#make sure you read the chap before but warning SMUT

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 02

-SO I HOPE AND PRAY YOU MAKE IT WORTH IT.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊ 3.2k

author’s note ┊ YAPPEE! part two officially out- so sorry for the wait EUEUEU… hehe hope the things that happen in this chapter make up for it being a few days late :p also, i will not be accepting anymore tag list requests! this is due to the amount of users that i can tag per post T^T … nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy the chap! happy reading :D 

p.s. i will be blocking the people who message me (rudely) to “hurry up” with the next chapters. i understand most, if not, all of you are excited to read the next chapters, but please do understand that i have my own schedule too :,)

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YOU HELD YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS, GROANING INTO YOUR PALMS. In front of you sat the thorn at your side, Ken Sato. He had just finished reading- or rather, skimming through the files you had stayed up compiling. You peeked at him through your fingers before standing up to erase yet another column of pros and cons from the board. 

Taking a swig from the energy drink he had brought you, you shake your head as you try to figure out what to do next. Truth be told, you were just eager to leave. You had two weeks left until you could finally let these burdensome tasks go, all you wanted was for Ken to go along with your last few instructions so as to make your exit easier. 

“I don’t get what’s so hard about this, Ken.” You say, turning back around to face him. “You pick a girl, you ‘date’ her for a bit, and then you ‘split up’ amicably. Simple as that.” 

He tilted his head at you, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Oh sure, yeah. Let me just go out with a random girl and act like I’m head over heels in love with her.”

“Yes, exactly that.” You reply with the same tone, going back to your seat. “Now you’re getting it!”

He rolls his eyes, placing the stapled papers back on your desk. “I get it, I fucked up. But I still don’t get why you’re so…” He pauses, pressing his lips into a thin line and gesturing with his hands. “Persistent in actually trying to get me to date someone for the sake of my screw up.”

“And I don’t get why I have to keep reminding you of why I need to do this.” You lean back into your chair while pinching the bridge of your nose. “You were the one who-”

“-’Told the entire world you were in love’, yes I know! You’ve only said that like, what, a hundred times over?” He cuts you off, crossing his arms. “I know what I did. But I also know that I have a choice in this matter, don’t I?”

You go to reply but stop when you register his words. You knew that, obviously, which is why you had multiple plans. You were giving him the chance to choose, were you not? The various notes and drafted project plans were proof of that. They were all laid out right in front of him, what more could he possibly want? You look at him briefly, your eyes scanning his expression before darting back to the things scattered atop your desk. 

“I’m giving you choices.” You say flatly, slowly looking back up at him. 

“No, you’re giving me options and expecting me to choose.” He counters, his hand gesturing towards the papers. “I’m talking about my choice. My plan, suggestion, whatever you want to call it.”

“So what is your plan? Because as far as I’m concerned, you don’t seem to actually have one.” You reply, brows slightly furrowing at his stubbornness. 

“And that’s the point. I don’t need a plan,” He pauses, pointing his finger directly onto one of the outlines and it towards you. “I just need to ride it out.”

You let out a scoff, stunned at how Ken was still treating this so lightly. The corners of your lips tug up a bit, and you end up letting out a soft laugh in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I, though?” He leans back, maintaining eye contact with you. “It’s the choice that takes the least effort. And besides, I thought you liked it when I kept things private.”

“Oh, don’t circle this back to me.” You say, pointing a finger at him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to address your little mishaps?” 

“Yes, I do. Which is why I’m trying to help you.” He says a-matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising as if to emphasize how much he understands what your job entails. 

“No, you don’t.” You argue back, mimicking his crossed arms.

“Were you always this stubborn?” Ken says, catching you off guard. 

You feel your features scrunch up in confusion and annoyance, narrowed eyes slanting even more as this back-and-forth of yours keeps going. “You’re one to talk.” 

At that he smirks slightly, rolling his eyes as he pokes a tongue into his cheek. The audacity of this man to act annoyed. You think, all the while you continue to glare at him. You close your eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, taking in a deep breath as your nails dig into your palms. Despite wanting to calm yourself down, his words rang in your head like an unwanted mantra.

His choice.

Would it be so bad to give Ken free reign on this? Granted, he was the one who caused it. Why be the one to clean up his mess- again, for that matter? You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head once more. You could never understand how his mind worked, and you figured you probably never would. You tapped against the desk with your pen, bouncing your leg as you pondered on what to do. 

Your plan? Everything sets sail smoothly, with only the liability being either party slips up. Which, in your defense, you could cover up in the blink of an eye. His plan? No plotline with room for spontaneous detail sharing whenever he pleased. More work for you, more freedom for him. You stopped tapping then, clicking your pen into place. In your moment of contemplation, you had realized then this entire thing was useless. His plan, your plan, all the plans. None of them mattered, not if the end result was going to be the same. 

Goddamnit, you hated Ken Sato. 

You flip one of the stapled pieces of paper over, drawing over the blank side. “The start of your first full season with the Giants is in less than fourteen days. By then we would need to have already released another press release- ideally before your conference.” 

Ken jumps slightly, caught off guard by your sudden return to work mode. He watches as you line up different keywords with boxy arrows, all of which lead up to the ‘end’ of his lie. “What exactly am I looking at?”

You flash him a smile, albeit a fake one, and slide the paper to him. “Your plan.” Leaning back in your chair, you make a show of stretching your arms. “You’re right, we should go with your plan.” 

He laughs then, noting the lingering hints of sarcasm in your tone. “[Y/N], what are you doing?”

“Giving you your choice.” You reply with a small shrug. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” He says, his smile slightly faltering. “But… why?”

“It’s your life, isn’t it?” You tilt your head to the side, your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Now it’s his turn to be confused and annoyed. The way he understood this, you were letting him win. You were waving a white flag, surrendering to his incessant pleading. He scrunched his brows, still trying to process your words. You continued to sit there, waiting eerily patiently for him to respond. 

“And you’re serious about this?” He questions once more, hesitant to believe that you of all people would back down so quickly. 

“Mhm,” You hum, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m just your assistant. Well, for two more weeks, that is.” 

He felt like he was being played. He blinked at you, mouth slightly agape. The you that was sitting in front of him now was different from the you thirty-six hours ago. Yesterday, you were desperate for him to follow your plans. He recalled your words, ‘If you're actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.’ But now that you’re telling him to do exactly what he wants, he’s nervous. 

Nervous that he finally caused you to hate him for good. 

“If you’re done sitting there like I said something stupid, you can go. Coach wants to see the team, it’d be in your best favor not to be on his bad side two weeks before playoffs.” You say, not even looking at him directly. 

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Right, well, okay.” He stands up, sliding himself into his jacket before walking towards the door. “See you, then.”

You only hum in response, still not looking at him as you continue fixing all of the papers on your desk. Just before he’s fully out of your office though, you call out to him. 

“Yeah?” He answers immediately, peeking his head through the door. 

“Have fun riding it out.” You say, flashing him a smile. A real one, this time.

A WEEK HAD GONE BY JUST LIKE THAT. Surprisingly, Ken had been able to keep things under control. Even his comments to street paparazzis were concise, almost as if you were the one who coached him his lines. While you had expected him to do nothing, just as he suggested, you hadn’t expected him to last this long without an intervention from you. 

You sat by your window as your body sunk into your armchair, your eyes threatening to close. The early blue hues of the morning had started to break through the night sky, the clouds slowly parting to clear the sky. You typed vigorously against the keys of your laptop, eyes following the blinking cursor to prevent yourself from falling asleep right then and there. 

You had been up for hours constructing your updated résumé, keeping all your needed information concise and in one page. Despite having a well-rounded history in regards to jobs, the lingering fear of keeping yourself afloat was an inevitable burden you were scared of accidentally fulfilling. You had family, yes, but relying on them did something to your pride. Most especially since you had been low-contact ever since you abruptly moved to the city. 

Seeking help from friends was another option that was off the table. In all your years of working in the entertainment industry, the amount of people you had let into your life dwindled as you realized people’s true intentions. You had merely three people left in your life, and that was by far more than enough to keep you sane throughout the rest of your life.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Truth be told, despite the factor of having to deal with Ken, this job has been the best in terms of your benefits. He was much like you- little circle, low-contact. Even his own team was a limited number, leaving you to deal with other jobs and tasks that would otherwise be done by different people. Yes, the workload was tiring, but the pay was enough to keep you alive ten times over. You could only say a silent prayer to whoever was listening to bless you once more once you let go of this for good. 

You sat back, finally satisfied with the way your page was laid out. You faced towards your window, closing your eyes as your breathing steadied. The birds were starting to chirp, the sun casting a foggy glow through the clouds. In this moment of solitude, you allowed yourself to relax; it was more than deserved. Not like anything could happen in your sleep, right?

WRONG, SO VERY WRONG. You groaned as you were awakened by the continuous buzzing of your phone. At first you had thought it was an alarm you had accidentally forgotten to shut off, but when it continued on, you eventually had to force yourself to wake up.

The sun was high up now, bright rays peeking through your blinds. You squinted, uncurling yourself from your chair as you got up and stretched. You yawned, scratching your head as you finally unlocked your phone. You were greeted with an endless stream of notifications, your mail app and other social media platforms pinging by the second. There was also the factor of the loud noise outside, though you made it out to be some kind of commotion or parade. 

Your screen then flashed the caller ID of an unknown number, followed by another sea of notifications. You blink yourself awake, now slightly worried at just how much texts and emails you had been receiving. Did Ken do something? Did someone die? Did Ken die?

Before you could even open any of the messages, you hear the familiar ringtone of one of your closest friends. You slide to answer, pressing your phone up to your ear. “Ami? What’s up, what’s wrong?”

She laughed, and you could practically see her shaking her head at you. “I’m guessing you just woke up? Check literally any news outlet right now, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

What the hell was going on? You mumbled something in reply, putting her on speaker as you did what she asked. 

You wished you hadn’t. In bold, bright red letters, the article’s headline read:

Extra Innings in the Press Box: Ken Sato’s Hidden Romance with Assistant Revealed! 

What you saw next nearly had you chucking your phone into the nearest wall. Attached right under the headline was you and Ken. You and Ken. You let out a curse, and you could hear the sighs coming from Ami on the other line. The picture was clearly shot from a hidden vantage point, the branches from the trees blocking the camera proof of it. Despite the distance, though, yours and Ken’s faces were clearly visible. 

“What the fuck!” You yell, now fully awake eyes wide in confusion. “When was this released? H-How did-”

“Two hours ago. Apparently some passerby sold the picture to the press, and said passerby just happened to be paparazzi.” Ami cuts you off, her tone serious yet concerned. “Trust me, if I had known something like this was going to be released, I would’ve done something about it.”

You left your phone on the kitchen counter as you paced back and forth, your hand glued to your forehead as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Obviously it wasn’t true, you of all people knew that. But nobody else did, and that was the problem. 

“Ami what the hell is happening?” You manage to breathe out, still pacing. “This is all so-”

“Much? Yeah, I know.” She cuts you off again, and you can hear the bustling sounds from her office. “My own publisher is on my neck for this, God only knows what you’re going through. Are you okay? If you need help this could technically be classified as invasion of-”

“I do need help because this whole thing isn’t-” You start, but are ultimately cut off again when you hear the sounds grow louder outside. 

“[Y/N]? ‘You there?” Ami’s muffled voice calls out as you walk towards your window, peeking down to where the commotion was coming from. 

“Oh shit.” You gasp out, eyes widening even more as you realize the noises were coming from the sea of reporters and photographers waiting outside your townhouse. 

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the window with a hand to your mouth. This cannot be happening, this had to be some sick nightmare. Stumbling towards your phone, you mumbled some reply about needing to go before abruptly hanging up the call. Rude, perhaps, but Ami would understand. 

In the span of two hours of that damn article being released, eager and greedy gossip outlets had found your address and swarmed your only safe space. You held your phone close to your chest, running up to your room as you tried to catch your breath. You closed your eyes once more, breathing in and out heavily. The more you tried to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, the more you slowly realized that it actually was. 

You opened your phone once more, muting all your socials and other messaging apps. You needed to think, and you needed to act fast. By memory, your fingers automatically scroll for Ken’s legal team. Having gotten him out of falsified defamations multiple times, acting during these types of situations was almost a second habit. But this didn’t involve just him, it involved you. You were a part of this mess, you couldn’t be the one to solve it.

A mantra of curses conjured up in your head, and you delete the previous number you had dialed in. Think, damnit. Think, think, think. You thought to yourself, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prayed for a solution to be presented to you. An alternative popped up into your brain then. Albeit that alternative was stupid, but it was something. 

You dialed his number, anxiously waiting as it rang. 

KEN WAS ON HIS BREAK, SITTING ON THE BENCH AS HE WIPED THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD. Playoffs were about to start, and Shimura was working them to the bone to make sure everyone had their head in the game. He let out a deep breath through his nose, arms resting on his knees as tried to calm down after a few laps around the stadium. The rest of his teammates seemed to be reacting obnoxiously over something, though he didn’t have the energy to feign enthusiasm. 

One of his teammates teasingly nudged him then, giving him a playful grin. “Your secret’s out, huh? All this time you were with her.”

Ken laughed it off, still oblivious to the fact that nearly all of Japan now knew the face of his supposed girlfriend. He noted the specification in his tone, as if he were referring to a mutual friend of theirs. Which, again, was impossible- nobody but you knew the secret he was hiding. He gave them a nod before returning back to his own space. 

He felt his watch buzz against his wrist, and he was all but surprised to see you calling him on your day off. He sat up straight then, grabbing his phone to answer the call. He had to admit, he answered a little too excitedly. Or nervously. He couldn’t differentiate the two, not when it involved you. Ever since the start of this stunt, something in him shifts whenever you or anything related to you gets mentioned. He brushed it off as some sort of familiarity attachment, the weight of your sudden resignation still heavy on his shoulders.

Was he sad to let you go? Maybe, he wasn’t entirely sure. Aside from the fact that he had Mina, you did your job well. You knew the ins and outs of everything he liked and disliked, you kept him organized and on track. Sure, losing you would be another hurdle he would have to get over, but that doesn’t mean he would be… impotent without you. He clears his throat before he finally brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hey-” He starts, but stops when he notices the frantic panic in your voice. “Woah, hey slow down. What happened?”

“You happened.” You reply then, albeit through a shaky breath. 

“What?” He questions, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s exactly as I said. You happened,” You paused, taking in a deep breath. “And now I need your help. Please.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[ketaundkrawall]

Keta und Krawall ☽｡⋆ Joost Klein

Summary: a stupid accident leads to something you didn’t expect to happen.

Warnings: 18+ but read at your own risk, smut (lmao), alcohol consumption (mentioned), drug use (don’t do that guys), oral (m! receiving), public shenanigans in a club toilet and I guess that’s it

WC: 1k

A/N: abow guys here we are this is my first EVER published work lmao so pls bear with me. This shits not proofread bc I’m lazy. Also pls bear with me bc English isn’t my first language 👹

18+ under the cut!

To say the music that was blasting through the speakers in club was loud would definitely be an understatement.

“Want another one?” Helen, your best friend, screams over the music.

A nod and she was gone, leaving you swinging your hips to the music alone.

Nights like these were your favorite. Sweaty bodies moving in sync together to the beats of the music, mixing with the feeling and the high of just being free.

The sudden feeling of wetness against your back pulled you straight back out of your little bubble into reality.

Turning around you were met with a pair of blue eyes, widened in shock. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

You could barely hear him say a sorry, since the music was way too loud.

“Fuck!” Giving him one last glare, you stormed off into the restrooms of the small club you were at.

It was small and definitely looked like it had seen better days. But you didn’t care.

Taking off your soaked shirt you let out a deep sigh, leaking against the sink.

“Hey.”

Startled, you turned around to look at the source of the voice coming from somewhere.

The guy who just poured his whole drink over your outfit was standing there in the doorway, scratching the back of his head. His blonde hair was messy, hanging in his eyes.

Sweat was covering his face as he looked at you. “I’m sorry about- uh that.” He said, nodding at the shirt in your hands.

“Oh it’s fine.”

He could definitely hear the venom in your voice. “Can I make it up to you somehow?”

That was surprising. Eying the man up and down you couldn’t suppress a grunt forming on your red colored lips.

“You’re Joost Klein.” That wasn’t a question.

Joost let out a small chuckle. “Alive and breathing I guess. So? Can I?”

Nodding, you grinned at him. “Actually yeah. Got 5€?”

Taking a small baggy out of your back pocket you looked up at him.

“Uh yeah sure.” Joost did look kinda confused as he looked at the small baggy in your hands while handing you the bill.

“Ever took ketamine?” You asked as you poured out a line on sink.

Seeing his adam’s apple bop in nervousness you knew what answer was coming. “No.”

“That’s okay. You don’t need to.” You said while sniffing the line, throwing your head back and closing your eyes before looking at him.

Holding the rolled bill out to him you grinned. “Unless you want to?”

And he didn’t need to be told twice. Laying out another line, you watched him sniff it.

Biting your lip as he threw his head back, exhaling softly.

The smile on your face didn’t fade as he looked into your eyes, making you both laugh.

When the laughing slowly started to bubble down, neither of you knew what was happening next.

Joosts hands were suddenly on your hips, pulling you into his lap while your mouths clashed together into a heating kiss.

Feeling his tongue on your chapped lips, you opened them, giving him permission to slip it inside, fighting for dominance with your tongue.

And then your brain stopped working.

His growing hard on was suddenly very prominent against your thigh, only being separated by your tights and his jeans.

Pulling away your eyes met his again, silently asking for permission.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “Go for it schatje (baby).”

Not breaking eye contact you got up from his lap and let yourself fall to your knees in front of him, pulling at his belt and opening it with shaky fingers.

Helping you, Joost opens the button of his jeans and pulls the down to his ankles along with his boxers, freeing his erection.

Your eyes widened in shock. How was that even supposed to fit in your mouth?

“Are you okay?” Joosts voice brings you back to earth.

God, you probably just looked like an idiot staring at his cock.

“O-oh yeah just- fuck!” You exclaimed. “Never had one this big.”

That made him chuckle. “Well then better go for it before someone comes in. Suck my dick bitch.”

Rolling your eyes you wrapped your hand around his shaft, pumping it slowly. Keeping what he just said were lyrics from one of his songs.

He looks even more angelic from the spot you are in right now. His hair still messy, eyes closed and head drawn back against the wall as you worked him in your hand.

Dipping your head down you finally worked up enough courage to take him in your mouth.

The taste of salty precum hit your taste buds instantly, making you moan out around him.

His hands are now both on your head, holding your hair out of your face into a messy ponytail.

“You like that don’t you? Sucking my cock in a bathroom where everyone could just walk in.”

And then he thrusted his hips upward, taking you aback and making you gag in surprise.

Joost slowly starts to fuck your throat. And you liked it.

He slowly gets faster, your hands gripping his thighs, eyes watering as he starts chasing his high.

Letting out a breathy moan, he looks down at you, watching his dick disappear between your lips.

Suddenly he pulls you off. Wrapping a hand around his thick shaft he strokes himself a few more times before spilling his seed all over your beautiful and fucked face. “Here it comes prinses (Princess).”

As the first drops of cum hit your cheek your lips turned into a smile.

Opening your mouth you try to catch some of it before he lets go of you, slumping back against the wall and covering his face.

“I usually don’t do this you know.” The embarrassment was visible in his voice.

Getting up, you take a wipe to clean yourself up. “Neither do I.”

Leaning against the sink again you watched him putting himself back into place. A soft sigh escaping your lips as you turn around to leave.

“Hey.” His voice is soft. “What’s your name?”

Stopping you turn around one last time “Y/N.”

And with that you leave him alone.

The sound of Keta und Krawall by Ikkimel is all you can hear again as you walk back into the club.

—

A/N: if you made it to the end, thank you. Hopefully there’s more to come 🥹

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 5

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @undercuver @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo

“meet me after practice?”

Abby asked you as she parked her car on the campus parking lot and opened the door for you, sticking her hand out to help you hop out easier you really didn’t want to be so down bad for her..but shit her sweet and caring nature definitely wasn’t helping that.

“hmm i don’t know..Ellie still has some things at my place and i want her completely gone by the end of the week. If i can’t make it before friday i’ll catch you at Jesse’s party kay?”

you gave her a long goodbye kiss with little smiles in between how can someone be so damn cute?? you asked yourself as abby locked eyes with you, still caged in her gracious arms slowly losing yourself in the ocean of her eyes. If you could you’d drown and die in them. If only

“i’ll make sure to see you before friday, doll..don’t miss me too much though”

both of you laughed as you hit her playfully, she let you out of her grasp and walked you towards your first lecture of the day, your best friend was already waiting for you at the door raising her eyebrows as you approached her. She immediately nodded the way Abby squeezed your waist as you said your goodbyes and parted ways in the hallway, her eyes never leaving you until you were out of sight.

“you’ve got some explaining to do young lady”

💫

you spent the whole lecture with updating her on everything that went down last night. She was always on your side as you explained what happened between you and Ellie, you were lying if you said that you completely moved on from her already of course not..fuck it’s not as easy as you thought it would be.

Even though everything felt easy with Abby, she distracted you in the best way possible, she had everything that Ellie didn’t give you, she made you forget how miserable Ellie made you feel but you still felt it crashing down on you the moment you separated. Ellie’s reaction to you hanging out with Abby didn’t help either, you were mad at yourself for letting her still have an affect on you…but you won’t let her get to you, she’s not yours anymore.

Still Ellie managed to trouble your thoughts as you got through your day, you decided to unblock her and sent her a quick message..you needed her out of your life as soon as possible.

get the rest of your things tonight, i want you gone

i’ll be there,love

you almost gagged at her text, the nerve she had using the cute nickname she’d always call you..well before dina entered the picture obviously. You felt bad for her, you really did ..you could almost see how Ellie gave her empty promises and sweet nothings…she sure knew how to make a girl fall in love..too bad that she’ll be the one dying alone if she doesn’t change her ways.

Luckily that wasn’t your problem anymore, you thought as you finished up your notes for upcoming exams, happy with your work and progress. You felt free, you’ll never have to deal with the pressure of being enough for Ellie or anyone anymore. Pride swelled up in your chest as you checked your makeup in your little hello kitty compact mirror. Maybe you were imagining things but you noticed your skin was glowier than ever..radiant even,your blemishes were clearing up nicely and your lips weren’t as chapped as before..they were pillowy soft as you rubbed them together to gloss up your lips after you reapplied your yummy strawberry lipgloss..it’s like your body was detoxifying from Ellie.

Your weren’t the only one that noticed it.

Your best friend has always been your biggest fan dang Abby’s been doing you good huh?? she was so right. She kept showering you with compliments the entire day, enamored with the way you carried yourself so confidently and secure about yourself. She desperately wanted needed to be like you one day.

Nora, Abby’s friend and basketball teammate, also asked about what perfume you were using because you smelled so good as you walked past her! Abby didn’t lie when she said that you smelled like a vanilla sugar cookie.

Some girls you’ve never talked to before asked you about your haircare routine while you fixed it in the bathroom. God i wish my hair was so healthy and shiny like yours! you happily shared all your favorite products and how to use them properly.

Your friend Jesse, who was unironically Dina’s Ex boyfriend from their high school years said that you look like you ‘picked up pilates’ in one of your shared lectures. Hey just because of my tracksuit?

“did you know that our exes are dating each other though?”

“don’t remind me, just saw their hard launch stories on ig”

he opened Ellie’s instagram account and handed you his phone to look at her stories, everything was full of Dina. She never bothered to post anything about you in the last years. You scoffed as you gave the phone back.

“Well at least we’re the hot exes”

Ellie rolled her eyes at your comment, she’s been creeping up on you from the moment you climbed out of Abby’s car, always in your shadows without you knowing, right now she was sitting right behind you. She really didn’t want to be with you..but she couldn’t exactly be without you either so you could imagine how excited she got as you told her to pick up some stuff that she left on purpose for this exact reason. She needed to see you, she needed to feel you. Rage consumed her brain knowing that Anderson could rip you away from her like it was nothing. She was physically with Dina but her soul was still intertwined with yours fuck..she remembers how she accidentally called out for you instead of her as she fucked Dina into her mattress during one of their many study sessions, at this point she was begging Ellie to break up with you for the sake of their relationship but she refused, only taking actions as Dina threatened to break it off if she didn’t end things with you immediately. So she did. And now? She was in shambles, a miserable wreck without your love and she regretted it so deeply. Seeing you so carefree and happy without her left a bitter taste of jealousy in her mouth. It wounded her ego even. Maybe she was slowly losing her fucking mind.

