you as he’s cupping your face. “Oh my god, fuck.”

“Mmm.” Is all you manage, as you’re playing with your pussy under your skirts, aching for him.

“So slutty, you’ll play with yourself? No.” He yanks your hand off now, sucking on your fingers and groaning. “Only I can touch you.”

You pull back then, letting him go with a pop of your lips, eyeing the precum on his tip, before looking back to Satoru, glaring. “Only you!?”

“I want to fuck this attitude out of you.” He whispers, as the carriage stops then, and you realize what you’re doing. You hurriedly run out, leaving him to adjust himself and chase you, you can’t breathe, fuck you can’t… “Please, please… don’t leave, don’t run from me. Please it can mean nothing if you want. Just use me.”

“Use you… what… I…” Satoru stops you in the halls again, pressing you into that wall he’d had you on before, barring you with his arms on either side.

“You can still go. Just please, give me this moment, I have never wanted someone like this, I’ve never needed someone like this.” You shake your head, trying to come to your senses as he’s consuming you. “I’ll just make you cum, you don’t have to touch me again.”

“I liked touching you, sucking you! Fuck you for that!” You shove at him, and he exhales, so tall over you, so beautiful as his face is so close, as his hand slides to your bodice, undoing it lace by lace, and you’re on fire for him.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You do!”

“I don’t. I hated you because… fuck… you look like someone, who hurt me, okay? Just like her.” He’s cupping your face, and you blink in surprise, feeling him open, feeling his vulnerability. “It’s no excuse, and I can explain more later, but please, please let me keep touching you, I know I don’t fucking deserve to, but please.”

Satoru finally confirms what you thought.

You want to know more, but your addled, overheated mind can only think how much you want him. “It doesn’t mean I’ll stay. It doesn’t.”

He’s unlaced you fully now, and unzipping your skirts, letting them fall to a pool at your ankles. You’re in just your chemise now, nothing else, and in the middle of the manor, where any servant could walk out. You are on fire everywhere he touches, everywhere he kisses, as he picks you up now, your stocking clad legs wrapped around his hips.

“I know. I know. Let me have you cumming on my face again, let me drink every bit of you, please. There is no one I desire as you.”

“Liar, liar!” You cry out as he’s kissing you again, as he’s grinding his hips and pressing against you. “Liar.”

“I was a liar. I was. Not now. You are a madness, a black hole, sucking me in every minute you breathe.” You can’t take it, as you’re letting him carry you, as he’s shutting the door to his room, and you glare at his bed.

“How many whores came on it? I won’t fuck you on it.” You say then, and he grins like a little shit head.

“You are going to fuck me?”

“No!”

“Hmm. They’ve been cleaned. But I can fuck you on the wall, like a pretty little slut, is that what you want?”

You scoff, shoving at him. “I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I hate you.”

“Mmm, I know, Princess.”

“Not a Princess- fuck!” Satoru’s slipped off his coat, his shirt, and you drink in his perfect body, as you slide your chemise down now, and he’s staring at you, dropping to his knees, mouth dropping open.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Every bit of you.” He presses kisses on your tummy, as you feel emotions consuming you when he pulls down your stockings gently, as you feel Satoru’s energy taking over, as you cannot stand hardly from just his breath against you.

“I should not want you. I should not. I hate myself for it.”

Satoru looks up at you, his blue eyes swirling as he inhales you, mouth kissing your pussy just the slightest bit, making your hips jerk, as he throws a thigh over his shoulder. “I hate myself for hurting you. I hate myself so much.”

His words break you, you can’t stop the tears, of desire, hatred, confusion, of everything, of his vulnerability as he kisses your inner thigh, biting it hard, and then the pain makes you even wetter. “I hate myself and I hate you.”

“I hate myself for making you hate me.”

“Fuck… fuck just…”

“Just what?” He raises a brow, and you glare.

“Just…” You press his head against you now, and he moans, tongue lapping at you as only he can, as if he knows every spot, every inch, fucking you with his tongue as his nose bumps your sensitive clit, then he’s sinking two fingers in, and you’re cumming embarrassingly fast, as he drinks you. “Satoru!”

“Oh my god.” He groans, vibrating you as he continues fingering, looking up at you. “I can do this all fucking day. Nothing else.”

“Mmm, liar, you liked me sucking you.” He smirks then.

“Are you talking shit to me, insolent brat?”

“Sure am. Fuck you for being that good at this. Ah!” He’s sucking on your clit now, humming on it until your knees get weak, and you knock him down to the floor, eagerly grinding on him again, and he flips you on your back, the cool marble against overheated flesh, hovering over you.

You can’t speak then, not when he’s covered in your slick all over his face, not when he’s shoving two fingers back in, watching you fall apart hungrily on his goddamn floor, and you’re writhing under him. “Want to be fucked on the floor, maybe you are just a pretty little whore.”

“Oh fuck you, Mr. I fuck the brothel. Hate you.” He chuckles then, pulling out his fingers and sliding them in your mouth then, making you choke out as you taste yourself.

