#I might make an actual periodic table

[sunshine-gumdrop]

I was inspired by another post but I wanted to make my own and share. There are 118 "elements". There are supposed to be unique players for each of my "elements".

Color Legend:

Goalies: 🟦 Blue

Captains/Leadership: 🟨 Yellow

Forwards (Centers, Wingers, Power Forwards): 🟩 Green

Defensemen (Both Offensive & Defensive): 🟥 Red

Playoff/Clutch Performers: 🟪 Purple

[togeppys]

the waiting game ;

tsukishima kei x reader

reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.

You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about. 

You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk. 

The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt. 

At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better. 

"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution. 

Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend." 

The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!" 

Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?" 

Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.

"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.

Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said. 

"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates." 

Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity. 

You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return. 

"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter. 

Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store. 

"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air. 

The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red. 

"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment. 

"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks. 

"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path. 

"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused. 

"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him. 

"No." 

That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along. 

"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home. 

"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh. 

"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you. 

"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight." 

"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple." 

"I'm not going out with you." 

"It was worth a shot." 

As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street. 

When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches. 

When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands. 

Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face. 

"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother. 

"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below. 

You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.

"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym. 

"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury. 

"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.

You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match. 

To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals." 

You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you. 

After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.

Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand. 

You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friend’s tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team. 

The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands. 

When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight. 

You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests. 

"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."

"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark. 

"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see." 

"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations. 

"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all." 

"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone." 

"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend." 

"Mhm okay." 

"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?" 

You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym. 

He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach. 

"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you. 

You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion. 

"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you. 

"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard." 

The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time. 

"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly." 

"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?" 

"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made. 

"Nevermind, girlfriend it is." 

Bonus:

A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about. 

"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster. 

"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria." 

Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language. 

A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face. 

"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time." 

[faeiapalette]

Ramble (again 💀)

MY FAV YOUTUBER LAUNCHED A NEW VIDEO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She does otoge-review btw. (And otoge is usually something i can’t care less about cuz i’m not interested in “love” and sentimental stuffs in general 😗. Funny how i’m currently into DL - an otoge; tho, came for the complex psychology of the characters and to see how messed up & broken people are portrayed in fictional world. Teehee.)

Back to the lovely youtuber, first of all the categories in her vids are well-divided (Main theme of the game, the illustrator, soundtracks, the love interests, their V.A.s, main plots of the routes, ect…). I can tell that her research process was not perfunctory at all (plot analysis is detailed and logical, she’s able to point out both mainstream problems and personal problems of the character, how the chemistry between LIs and FL makes senses; in case they don’t, she’ll bring up theories [for example, Stolkholm syndrome] to ��rationalize” the relationship [ahaha, at that point people would already been able to tell that there’s a problem with how the chemistry develops.] She does have her own, subjective opinion, along with her own favourite chara, but she doesn’t make that her entire conclusion about the route or the game [I like.]. Keeps everything objective, logical. Which makes her the perfect critic for me 👍 Till now there’s only two people who can do this. Others are only on “berating” level. [i forgot to mention her senses of humor! The sarcastic tone adds up the flavor. Fuck “nature sounds that will help you sleep” this is the only thing that can make me relax.] She made everyone be interested in the things she talks, just like how i have never been an otoge lover but still be here playing her reviews on loop. I’m looking forward to her next one, tho this might take months… even years.)

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

[aquadios]

JAKE & THE COLLEGE SCENERY : pair sim jaeyun x fem genre college fluff minor angst friend of a friend to lovers warning suggestive ish also not proofread !! wc est. 09k-1k

COLLEGE!JAKE who you met when you chased after the morning bus, your roommate kept snoozing your alarm until you only had five minutes left to get ready, get breakfast and catch the bus—which ultimately left you.

“oh my god! i’m so sorry,” you fell with a big oof, dropping all of your books. however, your gaze wasn’t on the boy you just slammed into the concrete, instead it was on the bus that became smaller and smaller.

COLLEGE!JAKE who simply smiles at you while picking up your books for you. all you could do was mumble sorry after sorry when seeing his bleeding knuckles—he had tried breaking your fall when you ran into him but landed on his knuckles.

“no worries, happens all the time.” you both stand up and you finally get a better view. the boy adorns a bright smile and chocolate brown hair. he’s wearing the universities jacket—you’ve never seen someone look so good in school merch.

COLLEGE!JAKE who you run into yet again during your free period when one of your friend’s calls you over to their table. as you speak to jongseong about the lesson in marketing 101, jake can’t help but smirk at your nervous demeanor.

“this is jake by the way, he’s single.” jongseong wiggles his brows while patting jake’s shoulders. “yeah, i almost broke his hand this morning,” you let out a low chuckle. “sorry again, i was actually gonna look for you to give you this.” it’s a handkerchief you maid back in middle school.

COLLEGE!JAKE who stares at the handkerchief with your initials until his eyes physically burn. he isn’t sure why you had such an impact on his soul; every thought that crossed his mind was about you.

COLLEGE!JAKE who can’t help but search for you at a party after jongseong said you’d be there. he ignores the people at the ping pong table calling his name and the girl’s sitting on the couch calling him over. he’s here for one thing, and it’s you.

COLLEGE!JAKE who finds his feet moving at a faster pace when he sees you hanging around the pool with your group of friends. your laugh echo’s through the crisp air and he thinks it might be his new favorite sound.

“are you sure your friends won’t miss you?” you question when you notice everyone trying to catch his attention. jake shakes his head while he continues to drag you to an empty room with a bottle of wine in his hand. “nah, and even if they did, i’d rather be here with you.” he closes the door behind him, facing you with a look of sincerity. “i don’t think i’ve been able to stop thinking about you since we ran into each other.” jake intertwines you hands with his.

COLLEGE!JAKE who isn’t afraid of showing his feelings. as you both lay in whoever’s bed staring at one another with the tipsiness of the alcohol running through you, you notice his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“i’m surprised jongseong has never mentioned you before,” you lean your head on your shoulder. “likewise.” jake moves a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his thumb roam your warm skin. “if he hadn’t introduced me to you sooner, i think this night would end differently.” “and why’s that?” you inquire when jake begins to lean in. “because i wouldn’t be confident enough to kiss you.” his lips crash down onto yours—enough to knock you onto your back with his lips desperately wanting more.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who waits outside each of your classes to scare you. his hands encircle your waist as he kisses up your neck towards your cheek. his day gets a million times better simply being in your presence.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who begs you to stay in bed longer even after you’ve gone through every single one of your alarms.

“i can’t miss today, i have a presentation jake.” although relishing in his touch, you try to make an escape. keyword: try. “just let jay do it, he’ll find a way to get you a good grade.” jake hides his head deeper into your neck while wrapping all of his limbs around you. his lips leave wet kisses all over your skin knowing you’d give in.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who doesn’t hide his jealousy very well. he knows you’re loyal but who’s he to say that his girlfriend isn’t attractive? jake sulks all day until you baby him, or he’ll be extremely quiet. this day happened to be the latter.

“why are you so quiet?” you frown while turning to look at jake. you were over at sunghoon’s for a movie night, like every other night, just this time sunghoon had invited a friend who was known for having a crush on you. jake shakes his head. “you know you’re always gonna be the one for me.” you whisper in your boyfriend’s ear before turning back to the movie. jake smiles into your hair, and in return, he slides his hands up your shirt drawing circles.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who says things in the heat of the moment but regrets it later on when he’s missing you late at night. you’re on the couch and he’s in the bed hugging your pillow, but your scent washed away days ago. he hates that he drove you to sleep angry, he hates the things he said, and most importantly he hates the lump in his throat.

“baby,” he trails a hand from your sleeping face to your arms. he crawls under the small throw blanket you found in your closet. “i’m sorry,” he frowns deeply and finally lets his tears fall. he curls up against your back, soaking your shirt with his sorrowful tears. you awake to his sniffles and you whip around—worried almost. “i don’t wanna be mad at each other anymore.” that night he seemed to sleep better than any other.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who dances with you in the kitchen late at night to cheer you up after a bad grade or just a bad day. he loves the way you try to hide your giggles at his terrible attempt at tango.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who finds more enjoyment in laying in your bed with a bowl of popcorn and another one of your rom-coms than getting drunk and ending up in someone’s bed.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who gives you annoying nicknames whenever you’re mad at him.

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who won’t give the time of day to any other girl.

“hey, i was wondering if i could get your number?” jake glances around before pointing to himself with a look of confusion, and when she nods, he holds up his phone with the picture of you. “i have a wife and a kid, thanks, but no thanks.” “dude, what kid?” heeseung shoves him while watching embarrassment fill the girl. “my dog!”

BOYFRIEND!JAKE who doesn’t see anyone else but you. for you, his past doesn’t exist because you weren’t in the picture, he started living when you became someone in his life.

“i don’t think i’ll ever love someone the way i love you.” jake runs his hands through your hair while you both gaze at the stars. “i’m glad i ran into that day.”

you are all he’s ever known.

© aquadios | collection

playlist : let me love you by mario, intentions by starfall, moonstruck by 엔하이픈, safety net by ariana grande

[vxsellie]

domestic gf! ellie

summary. random headcannons about living a small, domestic life with ellie as your girlfriend

notes. nothing makes me happier than domesticity so it was only a matter of time before i made smth like this ! also i haven't made any 'headcannon' posts yet so the setup might be ass bc i fr have no idea what im doing ,, to make up for it i made the post super aesthetic & i'm obsessed w it now xx

warnings. some mentions of sex, it's not necessarily smut it's just the act of loving someone intimately & sometimes being super horny !! overall, this is almost pure fluff though i swear ◡̈

𐙚 first and foremost, ellie def prefers a little life over anything huge or extravagant. she'd take a long morning in bed with u over the met gala any day.

𐙚 something about sun rays filing through dusty shudders makes her heart swell.

𐙚 dirty dishes in the sink, wrinkled bed sheets, cluttered countertops, half-finished home decor, crumples papers, miasma from the bathroom trashcan, that one light you both always forget to shut off. she loves it, all of it.

𐙚 but what she loves most about this life of yours is you.

𐙚 waking up in the morning to see your body sprawled across her chest, a stained band tee clinging to you'd body.

𐙚 hearing you hum songs in the shower while she brushes her teeth at the sink.

𐙚 coming up to wrap her arms around your waist while you cook dinner after a long day of irritable coworkers and snobby customers. then, following that, being able to look across the table at you as you complain about your own day, the taste of your burnt cooking on her tongue.

𐙚 going to the grocery store with you early in the morning after waking to find you're out of cereal for breakfast, both of you insisting you'd thought the other agreed to buy it.

𐙚 your lidded eyes squinting as you read the price tag, leaning heavily on the shopping cart. you're both hungry and tired and annoyed, but have no energy to argue, instead opting to ignore your shared frustration and find solace in the other rather than anger.

𐙚 ellie loading the new groceries onto the conveyor belt while you sleepily fumble with your wallet, still smiling and making conversation with the grocer despite everything.

𐙚 then, getting home and being able to eat your newly purchased cereal, your head leaning on her shoulder as you're both curled up on the couch in front of the tv.

𐙚 ellie oftentimes likes to sit at her desk, scribbling little drawings or entries into her journal while you fill your head with your own random hobbies.

𐙚 she drives you crazy when she taps her pencil against the surface of the desk.

𐙚 the two of you have argued over that a few times, actually. you shouting at her for how annoying the repetitive sound is while she tries to explain that she doesn't even realize she's doing it (though, you don't believe that for a second).

𐙚 over time, however, you've learned to just put on your headphones whenever she journals, the habit becoming as natural to you as drumming her pencil is to ellie.

𐙚 whenever either of you are on your period, the other is certain to be synced, both of you hurting and angry and craving random foods you can't remember the names of. that week is either the worst of your lives, spent arguing and fighting and sobbing; or it's the best, spent singing together in the shower and cooking new recipes and laughing together at ellie's unfunny dad jokes.

𐙚 then, following that week, ovulation hits and you're both completely different people.

𐙚 after you just spent days upon days of working through agonizing pain, you're now unable to think of anything aside from ripping the other's clothes off.

𐙚 dinners go uneaten as she eats you out atop the counter instead; rooms go unswept as you pin her against the nearest wall with an animalistic fervor; her drawings go unfinished as she gets distracted by the girl lying naked in your bed, fingers finding other ways to occupy themselves.

𐙚 ellie has seen you in every state.

𐙚 with greasy unkempt hair, unshaved (everywhere), stained clothing you deem to be 'clean enough', dirt under your nails, unbrushed teeth in the morning.

𐙚 but she doesn't care. she'll still run her fingers through your hair, still rub soothing circles into spiky skin, still strip stained clothes off of you just as desperately, still hold your dirtied hands, still kiss you on the mouth without a care in the world.

𐙚 sometimes, ellie will write songs & ask for your opinion on them.

𐙚 of course, you always tell her how good they are and how proud you are of her. but sometimes you mentally cringe at certain lines or wince at a off-key note.

𐙚 but you love her enough to lie to her face with a curt smile.

𐙚 and even more than that, you love seeing her happy and proud of herself. the sight of her toothy grin and twinkling eyes makes it all worth it.

𐙚 plus, eighty percent of the time, her songs are super fucking good and you're stuck by the passion and care she puts into writing them. the gentility in her intricate fabrication of certain notes and pitches makes your heart stutter. the way her entire body work alongside the guitar with such delicacy that you're sure the two have merged into one tangible being.

𐙚 see, ellie is enamored by the simple things you do ⎯ the way you rip a brush through your hair in the mornings, the gentle whistle you do while cooking or cleaning or doing chores, the fact that you seem to be incapable of making the bed in the morning, the way you always leave your shared shampoo uncapped, the pursing of your lips as you try a new recipe you wanted to try & aren't sure whether you like.

𐙚 these are the things she loves most about you. the things that make her excited to live the rest of her life with you, greasy hair and all.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 taglist : @luvsturniolo @zombieegirl

[rueclfer]

smau request- maaaybe tomura trying to convince reader to wake up and hang with him super late bc he’s def a night owl & they end up staying up until sunrise; flirtation & heavy petting etc as we love to see it

i wrote this at 2am my brain is fried but waow loser/slightly more confident shiggy ily+ enjoy this mix of written and smau <3

twilight zone // tomura shigaraki

"oh my fucking god, knock much?" tomura exclaims, spinning around towards you in his swivel chair.

"shut up." you yawn, rubbing your eyes away from the bright PC screen illuminating the room. "like you weren't expecting me or something."

from his desk, tomura watches you click the door behind you and crawl into his bed. you pull the comforter up to your chin and nestle into his mattress as if he was the one that intruded on you in his own bedroom.

"wasn't half-sure if you were even going to come." he murmurs before shutting down his PC, diminishing the only light source in the room.

you feel the bed shift beside you as he stiffly lays down. "might as well light some candles too while you're at it." you tease.

despite how groggy you sounded, tomura could hear you signature smirk in your voice- the one that never failed to irritate the fuck out of him. he hadn't thought this far ahead- wasn't even expecting you to respond to him this late at all. all he could think about was how quick his late-night confidence was dwindling into nothing, making him squirm a bit in his own bed.

"i'd prefer to not have to look at your face." he mutters.

owch.

you don't respond. the exhaustion was ready to take over once your head hit the pillow. you think about the last time you had been in his bed like this.

it was about a month ago when you found yourself too drunk to even form a cohesive sentence. he didn't understand what you were blabbering about, but once he saw your swollen lips, flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, and handle of whiskey under your arm, he just assumed the worst.

you were drunk, touch starved, and desperate, but of course he knew better than to let you sloppily smash your lips into his like you intended two when you stumbled into his doorway. he spent that night half asleep in his gaming chair, periodically reaching over to make sure you were still breathing with his trash can pulled up next to your side of the bed.

once you sobered up the next day, he scolded you. relentlessly. strings of obscenities dripping from his mouth.

from that point on, he made sure to always find a way to keep you two at bay- something that he himself wasn't even sure how to go about. elbow nudges. kicking your feet under the dining room table. laying your legs over his lap on the couch without you asking. pats on shoulder. all to make sure that night never repeated- unsure if he could handle you throwing yourself all over him again.

"are you fucking falling asleep?" you feel a jolt on your shoulder as he shakes you awake. "wake up."

"i'm tired." you whine.

"well stop. i didn't invite you here to sleep in my bed." he huffs.

"the fucks got you up, then?"

"nothing."

you go silent for a moment.

"don't be annoying or else i'll leave." you deadpan.

"don't ask stupid questions then." he returns the attitude. "isn't it obvious? i can't sleep. can't even game right now. i just want to..." he voice falters at the end.

"...hang out with you, i guess."

oh.

your jaw slightly gapes open in surprise, spikes of heat crawling up your neck.

you tightly grip the fabric of the comforter. "well, when you say it like that, it sounds like you actually like me." you chuckle.

"didn't say that. we live together. bothering you is my only option."

"lucky you, i love when you bother me." you scoot closer, noses onto a few inches away from one another. "and even more when i bother you."

"yeah, i know. it's like you can't resist me or something." he pulls the comforter up over his mouth, shyly muffling his words.

"i should be thanking you then, right? thank you so much, tomu, for letting me lay in your bed with you. please. i want you. i need you. it's all i can think about when i'm just across the hall from you. " you roll your eyes.

he scoffs. "wouldn't be the first time you were pathetically begging for me either."

"as if." you spit. "i'd never."

"but you have."

a beat of silence passes. you press your lips together as hotness comes over your body while the events of that night surges back to you.

"you said you'd never bring that up again." you clench your teeth, cringing at the memory of tomura retelling that night's endeavors to you the morning after.

"needed to humble you a bit." he chuckles. "told you it's not a big deal though if you're still embarrassed about it."

"no shit, i'm still embarrassed." you tug the covers up to your nose. "i tried getting at you and you rejected me. i'll never live that down, tomu."

tomura goes quiet for a moment. he must've been thinking. he does that often- retreat back into his head when he isn't sure about what else to say. or maybe he had finally fallen asleep.

you glanced over his shoulder to the analog clock sitting on his desk.

4:27AM.

it was late- or early. maybe these past few sleepless nights had finally caught up to him, hopefully to save you from having to relive an embarrassing moment.

to him, tomura's brain was malfunctioning. crashing. blue screen error.

"uh. wait." he begins, breaking the silence. "reject' isn't the right word. you were drunk. i just did what anyone else would have."

"call it what you want. i just wanted a smooch and you weren't with it. it's whatever, i'm over it, you heartbreaker." you dramatically sigh.

"well, i'll give you one now if it'll get you to shut up."

it was your turn to error and crash now.

"really?" your eyes widen.

tomura's breathing stops. he wasn't sure what gave him the confidence to say that outloud. maybe it was because he couldn't clearly see your face. it was almost like you weren't there- like he was speaking out into the void that made it so easy for those words to slip out.

he didn't mean it. right?

"yeah."

fuck.

"-if you want though." he quips.

please shut the fuck up.

"last month wasn't a rejection. i just didn't want you to only want me when you're drunk, you know."

stop talking.