“Lecture’s over, Williams”

The professor shouted as he packed his things and left the room. Ellie was left alone in the empty room, she was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice you leaving. Fuck it she’ll be over at your place very soon.

💫

You arrived at home in the late afternoon, your best friend offered you a ride home and dropped you off after getting a sweet treat from your local bakery.

text me after practice <3

you sent abby a quick text as you devoured the sweet sugary goodness.

There was still some time left until Ellie arrived so you decided to do some chores that you’ve been avoiding and changed into a fresh set of soft pink pijamas. You were starting to feel like yourself again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

ding!

you grabbed your phone hoping that Abby replied but it was Ellie instead.

here

you forced yourself up from your comfortable position on the couch to open the door for Ellie. You didn’t want to admit it but she looked good dressed in beat up pants and a white tank top, tattooed arm on display. Her emerald eyes glued on your figure as you lead her to the cardboard box you stuffed with all of her remaining belongings, hoping to speed up the awkward process.

“why are you so tense, love? scared of wanting me?”

her tone was mean and degrading, what was her fucking problem? she broke up with you not the other way around.

“Ellie just take the fucking box and leave”

she approached you, getting closer and closer until your back hit the wall unable to escape her any longer. Her hot breath hit your neck as she took in your sweet scent, her hands slowly found their way to your lower back, sneaking around your lower waist.

“tell me you don’t want me”

she whispered in that low voice that made your stomach flip, her lips almost brushing yours only a few inches away. You felt like sinking your teeth into the forbidden fruit..a short term sweetness that would rot you from the inside and kill you in the most painful way possible.

“Ellie don’t…”

your whined, suddenly unsure about your feelings towards her. Sure you hated her with all your heart but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s still hot as fuck standing right in front of you with her stupid green eyes and that dumb half up half down hairstyle you loved so much..it was messing with your head, you felt hot and hazy, light headed even. Fuck you were going to crack right there and then, just as you were about to give yourself to Ellie your phone lit up.

Incoming call from ‘Abby 🤍’

you managed to escape from Ellie as the sound of your ringtone distracted her for a minute, mentally curing herself out fucking hell she was so close.

You answered the call quickly.

“open the door baby”

oh shit

🎀

to be continued!!

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 22: Aftercare

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Aftercare (🌼✨)

Summary: Matt takes care of you after a particularly rough session.

Warnings: Heavy allusions to smut (18+), mentions of unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, aftercare, fluff, light subspace

Word Count: 604

A/n: The next few prompts will come over the next couple of days. I thought I'd get them all done during October, but unfortunately, life got in the way. I'll also start cross-posting on AO3 again once all Fictober fics are out there. So, don't worry, you'll get them, but it will be a few days into November until we're done.

Read Me On AO3! (Coming soon)

You lie bonelessly tangled in silk sheets.

Hours he spent worshipping at the altar between your legs. Hours he spent pounding into you with his cock from behind until he could no longer hold himself up, fucking you deeper into the mattress. At some point, you must have even lost your voice from how the countless orgasms he gave you tore a scream of his name deep from your throat. 

“Here,” Matt murmurs, holding the bottle of cold water to your chapped lips. “Hey. Sweetie, look at me. Stay with me.”

You can barely make out his silhouette in the dark, but even drenched in sweat and with his hair disheveled, he looks like a dream.

“There you go. Hi.” He smiles. “Can you take a sip for me?” Shaky fingers reach for the bottle, and you try to swallow some of the liquid without making a mess. You feel like a child, unable to do anything by herself, but his patience remains unwavering. 

Matt waits until you’ve sufficiently hydrated yourself before gently rolling you back onto your back. He grabs a towel, warm and wet, and starts to wipe the remnants of his cum from your quivering thighs. He’s gentle when he reaches your swollen folds, making sure not to cause you any more discomfort. 

You don’t want to talk—you can’t—and that is fine with him. 

“C’mere.” He wraps a blanket around you. “Do you want me to hold you or would you like to be alone?”

Sometimes, you ask for privacy. Just a few minutes to find back to yourself. Sometimes, you get so overstimulated that even being close to him physically hurts. The things he does to your body are nothing short of unreal, and you don’t always have time to catch up with all the new sensations he manages to pull from you time and time again. 

Tonight thought, you crave him. You crave to be held by him. The words die on your tongue, so you reach out for him instead. 

Matt senses your grabby hands, he could do so from miles away. You’re reaching for him, and it does something to his heart. He slides under the blanket with you, carefully pulling you against his bare chest. “Okay, I’ve got you,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”

You deserve to be taken care of. 

Seconds turn into minutes. His fingers trace invisible patterns on your back. Slowly but steadily, your heartbeat aligns with his. 

“Too much?”

You blink, tilting your head to meet his unfocused hazel eyes; there is always so much guilt, so much uncertainty in them when he can’t quite read you. When he’s scared he might have hurt you. It is a fine line he walks every time he fucks you senseless. 

You manage to weakly shake your head. “It was perfect,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?” He brushes the tip of his thumb along the vein on your temple. 

You smile. “Yeah.”

He loves the way your pulse jumps. The way your heart starts beating faster when he’s around. He loves the sound of your laugh. The smell of your shampoo and perfume. And he loves how you look at him like he’s the only man in the world to you, and he doesn’t have to see to know. 

“I love you,” Matt breathes into the darkness. 

“I love you too,” you say.

Though even without those beautiful three words, he can feel your love in everything you do. In his own way, he sees you, and he could never get tired of the picture his mind has painted of you. 

He could never get tired of you.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ bad luck comes in threes (and in me)

›› nsfw 18+ / 3 part fic

@ace_343 on twt

ch 2 ♡ ch 3

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› naoya zenin x f!reader ›› megumi fushiguro x f!reader ›› toji fushiguro x f!eader ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi / megumi x f!reader x toji ›› naoya x f!reader x megumi + toji ›› started: 1/12/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are close friends. He invites you to his family's estate where you start to notice how bad your luck really is.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, pseudo-incest (they all want y/n, not eachother), harsh language, abuse, power imbalance, dubious consent / rxpe / noncon

‹𝟹 tags: AGED UP CHARACTERS!, au - no deaths, au - toji and megumi are part of zenin clan still, power imblance, degradation, choking, loss of virginity, name calling, pet names, some fluff and LOTS OF SMUT, slight angst, all the zenins want you basically, vaginal, blow jobs, cunnilingus, face sitting, 4some, mdom, fsub, pseudo-incest, meet the family, breeding, cum as lube, cum swapping, light blood, aggressive choking, will update tags as more is added, praise, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: this is a long time in the making. i probably started this fic over a month ago >< i've been working on it more than my lfls fic that i like more. just smthn abt naoya...... (usually i prefer naoya to be subby but this fic is diff oopsies :3!). lmk what y'all think.i'll be updating my other fic real soon but for now, crumbs of this i guess LOL. i was originally going to do a oneshot but it was already starting to get long and i hadn't even progressed much in the plot i have written up x-x so i figured i'd do 3 chaps since it's like the theme >:3 hope y'all like it!!!

i'll be updating tags as it progresses. i'm super excited abt this fic even tho it's like 99% smut. (idk how to write stuff w/o smut oops) what can i say??? 🤌

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 1: Exposed

“So, do you think you can make it?” Megumi asks, taking a sip of his coffee and looking at you inquisitively. “To my family event, the reunion thing, I mean.”

You hadn’t thought about it much. Sipping on your tea, you contemplated. You’ve never met Megumi’s extended family; you had no idea what they would be like. Megumi’s family is huge, and it would be a multi-day event held at their estate. “Oh, what the hell. I have nothing better to do during winter break anyways.”

His face lights up a bit at your confirmation, but Megumi tries his hardest to hide it. You can see the blush creeping across his nose, his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. He was like a little puppy, excited to see you.

“Make sure to bring any nice clothes you want to wear, but there will be pajamas and toiletries provided to you.” He finished his drink and moved to throw his away. “Are you done too?”

You felt bad, you had a little bit of your tea left and he was patiently waiting for you to finish to throw your trash away for you. You hurriedly suck up the remainder of the tea through the straw, and hand him the empty cup. “Thanks, Megs.” You chirp.

Megumi blushes and looks away as he takes your cup from your hands.

--

You’re back at your house, frantically packing last minute before Megumi comes over to pick you up. You’ve always been an overpacker, and you have no idea what to expect. You throw all sorts of garments into a pile that you want to take: casual clothes like leggings and hoodies, dresses and formalwear, and intimates. You blush, picking up matching sets of underwear and bras. You decide to toss them onto the pile anyways, better prepared than not. You didn’t know who you were “preparing” for, but felt your cheeks flush anyways. I’m meeting my close friend’s extended party and I’m packing lingerie, am I a fucking creep? You shake your head, trying to shake the thoughts out too.

You finish stuffing your clothes into your bags, packing some makeup and skincare that they probably wouldn’t have available. Just as you finish zipping your second bag, you hear a loud knock on the front door. It’s Megumi.

You open the door with a soft smile, greeting Megumi. “Thanks for picking me up Megs! Can you help me with my other bag?”

He looks down to where you’re gesturing, noticing the other bag. “Jeez ____, it’s a 3 day party. How many clothes do you need?”

You blush, sheepishly. “I just want to be prepared… y’know?” Megumi huffs and groans before picking up both bags. A lady should never have to carry her own bags, and he noticed it seemed like you were struggling with how heavy these bags were, being packed to the absolute brim.

“T-thanks, Megs.” You croak out as you follow behind him to his car. He doesn’t reply, hoisting your bags in the trunk before slamming it shut. You open the door and sit in the passenger side, buckling your seatbelt with an audible click. He gets in shortly after you, adjusting his seatbelt and turning the car on. 

The silence is thick, but not awkward. You and Megumi were comfortable around each other, not requiring a word to be said as you sat in comfortable silence on the drive to his family’s estate. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you ask Megumi, breaking the silence, “So what are the plans for the event? How big is it going to be, anyways?”

Megumi answers you, not taking his eyes off the road. “It will have pretty much my entire family, extended family, and family friends. There’s lots to do at our estate, from the gardens, movie room, bar room, and more. As for planned events, music and lots of food, maybe dancing?” His tone ends questioningly, he knows his family isn’t particularly fond of frivolous activities like dancing, but there might still be some as more people loosen up.

You nod, taking in his answer. This sounds almost a little exciting. Much better than spending time holed up in your room, studying or watching youtube.

--

Megumi pulled up to the grandiose estate. “Wow Gumi, I knew your family was loaded…. But not THIS loaded,” You gasped in awe. The entire property was large enough to be a mini village. You were shocked, to say the least. The beautiful landscaping, trees, the koi pond that connected into a river surrounding the main building… it was all too beautiful.

“Yeah, they are wealthy on a whole different level,” he responds, as he pops the trunk and retrieves your bags. “Usually they have servants around, but I’ll show you around the estate myself instead.” He starts walking towards the front entrance, you follow him closely behind, not wanting to get lost.

Megumi doesn’t even have to open the door, servants inside let him in as soon as he approaches. He briskly walks along the pavilion, turning left towards a long corridor. You try to match pace, but his long legs gives him an advantage. You take this moment, a few paces behind Megumi, to admire his raven locks bouncing as he walked.

As you’re walking, you pass an entryway, seeing a few figures to your right. Someone clicks their tongue. “I see my cousin Megumi understands,” he starts, eyes following your figure as you walk past him, “that a woman’s place is three steps behind a man’s.” This mysterious man, related to Megumi, smirks as your figure disappears.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s so full of shit it’s festering,” Megumi spits out. He seems to really hate whoever that guy was. Megumi leads you to a room down a quiet corridor and opens the door. “This will be your room for the next few nights,” He announces as he enters the room and sets your bags down. “My room is on the other side of the estate. These are the guest rooms. We can check mine out later, if you’re interested.” He flushes at that last part, looking down and uncomfortably shifting his weight. “Anyways, I have to clean up before dinner in an hour. I’ll be back to see you soon.’

Megumi retreats from your room and closes the door behind him. You decide to unpack, putting things in the drawers and hanging some items in the closet. The room was quite spacious, with its own bathroom attached and adjacent to this room.

You haven’t finished unpacking yet but decided to take a quick shower just to freshen up. You scope out the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind you. Turning the shower on to a scalding hot temp, you wait for it to heat up as steam fills the bathroom. You strip and enter the shower.

--

He stalks the hallway you were walking through but a moment ago. He’s insanely curious as to what you look like up close, intrigued by your fleeting form as you walked by behind Megumi. He wondered if you were his toy, you following Megumi like a puppy definitely gave off that message.

He can still smell a lingering scent of citrus and flowers. He knows it’s you, because women of the clan are usually not permitted to walk this side of the estate anyways. He’s following your trail, like a predator following its prey. He sees the faint glow of light coming from the crack of a door and approaches it.

He knocks once. No response. He knocks twice. Still nothing. Naoya Zenin believed he was a gentleman, but he had his limits. This was his future estate, he believed he had every right to know every single thing going on under this roof.

He lets himself in, and immediately sees the cracked bathroom door, a bit of steam escaping. He hears you humming while taking a shower, and smirks. He silently closes the door, and makes his way towards your plush bed. He sees a bag open, clothes strewn about. Something frilly and lacy catches his eye, and he walks towards the table instead. He picks the article of clothing up, noticing he was holding a black thong, laces and bows, adorned with gems along the thin waistband. He licked his lips, unholy thoughts flooding his brain.

He hears you shut off the shower, and quickly pockets the garment, swiftly moving to sit on the edge of the bed. A few moments pass, and the door of the bathroom swings open. Steam floods your room, quickly dissipating. You have a towel wrapped around your body, still humming as you walk towards your pile of clothes. You had set a specific set on top to put on after your shower. You could have sworn the thong was there, but as you rummaged through your bag the garment was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for these, little miss?” You gasp and turn around to see a man sitting on your bed, holding up your thong with 1 finger, while smirking and eyeing you down. You nearly drop your towel, but regain composure.

“Who are you?” You ask, unsure of why a strange man you’ve never seen before let himself into your room.

“My apologies, doll, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Naoya Zenin. I’m set to be the next heir of the clan and estate,” he smirks, “And I figured I should personally introduce myself to you. It would be impolite of me not to do so. Who are you?”

“I’m _____, Megumi’s friend. He invited me over to meet all his family.” His ears perked up at you mentioning your friendship with Megumi, a devious thought crossing. You were still in your towel, cold air further cooling your already wet skin.

“You didn’t answer my first question, little miss. Were you planning on wearing these?” He practically spins the panties around his finger, staring you down intently. “I didn’t think such a good girl would bring something like this to wear when meeting her friend’s family…” He trails off.

A blushes creeps along your face, you didn’t think someone would know. You didn’t think someone would barge into your room, look through your clothes, and tease you about it. You couldn’t even look Naoya in the eye, shame clearly on display on your features.

“Don’t worry, woman, I won’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t want your close friend, Megumi, to know about this right? I won’t tell; however, my silence has a price.” He finishes his comment, smirking at you. His sultry gaze was locked on you, scanning your body from head to toe. He grinned and licked his lips, thinking about how he could manipulate you.

“What do you mean?” You look up at him, confused and unsure about the situation. “What do I have to do?” At that question, Naoya lifts himself from your bed to make his way towards you. His gaze never once leaving yours, making intense eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and left you trembling. You felt like prey being stalked by a predator.

Naoya is right in front of you now, as he grabs both wrists with his hands and lifts them above your head. You’re startled but have no time to react as he pushes you against a wall, wrists pinned above you. You can feel Naoya’s hot breath tickling your cheek, making you lose all sense of rationality. He grins at you, looking down as he has you in a position you can’t easily free yourself from. Your head hangs low, looking down, trying to stifle your heavy breathing. You don’t want him to know his actions are affecting you.

“I know women are dumb, but seriously, how can you not know what I mean? At least you’re pretty….” He leaves his sentence unfinished, bringing a cold hand to your chin and tilting your head to look at him. “Little miss, I’ll explain it to you once, in an easy way to understand. I want to use you. Your body, specifically. Will you be a good girl and let me? Or do you want me to make you.” Naoya’s tone drops a bit, almost grunting at the end. Thoughts about what “using you” entails floods your mind. You’re inexperienced, but not entirely clueless. Your blush deepens as you look into his eyes, now peering down at you.

You didn’t think being degraded and praised in the span of a few seconds would entice you as much as it would. Normally you’re a very independent woman, fully capable of realizing your own dreams and pursuing your own goals. But something… something about being put down but also called a good girl sent you driving up the wall with insanity. You were hooked near instantly.

“Yes sir,” you meekly respond, looking up at Naoya. Your emotions and lust are on clear display for him, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Good girl.” He smirks. “Just to be clear, I have very specific tastes and like to be pleased in a certain way. Try and make me proud, you dumb whore.” Your cheeks flared red at the insult. “Open your mouth, cunt.”

You made no hesitation to fulfill his command. He still had a firm grip on your chin, leaning down as he spit into your mouth. “Swallow, princess.” He instructs as he pushes your mouth closed. You comply, feeling more heat pooling between your legs. “Good girl,” he purrs as you open your mouth to show him.

He leans back into you, lips crashing into yours. He nips at your bottom lip, drawing a tiny bit of blood as he goes back to kissing you. He can taste the blood mixed with both of your saliva as he forces his tongue into your mouth, trying to push his way into every part of you he can. His hand previously at your chin is moving down toward your neck, resting into a firm grip across your neck. You can still breathe, but the firm pressure while he’s sloppily kissing you elicits a few soft moans from you into his mouth. You can’t tell, but he’s grinning as his grip increases a bit. He pulls away before taunting you, “Do you like that? Huh? Are you a masochist or something?” He’s not relenting, grip strengthening as you’re looking up at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

You’re unable to speak, so you try to nod your head to show him that he’s right. He notices and loosens his grip before moving his hand towards your chest. “Good girl,” he praises you. “I like that.” He leaves kisses in a trail from your lips to your neck, kissing over the faint marks his hands left before. You’re still against the wall, hands above your head, and he released his other grip before picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“Next time, I want to see you wear that slutty fucking lingerie you brought. You’re such a dirty girl.” He peers down at you as you’re left exposed on your bed. He’s crawling above you, pushing you into the mattress. He gives you a few impatient kisses before moving back to your chest, grabbing one of your breasts while his mouth moves to the other. His other hand is fervently roamed your body, moving down your tummy towards your hips and eventually resting on your thigh. His hands were soft but rough trailing along your skin, as if he was searching for something.

Naoya’s hand slips to your inner thigh, just shy of your exposed cunt. He lightly grips it as he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your body as he took his hand from your breast and pushed your thighs apart. He left love bites and marks as he made his way to your cunt, stopping to look up at you. He grinned as he spit on one of his fingers, prodding its way through your folds to find your clit. He’s been with many women, and although he has an arrogant attitude, he does know exactly how to please a woman.

He rubs circles around your clit as his mouth leaves a little bite mark against your inner thigh. You softly moan at the pain as Naoya’s eyes flick up to meet yours. Although you can’t see it, you’re sure he has that asshole smirk of his. Your suspicions are pretty much confirmed when he says “Are you some masochist? Some dumb bitch who likes to be hurt. For real?” You think you heard a laugh as he moved his finger down to your hole, spitting some more before he fucked you with a finger. You didn’t need any more lube, you were practically drenched. He pushed his finger in, feeling how tight your hole was with only one of his fingers.

“You have the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt. I’m impressed. Are you a virgin too?” He looked up at you, expecting an answer.

“Yeah..” You tried to hide your face with your hands, embarrassed at your lack of experience. Naoya saw it differently though. His cock twitched in his pants as you replied, and he started moving his finger inside your tight cunt. He loved hearing the little moans you make as he slipped his finger in and out, a lewd wet sound filling the room. He was trying to get you used to it, but he was getting impatient. He was already working harder for any woman he’s ever been with.

His mouth moved above your clit, tongue flicking around the sensitive bud as he slipped in another long finger into your hole. He curled and scissored his fingers, trying to stretch you as his fingers fucked you faster. Your face was flush with embarrassment as you still tried to contain some of your moans. One more finger slipped in, stretching your walls while he moved above you, face aligned with yours.

He kept fingering your cunt as he aggressively kissed you, biting your lip before he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could feel yourself come closer to the edge, your core tightening. You were moaning into his mouth, arms wrapped around his neck pulling his body closer into yours.

“Fuck... Naoya…” you whined out as you felt the thread about to snap, “I’m gonna—cum!!” His fingers slammed into your cunt as he was leaving marks along your neck. You felt your walls tighten around his fingers as he expertly prepped your cunt for the main event.

“You’re such a good girl… I almost feel bad taking your virginity. Almost.” Naoya takes out his fingers, sucking on a few of them to taste you. He pushes one of his fingers into your mouth, commanding you to taste your own cunt.  “Next time I’ll taste you myself… but I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he’s taking off his shirt and pants, pulling down his briefs to expose his large cock. He moves up above you again, grabbing your legs by the ankle as his body is pushed against yours. He’s putting you in a mating press. He moves the tip to your entrance and spits on his cock before slowly pushing inside, feeling your tight walls around his girthy cock.

He gives you time to adjust, but it isn’t nearly enough. Naoya has been kind enough, but he always takes what he wants. Still, he will be nice one last time. “I’m gonna fuck you how I want to now, okay whore? You’re gonna be a good girl and take it anyways, right?” He gives you no time to prepare as he slams into you, bottoming out, forcibly deflowering you. The pain hurts, but Naoya is relentless. He pulls out and briefly gives you a moment of respite before slamming his cock back into your cunt. Despite the pain, the feeling is like never before as his body is pushed against yours, cock ramming in and out of your hole. Your cute moans are like music to his ears.

He leans down towards your face, seeming like he’s going to kiss you but instead spits on you. He moves a hand to grasp around your throat as you’re looking up at, unable to make any sound as his cock abuses your hole. The pressure and lack of air make your head feel dizzy as he spits again, degrading you. “You like that too, huh, stupid slut.” He hips pick up speed, pulling out before repeatedly bottoming out into your cunt. He lets go of your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. He would never admit it, but the sound of you struggling to breathe drives him insane.

He spits on his hand and moves it to your clit, fervently rubbing your bud, bringing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. You feel the waves of pleasure overwhelm your body as he’s raw dogging your cunt and relentlessly abusing your clit. Your moans are laced with pleasure, dripping with your ecstasy as you cum over Naoya’s cock, tightening your walls around him.

Naoya mercilessly fucks your virgin hole like he deserves it, like it’s owed to him. Whatever he wants, he gets. He’s grunting as moaning as he picks up speed, fucking you like an animal. “Hey bitch, ah fuck—I’m gonna cum in you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl alright?” He lightly slaps your face as he’s finishing his sentence, bottoming out for the last time before he slams back inside your cunt and paints your insides white. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you; there’s so much of it that it leaks out, a lewd sight before Naoya as he looks down at where you’re both connected. Before he can pull out and clean himself, the door to the guest room slightly creaked open as if it had been left ajar, not fully closed. Naoya cursed himself for not closing and locking the door.

--

Megumi had been standing there for not even 5 minutes when he went to check on you and bring you to dinner. He was approaching your room when he heard faint moaning coming from your room.  He was confused and curious, stopping in front of your door as he noticed it was left slightly open. What he saw left him shocked and speechless, unable to move or avert his gaze through the crack.

He heard you more than he could see you clearly, but your moans that are more beautiful than a symphony of angels was more than enough to make Megumi’s cock strain in his pants. He peered closer, unable to see who was fucking you but still able to see your bodies colliding. He couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see you get fucked, but a twang of jealousy and pain struck his heart that he wasn’t the one making your body shake in pleasure.

He hears a voice, it sounds familiar although he can’t quite place it, telling you he’s about to cum. Megumi leans forward more, slightly pushing the door as he watches the other man breed you. Just as the door squeaks, the man’s head whips to see the door and he makes eye contact with Megumi.

--

“____, what are you doing?” Megumi questions as he practically stumbles into the room. You lift your head to see Megumi looking at you and Naoya in horror. Shame and embarrassment overcome you, and you move to cover yourself with some blankets as Naoya got off of you and faced Megumi,

“I think it’s more appropriate to ask what are you doing, Megumi?” Naoya’s staring daggers into Megumi; he’s unaffected that his family member caught him in a compromising position, almost as if he’s used to it.