“Shut you up. Ah!” You bite his fingers now, and Satoru winces, shaking them off and laughing like a psycho. “Evil little bitch.”

“Cruel, mean ass fucking Duke. Hate you, mmm.” Satoru’s cock is at your entrance, and you’re cumming just from it rubbing on your clit, he gasps then, his jaw clenching. “Mmm!”

“Cumming from that, are you so pathetic, Princess?” He whispers, and you glare up at him, on your elbows now, he shoves you down, thigh high over his arm, and he looks at you, eyes darting back and forth on your face. “Ready to actually get fucked, like the pretty slut you are?”

“All talk, aren’t you, bet you- ah!” Satoru’s cock has shoved fully inside you now, and you’re shuddering as you try to take it, as he’s filled you so full, and he pauses then, lips parted, looking down at you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, leaning lower, a hand sliding up your ribcage, his forehead resting on yours for a moment. “You feel better than anything. Perfect.”

For once, the word does not hurt.

Because Satoru feels perfect inside of you.

“So tight. So wet. Oh my- fuck-” Satoru slides out, then back in, and you’re screaming out at it, at how he’s grinding his tip on your cervix, something you’ve never felt, so intense you’re shaking. “Beautiful.”

“Oh shut up, fucking… don’t make me like you… just… fuck me, ah!” Satoru’s stroking in you now, and your head slams into the floor at how good it feels, as he’s moaning over you, kissing down your throat, your breasts, fucking you harder and harder, so hard it hurts, but you want it you want- “more, more.”

“So slutty, need to get fucked good huh?” You say nothing, and he slams into you hard, and you’re cumming again, so intense you can’t see, everything goes blurry, and he then is pulling out, making you whine. “Cock hungry, aren’t you?”

“Fuck off, Satoru. Fuck-” He picks you up now, throwing you on his bed, and slamming back into you, groaning as he rolls his hips, as he snaps them into your pussy over and over, and you’ve never felt that good. You’re losing yourself in him, in his cock, his hands, his lips, his everything.

Just physical, it has to be, you can’t love him.

You can’t, you won’t, you never will.

You’re stupid.

But fuck his cock is wrecking every thought you had, and where Nanami at this point would be done, this psycho is just getting started it seems, as he’s pulling both your legs up, fucking your deeper. You’re clinging to his blankets desperately as he pumps, and your head is going side to side.

“Gonna fucking ruin you, Princess, for anyone.” He whispers, shoving your thighs against your breasts, and you’re gushing all around him, as he pumps so deep. “Make your cunt mine.”

“It’s not yours. It’s not. Ah! Mmm!” Satoru’s turned you then, and you’re on your tummy, panicking, looking up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Gonna fuck you like this, Princess. What, thought you were so experienced, huh?” He slides his cock in as you’re on your tummy, and he’s so deep like this, you feel him everywhere. He takes you over, as he buries his head against your neck, biting it, his hand sliding low as you’re shattering, unsure of your existence.

“It’s too much, too much.” You whine out, and he laughs then, psycho ass duke, rolling his fingertips on your clit, and you can’t take it, your head falls back, and he’s got a hand around your throat.

“Too much, Princess? What he couldn’t fuck you like this?” He shoves in so deep while he’s squeezing your throat, you feel like you’re floating. “You like it, me choking you, don’t you?”

“Fuck you.” He smiles against your cheek, his silky white hair tickling you, moaning into your ear then, sounding so sexy it pushes you over the edge.

“Feel her pulsing around me, fuck she wants my cum, doesn’t she? Slutty cunt, fuck I almost would just to feel it.” His words are madness, as he keeps squeezing, as he’s slamming his cock inside you, and you can hear the squelching wetness as she sucks him in, greedy for more, until your orgasm rocks you. “Oh fuck, that’s it, Duchess, that’s it. Cum all over me.”

“Hate you, hate you.” You whisper out, but you hate yourself, because you have never felt this good. He’s tilting your head now, slamming his lips against yours, in a mind numbing kiss, his cock working you over and over into oblivion, your walls clenching around him, you hate how you can’t imagine not having this.

“Could’ve been doing this, fuck I’m stupid fuck. I hate myself.” He huffs the words, then your eyes lock, and your vision blurs on his pretty face. “Best I’ve ever had, ever.”

“Liar. Manwhore.” You kiss him brutally, a hand reaching back to pull his hair tightly, and he moans at that, fucking you harder, each thrust smacking your ass, making it jiggle.

“Little slut. Wanna be fucked mean, don’t you?” He fucks brutal then, slamming your cervix, gripping you and gasping. “Oh my god, cum again, fuck cum again. Slutty fucking cunt gripping me too good.”

“Fuck you, Satoru- ah!” You scream out as you do cum one last time, fuck you’ve lost count, you’re weak and going numb as he thickens inside you, pulling out then, jerking himself into his hand, whimpering as he cums, hunched over as if in pain, and you carefully sit up, watching him breathlessly.