"but you're sober now and we're talking about it and i just-"

your lips crash into his. it catches you off guard as much as it does to him. despite how much you enjoyed listening to him ramble out his nervousness, you couldn't risk losing another opportunity to kiss him.

your hands crawl up to the side of his neck, rubbing the tender skin below his jaw as you draw him closer to you. the floodgates have opened now. tomura met your lips with the same eagerness.

you were pressed up against one another, legs intertwined, sharing a breath and heartbeats as your hands glided over each other's bodies.

your stomach was twisting with anxiety. how long had you been waiting for this moment? all of those shy glances around the apartment, subtle touches, and hidden affections had clearly not gone unnoticed.

his hand runs from the nape of your neck to your lower back where he slips his hand under your shirt, causing you to pull away in surprise from the sudden contact.

"your hands are freezing, tomu." you gasped. "what the fuck?"

"sorry." he sheepishly mutters against your lips. he keeps his hand against the soft skin of your back, lightly rubbing the area as an apologetic gesture as it warms against your body.

"sorry." you repeat, humiliation starting to creep up your neck as you two settle with the realization of what line you two had just crossed.

a beat of silence passes.

"um. so." he coughs.

"so...yeah." you respond.

it wasn't long before you two started giggling to one another like a couple of children.

"shut up." you laugh, hiding your face into the pillow.

"guess i did say you coukd have anything you want if you came over." he breathlessly chuckles.

"please. shut. up." you squeak out. "i'm going to sleep. it's already like..." you peer over his shoulder. "almost 5:00AM, tomu. good fucking night."

you turn around, letting your back face him. you could die right now. melt into this mattress and into nothing. thank god it was dark and thank god he shared this humiliation with you.

he slings his arm around your waist, bringing himself flushed against your back.

"i'm not tired." he mumbles into the back of your neck, peppering kisses into the soft skin. "stay up with me."

you mentally kick yourself. because you do- not that there was much left of the night to get through, anyways, but because when the night's haze dissipates, you'll be dealt with a bigger issue that you wouldn't be able to pass off as a drunken mistake.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

how bad do you think Harry's abuse was? like, okay we all know he was neglected his entire childhood. Do you think he really didn't know his name until he went to school? That he was forced to help around the house the moment he could walk? He prob also didn't know his birthday at some point :(( I love him so much, i want to throttle the dursleys

I mean, just from his behavior I feel like it was pretty bad. I talked about it a bit before and he's very aware he is being mistreated. Harry literally makes a joke about Vernon beating him:

“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. . . . ‘Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!’ ” “You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like . . .”

(OOTP, 657)

As for the abuse itself:

Dudley and his friends beat him often. As mentioned repeatedly.

He slept in a cupboard under the stairs until the Dursleys thought someone else might notice. Only when they got the Hogwarts letter that mentioned the cupboard did they move Harry to Dudley's second bedroom. (The title of the room itself and where Harry was sleeping show how much of an afterthought he was).

The house had no pictures of him, no belongings, no sign Harry lived there, he only got Dudley's cast-offs.

So, yeah, it's definitely neglectful to an insane degree.

As for the more fanon portrayals of the Dursleys' abuse.

They did starve him as a form of punishment:

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, “Go — cupboard — stay — no meals,” before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

(PS, 23)

And Harry didn't get much food at the Dursleys in general:

This was their encounter with the fact that a full stomach meant good spirits; an empty one, bickering and gloom. Harry was least surprised by this, because he had suffered periods of near starvation at the Dursleys.

(DH, 250)

But he did get to eat with them at the table when he wasn't being punished, seen with Aunt Marge, and when the Dursleys didn't have guests:

Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

(PS, 19)

That being said, Harry seems to be punished at the Dursleys pretty often. (Although, Harry considers sitting with them at the table punishment enough)

So the fanon portrayal of getting locked in the cupboard/his room with no food for who knows how long (or just, not enough food, like in CoS when he shared a canned meal with Hedwig) is actually canon.

He gets physically abused by Dudley, but also by Vernon and Petunia. We saw Petunia try to hit him with a frying pan.

Aunt Petunia knew he hadn’t really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn’t eat again until he’d finished.

(CoS, 17)

The above qoute mentions how he was forced to do chores with the threat of no food until he's done with his chores. So, yes, he was forced to work at the Dursleys. Another quote indicating he had plenty of practice cleaning over at the Dursleys:

“Filch’ll have me there all night,” said Ron heavily. “No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I’m no good at Muggle cleaning.” “I’d swap anytime,” said Harry hollowly. “I’ve had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart’s fan mail . . . he’ll be a nightmare. . . .”

(CoS, 114)

That being said, we see Petunia cooking more often than Harry, and she's also mentioned cleaning on occasion:

At last, at long last, the final evening of Marge’s stay arrived. Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine.

(PoA, 26)

“Right — I’m off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you,” he snarled at Harry. “You stay out of your aunt’s way while she’s cleaning.”

(CoS, 14)

I think he wasn't constantly worked like a house elf the way the fandom sometimes portrays it. He was made to clean often enough but he didn't cook that often. The breakfast in PS is likely more of an exception than the norm as whenever any fancy dinner, like with Marge or the Masons, it's always Petunia cooking it, not Harry. So, I don't think Harry cooked or cleaned for them since he could walk, I mean Petunia is a perfectionist about how her house looks, so she wouldn't let a small child who'd do a subpar work do it.

But he was definitely put to work as either punishment or when the Dursleys wanted him occupied. And considering he mentions "plenty of practice" when he's 12 and he spent the last two years at Hogwarts, he likely started doing chores earlier than that, but old enough to use a mop properly. So, I'd guess he started helping to clean the house around the time he was 6 or 7 years old, and started cooking on occasion only very recently before the books start in all likelihood.

The really shitty thing about all his chores is that Dudley isn't doing anything and it's just Harry. This difference is one Harry was always aware of and considers unfair, because it is incredibly unfair. The fact he is forced to do work and gets punished when the other child in the house doesn't adds to the sense of worthlessness the Dursleys already make Harry feel.

Uncle Vernon in general is pretty violent towards Harry, shown in the first quote in this post and in others:

Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm’s reach of his uncle whenever possible.

(HBP, 45)

I wanted to add the imprisonment in CoS, because the treatment is truly subhuman:

The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on Harry’s window. He himself fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Harry out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock.

(CoS, 28)

They treat him like an actual prisoner. They let him out to the bathroom twice a day! Like WTF! This is so not okay I don't have words.

As for not calling him by his name...

“We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there — or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.

(PS, 19)

They usually refer to Harry simply as "boy" or "the boy", they also use "you" when talking to him or "him" about him, but not his name, except one time in PS when Vernon is faking being nice:

“Er — yes, Harry — about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you’re really getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley’s second bedroom.

(PS, 30)

Considering how Harry mentions they often don't speak to him, but at him or about him, definitely suggests they don't use his name often. Vernon seems very odd about using Harry's name, and we see it isn't something common, but it does happen. I think Harry did always know his name though, I'm sure he asked, and regardless of how awful the Dursleys are, Petunia likely told him his name in the same breath she talked about how his father was a drunkard that got both him and Lily killed.

We also know they don't do anything for Harry's birthday, and Harry doesn't think they remember it:

The lighted dial of Dudley’s watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he’d be eleven in ten minutes’ time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

(PS, 35)

So, it's very plausible the Dursleys never told Harry when his birthday is and that he had to discover it himself somehow.

TL;DR

Harry's abuse at the Dursleys was awful. It included physical abuse from all three Durslesy and periods of starvation.

He was put to chores like cleaning the house, but it wasn't a constant thing where he worked like a house elf. It actually seems Petunia did most of the cooking.

He probably only started cleaning when he was 6 or 7 at the youngest. And cooking is likely a later development.

Harry was allowed to sit at the table and even watch TV on rare occasions but usually didn't get to choose what to watch. It means Harry should be somewhat aware of muggle pop culture at the time.

Harry, in general, wasn't really treated as human. Not having his name used, only talked at, not having his birthday celebrated, not getting pocket money or anything of his own. Not to mention being forced to sleep in the cupboard or on the floor (in the shack on the sea in PS) and getting his food through a cat flap on his bedroom door like an actual prisoner in CoS.

So, while fanon portrayals make the Dursleys worse than they actually are, they are plenty awful on their own. Believe me, if I could throttle them, I would.

[moonsaver]

i like the idea of sunday being this prim and proper church boy, absolutely gentlemanly so well put together. but the moment he meets the 'right person' he just turns into this high maintenance clingy princess........

HAHHA i kept thinking ab this ask randomly. It just kept popping up into my head from time to time.

I imagine in the start, maybe he's just getting a crush on you, or he's trying to drop hints – he's veeery gentlemanly. Opens the door for you, pulls out the chair for you, occasionally gifts you flowers, compliments you fairly well, etc etc..

And then in the relationship, he starts becoming a little bit clingy. It starts out faint at first – taking a few extra minutes to just hold onto you, kiss your face, occasionally hugging you from behind and holding on before you ask him to let go.

And then it gets worse.

Well, as "worse" as it can get actually. He's unfortunately quite adorable with it.

He sulks when you have to get up and out of bed, leaving him behind, when you leave to go to the bathroom. He'll be subtle, but he'll be sure you see it – turning his back to you, curling up into himself as if it's the cold winter and he hath no shelter until you coo and pamper him.

Only likes being touched by you – so for the most part he wants you to help him comb through his hair and wings. Only wants you to massage it and (gently) scratch them from time to time. It becomes a sort of habit or routine for you two – early mornings where he sits all propped up at the dressing table, waiting for you to gently comb through his bed hair and compliment the softness of it. Acts so shocked when you refuse, as if he hasn't heard it right. He'll continue doing his own hair, but you'll constantly, periodically hear from the other side of the room, or from the corners of the house – his sighs and the sad, victorian boy look in his eyes until you feel guilty.

He doesn't like eating desserts if you don't eat with him. He insists and even pesters you to occasionally text him random stuff during the day so he can talk to you. Acts passive aggressive when you comment on how pretty someone else's halo is. He'll sometimes sigh wearily and "accidentally" ponder out loud just when will his significant other finally pay attention to him?

You have to spoil him rotten with kisses and affection, and promise to go out on dates with him after, just to get him to stop being so melodramatic. Not to mention you have to big spoon him. And even then, he'll grumble into the crook of your neck until you pamper him a bit more.

Granted, he won't overdo it. But a few people, like Robin and your family, might know just how clingy he is. A simple "I can't come, sorry" from you is enough for them to understand that it's Sunday who's been (subtly) whining and sulking for your attention, and wounds up making you cancel some of your plans. Maybe you do enjoy staying in with him, maybe you don't. Either way, it's not bad. He does spoil you in return too – paying for all your show subscriptions, ordering whatever you want to eat, big spooning you whenever you want. There's many other ways he can pay you back, too.

--

[toxycodone]

ship. Laios Touden x Reader

content. nsfw + gender neutral reader + period sex + bloodplay/kink

You and Laios have a pretty decent sex life. It’s a lot smoother than most couples. Laios is surprisingly into trying new things. The two of you share your kinks pretty openly. (Which is pretty necessary, considering that Laios is such an avid fan of roleplay…but that’s another story).

You two are in bed, kissing and messing around a little. This is common, you two gently feeling each other up. It doesn’t always go farther than this—most of the time it’s just you showing some affection—but it takes a little turn when Laios’s fingers start to trail under your night shorts.

Your breath catches in your throat, but not in a usual positive sense. You stop Laios in his tracks by grabbing his wrist.

“Hey, stop.” He abides. Before he can look at you puppy dog eyes and fall over himself apologizing, you speak. “I’m on my period. Didn’t want you to accidentally stick your fingers in blood.”

You expect his face to twist in discomfort, for Laios to do his usual dorky laugh to offset the awkwardness and for him to cuddle you to sleep. However…he gets that look. The one where his expression doesn’t really change, and you can see the cogs start to turn in his mind. He can’t be…?

“Are you in the mood?” He asks. He’s avoiding what’s really on his mind by testing how you feel. You just go along with it instead of pressing for now.

“To be honest, yeah.” You shrug. “But I don’t need to do anything.” “Well…” Laios looks away from you before spouting his biology facts. “Y’know, an orgasm releases endorphins. Dopamine. Oxytocin. The good chemicals, happy ones.” His fingers dip under your waistband again now. He doesn’t seem thwarted by the fact you’re on your cycle. “If you want…I don’t mind. Y’know, I can... Help you. Make you feel good, and—“

“Just say what’s on your mind Laios.”

He takes a breath, then sighs it out. Laios’s cheeks flush pink as he speaks.

"I still want to have sex with you. Even though you're on your period, I'm curious. I wanna try it."

"Are you sure?' You ask. He might be a bit swayed by different forms of media. So you want to ensure he knows what he's getting into. "It's messy. And it smells. And you're gonna get blood all over yourself if you do."

He nods, but his interest hasn't been quelled. He's oddly into this. Really into this.

"You just really want to know what it tastes like, huh?"

Cue his cute little blush.

Laios scrambles to get a towel when you give him the go ahead. Of course he wants to experience this, but he knows he can't just hop on into it. He wants to make sure you're comfortable and into it as well before he starts exploring.

Laios is EXTREMELY into period sex. You're so warm, so wet without him even trying. Sex this way is one of his favorite things to do. And it helps that each orgasm he gives you makes your cramps and other symptoms much less severe.

He really leans into the more primal side of it. Some things still linger from his time as a monster, and one of those is his affinity for blood. The sight and smell of it drives him wild. He'll start to growl and fuck you more roughly, digging his fingernails into your skin while he pounds into you. (Also...since the risk of pregnancy is low on your period...he's finishing balls deep inside. He cant resist the urge.)

And his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck when he finishes. The taste of your blood is addictive to him...you bring out a more monstrous side of Laios that's gotten buried deep within his psyche.

Your blood acts like an aphrodisiac to him. His senses are much more sensitive. You smell weak--like prey--and he wants to take advantage of you. He'll make sure he has his fill of all you have to offer and then some.

And speaking of tasting your blood...period head is always on the table. That coppery taste others may refuse is one he finds delicious (blame his appetite and newfound monstrous palette).

It's actually a sight to behold. Laios's mouth stained with blood as he's buried between your thighs. He'll look up at yours, eyes dark with lust, before gripping the meat of your thigh and pulling you flush against him again so he can consume you with fervor.

And Laios is SO ridiculously shameless about it too. After you've spent yourself on his face, he'll rest his chin on your stomach and wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand--only to lick the blood smears off his pale skin. It's so obvious he enjoys eating you.

[venerawrites]

summary: You and Sasuke have been caught in a toxic cycle of love and hate for as long as you can remember. Yet when you try to break free, he finds himself unable to let you go. (14k words)

warning(s): 18+ content (minors DO NOT INTERACT!), toxic! fem reader, toxic!Sasuke (a bit ooc as well?), mentions of cheating, love-hate relationship, p in v, oral (f! receiving), oral (m! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex

author's note: that was supposed to be a a short nsfw fic, yet somehow it became... this. Anyway, I am actually really proud of this one, so I really hope you enjoy! Shoutout to the anon who had send me their thoughts on toxic reader x toxic character , your message was main inspo for this one <3

Sasuke Uchiha has made many mistakes in his life. Fact.

The biggest one, however, had to be you.

From the moment he met you during one of his travels after the war, he could feel it deep inside his chest - a growing feeling of irritation, one that he has not felt since his early genin days. He has seen women like you before - ones that rely heavily on their beauty to get what they want. One coy smile or a seductive glance was enough to tilt the odds in your favour in every situation and - God! - did Sasuke hate it. How was it fair that someone like you could always achieve anything they put their mind to with such an ease, while others had to spend years in hard work while patiently waiting for their moment to shine?

But it wasn't just your looks that captivated people. Your wit, sharper and faster than his sword, had to be your biggest weapon - and you wielded it masterfully, he had to admit. You spared no man or a woman, as you let charming lies and sugarcoated compliments tease the egos of those around you, quickly turning them in nothing more than powerless puppets in your hands.

What angered him the most, however, is how aware you were of your power. You used it unapologetically, without even a single ounce of guilt or shame, as if it was your birthright to make everyone else around you bow to your will. So when he found himself in your bed just a few days after your first meeting, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust while his fingers squeezed your throat so hard, you could swear you were seeing stars, he convinced himself that you deserve no mercy.

No, far from it!

Women like you deserved to be reminded of their place. And Sasuke was determined to be the one to do it.

He kept reminding you over and over again for the short period he was visiting your village - in your bedroom; in the shower; on the table of the Council of your village; on the training grounds under the moonlight; in the secluded corners of the leader's (who was also your pathetic lover) building where no one dared to wander. He had made it his mission you understood - no matter how cunning your schemes were, you would never have the upper hand over him.

Being a good and changed man now, Sasuke knew he couldn't just let you drift through life relying on lies and using people. So he did what he thought was the best way to deal with a menace like you...

he married you.

It his mind, it was perfectly logical solution. If you were going to wreak havoc across the nations, Sasuke figured he might as well be the one to keep you in check. He had witnessed first-hand how many fools have fallen to your sweet deceptions and he knew that if there was one man who can handle you, it was him.

In addition, you were also the perfect tool to get his many 'fangirls' and Naruto off his back. He knew that as the last surviving member of his clan there was certain pressure for him to settle down, but he didn't expect that everyone would ‘demand’ it from him so soon after the war. He still had to atone to his sins, piece together the shattered fragments of his identity and find his place in this broken world. A relationship - let alone a wife and kids - was the last thing on his mind.

Yet it seemed that everywhere he went, the whispers of the 'last eligible Uchiha bachelor' were faster - by the time he entered a village, he was eagerly welcomed by elders who would parade young women before him, as if they were animals for sale.

It was sickening, really. And no matter how bluntly he expressed he is not interested, the people just didn't take the hint.

So if he could kill two rabbits with only one shot, then…

"We are getting married," he informed you on his last night at your village, while getting dressed. It was not a proposal, or even a question - just a simple, straightforward declaration.

He didn't even spare a glance in your direction as he adjusted his clothes, almost as if he didn't pump you full of his seed multiple times through the night. Unlike any other man you've met (and fucked) before, he was always eager to leave after you two were done. He never held you close or whispered sweet nothings into your ear - no, he hated you too much to put all that effort for a single fuck.

"I don't usually go for men with missing limbs," you snickered with that signature infuriating smirk on your face that drove Sasuke wild, "But I guess the good sex and your last name are worth for me to make an exception."

Sasuke only grunted in response, before leaving you alone in your bedroom. How did you manage to get under his skin so effortlessly, he'd never understand.

He was no fool, he knew that if it was any other man - even that short, fat loser who was your village leader (and lover) - you would've turned him down straight away. But he had something he knew you wanted badly and that was the name Uchiha. You were a smart woman and had calculated all the privileges - the power, the influence, the fame - that a union like that could give you. He knew you were not really interested in him, at least not in the way other women were.