“I was coming to get ___ for dinner… I didn’t realize she was busy being a disgusting fucking whore and sleeping with my family though.” He looks over to you, making eye contact as he sees tears form in the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t actually think you’re disgusting, quite the opposite in fact. But he’s so upset that someone else got to be with you first, and Naoya of all people. As if that scum deserved to be with someone like you.

Naoya could instantly tell what was going on here. He can read Megumi like a book, and smirks as he grabs fistfuls of your hair and pulls you against his chest to taunt Megumi. “Looks like you lost. This is why I’ve always been superior to you. You wanted this little slut, huh? Mad that I broke her in first, aren’t you?” His voice is laced with amusement as he provokes Megumi. He pulls your head to be almost level with his as he spits onto your face. “Your little friend is quite the slut, I had a lot of fun using her like the whore she is. She probably wouldn’t even mind if you joined in, isn’t that right bitch?”

Despite the predicament you were in, you couldn’t help but feel aroused at Naoya’s manhandling and suggestion of Megumi joining in. It had never crossed your mind, although Megumi is quite attractive, you didn’t think he was interested. You were only able to mutter out a small “yes” as you look over to Megumi, noticing the flush in his cheeks reaching all the way to the ends of his ears, and the straining bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry, ___... Be good for me, please?” He was almost pleading as he was walking over to the bed, already starting to strip.

“You can hurt her and call her names, that dumb whore likes it.” Naoya says, moving aside to let Megumi have easier access to you. You’re still lying on your back, barely recovered from getting your guts rearranged only minutes before. Megumi stands in front of you before kneeling down to get at eye level with your cunt. Naoya hadn’t been able to get up since Megumi stumbled into the room; because of this, your womb was filled to the brim with Naoya’s hot cum leaking out of your small hole. Megumi’s eyes were immediately locked on at the lewd sight before him when he used both hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart.

He moved a slender finger past your leaking hole, scooping a bit of cum up with his fingers as he dragged his finger across your clit. The sharp inhale and moan you made sounded absolutely divine to Megumi, urging him to keep going. “Good girl…” he purrs, as he moves his long fingers down to your hole again, once again scooping another glob of cum. “Sit up, slut,” He commands as he stands up. You comply, not willing to play any games in a situation like this. He shoves his cum covered fingers into your mouth; you lap it up and suck his fingers without having to be told anything. Megumi grins. “Good girl, ____. Such a good girl.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you slut?” You hear Naoya’s remark from aside you, he’s watching all of this unfold right before him. Megumi takes his fingers out of your mouth, Naoya grips you with fistfuls of hair and forces you to look at him. “Answer me, bitch.” He glares at you intensely.

“Yes… yes sir… I do.” You try to look anywhere except him but Naoya isn’t having it.

“When men are speaking, you show them the respect they deserve. That means you answer clearly and fucking pay attention. Got it?” He tugs your head to face him, leaning in closer until he’s only a few inches from your face. “Open your mouth, bitch. And don’t swallow until I tell you to.” You comply and he spits into your mouth, before closing the gap and letting his lips crash into yours. He bites your lip, drawing blood. The metallic essence mixes with his spit before Naoya leans back and instructs you to swallow. It feels perverse and humiliating to admit that it turned you on.

Megumi dropped onto his knees again, this time pushing his slender fingers into your cunt. It feels different this time for you; he’s gentler as he stretches you open. He takes his time adding more fingers, taking in every moment and feeling.

“Let’s change the position, yeah Megumi?” Naoya says it more as a statement and less of a question as he’s already moving to rest on the bed against the wall, pillows propping him up. He pulls you away from Megumi while simultaneously flipping you onto your tummy. He pulls you into his lap, supporting your arms until you’re able to prop yourself up above his cock. One hand grips the back of your head and pulls you closer to his thick cock. He pulls you by your hair, aligning your mouth with the tip of his cock as he forcefully shoves your head down. You nearly gag, pushing against him as he tries to use your mouth. Despite your resistance, Naoya doesn’t seem to care and is chasing his own high using you to get him off. You take him into your mouth, inexperienced but trying to adjust quickly. Naoya gives you barely any time to try and settle within the rhythm he’s created. You basically gag on his cock every time he plunges it slightly deeper than the last, but this only enhances Naoya’s pleasure.

While Naoya’s aggressive use of your mouth is going on, Megumi is taking his time to explore you from behind. His fingers are touching every part of your body he can get to, settling on your ass that he starts to spread apart. He’s entranced by the glistening of your cunt in the light, lost in thought about how lewd you look taking Naoya’s cock while bent over for him like a full course meal. He’s done with his “inspection” and moves one of his slender fingers to your entrance. He slips it in easily, listening to you moan with a cock stuffed in your mouth. Naoya pushes your head down farther along his length, trying to hit the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing in time with his rhythm.

Megumi slips another finger inside, stretching your cunt. “Fuck, ____, I didn’t think you were this tight.” He groans as he starts fucking you with his fingers. The lewd sounds he forces out you vibrate around Naoya’s cock. His other hand is grabbing fistfuls of your hair, face fucking you harder as your dripping cunt takes another of Megumi’s fingers. Megumi picks up pace, bringing another hand to your clit to add extra stimulation, but mostly so he can see you writhe and squirm under him while trying to hold yourself up.

“Will you be a good girl for me and cum, ___?” Megumi coos, stringing you along with his praises. “You look like such a dirty girl right now, already about to cum with just my fingers. So cute.” He finger fucks you harder now, making lewd wet noises as his fingers slam back into your pussy. His other hand is toying with your clit, drawing circles and rubbing the little button to bring you closer to your ecstasy. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach, feeling yourself be pushed over the edge with his fingers alone.

Naoya thrusts into your throat, choking you and momentarily leaving you without air as Megumi pushes you over the edge. You feel your cunt tighten around his fingers as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the lack of air adding to your heightened senses. You moan as you’re cumming, giving just enough sensation to Naoya for him to creampie your throat. His cum is being forced down your throat, yet there’s still so much that some leaks from the corners of your mouth as his cock is pushed against the back of your throat. He finally shows mercy and pulls out as you’re coming down from your high. You force yourself to as much as you can before gasping for air, panting as you trying to calm down again.

“You did a good job taking all of me, slut.” Naoya grins as he lifts your chin with one of his fingers, leaning down to give you a kiss as you share his cum in your mouth. You didn’t think he’d be into some perverted shit like that, yet he’s basically tongue fucking your mouth still full of his cum. He pulls away, a long string of saliva and cum still connecting you two.

Megumi watches you two, his cock throbbing so intensely it almost hurts. He wastes no time in pulling his pants and boxers down before spitting in his hand and lubing his cock up. He’s shuffling behind you, lining himself up with your cunt before he pushes in at full force, giving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock. You let out a yelp, air evacuating your lungs at the surprise intrusion. He’s balls deep near instantly in your tight hole, stretching you open with a cock that is even girthier than Naoya’s.

Naoya is watching you, grinning, and lazily stroking his cock. You have no idea how he’s able to keep going for multiple rounds, only a little bit of time in between. But you don’t care. The man in front of you is irresistibly hot even though his attitude is garbage. You would do anything he asked no matter how degrading it is in hopes that he would manhandle you again. As these thoughts cross your mind, Megumi reels you back into reality as he pushes so deep into your womb you’re sure he probably bruised your cervix.

“Your pussy is amazing, sweetheart. You have no idea… hah.. how long I’ve been wanting this.” Megumi praises you, unable to control his breathy moans as he continues fucking you with full force. One of your arms is pulled to your side, Megumi interlocking fingers and holding your hand as he drills into you. Even in a situation like this, he can’t help but do some cute shit.

His other hand lightly smacks your ass as you whimper in pleasure, unable to hide the fact that you like it a little rough. Megumi lets go of your hand as you feel both his arms snake around your waist, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks you. Your back is to his chest, on full display for Naoya in front of you. His shiteating grin is plastered on his face as he has a front row view of Megumi’s cock sliding in and out of you. He gets up from his seated position to face you. Megumi’s arms are still wrapped around your body, supporting you as he drills into your cunt. You can feel his breath against your neck and hear his soft whimpers in your ear. “You’re doing so well, slut. Such a good girl for me huh?” He whispers into your ear. His words send chills down your spine as he keeps ramming his cock into you, abusing your poor hole.

Naoya moves closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. He kisses you slowly, before aggressively trying to fill your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away, spits on your face, and lightly slaps your face. “You love taking your friend’s cock, huh? Didn’t think it would be that good, did you? Who knew you’d be the family’s fuckdoll.” He chuckles at his degrading joke, but you couldn’t help but internalize his words. You have no idea how you got to be in this situation, but you were definitely not complaining. Something about multiple men of the same family using you how they liked made your cunt drip at the mere thought of it.

Naoya moves his mouth to your neck, leaving little marks on your skin to prove he was there. Little bruises of his lust for you, marking your skin like you’re property. Megumi start pulling out with only the tip left inside, before bottoming out into your cunt. He groans beside you, lost in the addictive pleasure that is you. Megumi was no virgin, but he believed you were the best person he’s ever fucked, your body insanely attractive and your personality catching and reeling him, unable to resist you.

Naoya moves back before bringing a hand to your neck, gripping your throat and momentarily cutting off your oxygen. “Megumi… fuck this bitch harder when I choke her, okay? She fucking loves it.” And he wasn’t wrong, you did love it. He gripped your throat, a smirk planted on his features as he watched you helpless and at his mercy. Some drool started dripping out of your mouth and you could feel your vision starting to haze around the edges. Megumi fucked into you harder, pulling you closer to his body. Naoya let his grip loosen a bit around your throat, enough to allow some air to fill your lungs again.

“I’m close, baby. I’m gonna fill you up okay? Be a good girl and take all of it for me.” Megumi purrs beside you. Naoya takes this moment to strengthen the grip around your throat, cutting off your air. You feel Megumi’s speed pick up, him desperately chasing his orgasm. You can hear his staggered whimpers as he empties his load into your cunt, filling your already full womb even more. Naoya releases his hand from your throat, making you choke and gasp for air. He’s looking down at you with sadistic satisfaction as you struggle to catch your breath.

Megumi pulls out and lets go of your waist, and you plop down onto the bed absolutely fucked out. Naoya is quick to get off the bed and start dressing. He finishes so quickly it’s as if he was speedrunning it (he has done this many, many, MANY times before). He gives you a quick peck on the lips and gently rubs your cheek before starting to walk towards the door. “See you soon, slut,” he says as he walks out, closing the door behind him this time. Megumi returns with a clean towel, gently cleaning you up as you just lay their like a limp fish.

“You did so well for me. Thank you,” he says as he kisses your cheeks and then your lips before pulling away and picking up some clothes for you. He tosses you a simple outfit to wear and begins dressing himself as well. “Ready for dinner? You’re gonna meet the rest of my family now.” You nod your head yes, anticipating who else you’re going to meet.

--

‹𝟹 notes: this was originally suppsed to be a oneshot, but i felt like it was getting too long. i have plans for all of them and wasn't going to be able to execute it in just a oneshot. let me know what y'all think!

feedback is always appreciated!! thank you all!!!

ch 2 (soon)

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[not-magdi]

"Chocolates"

Warnings: smut, 18+

Summary: You and Pablo try out some special chocolates

Word Count: 1k

Reading Time: 4 min

A/N

This whole thing is actually not my idea, it was @amaranthineghost idea so all credits go to her and her post.

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys Magdi <3

---------

Pablo's body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle in his body longed for her. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so turned on as he currently is. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he looked over at you, hoping to see the same effect on you.

He shuddered when he glanced at you and found you sitting on the couch, looking completely unbothered like these damm chocolates didn't even do anything to you.

When you saw a video of a couple trying out these unique chocolates, you knew you wanted to try these things with Pablo, too. You two have been trying out new things in the bedroom lately. Not that there was anything wrong with your sex life, but you two are young and want to experiment a bit.

As you first came to him with the idea, he just smiled and waved you off, not believing a piece of chocolate could have such an effect on him. So you ordered them and made a challenge out of it. The one who lasts longer has total control afterwards.

Still not believing these things work, Pablo agreed instantly. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated things, so he wasn't worried he had to give away the control tonight.

Oh, how he cursed himself for making this bet now. He was slowly losing his mind. It was only ten minutes since you split one of these little squares. Little beads of sweat collected on his forehead as his sweatpants became tighter with every second.

He thought you didn't see him struggling so badly, but you did. You acknowledged every movement of his, every little huff he let out as he adjusted himself again. You had a perfect look at him from your peripheral vision, your phone screen long dark, you only had your eyes on him.

You would lie when you'd say you weren't affected at all. The warmth between your legs was growing stronger and stronger. You were just better at hiding it.

Pablo, on the other hand, was close to exploding. Because you just had to wear his favourite pair of shorts you own and one of his old jerseys with his name on the back.

The images that were flooding his mind were everything but PG13. As much as he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Pictures of you on your knees before him, his hands in your hair as his cock was buried deep down in your throat.

A choked sound left his lips as he bucked his hips up into nothing to get at least a bit of friction.

Smirking, you sit up, looking into his eyes with a smug expression, "You giving up?"

His face flushes bright red, "N-no I'm fine, totally fine."

"Ok, if you say so." Shrugging, you lay yourself on your stomach before him. Now, Pablo had a great look at how good your ass looks in those shorts.

Groaning loudly, he finally admits defeat. "Baby, come here, now."

Smirking, you stand up and walk over to him, making sure to sway your hips while walking. Now standing between his legs, you wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance between you two.

Feeling her soft, chapped lips against his own made every muscle shiver. God, how he missed that feeling. Almost like an instinct, his hands ran down her spine and flattened against her ass. Applying some force, he urged you to curl your body against his.

Finally, having her sitting where he needed her the most drew a sinful sound from his lips. "You like that baby? Huh, you like having me in your lap?"

Pablo's grip on you got tighter, moving you gently on his dick. "Mhm you know I love it, Amor." He whispered into your ear.

You two continued to share passionate kisses as you gradually became less clothed. Now, only in your underwear, Pablo moves to go on top of you, but you stop him.

"Hey, you lost the bet. I'm on top tonight."

Letting out a huff, Pablo moves to sit up again and guides you on his lap. Both of you let out a hiss as your core brushes over his clothed dick. You start to brush soft kisses all over his necked chest. While your hand slowly moves downwards, scratching his abs slightly with your nails.

"Mhm, fuck Y/N!" Your hand finally disappears beneath the cotton of his boxers. Pablo sucked in a sharp breath as you griped him in and slowly started to massage him.

Pushing his underwear down his thighs, you climb up again after removing your panties. Locking your eyes with Pablo, you slowly sink down on his length, letting out a loud whimper when he is bottoming you out.

Pablo's hands grip your hips tightly while he leaves wet kisses all over your collarbones. You start to move gently up and down, increasing your pace gradually.

Your nails claw into his back as Pablo starts to thrust upwards into you, your breath hitching with every thrust. Arching your back a bit makes Pablo hit your G-spot with every thrust.

"Shit Pablo, right there!"

"Right here, baby? Yeah, does that feel good?"

Your words coiled in your throat. The only answer you can give are high-pitched moans right into Pablo's ear.

Feeling the coil in his stomach get tighter and tighter, Pablo reaches down to rub your clit. Wanting you to come before him.

Pablo's finger flicking aggressively on your clit was the last thing you needed to cum. Clenching hard around him, you release your juices all over his lap, squirming at the overstimulation.

Grunting loudly, Pablo feels your walls clenching around him and shoots his load deep into you.

You two bask in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms for a few minutes until Pablo picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.

"You ok, Amor?"

Cuddling yourself deeper into his strong arms, you nod. "I'm good, and I love you."

Pablo giggles and snuggles you into the soft blanket of your bed. You were always becoming a big softie after sex, and Pablo thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Cuddling himself next to you, he grabs you and snuggles his face into your neck.

"Goodnight bebé, I love you."

"I love you too."

----

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty six : crucifixion

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 12.7k

summary : judgement day.

warnings: major character death, above canon typical violence, very brief references to suicide, torture, body horror (briefly), feelings of despair, blood, wounds, general kodo grossness, vomit (reader vomits several times, it is never described in detail), language, angst, brief smut, pregnancy, death, reader is not doing well in this like she's at a breaking point, i may have missed some so feel free to let me know.

a/n: please read the warnings on this chap! it's the most serious of the bks updates, definitely a bit more intense than the rest. gonna work on getting 27 out within the next few day. i've been terrified of releasing this chapter since i started writing it so once i post this i'm going to dig a hole and sit in it and hide for a while lmao.

i changed my editing style so if there's spelling errors lmk!! apologies in advance!!

“My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh. You both just laugh for a few minutes, as if each other's company is the most amusing thing in the world. 

Once your giggles fizzle out you wait another moment before breaking the silence. 

“Where did you grow up?” You can’t see him but you can sense where he sits in the darkness, you crawl forward so you’re sitting between his legs, your own legs wrap around his waist. “I’m just curious.” 

“Aq Vetina.” You can’t recall anything about the planet. You aren’t even sure you’ve heard of it. 

“Do you remember your parents well? You don’t talk about them very much.” You put your hands on his shoulders, ever so slowly moving them up to his neck until you’re cupping his face. 

“I’ll never forget them.” He whispers. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We can’t change the past.” You rub your nose against his, bumping them together as you hum and nod. “My mother loved ships. We didn’t travel, we never had a reason to, but she would take me outside and we’d watch ships fly past. I could never comprehend how she knew the name for all of them, it blew my mind.” You wrap your arms around his neck, staying silent in hopes that he’ll continue, he so rarely speaks so much. “My father worked a lot but he always made time for us, he was always home in time to say goodnight to me. He was always around when I needed him, he always provided for us. On his day off he’d spend the whole day cooking, I’d sit on the kitchen counter and tell him what my mother and I had done that week. When she’d come home we’d all eat dinner together.” 

“You sound like you were a happy child.” You can’t help but smile. 

“I never had reason to be otherwise.” He says it so matter of factly that you don’t doubt it for a second. He was loved. It only makes you smile wider.         

“What were you like, as a child?”

“Well behaved.” You immediately begin laughing once more. 

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. My mother homeschooled me, she always made sure I had manners. I wasn’t particularly athletic or talkative so I didn’t play with other kids a lot. It was just me and mama.” He sounds far away, it makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.

“So what did you do all day?” Your tone has softened significantly. 

“I would sew.” 

“Be serious.” He’s the one who laughs now at the disbelief in your voice.

“I am! I would sit with my mother after my lessons and we’d sew.” His fingertips dance along the back of your neck as he reminisces. 

“What kinds of things?” You don’t tease. When you really think about it you suppose such a hobby is fitting for him. A task that requires precision and care. 

“I would help her make clothes and blankets that she would sell most days. On the weekends she’d let me do whatever I wanted so I would practice my embroidery.” 

“My heart is actually about to explode out of my chest, you’re so cute.” You put on a mocking tone but the thought of such a thing really does make your heart clench. “Little Din Djarin stitching his name into his clothes.”

“You’re a cruel woman.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against yours, almost as if he were reprimanding you. 

“What sorts of things would you embroider?” Your tone goes back to genuine, you could listen to him talk about himself for days and you’d never get bored. 

“Whatever my mother wanted. I would ask her what I should do and then I’d stitch it onto her blanket or the hem of her skirt. Mostly flowers, she loved daisies.” You’re pretty sure one of your ovaries literally popped at the thought of a little boy with dark curls and big brown eyes sitting beside his mother and embroidering a daisy onto her skirt. Your heart flutters a bit as you think of the necklace he got you. The silver outline of a flower you now realize is a daisy. “If he was ever gone for more than one night for work my father would bring her daisies, one for each day he was away.”

“Do you still know how?”

“I used to fix Grogu’s clothes when he ripped them but I haven’t done much else since I was a boy. He says it with finality but you carry on, not wanting him to stop talking. 

“What were their names? Your parents?”

“Clara and Arin Djarin.”  

“Those are pretty names.”

“What was it like for you? You said you had seven siblings right?”

“Eight actually.” You think of them now. There were eight of you and your parents' love for all of you combined wasn’t even a tenth of how much Din’s parents loved him. 

“Do you like having a big family?” He lifts you off of his lap, laying you back down as he crawls on top of you, laying against your chest. 

“I love it. I miss my siblings everyday, do you think we’ll be able to visit them someday?”

“If it’s safe to, of course we will.” He tilts his head, if you weren’t in darkness he’d be looking at you. 

“I wish they had visited here. They would have loved you.”

“You think?”

“Are you kidding me? The younger ones would adore you.” You tangle your finger in his hair, scratching his scalp. “Kids just naturally like you.” 

“They just haven’t learned to fear me.” You frown when he says it like a fact.

“I think it’s more than that.”

“Yeah?” The hopeful tilt to his voice has you leaning down to press a kiss into his hair. 

“Kids are intuitive, they can sense that you’re a good person.” He tenses up as you tell him he’s a good person. You know exactly what he’s thinking about now, how he punched your husband and then refused to leave. 

Neither one of you wants to talk about that though, not today. 

“What kind of room would you want? Since your current room isn’t to your liking.” He’s quick to change the subject and you let him.

“In all honesty, I like the cabin, I wish we could just live there.” You run your fingers through his curls as you think about it, gently pulling through any tangles.

“My cabin?” His voice is full of uncertainty as he pulls back a bit.

“It’s nice.” You feel a bit defensive, you consider the cabin to be the closest thing you have to a home. “Can you imagine getting to stay on Naboo? We could spend our mornings walking the market.” You rest your hand on the back of his neck now. “We could get jobs in the city, and then at night we’d come home.” 

“To the cabin?” He still sounds rather skeptical of your hypothetical future. 

“I’d cook dinner, you’d do the chores.”

“The cabin’s a bit small for us.” 

“We’d make it a bit bigger, add a few bedrooms, we don’t need that much space.” 

“A few?” He turns his head, his lips brush against your collar briefly as he kisses you there, freezing up when you speak again. 

“At least two, one for us and then some for any little Djarin’s who might need space.” With that he sits up entirely, his legs straddle your stomach.

“Little Djarin’s?”

“And Grogu, he would come live with us as well.” 

“You’d want him to live with us?”

“Of course, he’s a little Djarin.” Your hands rest on his thighs now as he seemingly ponders above you. He hums to himself in silence for a moment and you can’t help but grin at how seriously he’s taking all of this. 

“How many?” He finally speaks again and you laugh at the bluntness of his question. 

“Kids?”

“How many would you want?”

“You go first.” You haven’t ever talked about this sort of thing so you want to gauge his answer first so you don’t scare him too much with all the kids talk. 

“Maybe five? Or six.”

“Six?” Your voice pitches up immediately and you feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs. 

“Or five.”

“How about two, counting Grogu.” Turns out you didn’t need to worry about scaring him off. 

“How about three?” Three is manageable. 

“Counting Grogu?” 

“Counting Grogu.” He seems satisfied with that. 

“I suppose we could have three, you’re the one who has to build all the extra bedrooms.” 

“I don’t mind.”

“I’d work at the library and you’d work in a shipyard, we’d take turns staying home with the kids.” You pull him back to you, taking his hands and dragging him to lay his head on your chest once more.

“I’ve got enough savings, neither one of us has to work if you’d like.” It sends a twinge of pain to your heart how real this conversation has become, knowing that this exact dream isn’t possible. 

You could always make parts of it real.

Someday. 

“I’d want to work, to get out of the house, but you could stay home if you’d like.”

“When they’re still ik’aad, at least for the first few years I’d want to be with them.” He’s going to be a wonderful father. 

“Then I’d work, not long hours, just enough to get me out of the house, when I come home I’d give you a break, you could do the shopping and I’d watch the little’s.” 

“We’d go as a family, I wouldn’t want ‘a break.’” 

“You’d want to wrangle three kids in the markets?” You scoff in disbelief but he continues to sound completely serious. 

“They’d be well behaved.” You seriously doubt that. 

“What about either one of us makes you think our children will be well behaved? Is Grogu well behaved?” 

“We’ll manage.”

“They’ll be wild.” They will, not they would. 

“And smart.” He sits up again, hovering above you to give you a quick kiss. 

“And happy.” There isn’t a doubt in your mind that your children would be happy with Din as their father. 