Satoru’s hand is covered in thick white ropes, so much of it, still pouring out of his pretty pink tip, his eyes fluttering shut, lips parted. You’re trying to catch your breath at what just happened, you feel as if you’re going to fall off the edge of the world. He looks at you then, as you look at his cock, fuck you could suck him again, he tasted so good, how does his cum taste?

Why do you think this way!?

“Let me… don’t leave, please?” He pleads, and you nod a bit, as he comes back with a washcloth, carefully wiping you, lovingly almost, what a joke, studying your pussy carefully with a smirk.

“What?”

“Beat her up.”

“Oh god.” You smack at his hand then, rolling your eyes. “You’re such an immature man. Boy I should say.”

“Boy, huh, how many times did you cum?” You’re blushing then, as he’s leaned close, kissing your lips once more. You bite him, glaring. “You’re so adorable mad, you know that?”

“You vex me so.” You push him off then, trying to catch your breath, as the reality sets in.

Nanami was right.

You ended up right in his bed.

As if reading your mind, Satoru sighs, brushing your hair back. “I’ll still allow you to leave, even if we’ve consummated the marriage.”

You look at him in shock then. “You will?”

“I gave you my word. I don’t want you too, but I will not hold you here if you still want to then. I swear it.”

“But why?”

“Because you deserve that choice, the one not given to ladies. You deserve to leave me for what I did.” He blinks away tears, lingering on his white lashes, and you break into pieces, falling deeper into his gravity, into his black hole.

He seems to feel you’re his black hole.

How do two black holes work? Do they destroy each other?

“I must… I must go.” You say softly, and he shuts his eyes, resting his forehead on yours now, nodding.

“I don’t want you to go. But I understand. I wish I could… bloody hell this is stupid. Wish I could hold you.”

“Hold me?”

“Yes, I ache to hold you every night. But I’ve brought it all upon myself. Thank you, for this. I did not deserve it, did not deserve to feel you, and your tight little pussy, watch your beautiful face, touch your perfect body. None of it. Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?”

“Yes.” His eyes lock on yours when he pulls back, and you can’t put two and two together.

“I can’t trust you yet.”

He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I know.”

“If I fall, you’ll just get a new mistress, flaunt her, you’ll-”

“There will be nothing after what I just felt with you. You’ve ruined me, Duchess, ruined me forever.” His words are hoarse, and so easy to fall into you have to pull away, shaky as you stand, he has to steady you. “Do you want to know more about her?”

You nod, you’d been so overwhelmed you could not remember anything for a moment. “I would, yes.”

“Get rest tonight, I will share with you tomorrow, after we take care of more pressing issues with the village.” He slides your chemise on, and touches your shoulders with his hands, even that action makes you ache for more, as your pussy throbs from his cock still, aching in ways you never have. “Thank you for everything today, even if it’s just once.”

His eyes, his face, his lips, his vulnerability, it’s too much. You lean up then, as he bends down, kissing him, letting him hold you. “I shouldn’t have.”

“You shouldn’t have, but you did. I’ll dream of it.”

“Shut it, Satoru. Fuck you vex me.” You kiss him again, before dragging yourself away, taking several breaths. “I still hate you.”

“You should.” He takes your hand, kissing it then. “There’s no excuse for anything I’ve done. I will never be able to make up for it. But I hope… tomorrow you’ll understand me more.”

“I hope I will as well. It was all I ever wanted.” Your voice breaks, and you turn away then. “I bid you goodnight.”

“Good night, Princess.” He pulls you back, tilting your chin up, kissing your forehead, and you melt from it. “Thank you.”

You cannot speak, you just leave quietly, back against the large wood doors, eyes shutting as you try to compose yourself, as you try to understand what happened, but there’s no words for it. You’d loved what Satoru did, you’d loved his cock inside you, loved him biting you, calling you a slut, loved him taking you from behind, consuming you utterly.

You are shaking as your Nan prepares a bath, and you can’t even speak to her, as you sink into the hot waters, remembering every bit of his touch. Is that what sex truly was, when you felt so much? Nanami had been so sweet with you, Nanami had professed his love, begged you to stay, but you left him.

You’re horrible.

Because Nanami isn’t even in your mind, unless you force him there, unless you make yourself think of him. It’s all Satoru Gojo, your mean husband, a cruel man who had destroyed you, a man that had fucked women right in front of you. A man that had pushed you to lose your innocence, when perhaps you would not have so quickly, perhaps you’d have thought better.

If he did not destroy your mind, your psyche, your soul. But you wanted to forgive everything when his pretty face looked at you like that, when his eyes gave you that gaze that made you feel so desired, like you were the only thing that existed for him. Nanami had never looked at you like that whatever the fuck that was.

You should scrub Satoru Gojo off you, but instead your mind is filled with images of him, that sweat dripping down his straight nose, his lips reddened from your kisses, the way his eyes rolled back when you sucked him. Instead you relish in it all, in a man you’re going to leave, in a man you don’t know, that made your body come to life.

You sink into the tub then, into the water, scalding hot, and you hope it burns you alive, as you scream out under the water in frustration.

What the fuck were you doing?