You never fawned over him or actively sought his attention. Instead you were treating him with a level of indifference, gracing him your full attentiveness only when you were intimate. And even then you liked to show your bratty side, refusing to submit and leaving him with no other option than manhandling you till you admit surrender. But you never made it easy, that's for sure.

When he brought you back to Konoha, officially as his wife, everyone thought he had lost the last bit of sanity in his head for good.

"This has to be joke..." Sakura muttered as she watched you walk next to Sasuke into the Uchiha compound, the clan symbol proudly decorating the back of your kimono. She didn't want to sound jealous or envious, but you just looked so... not his type. She had always envisioned him with a strong woman - ninja, for sure - who could balance his cold and distant nature by providing him with all the love and warmth he has been deprived for all these years.

But you? You looked nothing like that. Sure, you were pretty, but you were a civilian who couldn't relate to the shinobi's lifestyle. How Sasuke chose you, a foreigner nonetheless, from all of the available women in Konoha was beyond her comprehension.

"I don't think it is, Sakura-chan," Naruto replied from his spot next to her, his eyes unable to move away from the way you swayed your hips while walking next to his best friend. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't look at someone else's woman like that, but how could he control himself? He knew he was too weak to resist you the moment Sasuke introduced you to him and Sakura, and your eyes lingered just a second longer on his, before you turned away, a small smirk grazing your lips.

To say that you had quickly became the favourite woman of every person in the village would be an understatement. All of the men, even geniuses like Neji and Shikamaru, seemed to fall under your spell without much effort. Your confidence, combined with your sharp mind and beauty, seemed to draw in everyone like flies to honey much to Sasuke's dismay. Of course, he expected from you to continue to try playing your little games even after bringing you back to the Leaf, but he thought better of his old teammates.

And it wasn't just the men in the village, either. Even the reluctant women who initially questioned your motivations, like Sakura and Ino, soon found themselves drawn to your company, seduced by the idea of not having to shy away from their femininity around you. All their life they have been taught that they have to train and work hard to be considered as something even close to a man's equal - yet, here you were, without any skills or fighting abilities, managing to wrap every single man around your finger and make them inferior to yourself. You were strong in a way that they hadn't considered before - through your confidence, charm, and most importantly, intelligence.

Sasuke was feeling torn by the whole thing. On one hand, he felt like he had failed in his goal to tame you and keep you in control. A year after he made you his wife, he found himself not only unsuccessful, but completely outsmarted and outplayed by you.

On the other hand, for less than half a decade, you managed to achieve what he thought he may not achieve in his whole lifetime. Not only you had carried his twin boys - a result of him bullying all his frustration and annoyance he held toward you into your tight little pussy every chance he got - but you somehow managed to restore the reputation of the Uchiha clan all by yourself. What was once a name connected only to criminals and bloodshed, was now associated with respect, political influence, and a sense of honor. You had restored the pride that Sasuke thought he never may regain again, let alone be given by someone like you.

When you asked him for a divorce one peaceful night during dinner, he thought he has heard you wrong. His mismatched eyes narrowed, as he studied your calm expression. After six years of using his name to climb to the village's higher circles and giving him sons to continue the legacy of the Uchiha clan, you suddenly wanted to leave?

"I think we had this dance for long enough, don't you, husband?"

Your marriage was far from perfect or even socially acceptable, you both knew that. From the very beginning, it was built on mutual benefits rather than love. Sasuke never grew to be a loving husband, at least in the traditional sense of the word, and neither you learned how to play the role of the typical 'caring wife' at home. Yet, after six years together, you somehow managed to fall into a twisted cycle of love desperation and need for each other.

It wasn't the type of relationship that inspired poetry or flowery fairytales. It was raw, obsessive, and painful. There was darkness in both of you, one which you greedily embraced, feeding off each other's flaws, insecurities and unhappiness. Your fights were loud and destructive, as venomous words were aimed at each other's weakest spots. He never missed a chance to remind you of how unlovable you were - a shiny and pretty empty shell that men saw for its beauty, not for its substance. You never held back in holding his past sins over his head, bringing even his own brother as an argument when you found yourself cornered.

"Kinslayer playing house," you would hiss, the edge of your lips turning slightly upward as you notice his eyes darkening, "I wonder what your dear brother would think if he saw you right now."

Furniture would break, plates would fly, and just like every time, you would find yourselves in your shared bed, tangled in the passion and chaos on which you both thrived.

It was toxic, but it was also consuming. Neither of you knew how to break free from these chains, and neither of you really wanted to. It was addicting, it was broken and it was yours.

Till it suddenly wasn't.

When you brought up the divorce, he knew you have calculated the whole thing - the twins were in the room next door and you never fought when your kids were around. If there was one genuine thing that came out from this marriage, it was your two boys Isao and Jiro. They were born a year after you wed and for better or worse, were a perfect mix of both of your personalities.

Isao was the older son - a confident and focused kid, who despite his young age, has already shown impressive skills with ninjutsu and taijutsu. He always looked up to his father, seeking his approval as he pushed himself harder and harder every day. In a lot of ways, he reminded Sasuke of himself - his black eyes were full of determination, as he refused to settle for anything but being the best in everything he did. Yet, unlike his gloomy younger self, Isao possessed a level of charisma that he surely inherited from you.

Everyone loved Isao - and he knew how to use it to his advantage to get what he wanted, even from you.

Jiro on the other hand, preferred to stay in the background and observe, rather than to be in the centre of the attention. He had Sasuke's calm and reserved nature and unlike his brother, he didn't seek anyone's approval or attention. Quite the opposite - he preferred to hold back his true strength, patiently waiting and strategizing for the right moment to unleash it.

"I'm not letting you take my kids away from me," Sasuke promised you that night, his eyes boring into yours as he sat at the other end of the table.

His voice was cold and firm, so different from his usual venomous hiss he uses during arguments with you. But in his mind this wasn't an argument - it was just one of your many silly tantrums, a move inspired by nothing else than the desire to get under his skin.

"I am their mother and their place is with me," you stated seriously without even a hint of the usual mockery which could always be heard when you were speaking to your husband, "You can still see them during weekends - if you are in Konoha and not chasing shadows of threats across the villages, that's it."

Sasuke's jaw tightened, as he slammed his glass down louder than necessary. You didn't even flinch, as you held his gaze which was slowly becoming darker.

"What are you getting at?"

"You know very well I am getting at," you scoffed, the calm and collected composure finally cracking under the heaviness of all unspoken feelings you carried inside your chest, "When was the last time you spend more than a few days with your kids? You're constantly on the road, doing God knows what, while I am left here-"

"Stop bringing the children into this!" he snapped, interrupting you mid-sentence. His voice was low but with a note of irritation, proving to you that he was holding back for the sake of your children next door. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your teeth gritting together while you pressed your back against the chair. There may have been a fire of defiance burning inside of you, but even you knew when to draw the line, especially when he used that voice.

"This is about you, isn't it?" he clicked his tongue, his head shaking from side to side, "About your greediness and unsatisfiable need to suck the life out of everyone around you, before you move on to your next victim. What, did you already exhaust all the benefits you got from carrying the last name Uchiha?"

The room suddenly grew colder, as you stared at each other, his words still lingering in the tense air between you. He was never one to shy from the opportunity to hit you where he knew it hurt the most and in typical Sasuke's style, it was not his final blow either.

"You talk about my failures as a father all the time, but what kind of mother uses her own sons as pawns in her silly power game?"

Your breath hitched in your throat and before you can even think about it, you grabbed the dinner knife on your right and hurled it in his direction, aiming for his head. He dodged it effortlessly, his eyes narrowing as he saw you reaching for your fork next.

"If you are trying to get my head, dear wife," he said almost mockingly, catching the next flaying utensil with his hand before slamming it down on the table next to him, "Have the decency not to do it while the children are next door."

Gripping the edge of the table to stop yourself from throwing your plate next, all you could see in front of your eyes was red. Blinding, raging red, which was threatening to consume you whole.

God, you hated him! You hated him, you despised him and if it was up to you, he would burn in hell for at least a few eternities!

"You are the last person who gets to lecture me on decency," you chuckled dryly, before reaching for your wine glass and swallowing a large gulp, "Did you also talk to your brother about it when he slaughtered your whole family? Or when you killed him?"

Sasuke's expression immediately hardened and his hand clenched into a fist. He has met many infuriating women in his lifetime, but you... you were a monster! A beautiful nightmare that had her claws deep into his soul, chewing and digging into his very core.

"I've told you not to bring up Itachi-"

"Or what?" you leaned forward, one elegant brow raising as you placed your chin on top of your crossed fingers, "What will you do, Sasuke? Divorce me?"

It was clear you were pushing his limits, Sasuke knew you well enough by now to see through your attempts to rile him up. Despite his realisation, however, it was too late - you had already buried your stinger under his skin, poking at his past wounds that never closed. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath while trying to control his nerves.

"I am not giving you a divorce," he said finally, his tone cold, "So stop throwing your tantrum and find other ways to pass your free time, which you seem to have in excess. Perhaps finding a job will do you good."

Sasuke got up from his seat, pushing his plate to the side before exiting the dinner room without casting even a single glance in your direction. You pressed your lips together as you watched him leave, the door closing with a quiet thud behind him. There was a brief silence, before you heard Isao and Jiro's laughter from their room at the end of the corridor. With a sigh, you got up and you started to clear the table.

. . .

Whatever you wanted, you got. Sasuke had seen you going great lengths to achieve what you wanted. Yet, he didn't think you would actually go this far.

As a Shadow Hokage, he was used to spending months away from home, investigating threats made toward Konoha and if necessary, taking all the measures to get rid of them before they can become actual problems. Most of them were coming from rebel groups in neighbouring countries, who were trying to stir another armed conflict between the nations, but sometimes there were unexpected surprises.

One of these surprises was the letter he received one sunny morning by Koyuki, the leader of the Land of Snow. She had warned Konoha about rumours of unnamed groups, who were actively recruiting members to start a new cult against the Land of Fire. Their motivation seemed unclear, but she had provided enough evidence to give both Naruto and Sasuke a reason to worry.

Leaving the same day, he spend three months travelling across the small country, interviewing civilians, chasing trials and collecting evidence before he found out that his whole thing was orchestrated by no one else other than his own wife.

It wasn't the first time he had found himself tangled in one of your schemes. You had not only the influence, but also the connections long before you became an Uchiha. After you got his last name they only intensified and a single word from you was enough to set a whole series of events and tangle dozen of innocent people in them.

The letter from Koyuki should've been the first sign something was going on. After all, he knew that you two did know each other and that she often described herself as "girl's girl", whatever that nonsense meant. And then all the evidence that kept pointing to no one in particular, before he finally realised this was all one carefully crafted deception.

There was no cult, there were no threats and there was certainly no one in the whole country that even cared about Land of Fire, let alone bother to threaten it.

At first, he couldn't understand what was your motivation. Were you doing it to spite him? To make him look like a fool? Obviously you didn't think about about the potential damage on the alliance between the two countries, and even if you did, you simply didn't care.

"I am sorry it came to this," Koyuki said as she was bidding him farewell at the village's gates, "It’s nothing personal. It’s just a favor to an old friend."

A favor.

The word ringed in his mind the whole way back home and Sasuke didn't completely connect the dots till he came back home, only to find the compound empty, a signed divorce pack laying on the table. He didn't waste even a second in flipping through the pages, his jaw tightening as he realised that not only he was your ex-husband now, but that you planned this whole thing to keep him long enough so you can convince the Hokage to sign your request to end your marriage in his absence.

"She said you both have reached an agreement and that you specifically gave your permission for her to deal with all the legal stuff, since you know... you were away for a while," Naruto said carefully once the Uchiha confronted him, his brows furrowing in confusion, "Is there something wrong?"

Sasuke had never pulled the curtain behind your marriage before, the image of your family always being perfectly polished picture of the ideal union in front of the society - a noble warrior with a beautiful influential wife, and two talented sons, both already known as the most promising young ninjas at the Academy. To the world, you and him were the epitome of love and success.

Only the two of you knew the truth and he was determined to keep it that way.

"Nothing wrong other than the fact that the Hokage allowed himself to sign papers affecting my life in my absence," Sasuke said coldly, before laying the report of his mission on the blonde's desk, "Me and Mrs. Uchiha have agreed to hold off any final decision until I returned. You shouldn't have dissolved our marriage."

Naruto's expression faltered for a moment, before his gaze hardened at the sound of his friend’s accusation. He wasn't seeing how he was the bad guy in the whole situation, when you were the one who sought his approval of your divorce petition.

"Sasuke," the Hokage said slowly, his voice suddenly sounding more serious than usual, "I was told by Mrs. Uchiha herself that it was a mutual decision and that it was already settled."

"Are you blaming my wife for your failure to follow the proper administrative procedures?" Sasuke snapped, his eyes narrowing at the man before him. If there is one thing he had learned from you, it was how to always turn the tables in his favour.

"She was alone for months and was probably worried sick if her husband will come back at all," he continued, conveniently missing the fact that it was all you who created this whole situation in the first place, "She was acting under the influence of her distress and worry. You, on the other hand, should've known better."

Naruto sighed, before rubbing one of his hands up and down his face. What was exactly going on between you and Sasuke, he would never understand.

From the outside, you two appeared to have everything one couple could wish for - stable family (or not so much now that your divorce was finalized), money, influence, respect. People looked at you and used you as an example of what they wanted to achieve in the future.

For a long time, Naruto also believed that perfectly crafted image, and deep inside, even resented his friend for building such a life. Of course, he loved Hinata with all his heart, but he couldn't lie and say that the intensity of his job hasn't affected their relationship. There were days when he couldn't even see the eyes of his kids, let alone talk to them or train with them. His wife has always remained patient and understanding, but his guilt had already become a constant in his mind.

And then there was Sasuke.

He was often missing for months on end, yet still managed to return to a happy family back home. His kids were cheerful and obedient, excelling in their training and seemingly never resenting their father's prolonged absences. Meanwhile, you - the beautiful and intelligent civilian wife - held the household together, while single-handedly cleared the Uchiha name of whatever bloodshed had tarnished it in the past.

It was yours and Sasuke's world and everyone else was just living in it.

Yet, the more he interacted with either of you, the more he could see how different and toxic you were for each other. He had no doubt you held some type of love for each other, but it was far from the gentle and nurturing kind he and Hinata had. Yours was raw, obsessive, sometimes even cruel.

He had seen the subtle cracks in your act before. Sasuke, with his silent obsession to control you, monitoring every single step you made. Who were you talking to, what were you wearing, when did you eat, how often have you left the house - he knew everything, even when he was miles away. He has abused his position before by having shinobi watching over you, reporting every detail of your daily life to him. Naruto knew about it, but at the time he was just excusing it as Sasuke being overprotective.

The longer it continued, however, the more distant you became. Sasuke had slowly cut off your ties with everyone he deemed an unnecessary connection - including many of his old friends - reducing everyone close to you to mere acquittances.

Yet, you remained defiant. There was a challenge in everything you did - from the way you liked to oppose him in public to the way you bribed the shinobi around your house so they would spare your ex-spouse some of the details of your daily life. You liked getting under his skin and, unlike many other women would, seemed to enjoy playing with his possessiveness. Sometimes your gaze would linger just a second longer on other men, while gracing them with a flirty joke or a seductive smile, before you turn toward Sasuke to check his reaction.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Naruto, his voice laced with frustration as he stared at his old friend. He already messed up by taking your word for the divorce agreement and signing the documents in Sasuke's absence, he wasn't sure he wanted to involve himself even more in whatever game you two were playing.

"You already did enough," the Uchiha scoffed, turning away and starting to walk toward the door, "Just keep your nose out of my and my wife's business. I will take care of this mess."

. . .

During the months following the divorce, Sasuke was more of a husband to you than he has been for the whole six years you were married.

It was ironic, really. After years of him devoting himself completely to the village, he had now taken "indefinite break" because he wanted to "spend time with his family". The first time you heard this rumour you scoffed, unable to believe that Sasuke would actually let go of his relentless pursuit of redemption, let alone because of his ex-wife and kids. However, you were proven wrong the moment Isao and Jiro came back from the Academy one day, all happy and smiling because "Dad said we are moving back home".

You have been underestimating him, it seemed. You always knew Sasuke Uchiha was a man who was persistent in chasing his goals, yet you always seen his idea of honour and moral as weaknesses - flaws that held him back, instead of push him forward. Not that you lacked any, of course, but your approach has always been a bit more... flexible. You weren't afraid to bend a few moral principles if it meant gaining the upper hand.

But your ex-husband was a completely different man from the one you had married six years ago. And for the first time since you met, it was him that was always one step ahead of you.

It started with the children first. Isao and Jiro have always looked up to their father, eager to prove themselves as worthy Uchiha in his eyes. Deep down, however, they were momma's boys. Maybe because Sasuke was absent so frequently and for so long, or maybe because it was just a natural bond, the one between a mother and her sons.

With Sasuke stepping back from his shinobi duties, however, the balance had shifted. He started to be the one to take them to school and pick them up in the afternoon; he spend at least a few hours every afternoon training each one; he took them on day trips across the Land of Fire on weekends. Suddenly he was not just an absent figure of admiration in their life - instead, he was an active father, a hero, a mentor.

Then, he used that newly created bond to pull you back to your old home. At first, it was one day per week "for the boys' sake". Then it was every weekend, because "the kids deserved some sense of normality". Soon, your "new normal" was to spend almost every night back in the Uchiha compound, the casual dinners stretching into overnight stays. It wasn't till Isao and Jiro informed you that Sasuke has told them you three are moving back "home" that you realized how quickly and effectively he managed to push himself back into your life.

He had finally cracked the key to make you submit - while you were quick to dismiss and say 'no' to him, you were powerless when it was your children pleading with you.

"Ironic how you were the one accusing me of using my own sons as pawns once, yet here you are, doing exactly that," you muttered one evening, while cutting vegetables for dinner. While Sasuke was decent enough to provide you with your own house in the compound, between the boys constantly asking for family dinners and your ex-husband orchestrating late night activities for them to bond, you spend the majority of your time in the main house.

Sasuke, who was seated at the kitchen table, looked up from the scroll he was reading, his dark eyes boring into the back of your head.

"Isao and Jiro deserve to have a normal family," he said calmly, ignoring the loud snort that left your lips after he said those words. You casted a side glance at him, one of your brows raising in mock disbelief.

When you didn't receive an answer, you decided that maybe, just maybe, you needed to take it a little bit further.

"I am not going to be here for dinner tonight."

No answer.

"I have a date."

Sasuke's hand stilled and he lowered the scroll once again, his eyes closing. He knew your games by now, he knew it was not beyond you to use other males' attention as a tool to test his patience, yet he couldn't help but feel his stomach twist at the idea of you going out with another man.

"With who?" he asked after a minute of silence, making you smirk to yourself. Ah, there it was - the little crack in his stoic armor that you have been searching for! No matter how much he liked to pretend he hates you or doesn't care about you, the good old trick of bringing a another man into the conversation always worked.

"Oh, you don't know him," you replied casually, sliding the chopped vegetables into the pot and make a few stirs with the wooden spoon, "He is not a shinobi. A kind man, attentive and gentle... with two arms. Everything you are not, really."