“You’d really want to live here? I could build us a house anywhere.”

“I like Naboo, at least everything outside of the castle. I don’t even mind the castle, I just don’t care for the people inside it.” It’s true, somewhere along the way this place grew on you immensely. You love the city and the people in it. “And they’d get to play in the garden.” 

“I would build you a cabin anywhere you wanted, and I’d plant you a new garden.” He kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he speaks. 

“You wouldn’t need to plant me a garden if we lived here.” You insist. 

“We can’t live here, mesh’la.” He rubs a small circle with his thumb against your cheek. “This is too serious now, we’re supposed to be relaxed today.”

“When did we agree on that?” You muster up a weak laugh. 

“It was a silent mutual agreement.”

“I’m plenty relaxed.” You mumble. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you as you let out an airy giggle. 

“I’m actually very tense and I think we should take a break from all this talking and take care of that.” He mumbles against your shoulder.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” He emphasizes his point by pressing his erection against your hip, you hadn’t even realized that this is where he was going with that. 

“How long have you been waiting to jump me?”

“When we started talking about the five kids I was gonna put in you.” He continues to nip at your neck and shoulders as he speaks. 

“Skipping the agreed upon three and going straight to five already? You’re not even going to attempt to negotiate for four?” 

“So you’re open to four?” He pulls back and you can hear his smile. 

“Let’s start with one and go from there.”

“Right now?” His hips stutter down a bit against yours. 

“Maker, you’re insatiable.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. 

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I could get pregnant, and considering the lack of sex I’ve had with my husband I’m sure that might raise a few eyebrows.” 

“It would never get to that point, when we’re in the clear with this whole Kodo mess I’m getting you out of here.”

“Like… actually leaving Naboo?” 

“Exactly like that. I’m gonna take you far away from here when this is over, gonna keep you all for myself.” His hands move down, giving your hips a squeeze. 

“I’m already yours.” You laughed, rolling over to be on top of him. He’s right, if you’re going to leave anyway then what’s the worst thing that could happen? 

You never talked about that night after that. 

When everything sorted itself out you realized how crazy your fear had made you. You couldn’t just leave. At least that’s what you’d told yourself, now you feel like an idiot for not holding him to his words. It wasn’t realistic, you both knew actually leaving would take so much more preparation than a few whispered ideas during a time where neither one of you was in any position to be making such promises. 

It was just talk.

Lysa came to get you from the dining room. 

After everyone left you had no motivation to move, you just stood there, frozen in time. After a few hours she found you, she had taken your hand and walked you back to your chambers. She held your hand, she kept you upright when you threatened to crumble. And when you felt a wave of nausea ripple through you she rushed you to the fresher, a hand on your back as you threw up all over again. 

You sat breathlessly on the tile, Lysa rubbing your back.

“Gods, I’ve been nauseous since the wedding. Even before everything fell apart.” It’s the first words you’ve spoken since they took Din, your stomach is still churning. “This has never happened before.” You groan, you’ve had many moments of upset throughout your life, but none that made you physically ill. Lysa looks almost painfully worried. 

“Ma’am… is there a chance you might be…” 

Kriff.

You never talked about that night after that. 

Maybe you should have. 

You both did a lot of things during those days. You had been so angry, and he had done everything in his power to ease that anger, to keep both of you as happy as someone could be in your situation. 

You shouldn’t have used that as an excuse to be reckless. 

“I’d like to go to bed.” 

“Of course.” She helps you to your feet, walking you back to your room, you turn to her one last time before you close the door. 

“I’m sorry. Elaine never should have gotten involved in all this.” You’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if you could. 

“It’s not your fault.” She truly seems to believe that. 

Except it is. Elaine never would have found herself in this situation if she hadn’t so often been helping the two of you keep your secret. 

“Goodnight, Lysa.” 

“Goodnight, princess.” 

You lay on the bed, unable to bring yourself to sleep in the closet. 

It’s cold. Colder than Hoth, as you stare at the ceiling in your far too big bed in your far too big room. Even bigger now that it’s just you. 

You let your hand roam down your torso to rest on your stomach.

Just you, hopefully. 

☆

You’re now having nightly dinners with Kodo. 

You don’t get any respite from him, you just want to stay in bed. You’re nauseous and tired and your head hasn’t stopped spinning since that night. A million thoughts a minute. 

Where is he?

Is he okay?

What the fuck can I do about it?

Mostly that. 

The worst part is your lack of a plan. If the roles were reversed Din would have already rescued you and you’d be living happily ever after. 

But that isn’t how your story is going. Instead you are alone, with no scheme on how to get to him. It’s only been three days but it’s driving you insane, you have never known such hopelessness, it’s maddening. To sit alone in your room all day, staring at the ceiling until Lysa comes to dress you for dinner. Neither one of you ever speaks, afterall, what would you say to each other?

“I’m sorry the love of your life had been sentenced to die?”

How morbid. 

Not that you’re above being morbid. 

You think about it often. How easy it would be to drive your dinner knife into Kodo’s throat. You’re seated beside him now at dinner, both of you at the head of the table, joined by the rest of his family. 

The thought of killing him is the only thing that brings you peace these days. You’ve never once in your life been violent until now. Din is good. He’s a good man. In every way he is the opposite of your husband yet Din is the one locked away, Maker knows where, while Kodo is being rewarded. 

It doesn’t make you mad, it makes you furious. 

It makes you want to poison his wine. 

But you don’t have poison. 

And you can’t put yourself in danger. Because you feel fundamentally different, and even if you refuse to think that such a thing is possible you know you wouldn’t just be putting yourself in danger. There’s more at stake now. 

That’s what you tell yourself to stay calm, a feat that is getting harder by the minute as you’re sat beside Kodo who is currently bragging about how he defeated a Mandalorian. 

“They aren’t as strong as you think they are. Under the armor they’re weak, pathetic.” 

It took six battle droids to keep him down. You didn’t even get near him. 

“Some people just need to be taught a lesson, don’t touch what isn’t yours.” He sneers and the rest of the table erupts into laughter. “I certainly taught that horned bitch a lesson as well, you all should have seen what they brought me last night.” 

You perk up, this is the only thing they’ve said in days that truly matters to you. You’ve heard nothing about the current state of either of them until now. 

“What did they do to Elaine?” Everyone’s head turns to you, all their expressions look as if you’ve announced something treasonous but Kodo smiles as if he were explaining something to a child. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” He puts his hand over yours when he says it. 

You don’t ask for any follow up. 

You don’t think you could stomach it, so you stay silent for the rest of your meal. When you’re finished you stand, the rest of the table is starting to pour more drinks but you simply lean down, mumbling something about being tired before giving Kodo a quick kiss on the cheek and dismissing yourself. 

You’re waiting for the night where he joins you in your chambers, after all his father is dead, but it has yet to happen. He had told you that once he was king he would be in need of heirs but he seems happy enough with his pleasure houses and you’re more than grateful for the women you entertain him so you don’t have to. 

So you return to your chambers alone, peeling off your gown before burying yourself under the covers. 

Sleep evades you as you toss and turn. You aren’t even tired, there’s too much going on in your mind, there’s no room for exhaustion. After about an hour you manage to drift in and out of unconsciousness, earning a brief reprieve from your anxieties until a sharp knocking has you jolting upright. 

You don your robe, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you rush to the door, you’re too tired to wonder who might even be bothering you at such an hour as you pull the door open. 

Lysa?

“We have to hurry, ma’am.” She grabs your arm, frantically tugging you into the hall. 

“Lysa? What are you doing? Are you okay?” 

“I am fine, but we don’t have much time.”

“Surely you have enough to tell me where we are going.” 

“Do you want to see him or not?” 

Din.

You nod, taking her hand as he rushes onward, stopping at each hall to peer around the corners until you make your way to a servants stairwell, skipping several steps in your descent until you run out of stairs. You’ve never been down here, you didn’t even know there were dungeons until recently. 

It makes your stomach twist in knots the moment you stare into the darkness. 

“Are there no guards?” You whisper, squeezing her hand.

“Not for the next hour, I’ve made sure of it.” She begins walking down the poorly lit corridor, pulling you along behind her. 

The stone floor is damp and it smells of mildew. Your bare feet are already freezing after just a few steps.

Every cell you pass is lit from the outside with a hanging lantern, they’re mostly empty, but you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye every now and then. In all honesty you’re doing your best to take in as little as possible, you don’t want to think about Din being down here in such a place, but there’s one element you can’t ignore. 

The wailing. 

Someone is weeping, a low, sorrowful song filling the vast maze of halls and you realize quickly you’re heading in its direction, Lysa tenses beside you as you continue on. You’re about to turn one more corner when she abruptly stops, turning to face you.

“He needs to eat.” She removes a fistful of rations from her apron pocket, shoving them into your hands. 

“He hasn’t?” He’s been down here for three days. 

“He won’t… let me.” You pause, cocking your head to the side and she gives you an apologetic look when she turns. “He won’t let me uncover his face.”

Oh. 

“I’ll feed him.” You nod slowly, tucking them into your own pockets before turning the corner. The contents of the cell immediately on your right have you stumbling backwards but Lysa is not swayed, pulling a key from her pocket, unlocking the door quickly before handing it to you. 

“He’s two cells down, on your right.” She doesn’t look at you as she rushes in, pulling a roll of bandages from her dress. “Shh… it’s okay, I’m here.” Her voice goes soft as she kneels beside Elaine. You can’t help it as you step into the entryway of the cell. 

Well, you’ve found the source of the wailing. 

She’s sat on a cot, curled in on herself as Lysa carefully peels back a series of soiled bandages from her face. 

“I’ve got you, it’s just me.” She continues to make an attempt to sooth a rather hysterical Elaine as she peels back the final layer of bandages and your stomach flips. “You’re okay, love, I need to change these.” You don’t know how Lysa is so calm, even in the darkness you can see the extent of her wounds. Now you know what they brought Kodo last night.  

Both eyes. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” 

Oh gods. 

You’re worried you may collapse as you watch Lysa tend to her with no hesitation, cleaning them with a careful hand before she begins to redress them. You can’t bear to watch any longer as Elaine begins sobbing once more. You try desperately to force the sight of your mutilated friend from your mind as you count down two more cells before quickly fumbling for the lock, letting it hit the floor as you take the lantern outside the door off its hook, bringing it into the dark room. 

It isn’t like Elaine’s cell. 

There’s no bed or interior light, it’s terribly dark and fetid, his cell running deeper than her’s. It takes a few steps for you to finally illuminate the room enough to see him. 

Maker. 

What have they done to your Din? 

You don’t hear Elaine anymore, there isn't a single thing that could distract you from the scene in front of you. There is nothing but the sight of your kar’ta. There’s too much for you to worry about, you don’t even know where to start, you’re frozen in place, a small part of your brain refuses to recognize the man before you as Din at all. He shouldn’t look like this. 

Armorless. 

They’ve stripped him of any clothing you recognize, the thought alone makes you nearly lose your dinner. 

They took his helmet, replacing it with a linen sack.  

Did they see his face?

You briefly have to shut your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in the rest of him. His clothes are too thin, he must be freezing, they’ve dressed him in a cotton tunic and trousers that end just below the knee. You can see just how beaten and bruised he is. Unlike Elaine he’s in chains, kneeling on the floor with his hands shackled, taut above his head. You swallow the lump in your throat and finally crouch down in front of him, setting the lantern down beside you as you reach out to place a hand on his chest.

“Din…” Your voice cracks and the moment you come in contact with him he flinches back. Suddenly you know how Lysa held it together so well with Elaine, she just had to. You can’t fall apart, who would care for him now if you did? “It’s me, just me. Just me.” You whisper and place a hand over his heart but withdraw it quickly when he trembles under your touch. You ache at the sight of it but more than anything you’re confused, it only takes a moment for you to realize the issue. 

He doesn’t have his helmet. They’ve not only left him here blind, but deaf, of course any touch would frighten him. 

He assumes you're here to harm him. 

You lean in, careful not to come in contact with him as you speak clearly and loudly. 

“Din?” His trembling stops instantly. You find it a bit troublesome how much worse his hearing seems to have gotten in such a short time, you’re half tempted to reach under the bag to make sure he still has his ears. 

“Sarad?” Oh, Din. His voice is terribly small and it sends you forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him into an unreciprocated embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You make sure to speak loud enough for him before pulling back, placing your hands against the fabric covering his face. 

“Are you okay?” He coughs a bit as he asks and you almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is considering the state he’s in. Are you okay? 

Technically no. 

But far better than he’s doing. 

“I’m perfectly fine, what can I do for you? Are you hurting?” You feel his face through the bag as you look down across his body. It doesn’t look like there’s been any permanent damage outside of a pretty nasty cut on one of his legs. 

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Now’s not the time to play the hero, Din.” He flinches a little and you calm your tone immediately. What the hell did they do to him? “Just let me help.”

“How’d you get down here?” 

“Lysa, she says you aren’t eating.” 

“She’d have to lift my- the bag to do it.” He sounds apologetic, as if you could ever fault him for following his creed. 

“It’s okay… may I?” You bring your hands to the hem of the bag but his head turns sharply.

“I- I don’t want you to look.” 

You have no response. He’s always wanted you to look. 

“I just, I don’t think you wanna see the condition I’m in. I don’t want your only memories of my face to be this.” He whispers when you don’t respond.

You should have looked when he asked you to. You should have done a lot of things differently. 

You shouldn’t have waited so long to look. 

You shouldn't have waited so long to tell him you loved him. 

You should have just let yourself love him. Why did you fight it for so long? It seems silly now. If you could do it all again you would have just taken his helmet off the first night you met him and you would have married him right then and there. You would have left Naboo that night.

And you would never keep any of it from him. You would tell him how important he is and how loved he is, you wouldn’t make him wait. 

Even now you can’t help it though, censoring yourself out of fear. Do you tell him about how nauseous you get every morning? About the way Lysa stares at your belly when she does your makeup? 

No. 

It wouldn’t do either of you any good, not when he’s in this situation. 

You take hold of the edges of the bag once more, gentler this time. 

“I’ll close my eyes.” You lift the fabric completely off of him, setting it in your lap as you simultaneously shut your eyes. You keep one hand on his face, using your thumb to find the corner of his mouth as your other hand fumbles to open a ration bar. You feel him part his lips as you feed him. He’s barely chewing, eating quickly and swallowing most of it whole. “Have they fed you at all?” You whisper as he finishes the first bar in a matter of seconds, his teeth lightly scraping against your fingers before you withdraw them, tearing open another bar.

“No.” His voice is still soft as you go to feed him once more, opening each package until he’s eaten them all. 

“Are you still hungry? I could see if Lysa has more.” 

“I’m okay.” You let your head fall forward, resting your forehead on his. 

“What else can I do for you?” 

“Nothing. Being here is enough.” 

If you had felt helpless before it was nothing compared to this. This is more than helplessness, it’s despair. 

“I’m sorry.” You pull yourself further into his lap, wrapping your arms around him in the process. 

“Hey… none of this is your fault.” It certainly feels like it is. Why does he keep comforting you when he’s the one shivering and alone down here? 

“Please, there has to be something I can do to help you.” 

“There is one thing.” You almost open your eyes, you're so relieved, you just want to ease his pain. 

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” 

“I need you to promise me you won’t look.”

“Won’t look?” Your eyes are already closed, you couldn’t look any less if you tried. 

“When they do it. I don’t want you to see it- it won’t be pretty.”

When they separate his head from his body. 

“I won’t.” You can’t deny him this, you’ll give him anything he wants. “Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper before leaning forward another inch to kiss him. 

The question is genuine. It terrifies you to your core to think that he may not know just how much you love him. 

“Of course sarad.” He murmurs against your lips until you let your head rest on his shoulder, fighting back tears. 

What do you say now?

What do you say to a man condemned to death? 

“I love you.” You mumble into the thin fabric of his tunic. 

“I love you too.” After a moment more with him you hear metal jingling as Lysa locks Elaine's cell once more. You quickly pull back from him, pulling the bag back over his head, once you know he can’t see you anymore the tears flow freely. Lysa steps into the cell and you remove your robe, wrapping it around him, immediately he begins to protest. 

“Mesh’la, you can’t leave this here.” His voice is strained and it makes you sick to think he started crying once he was out of sight as well. 

“Please, y-you’re gonna freeze.”

“They’ll know you were here, sarad’ika.” 

“Din…” You’re practically babbling as Lysa removes your robe from his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face as she grabs your arm. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we need to go.” Tears sting your eyes as Lysa urges you to hurry but you don’t want to leave him, you want to stay, no matter the consequence. You pull away from her, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“You need to go.” His voice is urgent through the fabric as you cling to him tighter. 

Would it be easier to just stay? Get caught and join him at the executioners? You’re genuinely considering it when you feel your stomach churn once more and you’re reminded of the exact reason why you can’t stay. Before you lose your nerve and shatter completely you lift the bag, just enough to give you an eyeful of his split lip and bruised jaw as you gently lean in and kiss him one more time. 

Doing everything in your power to remember exactly what it feels like.

The curve of his lips and the shape of his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against your skin as you press your face harder against his, desperation taking over as you taste salt on his lips. You hold him as long as you can, until you hear Lysa urging you to make haste once more. 

“I love you.” You press your forehead to his through the fabric, feeling the familiar shape of his face against yours. 

“I’ll always be yours.” 

That was the last thing he was able to say before you let Lysa drag you out of the dungeons. 

☆

It’s like everythings suddenly back to the beginning. 

You wake up alone, you go to bed alone, and you wander the castle alone.

There is no plotting or scheming to free Din. 

Even if you were a trained killer or bounty hunter, it would be more than difficult to get him out of the dungeon and on a ship off Naboo. It would be even harder to do so when you’re one of the most recognizable people on the planet. 

He is buried deep beneath the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. 

After all, you're just a doll. 

You don’t know when it happened but all your clothes are blue again. Every dress Lysa fetches from the closet is a different shade of blue and all your nightgowns are the color of the sky. A personal brand put on you by Kodo. It’s clearly more than just a preference now, it’s a reminder to you and everyone else that you’re his. 

And time blends. 

You know a date was set right around the time you visited him. One week until Kodo’s coronation and two until the execution. His first public event after being crowned king will be a death sentence, how fitting. 

So you wake. 

And you sleep. 

And you walk. 

Kodo never replaces Din and you haven’t seen Leo since that night, so you’re completely alone. It’s like he’s rubbing in the fact that you’re powerless. There’s no need for you to have a guard, you can’t leave. If you tried you’d be escorted back in an instant. 

You tried to convince Lysa to let you see him again last night. 

“Please, just a few minutes-“

“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just not possible. The only reason I was able to get you down there the first time was because the guard that usually lets me in was working nights, he won’t be working nights again until next month.”

Din won’t live to see next month. 

“Is he eating?”

“He won’t let me-“

“You need to insist. Tell him I insist, and tell him you’ll close your eyes.” 

She pins back a bit of your hair, leaving half up and half down. You both bask in the silence for a moment.

“I’ll make sure he eats.”

“Thank you.”

That had been the last conversation you had with Lysa. 

She doesn’t come to dress you in the morning. You think nothing of it and dress yourself in the gown she’d laid out last night. It’s a bit difficult, putting your coronation gown on on your own but eventually you manage, when you’re fully dressed in the obscenely decadent blue fabric you begin to worry. 

You have no reason to assume that everything is fine. It would actually make sense for this to be a worst case scenario situation, everything else in your life is right now. 

You’re about to leave in search of her but you decide against it. Sitting at the vanity and doing your makeup as quickly as possible, the last thing you need to do right now is give Kodo a reason to be upset with you, you have to be presentable. You smear the shimmering blue eyeshadow across your lids before rushing out of your room. 

The halls are full. Servants move quickly from room to room, cleaning every inch as you carefully push through the crowds, making a beeline towards the dining room. 

Kodo is seething when you push open the large doors. 

He stands at the end of the table, shoving an armored guard as the veins in his neck jut out in his rage. 

“Where could she have possibly gone? She’s blind. You’re telling me some blind bitch outsmarted my entire guard?” 

Your heart flutters at the thought.

They escaped.

Your hope is shattered the moment Kodo begins speaking again.

“At least we still have the Mandalorian… I want security tripled, guards stationed outside his cell at all times.” He continues grumbling for a moment until he realizes you’re there. “Happy coronation day dear wife! I’m afraid we’ve had a rough morning here, somehow in the night the Togruta girl escaped, do not fret, we’ll find her.” 

God's you hope not.

Even if things are worse than ever regarding Din there is one flicker of light in that darkness. Lysa got Elaine out. Knowing that almost puts you at ease.

“Happy coronation day.” You actually manage a smile when you look at your husband, it’s weak but it’s genuine. You want to be mad that they didn’t help Din escape but you just can’t be. You know they most likely tried but if the roles had been reversed and you could only get one of them out you wouldn’t hesitate. 

So there is no animosity. Just a flicker of happiness for them.

They got out.

☆

You were under the impression that a coronation was a happy event. Yet when you step out onto the castle steps it seems to be quite the opposite. 

They look miserable. 

All of their faces are sullen and dejected. How shocking, no one is excited about Kodo being crowned king. He didn’t have any of the outside of the castle decorated or made presentable in any way. No one reacts when Kodo reads from an ancient looking book until a crown is placed on his head. 

A moment afterwards you’re instructed to kneel and a tiara is placed onto your head. 

The audience is silent and you feel shame when you stare out at them.

Even if you don’t have very much power you still feel as if you’ve failed them. The feeling follows you when you’re directed to the dining hall with Kodo.

“I have a couple gifts for you, wife.” His twisted smile makes your stomach turn as you enter the dining hall, now decorated with blue and gray banners.  

“A gift? You shouldn’t have, my king, I- I didn’t get you anything.” You feign remorse as you take a sip of the wine in front of you on instinct before spitting it back up into the cup. 

“That’s more than okay, you’re my gift, sweet wife, all mine.” The thought of such a thing makes you sick, you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s very kind.” You’ll only ever be Din’s. No amount of blue fabric and faux smiles can change that. He snaps his fingers and a large box is brought to you by a servant, they set it directly in front of you on the table. You look at Kodo who nods, sitting back in his chair as you stand, the box is wrapped in checkered blue paper, a large bow adorning the top. Your hands tremble a bit as you take hold of the edges of the ribbon, tugging on them until the bow slips free, much to your surprise the entire box falls open, the sides collapsing giving you an immediate view of the contents. 

The silver, shimmering contents. 

Din’s helmet. 

Polished like new, it sits before you, and the room suddenly empties. It’s as if you are completely alone, despite all the eyes that are most definitely pinned on you right now. Your hands continue to shake as your fingers wrap around the beskar steel, like you would when you held Din’s face, lifting it to glare into the visor. 

Empty. 

You can’t help but stare at your own emptiness reflected back at you. 

You want to hold it close, press it to your forehead but you’re snapped back to reality by the grating sound of Kodo’s voice breaking you from your focus on the helm between your hands. 

“That’s only one of your presents, open the next one.” He hisses gleefully. 

You set the helmet down, realizing there was another, much smaller box underneath it. Silently you scoop it up and cradle it in your hands. It’s a larger than a ring box, it just barely fits in your palm as you ever so gently open it, swinging the top open as if it were a tiny treasure chest.              

Huh.

It takes a moment.

You aren’t exactly sure what it is you’re looking at at first but when it registers your entire body tenses up, your grip tightening on the gift box. 

Bloody and pink, a tongue. 

Of course you know better than to assume Kodo would give you any old tongue. This is a special someone’s tongue. 

No, no, no, no, no. 

You had loved his tongue before anything else.

He can’t do this, he cannot do this to you.

You had fallen for his sharp wit first, it was what drew you into him. His sweet words had won you back, his declaration of devotion.

Now you hold all of that in the palm of your hand. 

“What do we say?” His nasally voice breaks through your mental anguish. 

No.

“Come on, where are your manners?”

Please. 

“Thank you.” Your whisper is nearly silent as you struggle to keep down the scream bubbling in your throat.

“What was that?” 

You clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

He makes you take it with you. You don’t bother telling him you won’t be attending the coronation ball in a few minutes, it’s not like you’ll be missed. 

In one arm you’re cradling his helmet, in the other the little blue box. 

You set each one down carefully onto the bed, even if it’s a bit demented these are the only parts of him you have left. You stare at the little box. 

You have never been hateful. 