A/N: Lots of people are torn on this story, as they should be! Some people don't like the Duchess, she's not perfect as perfect characters bore me, I like complex ones. This was always a gojo/reader even if I really am confusing and hurting people lol. Love ya'll who enjoy my mess, Nanami isn't gone from the story by the way!

Taglist : @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @chiyokoemilia  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @peppertoastuniverse @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @airandyeah @jaylenezzz @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @teacupwaifu @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog @nanananananaiknow @spookyblackhottie @ekaterinatepes @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @szna

Until the next one, dear masochist readers

[trappedinafantasy37]

Gods, Agatha is such a diabolical cunt. Never did I think I'd ever love someone more than Wanda, but she's now my new favorite bitch of the MCU. Kathryn Hahn really knocked it out of the park with this one! Her line delivery is just impeccable, and she is marvelous at playing out the bloodthirsty sociopath that you can't help but sympathize with. Like, she knows what she's about and she's not ashamed of it.

I'mma talk about Agatha All Along real quick cause it's late at night and I just finished the show in a sleepy haze and I need to get all these thoughts out while I battle another insomnia episode. So SPOILERS!

I was shooketh to find out that the witches road never even existed and was never real. The original ballad was based on a song her and her son made up while traveling, and it twisted into the ballad of the Witches Road over time. But other young witches believed the ballad to be a real tale, so they came to Agatha and wanted her to guide them down the road. So, she turned the ballad into a bait to lure other witches into a trap and steal their powers. This is how Agatha became a legend as the "only known survivor of the Witches Road". Of course she's the only survivor of the road! She made it the fuck up and then murdered everyone!

Agatha was bitching to Rio about her tormenting her the entire time and making her life a living hell. I was so confused on why Agatha would say this or why Rio would be sticking so closely to Agatha this entire time since her son's death. But that's because Rio has been following Agatha for centuries down the "Witches Road" because Agatha was dropping bodies left and right. And Agatha hated this because she sees Rio as responsible for taking her son, but Rio was just doing her job. Hells, Rio even did Agatha a massive favor by allowing Nicholas to live at all and giving Agatha at least some time with her son. And the little moment Agatha and Rio have where Rio says "as long as I get my bodies" is because there has always been bodies during the "Witches Road" and it is what Rio is expecting of Agatha. Rio only gets directly involved with this one because Billy "broke the rules" and cheated death and she is here to collect him specifically.

It's of no wonder why Agatha seems so erratic and winging it during all of the trials because there has never been trials. The Witches Road has never been real. She gets so frustrated at the beginning trial and yells at the witches to blast her because that is how it has always played out, until it didn't and the road actually revealed itself. She clocked Billy really early on because she realized that he used his mother's powers, induced unnecessary suffering, and killed people to get what he wanted (even if he didn't know that was what he was doing).

The Witches Road only became real because Billy made it real using his reality bending powers. He made the same mistake Wanda did and conjured it into existence because he wanted it to be real so bad. He wanted answers and to find out how to get Tommy back. That is what he expected at the end of the road and it's what he got. And like Wanda, Agatha helped him figure out how to get Tommy and get him what he has wanted. And Billy unintentionally got 3 people killed in the process. But he also helped Jen unbind herself and get her powers back.

And also, Lady Death is now in the MCU!!!! She's literally one of the most, if not the most powerful entity in the entire Marvel creation. She cannot die, cannot be killed, and cannot be injured. And Aubrey Plaza is just *chef's kiss*. She managed to leave such a massive impact by doing very little. I could not have imagined any one better and I'm actually surprised it took so long for her to make her way into the MCU. I would be severely disappointed if this was the last time we ever saw Aubrey Plaza as Lady Death. I know we're gonna see Billy, hopefully we see Tommy, but I need Rio Vidal.

I initially thought Disney was gonna pull the rug out from us and this show was just gonna be another queerbait. But the evil lesbian witches actually kissed, even if it was the kiss of death.

[impossiblewynaud]

ALL I WANTED TODAY WAS THE LEFTOVER RAVIOLI BUT MY SISTER(YOUNGER, BLOOD RELATED) DECIDED SHE HAD TO FUCKING HAVE IT SO INSTEAD OF BEING KIND, AND MAKING SOMETHING ELSE, SHE COMPLAINED TO OUR SICK MOTHER. I LITERALLY HAD TO GIVE UP MY DELICIOUS ALFREDO RAVIOLI TO GET MY SISTER AWAY FROM MY MOM(WHO HAS FUCKING LEUKEMIA) AND NOW IM HAVING A SANDWICH I HATE EVERYTHING

[spacedlexi]

A little while ago you said that you have nuanced feelings on Clem x Louis, and I think that’s how I’d describe my opinion on the ship as well. I was just wondering, what makes you feel that way? Personally, I think they’re romance scenes are cute and sweet, but the whole situation with Marlon makes me unable to see them as anything other than friends. I think they both mean a lot to each other, but the idea that they’d want to date so soon after that whole ordeal’s a bit of a stretch to me.