A loud scoff left his lips and you turned around to face him, the wooden spoon dangling from your left hand. Sasuke looked at you with furrowed brows, his hand slowly starting to roll the scroll back.

"Doesn't seem you type," he observed, his head finally lifting in your direction. He didn't look half as bothered as you expected, yet you noticed the faintest flicker of annoyance bubbling right under the surface.

You needed to push just a liiiittlleeeee bit more.

"Oh, he is exactly my type!" you grinned at your ex-husband, before crossing your arms in front of your chest, "Still wondering how did I get so lucky!"

Surprisingly your words seemed to humor him and he let out a dry chuckle, while standing up from his seat. You watched him come closer, and you could feel your breath hitching as you saw his hand reaching toward your face.

But right when you thought he was about to cup your cheek, he reached to the small bowl on the shelf behind you and grabbed an apple.

"I think the real question is how did he get so unlucky," he smirked at you before taking a bite.

The AUDACITY of this man!

"Glad to know your sense of humour is just as nonexistent as it was before," you rolled your eyes at him, before turning around to stir your soup. Despite your attempt to pretend his closeness did not affect you, he could notice the small blush on the tip of your ears and the sudden stiffness in your shoulders.

"I am not joking," he calmly chewed his apple, his eyes trained on the side of your face, "He must be quite the loser to go after a woman who is still living with her husband and kids."

You grimaced at his words, your head turning to the side as you challenged him with a glare. If looks could kill, he would've been long gone by now.

"Ex-husband", you corrected him, your jaw clenching as you caught the slightest twitch of his lips upward, "I know you were too busy to attend the divorce hearing with the Hokage, but-"

"I was not busy!" he suddenly interrupted you, his expression becoming serious, "I was away because you orchestrated a whole false cult, which put our alliance with the Land of Snow at risk, just so you can keep me away for long enough to lie to Naruto and get him to sign your petition."

There was a brief silence during which you narrowed your eyes at him, before you shrugged your shoulders.

"I told you I want a divorce."

"And I told you, I am not going to give you one."

His words made you pause, the spoon still held tight by your right hand while you were clutching your apron with your left. You gave a few more stirs to your soup, before setting the utensil down and turning fully toward him.

"I always get what I want," you smiled sweetly, before reaching for his face. Just like you did before, he seemed to freeze for a few seconds, completely thrown off by your gesture. Just when he thought your fingers may brush against his skin, you snatched the apple from his hands, a victorious smirk on your face.

"I thought you knew that by now."

. . .

It wasn't everyday that a man had the chance to take out a beautiful woman out for a dinner, and such an occasion deserved special preparation.

When your date came to pick you up, he made sure to wear his nicest clothes, put his most expensive cologne and buy the biggest bouquet at the flower shop. He lifted his hand against the massive wooden door, nervously checking that he was right on time, before knocking a few times. The door creaked open, but the view that met him on the other side was not one he expected.

"Uh... hi!" he stammered, his cheeks becoming a light shade of pink as the dark-haired man before him stared at him blankly. A few minutes of silence passed, during which Sasuke looked him up and down, before he raised a dark brow.

"Are you lost?" your ex-husband asked impatiently. So far the only true characteristic from your description earlier is the fact the man had two arms. But handsome? Pffttt.

The man blinked rapidly before clearing his throat a bit. Of course, he found it strange that you told him to pick you up from the Uchiha compound, as you were not with Sasuke anymore, but he assumed you got the house during the divorce proceeding. He didn’t think you lived together.

"No, no! I am here to pick up-"

"My wife?" Sasuke interrupted, his expression bored. He had to bite back a smirk as he looked at your date chuckling nervously, before scratching the back of his head. It was as clear as day that you did all this to get him jealous, but honestly you could do so much better than this idiot.

"Your ex-wife" the man furrowed his brows, mentally praying to all deities he could think of, that you did not in fact get back together with the Uchiha. Not that he blamed you - if he was a woman, he wouldn't let go of him in the first place. You had not told him much about your marriage or why you separated, but it was clear that whatever dynamic you had going on was way more complicated than he first thought. He had heard rumours in town that Sasuke still referred to you as Mrs. Uchiha and while you pretended you have not noticed, the Uchiha crest was still proudly decorating the back of all of your kimonos.

Sasuke let his lips curve in a small smirk, as he leaned against the doorframe.

"You got the wrong door," he finally said, nodding his head toward the rest of the compound, where a numerous small houses were standing, separated by tight dark alleys, "Mrs. Uchiha lives further down in the compound."

"Oh?", your date exclaimed, his face twisted in something between confusion and reluctance, "Well, I am sorry to bother you then-"

"Follow me," Sasuke suddenly said, completely ignoring what the other man was about to say, before stepping out of the house and walking down the stairs. Your date hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between your ex-husband and the now closed door, before reluctantly decided to follow.

"I am sorry if this is awkward-"

"Loose your tie a bit, you look like you are going to choke," Sasuke interrupted once again, his eyes trained on the dark path in front of him as he didn't even glance in the other male's direction, "And uncuff your trousers! It is ridiculous for a man your age to come to pick up a woman like my wife wearing socks with printed ducks on them."

Your date flushed red, as he hurried to loose his tie and fix the bottom of his pants, while Sasuke continued to walk toward the house where you were supposedly staying. For a moment your admirer wondered if this was not just one big ploy by your husband... ex-husband to get him alone and get rid of him. As he saw the shadow of your figure passing by one of the windows in the distance, however, he relaxed.

It was all fine. It was all going to be fine-

"Wait here," Sasuke instructed as they both reached the door, before reaching for the handle. Before the man can even open his mouth to reply, Sasuke slipped inside and shut the door right under his nose.

As you heard the door opening and closing, you came downstairs to the living room, where your ex-husband was standing with his hand on his waist. His eyes widened just the tiniest bit as they landed on your descending figure, his gaze slowly running from your hair, lifted in a straight high ponytail, to your chest where a gold metallic corset was pushing your breasts forward, showing just enough skin to wake up the imagination. The white fabric of your dress fell down in gentle folds, the high slits that run up each leg, offering a glimpse of your smooth skin with each step that you took.

Ethereal. Powerful. His.

If Sasuke had to describe with only a few words, it would be exactly these.

"Can I help you?" your voice brought Sasuke back to reality and he cleared his throat, his face immediately falling into its usual stoic expression. You smirked as you noticed the apple of his cheeks becoming a slight shade of red, the idea of still having that effect on him after years tickling your sensitive ego.

"Your date is here," he said blankly, his jaw clenching as he tried hard not to let his eyes wander down once again. Damn you, damn you, damn you! When did you even got that dress? Sasuke was pretty sure he knew each piece of clothing in your wardrobe and yet he has never seen this one. There was no doubt in his mind that you didn't do all this for the awkward loser outside, you did this for him.

"Alright," you hummed, leaning your head to the side as you fixed one of your earrings, "And why are you here? You could've just send him down, you didn't have to play the role of a tour guide."

And of course your big mouth just had to shatter whatever fantasy was swirling in Sasuke's head as he was still staring at you. He rolled his eyes, a quiet scoff escaping his lips.

"If I didn't show him where you are, he would've been doing circles around the compound all night," he gave you a funny look, as he lifted a brow, "Really? You said he is the "whole package" - kind, smart, handsome, ... so far the only true thing turned out to be that he indeed have all his limbs."

You clicked your tongue as you moved toward the large mirror in the corner of the living room, completely ignoring your ex-husband who watched each one of yours steps like a predator ready to pounce on his prey any second now.

"Oh, don't be so harsh!" you glanced over your shoulder so you can give him a small smirk, "He can be polished here and there, but he still has his charm."

He let out a small chuckle, as he started to make slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

"He came to pick you up wearing socks with ducks..."

You lifted a brow, your mischievous gaze meeting Sasuke's through the reflection of the mirror.

"Oh? I didn't know that they did socks with your face on them, let alone that he is a fan."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed at your childish jab, before his features twisted in amusement. Since you saw that one childhood photo with Team 7 years ago, you just couldn't let his old hairstyle go. While he usually would scoff or roll his eyes at your antics, now he held your gaze firmly as he closed the remaining distance between you, his chest pressing against your upper back.

"You have always been one hell of a woman...," he muttered, his breath tickling the back of your neck. Your breathing increased slightly as you watched him lean over your shoulder, the playful tension that was filling the room till now quickly turning into something else.

"Do you think he can handle you?" Sasuke continued, the side of his face pressing against yours as he continued to stare right into your soul. His hand made its way toward your waist, harshly pulling you back against him till you could feel the print of his hardness right against your bottom. You let out a short gasp, instinctively leaning back against him.

"Do you think he can keep up with your little games? To match your fire, your temper..."

His hand moved lower, the tips of his rough fingers grazing the bit of visible skin there causing another shaky breath to leave your lips. It was embarrassing, how wet and bothered he managed to get you just with a single stare and a few words. The lacy underwear you have been wearing was already soaked, sticking to your puffy lips as you tried to rub your thighs together before Sasuke dug his fingers in your skin, stilling you in place.

"You're so dirty," he laughs quietly, his chapped lips grazing the tip of your ear, before landing a small kiss right behind it, "Was that your plan all along? To bring a naive fool to our home, so I can fuck some brains into you? Remind you that you belong to me?"

The blissful state your mind was in was shattered to pieces as he reminded you about your date. Shit, he was right in front of the door! As if he somehow read your mind, just second later there was an urgent knock on the door.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

Your eyes widened and you tried to push your ex-husband's hand away from you, which made him only grip you tighter. His hips buckled against you and you bit your lip, holding back a groan.

"Tell him you are going to be a minute," Sasuke instructed against your ear, his lips slowly kissing their way down to your shoulder, "Don't send him away... yet."

There was a hint of darkness in his tone and this was your first sign that you should do anything but what he is telling you. As his hand slipped through the slit of your dress and between you thighs, however, you couldn't even form a single thought in your brain, let alone follow it.

"I will be a.. ah!... minute," you called out, your voice shaking as you felt your ex-husband dragging his fingers against your laced pussy, collecting the juices that were now freely flowing through the thin material, "I am just about to be... ready."

Sasuke couldn't help but smile triumphally not only at the fact that you did exactly what he told you, but that no matter how much you said you hated him and how many stunts you pulled against him, you could still crumble in his hand with him barely doing anything.

He grazed your soaked pussy, avoiding the bundle of nerves that you desperately tried to get him to touch by wriggling your hips left and right. It was laughable, really - you always talked back to him, you always liked to oppose... yet in moments like now, there was nothing but pathetic whimpers leaving your lips.

"Sasuke," you groaned in a hushed town, earing nothing but a low chuckle from your ex-husband. The pads of his ring and middle finger circled your entrance, his smirk becoming bigger as he could feel your soaked panties basically clutching to your lips now.

"What is it, my wife?" he dragged the last word down, his mouth latching against the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. Your head fell back against his shoulder, both of your hands now gripping his muscular forearm as he finally pushed your panties to the side. As he reached for your clit, gently rolling the little pearl against his thumb and forefinger, you let out a loud moan, unable to hold back anymore. Your knees buckled and you pressed your ass and back firmly against him, seeking any type of steadiness before you fall to the floor.

"What do you want, hm?" Sasuke muttered, his eyes moving back to the mirror so he could observe your fucked out expression - eyes shut tightly; glossy lips open in the prettiest 'o' shape; red colours spreading from your cheeks all down your neck... Fuck, you were a handful, but for this sight he was ready to take anything you threw his way - from insults to your poor attempts to make him jealous.

"Sasuke, you know what I want," you whined again, your head rolling against his shoulder till you found yourself face to face with him, "Just give it to me."

In any other situation he would've made you wait longer - after all you had been giving him nothing but headaches in the past few months. But as he looked down at you, his pretty wife, who was practically asking him to take her once again, to reclaim her as fully his... How could he say 'no'?

Spreading your glistering puffy lips apart, he collected some of your arousal, before roughly burying two fingers inside. You immediately fall forward, your hands gripping the sides of the mirror, as Sasuke immediately start pumping his digits in a rough pace. It's not hurtful - you are so wet, you are pretty sure you could even take his dick without any preparation - yet he couldn't mask the slight smugness he felt once he felt how tight you were. A clear sign you haven’t been with another man since him.

“Ah-Sas-..Sasuke!” you panted as his fingers brushed that one spongy spot inside of you that was making you see stars. The room was filled with your gasps and the slick sound of his hand rhythmically moving in and out of you, so loud that Sasuke was sure that the poor fool outside was hearing just as clearly.

As he felt the slight shiver of your thighs he roughly pulled his fingers out, before landing a loud slap on your quivering pussy. You gasped, your eyes immediately opening wide so you can glare at your ex-husband.

"Arrogant prick!" you thought as turned to face him but before you could say the words out loud, he wrapped his hand around your forearm before roughly pulling you toward the door.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, your eyes widening as your stumbled after him. You expected the jealousy, but making you open the door in the dishevelled state you were in was just cruel. Sasuke didn't answer, but just as you thought he would open the door and force you to face your poor date, he turned you around and slammed your back against it.

"Hello? Is everything okay in there?" your date's voice sounded and Sasuke couldn't help but roll his eyes. There is no way that idiot did not hear your whimpers of pleasure and especially the sound of your drenched pussy sucking your ex-husband's fingers in an out, why was he still here? He was either deaf or really, really ignorant.

Either way, Sasuke was determined to show him who you belong to. Or even better, he was determined to make you show him.

"Everything is fine... I will be a minute," you called out, your eyes focused on the mismatched ones of your lover - fuck, ex-lover.

Damn you, Sasuke Uchiha!

Deep down whatever consciousness you had left was quietly whispering that you should feel bad. That you actually genuinely liked the man on the other side of the door and, for once, you wanted to experience love. Real one, gentle... like the ones of all the other couples you keep seeing on the streets. Without the fighting, without the hatred, without the constant pain and hurt.

Yet as you stared at Sasuke, you felt yourself being consumed once again by the fire that has always burned between you. It was maddening and reckless to go back into the same cycle, the one that felt more like a battle rather than war.

"You are unbelievable!" you groaned quietly, your teeth gritting against each other, "Why can't you just let go? I don't want you anymore! I want something normal, something that doesn't hurt all the time!"

Sasuke's expression darkened and he narrowed his eyes while studying you. He remained silent for a minute and you thought that he may finally back off, but instead he stepped even closer, trapping you between his muscular chest and the door. His hand moved to cradle your jaw, while his head leaned forward.

"You can keep repeating the same lie over and over," he muttered, his lips barely brushing against yours, "But you know that is not who you are. It's not who we are."

A small sigh left past your lips and Sasuke used it as sign to close the little distance between you. You and him have been intimate thousands of times before, but your shared kisses can be counted on the fingers of your one hand. Maybe because kisses were usually saved for lovers, the one that shared the sweet and kind type of love, rather than the raw and brutal one you had between you. Or maybe they have always been too intimate, a confession that neither of you were ready to make till now.

Unlike other times this kiss was not just a peck or a battle of dominance. It was slow and deep, an act which was supposed to show everything that both of you couldn't put into words. As he licked your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to welcome his tongue in it - an opportunity which he eagerly took, pressing you harder against the door with his body. His hand roamed between your waist and your thighs, before he reached for your chest, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing roughly.

"Ah, Sasuke!" you gasped your head falling back, as his lips moved down your neck, softly sucking and biting the sensitive skin there. While there was a certain roughness to his moves, he was still way gentler than usual, making you rub your thighs together in a weak attempt to get some friction. He must've saw that because a second later, he roughly pushed his own leg between yours, preventing you from getting any type of relief.

You opened your eyes just enough to send him a glare but closed them once again as you felt his fingers swiftly untying the top of your corset, before pulling your breasts out and pinching your left nipple. Sasuke could barely hold back a smirk, as you watched your back arch forward, seeking even closer contact with him.

As he moved down your body, placing damp kiss down your collarbone, chest and side of your breast, his hand found it's way under your dress once again. He started to draw small circles on your swollen clit, as his lips wrapped around your other nipple and before you could sink your teeth in your lip, you made the loudest, most pornographic moan both Sasuke and your date have ever heard.

A few moves were enough for your legs to start trembling once again, the knot from your previous denied orgasm forming once again at the pit of your stomach. You opened your eyelids as you looked down at Sasuke, who was still kissing, sucking and biting your breasts, leaving his marks all over the soft skin.

"Sasuke...," you mumbled, your hips buckling as he slipped two of his fingers inside, his thumb increasing its pace on your clit. Suddenly everything felt overwhelming - the image of your ex-husband in front of you, the sound of your date who was now eagerly knocking on the door behind you, mumbling something about how all the Uchihas can go to hell, the light above you which was suddenly shining brighter the closer you were getting to the edge.

"Come for me," Sasuke muttered against the plush skin of your boob, the harsh bite that followed enough to make the knot inside of you snap. Your fingers pulled his black locks earing a small hiss from him, finally freeing your chest from his lips.

He held you close to him as you slowly came back to your senses, your body limp in his arms. The knocking on the door behind you had stopped long ago, the memory of your date swearing and throwing the flowers he had brought against the window next to you now echoing at the back of your mind. Before you had the time to think about him, however, your ex-husband fell to his knees, his hand lifting one of your legs on his shoulder as he lifted your dress above your hips.

Sasuke had felt the lacy material under his fingers earlier, but as he was now looking at the type of underwear you had chosen to go out on a date with another man, he felt the earlier jealousy coming back to his chest. White lacy panties, which were now drenched with both your arousal and the juices from your release, with a white bow on the front... really?

"Were you planning to let him fuck you?", he asked annoyed, his forehead creasing as he glanced up at you. A bright red colour covered your cheeks, but you turned to the side, refusing to answer.

Were you? Sure, maybe the thought had crossed your mind and maybe this is exactly why you choose these panties. But deep down, you knew that even if you went on that date and let him bring you back to his house, you would've probably backed out in the last minute.

No one can handle you the way Sasuke can.

"Answer!" Sasuke snapped impatiently, his fingers pinching your swollen and oversensitive clit through your panties. You quickly shook your head, your hands burying themselves in his silky hair once again so you can pull his head away just enough to see his eyes.

"Of course not!" you said and Sasuke rolled his eyes, half-expecting for you to deny the truth anyway. If he wasn't face to face to your drenched cunt, the aroma of your juices fogging his mind with only one thought - that he needed to have you - he would've probably told you off. But even if he was one of the most powerful men on the planet, he was still just a man - and with this ethereal sight in front of hem, he could do no more than remain on his knees and worship you the way you deserved to be worshiped.

With one harsh move, your panties pooled down your ankles while your ex-husband buried his head between your legs. Sasuke always prided himself to be a man of self-control and discipline, yet the moment he got to taste you, he forgot any of that.

Heavy puffs of air mixed with loud moans, as he latched his slightly chapped lips on your clit, sucking harshly before lightly flicking the tip of his tongue against it. Your hands harshly gripped his hair, making an attempt to push him away from your oversensitive folds, which were met with a rough slap against the inside of your thight.