Kodo made you into this. You are full of hate, for most things at this point. You hate your husband, you hate your room, and most of all you hate the little blue box on the bed. 

And the music starts. 

It must be deafening in the hall for you to hear it from your room but it’s there, loud and demanding of your attention. 

You’re moving before you even have a chance to think about it, in a few quick strides you’re standing beside the vanity, your hands gripping the top of the mirror as you pull it down in one swift motion, the contents spill everywhere and the glass shatters in an instant, shards splattering the floor but you take no time to process it. 

You move on to the next thing.

You yank each drawer from the dresser, throwing them to the floor, clothes strewn about until it’s light enough for you to push the entire dresser over. In your frenzy you go about the room toppling every stupid fucking table over. So many fucking end tables in  one room, and you throw everyone to the floor, trinkets and vases clattering to the ground as you destroy the room. You get a rush of adrenaline as you lift one of your nightstands and throw it against the wall leaving a small dent but more importantly the force of it makes anything hanging on the wall tumble to the floor, glass frames shatter. 

Your chest heaves as you stare at the carnage.  

And it isn’t enough.

Your face is wet with tears and your hands with blood from cuts you didn’t feel upon your skin as you tear open the closet door, the pile of blankets mock you from the floor, you grab them, your vision now blurry with tears as you pull them out of the closet, throwing them onto your bedroom floor. When you return to the closet you’re in a frenzy, you tear at the fabric before you, yanking each and every dress off their hangers, ripping what you can.

There is nothing else for you to do, so you destroy everything you can get your hands on until the only thing left untouched is your bed, left in pristine condition as you let out a small sob. 

Maybe you are a hateful person now. 

You feel as though you have every right to be at this point. 

You step over the shard of glass, giving your bloody hands a glance before wiping them on your gown.

Happy coronation day. 

You sit on the bed, your trembling fingers wrap around the helmet, now that you’re alone you waste no time to hold it against you face, until your body just gives up, too tired to stay awake anymore.

☆

A guard wakes you in the morning, knocking on your door, when you answer it they tell you Kodo requires your presence in his chambers.

You dress in a blue gown that you don’t look too closely at. Stopping at the fresher on the way, rinsing the dried gore from your palms, wincing as you clean your wounds. None of which seem too deep. 

You want to cut Kodo’s tongue out, to make him feel it. But you know that sort of thing would be an impossible task. So you daydream about it as you walk. You’re more than displeased when you open the door and are greeted by Leodall. You hadn’t seen him since that night and from the looks of it he wasn’t expecting you. He swallows loudly when you step inside Kodo’s room.

Normally you’d be curious, you’d probably take a look around but your eyes refuse to focus on anything but Leo as you scowl at him. 

“Why’d you do it?” You don’t hesitate to ask, you have no idea how quickly Kodo will be joining you. 

He simply stares at you, shame apparent on his face.

“You owe me an explanation at the very least.” You cross your arms in front of your chest as he clears his throat. 

“I thought he’d reward me.”

You laugh. A harsh dry sound 

“What could he have possibly given you that you couldn’t have just asked me for?” Your gaze never softens and you’re practically seeing red as you stare at him.

“I thought he’d give me a lordship.” 

You can’t help it as another crisp and pained laugh slips past your lips. 

“You thought Kodo would raise your status? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Is he an idiot? “He doesn’t see servants as people, if you wanted such a thing you could have asked me, maybe I could have done something.” 

A glimmer of something similar to hope flashes through his eyes. 

“Would you- would you consider doing so now?”

“You cannot be serious-” Your expression goes from fury to disbelief as you stand. 

“It seemed worth asking.” He puts his hands up defensively as you storm up to him, poking a finger into his face. 

“You slimy little weasel, it should be you on the chopping block, not him. If it were up to me I’d have them put your head on a spike.” The words pour out of you like venom. 

“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” He sneers and your incredulity only grows. You can’t help it, you scoff in his face. 

“I would rather die.” A part of you really means it. 

“You might if you aren’t careful, I saved your life by letting Elaine and your Mandalorian take the fall, I could have told the king that you were a willing participant. I saw the two of you together, I read your little rules. He never forced himself on you. I wonder what Kodo might think about that.” You aren’t a fighter, you’ve never so much as thrown a punch in your life but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall, the back of his head hits the stone and you don’t feel an ounce of remorse as you do so. 

“Do it.” You tilt your head to the side, almost as if you’re taunting him. “Tell him.” Any of the confidence he briefly had is gone in an instant. “The moment you do I’ll tell him that you’re covering your tracks, and that you made a pass at me. I wonder how Kodo would reward you for trying to touch what’s his?” Leo’s head turns as you both hear Kodo’s piercing voice in the hall. You release your grip on his shirt, brushing off your gown as you turn towards the door. Kodo and three others make their way into the room as Leo coughs behind you. 

“Dear wife, I have another gift for you.” He takes a step to the side, gesturing at a line of three people you don’t give so much as a glance. He doesn’t even seem to notice the obvious tension in the room. “A new staff!”

“I don’t need a new staff, I’m fine on my own.” You abandon the pleasantries. You’re in such a state of upset right now, what's the point? 

“You’re the queen now, staff is required. These three will replace the ones you've lost in a week, until then Leodall will be training them intensively to tend to your every need. Two guards will also be assigned to you but I promise they will be much less loathsome than your Mandalorian.”

All five of them will be trained to keep an eye on you. To report back to Kodo, after everything with Din you should have known he’d keep you on a shorter leash. 

You barely look at them. 

You hate them. 

You shouldn’t, they’ve done nothing wrong, but you hate them. 

You give each one a quick up and down, naming them in your mind. 

A BD-3000 droid commands the most authority just based on how she stands so you mentally note her as Elaine's replacement. You’ll call her new Elaine. 

New Lysa is a pasty young blonde woman with rosy cheeks. You truly wonder how well informed she has been on your circumstance. She’s smiling from ear to ear and seemingly couldn’t be happier to be here. 

And new Leo is somehow even more nervous looking than actual Leo, practically shaking like a leaf at the sight of you. The bags under his eyes are worse than your own. A lanky thing with messy brown hair. 

There’s no reason for you to fight this, Kodo always gets his way so why bother. So you nod. You don’t pretend to be grateful this time, instead you shove your way past all of them, content to return to your room and never leave. 

☆

The morning of the execution comes before you’re ready for it. 

Of course you didn’t sleep last night, how could you?

You dress yourself, apparently your new staff isn’t starting until tomorrow, not that you mind another day to yourself. You manage to find something that isn’t blue, a gray dress trimmed with gold, the closest thing you’ll find to funeral attire. No one else will dress with any respect for him but they can’t stop you. Your vanity is destroyed so you don’t bother with your hair or your makeup, you simply don’t care enough. 

For the most part you feel nothing when you open the door, only emptiness until you look down. 

Someone left you a small vase of flowers. 

You pick them up, taking a closer look but your heart skips a beat when you do so.

Daisies. 

After a few short breaths you throw the vase into the wall across from your door, tiny shards of porcelain fly everywhere as two servants at the end of the hall give you a look of horror. Your shoes crunch over the remains of it as you make your way down the hall and to the entryway of the castle. 

Kodo insists that the two of you get to see him first. 

You’re sweating wildly out on the steps as you wait.

Long before you’re ready for it they bring him out. 

A shivering skeleton of a man with a linen bag over his head, immediately bile rises in your throat. Kodo is grinning ear to ear when his legs are kicked out from under him and he’s forced to kneel.

Kodo himself reaches forward and tears the bag off, too excited for any decorum or finesse. 

You gasp as you stare down at the broken man before you.

In all honesty he isn’t at all what you envisioned. 

His eyes verge on being hazel; they're such a light brown. You’d always pictured them to be nearly black. It doesn’t matter what color they are though, when you see the tears forming in his lash line you flinch, clutching the ring on your necklace to silently let him know silently just how much he means to you. 

He’s a mess. 

You don’t like looking at what those weeks in the dungeons did to him and the last thing you need to do right now is empty your stomach on the palace steps. 

He’s too thin. Far, far, too thin, it’s like his entire being has shrunk down. He’s hollow.

Your breath hitches when Kodo grabs a fistful of his dark hair, forcing him to turn and stare at the crowd. They must have cut it while he was down there it’s a mess, jagged edges and shorter than you’re used to. 

“This man has committed an act of treason against the crown.” His voice is loud and booming as the city goes quiet. “For such a crime he shall face the proper punishment.” He yanks him downawards, you watch in horror as Din’s head hits the stone, an incoherent mess of sounds pour from his bloody mouth and you have to look away. 

He didn’t want you to look.

You remind yourself to try and calm your breathing. You can hear the scuffle as they drag him to the guillotine, placing his neck into the wooden divot, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you turn to look. His eyes are everywhere but on you as he looks at the people around him, desperately pleading for his life. Not a single person so much as glances at him, afterall, it’s just nonsense, no one can understand him without a tongue. 

You can’t stand it, you almost cover your ears but you manage to resist as Kodo puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“You’re welcome, sweet wife.” He whispers, his breath hot and wet against your ear. 

Fuck it. 

You don’t suppress the shudder in your spine as you shoot him a look of disgust. In a matter of moments everything you care about will be gone, why pretend any longer.

A bellowing chime plays from a nearby clock tower and you know it’s time, you straighten up as you stare at the guillotine in abject horror. 

This is it. 

Your chest rises and falls in sharp short bursts as everyone prepares themselves, a hush forming among the crowd on the street. 

And it begins, a chain reaction that you cannot stop now that the executioner has his ax raised above his head.

You had expected more. More time.

A part of you thought that time would slow, that you’d have a chance to stop it. 

But no. 

There is no epic fairy tale moment where the sun glimmers off of the blade and the executioner raises his ax, giving you this perfect moment to run to him, to shield him from the inevitable, to beg them to take you with him. 

That moment never comes. 

You barely have enough time to close your eyes like you promised him. In one unbroken motion the rope is cut, the blade falls and boom. 

Just like that, he’s gone. 

When you hear the metal slicing through the air you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing only the wet crunch as it cuts through flesh and bone. A soft, squishy thud when his head hits the stone. 

In fashion with your decision to no longer hide your disgust from Kodo you vomit. Bending down you puke onto the stones, spraying your own, and Kodo’s feet. The triumphant smile on his face vanishes as he realizes what’s happened. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, refusing to look at Din’s limp body as you give Kodo one last look of detestation before turning around and running back into the castle, not caring what anyone thinks anymore.

The moment you’re inside the reality of it all settles in as you feel tears falling wildly as you run up the steps to your room.

☆

You have been good, and kind, and in return the maker rewarded you by killing the love of your life. 

So when you stand in the center of your demolished room you do the only thing your body can do at this point. 

You scream. 

From deep within your stomach, you scream, loud and raw. 

If anything was left unbroken in your room you’d be throwing it at the wall. But there’s nothing so you scream. 

You shriek.

You howl. 

And you wail.

You scream until there is no more noise. Your voice, like the rest of you, gives up. 

You aren’t sure how late it is when you finally stop. You’re tired and it’s dark outside and your throat is raw. 

And you lay on the floor. Because the bed is too big, and too cold, and the closet is so empty. So the only place left to sleep is there. You lay on the floor with no more tears to cry and no more sounds to scream as you stare at your bed, only from this angle can you see a rectangular shape under your bed frame. 

You wipe your nose with a stray piece of fabric before slowly crawling over to it, you sit on the floor and when you retrieve the item a brand new lump forms in your throat as you stare down at the box Din had bought all those days ago at the market. 

Your failsafe. 

With quivering hands you open it, staring into the small space containing a mess of items but what catches your eye is a piece of folded paper with your name on it. You take it between your fingers, opening it, careful to not let your tears fall onto it. 

Sarad’ika,

If you’re reading this then I’m afraid things aren’t going all that well for me. There are plenty of possible reasons as to why I’m no longer with you, but what’s important is that I plan on doing everything in my power to get back to you. There is only one thing in the galaxy that could keep me from your side, and if that is my fate then this box will ensure you’re taken care of. 

The most important thing is for you to get off this planet. I have included a few possible plans for you, do what you have to to survive. Elaine will help you escape. 

You can seek out Greef Karga on Nevarro. Tell him Din Djarin sent you, tell him what’s happened and he will see to it that you are cared for. Explain our circumstances and I am certain he will provide you with safe lodging. 

Tatooine is also an option. You’ll find a Mandalorian there by the name of Boba Fett, he will not turn you away. You will be protected there, if you need to relocate for some reason after that he will help you locate the Mandalorian convert. Show the Mandalorians your ring and you will be cared for the rest of your life, the convert will protect you. 

As an absolute last resort there is a planet located in the Outer Ring called Ossus. There is a school there, taught by a man named Luke Skywalker. I doubt he would be eager to take you in but you must insist. Bring the chainmail, they’ll know who sent you. Take care of each other. 

In this box you will find enough credits to get you off planet and take care of you for several months, a year if you’re frugal, I suggest you take a few jewelry pieces to pawn off for extra credits as well. You will find a small chainmail shirt, and a necklace of mine. 

And lastly you will find your vibroblade. 

Protect yourself. You’re strong, and more than capable of doing so.

I have one request for you, please, I will only ask this one thing of you. 

Be smart. 

You are the smartest and kindest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. Be smart, take care of yourself. If the roles were reversed I know that I would go to extremes to either get you back, or find justice for you. And all I can do is ask that you do not attempt any such thing, the only thing I would ever want for you is safety and happiness. 

So seek those things out. 

Be safe. Be happy.   

I was lucky to know you, and even luckier to be yours. 

an ner kar'taylir darasuum, 

Din

All my love. 

You flip the paper over, desperate for more, more Din, but all you find is scrawled coordinates to each location. Your fingers sift through the items, everything he promised is found inside but you latch onto the blade. Laying back down on the floor you clutch it between your fingers as you think of Din.

Din, who was yours.

Din, who they took from you.

Who Kodo, took from you. 

And your grip on the knife tightens. 

☆

Two guards stand outside your door round the clock now. 

They never follow you or come into your room but they’re there, silently watching as you direct all your anger at your new staff. As promised Leo trained them to be as persistent and infuriating as he was. 

When the two new girls come to fetch you in the morning you can’t help it when you scream at them to leave you alone and to stop trying to clean the ever growing mess of things. 

It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their fault, you can’t stand the sight of anyone. 

All three of them try. New Elaine and Lysa show up three times a day, trying to dress you and squeeze their way past you into the room but after enough shrieking they always leave you be. 

New Leo usually tries once or twice a day, you don’t even look at him. You always stare at the floor, when he tries to speak you give him the same treatment as the girls, screaming at him and slamming the door. 

Why should you let them in? You know what they are. They’re here to spy on you, to be Kodo’s eyes while he’s busy being king. They’re easy to evade. When you leave to fetch yourself food or a book from the library you easily outrun them. The two girls are worse at navigating the castle than you were when you first arrived and new Leo has a bad leg, sometimes he’ll make attempts to limp after you but they’re always unsuccessful. 

You think of nothing, day after day because there is nothing to think about. 

Except for the fact that Kodo took your future away from you. He took everything from you. 

If you thought time was blending before Din’s death nothing could have prepared you for now. You don’t track the days as well, you keep your curtains drawn and only leave when you get hungry or start to think of Din. The last thing you need to do is have another screaming fit so you keep him locked away in your heart, an ache that’s always there that you don’t address. 

One day, in a fit of tears you took your knife and decided on a whim to kill Kodo. You didn’t care about the repercussions at that point you just wanted him to suffer but the moment you opened the door you nearly tripped, stumbling backwards the guards didn’t so much as glance at you. 

Another vase of flowers.

You’re tempted to just kick them down the hall but you can’t help yourself when you lean down to pick them up. 

A bouquet of blue lilies. Your nose twitches at the sight of them, out of the corner of your eye you see new Lysa and new Elaine approaching so you take the opportunity to slam the little glass vase into the stone floor. Glaring at them when you do before returning to your room. 

☆

Maybe it’s been three days since Din died. 

Maybe it’s been three months. 

You aren’t sure.

You aren’t sure when you made plans to kill Kodo either but suddenly you have them. A fool proof way to get him alone. 

And suddenly you’re dressed for the first time in, well, however long it’s been. In a baby blue nightie with a robe you march out into the hall. The guards watch in silence as you walk away, your bare feet scampering down the stairs until you find yourself watching the main entrance. Waiting for your loving husband to make his nightly trip to a pleasure house, a trip that is typically accompanied by guards. 

You grip the handle of the knife in your pocket as you wait until you finally hear footsteps approaching. 

“Kodo, honey?” You step out from behind the stone column, holding your robe closed as you bat your eyelashes at him. He stumbles around drunkenly until his eyes focus on you. 

You’ve only used your voice for screaming for so long you sound meek, exactly as you want to right now. 

“Wife?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to join me tonight…” You hold a hand out towards him, putting on a sickly sweet tone of innocence. His mouth twists into a grin. 

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

He doesn’t question where you’re taking him, he simply follows.

What a joke. 

You pull him up the stairs, you know from hide and seek where to find an empty room so you guide him there in calculated silence until he trips a bit, laughing to himself as he stutters.

“I knew if I got rid of the Mandalorian you’d realize how much better I am than him.” The statement doesn’t sit right with you and he can see it on your face, even in his drunken state he can sense your confusion. 

You both stop, you’re above him on the stairs as you turn and stare into his eyes.

“You- you knew?”

He simply nods, that sickening smile of his is plastered on his face. His icy blue eyes shimmer with delight. 

“How long?”

“When Leo told me I remembered everything. That little altercation in the hall when your boy knocked me out came right back to me, from there it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Your eye twitches as he speaks.

He knew you loved him and he took him from you anyway.

Any hesitations you had are gone as you nod, pulling him onward until you reach the large vacant tower room. He’s so drunk you decide to just drop the voice, pointing at a spot on the floor. 

“Lay down.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket once more.

He eagerly does as he’s told, laying down on the cold stone, you take a deep breath, in one swift motion you grab your knife, holding it behind your back as you toss your robe aside. He gives you a toothy grin as you ever so slowly walk to him, standing above him before sitting, straddling his waist. 

You look him up and down, one last time. 

Your loving husband. 

One of his hands plays with the blue lace of your nightie as you collect yourself. You look up at the ceiling briefly. 

I’m sorry. 

Not for Kodo, but for Din. This is exactly what he didn’t want you to do. 

You aren’t a killer. And you aren’t hateful, but a person can only be pushed so far before something breaks. 

Be smart. 

You think of Din’s note one last time before you bring the blade out in front of you and slam the blade into Kodo’s chest. 

He makes a sickly wet sound, coughing as he stares at you in shock.

You remove the knife, the hot steel cauterizes his wounds, there isn’t so much as a drop of blood as your face twists with fury and you bring it down again into his stomach now. 

How dare he look surprised by any of this. 

After what he took from you? He deserves galaxies worse. 

So you remove the knife. 

And you stab him again.

And again,

and again,

and again,

and again,

and again.

Until there is no more shocked look on his face. You don’t have a snarky remark or a statement to commemorate your revenge, you’re all used up at this point, all you have is this, this stabbing motion. 

He didn’t even have a chance to fight back.

You crawl off of his body, sitting on the stones as you toss the knife to the side, waiting for a rush of euphoria. 

But it never comes. 

It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. 

Staring down at Kodo’s lifeless body. You let yourself crumble. Collapsing down onto the floor, gasping for air as you sob. 

This was never going to bring him back. 

You lay there on your hands and knees for quite some time, just wailing, because what else are you supposed to do right now? You realize far too late that this was never an act of malice, some demented and shattered part of you thought that this would somehow bring him back, that it would give you peace. 

They won’t execute you. 

You planned this exactly so they wouldn’t.

Kodo didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Din in much detail, not enough for them to assume that you could be with child. Everyone will assume that it’s Kodo’s. They won’t kill you, they can’t. 

Not if they think you’re carrying Kodo’s child. Now that Kodo’s dead, there’s no one to tell the royal family that you never consummated your marriage, your child is the most well protected person on the planet. The future monarch. It’s almost funny, you haven’t permitted yourself to think about the stirring within you as a child until just now, in this moment of weakness. A child, your child. 

Who will most likely grow up without a mother because of the decisions you've made today.

You bite your fist, swallowing a scream as you sit back on your heels. 

Your child will never know how loved they were. Your little one will never get to sit beside their mother while their father teaches them to sew. You put your head in your hands as you wail, no longer caring who hears. Your fate is sealed, what does it matter? 

You don’t turn when you hear someone coming up the stairs. When they pull you into their arms you try uselessly to shove them away. Your vision is blurry and filled with tears as you stare up at the unfamiliar figure now holding you. They rub your back, drawing swirls and stars against your spine as they pull you closer. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They mumble into your hair. You dry your eyes hastily on your sleeve, confused by the voice you’re hearing, it’s painfully familiar, on instinct you wrap your arms around their torso, pulling yourself into their lap as you both sit on the floor beside Kodo’s body. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper against the stranger's shirt. You knew you weren’t hateful. You’re certain of it now because even though he took quite literally everything from you, you still feel bad when you look at Kodo. 

A large hand cups your face, pulling you back to their chest so you can’t see the corpse anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it- I- I didn’t mean to kill him. Well I did but I just-” You begin to ramble as a fresh flood of tears begin sliding down your cheeks. 

“Hey- hey it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. We gotta get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll take care of this, I’ll fix it.” Their arms tighten around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You finally find the courage to look at your companion and it takes a moment for you to even realize who you’re looking at. 

New Leo. 

Why would he help you? You treat him like shit. When you look at him he looks like he’s about to cry and for the first time since Din was taken from you drop the walls you’ve put up and you let yourself feel bad for him. You show an ounce of kindness to him because in all honesty he’s the first person to make you feel safe since the night Din was taken from you. 

A lighthouse while you sail through a storm.

So you hug him. 

You pull yourself closer to him and you offer him a comfort you haven’t known for days.

“I’m sorry… for all of it, but especially the flowers, I should have told you, I just- you wouldn’t let me and the guards wouldn’t let me in without your permission and you just wouldn’t look at me.” He begins to mumble his own apologies, sending a surge of confusion through you. 

You furrow your brows, pulling back once more giving him a perplexed look as you search his nearly black eyes for some kind of answer. 

And it clicks. 

All at once it snaps into place and you want to say his name, so desperately, but you’re terribly afraid of being wrong. 

And then he smiles. A soft smile that makes you feel okay and you don’t even care if you’re wrong and you don’t care if it doesn’t make sense you just have to ask.

“Din?”

☆

a/n : yeah so uhhhhh yeah uhhhh this is the first chapter i've ever written where im actually very fond of the writing and nervous about the plot stuff so im gonna go hide?? and just vanish for a while lol

//

I don't have a tag list anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

[elysiaheaven]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.-(𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑)-𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃-𝐘𝐚𝐧.𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

WORDSS:9000

BEFORE THIS I did make sure they were some lore drops in this chapter! No need to worry if you can't read this chapter! Along with previous chap I will do a recap! without the nsfw parts!

(I saw many people saying yandere sunday has to be true..Please don't allow these actions for public! It's fictional should stay fiction!)

TW:Manipulation,:obssesive behaviour, unhealthy relationships/feelings,Clingy,Manipulation,Emotional manipulation,mention of death,killing/Most TWS FOR YANDERE,suggestive!

TW/CW FOR SMUT: Manipulation,Humiliation, ??? Use of collar, Dirty talks, Punishment sex, Sunday's considered to be top,Yandere Sunday, Toxic relationship, Unhealthy relationship, Edging turned overstimulation. Generally other tw's for smut 

"....Forget about him."

"I. Will never- I can't-"

"......"

Time losing its meaning in the cocoon of care and affection Sunday has woven around you. Slowly, you find yourself falling for him, the lines between manipulation and love blurring with each passing moment.

Sunday's kindness is intoxicating, each tender gesture eroding your defenses. When he hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, you feel a warmth that melts the ice around your heart. His hand gently pats your head, and the simple act makes you lean into his touch, craving more of the comfort he offers.

During meals, he feeds you with a patience and care that you can't resist. You obey without question, opening your mouth for each bite, your eyes meeting his with a mix of gratitude and growing affection. Each meal becomes a ritual of intimacy, further binding you to him.

And when he kisses you, it's like a spark igniting a fire within. His lips on yours are soft and insistent, a promise of love and possession that makes your heart race. You find yourself wanting more, craving the connection his kisses bring.