putting this under a read more so if anyone even Thinks they might get upset about mild louis opinions they can move on and stay happy. seriously people take this stuff too seriously sometimes and i dont want to stir anyone up but also im allowed to have my own opinions OKAY. none of this means i dont like him or them OKAY??

okay

thats pretty much where my opinions are too

the stuff with marlon and the vote is Definitely the biggest thing that influences my opinion about their romance. i always forget just how Cruel he is in EP2 😭 like im on your side dude what aj did was wrong can we just talk about this 😭 but he votes to kick them out. like his reaction about marlon doesnt bother me, its his insistence on kicking them out that does 😔 my clem will always forgive him for it, i believe him when he says he regrets it, but its gonna take some time for trust to build again. for both of them

having only one scene between his apology and the lock in was just not gonna happen for my clem. she was mad at him for it. aj almost died because of it. she might be doing better now but she still has trust issues and her trust was broken just as much as his was. he was fine with never seeing her again, sending her and aj out to their deaths because he struggled to accept his confused feelings about marlon. that pissed my clem off shdfksd she is barely keeping this child alive let alone herself. her face when ajs kicking the wall bro she was like "its so fucking over" 😭 cmon bro look at her shes dead inside have some compassion. and he still hits her with the "i dont know [if i want you to stay]" even after aj gets shot like cmon man...... Cmon.........

and while shes waiting for louis to finally be ready to talk about what happened with marlon (which my clem apologizes for in the dorm, she does genuinely feel bad about it), her and violet are only growing closer, focusing on preparing the school together for the bigger problem. clem knowing vi has her back is a huge source of relief in everything thats going on, and that means a Lot for my clem, who appreciates the idea of having a partner she can rely on. my clem is already sure of her feelings for vi by the time louis apologizes. but she appreciates his apology, and is looking forward to being friends again, because she did genuinely appreciate his friendship at the beginning. but her heart was really truly Broken about everything with marlon and the vote and i think thats gonna take more time to heal. depending on player choice some clems might not even forgive him (some others might say he was right and that clem didnt stop it but... i do not agree with that.. like how could she have... aasim calls mitch a hypocrite for saying the same thing)

the other less important thing is just his general blasé attitude. my clem takes things seriously, but that doesnt mean she doesnt know how to have fun. she Wants to. she just Cant. she has a child to take care of first, and she cares about the survival of the group. its why my clem is looking for someone she knows she can rely on. she never wanted any of this, and she just wants a little support, someone to help take the weight off so she CAN relax. shes so tired 😭. playing with louis while aasim hunts by himself made me feel Dirty 💀 (i literally couldnt do it the first time i felt so bad AASIM WAIT UP). and while i can understand and appreciate his "there might not be a tomorrow so enjoy today" outlook, it cant come at the expense of the group. louis i feel eventually learns this, finding a balance between the two, and Becomes someone clem can rely on. but his change doesnt begin until like.. after the raiders take everyone (because we have to get through the marlon stuff first). and if you save vi, you dont get to see any of it 😔

the thing about these two problems is that, if you were to take them out of this setting and throw them in like, a modern au, suddenly these are not issues anymore. no more life or death. the stakes are a lot lower. so i can see them dating in that scenario and having fun together. they do have cute moments!! but also due to less stakes, theres less to motivate louis to change. and i think they would fundamentally just not click on their worldviews. clem while she can have fun, ultimately takes things seriously, and louis doesnt. that doesnt mean they dont care about each other, and clem definitely appreciates his energy, but its why i see them still ending up as friends instead of romantic partners (esp if vi is around IM SORRY 😭 they just Click too well for me 😔 this is why my messy au exists 💀)

i also understand this is mostly personal preference and some people might like them for these reasons 😭 but the dynamic that they have i prefer as friends personally. theyre supportive of each other and deeply care about each other, just not romantically imo. especially not after the stuff with marlon. and thats ok!!!! i see it a lot like louis' relationship with vi. not romantic. but they Love each other regardless. honestly the reason why i like clem vi and louis as a trio so much is that clem slots between them really well. louis who doesnt take anything seriously, and vi who takes things Too seriously. clem exists between them. knowing having fun is important but also understanding the weight of responsibility. she helps louis become more responsible, and she helps vi chill the fuck out. she brings balance :)

i will say tho louis' "nothing wrong with short and sweet, right?" line was cute he got me there

[arundolyn]

ohhhh my fucking god nobody needs to like know any of this medical tmi but it is literally 11 pm and if im kept up one minute longer when i just laid down trying to go to sleep by my mother YELLING REPEATEDLY that she needs to pee. im going to actually go insane. she got a catheter in. Yesterday. it is working. she won't listen to anyone when they tell her that this is the case. help me jesus. im sure if a nurse comes to check on her tomorrow they'll probably get the same response. my brain will simply explode

[meatheadmutt]

why am i having to hold a gun to googles head to show me articles on the long term effects of hormonal birth control on the endocrine system in adult patients who began usage as a teenager

[voidcat]

once again at my wits end bc of men

[socialbunny]

👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽some of my skipy lore in the tags i was supposed to bridge it with something else but i forgot what i wanted to say 😭

[poptartmochi]

ah. hm. ykw important context for that last post would be that the oracle was heavily involved with the light infiltrating her world + sowing a million seeds of ruin which lead to her friends 🧐 who once had a bond of steel turning so intensely against each other + taking the world down w them if it meant the other would fall

[irishbreakfst]

How to send an email to everyone in my office asking for things to do without actually doing that

[gurorori]

and i know she's always been like this and we've had to deal with this our entire life but how... i would have lost it already. =_=

[wintaerbaer]

bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Too Many Beds

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist 

summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again

pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.1k 

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad

timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one

author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol

You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family. 