"Hold still, brat," he mumbled as his tongue buried itself inside of you, his nose rubbing against your shiny pearl. You wanted to snap at him, tell him he knows how much you hate when he calls you that, but your body could do nothing else than to buckle against his face, your eyelids shutting down so tightly, bursts of rainbow colours infiltrated your closed vision.

He could feel your walls tightening around his tongue, more of your sweet nectar flowing from your pussy as he hungrily drank everything you gave him. Sasuke was rarely so desperate and open, completely giving up control as he made a mess out of both of you.

"Sasuke, please-," you tried to beg, an usual softness filling your voice as you sought mercy from him. And while his pants were getting uncomfortably tight, he wanted to teach you a lesson, to show you that you are his and his only. You deserved no mercy.

Not after all your little stunts recently.

Sasuke could feel his tip leaking pre-cum just from all the sweet sounds you made, encouraging him to only start lapping at your puffy lips faster and faster, his fingers digging themselves into your soft thigh as you tried to pull away and push yourself closer at the same time.

"One more," he whispered into your pussy, his lips and chin dripping with your arousal, "I know you can give me one more."

You whimpered in response, your head falling back as he pulled a second orgasm out of you, slurping all of your juices without pulling away even for a second to breathe.

His erratic movements soon turned into sloppy licks as he cleaned you up, his tongue catching every single drop of your release. You twitched in his grasp, weakly pushing him away, the feeling of his mouth too much for your oversensitive pussy right now.

Sasuke slowly lowered your leg from his shoulder back on the ground, his arm tightly gripping the side of your hip as he tried to stabilize your quivering form.

"You came only twice and you are already shaking like a leaf," he noted with a smirk, before standing up back to his feet. Blinking a few times, you tried to ground yourself back to reality, before your arms found their way around his neck, leaning your full weight against him.

"Gosh, just shut up!" you mumbled, not wanting to break out from your euphoric state just to deal with the annoying ramblings of your ex-husband. He clicked his tongue, his hand moving to your lower back and pressing you flush against him.

For the first time in all the years you have known each other, you stood in each other's embrace without the weight of anger, hate or pride threatening to crush you. There was no shouting, no flying objects, no painful insults - just you, holding each other and silently admitting that neither of you wanted normal.

You craved chaos. You craved the intensity, the frustration, the pain, the longing.

You craved him.

Pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes searches his mismatched ones for something - anger, hesitation, adoration, anything. You wanted... you didn't even know what you wanted either. Maybe some clarity, maybe a sign that it doesn't always have to be this messy, this hurtful and this complicated.

All you were met with was the same dark gaze that he always had when he laid his eyes on you. It was never loving or soft, not in the way that he was looking at your children, for example. With you they were always holding a storm of emotions behind them, one which you could never fully decipher.

Desire? Regret? Irritation? Admiration? Pride? Hate?

They were all there, clashing and mixing in such a way that you were never sure if he was looking at you like you were his biggest regret in life or like he couldn't bear the thought of you being anywhere else but by his side.

Hesitantly, you lifted yourself on your toes and pressed your lips against him. It was a gentle peck, unlike your kiss earlier. Sasuke stiffened for a moment, his eyes widening at the unexpected softness from you. Was this another one of your games? But before he could think more about it, you grabbed his hand and started to pull him back into the house and up the stairs to your bedroom.

Sasuke followed you almost instinctively, a certain cautiousness to his steps. He watched you open the door, before you gently pushed him in till the back of his knees hit the bed and he reluctantly sat down. His eyes twitched as you stood before his open legs, expertly undoing the rest of your corset before throwing it to the side. Your hands then slowly pushed the straps of your dress down, allowing it to fall down at your ankles, leaving you completely bare in front of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply as he watched you climb up his lap. Despite his hostility, however, he didn't push you away. Instead his eyes bore into yours, studying you and trying to understand the underlying motive of your actions.

You were never this... soft. Not with him, anyway. Your sex life was a mirror of your relationship - urgent, rough, fast. You never made love - you fucked. It often felt like a battle of dominance, rather than a union between your bodies.

Now, however, you were taking your time. Your forehead gently pressed against his, as your hand started to slowly unbutton his shirt, before sliding it down his muscular shoulders. You have seen his body countless of times before, but this time it felt different. There was no other light other than the bright moonlight coming through the window, as you dragged your fingers across the numerous healed scars across his skin. It was such a stark contrast - the softness of your hands, ones that never even held a weapon, against the roughness of his body, one built for battles and war.

His breath hitched as he felt one of your hands slide down the shoulder of his missing arm and he involuntarily twitched away, almost as if he was trying to hide it away from you. His reaction was not surprising - he always tried to hide the imperfect parts of himself, his Rinnegan and his missing arm, either by using the solace of the darkness or by having you in such positions that your back would be facing his naked form.

In this moment there was nowhere to hide. And Sasuke wasn't sure he liked that.

"Don't," he said, his voice rough, "I swear, if this is one of your games-"

Another unexpected peck on his lips interrupted his train of thoughts as you continued your exploration of his body. It was weird not only for him, but also for you - he never let you in like that, not when he was completely exposed and vulnerable. It felt like you explored him for the first time, and in a way, you actually were. No walls, no layers of hate and tension between you.

"Shh...," you whispered, your breath ghosting across his skin, "I am not going to hurt you."

Sasuke wanted to scoff at your words. There was no reality or place in time where the two of you didn't hurt each other. Neither of you knew how to stop. Pain was part of who you were and as twisted as it was, it was at the core of your love for each other.

His muscles tensed as your hands slid down his abs and started to work on the strings of his pants. His hand instinctively shot out to catch your wrist, stopping your mid-way of unzipping his pants, as his breathing became heavier. He locked his eyes on you, searching for a sign, any sign that you were just playing him - either a small smirk or a mischievous spark in your eyes - yet there were none.

The look in your eyes was one of a lover, not an enemy.

Loosening his grip on your wrist, he watched you as you pulled his zipper down before he lifted his hips so you can slide down his pants. Your lips found their way to his neck, pressing soft kisses against his warm skin as you slowly trained downward. He let out a shaky breath as he felt you kissing his scars, spending extra time on the ones on his chest and abdomen before you slid down on your knees in front of him.

In the past, you have always refused to pleasure him orally. "It's something that only lovers do", you would say with a frown, drawing a clear boundaries of what you were willing to do in the bedroom. Sasuke never pushed for it, either - one thing about him is that no matter how dominant or controlling he was, he respected your wishes. As someone who wasn't particularly needy or with a high libido, he didn't care that much.

But as he watched you grab his rock hard cock in your hand, slowly rubbing your thumb across the tip and smearing the leaking pre-cum, he wondered if he actually didn't care or if he just never knew what he was missing. The sigh before him - his beautiful, defiant wife sitting on her knees and slowly pumping his dick, while placing soft kisses across his thighs - was one that has only appeared once or twice in his dreams before.

Your pace was slow, almost painful as you moved closer and closer to where he was needing you the most, your eyes shifting toward his face every few seconds in order to catch each one of his reactions. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed loudly, a pink colour covering his pale cheeks and neck. His eyes bore into yours, a barely addible moan leaving his lips once you finally wrap your lips around his pink mushroom tip.

Digging one of your hands in his thigh, you take more of him, slowly moving your head back and forth while coating his dick in a mix of your spit and his pre-cum. Sasuke groans once he feels him reaching the back of your throat and his hand instinctively goes to your head, gripping your ponytail as he tried to ground himself and not cum right then and there.

If there was heaven, this had to be it. And maybe he was there, because in what world would his ex-wife suck him off on an evening she was supposed to be out with someone else? You looked up at him through your lashes as you hollowed your cheeks, a new wave of pleasure washing over your body as you saw him closing his eyes.

"Fuck...," he breathed out, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on the top of his forehead, "My wife... just like that.."

His words only seemed to encourage you and you hummed around him, the vibrations making him buck his hips involuntarily. As you started to move faster, his grip on your hair tightened and your hand trailed down back between your legs where your pussy was clenching around nothing.

You pulled away slightly, twirling your tongue over his slit before sliding it down all the way down to his balls. You laid a few small kisses on each one, before taking his left one in your mouth and sucking harshly, earning yourself a sharp gasp from him. It was almost intoxicating, having so much power over a man, who had spend years trying to make you submit to him.

As you took his cock in your mouth again, you put even more effort in trying to bring him closer to the edge. Burying your face against his h pelvis, you flattened your tongue as you felt his head brushing at the back of your throat. Shiny tears started to roll down your cheeks and you gagged around his fat length, the need to pull away to take a breath burning your lungs, yet you didn't stop.

"Ah.. I'm.. close...," he breathed out and you could see his chest starting to move rapidly up and down, as his hold on your head tightened. Once you started to feel him pulsating, however, you pulled out with a loud 'pop', grinning once he gives you a nasty glare.

"What the actual fuck?" he snaps, his brain still foggy with the need to cum, "Are you serious?"

You only roll your eyes in response to your ex-husband's dramatic reaction, before you stood up and made your way back on top of him Resting your hands on his chest, you pushed him down till he was laying flat on his back and you hovered your dripping cunt over his pulsating cock.

Whatever other complaint he was ready to give quickly died in his throat as the moonlight exposed your full beauty in front of him - makeup smeared across your cheeks, fat tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes, pussy glistering in the juices of your own arousal. It was a messy sight - filthy, even - and a perfect representation of your love for each other.

"I need you inside of me," you gasp, your thighs trembling as you brush your swollen clit against his tip, "I need to -ah! I need to feel you!"

You didn't wait for a response as you grabbed his cock and the base and aligned it with your entrance, before slowly sinking in. Your eyes remained locked on his and almost in unison, a loud moan left both of your lips.

"Fuck..," you whimpered, your walls involuntarily tightening around Sasuke's dick as you adjusted to his length. His mouth and fingers could make you see stars, but nothing could even remotely compare to the feeling of having him inside of you. It felt like you were made for each other, his thickness stretching you out just enough for the pain to be pleasurable.

As you started to slowly move up and down, Sasuke gripped the side of your waist helping your keep a steady rhythm. His teeth sank in his bottom lip as his moved down and focused to where the two of you connected.

You let out a loud yelp when he suddenly landed a heavy slap on one of your plush ass cheeks, digging his fingers into its softness. He could feel your juices leaking all over his thighs, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming louder as your moves become faster.

"Good girl," he muttered, his feet planting firmly on the bed so he can start thrusting up. He did try to entertain the idea of giving you control at least for one night, he really did, but fuck - how could he, when you looked so divine above him?

The new angle allowed for his cock to hit straight into that one sensitive spot inside you and you suddenly lost balance, collapsing on top of his chest as his hand moved toward the back of your head, keeping you down so he can hit that same spot over and over again.

"Sas-ah!" you whined, your nails digging into his hard chest, leaving angry red marks after themselves. Sasuke could only smirk, his heavy breath tickling the side of your face as he picked up the pace.

"What's wrong?" he teased, his hand yanking your head back by your hear so he can inspect your face, "Did you get tired already?"

Opening your eyes, you let out a few tears fall freely down your cheeks as you glared down at him. The mix of pleasure and pain was clouding your mind and you could do nothing but moan helplessly as he roughly fucked you, completely disregarding the sensual and gentle tone you tried to settle earlier.

As you started clenching around him, the first sign that you were approaching yet another orgasm, Sasuke swiftly turned you around, laying you under him as he hovered over you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, yet not entering fully.

"Sasuke," you whined, trying to move yourself down so he can fill the burning emptiness inside of you, "C'mon, don't stop now!"

Sasuke only smirked at your words before grabbing his cock, sliding it up and down your pussy lips, before flicking your aching clit with his head. You let out a small moan, the oversensitivity causing your cunt to clench around nothing.

"Beg for it."

No amount of pleasure could cloud your mind enough for such words to slip by without your eyes immediately widening. Was he serious? As you watched him looking at you with that small annoying smile on his lips, you tried your best to avoid the aching need between your legs as you snorted loudly in response.

"I rather die needy and unsatisfied," you huffed, your brows furrowing as a small crease appeared in the middle of your sweaty forehead, "Than to beg my douchebag ex-husband to fuck me."

Your words seemed to humour him as he pushed the tip in, earning a small gasp from you before withdrawing again, his hand slowly pumping his cock as he watched you wriggling beneath him.

"What happened to "I am not going to hurt you"?" he tilted his head to the side, "I thought that included insults and your usual low blows as well."

You rolled your eyes, frustration mixing with annoyance as he continued to stroke himself in front of you, completely ignoring the fact you were dripping with need to be touched by him.

"Since when you are such a rambler?" you snapped, a loud huff escaping your lips as you started to lift yourself on your elbows, "If I knew you would waste my night like this, I would've just spend it with my date inste-"

Your sentence was cut off short as he suddenly wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing you back into the pillow as he entered you with one move. He was not gentle or careful - his dick slid all the way in, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he dug his nails into your neck.

"Shut up!" he hissed, as his pace increased even more from before. Your legs dangled weakly around his hips, as you shut your eyes, the all familiar knot starting to form inside of your stomach once again. His pace was brutal, almost animalistic, as the headboard of the bed was hitting against the wall with a rhythmic thump! thump! thump!.

"You always have to open your big mouth, don't you?" he panted, his abs clenching as he adjusted his hips forward, practically folding your body under his weight, "I'm sick of your little games, I'm sick of your attitude... fuck, I'm so sick of you!"

Instead of taking insult, your jaw dopped in a silent scream as your back arched in pleasure. You could feel your orgasm coming closer and closer, as Sasuke was squishing your under his body, his pelvis rubbing against your pulsating clit. You could feel his pace becoming more erratic as he chased his own pleasure, his fingers still tightly wrapped around your throat.

"You are going to marry me again," he panted against your mouth as he pressed his forehead against yours, "And this time I won't let you go... Ever. Again."

Just like the first "proposal", this was more of a declaration rather than a question. And just like the last time you found yourself unable to defy him, as his words combined with the way you could feel each inch of him rubbing against your tight walls, was enough to send you over the edge.

A loud moan escaped your lips as your pussy leaked cum around his cock, forming a white circle at the base. His hips stuttered as he felt you clamp around him, ropes of thick cum filling your tight pussy till it started to overflow with his seed. He thrusted once, twice, making sure he had emptied fully inside of you before he collapsed on top of you, his face burying where your shoulder and neck meet.

You let out a sigh, your hands instinctively wrapping around him as you ran your fingers through his black hair. Slowly, his breath became steadier and his heart rate slower as both of you let the reality of what you just did settle. His last words rang in your head, as your eyes remained focused on the ceiling above you.

"It would never end, would it?" you whispered in a hushed tone, almost as if you were hesitant to break the silence between you two. Sasuke stilled, his head moving to the side so he can give you a questioning glance.

"This cycle that we are in... This constant push and pull, the hurt, the twisted love that we have for each other. "

You could feel his body tense at your last words, as he let them sink. Slowly, his hand let go of your throat, before he gently brushed a few hairs away from your sweaty forehead. His gaze softened as he adjusted his position so he can study your face, his eyes trailing down the messy streaks of makeup down your cheeks.

"No," he finally murmured, his voice quieter than usual, "Maybe it's not meant to end. Maybe that's just who we are."

"What? Broken?", you laughed dryly, turning your head to the side so your eyes meet. Sasuke's expression remained blank, as his hand moved down so he can take yours in his. He didn't answer but the way his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened were enough of confirmation. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but this is exactly who you were - two broken people who never learned to give or receive anything else other than raw and painful love.

"I do love you," he suddenly said, breaking the short silence that has settled between you, "But I only know one way to."

His confession hung between you as an open wound that both of you tried to cover for too long, causing a mix of relief and heartache to swirl inside your chest. His fingers brushed against your ring finger, where your wedding band once was, and you closed your eyes, silently accepting that no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were always pulled back.

Letting go of his hair, you reached toward the bedside cabinet before you pulled first drawer open, and you got a small velvet box out. Inside, your polished wedding band shined brightly, reflecting the moonlight as you pulled it out and slid it back on your finger. Sasuke's eyes carefully followed your movements, before he took your hand in his once again, his head falling against your chest as he inhaled your scent.

You had made many mistakes in your life. Ironically, the biggest one was not him.

Instead, it was the illusion that you could escape from him, or from what you had. You couldn't. And the truth is, deep inside, you didn't want to.

cc artwork: pinterest <3

[rafeandonlyrafe]

hormonal hunch

words: 800

warnings: pregnancy, fluff, established relationship

rafe isn't sure what to do at first. he thought you were sleeping, so he was extra quiet when walking around the room, undressing from the day and changing into pajamas, which were actually just basketball shorts and an old tee.

he was about to climb into bed when he noticed that although your face was pressed into the pillow, your shoulders were shaking slightly, soft noises coming from you.

“baby?” rafe asks softly.

you don't respond, but he hears your sniffles, clearly trying to quiet yourself and calm down.

“oh, baby.” rafe says softly, climbing quickly into bed and wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. “what's wrong?”

“i-i don't know.” you sob louder, not trying to keep it private anymore.

“you don't know? what happened? did someone do something?” rafe can feel his heartbeat getting quicker, waiting to find out what he needs to do to make you happy again, to get that smile that he loves so much back on your face.

“i just-” you turn over and rafes heart breaks, your eyes red and tears falling down your cheeks. “i just started crying and i feel so bad and i don't know.”

“that's okay.” rafe says, pulling you into his chest. “sometimes you just need to cry.”

“you never just need to cry!” you argue back. 

“yes i do, baby.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head. “i just don't let you see it because i need to be strong for you.”

“oh, that just makes me wanna cry more!” you whine, tears falling harder.

“okay, okay, shh.” rafe begins to rock back and forth, letting you cry and leave tear marks and snot on his shirt until you eventually slow down and stop, breathing returning to normal.

“baby?” rafe whispers, thinking you might be asleep, but you pick your head up, a sheepish look on your face.

“i-im sorry.” you quickly wipe your face. “i just um… i just um couldn't stop crying.”

“it happens, okay?” rafe tugs you back in close, needing to feel you against him, still needing to cradle you in his arms. “as long as nothing happened…”

“no, no.” you shake your head. “just been feeling weird lately. probably hormones or something.”

“yeah… hormones.”

rafe minds reels and as the days go by, he keeps a close eye on you, even more than normal. 

he monitors everything from your mood swings, which have suddenly increased, to everything you eat, including weird concoctions he's never seen you put together before.

“can i… can i talk to you honey?” rafe asks one night.

“mhm.” you nod, sitting down on the bed, figuring you can finish your skincare and the last step in your nighttime routine after whatever rafe has to say.

“i… i really think you might be pregnant.”

your eyes widen, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth as he quickly continues. “with the mood swings, the occasional sickness, i just… i really think it could explain some things.”

“i… i haven't gotten my period.” you suddenly realize, placing a hand on your stomach.

“i know.” rafe grins softly. he's always been able to easily keep track just based on how you behave. 

“so-” he pulls something out of the bedside table drawer and hands it to you. “i thought you should take a pregnancy test. ill be right here with you and then… we can decide.”