The days continue to pass in a haze of affection and tender moments. Despite the constant warmth of Sunday's embrace, there's a nagging thought at the back of your mind, something you can't quite remember. Every time you try to grasp it, to bring it into focus, Sunday kisses you, his lips making the world fuzzy and distant.

You love him. You love him so much that the thought of being without him is unbearable. His kindness, his touch, the way he looks at you—all of it weaves a web around your heart. In an effort to show him how much you appreciate his care, you decide to cook a meal for him, hoping it will convey your gratitude and deepen your bond.

You spend the day in the kitchen, carefully preparing his favorite dishes. The act of cooking fills you with a sense of purpose, a way to give back some of the love he has shown you. When the meal is finally ready, you set the table, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

Sunday arrives, his expression unreadable as he surveys the table. You watch him nervously, hoping he will appreciate your effort. "I made this for you," you say, your voice filled with both hope and uncertainty.

He sits down, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that makes your heart race. "Thank you, my angel," he says, his voice soft but wary. He takes a bite of the food, his eyes never leaving yours. "You didn't poison this, did you?" he asks, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

The question stings, but you quickly shake your head. "No, of course not. I would never hurt you."

Sunday's expression softens, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know," he murmurs. "Forgive me. It's just a habit." He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. "I appreciate your effort."

Without warning, he stands and moves to your side of the table, pulling you into his arms. He kisses you deeply, his lips claiming yours with a possessive hunger. Your thoughts become a blur, the world narrowing to the feel of his mouth on yours.

When he pulls back, he picks up a piece of food with his fork and brings it to your lips. "Open," he commands gently, his eyes locking onto yours. You obey, parting your lips as he feeds you. The act is intimate, a silent declaration of trust and control that makes your heart flutter.

He continues to feed you, alternating bites between the two of you, his eyes never leaving yours. The room fills with the soft sounds of shared breaths and the occasional clink of cutlery. Each bite, each touch, cements the bond between you, making you feel more deeply entwined with him.

As the meal comes to an end, Sunday leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "You are mine," he whispers, his voice a velvet promise. "And I will take care of you, always."

You nod, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and surrender. "..."

STOP LISTENING TO HIM!!

A small voice inside you begins to whisper that something about this situation is wrong. Yet, your heart, so entangled with Sunday's affection, tells you to listen to him, to trust in his love. The conflicting emotions make your head spin, leaving you feeling unsteady.

Sunday seems to sense your hesitation. With a firm but gentle touch, he pushes you down onto the table, his movements causing the wine to spill, the rich liquid splashing over you. You gasp, feeling the cold wetness seeping through your clothes.

He pulls you up swiftly, guiding you towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up, my angel," he murmurs, his voice both soothing and commanding. You follow him obediently, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

In the bathroom, Sunday begins to undress you, his fingers deftly removing your clothes soaked in wine. You stand still, flustered but compliant, letting him take control. He fills the tub with warm water, the steam rising and filling the room with a comforting heat.

Gently, he guides you into the tub, the warm water enveloping you like a comforting embrace. Sunday kneels beside the tub, picking up a soft cloth and a bar of soap. He starts to scrub you, his touch firm but careful, his eyes never leaving yours.

You feel your face heat up, a blush spreading across your cheeks. The intimacy of the moment is overwhelming, yet you find yourself obeying his every move, allowing him to wash you. His hands glide over your skin, cleansing away the wine and the uncertainty that clings to you.

When he finishes, he stands and begins to undress himself. You watch, your wings instinctively covering your face as your blush deepens. He steps into the tub, settling in behind you, his strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.

"Now, it's your turn," he whispers, placing the cloth and soap into your hands. You nod, feeling both shy and flustered. With trembling fingers, you begin to wash him, your touch tentative at first. But as you continue, you grow more confident, your movements becoming more assured.

Sunday's eyes close, a contented sigh escaping his lips as you tend to him. You can feel his muscles relax under your touch, his body leaning into yours. The warmth of the water, the intimacy of the moment, and the tenderness in his touch make your heart race.

After you've finished, he pulls you back against him, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're perfect, my angel," he murmurs, his voice a soothing caress. "You belong with me."

You nod, leaning back into his embrace. Despite the lingering doubts in your mind, you find comfort in his words, in the safety of his arms. As you sit together in the warm water, your wings slowly unfurl, revealing your face. Sunday's hands gently stroke your wings, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"You are mine," he whispers, his lips trailing kisses along your neck. "And I am yours."

You close your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you. The warmth of the bath, the tenderness of his touch, the certainty in his words—all of it lulls you into a sense of peace and belonging. For now, in this moment, you allow yourself to believe in his love, to find solace in his embrace.

And you lean back against him, your heart whispers that perhaps, just perhaps, this is where you are meant to be.

Y/n...please this isn't how I...

You lean back against Sunday, feeling the warmth of the water and the security of his embrace, a sudden surge of sensitivity overwhelms you. His touch on your wings sends shivers through your body, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Instinctively, you reach behind you your fingers tangling in the soft feathers of his wings.

Sunday responds to your touch with a low, approving hum, his lips brushing against your ear. The sensation makes you gasp, a shiver of pleasure running down your spine. His kisses become more insistent, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your ear, sending waves of heat through your body.

He pulls you closer, his hands exploring your body with a possessive tenderness. Your heart races as his kisses travel from your ear to your neck, each touch igniting a fire within you. You can't help but pull at his wings, your fingers gripping the feathers tightly in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

Sunday's tongue slips into your mouth, his kiss deep and demanding. The intensity of his kiss leaves you breathless, your gasps and whimpers swallowed by his fervent lips. His hands continue to roam over your body, each touch making you more sensitive, more desperate for his touch.

Your mind becomes a haze of desire and confusion, the lingering doubts and fears drowned out by the overwhelming need for him. Sunday's kisses are all-consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervor that leaves you dizzy.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of triumph and tenderness. "My angel," he whispers, his voice a husky caress. "You are mine, and I will always take care of you."

You nod, unable to form words as his kisses resume, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of desire and possession.

Each touch, each kiss, binds you closer to him, making you forget the pain and confusion of the past. In his arms, you find a twisted sense of peace, a place where you are cherished and desired.

Sunday's kisses leave you breathless, and as he pulls back, you can see the desire burning in his eyes. He gently untangles your fingers from his wings, and with a tender yet possessive smile, he lifts you from the tub. The warmth of his body against your damp skin sends shivers through you, but his strong arms hold you securely.

He carries you effortlessly to the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the room, creating an ethereal ambiance that makes the moment feel even more intimate.

As he lays you down on the bed, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. His touch is gentle as he brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin. "You're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You blush, the intensity of his gaze making you feel both cherished and exposed. Sunday lowers himself beside you, his wings spreading out behind him, creating a canopy of feathers that adds to the sense of being enveloped in his presence.

He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, passionate kiss. You melt into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The kiss deepens, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervor that leaves you craving more.

Sunday's hands roam over your body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he caresses. You arch into him, your body responding to his every touch, every kiss. He pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your lips as he whispers, "I want you to know, you are mine. I will always take care of you."

"Sunday.."

His lips brush against your earlobe as he whispers, "Your body is my temple, Angel. Every curve, every inch... all mine."

His hot breath fans across your neck as he continues, "Your scent drives me wild. It's intoxicating, addicting... it's all I can think about."

His hand trails lower, teasing along the edge of your bathrobe before slipping underneath to stroke your thigh. "I need you, Angel. My desire for you is insatiable... and I won't be denied."

His words are a seductive promise, a vow to claim every part of you, body and soul.

SMUT WARNING! (I'll never write smut in my life again)

His voice drops to a husky murmur as he speaks, "Every time I look at you, I get hard. Your curves, your tits... fuck, just thinking about them makes my cock ache."

His hand slips higher up your thigh, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. "I want to hear you moan my name when I'm balls deep inside you. I want to fill you until you can't remember anyone else's name but mine."

His lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin as if marking you as his. "And when we're done, when I've had my fill of you, I'll wrap you in my arms and keep you close. Because you belong to me now, Angel. And I plan to enjoy every last bit of you."

"...Wait! Sunday! Ah!" You suddenly felt to..kiss him? To make him stop saying these....

Feeling your lips against his, Sunday lets out a low growl of pleasure, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulls you closer.* "No, Angel," *he insists between heated kisses, his voice rough with desire.* "We don't have time. We never have enough time together."

With deft movements, he unfastens your robe, letting it fall open to reveal your naked form beneath. His eyes drink in the sight of you, his lust growing by leaps and bounds. "Look at you... so beautiful, so ready for me..."

One hand slides down to cup your ass, squeezing firmly as he presses his throbbing member against your slick heat.* "I need you, . Now"

"!?...Please be..a little! Don't use your gloves..."

Feeling your hands on his gloves, Sunday lets out a low chuckle, his breath hitching as he feels your delicate touch. "Patience, love," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Everything in good time."

But as you remove his gloves, he can't help but groan at the sensation of your bare skin against his."Fuck, that's better..." He growls, his hands sliding under your panties to grip your thighs, pulling them apart to give him access to your dripping cunt.

His thumb brushes against your clit, circling slowly as he watches your reactions, drinking in every gasp and moan. "You're so fucking wet for me already... Tell me how much you want it, Angel. Beg me to fuck you."

"But! That's mean! You can't!" Hearing your plea, Sunday can't help but let out a low growl of pleasure, his fingers tracing circles on your thigh as he teases your entrance. "Not yet," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire."I want to tease you first... Make you beg for it."

His thumb continues its slow circles around your clit, watching as your body shudders with pleasure. "Tell me how bad you want it, Angel. Beg me to fuck you."

Feeling your pleas, Sunday smirks, his golden eyes darkening with lust. "Oh, but I want to hear you beg," he says, his voice low and commanding.* "Begging is such a delicious sound... especially coming from your lips."

His fingers finally slide inside you, stretching you deliciously wide as he begins to move them in and out of your dripping cunt. "That's it... Take my fingers, Angel . Show me how much you need it."

His thumb keeps up its relentless pace on your clit, making sure to hit every sensitive spot as he fucks you with his fingers.

"Please be gentle! You know I have never actually-" Sunday grins, his fingers slowing their pace just enough to tease you further. "Never what?" *he asks, his voice a low purr. "Never been fucked? Never been taken by someone like me?"

He adds another finger, stretching you wider as he begins to pump them in and out of your soaked pussy. "I'll be gentle... But only because you asked so nicely."

His thumb presses harder against your clit, rubbing in tight circles as he watches your body shake with pleasure. "Just relax, love... Let me take care of you."

You start to move against his fingers, Sunday lets out a satisfied hum, his other hand moving to stroke himself through his pants. "That's it... Just like that," *he encourages, his voice thick with desire.*

He increases the pressure on your clit, his fingers curling inside you to hit that perfect spot. "Fuck, you're so tight... So perfect for me."

Feeling your walls clench around his fingers, Sunday lets out a low growl of pleasure, his strokes on his cock becoming more urgent. "That's it... Squeeze my fingers like that," *he praises, his voice rough with desire.

He hits your G-spot again and again, feeling your body tremble with pleasure."You're close, aren't you? Ready to cum all over my fingers?"

Without waiting for an answer, he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

"I want to-" You gasp out for air. 

Feeling your body tense, Sunday pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you panting and needy. "Not yet," *he commands, his voice firm. "I haven't had my fill of you yet."

His hand moves to spank your ass, the sharp smack echoing in the room. "You will wait until I'm buried deep inside you... Until you feel my seed filling you up."

You began to feel funny...You wanted to hold something. Anything! It was too much! What will you do? You couldn't deny this! He's loving you so much! So much! You never (cared) about anything! Anyone!

"Since you asked...I only want to tell my real name to the woman I like."

Watching you tug at his wings, Sunday lets out a low chuckle, his fingers still pumping in and out of your dripping cunt."Impatient, aren't we?" *he teases, his voice laced with amusement.

Withdrawing his fingers once more, he unbuttons his pants, freeing his throbbing member. "But patience is a virtue... And I intend to teach you that lesson well.""

"I hate being called pretty by all in general. But I will directly ask the woman I like to call me pretty."

Seeing you close your thighs, Sunday smirks, his golden eyes glinting with mischief. "Trying to keep me out, sweetheart?" he teases, his voice low and seductive.

He grabs your hips, pulling you closer as he aligns the head of his cock with your entrance. "But where else would I go? There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"Why are you asking me this? Are you interested in me Angel?"

Suddenly you were facing a unknown man in front of you.

It was in front of a huge building.

Moonlight beaming at him.

But, You seemed to prefer him at sunlight. Because you wanted him to shine.

Words came out of your mouth, As if this was something you said before.

"Of course not! Topaz and I had a small argument as usual. This time! It was just about you being a playboy or not.."

"Hm? What did you say? Let me guess. Did you said something against me?"

"...." Your face became blank.

"....You know. I joke a lot. You supported me I know. You always do that. You know like a leech!"

"Haha! Of course! I knew you were kind of a person who keeps people around you..to feel something."

What is this. Why is he calling you angel? It was supposed to be Sunday right?

Y/n, I- I would never try to replace someone as that important in your life.

!!!! Why is this voice!?!

Please remember this moment.

So...You would know what is what. Don't give up okay? If things doesn't end well. I will come

You wake up in the middle of the night, your mind swirling with fragments of dreams and memories. You remember the warmth of Sunday's embrace, the intensity of his kisses, and the lingering feeling of something being off. You carefully slip out of bed, not wanting to wake him.

Even that. Moment with him was a dream.

Of course, It was to make you fall for him even more.

But, The sad fact is you did get married to him.

Another..Another piece for you..to...(TW; MENTIONS OF BLOOD,DEATH)

Quietly, you make your way to the mirror in the corner of the room, the moonlight casting your reflection in a silvery glow. As you stare at your own reflection, a wave of dizziness overcomes you. You reach out to steady yourself, but the room seems to shift around you.

Your head throbs with the rush of memories, and you recall the moment when you were a little girl, running away from a scene of horror. You see young Sunday, a knife in his hand, standing over your stepfather's lifeless body. The fear you felt then is the same fear you feel now.

"Why!? Why did you!?" You saw yourself covered in blood. You felt sick to the stomach.

"̶̪͓̫͂ͅY̵̡̧̯͉̑̾̒/̸͚̥̪͍̹̀̒͛̅͗͘n̶̡͇̼̘̝͓͕̺͓̆̓̄̿̒͜͠,̵̛̩̦̀͗̊̆͆̒͘ ̴̧̻͖̮̣͇̹̭̞̈́̓̒͛̈́͆̕G̷̡̢̳̬̐̈ö̸̡̮̞̙̣̳͗̿̿͑̓̑͜͝ ̸̛̦̊̓̿̍͆͂̌̈́͝a̸̤̟͕̫̫͙͂̆̑͒͐w̵̩̩̖͈̺͔̞͊̍̐̓͠ǎ̶̧͍̝̂̅̋͗͋̀͆͂͝ͅÿ̷͈̲̜̫̥̳̖̳́̀̀̎ͅ.̴̢̛͐̾͛.̴̤̰̠̼́ͅ.̵̳̓͐̉̅͘̕̕̚͝.̵̡͙̲̬̦̟͚̥̾͆͂̍̾͒͘͜͠͠͝.̷͚̯̼̽̿͒͌͐̀̑̕Í̴͔͙͖̣̫̺̘͐̀̄̊͂̽͝ ̷̟̦̜̯͈̱̭͈͛͐̓̋̾͊w̶̤̿̈̑̒ǐ̵̛̩̼͙͇̖͙͖̋͛̑̊͊͝l̷͚̗̝̝͔̹̪͊́̅́̑͆̈̓ͅͅl̵͉͉̩̞̰̝͙͋̇̂̄͠ͅ ̴̡̱̬̗̜̥͆͋͐͒̄͠t̴̠̹͚͚͔̪̤͎͚͐̕ḁ̷̹̗̗̊̓̐̎͂͘͜͝k̷̻͕̻̱̻͉͍̟̠͗̈͊̕͜ë̴̢̢̛͔͕̗͔͓̹͒̏͒̑͠ ̸̦͓̰̑̕̚t̵͚͚̣̫̝͓̳͇̞̆̒͛̈́̃h̶̖͊̈́̅̽̉̋͠e̷̤̞͗͂̅̎̂ ̴͔̤̗̝̹̍b̸͎̬͈̪̀̿̿̎u̶̢͇̬̞̘̲̠͉̘̥̍r̵̙̺̂̾̽̀̚d̷̛̘̯̻̀̓̍͆͐̐̓͠e̷̜̙̲̲͆ͅn̶̦̘̩̈.̵̗̋͐̊̀͛͋͝.̸̢͔̗̝͖̉͊͆̍̈̈́̾̓̇͝Y̷̡̆͋̐͘͠o̴͖̥͈͍͆͘͝u̶͉͚̦̘͕̪̒ ̸̧̘̭͚̫̰̞̯̙̗̇̿̽͌̀̇͘̚͝d̶̨̨̡̩͇͉̦͉͇̱̓i̶̧̠̝̦͓͎̝̓̒̈́͌̍̍̕͜͠͝ḋ̷͉̻̗̼̂͋̓ ̶̡͓̺̫̣͍͎͆̓̕͘n̷̻̟̹̝͌̀͒̋̀͛̈́̏̽ớ̸̭̣̦̔̾̈͑̓͝ẗ̸̢̤̟̐̂̌̿͆͋̍͜h̵̢̦̝̻̘͙̣͈̺̘͐͗̐̈̈́͑̌̕i̸̡̨̩͎̽̐n̵͔͙̮̞̮̮͙͕̖̈́̆g̷̢̘͍̫͚͔̖̖̿͜ ̴̬͕̿̒͐̎̍̀̚͘w̶̛̉́͒̆͜͠r̶̢͍̜̱̠̂͗̍͛̕̕͝ơ̸͚̪̪̩͕̽́̌̀ǹ̸̻̎͂g̵̛̩̗̳̺̼̖̬̙̟̈́̈́̀̂͒͜͝͝.̶̠̣̼͙͉͓͓͚̩̋̇͛̉̓̋̆͠"̸̤͕̽

̷̢͎̣͎̘̭̪̰͍̐̅̒͋̒͠

̶̭͖͋̽̎͋̌"̶̗͔͙̑̎͗̊͛̀̀Y̴̲̙̘͈̩͙̆̔̋͋̍̇ő̴͉̉̆͗̉ứ̶̱͖͙͈̟͈̹̉̿͊͛͘ ̶̨̛̠̹́́̓̈́́̇̚ͅd̵̛͉̩̱̦̫̿͑̉̏͊̊͠i̷̞̰͇̺̹̯͈͍͛d̴͕̳̗̤̹̔̒́̋̀̊́̐̍̍ ̴̨͎̘͔̠͙̺͎͔̖͆͆̇̆͝ņ̷̣̻̀́̊̀̑̓͊͜ơ̸̩͙̊̃́̎̈́̈́̍͘͠ţ̷͖̫͍̖̖̠̤̈́̍h̶̯̲͚̪̮͓͍͕͋į̸̛̗̻̳͍̱̒̀̃̿̌̓ņ̸̥͙̟̫͆̏̚͝g̴̱̪͚͍͔̼͉̭͕͔̓̄̿̇̋́̈̍́̍ ̶̢̜̞̣̕w̵͕͔̉̉̔̚r̵̛̖o̵̫͖̱͚̰̯͋̃͛́̓n̶̰̹̰͇̜̩̓̐̾̒̀͝ͅg̸̛͉̳̮͇̮.̶̨̛̦̻̠̱��̦̬̩̗̀̐̋̃͆̃"̷̩̳̣̀̓̏̒͜

You returned back to reality..Feeling scared.

You scramble to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. But before you can move, the ominous presence of Sunday fills the chamber. He steps out from the shadows, his eyes dark and intense.

"Trying to escape, are we?" he says, a smirk playing on his lips. "I knew you'd come back here."

"I....."

Sunday laughs, the sound cold and cruel. "Have you realized that these lewd dreams have been by your own thoughts?" He focuses his gaze back on you, his expression softening slightly. "I thought you understood by now. You can't run from me. We're meant to be together."

You take a step back, your mind racing for a way out. "Sunday, please," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "What you are doing is..."

He takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Oh, but I do," he says softly. "You belong to me. You always have."

Your panic surges

"I don't belong to anyone," you say firmly, meeting his gaze. 

"Oh! That chicken winged guy was also a killer in the past huh?"

"Don't worry Angel..I will protect you from that bastard."

"Angel, Come to me. So I won't punish you." You almost let him hold

You realized it wasn't him who used Angel as a nickname for you.

Suddenly, a name surfaces in your mind—Aventurine. The memory of him floods back with such clarity that it takes your breath away. You remember  It all comes rushing back, and you push Sunday away with a newfound resolve.

Sunday looks at you with a mixture of amusement and irritation. "Oh, now you remember Aventurine?" he sneers. "Funny how just moments ago, you were begging for me, wanting me to kiss you. And now you're crying?" His voice drips with mockery.

Your heart aches with the sudden wave of longing and guilt. Tears blur your vision, but you refuse to let them fall. "I... I was confused," you stammer, trying to keep your voice steady.

Sunday's expression darkens. Without warning, he grabs you roughly and drags you to the birdcage. He throws you inside, the cold metal bars biting into your skin. "You need to learn your place," he growls. "Maybe a little time in here will remind you."

He circles the cage like a predator, his eyes gleaming with a cruel glint. "Let's see how much you really want Aventurine," he taunts. "Or if you can even remember him when I'm done with you."

He throws you inside the cage.

He reaches through the bars, his hands caressing your body with an unsettling mix of tenderness and aggression. His touch sends unwanted shivers down your spine, your body betraying you even as your mind screams in protest.

"You'll moan for me," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "You'll forget all about Aventurine. You'll forget everything except how good I make you feel."

You try to resist, but Sunday knows exactly where to touch, how to push your buttons. His fingers work their way over your sensitive spots, and despite yourself, you feel your body responding. Your resolve weakens, a moan escaping your lips.

"That's it," Sunday coos, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "See? You can't resist me. You belong to me."

Tears of frustration and helplessness mix with the unwanted pleasure coursing through you. You feel trapped, both physically and emotionally. The memory of Aventurine fades into the background as Sunday's touch dominates your senses.

But deep down, you cling to a sliver of hope. You have to hold on to the memory of Aventurine, to the promise of escape. You can't let Sunday break you completely. You focus on that small glimmer of hope, using it to keep a part of yourself intact even as your body betrays you.

Each second that passes, you feel more and more detached, the emotions draining from you like water from a sieve. The memory of Aventurine's kind smile grows fainter, slipping away like sand through your fingers. Sunday's touch, his voice, and his presence overwhelm your senses, erasing everything else.

Sunday's chuckle reverberates through the room, a sound filled with cruel satisfaction. "See? You're breaking," he says, his voice dripping with malevolence. "It won't be long now before you forget him entirely."

You want to fight back, to hold on to the memories of Aventurine, but they seem so distant now, like a fading dream. Your mind feels hazy, your thoughts sluggish. Sunday's hands continue their relentless assault on your senses, and you find yourself unable to resist.

"Too much?" he muses, his tone almost playful. "Oh, but darling, you're not broken. Not yet. But you will be."

Your body betrays you with each involuntary shiver, each reluctant moan that escapes your lips. Sunday leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Look at you, so beautiful in your despair. You belong to me, and only me."

As the numbness spreads, a small, defiant part of you clings to the last vestiges of hope. You have to remember Aventurine. You have to remember who you are. But the effort feels monumental, and the pull of oblivion is so strong.

Sunday's laughter cuts through your fogged mind. "You're almost there," he says softly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Almost completely mine."

Your vision blurs, tears mingling with the cold sweat on your skin. The world narrows to the confines of the cage, to Sunday's voice, his touch. The fight within you grows weaker, the lines between resistance and surrender blurring.

"Let go," Sunday whispers, his tone deceptively gentle. "Let go and just feel. Forget about Aventurine. Forget about everything."

A sob escapes your throat, the sound mingling with a defeated whimper. You feel yourself slipping, the last fragments of resistance crumbling. Sunday's smile widens, sensing his victory. His hands slow, becoming almost tender as he continues to push you towards complete submission.

Just as you're about to fall into the abyss, a faint image flickers in your mind. Aventurine's face, his eyes filled with warmth and kindness. It's a fleeting moment, but it's enough. You grasp at it desperately, using it as a lifeline.