When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.

So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).

“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”

“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”

“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”

There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.

“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash. 

“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.

You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.

“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints. 

**

“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.

You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”

“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”

You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”

“Understood.” He nodded.

You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”

**

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping. 

And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation. 

As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face. 

“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”

“I thought it looked familiar.”

He rolled off of you and out of bed. 

You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.

“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.

**

You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!? 

It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since. 

But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.

Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example. 

**

“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied. 

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.

“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile. 

“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you. 

God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.

**

It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake. 

“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.

“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”

You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.

“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.

**

“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”

Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message. 

“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.

Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound. 

As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.

“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you. 

You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.

“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”

“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face. 

“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”

“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”

“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him. 

“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”

“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…” 

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips. 

“That,” Dean finished his previous statement. 

“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”

“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.

You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly. 

“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered. 

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”

“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”

Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.

You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again. 

“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”

You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”

“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.

“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”

As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”

“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed. 

“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”

“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”

“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”

“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.

“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”

“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.

[hyewka]

—what a loser! | c.bg

୨୧ synopsis. hearing rumours of your sex life travel around your campus for the first time has you standing in front of the very person that you’re convinced is responsible. your secret fuck buddy.

୨୧ warnings. stoner!gyu, bratty sub!beomgyu, mean femdom, humiliation kink, VERY public, hair pulling, hate sex kind of, cunnilingus, use of pet, fuck buddies, reader has a priest dad, bit of a toxic dynamic

“Why’re you here?” he mumbles casting his eyes down to his feet as he idly skates around, not paying you even a little bit of eye contact or actual acknowledgement.

“Can we talk somewhere else? More private?”

He ignores you.

You huff, rolling your eyes, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. The sun had already set, there were even less people out—no one was skating around at this hour but Beomgyu. “Why—" you take a breath, already feeling yourself get emotional and angry, “Why did you go around telling people about us?”

There’s a few reasons circling your head. Attention, bragging rights—attention was a big one but you hoped, no, a part of you believes it was an accident. That he let the information slip from his lips when he was drunk, or out of his right mind. But with the way he’s acting, it’s getting harder to hold on to the belief that Beomgyu was misunderstood and not just a fucking asshole.

Too much time goes by with silence and you think hes blatantly ignoring you again, but then he halts his skating, taking the time to run a hand through his hair. Hair that you’ve regretfully played with days on end, twirling strands around your finger, giggling as if the foundation you’ve built your relationship on wasn’t such a fragile fire that could be snuffed out in seconds if not the tiniest bit careful.

Look where you are now.

“Dunno, ‘cuz I can.”

His eyes are on you, bangs parted, looking straight at you. You can’t get it out of your mind, how the ends of his lips twitched up as he said that. Bitch. Fucking bitch.

He finds this amusing. A game. Your reputation was a game to him. Of course it is. He never took anything serious, not his career, not his relationships, not his future—he never cared.

Your nostrils flare as you stomp large strides towards him, charging and shoving his chest, having him stumble backwards off his board, dryly laughing. “The goody two shoes about to commit an assault?”

“Oh fuck off, you wouldn’t dare try suing me. God, I hate you so much. You’re such a—such a fucking loser!” you yell.

That wiped off the cocky demeanour.

“Here’s some two cents for you, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whatever this is between us. I really couldn’t. But you—” your face gets heated up, pointing a finger at him. “You will never find anything better than what I gave you. And you’re going to live with that.”

He scoffs like he’s unbothered but it’s so clear with the way he clenches his jaw afterwards he’s pissed—it hit a spot. Good. Good, let him be hurt.

“What do you even—what did you gain by telling everybody my sex life? Having people call me a slut? Some sick pleasure from being superior to me for once? Attention? Huh? Why’re you acting out now?” Your eyes are narrowed as they implore answers out of him, searching his face and eyes, anything, anything that you can read from his unbearable silence.

“Yeah.”

You blink confused. “What?”

“Yeah, I wanted the attention. Happy now?” He walks to shoulder you but you let out a scoff, holding him back by his arm and pushing him in front of you again.

“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You just run away from everything!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating hes being.

“If you’re just going to stand there and insult me like a bitch I might as well just go and do something fucking productive.” he spits.

Your cheeks heat up and you think for the first time you understand the phrase of seeing red. Hes been poking and poking and poking with his nonchalance then later smugness then going onto just straight up disrespect—he was really pushing you. So he should’ve expected the hand that goes to strike him against his face—your chest rising up and down, brows furrowed deeply.