“decide what?” you look up in confusion, before quickly realizing. “oh.”

“i-” rafe feels foolish for a moment, nervous and unlike his normal self, but he looks at you, glowing you, and he knows what to do. “i want to keep it. i love our life together. i love you. i want a baby with you.”

“you do?” you question, tears instantly welling up in your eyes. 

“of course. you'd be the best mom. there's no one else id want to do this with other than you. i know we are young and aren't married yet but… i really want this.”

“i do to.” you launch yourself across the bed, hugging rafe tightly.

“i love you.” you whisper to him, burying your head in his neck as a couple tears of pure happiness slip out.

“please.” rafe pulls you away. “please go and take the test, i need to know.”

“oh my god, yeah.” you take the test into the bathroom, peeing on the stick before placing it on the counter to wait.

“five minutes.” rafe is just as nervous waiting as you are, he just displays it differently. you sit down on the bed, staring at nothing, while he paces the room, needing to move, glancing constantly at the bathroom and the clock.

“should be time.” rafe says, frowning when you jolt at his words, so lost in your own head.

“yeah, yeah.” you nod, letting rafe grip your hand tightly, knowing he needs the physical connection as you stand and walk into the bathroom.

“you look.” you urge rafe.

rafe nods, then gulps, then turns the stick over to reveal two blue lines. you can tell everything by his reaction, the way his eyes light up as he turns to you.

“oh my god, we're pregnant!” you whisper-scream, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders as he lifts you, instantly carrying you back to bed.

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen

[wabatle]

Blue Lock boys when you're on your period featuring: Reo, Rin, Bachira, Nagi can be read as either afab!reader or fem!reader warnings: everything that comes with having a period (obviously) like blood, pads/tampons, cramps, etc a/n: I'm on my period as I write this and it fucking sucks. lmk if you want a pt2 with more characters!

☆彡Reo Mikage

As soon as he figured out you got your period, he was all over you

Constantly asking if you were okay, if you needed anything, if you wanted to go home if you were out

Gets you the most high quality and expensive products 💀

Does so much research on what it is and how to take care of you

Genuinely will skip practice or important work (or other stuff he does) to stay with you

If you have bad cramps, he's insisting you stay home and in bed and he'll dedicate himself to taking care of you

Weirdly good at discrete spot checking. If you think you bled through your pants, he's got you.

He's especially careful to not hurt you because he knows you can get upset easily, and he might laugh a little bit if you're crying over something miniscule

You came out of the bathroom, a sickly expression on your face.

“Is it that time of the month?” Reo asked nervously.

“Yeah, that would explain why I felt so sick yesterday.” You mumbled.

“Here, come here,” he said, allowing you to crash into his arms, “I'll take care of you, baby.”

“Huuuh…” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“You okay, baby? Need any ibuprofen?”

“Yeah, probably…”

“Okay.” He kissed your head. “I'll go get some. I can also get your heating pad if you want it?”

“Yeah, thanks…”

“‘Course! I told you I would take care of you, babe. Now, go lay down. I'll be back in a sec.” He kissed your head.

☆彡Rin Itoshi

Also all over you, but in an indirect way

You're constantly on his mind, he's worried about you

As worried as he is about you, he would still choose to go to practice, but he'll stop somewhere on the way home to get you something, and he'll come home if you need him urgently

He buys you literally everything you need, pads, tampons, you name it, he'll go out and buy it

He doesn't change his behavior when you're on your period, but he does take notice to your intense reactions, like that time you starting sobbing hysterically after he told you practice was stressful and just wanted to go to bed (didn't have time for you)

He keeps a little “period emergency kit” with him at all times 🥺 he needs to make sure he can give you what you need just in case you're out in public and you need something

You and Rin were out to dinner and you had gotten your period the morning before.

“Ughh…” You mumbled, clutching your stomach.

“Cramps?” Rin asked quietly, as not to embarrass you.

“Yeah…”

“Here,” he said, pulling a heat pack out of the kit in his pocket, “go to the bathroom and put this on.”

“Rin…” You smiled, “Thanks, baby.” You took the pack and went to the bathroom.

When you got back, your food had already arrived.

“How is it? Do you feel better?” He asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“If you need anything else, let me know.” He added, leaning across the table to kiss your head.

☆彡Meguru Bachira

Another who's all over you… literally

He's really really worried when he sees you crying on the bed because of cramps, but he really doesn't know what a period is or what it does to you

Brings you tons and tons of snacks because he really doesn't know how to help you

If you don't stay over at his house, he's texting you all day. In the morning, before you go to bed, he's just making sure you're not dead!

Steals his mom's period supplies to give to you. It might not be the exact brands you like, but you appreciate the thought

Skips practice for you with the excuse that “it's that time of the month and you really need his help” but you're actually lying on the couch with a heating pad watching a movie

Bachira burst through the front door, carrying tons of snacks. “Hi baby!”

“Woah, you're home early. Welcome home!” You smiled from your spot on the couch.

“Thanks! I brought you tons of snacks!” He dropped the snacks on the table and plopped down on the couch, snuggling close to you. “I got out of practice thanks to your period!”

You giggled. “Don't thank it yet. I'll probably cry about it later.”

“Don't worry! I'll take care of you!” He said.

“Thank you, baby.” You kissed his cheek, making him giggle and kiss your lips back.

He got up and grabbed some snacks. “Let's watch a movie!”

“Ah, shouldn't we have dinner first?”

“Noo, you're on your period! I have to treat you well today!”

“And that means skipping dinner?”

“Do you want to skip dinner?”

“No, not really…”

“Then let's order takeout! What do you feel like having?”

☆彡Seishiro Nagi

Sooo tired, but he'll put up with you (he loves you so much)

He’ll hold you sooo tight while you're cuddling, and he'll keep playing his game

He tells you to relax in his arms and make sure you took your meds, and he'll want you to fall asleep while he plays his games

In his eyes, it just means he has to take care of you instead of the other way around, so he'll do the least he can do

Another one who would 100% use you as an excuse to get out of practice

Literally has a small bucket of pads, tampons, and other “period stuff” on a shelf so he can just grab it without getting up

If he notices you're more emotional as usual, he'll be like, “are you about to get your period?”

and then he'll mentally prepare himself for it

You had just dropped your water bottle, causing it to open and spill everywhere. You were crying.

“Don't worry about it, angel.” Nagi assured you, grabbing a paper towel to mop it up.

“I–I’m sorry… I–I didn't mean to…” You mustered through sniffles.

“Don't cry, baby.” He pulled you closer to him, resting your head on his chest. “I took care of it.”

You put your forehead on his chest, and he could feel your tears staining his shirt.

“Come on, angel. Let's go back to bed.”

“But it's 3:00 pm?”

“Doesn't matter. You need to take more meds anyway. It's been 6 hours.”

“Okay…”

He kissed your head. “Don't cry. It's a hassle.”

You playfully nudged him, already feeling better. “Well, you're my boyfriend, so you're obligated to take care of me.”

“Says who?” He asks, plopping down on the bed.

“Says me!” You giggled, plopping down next to him.”

He pulled you closer and pulled out his Switch.

[wayward-dreamer]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 3,730

Summary: Dean resigns himself to the fact that his girlfriend has to miss out on Christmas with him, hard at work and trying to meet a deadline over the holidays, states away. He hopes she can make it.

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, lots of fluff towards the end, smut: dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), v fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up people), breeding kink if you squint, Dean being a domestic dream boyfriend.

A/N: Requested by @xlynnbbyx. I hope you like it! Happy reading everyone! Unbeta'd.

There’s nothing quite like coming home to a warm house, especially just as the chill of winter starts to set in. As Dean stepped into his home, scarf bundled around his neck and tucked into his long, black coat he was thankful that his home was well insulated, even when the heating wasn’t on. Snow was just beginning to fall, causing him to dust it off his shoulders and hair before he removed his coat, hanging it by the door on the rack along with his scarf. He slipped off his black loafers, turning the thermostat on as he walked into the kitchen. He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over the bar stool, making his way over to the fridge. He took out a bottle of beer, twisted the cap off and took a long swig, sitting in the bar stool with a heavy exhale.

He looked around the darkened house, the only light on in the kitchen, his eyes scanning over the photos on the wall. The only thing better than escaping the cold for warmth, was having the warmth of someone next to him. He smiled softly as he looked at his favorite photos of him and his girlfriend, wishing she had been there to greet him when he got back from work. It had been several months that hadn’t occurred, and he was starting to get sick of coming back to an empty nest. He took out his phone, checking the time and shaking his head when he realized it was too late to call her. He might just have to try for your lunch break the next day.

Y/N had been offered a new position at her company, which came in the form of a relocation for 10 months. It had been hard in the first few weeks to be apart, but they had made it work with her coming home every other weekend, or him flying in to see her on the alternate ones. As things got busier for both of them that meant they had less freedom to do that. He had spent many sleepless nights in their bed, wishing she could be back in Kansas with him and not miles away in another state.

Now with just a week until Christmas, he had to live with the fact that she couldn’t come home for the holidays. She had broken the news to him a week prior, apologizing profusely as they had to work through the Christmas period to meet a deadline. As usual, he understood it was her job and she had responsibilities, but it just plain sucked that he wasn’t going to have her home to celebrate.

He just hoped that they had a better shot at New Years Eve.

“So we’re doing 24th dinner here, and presents in the morning and then 25th dinner at mom and dad’s,” Sam explained, passing the box of orange chicken to Dean across the table.

“Sounds good,” Dean muttered, taking some of the chicken out onto his plate. “I gotta go to Benny’s after I’m done with work, but I’ll be here after that.”

Sam nodded, as he took the noodles from Eileen. “What time is Y/N flying in?”

Dean pursed his lips as he looked between both of them, totally forgetting the fact that he hadn’t told them yet. “Uh, she’s actually not gonna be here for Christmas. Her team’s working through to meet a deadline and she can’t make it.”

“Seriously? She’s not going to be here?” Eileen signed, frowning as she watched Dean sit back in his chair.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I mean, yeah it sucks that this’ll be our first time away from each other during Christmas, but she’s gotta work.”

“You’re shockingly cool about this,” Sam stated.

Dean huffed, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, Sammy? You want me to say I want her here for Christmas, because it’s already been 5 months without her being home? Yeah, that’s what I want, okay? I really want that, but it’s her job, man. I can’t argue with that.”

Shoving a huge forkful of food meant the conversation was over, but as they continued with dinner and moved onto talking about other things, Sam couldn’t get the thought of Y/N not coming home for Christmas out of his mind.

Maybe he had to use his persuasive skills thanks to his job for this situation too.

If there was one place Y/N didn’t want to be so close to Christmas, it was work.

Relocating to Philadelphia had been exciting at first, even if she was sad about leaving her friends and family behind in Lawrence. She knew 10 months was going to be a lot, but she hoped with all the work that needed to be done, that time would fly by. However, it had 5 months of ridiculous hours, and only getting to see her boyfriend once every few weeks, if they could manage it. The work was fine, she was good at her job, but she never loved it. It was only meant to be temporary when she was back at the Kansas City branch, but when her boss asked her to relocate she hoped that it was just a way to prove herself and get back home sooner. Maybe even get a promotion because of it. Then hearing that she couldn’t travel back for the holidays was the tasteless icing on a shitty cake.

She just prayed they could meet the deadline by the weekend and she could still try and make it before it was too late.

Y/N finished typing up the latest report that needed to be collated with the others, emailing it to the administrative assistant of her department. Checking the time, she sighed in relief that it was just after 1pm and she could finally eat. Picking up her purse, she walked out of her office, her heels clacking against the wooden floors as she passed the assistant’s desk.

“Hey, Riley. I just emailed you the latest report, can you make 10 copies of those and have them on my desk by the end of lunch?” she asked, slinging her tote over her shoulder.

“Sure,” Riley replied, blandly as she ignored her.

Y/N closed her eyes, breathed in deep before she exhaled, trying to let go of her frustration. She looked at the younger blonde woman, plastering on a polite smile. “Please. In half an hour.”

She walked away before she caught Riley no doubt rolling her eyes, making her way to the elevators. She went down a few floors to the cafeteria, opting for lunch inside rather than enduring the cold and finding a cafe to go to. She didn’t have the energy or willpower for that today. As she sat down with her salad and water, she checked her texts and other emails she hadn’t gotten to yet. She scrolled mindlessly on Instagram, liking a post every now and then as she shoved food into her mouth. Her thumb lingered on one post, a sad smile pulling at her lips when she saw her boyfriend and his brother and sister-in-law just taking a casual selfie at family dinner, something she also would’ve been a part of had she been there. Double tapping and moving on after the heart appeared, she flinched as her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her. She recovered quickly, seeing Sam’s name pop up on the screen.

“Hey, Sam,” she answered, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Hey! How’s Philly treating you?” he asked, no doubt smiling.

“Just making me wish I was somewhere tropical right now,” she replied, glancing out the huge glass windows at the bleak sky.

She heard his boisterous laugh through the speaker, making her smile softly. “Well, it’s not much better here in Kansas, but we’re getting through it. Missing those gingerbread cookies of yours, though.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m missing the fact that I haven’t made them this year,” she admitted. “And I miss y’all enjoying them, too.”

“So… maybe we can expect a small batch at least if you swing by for just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?” he asked, suggestively.

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Sam. I mean, I really want to and I’m working overtime just trying to get stuff done so that I can hopefully make it in time, but I don’t even know if we’ll be done by Tuesday at this point.”

Sam was quiet for a moment before she heard his soft timbre.

“Look, Y/N, I know that it’s your job and if you really can’t make it work then I completely understand… but if there’s a way you can, then just know that at least my brother’s not going to be brooding at the dinner table.”

She huffed a small laugh at that. She knew Dean was just being supportive of her and she loved him for it, but she wouldn’t have blamed him for being upset about this unfortunate circumstance. She was upset about it, knowing she’d much rather be with all of them.

“Okay, Sam. I’m gonna try like hell to be there,” she stated, firmly.

“Good. See you soon,” Sam ended the call with what she hoped was his words to God’s ears.

Y/N sat back in chair, fingers tapping against the screen of his phone, causing it to light up and show her she still had fifteen minutes before she had to head up to her desk. While she had hoped this relocation would be a way to come home to promotion, it was that she wished she could find her way home before kicking this job to the curb. She didn’t know how much longer she could handle being away from everyone, or how much longer she could endure the work that gave her absolutely no joy. Her phone buzzed again, this a text from her boss in all caps, reading: BE UP IN 5!!!

She glared down at the message, shaking her head as she considered the fact that she just felt like a pack mule carrying the entire load of the work and getting nothing in return. She had been there 6 years and barely had anything to show for it. She breathed in deep, closed her eyes and when she eventually opened them again, she knew what she needed to do. Something she should’ve done a long time ago.

When she got to her boss’s office, she walked in and was greeted by his scowling face barking orders at her. They went in one ear and out the other as she sat down calmly in the chair in front of his desk, waiting for him to finish before she spoke.

“There’s actually something we need to talk about first.”

Snowfall had begun and was sticking to the ground by the time Dean got home from his last day of work until after the new year began.

After leaving and making a quick stop at Benny’s to catch up before he left for Louisiana, he was intending to go straight to Sam’s, but he decided to go home first and change. Truly he didn’t care anymore if he was a dishevelled mess after work, but his mom would’ve had a few things to say and he didn’t want to deal with that today. It was Christmas Eve, and all he wanted to do was eat, drink and not think about the fact that Y/N was all the way in Philadelphia. He kept his mind occupied with the thought of food and alcohol, and not his beautiful girlfriend that he hadn’t seen in months. He missed her too much and he supposed for the sake of everyone in his family he should at least try not to dwell on the fact that she wasn’t there with them, to be more tolerable for the next few days.

He walked into the house, closing the door behind him and blocking out the cold. He frowned as he felt the house was warmer than usual, which meant he probably didn’t turn the heat off before leaving in the morning. Shaking his head at his own forgetfulness, he took off his coat and scarf, hung it up and was about to slip his loafers off when he heard a clattering sound from the kitchen. His jaw clenched as he stilled himself, wondering if he was just hearing things but then he heard the oven open and close, making him realize that the house was wafting with the smell of ginger and cinnamon. He took slow, tentative steps towards the arch to the living room and kitchen area, his heart beating rapidly in his chest until he saw the intruder he thought had broken very easily into his home wasn’t an intruder at all.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N greeted him with her signature beaming smile, placing a tray of her famous gingerbread cookies on the kitchen counter.

His eyes widened as he looked around the room before he focused on her. “I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted,” she teased, leaning her hands on the edge of the bench.

A smirk crept up on his face as he stared at her, taking in her beautiful face. “Fuck.”

He rushed over just as she skipped out of the kitchen and met him halfway, jumping up and wrapping her arms around him. She squealed as his arms wrapped tight around her waist, spinning her around as she buried her face into his neck. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw before looking deep into her eyes, confirming that this wasn’t a dream and pressing a searing kiss to her lips.

“Okay, okay, wait,” he muttered, pulling away but his face was still close to hers. “How the fuck are you here? I thought you had to work all-”

“Well, it turns out that I couldn’t take one more day in that place and being away from you,” she said, her hand combing through his short hair. “So, after a very brief but convincing phone call from your brother I went to my boss and asked if I could come home.”

“Damn, that was generous of him,” he stated, holding her tight. “I thought he was a hardass.”

“Oh, he is and he made a big noise about me leaving before the deadline, so I quit.”

“What?” he asked, frowning. “Babe, wait. Why would you do that?”

“Because I already had one foot out the door these last few months and I couldn’t spend another day doing something I didn’t love,” she explained, pecking his lips. “Plus, I missed you too much.”

“Y/N,” he shook his head, comprehending everything she just told him. “You gotta be totally sure about this, ‘cause-”

She cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips, looking deep into his eyes. “I am.”

“Fuck, I missed you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “I guess I owe Sam, huh?”

“Yes, and I owe him a whole batch of cookies just for him,” she chuckled, pointing her thumb behind her to the kitchen.

He hummed as he kissed her once, twice as he walked back towards the staircase near the front of the house. “That’s gonna have to wait until I’m done with you, though.”

“Dean, I have to put another batch in!” she exclaimed as he carried her upstairs.

“Later,” he breathed, his gaze intense as he looked into her eyes. “Right now we got a lot of time to make up for.”

“We’ll be late,” she mumbled between kisses as he moved towards their bed.

“They’ll live.”

She giggled as they quickly stripped themselves of their clothes before he helped her onto the bed. She laid down and pulled him with her, wrapping herself around him as he kissed her, roughly. Taking her hands in his, he moved them above her head, drifting down and leaving a trail of kisses along her body. Time apart hadn’t hindered the effect that he had on her, her legs immediately falling open as he nipped and licked along her soft skin. She sighed as his tongue found the swollen nub at the apex of her thighs, her fingers combing into his locks and keeping him in place. Soft moans gained volume as he continued to pleasure her with his talented mouth.

“Dean, oh god,” she moaned, loudly, throwing her head back. “Fuck, I missed this.”

He chuckled as he pulled away slightly, looking up at her. “Gotta make sure you didn’t forget it.”