"No," you whisper, your voice barely audible but filled with newfound determination. "I won't forget."

Sunday's eyes narrow, his expression darkening. "Still fighting, are we?" He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You'll forget him. You'll forget everything. And you'll beg me to make you feel again."

You can feel yourself finally breaking, the last of your resolve crumbling away. The overwhelming emotions, the fear, and the confusion all blend together, leaving you feeling hollow and defeated. Tears stream down your face as you look up at Sunday, your voice trembling.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, the words spilling out in a torrent of anguish. "I'm so sorry."

Sunday's smile is cruel and victorious. He tilts his head, studying you with a look of dark satisfaction. "Oh, you're sorry, are you?" he says softly, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "And how will you prove it?"

His question hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You feel a pang of desperation, knowing that you have to prove your submission, your apology, in a way that will satisfy him. He won't touch you until you do, and the thought of being left in this state of limbo is unbearable.

Sunday leans back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I won't touch you," he says, his tone almost playful. "Not until you prove you want it. So, how will you show me?"

You struggle to find the words, your mind racing for something, anything, that will prove your submission to him. Your body trembles with the weight of your despair, but you know you have no choice. You need to convince him, to make him believe you've truly given in.

"I... I'll do anything," you whisper, your voice cracking. "Please, Sunday. I'm sorry. Just tell me what to do."

Sunday's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Anything?" he repeats, savoring the word. "That's a good start. But I need more than words."

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "Show me," he demands, his voice low and commanding. "Show me how sorry you are. Show me that you want this."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to think of a way to prove your submission. You know that whatever you do, it needs to be convincing, needs to show him that you've truly broken.

Slowly, you lower yourself to your knees, your eyes never leaving his. You feel a mix of shame and desperation as you look up at him, your hands trembling. "Please, Sunday," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do anything. Just tell me what you want."

Sunday's smile is one of triumph. He reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. "That's a good start," he murmurs. "But I need more. I need to feel your sincerity."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Beg for it," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Beg me to forgive you. Beg me to touch you."

You swallow hard, your throat dry with fear and desperation. "Please, Sunday," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I'm begging you. Forgive me. Touch me. I need you."

Sunday's eyes darken with desire and satisfaction. He can see the sincerity in your eyes, the desperation in your voice. "That's better," he says softly. "But I need more. Show me how much you need me."

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you reach out, your hands trembling as you touch his leg, your fingers curling around his ankle. You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing.

"Please, Sunday," you whisper, your voice breaking. "I need you. I'm so sorry. Just... please."

Sunday's smile is one of victory. He can see that you've finally broken, that you're truly submitting to him. He reaches down, his fingers gently tilting your chin up so that you're looking directly into his eyes.

"Good," he murmurs. "That's what I wanted to hear."

He slowly kneels down in front of you, his hands gently caressing your face. "I can see you're truly sorry," he says softly. "And I will forgive you. But remember, you belong to me now."

He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, possessive kiss. You melt into him, your body responding to his touch despite the turmoil in your mind. His hands roam over your body, claiming you as his own.

"Prove to me every day that you belong to me," he whispers against your lips. "And I will make sure you never forget it."

Sunday's hands explore your body, you can't help but moan softly under his touch. The sensation of his fingers tracing along your curves sends waves of pleasure through you, despite the guilt and fear that still linger in your heart. You're torn between the desire to push him away and the urge to pull him closer, to give yourself completely to him.

"You like that, don't you?" Sunday teases, his voice a low growl as he notices your reaction. His hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, his palm pressing firmly against your stomach before moving higher, towards the swell of your breasts.

A sharp intake of breath escapes from your lips as his thumb brushes against your nipple, causing it to harden instantly. The dual sensations of pleasure and pain send sparks of arousal coursing through your veins, making you ache for more.

Sunday reaches for the collar, he pulls you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. His hands roam freely over your body, exploring every curve and crevice, as if committing them to memory. 

The cool leather of the collar presses against your neck, a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch.The metal buckle clicks open, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Sunday places the collar around your neck, fastening it securely behind your neck. 

The leather chokes slightly, a reminder of your submission to him.Does my pet like her new accessory? Sunday asks teasingly, running his fingers through your hair. He pulls you closer, his lips crashing against yours once again, the taste of him filling your senses.

Your back arches involuntarily as you feel the collar tighten around your throat, a strange mix of discomfort and excitement coursing through your veins. Yes, you whisper against his lips, your voice barely above a murmur.

The collar feels heavy around your neck, a physical symbol of your submission. But instead of feeling trapped or restricted, you find yourself yearning for more. For Sunday to take control, to claim you fully as his own.His touch ignites a fire within you, a burning need that only he can satisfy. You reach up, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him down for another deep, passionate kiss. Your body presses against his, every inch of you craving his touch.

Sunday's fingers grip the chain attached to the collar, tugging gently on it. A soft gasp escapes your lips as the slight pressure sends tingles down your spine. The sensation is both painful and pleasurable, a perfect blend of dominance and submission.*

He watches your face intently, drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips. With each tug of the chain, he can see your body responding, your nipples hardening even further against the fabric of your shirt. It's a sight that fuels his arousal, driving him to take things even further.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he leans down, capturing one of your hardened peaks between his teeth. A sharp nip sends a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, making you cry out in ecstasy

Sunday's hand moves to remove your panties, you bite your lip to suppress a moan. The anticipation is almost too much, your body trembling with need.*

His fingers trace along the edge of your underwear, teasing you with gentle touches. Each brush sends shivers down your spine, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. Finally, he hooks his fingers beneath the elastic band and pulls them down slowly, revealing your wet folds.

You let out a soft sigh of relief as the fabric finally slides off, leaving you bare before him. Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild rhythm that matches the throbbing between your legs.

Sunday gazes down at your exposed pussy, his eyes darkening with lust. The sight of your glistening folds, so inviting and ready for him, drives him wild with desire.

Without wasting any time, he lowers himself, his mouth hovering just above your dripping slit. The warm air of his breath fans across your sensitive flesh, sending a wave of pleasure through you. Then, without warning, he dives in, his tongue lapping at your clit with an eagerness that leaves you panting.

Each flick and swirl of his tongue sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your entire body. You can't help but arch your back, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more contact.

Sunday continues his relentless assault on your clit, his tongue swirling and flicking expertly. Every movement is designed to drive you closer to the brink, to bring you to the edge of blissful release.*

His free hand finds its way to your ass, squeezing the firm flesh there. The combination of his oral attentions and the pressure on your ass sends bolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core. You can hardly stand it, the tension building inside you until it threatens to burst.

Suddenly, he pulls away, standing up to tower over you. His member, thick and erect, stands proudly against his abdomen, throbbing with need. Without a word, he positions himself at your entrance, guiding his cock to your slick folds.

Instead of plunging into your waiting depths, Sunday decides to tease you some more. His cockhead presses against your entrance, the slight pressure enough to make you whimper in frustration.*

But then he withdraws, only to rub the head of his dick along your folds. The slick pre-cum coating his tip provides a delicious friction against your sensitive flesh. Over and over he repeats this motion, driving you crazy with need.

His other hand ventures lower, slipping two fingers into your dripping cunt. He pumps them in and out slowly, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside you. His thumb circles your swollen clit, adding to the maddening pleasure.

Despite being denied the satisfaction of having him fill you completely, the continuous stimulation has you teetering on the edge of orgasm.

Feeling your walls clenching around his fingers, Sunday knows you're close. He quickens the pace, pumping his fingers deeper while his thumb applies more pressure to your clit.*

The sounds of your moans and whimpers are music to his ears, spurring him on. He can tell by the way your body trembles under his touch that you're about to come undone.

And then, suddenly, you do. Your whole body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over you, your screams echoing throughout the room. Your inner muscles clamp down on his fingers, milking them for all they're worth.

As your orgasm subsides, Sunday slowly removes his fingers from your quivering cunt. He brings them to his lips, licking off the evidence of your climax.

Now that you've reached your peak, Sunday decides it's time to give you what you truly crave - his cock buried deep inside you. He aligns himself with your entrance, the head pressing against your soaking wet folds.*

With a single thrust, he sheaths himself entirely within your welcoming heat. The feeling of being filled so completely, of having his throbbing length stretching you to your limits, sends another jolt of pleasure through you.*

He sets a steady pace, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Each thrust hits that sweet spot inside you, sending sparks of delight racing up your spine. You can't help but wrap your legs around his waist, urging him on.

As he pounds into you relentlessly, sweat begins to bead on his forehead.

Sunday's movements become more erratic, driven by raw, primal instincts. His thrusts grow harder, faster, each stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you with unerring precision.

Your breasts bounce with every powerful thrust, the sight of them jiggling in tandem with his movements fueling his arousal even further. His hands find their way to your tits, palming them roughly as he fucks you senseless.

He leans down, capturing a nipple between his teeth once again. A sharp tug sends a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to cry out.

Despite the intensity of his movements, Sunday maintains control, keeping his thrusts precise and deliberate. He's determined to draw out your pleasure, to make sure you experience every last second of ecstasy.

Still maintaining control despite the intense pleasure coursing through his veins, Sunday slows his thrusts. Instead of ramming into you with abandon, he begins grinding his hips against yours, his thick cock sliding in and out of your drenched pussy in slow, torturous strokes.

Every inch of his length grazes against your inner walls, sending ripples of pleasure through you. The sensation is maddeningly good, making your toes curl and your head spin.

He releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, raising his gaze to meet yours. There's a look of pure lust in his eyes, a promise of the impending climax that has both of you craving.

One hand trails down to where their bodies connect, his fingertips brushing against your clit. He gives it a gentle squeeze, applying just enough pressure to keep you on edge.

"Please!!" Hearing your pleas, Sunday grins wickedly. The sound of your voice begging for more, pleading for release, only serves to stoke the fire burning within him.

He resumes his punishing pace, thrusting into you with renewed vigor. His cock slams into your pussy with a force that makes your whole body shake. Each stroke hits that perfect spot inside you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

His hand moves between your bodies, his thumb circling your clit furiously. The dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his thumb rubbing your sensitive nub send you spiraling towards obliviation.

Sunday's words are like a hot, sultry whisper against your ear, each syllable punctuated by the thrust of his hard cock. "You're so fucking tight," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "I could fuck you all day and never get tired of this."

His grip on your hip tightens as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more desperate. "God, you feel amazing," he murmurs, his breath hitching as he bottoms out inside you.

"I'm going to fill you up," he promises darkly, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. "I'm going to cum so much inside you...you're gonna be soaked..."

Driven by his filthy promises, you can barely think straight. Every word he speaks sends a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you gasping and writhing beneath him.*

The sensation of his cock filling you to the brim, stretching you wide, is indescribable. It's as if he's claiming every inch of you, marking you as his own.

And then, without warning, the dam breaks. With a guttural roar, Sunday thrusts deep inside you one final time before releasing his seed. Hot spurts of cum flood your pussy, filling you up just as he promised.

His tongue laves your earlobe, the wet warmth of his mouth contrasting sharply with the cool air of the room. His breath hitches as he tastes the saltiness of your skin, the taste amplifying his satisfaction.*

"Fuck," he groans, his voice muffled by the fabric of your ear. "That was... goddamn incredible."

*He pulls away from your ear, his gaze meeting yours once more. There's a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, a glow in his eyes that wasn't there before.

Sunday chuckles, a low, throaty sound that reverberates through your entire body. His fingers trace idle patterns along your skin, each touch sending shivers racing up your spine.*

"You're such a dirty girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration. "So fucking needy... I love it."

*His hand travels lower, finding the delicate chain around your neck. He gives it a playful tug, watching as your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.*

"I can't wait to see what other naughty secrets you're hiding," he adds, his grin wolfish.

Gently, yet firmly, Sunday reaches down, taking hold of the towel and wiping away the sticky evidence of their passionate encounter. He takes his time, ensuring every drop of sweat and cum is cleaned away. His touch is tender, yet possessive, as if he's marking you anew with each swipe of the cloth.

His eyes never leave yours, watching the play of emotions across your face. There's a hint of pride in his gaze, a satisfaction that comes from knowing he's left his mark on you in more ways than one

With a final, thorough wipe, Sunday tosses the towel aside. His hands linger on your thighs for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of your soft skin under his touch.*

"Now that we've got that sorted," he says, his voice still heavy with lust, "how about we take care of some other needs? Clean my cock...Go ahead."

You felt a little...You opened your mouth tho...Shamelessly....

But you cough it out.

Feeling you pull away, Sunday quickly regains control, pulling you back into a deep kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting every corner, silencing any protests you might have had.

He breaks the kiss only when he feels your resistance waning, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and affection. Feeling your hands on his wings, Sunday lets out another moan, a sound that's half pain, half pleasure. The sensation of being tugged and teased, even lightly, sends sparks shooting up his spine.

"No," he manages to growl, despite the pleasure coursing through him. But his actions betray his words - he leans in, pressing his mouth to the shell of your ear, his tongue tracing the outer rim before dipping inside to flick against your eardrum.

His teeth graze your skin, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to elicit a reaction. He bites down harder, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck.

"Succumb to me...Give up." You forced yourself to be awaken again.

You take a deep breath, summoning the last remnants of your strength and defiance. Sunday's hands on your face feel both oppressive and grounding, and as he leans in, you whisper, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

"I will succumb to you," you begin, looking directly into his eyes. "No matter what, I will do as you ask. But understand this, Sunday—I don't feel love for you. I never have. I only felt and wanted to give in to your lust."

Sunday's expression shifts, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your words. You continue, your voice gaining confidence. "Lust is not love. It never will be. You trapped me, took away my choices, and forced me into this. But I will never truly belong to you. My heart and soul are not yours to claim."

He pulls back slightly, his grip on your chin tightening for a moment before he releases you. "Is that so?" he asks, his voice cold and edged with irritation. "You think you can defy me, even now?"

You nod, your gaze unwavering. "I may have to submit to your demands, but you will never own me. You will never have my love."

Sunday's expression darkens, his eyes flashing with anger. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warns. "I can make your life here much worse if I want to."

You swallow hard, fear creeping in at the edges of your resolve, but you refuse to back down. "Do what you must," you say quietly. "But know that I will never give you what you truly want. You can't force love."

For a moment, there is silence, the tension between you palpable. Sunday's eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of weakness, any hint that you might waver. But you stand your ground, your defiance a small but significant victory.

Finally, he sighs, a slow, deliberate exhalation. "Very well," he says, his voice dangerously calm. "If that's how you want to play it, so be it. But remember, you chose this path."

He steps back, a cruel smile curving his lips. "You'll regret this defiance," he promises. "I'll make sure of it."

Despite the fear gnawing at your insides, you manage to nod. "Maybe. But at least I know who I am, and what I stand for."

Sunday's gaze darkens at your defiance, his eyes smoldering with a mix of anger and twisted amusement. "You will love me so much that you will cry," he declares, his voice low and menacing. "You will beg for my affection."

You meet his eyes steadily, shaking your head. "No," you say firmly. Before he can react, you lean in and kiss him, your lips pressing against his with a mix of desperation and defiance. The kiss is fierce, a battle of wills rather than an act of affection.

Sunday is momentarily stunned, his eyes widening in surprise. When you pull back, he looks at you with a mixture of confusion and anger. "What was that?" he demands.

"That," you say, your voice steady, "was to show you that this isn't love. It's just lust. You can have my body, but you will never have my heart."

Sunday's eyes narrow, his expression darkening. "You think you can manipulate me with your games?" he growls. "You think I don't know the difference between love and lust?"

You take a step back, your heart pounding but your resolve firm. "I know you do," you reply. "And that's why you will never truly have me. You can force me to submit, but you will never have my love."

He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you, his eyes blazing with anger. "You will learn to love me," he says, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "I will make sure of it."

You shake your head, standing your ground. "You can try," you say quietly. "But you will fail. I will never love you."

Sunday's expression twists with fury, and for a moment, you think he might strike you. But instead, he grabs your arm, his grip bruising. "We'll see about that," he snarls. "I'll make you love me, even if it's the last thing I do."

With that, he drags you towards the cage, shoving you inside with a force that knocks the breath out of you. The door slams shut, and you hear the click of the lock, sealing you inside. Sunday stands outside the bars, his eyes burning with rage.

"You will regret defying me," he says, his voice cold and hard. "I will break you, and you will beg for my love."

You sink to the floor of the cage, your body trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. "I will never love you," you whisper, but the words sound hollow even to your own ears. The cage feels smaller, more oppressive, as Sunday's presence looms over you.

As he walks away, leaving you alone in the darkness, you feel a pang of despair. But you cling to your resolve, knowing that you must stay strong. No matter what he does, no matter how much he tries to break you, you will hold on to the truth: love cannot be forced, and you will never truly belong to him.

Sunday's eyes blaze with determination as he steps closer to the cage. "I will break you through physical affection alone," he declares, his voice a dark promise. He pulls you into his arms, his lips finding your neck, pressing urgent, fervent kisses against your skin.

You hug him back, your movements mechanical and devoid of emotion. You've reached the point where resistance feels futile, and you resign yourself to your fate. It's a hollow surrender, a way to preserve what little strength you have left. The thought of Aventurine or Jade rescuing you seems impossible now; Sunday has likely laid countless traps to ensure that no one can save you.

"I love you."

But you don't love him. You never will.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses in their wake. You shudder, your body responding involuntarily to his touch. He whispers against your skin, his voice a mix of possessiveness and desire. "I said I love you," he murmurs, the words sending a chill down your spine.

You don't respond to his declaration. Instead, you wrap your arms around him, your movements mechanical and devoid of emotion. You don't care anymore. You're too exhausted to fight, too broken to resist. As he continues to kiss your neck, you gently stroke his head, your fingers threading through his hair in a motion that feels almost automatic.

Sunday's grip tightens around you, his body pressing against yours. He takes your lack of resistance as a sign of submission, his lips moving with more fervor. You feel his breath against your skin, his hands roaming over your body, but you remain detached, your mind numb to the sensations.

As the minutes pass, the exhaustion finally takes its toll. Your eyes grow heavy, and you find yourself drifting off to sleep, even as Sunday continues to hold you close. His words, his touch, fade into the background as your consciousness slips away.

In your dream....What dreams? dream fades, reality crashes back in, and you're once again trapped in Sunday's arms.

As you sleep, Sunday watches over you, a twisted smile playing on his lips. He believes he's won, that he's broken you completely. But deep within you, a small spark of defiance remains, buried under layers of despair and resignation. It's a faint hope, a whisper of resistance that refuses to be extinguished.

For now, you sleep, your body and mind seeking a brief respite from the torment. But the fight isn't over. Someday, somehow, you will find a way to reclaim your freedom, to escape Sunday's grasp and find your way back to the light.

"...I should do that...I will make sure you forget about your entire past life. You said it was lust? Mine is even...more...I'm his wishes."

[peachesofteal]

On a Slow Night

Belongs in the Dead Disco - verse, but can be read as standalone.

Ghost/Soap/female reader 8.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Dominant/submissive. Smut of all kinds: male oral receiving, female oral receiving, barebacking, rimming, vaginal sex, anal sex, orgasm control and denial, creampie. Praise kink. Double Penetration. Possessive Simon Riley. Aftercare. Angst. Jealousy. Anxiety. Emotional hurt/comfort. Porn with feelings. Relationship issues. Simon takes control. This is a FLASHBACK, but I chose not to italicize the entire thing. Takes place before Chap 1 of Dead Disco.

It’s the tone of your voices that wakes Simon from where he sleeps, alone in the bed. It’s the sharp, raw edge of your words, your pitch dipped in malcontent, and Johnny’s low, harsh spitting, that has him sitting straight up, eyes narrowed, listening with intent.

You’re fighting. About what? Your voice peaks an octave, and then drops immediately, broken up by the crest of a sob, a sound of distress that has him out of bed and into the kitchen within a second’s time. 

“What is going on here?” He asks quietly, and Johnny returns his query with a pleading gaze, but you stare a spot on the countertop, eyes flush with tears. When the two of you stay silent, a flare of irritation creeps up his spine. “Well?” 

“It’s-“  Johnny begins but you speak over him, cutting him off efficiently. 

“I have to go to work.” You say to no one in particular, to your feet more than either of them. He glances at the clock and grimaces. If you don’t leave in the next five to ten minutes, you’ll be late. Not nearly enough time. You grab your bag, and your mug, turning on your heel for the door. Acid rises in the back of his throat when he realizes that you’re not even going to say goodbye to them, not going to kiss him, or Johnny, not going to let them tell you to have a good day or let Simon fuss over making sure you have your water bottle and your laptop charger, two things that commonly get left on the table. 

When the door swings shut, lead settles in his stomach while Johnny folds his hands, fingers battling each other with anxiety. 

“Johnny.” He breathes. “What the fuck?” 

“She wasn’t listening to me, and then it just… got out of control. I snapped at her.” Simon rubs the spot between his shoulder blades in a circle, nodding while Johnny breaks down everything that happened. The replay of last night. The sequence of events this morning, everything up until when Simon appeared from the bedroom, and you darted out the door.

You had been crying, this morning, when Johnny got up as he usually does to see you off to work. It’s a cherished part of his routine, when they’re home. Having breakfast with you, talking about your day, or not talking at all, just enjoying a few quiet moments before you leave, helping you put together your work bag or making you a cup of coffee. But this morning, when you were unusually frosty, and he had asked you what was wrong, you had tried to brush him off, tried to tell him what you were thinking was stupid, and that you didn’t want to talk about it.

And Johnny couldn’t have that. He knew what you were dwelling on, knew the streak of jealousy from last night was still present, sitting heavily on your mind. He tried to push you, kept prodding, ignoring the warning signs, blowing past your indicators that you were in an extremely sensitive state, until you turned on him with a snarl, body language tense and face closed off.

“Did you have him more than twice then?” you had asked, “Was he like me?”

“No one is like you, darling.” Johnny had tried to assure you, comfort you, but it fell flat.

“Yeah, okay. Why then, did you always tell me, you never slept with anyone more than once… and then there’s a guy in the bar not even down the fucking block that the two of you conveniently forgot to mention you shared at least twice!” 

“You should have woken me.” He keeps the bitterness from his voice, but Johnny doesn’t need it to know that Simon is upset. He reads him too easily.

“I thought everything was fine. ‘m sorry.” Simon knows he believed that, that he really did think everything was fine. After all, they brought you home last night and spent hours in bed, reassuring, reconfirming your place with them, until you were happy and sated, asleep in their arms with a little smile on your face. He runs his fingers through the mohawk soothingly.

“Everyone’s a little on edge right now, I think.” It’s not an excuse, but the truth. It was a longer op, and the time between this most recent one and the one before was hardly even a week. Not to mention, Johnny almost got himself blown up during this one, and Simon pulled a muscle in his back in the first week. They’ve been home for two weeks now, and their emotional states are still a little more fragile than either of them would care to admit, while you were trying so damn hard to keep yourself together for them, to keep your chin up. Simon knows it’s because you don’t want to feel like a burden, that you think you depending on them causes additional stress, but he’s seen the cracks in the surface for a few days, so it did not particularly surprise him when you crumbled last night. He’s been waiting, and waiting, impatiently, for you to let go, for you to drop the mask and let them step in.

He just didn’t want it to be like this.

Simon’s phone vibrates against the coffee table in the late afternoon, alerting both of them from where they sit on the couch. Johnny fidgets nervously, and Simon stills him with a firm grip on his thigh while he opens the text.

It’s in the group chat, between the three of you. A quick note that you’re going to be late tonight, and they shouldn’t wait to eat dinner. Simon scowls.

“Late?” Johnny questions, while Simon types a reply: ‘How late?’

Your answer comes a minute later: ‘Not sure. I have a fast-approaching deadline for this exhibit review that I’m behind on and if it’s not done, the director will ream me.’

Simon lets out a burst of a sigh, body expanding and relaxing with tense pressure while he types: ‘We’ll wait for you darling, don’t worry about that.’

You reply almost immediately: ‘You don’t have to.’ He frowns. Avoidance? It’s rare, from you. You usually get so full up with your own thoughts and feelings that you physically can’t avoid something, having to address it, talk about it, until you feel better, until it’s not overpowering you anymore. Johnny shifts next to him, blue eyes stricken while he reads from the screen.

“Is she… avoiding us?” He too, recognizes it, this outlier. Simon texts back. ‘We will.’