A faint red hand print blooms across his cheek, and his jaw falls slack, eyes blown out and wide. You suddenly grab him by the back of his hair, no doubt burning his scalp with the way he lets out a loud hiss. “I fucking hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

You’re so close to his face and everything about the way he’s looking at you gives you the chills. You hate him. You do. He’s insane, he’s selfish, he’s rude, he’s—

A shaky lopsided grin still manages to break from his face, “No you don’t.”

And that was your last straw.

The addictive nature about Beomgyu is what kept you coming back over and over again—he never lead, he just let you…take him. And sometimes, at a point of your life where you feel like everythings being controlled for you, not having the choice to make the decisions you like, this somewhat served as an outlet.

That’s the more…reasonable explanation.

The other explanation is simple. He’s so fucking sexy.

The way he still melts into a kiss so harsh and mean, attempting to cup your cheeks, but immedietely dropping it when he feels your disapporval, his whimpers already picking up, not taking any incentive to breathe as if this kiss was enough to keep him alive; it’s those little things that have you up in the middle of the night thinking about him. Him.

Beomgyu, the stereotypical bad-boy stoner hipster outcast—the antithesis of everything present in your picture perfect life—he keeps you up at night. The mix of weed and his hilariously bad attempt at covering it with febreeze and cologne wafts your scent, it overwhelms you, but you still can’t get enough. Everything annoying about him disappears when he’s touching you.

“Why? Why do you keep doing this?” you say, finally being able to pull away from him—only after you had jerked on his hair harsher.

His lips are swollen, red and glistening—he looks pretty like this. He really does. But those lips always end up saying something to piss you off. “Keep doing what? Letting everyone know how you really are? Not actually the good girl you pretend to be, huh.”

You don’t know if he’s goading you on purpose because he likes it rough, or if he’s just being an asshole in general. It doesn’t matter. If he’s going to act like a brat, he’ll get treated like one.

Your knuckles had turned white with how hard you were gripping his hair so it feels relieving when you finally let it go. He tries to lean in to chase after your lips again, but you have your hands on his chest to stop him.

The flash of panic in his eyes when you step back from him is hilarious, it really is. It tells you everything you need to know. He wants you. He really wants you. He doesn’t care if you hit him or ruin his life, he wants you.

If his next words are any indication. “Hey, hey what are you doing? Where are you going?”

You walk to sit on a step of the stairs. “Do you think I’m a slut? Is that why you thought you had the audacity? Surely because otherwise if you respected me you wouldn’t have spread those rumors about me.”

He huffs out a laugh, the biggest reaction you’ve gotten out of him so far. He also walks to get closer to you. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t even come up with one single reason that would paint me in a better light. You really do see me as a fucking douchebag loser.” He’s clearly getting emotional with the way his voice gets higher pitched, the nonchalant front cracking, his lips slightly trembling.

“Because that’s what you are. Douchebag. Loser. You’re. A. Loser. Choi Beomgyu.”

You can see his fists clench at his sides, tight lipped. If you knew any better, you think he might’ve just started crying, but you’re not interested in tears. You angle your feet to point to the ground, “On your knees.”

He only hesitates for a second, he only stands there staring at you for a second, only a second before he crumbles and does as you say, getting on his knees in front of you, between your legs. “Closer.”

“But-"

“But what?” Your skirts already half way ridden up and you stare him down, keeping your eye contact intense.

“We’re in p-public. Anyone can see.”

You know hes blushing when you see the tips of his ears peek out, bright red. Aw, he’s nervous? Embarrassed? Shy?

“You’re never seeing me after this Choi. Make of it what you can or piss off.”

His eyes widen comically at that. “What? What does that mean? Are you leaving me?”

You can’t decipher or understand why exactly hes so surprised but you shake it off, you don’t want your good time to be spoiled. Not when your underwears’ already sticking to your pussy seeing him on his knees, on the ground, with his ripped baggy jeans, no doubt a pavement burn getting to him. “Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave?”

He shakes his head vehemently, hands on your knees spreading your legs. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. Don’t leave. Gonna make you feel good, promise.”

He’s already rambling like he’s dumbed out, like he’s about to be a goner. But he’s still hesitant in his actions and you groan, throwing your head back. “What the fuck Beomgyu?”

A pout rests on his lips, “I—…I don’t want anyone seeing you..”

You think he’s giving a fuck for your decency, you think its about you for once. But then another thought pops up in your head and your lips twitch. It’s not for you. It’s for him. He doesn’t want any possible pedestrian to see what only him so far has been able to see.

This isn’t worth it.

You make an attempt to get up before Beomgyu immediately has you sit back down, wasting no time to press his face between your legs, skirt over his head. His tongue pokes out to lick on over your panties, gradually wetting it and you sigh, the tenseness of your body evaporating. “Yeah, thats it. Be good for me pup.” He whines at that.

Beomgyu doesn’t tease any longer the moment your hands go to grab his hair because suddenly he bunches your panties to the side and you feel the contact of his hot tongue on your cunt, already lapping away like a dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dumb dumb—but shit he’s having you curl your toes at the speed he’s going, the way he moans against your pussy like hes somehow enjoying eating you out more than you are.