“As if I ever could,” she sighed, meeting his gaze.

He continued his ministrations, groaning at the feel and taste of her against his tongue as he circled the bundle of nerves. He slipped two fingers into her, a sharp cry escaping her as he wasted no time and set a quick pace, finding that sweet spot inside with each thrust. Her arousal grew as he kept going, the familiar heat pooling deep in her core and she knew she was close. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time, hadn’t felt him in such a long time and she found herself growing impatient.

“Dean, please,” she pleaded, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I’m so close, baby, please.”

She gripped his hair roughly between her fingers as he sped up, his tongue flicking over her clit expertly. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the burning knot in her stomach wind tighter, his name falling from her lips in a loud whimper once she reached the blissful peak. Her wetness coated his tongue and fingers as he slowly withdrew from her, shifting up and pressing his lips to hers. She moaned at the taste of herself against him, clinging to him as he gathered her in his embrace.

“Fuck me,” she ordered, her lustful gaze meeting his. “Now, right now, please…”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, babe,” he grinned.

He took hold of his hard shaft, notching himself to her entrance and in one quick motion, buried himself inside her soft walls. Her mouth fell open as a long moan escaped her, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he pulled out slightly, sliding into her wet heat again and setting a languid rhythm to his thrusts.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he groaned, nipping at her jaw. “Missed feeling this sweet little pussy around my cock.”

Their faces were close as they gazed into each other’s eyes, neither wanting to look away considering how long it had been without this type of connection. She shifted her hips to meet his, the pace not being enough to satisfy her in that moment. She wanted more, needed more.

“Harder, Dean,” she gasped, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “Fuck me harder, wanna feel it for days…”

“Yeah? You wanna feel my dick deep inside you, huh?” he husked, low and rough.

She whined with desperation, the rumble of his voice making her clench around him. One hand slid down his muscular back, squeezing the curve of his pert ass. “Yeah, fuck me like you missed me, baby. Come on.”

She got exactly what she wanted as he slammed into her, a shrieking moan falling from her lips, feet locked as she wrapped herself around him to keep him right where he was. He pounded into her, the head of his cock pressing against that spot that made her toes curl, that caused her moans to grow louder with each stroke.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” she whimpered, her eyes half closed in bliss. “Right there, Dean, feel so fucking good inside me.”

“So perfect, baby,” he whispered against her lips. “So fucking perfect.”

She grabbed his face in both of her hands and pulled him into a passionate kiss, their lips fused together as he continued to move within her. He felt her slick walls clench around him, her impending release as close as his.

She hummed as she looked up at him, her thumb stroking his jaw. “So close, Dean…”

He smirked as his hand drifted down between their bodies, his fingers circling her clit and making her eyes widen as she clung to him. Her breath stuttered as he moved them faster, in time with the hard drive of his hips against her, the heat deep in her core growing. With another thrust, her walls contracted around him as she came undone, a sharp cry of his name from between her lips as her arousal covered his shaft. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer as his hips faltered, his cock throbbing inside her as he felt a heat curling in his belly.

“Cum inside me, baby,” her soft voice encouraged, her eyes sparkling with love for him. “Fill me up, I wanna feel it.”

A guttural moan rumbled in his chest as he slammed harder into her, his rhythm sloppier as he felt himself about to reach that perfect release. A shaky grunt escaped him as he finally shattered, pushing into her as far as possible. She moaned softly in his ear as she felt spurts of his seed flood her, content with being filled by him. He rolled his hips into her, the need to get his come as deep as he could inside her overwhelming in that moment.

He slowly dropped down on top of her, his head falling on her chest as her fingers combed his hair. They breathed heavily, coming down from the high they hadn’t experienced in a long time. She bit her lip as she stared up at the ceiling, a small giggle bubbling up through her lips. He lifted his head, resting his chin on her as he looked into her eyes.

“What?” His voice was low but rough from their activity.

She shook her head, smiling down at him. “Just… I’m so happy to be home. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he husked, kissing her chest. “Best Christmas ever.”

She beamed, her lips resting against his forehead as she sighed. She had never been happier about a decision in her life, and she was glad she came home before it was too late to celebrate the holidays.

“Best Christmas ever.”

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

I would like to request more slasher x reader whos on the period and is just emotionally exhausted and does a fall hug on them and sighs 😞

I actually looked up period aesthetic on Pinterest 🤦‍♀️ (didn't work, I had to instead looked up blood stain aesthetic)

Ps: why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to put blood stains pictures here, and also this might be the last post for this week and the next week, since my exams are only one week away I really need to start focusing on my studies. I love you all, byee :)

Slashers in this are: Michael myers, sinclair brothers, Jason, and lastly, Billy and stu

Warnings:

Relationship: romantic!!

Slashers with exhausted reader on her cycle!

Michael

Michael sat rested on the couch of your living room. Letting himself sink into the soft cushion. This day was particularly satisfactory by far... Except for one thing.

You were ignoring him. You've stayed in your room with food and a bunch of other stuff saying you were on your period, you've explained to him before and stuff. But that didn't give you the right to ignore him. What did he even do anyway?

Deciding thinking about why his s/o's mad at him on their period isn't his thing, he shuts his eyes and prepares to pass out.

The silence and the comfy atmosphere. Not too hot not too cold, slightly slouching to his side now that the drowsiness is getting to him. Until he hears the door open ,your door open. he quickly sits straight waiting for your figure to come into the living room.

Are you mad at him right now? Are you going to yell at him? Did he forget to do something?

He sees you enter the room and make eye contact with him for a few seconds, waiting for you to do Or say something. He becomes a bit alert when you start walking towards him, you don't seem to have a bit of aggression in your manner and you just seem... Tired.

flop!

Next thing he knows you're on top of him with your hands around his body. Sighing loudly you don't do anything and he starts hearing you softly snore.

Maybe just these few times you can physically get this close to him. He takes a few breaths before his eyelids start feeling heavy again and he starts to feel less and less energetic.

Subconsciously he puts his hand on your back as the two of you slumber into a deep sleep together.

Sinclair brothers

Bo's not really the best in verbal comfort but he sure is one hell of a good physical one. He sat on the couch reading a newspaper after a long day of being mean. Having a cup of coffee on the small table next to the couch you kinda wanted to laugh. Your overly aggressive boyfriend sitting so quietly and almost innocently on the couch on a Thursday morning is really a contradiction to his usual behaviour. But the inner exhaustion is making you dramatic. Walking over to him he notices you. "What?" He questioned, not a single sound of roughness in them. Hmm, maybe he really was in a good mood today. Taking this as your sign you grab his newspaper and then fall on him dramatically, not forgetting to hug him as you do so. Sighing as you feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours. "What do you think you're doing?" He asks a bit annoyed and a bit more confused. You place the paper on the arm rest on the couch and just continue to rest on him. Bo stays quiet for moments before he wraps his arms around your waist. "Well you could've just told me if you wanted a hug." He chuckles a bit. Let's just hope this isn't cut short.

Vincent Although can't really talk or comfort you verbally, is willing to do anything for you. Acts of service, physical touch, gift giving... Anything. Especially since you're on this painful and tiring process called "a period" He's on his bed reading a book he got from a traveller. Flipping through the pages he hears steps coming towards his room. He memorised your footsteps by now and closed his book but kept his fingers in between where he was reading. He saw you in his sight and tilted his head as to say "is there something you need?". You smiled a bit and went towards him and your body went softly crashing into his. Tightly hugging around his neck and you sigh because honestly hugging him was the most comforting thing ever. Vincent's a bit startled but rubs your back as he realises you're just tired. He kisses the top of your head through his wax mask and he starts blushing and grins when you turn to him and his cheek. He couldn't help but fall for this side of you every single time.

Lester was the best at any kind of affection. So anytime you felt the bit of sadness you immediately went to him. Today or during the cycle was no exception, trotting over to find your lovely dearest boyfriend you needed someone to lay all your love on right now. You finally saw him, Lester who was dropping by for a few days to accompany his brothers was on a couch with Vincent, it seemed they were silently discussing something. Probably they broke the wooden floor and were planning on how to tell Bo without angering him. (Impossible) besides all that, you just wanted to feel your lover's warmth around yours. Lester who noticed you after Vincent did, immediately lights up with a goofy smile. "Hey baby! How are you doing?" You instantly knew he was referring to your cycle, you gave a small smile on your tired face. You walked over to him with your arms extended and fell on him. "Woah!" He relaxes after a few seconds. He strokes your hair as you lay quietly on him. (Vincent third wheeled his way out of the room.)

Jason

It were a particularly quiet and peaceful few days camp crystal Lake. Which was a very good thing which meant a longer spending time with your undead boyfriend.

Especially since being on the flow meant more emotional draining. And although your boyfriend wasn't the warmest in body heat, he definitely was the warmest in showing you his love.

He was on a bed just resting because he didn't really have anything else to do. He didn't wanna bother you since you said you were on your period and didn't wanna risk you getting mad at him. (He would be extremely sulky.)

In his train of thoughts he hears footsteps creaking and immediately gets up, did a trespasser come into the cabins without him knowing? He grabs his machete that was on the ground and prepares for any sort of unfamiliar faces, he sees your face and sighs. He drops his machete as he realises he almost hit you with it.

You see him and stare at him for a few moments. He tilts his head and you start walking over to him and jump on him with your arms around his body.

He presses his mask against your head as you sigh. He couldn't express how much he loves you if he were honest. He strokes your head as he thinks so.

Billy n stu

You knew who to go to when you needed some physical affection. Having two people around you was more than enough.

You couldn't bother telling them about the problems and pains of your period since they're both lowkey air heads.. Just one of them is a bit smarter but definitely more sassy with a shit more attitude.

You slowly made your steps over to where you heard bickering, you saw the two of your boyfriends who you could see were talking about a horror movie most likely. You lazily walk to them, damn. They still don't notice you yet.

You decide to just fuck it and throw your body to where they were and Billy made a surprise grunting noise as Stu just yelped.

"Jesus! You fucking scared the shit out of us Y/n!" Billy exclaimed. Stu made a small "yeah!"

You just sighed tiredly. You wrapped your arms around both of them. "Well, we were just about to watch a movie. Wanna join us?" You just nodded as you felt them adjust themselves around your grip.

You relaxed after you felt Stu hug you tightly as Billy started going through the tapes with his legs around yours.

You were starting to relax until they started bickering again. Damn they couldn't shut up could they?

[chlix]

to do what i can do

pairing: seungmin x f!reader

genre: fluff, light angst

word count: 6.1k

warnings: insecurity, light angst, exactly three (3) uses of "y/n"

synopsis: after a conversation with hyunjin's girlfriend, you grow worried that you aren't putting enough work and attention into your relationship. seungmin dissuades you of this idea immediately.

a/n: literally never done this before so sorry if this formatting isn't standard. also ignore any spelling errors pls <3

Seungmin kisses you goodbye every morning. It’s like clockwork: he puts on his shoes, pours his coffee in a mug, kisses you goodbye, and is out the door. Both of you are routine-oriented people. You like schedules and organized silverware drawers. Ever since you first got together, Seungmin has been kissing you goodbye whenever you part ways, and nearly a year later that hasn’t changed. It’s sweet that he always remembers, and the fact that it’s practiced doesn’t make it feel any less sincere.

This morning is more of the same. You get up before him, as always, and put the coffee on. You check your emails while your breakfast cooks. Seungmin emerges just as the food is done (too late to actually eat it, as always) and goes to get his coat and shoes from the door. He loops back around to put his coffee in the cup you washed the previous night and leans down to where you’re sitting at the table to kiss you lightly on the lips. It’s so rote as to be unnotable, but it makes you smile anyway, your day instantly brighter.

“I love you,” you call after him, as you always do, and Seungmin waves as he leaves, throwing a “Be safe!” over his shoulder.  And then the door closes, and you’re alone.

In a few minutes, you’ll go to work at your office job. Later, you’ll come home and make dinner. At some point in the day, Seungmin will text you to let you know if he’ll be coming home or not, so that you’ll know if you need to make one portion or two. You normally make two anyway, and just leave the second wrapped up in the fridge. If worst comes to worst, you don’t mind eating the leftovers. It’s far more horrible in your mind to not have food ready for him when he is home. It’s not that Seungmin expects food from you. He’s expressed multiple times that he can buy food on his way home. But you like cooking for him, and lately you don’t get much chance because he’s so busy. You want things to be perfect when he’s home because the time you get together is precious. You’re not obsessive about it, or anything. You’re not “playing housewife” as your friends sometimes say. It’s not a crime to want to take care of your boyfriend.

Right now is a bit of a hectic period, and you haven’t seen him much for a while. You were surprised he even had the time to come home the previous night, although of course you were grateful. When he does come home, he gives you his undivided attention, like you’re the only person on earth. It makes the wait worth it. And he kisses you goodbye every morning because he loves you, and you can feel it on your lips all day, and it assuages the loneliness you might otherwise feel.

Today you have lunch with Ahrin, Hyunjin’s girlfriend. You have good relationships with the partners of all the boys, but you’re a bit closer to Ahrin, maybe because you two are so similar. Ahrin is quieter than the other women, and is more content to observe rather than participate. She’s witty and sharp-tongued, but still kind, and has a gentleness to her that makes her easy to open up to. She calls you up and complains she hasn’t seen you in a while and asks to have a meal with you that afternoon. You haven’t been feeling work very much, and you do miss her, so you agree to take a late lunch and meet her a cafe near your office.

Ahrin is radiant as always, and you make small talk about your families before devolving into complaining about mundanities: annoyances at work and the price of fruit at the supermarket. As you’re speaking, you notice Ahrin is wearing a dainty gold necklace that you don’t recognize, and cut yourself off to ask about it.

“Oh, this? It’s Cartier. Hyunjin bought it for me,” she says, bringing a hand up to touch the small pendant like she’d forgotten she was wearing it. “He’s on this kick about couple’s jewelry.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, and you mean it. It suits Ahrin’s softness and sophistication. He may have bought it because it was Cartier, but he clearly put some thought into it besides the designer label.

“Thank you,” she says, genuinely pleased. “I try to wear something he bought me whenever I go visit him.”

“Are you going to see him today?”

“I just come from there, actually. He took my credit card in his wallet, so I had to go get it back.”

“Oldest trick in the book,” you say.

Ahrin rolls her eyes. “I know. But it’ll work every time. I can’t help that I need it to go about my day.”

She doesn’t sound the least bit bothered. Ahrin and Hyunjin have been together for two years, and it’s a trick he’s pulled ever since they started living together, the “accidentally taking one of Ahrin’s things to work.” You’ve asked her before why she doesn’t confront him about it, but she says that she thinks it’s cute how he keeps coming up with excuses to see her, and anyway, she also likes having excuses to see him.

You also think it’s cute, if in a more wistful way. Seungmin is organized to a T, and he’s never needed you to bring him something he’s forgotten or vice versa. In fact, you can’t remember if you’ve ever visited him at work at all. You don’t think it’s that strange, though. It’s not like he’s made a habit of showing up to your workplace. Also, you likely wouldn’t have the time even if he’d offered. It does dampen your mood a bit though, especially as Seungmin texts you in the middle of your conversation that he in fact, would not be coming home today, meaning you would have to eat dinner alone tonight.

Ahrin notices the dip in your mood as you set your phone back on the table.

“Bad news?” she asks.

You swipe the notification away.

“It’s nothing. Seungmin just texting me about how busy they are.”

Ahrin hums in understanding. “Well, what can you do. At least it’s not as crazy as it was a few months ago.”

“Isn’t it?” You’ve been seeing less of Seungmin than you had in ages, and you’d assumed it was because their schedules had been bordering on unbearable lately. But Ahrin looks confused at your question.

“I don’t think so. Busier than last month, yeah. But they’re not filming anything right now, so the schedule isn’t as rigid. Seungmin hasn’t talked to you about this?”

You feel embarrassed, somehow. “He doesn’t talk about work much when he’s with me. He likes to keep it separate.”

“That makes sense. You should ask him to share his schedule with you, though. What if you need him and you don’t know where he is, or when he’ll answer?”

“I know where he’s at, generally. He tells me if he’s traveling. I just don’t know the minutiae.”

“You’re allowed to know. You should, for your own peace of mind.”

It’s not that it hadn’t occurred to you to ask. Seungmin told you his whereabouts if you questioned him, and he even volunteered information every once in a while, so you hadn’t thought much of it. And you didn’t suspect him of cheating on you ever in a million years. You knew he had other hobbies and friends as well- a whole life outside you that you weren’t privy to and didn’t need to be. But was it possible you were being a bit too aloof about your boyfriends daily habits? Why didn’t he share what he was doing, if he wasn’t at work? Why didn’t you know?

“I’ll ask him,” you say. “You’re right.”

Ahrin smiles encouragingly, and the topic is dropped for other matters. The odd feeling in your stomach doesn’t settle, though, and by the time you’ve finished your day and sat down to eat dinner, you realize you’ve unfortunately lost your appetite.

Seungmin calls you the next day to say he’ll be staying at the dorm for several days, and you tell him okay, thanks for telling me, I love you, goodbye. After you hang up the phone, you berate yourself for not asking more questions. You’re his girlfriend. You should be care that he’s leaving you alone for days at a time, you think as you drive to work. Maybe he’d been waiting for you to ask what he’d be doing or pester him for spoilers about the group’s upcoming plans. Maybe he wanted you to pout and whine about missing him and beg him to come home. You’d never done any of those things before, but maybe you should be. Maybe he’d called you hoping you would do those things and had hung up the phone disappointed.

The central problem of dating an idol is always a scarcity of time. They’re always busy, and because they’re always busy, you as a partner need to have a life outside them that is full and fulfilling, and sometimes those two schedules conflict. You can go long stretches without spending meaningful time together, and it’s hard to cope with, especially when they’re within driving distance of you, but still inaccessible. You know, though, that a scarcity of time does not always mean a scarcity of attention. You’ve seen it in Ahrin and Hyunjin, in the Cartier necklace and the missing credit card, that Hyunjin thinks about Ahrin all the time, and Ahrin knows that he does, is thinking of him just as much if not more. She can languish in the thought that even if Hyunjin is not with her, he desperately wishes he was, and when she wears his necklaces and bracelets and $500 hair clips, Hyunjin knows she is also desperately thinking about him.

You and Seungmin don’t have a system like that. Seungmin isn’t in the habit of buying you expensive gifts, for starters. He’s frugal with his money, hyperaware that one day his youth and fame will fade, and he won’t have such extravagant income. You’re similarly pragmatic, and you’ve never resented him for this. And that’s not to say he never spends money on you. He buys you flowers and takes you on expensive dates. He bought you a new laptop and headphones without you saying anything, and your closet is full of fancy dresses that are each tied to a high class outing you’ve been on. For each one, he’d bought himself a shirt and jacket to match. But those aren’t things you wear every day to show off. They’re for special occasions, specific memories. There’s nothing you wear or carry daily that marks you as ‘his.’

And honestly, you’ve never really thought about yourself that way. You and Seungmin are together, and you live together (by whatever measure your living arrangements currently count as), but you’ve never longed to be “branded” in a way befitting a pair of earrings or an oversized sweater. You wear his clothes at home, but never out. You don’t feel the need to show up to his practices and recording sessions. You’ve never even asked if you were allowed. If Seungmin bought you a Cartier necklace, you aren’t totally sure you would wear it.

It hits you like a freight train when you put it all together: You don’t care enough about Seungmin. You’re comfortable with him, you feel like you love him, but you don’t care about him the way you’re supposed to care about him. You’re not involved enough. But then, the same goes for him too, doesn’t it? He knows what you do for work, but he rarely asks you about anything other than a cursory how was your day? He doesn’t pester you for anything, doesn’t ask you to visit him or stay up for him when he comes home late. Aren’t those things that he should expect from you as a girlfriend? Why doesn’t he care that you’re so obviously neglecting him? When he kisses you goodbye in the morning, is that because he misses you, or is that just a habit formed over these past months, a meaningless part of the morning ritual he couldn’t resist if he tried?

You feel caught in a lurch, unsure what to do now. Seungmin deserves better than you, clearly. He deserves a girlfriend who actually gives a fuck about his life. But maybe, if you start making up for it now, he’ll forgive the past few months of you being so terrible. He’ll realize that you are an attentive girlfriend, and that you do care about him and that you love him, and you can prove it, you swear, it took you a while to realize what was wrong but you’ve got it all straightened out now. 

You can change. You can fix this. You know you can.

-/-

The next time Seungmin comes home, you wake up first the next morning, like always. You go to put the coffee on, and you make breakfast, and you check your emails. Seungmin comes out, walks past you to his shoes and coat, and doubles back to get his morning coffee.

“Busy day today?” you ask.

Seungmin freezes in his movements, caught off guard by your question. He recovers quickly enough, and answers. “Not particularly. Vocal practice, some other things.”

“Oh, good. Do you think you’ll be home today then?”

Seungmin turns to face you, his cup abandoned on the counter, unfilled. “Is everything alright?”

“What?”

“Is something wrong? Do we need to talk?”

Oh god, it’s worse than you thought. Asking if he’s going to be home to eat dinner is enough for him to think something is amiss. Have you truly never asked him that before?

“Everything’s fine. It would just be nice to eat dinner with you, is all.”

Seungmin relaxes. He leans down to kiss you, but it lingers longer than normal, as if he’s savoring the touch, your attention. “I’ll do my best,” he promises. “I love you. Have a nice day.”

You absolutely blossom under his affection, the verbosity atypical for so early in the morning.

“I love you too. Be safe.”

“I always am,” he says, and presses another peck to your lips before pulling away. He finishes pouring his coffee, grabs his coat, and waves as he leaves. You sit at the table, vibrating with satisfaction. You’re doing it, you’re giving him what he needs. Maybe all hope isn’t lost for you two just yet.

Your sky-high mood follows you to work, and the day keeps getting better with the discovery of cupcakes in the break room. One of your coworkers’ kids just had a birthday, and they had way too much food left over. You take one back to your desk to nibble on while you work, and even the mundanity of your daily tasks can’t bring you down from how well this day is turning out. Around midmorning, it occurs to you that this is the perfect opportunity to do something else nice for Seungmin by bringing him cupcakes. They’re not filming, which means they’re not on diets, so he can handle a bit of sugar and frosting, especially if it’s a gift from you. You borrow a container from the staff kitchen to carry some cupcakes and decide to defer your own lunch to deliver them across the city.

When you get to the JYPE building, though, you realize you have no idea what to do. You’re fairly sure you’re allowed access; the other girlfriends pop in and out all the time. But it’s possible no one here recognizes you, since this is the first time you’ve shown your face around here.

Being spontaneous is cute and quirky, but standing around lost and embarrassed grows tiring within seconds. You give up and decide to text Seungmin.

Are you busy?, you send, standing awkwardly by the door and hoping security doesn’t throw you out. Thankfully, he responds quickly.

Not super. Do you need to call?

Actually I’m in the lobby of your building. Can you come down?

Typing, and then a pause. Then more typing. Eventually the message comes through.

Ok.

You can’t decode that at all. It strikes you for the first time that you may be bothering him by driving over here. You did ask if he was busy, though. And it stood to reason that if you had time for a 5-minute phone call, he had time to come downstairs and accept the gift you’d brought him. It isn’t intrusive. This is what people do for each other when they care about each other.

It only takes a few minutes for Seungmin to round the corner into the lobby. His face is creased in concern, even worse than he’d looked this morning, and he’s walking at a brisk pace to stand right in front of you.

“Hey,” he says. “What’s going on?”

You don’t know how to respond to his intensity, so you just hold out the container towards him. “I brought you cupcakes.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow in utter confusion. “You…made cupcakes?”

“I didn’t make them. A coworker brought them in. But I remember you saying you liked cupcakes, and I had a free minute, so I thought I’d bring them over before they got finished.”

Seungmin accepts the box gingerly, as though it contains a nest of wild hornets, or lit sticks of dynamite. “You drove all the way over here to give this to me?”

Your doubts go from an inkling to a full-on tumult. “Yes, I did. I was just thinking of you…I thought you might like something sweet.”

You don’t mean to look dismayed, but Seungmin must clue-in to the fact that this isn’t the reaction you were hoping for. He shifts the box to one hand and laces your fingers together with his other.

“Thank you for thinking of me,” he says. “But you don’t need to go out of your way to bring me things.”

“It’s not out of my way. I had time.”

“Let me rephrase. You shouldn’t expend your lunch hour to bring me food. When are you going to eat now?”

“I’ll stay an extra half hour. It’s fine.”

Seungmin clearly isn’t satisfied with this. He tugs lightly on your arm, bidding you to follow, and you do, unsure of what else to do.

He takes you up a floor, and down a hallway to what seems to be a regular employee break room, where he gestures for you to sit down at one of the tables. You do, and he walks over to the fridge to get bottled water and brings back one for you, along with napkins and a knife from the drawer next to the fridge.

“If you aren’t going to eat lunch, you might as well share your spoils with me,” Seungmin says. He opens the container and takes out one of the cupcakes (and they are huge, to be honest, you kind of can’t believe they’re from a kid’s birthday party) and cuts it in half.

“Pick a side,” he says, and you do, and he carefully picks it up and lays it on a paper towel before sliding it towards you. He takes the other half, and you pick your desserts apart with your fingers. Seungmin tells an anecdote about Jeongin from their vocal lesson that morning. It’s…nice. You’re just spending time with your boyfriend, a quick stolen minute in the midst of your busy lives. The frosting is sickeningly sweet, and you find yourself reaching for the bottle of water without even thinking of it, and only later preen at the realization that Seungmin knew you would need to wash the artificial taste out and had brought you water preemptively. He knows you well enough to identify if something would suit your palette with only a glance.

Both of you don’t have much time to spare, so after fifteen minutes you wipe off your hands and clean off the table.

“I’ll bring the rest of these back upstairs,” he says. “They won’t last ten minutes once the others see them.”

“That’s fine. That’s what I was hoping for, actually.”

“And here I thought you brought these only for me,” he says, but his lips are curled up, teasing. He kisses you goodbye, like always, lips sugary-sweet and soft as cotton-candy. “Thank you for stopping by. I’ll see you tonight.”

Your heart grows three sizes. You’re on cloud nine. “Anytime,” you say.

That night you try very hard not to be an absolute freak about dinner. You cook nearly every day, so the cooking itself isn’t that special, but for some reason your usual rotation doesn’t feel good enough. Seungmin is coming home for the second day in a row, and you don’t want to reuse ingredients, or phone it in when you’d specifically asked him to come home. At the same time, a five-course meal is definitely doing way too much. You stop by the store on the way home and scan the shelves, before wrestling yourself into a compromise and getting ingredients for a meal you both enjoy, but you’re normally too lazy to bother after a long day at work. It’s nothing fancy, just time-consuming, but you’re in such high spirits that the labor doesn’t even feel harrowing.

Seungmin gets home a few minutes before you’re properly done, with the pot on the stove ticking down steadily as you wash dishes and spoons. Seungmin greets you as he walks in but vanishes quickly down the hall to shower and change into inside clothes. By the time he reappears, you’re all but done, and you’ve never been more satisfied with yourself as you dish the food into two bowls and set them on the table. Sure, maybe it’s “playing housewife” a little bit, but you don’t even care. If playing housewife is this rewarding, you might have to start doing it more often.

Seungmin raises his eyes as the dinner you prepared.

“Didn’t you complain that this is hard to make?” he asks. You shrug.

“Felt like cooking today,” is all you say. “No biggie.”

Seungmin sits down at the table, pushes his plate to the side, and looks directly at you. “Y/n. What’s going on?”

Anxiety shoots through you. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. I’m not oblivious. You’ve been acting off all day.”

“Off?”

“Visiting me at the company? Cooking this fancy dinner? It’s not like you at all.”

“That’s not me being ‘off.’ I just missed you, that’s all.”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Is that why?”

“No! I mean, you have. There is no ‘why’. Am I not allowed to miss my boyfriend?”

Seungmin looks distinctly unimpressed. “Nice try. Wanna go again?”

All your good humor from earlier is dissolving into your soup. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not mocking you.”

“I was trying to do something nice for you. I just wanted to spend time with you today. Is that so wrong?”

“It’s not wrong. It’s just unusual for you. When you told me you showed up at the company, I thought something horrible had happened, because you never visited me before.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“That I never visit.”

“Why would that bother me?”

All your anxieties are simmering near the top, threatening to boil over. “Because the other members’ girlfriends visit all the time. I know they do. They have security clearance and everything. But I never do. I don’t even know where you are most days if I wanted to visit you.”

Seungmin frowns. “You’re busy. You have a job you’re at all day, same as me. Some of the other members’ girlfriends work less or have other things going on.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” you mutter. “Maybe I have too much going on.”

Seungmin looks hesitant at this. “If you feel you need to cut back, I’ll support you.”

“Is that what you want? Do you think I should work less?”

“No, I don’t. That’s not my decision anyway.”

“But I just…” You’re cracking, you know you are, you can hear it in your voice- “I just want to be there for you more. I want to be attentive.”

“You are attentive. You’re there for me all the time.”

“I’m not!” It bursts out of you more violently than even you expected. Seungmin is taken aback, eyes widening as you finally break. “I’m so aloof towards you, it’s awful. I never know where you are, or what you’re doing. I never ask you to come home to me. I don’t stay up for you. I don’t visit you. Other girlfriends have bracelets or necklaces they wear for their boyfriends, and I don’t do any of that. No one would even know we were dating, based on how we are now.” You suck in a breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. “I just don’t even know what you get out of being with me. I don’t do anything I’m supposed to do, and you keep letting me get away with it. And I thought if I changed, and I started trying harder, maybe I could fix it before you realize that I don’t deserve you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, humiliation and sadness making you feel dizzy and hot. Now that you’ve said it all out, it sounds ridiculous. It’s not as if you could fix a behavioral pattern with one good day. If your relationship really is rotten through, all you’ve done is draw attention to the problem and made it even worse. Contrasted with how you acted today, the past eleven months must seem downright hollow.

Seungmin sighs. “Y/n, look at me, please.”

You open your eyes and are horrified to see Seungmin looking absolutely mournful where he sits across the table. He looks so aggrieved, so weighed down, and a horrible rock forms in the pit of your stomach.

“First of all,” he says. “I don’t ever want to hear you say again that you don’t deserve me. It’s not true, and I won’t have you putting yourself down like that. You don’t decide what I deserve, I do. And I’ve decided you’re exactly what I want.”

You blink, confused at the turn of events. It’s a very Seungmin thing to say, yes, but in this situation, you didn’t expect him to double down on it so earnestly.

“Second of all, you’re not aloof towards me. I know you love me, and you care for me in your own ways. I also know you have a life outside of me that keeps you busy. I’m grateful for that. I would feel horrible if you spent a significant amount of your day just waiting around for me when we both know I can’t always be there.”

“That’s different,” you can’t help but interject. “You’re an idol. You can’t help that you’re busy.”

“You can’t help being busy either. Being an idol isn’t any more important than any other job. You have responsibilities too.”

You deflate, sagging in your chair. He takes this as license to continue.

“Third, I didn’t think you were the type to wear jewelry every day. If you want me to get you something, I can do that. I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to wear something just because I bought it and it was expensive. Someday, if we get married, you’ll wear my ring, and that’ll be enough for me.”

He’s right. You don’t usually wear jewelry every day, and you would feel bad about not wearing something he’d specifically bought you as a gift. You’re starting to feel more and more foolish as this conversation continues.

Thankfully, his itemized list ends there, and he leans forward, dark eyes fixed on yours. He doesn’t look angry, or upset, just focused. Leave it to Seungmin to mind-map his way through a relationship crisis.

“Can you tell me what brought this on? It’s unlike you to be insecure. If I’ve done something to make you think you’re not good enough for me, I’d like to know so that I can change my behavior.”

You let out a long breath, giving up the fight in the face of Seungmin’s rationality.

“I had lunch with Ahrin the other day. I was complaining about how you’re so busy these days, I rarely see you. Ahrin said you guys actually haven’t been that busy. It made me realize I don’t actually know your schedule, like what you do all day, much less outside of work. And I also realized part of the reason I haven’t seen you much is because I never ask to see you. You have no reason to spend time with me when it seems like I don’t even want you around.” Your voice trails off as you continue, shame sticking the words in your throat.

Seungmin hums, thinking. He lifts his hand up and stretches it toward you, your sign to extend your own hand so he can lace your fingers together. You oblige, and the contact settles you a bit.

“I have never thought for one second that you didn’t want me around. I don’t take offense to you not knowing my schedule either. I know I don’t talk about work much. It might be a flaw of mine.”

“Hyunjin is always playing these little games with Ahrin to get her to come see him. But I’ve always felt that you’d prefer I stay away when you’re working.”

Seungmin hesitates again. “That might be right. That’s not because I don’t love spending time with you, though. It’s the opposite.”

“I…don’t follow.”

“Whatever you believe, the other members’ partners don’t really come around all that much, but when they do come around, it’s not really a big event. They’re just spectators. Like when Ahrin visits us at practice, it’s easy for Hyunjin to pretend she’s not there and keep working. I couldn’t do that. If you were in the room with me, I don’t think I could be as focused as I normally am. I’d be distracted because all my attention would be on you and how you’re doing. That’s why I’ve never encouraged you to visit.”

A small hysterical part of you wants to twist his words somehow, to start a fight about him calling you a ‘distraction’ and all it implies, but you know what he meant. It’s a fairly big admission he’s given, that he couldn’t keep control of himself if you were in his eyeline. It’s…unexpectedly flattering.

“I fluster you that badly?” you ask, half-teasing, half-curious. But Seungmin answers you dead serious.

“Embarrassingly so. When I went back upstairs with the cupcakes, Minho-hyung didn’t give me a second to breathe before commenting on it.”

You find yourself grinning. “Really?”

“Don’t laugh at me. It’s unkind.”

“I’m not laughing,” you say, even though you definitely are. Seungmin rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat or embarrassment in them.

“You could at least be sorry about it.”

“I’m very sorry that I got you bullied by your bandmates,” you say dutifully. “I promise I will do my best not to place you in such a compromising position again.”

“You can visit me if you want,” Seungmin rebuffs. “I can take a little teasing if you really want to see me. My point is just that you shouldn’t feel like you have to because the other girlfriends do.”

“Okay.” You nod, then venture out into the part of the conversation you’ve been avoiding. “If that’s all true, why do you stay away so often? It’s okay if you just have other things to do, but why do you let me think you’re at work if you aren’t?”

You aren’t sure what he’s going to say to this. You believe in his loyalty, always, and you don’t think he truly intended to lie to you, but you still can’t figure out who’s to blame here, and how this miscommunication has persisted between you for so long.

To your surprise, Seungmin’s ears flare red. His grip tightens on your hand, like he’s fighting himself, but you can tell he answers you honestly when he says,

“I was worried I was imposing on you.”

You blink. “Imposing?”

Seungmin is no longer meeting your eyes, his gaze lowered to the table. “Like I said, I don’t want you to constantly be waiting around for me. I don’t want you to get used to having me around, and then when I go on tour, or get busy with activities, you feel my absence stronger. Then, when I come back, I become an inconvenience as you try to fit me into your life again. It’s hard, and it’s unfair. I thought it would be easier to try to keep the same level of involvement all the time, so that you didn’t miss me too badly when I was gone, and I didn’t annoy you too much when I came back.”

You hardly let him finish his sentence before you say, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You keep your attention from me so that I won’t miss you later? How does that make any sense? I miss you regardless. That’s the point of being in a relationship.”

Seungmin winces, and you decide to dial back your indignance. He’d spoken to you evenly, and you could do the same for him.

“Sorry. I just meant that you shouldn’t keep yourself away from me in an effort to spare my feelings. I know what I signed up for when we started dating. I know some times will be easier than others. I appreciate your efforts to mitigate that, but this isn’t the way. You being gone so often is all the more reason to be overt and intense when we do have time together. It’s fine to not want to spend all your free time with me, but don’t ever think wanting to be around me is imposing, or hurting me in some way, because it’s not.”

Seungmin looks properly chastised. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll be around more.”

“And I’ll ask for you more. We both need to stop holding ourselves and each other back.” You let out a little laugh. “We’re acting like it’s embarrassing to be in love or something.”

“Hyunjin said the same thing to me once.”

“Hyunjin is smart in exactly one area,” you acquiesce. “Ahrin is a lucky girl.”

“Comparison is the thief of joy,” Seungmin mutters. You lean forward over your cold dinner and press a kiss to Seungmin’s cheek.

“I didn’t say she was luckier than me.”

You both grin.

-/-

Next week, Monday. You wake up at your usual time, put on coffee, make breakfast. You clear your entire inbox because fuck the sales department, they can say whatever they need to say in the meeting this afternoon. You set your phone down and enjoy the warmth of the tea you brewed and watch the sun come up outside your living room window.

Seungmin gets up, gets his shoes and coat, and doubles back around.

“Good morning,” you say.

“Good morning.”

“Busy day?”

“Nope. I’m free after lunch.”

“Lucky. I have an awful meeting from two to four.”

“You’ll do fine,” Seungmin says. “Sales isn’t the boss of you.”

“They actually are,” you groan, and Seungmin laughs at your dismay. He kisses you goodbye, tells you to be safe. You tell him you love him. The front door opens and closes.

At around 1pm, your phone buzzes with a text.

Are you busy?

Eh. Why?

I’m in your lobby.

No way.

You grab your security pass and head towards the elevators, watching every floor tick down until it lets you out on the ground floor. Seungmin is sitting in a chair in reception, holding a white cardboard box. When he sees you approach him, he grins and holds it up.

“Got time for cupcakes?”

Your smile is so wide it’s splitting your face in half. “Follow me. The break room is on the fourth floor.”

-/-

“I didn’t even know you knew what building I work in.”

“I looked it up on NAVER.”

“Of course you did.”

“Why reinvent the wheel when someone invented the iPhone, y/n.”