“You’re my toy, nothing else. But you just keep—you keep irritating me, you keep being a dick, you keep provoking me.” you breathe out, tightening your fistful of his hair in your hand, making his moans even louder, nuzzling closer in your pussy you think he might genuinely suffocate at this point. But knowing him, he’d probably like that. “God, you absolute loser.”

He whines something intelligible, wet eyes looking up at you with his brows pulling up—it makes you gasp as you bite down on your bottom lip. He’s so pretty it’s unfair. Why’s such a sinful person so pretty? God must really have the time of his life making this hell for you.

You take it upon yourself to lift yourself a bit, grinding on his face harder, trying to reach your high, obstructing your view of his face—even with the anxiety of doing this so out in the open resting at the pit of your stomach. He’s practically mewling in your pussy, and the sounds send vibrations, his nose bumping up your clit every now and then. He lets you use him, he just lets you.

When Beomgyu fully submits like this to you…you see stars, you come hard. “More…more”, he groans, licking up your arousal. It’s so dirty, it really is, but you can’t help but nod.

Having the skater eat you out till your legs were jelly at a skatepark late at night would surely guarantee your place in hell.

“You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this baby—don’t soil your pants yet, I know how you get. Probably getting off at the fact that we’re out l-like this…h-hah—dirty, dirty boy.”

He shakes his head, the glistening sweat of his forehead and the matted strands on his temple proof of how hard hes really going at it. “Not dirty. Just wan’ your attention..”

The second you tut at him for stopping he immedietely dives back in—you don’t know if it’s more him being afraid of a punishmet or because he himself doesn’t want to stop. Never mind that, because now hes wrapping his pretty lips around your clit and you’re fucking losing your mind with how quick your head clouds.

There are so many things circling your head right now. And this always happens whenever he starts talking during a hook up. Yes, it helps you get to an edge even faster but its for all the wrong reasons. He’d dirty talk for a bit before switching up, and suddenly all of his words are loving and cute and adorable and, and that’s bad. When you see him other than the image he’s curated for himself—that’s when you start feeling the unfamiliar butterflies fluttering.

You don’t like it. He’s not good for you.

“Stop thinking, only focus on me.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his tangled hair, disheveling it even more. Only him.

He makes you orgasm again, and when you catch your breath you gently push his head away, then harder when he can’t seem to stop kissing your inner thighs. He sighs, dropping it, but not without giving you one last puppy plea. You avoid his eyes, pulling your panties up and scoping around the area, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Did you really just let this punk eat you out on a staircase?

You stand up, dusting your ass, taking note of the redness of his knees and the large wet patch in between his crotch when Beomgyu follows, getting up from his knees, wiping his ridiculously wet lips. You tuck a strand behind your ear as you awkwardly stand, thinking over what you’re going to say now.

We’re over, bye.

I’ll go home now, don’t call me.

I hope you know how bad you messed up. Bye.

I’m blocking you on everything so don’t even think of contacting me.

“Don’t leave me.”

…That has you snap out of your reverie.

His voice is low, no doubt vulnerable. This is the worst. This is bad. Shit.

You clear your throat. “Why? Why shouldn’t I? Even if I didn’t want to I’d have to…my dad knows about you now because of the little stunt you pulled and he definitely doesn’t approve of you.” You mumble the last part, crossing your arms and keeping your distance. But that’s not of any use when he steps forward every time you take a step back.

“I’m—” He runs a hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated. And you don’t understand why, does he really operate life thinking there aren’t consequences to his actions? If he didn’t want to stop this so bad why’d he tell people about your relationship when you explicitly told him not to? “We can—we can do it in secret like we did this entire time. He doesn’t have to know.”

You sigh, also frankly frustrated. “Beomgyu! Why can’t you just-"

Suddenly you’re in his embrace, engulfing you so gently and yet the desperation in it couldn’t have been any more tighter. “Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll really do everything you want, I’ll be your toy, your pet, whatever shit you’re into—just don’t leave me."

You really shouldn’t give in. You really, really shouldn’t.

But then he nuzzles into your neck, mumbling with that slight whiny drawl in his tone, “I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Won’t misbehave anymore.”

Of course you give in. Again.

୨୧ note. honestly don’t know where this came from, i was just making up backstory as i was writing. literally only had one thought and one thought only, what if sub!bad boy x dom! good girl? and that was the small attempt made here lol, i love hearing any feedback or even a theory or two concerning the story’s world as i might explore these characters again 🙏

[xiaowhore]

intoxicating.

premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.

somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.

Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.

He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.

Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.

Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.

However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.

At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.

Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.

“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”

So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.

“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”

Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”

You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”

Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”

You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”

“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.

For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”

He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”

“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”

“...No?”

“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”

“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”

“Is it working?”

Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.

“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.

“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”

When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.

“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-

Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.

“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.

“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.

The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”

You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.

“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”

“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”

“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”

Just what on earth did you do last night...?

???