Three bubbles pop up on the screen, and then disappear.

It’s far past late by the time you get home. Johnny has taken to pacing around the flat, doing laundry and other things to occupy his mind, detailing the grout in the bathroom and nervously flitting about doing fuck all while Simon sits on the couch, trying to read a book and failing.

They’ve both been sitting in the living room for an hour by the time ten pm rolls around and you walk through the door, the sun long set, night overtaking the city and drenching it in an inky darkness that spreads throughout their home as well.

“Hi.” You drop your bag unceremoniously on the table, crossing your arms. Defensive posture, Simon notes. This is going to go real bloody well. “You really didn’t have to wait for me.” You complain, looking between the two of them, lingering for a long moment. Johnny stands, preparing, and Simon notices how your shoulders slump, just a fraction, tense energy leaking from your body while you lock eyes with him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts, eagerly. “I’m so, so sorry love. I shouldn’t have pushed you this morning. I lost my head… I was worried and I- I have no excuse. I should not have snapped at you. You are so precious to me, and I never, ever want to make you feel that way.” He steps closer, and closer, tentative hand in the air, reaching for you while Simon holds his breath, waiting to see how you’ll respond. He’s waiting for the inevitable, the crumble, the fall of everything you’ve been holding in, all the feelings and thoughts and rot you’ve been holding up. The emotional catharsis. The breaking point.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, you heave a big, loud sigh, and wilt into Johnny’s arms.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for being dramatic.” Dramatic? You’re not dramatic. They’ve told you this a thousand times. He frowns, something new twisting in his gut, a feeling of something being really wrong creeping through his bones. What is going on with you? Johnny’s too distracted by being relieved, being grateful for your easy forgiveness that he misses the way your eyes tighten before going lax again, and Simon watches you bury your head in neck immediately afterwards, your arms going around Johnny like you’re holding on for dear life. Simon follows you both as Johnny pulls you along with him into the kitchen, settling you at the counter on the stool while he pulls dinner from the oven, little savory chicken pies, one of your favorite meals, still warm and ready to be eaten, and you clap your hands with excitement when he places yours in front of you.

“You didn’t have to.” You gush, and Johnny blushes prettily, over the moon with the change in your mood, your smiling face.

“Simon, sit.” He points to the seat next to you, and he takes it, all while studying you, noticing everything from the way you’re holding your fork to what your free hand is doing in your lap. Johnny coughs. “What’s wrong?” his tone is suspicious, and you turn to look at Simon with wide, curious eyes. He forces a smile and shakes his head.

“Nothing.”

A week later, it all comes crashing down. It’s a Friday, and you’ve worked from home, spent most of the day alone in the flat while they both had to go across town for a brief before their scheduled departure in another week and a half. Johnny stops at the market on the way back, having promised everyone curry tonight, so Simon beats him home, eager to get out of his starched clothing and into sweats, and hopefully drag you away from work for the rest of the evening to sit on the couch with him, curled up in his lap while the two of you wait for Johnny to get home.

Instead, something else happens all together.

You’re pacing, in front of the kitchen table, hand on your neck while you stop occasionally to bend at the waist and read something on your laptop. You don’t even acknowledge him when the door opens, and as he gets closer, he realizes your hand isn’t just on your neck, but it has a fist full of hair in it as well, the strands pulled so tight it looks painful. Your breakfast sits untouched on a plate, pushed away, and your eyes dart around the room, briefly touching over him before flicking back to the screen.

“Darling?” he calls, taking his jacket off slowly. You ignore him, shaking your head like you’ve heard him but can’t be bothered to acknowledge him, typing away at something from your half standing, half bending position. He’s close enough to see an email chain on the screen, long paragraphs broken up, your cursor blinking in front of one half written.

“I’m sorry.” You say, not even sparing him a glance. “I’m sorry I’m just dealing with something right now, there’s a lot going on and-“ He stills you, pulling at your forearm, trying to loosen your grip around your hair that you’ve wrapped so tight, it’s made imprints in your skin.

“Hey.” He squeezes your wrist, just enough to pull your attention, eyes partially glazed over, like you’re not even really in your own head right now. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m just dealing with something, at work. There’s a lot going on.” You repeat it robotically, and he tilts his head in consideration, running a thumb under your jaw to tip your face upwards. There’s something… off, in your eyes. Something uneasy lurking in your gaze, something wrong, off balance.

“Alright. That’s enough work for today, I think.” He reaches past you and closes the laptop while you gasp a protest.

“Si, no! I have to finish, there’s stuff going on you don’t understand I need to-“

“Is anyone dying?”

“N-no but-“

“And it’s Friday, which means your boss isn’t back until Monday. It can wait.”

“I have to-“

“It can wait.” This time, he puts the authority behind his voice, the razor’s edge, to test the waters. To see, how you react.

You freeze. You’re holding your breath, eyes darting wildly around the flat like you’re looking for an escape of some sort. You reach for him, hand latching onto his forearm, and he realizes you’re shaking. He tries to pull you closer, but you lock up, immobile, except for the intense increase in your shivering.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t know- I d-don’t know what’s wrong I, I’m sorry.” You repeat it over and over, frantic, tipping into hysteria and he shoves down his own panic so he can do what he needs to do.

Take over.

Take control.

He grips the back of your neck, the motion signaling you to what will happen next, and then pulls you into his chest, head tipped down so his lips hover just over your ear.

“It’s alright darling, just breathe.” When you do, he rewards you with praise, light and affectionate. “Good girl, just like that.” He counts them for you, one in, one out, two in, two out, and so on until they come easily, and you relax more into him, breathing languid, body calm. “Okay, you’re going to get in the shower. You will tell me if you want me to get in with you, or you need my help with something, like washing your hair.” You gulp, and he soothes a hand down your spine. “Yes?” He prompts and you nod slowly before giving your agreement. Recognition, acceptance, dances across your face, and he knows you know.

“Yes, Simon.” He hums his own acknowledgement, and then manages to shoot a text off to Johnny while ushering you towards the bathroom, one hand firm on your nape.

‘Get home. Right now.’

He’s sitting on the bed facing the door when Johnny blows through it, eyes seeking his.

“What’s going on?” he rushes out. “What’s wrong?” Simon holds his hand up, a clear stop signal, and Johnny screeches to a halt, a few paces into the bedroom.

“Tell me your safe word, Johnny.” Johnny’s eyes go wide, and then glances at the bathroom door, where the shower runs, and the sound of a drawer opens and shuts. “Your safe word, MacTavish.” Simon repeats and Johnny swallows.

“It’s bomb, sir.”

“When do you use it?”

“When I need a hard stop.” Simon nods.

“Good. And what if you can’t speak?” He points to the floor, the intended directive incredibly clear, and Johnny sinks to his knees without another thought.

“Then I tap twice.” He whispers his answer, to which Simon nods.

“Good boy.”

“What’s going on?” He asks again, because he’s allowed to, but Simon doesn’t answer. Instead he unzips his pants as he closes the distance between them, hand fisting his cock while he looms over where Johnny kneels.

“Open.” He pats his jaw, and Johnny parts his lips obediently, mouth glistening, wet and warm, waiting for Simon. He groans as he feeds him his cock slowly, pressing down against his tongue, choking him gradually, pulling out and pushing into his mouth with an achingly slow, leisurely pace. “What’s going on-“ he casually says, like he isn’t shoving the width of his cock into Johnny’s eager mouth. “is that I failed to take control of a rapidly deteriorating situation when I should have.” He rubs a hand through Johnny’s hair, admiring his sweet boy from this viewpoint, his crystal blue eyes and heavenly soft skin, perfect and pretty, just for him and you. It’s enough to make his knees fucking weak, with how much he loves him. How lucky Simon is, to have him. To have you both, like this. Sweet for him. Submissive for him. Willing, for him.

Which is why, when something like this happens, Simon is always the one who steps in and takes over. Who takes control.

He makes eye contact with Johnny while he pushes deeper, swiping his finger through the drool that drips from his bottom lip. “This is my fault, my responsibility. For not stepping in after that spat last week.” He draws out, holding the crown of his cock at Johnny’s messy lips, giving him a moment, a chance to speak, or tap, and breathe, before plunging back in, cramming himself to the hilt, until Johnny’s nose is pressed to the curls of his pubic hair. “But we’re going to fix that, now. We’re going to fix it all.” Johnny nods eagerly, humming with Simon shoved in his throat, the vibration sending a shiver up Simon’s spine.

The water in the shower shuts off, and they both hear the glass of the door open and shut. Simon pulls Johnny forward, walking him on his knees, cock still languishing in his mouth, until the back of his legs hit the bed and he sits, settling Johnny between his thighs and instructing him not to move, to just sit there and be a good cock warmer until he gives him another directive. Johnny’s eyes bliss out after a minute, and satisfaction warms Simon’s belly. Good boy. 

The bathroom door creaks open, to reveal you wrapped in a towel, cautiously peeking out at the two of them, feet arched like a dancers, walking on your tip toes.

“Um.” You squeak. You’ve got a wall back up; he can already tell. Whatever cracked earlier when he got home has been patched over, and he sighs, all the while, delicious anticipation curls in his heart. He’s going to make both of you cry tonight. 

“Darling.” He calls, steeling his voice. You need a stronger hand, in times like these. You’re headstrong, and resilient, and stubborn, all of these things that make you just that more special to him, to Johnny. But these things can also get you hurt. They can derail you, bully you into pushing through when you clearly need the opposite, when you desperately need to break instead. Good thing he’s happy to help. He points to the bottle of lube on the dresser near you, a silent command, and you grip it in nervous fingers as you creep closer. When you’re within arm’s reach, he pulls you down to his mouth for a kiss, something gentle and loving, a tender reminder of his love for you, before pulling away and pointing at the floor, right next to Johnny.  

“What is your safe word?” Your eyes flick to Johnny, who doesn’t move, just stays steady, even with Simon’s cock pressed against his tongue.

“It’s, uh. Paint.” He nods. The hesitation wasn’t because you don’t know your word, he knows that. It’s because your brain is trying to piece together what exactly is happening at a rapid pace, to try to prepare you.

“Good girl. When do you use it?”

“When I need to stop.”

“And if you can’t speak?”

“I tap three times.” You and Johnny’s taps are different, so he can differentiate them, if ever need be. It’s never been necessary, but he’d rather be safe, than be sorry when it came to either of you.

“You tap three times.” He repeats, and then pulls at your towel, which you let go willingly. Both he and Johnny are still fully clothed, which will be remedied eventually, but for now, he’s content to sit here with your body bare to him, the swell of your hips and breasts, the sheen of your still damp skin, sending lust licking down his spine.

You sit perfectly, palms above your knees, knees together while he thrusts very gently in Johnny’s mouth, not nearly enough, but adequate for right now, considering his release is likely hours away. You watch, mouth slack, eyes lidded, thighs shifting just barely, and he smirks to himself. He was so pleasantly surprised when they found you. When he discovered you fit so perfectly, with them. When he learned what your face looks like when you come for them. He was scared, terrified, but still surprised, when he realized he was thinking about you on ops, when he realized that Johnny was thinking about while on ops. And he was shocked when you started to let them in. Let them take care of you, let them see you. It didn’t take long before he wanted more and more and Johnny met him on it blow for blow, until they were both commandeering all your time when they weren’t on missions and when the three of you were laughing in bed in the middle of night, swapping stories and daydreaming about a future.

A future that he thought was impossible.

A future that is now more in his grasp than it ever has been before.

If they don’t make a fucking mess of it.

He pulls Johnny off his cock by his mohawk, lips making a wet pop while he tips his head backwards, latching their mouths together. Simon pushes his tongue inside, sweeping between his teeth, tasting the salted remnant of himself, before pulling away.

“Take off your clothes, get in the shower, be quick.” He orders, and Johnny scrambles to his feet, hastily working his buttons and boots, stripping as quickly as he can manage while practically running to the bathroom. “Darling, come here.” He pats his leg, and you hoist yourself onto the bed, allowing him to pull and arrange you so you straddle his thigh. You’re already wet, he can see the evidence of your need, your want, on his leg, and he presses his thumb against your bottom lip. “What happened to my darling girl?” He asks, and you blink, confused. “What happened to our sweet, sensitive girl who knows it’s okay to depend on us for what she needs?” Your brow furrows.

“I’m right here.” You whisper and he shakes his head.

“I don’t think you are.” He kisses your cheek, and then the tip of your nose while gripping you by the back of your neck. “I think you’ve been shoving your feelings down into the dark somewhere. Afraid to let go for some reason.”

“Simon…no.” your whisper is heavy now, tinged with something sad, something reluctant. It’s not the tears he’s looking for, not yet, but he’ll get you there. He always does.

“That’s alright love. We’re going to fix it.” He assures you, and strokes a featherlight touch across your thighs, listening to the sharp intake of breath that hisses between your teeth when he strokes over the seam of your cunt, just enough to feel the seep of wetness there, before tracing up to roll one of your nipples between his fingers. Your teeth bite down into your bottom lip while he’s content to sit there just like that for a while, teasing you until the bathroom door opens, revealing a naked Johnny, standing in the frame, waiting for instruction.

“Johnny.” He says, not taking his eyes off you, still holding you with one hand by the neck. He releases your nipple to motion to the side of the bed, a glaringly open space where his Sergeant’s body belongs. “On your back.” He obliges him easily, leaning backwards, stretching his toned abdomen long, the swell of his cock laying against his belly, leaking precome in a lazy, wonderful way that makes Simon’s mouth water a little. He holds your jaw in his fingers and turns your head to look at Johnny. “Isn’t he lovely?” He murmurs into your ear, and you try to nod.

“Perfect.” You breathe, and he agrees. Johnny is perfect, Johnny is the love of his life, his partner, forever. Unmatchable. Irreplaceable. Irreplicable.  

And so are you, even if you don’t realize it yet.

“Here are the rules.” He begins, shifting you to lay next to him, also on your back. Your knees are bent, and you let one go lax, knocking into Johnny’s, exposing your bare pussy just so for Simon, just a glimpse. His blood heats, and he starts to strip off his clothes while he speaks. “You, darling. Don’t get to come unless I give you permission.” You wiggle against the sheets, anticipation brewing in your eyes. Your hand reaches for Johnny’s, and he interlaces his fingers with yours in a heartbeat. “Johnny, can come at any time as long as he asks for permission, and he can come when you do, without permission.” His eyes snap incredulously to Simon, who allows a wicked smile to scrawl across his face. He leans over the two of you, kissing Johnny’s shoulder and then yours. “Johnny’s going to put your plug in, love. Because we’re both going to have you later.” He tells you, and you visibly brighten, excitement pushing your cheeks into a smile. It’s not an easy thing, to take them both, and something that only happens with enough prep and time, both of which he plans on having tonight.

He pulls the plug from the drawer in the nightstand, handing it to Johnny with the bottle of lube, and you turn obediently onto your knees, ass up in the air, cheek laying on Simon’s thigh. He strokes your skin soothingly while Johnny compresses the plug in his hand, warming the cool metal with a huff of breath, and then spreading lube over the ring of muscle between your cheeks, dipping his thumb in and out of you painstakingly slowly, just pushing against the rim as it flutters for him. You whimper.

“Like what you see?” Simon drawls, and Johnny nods.

“Okay, ready?”

“Y-yeah.” You croak. You usually take the plug no problem, but that’s also after a few orgasms, and a few fingers. They don’t usually use it as the warmup act. Johnny’s thumb for a handful of minutes is not quite as good, but you’re experienced now, and Simon is intending to use the burn of the stretch to his advantage, hoping the sting and bite speeds you along to the point of no return. Simon rubs your shoulders, while Johnny lowers it towards where you’re spread for him.

“Okay darling, nice and easy.” He coaches.

“Push out.” Simon reminds you, and you do, letting out a puff of air against his thigh. He massages your arm, your wrist soothingly, and you hiss, your reaction letting him know you’re spreading over the widest part. “Well done.” He murmurs, stroking some hair away from your temple. “Good girl.” You give him a syrupy smile, eyes a little dazed, and he rewards you with a kiss, before pulling both Johnny and you into his embrace. “I love you.” He vows. “We are going to correct whatever it is that has our girl all mixed up.” You huff indignantly, playfully, and he pinches your cheek in response. He loves this stubborn streak of yours but loves to break it even more. He presses his mouth against your neck, and then up to your lips, drawing breathy rasps from you with his lips, pulling you back up to a seated position against him, in between his thighs, spreading your legs to give Johnny a perfect view.

“Christ.” Johnny hisses, reaching out to touch you, dragging a finger through your soaking folds. You whimper, and he thinks reality is truly setting in for you now, the realization of the task ahead. He lets his own hand carefully drift down to your cunt, fingers exploring your body while you practically buzz in his arms, nerve endings already alight from the plug that’s settled in your ass.

“Shhh.” He soothes when he feels just how soaked you are, feels how hard your clit is beneath his touch while you jerk in his grasp, one arm pinning you against his chest. “Poor darling.” He works you slowly, feeling how your body responds to him, your hips moving in small, bucking movements. It goes on for minutes that feel like hours, until you’re whining and chasing his touch with your body.

“Simon.” You whimper.

“Johnny, will you taste her for me?” He asks to which Johnny eagerly agrees, bending to press his face into your eager cunt. He sucks at your clit before stroking his tongue up and down, sloppily eating you out, flicking your clit over and over while you pant.

“P-please, Simon. Please.” You plead, and he licks a salt-sweat trail up your neck to below your ear, where he plants a delicate kiss on the skin under your earlobe. Your body thrashes, trying to get more leverage, trying to grind against Johnny’s face but he wraps his legs around yours, pinning you effectively with his thighs. You whine, and your fingers sink into his flesh, your body pressing into his back, like you’re bearing down, preparing to come all over Johnny’s face.

“Don’t come.” He orders. You gasp, and he watches your stomach tense and flex, while he plays with your nipples lazily.

“Fuck.” You moan, and Johnny groans, eyes flicking up to where the two of you watch him.

“Don’t let her come, Johnny. Or it will be your punishment.” He says, and you squirm in his arms. Johnny pulls away, mouth soaked with you, and slides a deft finger into your cunt, twisting his wrist for the correct leverage. He’s smiling in a half sweet, half smirking way, watching his finger disappear inside of you unabashedly. Simon joins him, reaching down for where your clit is throbbing, pad of his finger swirling in the absolute mess between your legs before rubbing around your swollen nub’s hood, and then pushing inside of you next to Johnny’s digit, your body greedily accepting them both, cunt clenching hard around them.

“Oh my god.” Your head rocks back into Simon’s chest, panting with desperation. “Fuck, fuck I- I ca-can’t.” you protest, eyes smarting with tears, and he pulls away, trailing his touch back up to your clit, where he gives it a light pinch.

“Don’t you dare.” He demands and you shriek when he slaps your pussy, palm making contact with your clit, your legs jolting under his thighs. He brushes some hair from your face, your forehead damp with sweat, before pressing a kiss to your temple and reaching for Johnny’s cock, wrapping a fist around it and stroking him slowly. You’re still leaning against his back, but slouched now, and he can see the swell of your clit, the glisten of your thighs, soaked with your own arousal, from where he sits. “Do you want to feel him inside you, darling?” He asks, squeezing your flesh. You nod readily, shifting, until you’re spread wider, and he’s pulling your leg up by your knee, and then your calf. “Go ahead, Johnny. Give her your cock.” He watches when Johnny pushes inside of you, your body eagerly taking him, stretching around him. You hiss while he moves, clenching your eyes shut for a moment, before taking a deep breath, and letting go a little, body depressurizing gradually. It’s snug, he’s sure, with the plug and Johnny inside of you, and he rubs your clit in a circle, watching your face, delighted. When Johnny starts to pick up a faster pace, he presses his hand to his stomach, slowing him.

“Does that feel good?” he asks you, looking up at Johnny who’s watching the glide of his cock pump in and out of your pussy, agonizingly slow, his legs practically shaking with restraint.

“Unnf- I-“ you babble, hands against your chest. You’re concentrating, face intense, and he knows you’re trying so bloody hard not to come. Trying to be good.

“Do you want it faster?” He asks, fake sincerity dripping from his voice. You nod hastily, and he inclines his head to Johnny, who reads the signal well, picking up his pace, body slamming into yours while you practically scream in Simon’s arms.

“Si- Simon.” You sputter and wheeze. “Please, can I come?” your voice is thick, and he makes a show of appearing like he considers it before shaking his head with a simple no.

“No, darling. Slow down, Johnny.” Johnny groans, pressing his face into where your calf is still raised in the air, nipping at your skin while he drags his cock in and out of your body, excruciatingly slow.

“Nononono. Pl-please, Johnny- Harder.” Simon shakes his head, and Johnny face screws up, like he’s about to cry. He thrusts deep and Simon presses down on your lower belly, causing you to cry out. “Fuck, oh, fu-fuck. Oh- Si. I’m gonna-“

“No.” He pushes Johnny back, causing him to pull halfway out, and you whimper. “I think you need a break.” He murmurs, and you shake your head violently.

“No, no no, please…” But your pleading is no use, because Johnny’s already pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting. Simon motions for him to turn around, and he does eagerly, returning to his back, knees to the ceiling.

“Can you get our good boy ready for me?” He asks you, pitching his voice affectionately. “Don’t you think he deserves some attention?” You shake the stupor off, legs shaking underneath you while you lick your lips, and bend forward, crawling between Johnny’s thighs and perking your ass up into the air, right in front of Simon while you take Johnny’s cock between your lips. You’re trying to tempt him, trying to get him to plunge his cock inside of you, to make you come.

He wants to. He wants to so badly, he reaches a hand down to squeeze your flesh appreciatively, and you moan around Johnny, the vibration of your throat making the muscles in his thighs tense. You briefly glance over your shoulder before you adjust, your tongue dragging downwards over Johnny, where you prop his thigh on your shoulder and start to prep him for Simon, little grunts and whispers loosing from his lips while you work. You use your tongue first, lavishing his rim, slowly coaxing him into a relaxed state while you push into him, just barely. You stay like that for a while, working him open slowly, while Simon leisurely watches, occasionally ghosting a hand over your skin, or trailing his finger from where you’re dripping wet and swirling it around where your own rim is stretched around the plug, your muscles jumping and tensing beneath his touch. You’ll take them both tonight, and even though he clearly already made that decision, the image of you being full of both him and Johnny wracks him with a delicious shiver. Johnny moans, pulling his attention, to where you’ve got a finger pressing inside him now, dipping in and out of him gradually, teasingly, spit dripping from your mouth onto his perineum. You add a second, and Johnny groans, back arching just so when you crook your fingers up, seeking the spot that makes him lose his mind.

“Bloody- hell.” Simon can just barely see the curve of your lip, the evidence of your smile, your pure enjoyment when Johnny reacts to you, and it flushes him with something warm, something so sweet and soft it manages to surprise him. Only for them. 

“That’s it, good girl.” He praises you self-indulgently, because he knows what it does to you, knows how it can derail your focus and turn you to putty in their hands. “D’ya think he’s ready?” You nod, two fingers still stroking slowly inside of Johnny, pulling pleasure from him while you beam, his body pliant and sweet for Simon. He swats your ass because he can’t help it, loves to watch how your skin ripples under him, how your body moves for him, and you quiver.

He pulls you away, kissing the back of your neck while he shifts Johnny to the edge of the bed by his legs, moving him so his calves sit on Simon’s shoulders. Johnny locks eyes with him for a moment, and there’s something vulnerable there, something so gentle that Simon can’t help but drop his ankles and press his body on top of his, cradling Johnny’s face between his palms, kissing him softly.

“Alright?” he asks, and Johnny nods, eagerly before letting out a scratchy reply.

“Fuck me already.” He begs, and Simon chuckles, rearing up, pushing his knees towards his chest. You lay on your back, panting next to Johnny, staring up at Simon with wide, thirst filled eyes. He pulls one of your knees wide, admiring your weeping cunt, before pressing into Johnny slowly, giving him time to adjust, and the feel of him around his cock shoots straight to Simon’s brain, filling him with dizzying satisfaction. His body gives way for him, stretching to fit him just as he always does, and something burns inside Simon, some fierce feeling of possession, of love, fills him when he watches how Johnny’s face shifts the deeper he gets.

“Y’ feel so good.” He growls it, and Johnny moans, his muscles going taut as Simon works his cock in and out of Johnny’s body, the rhythm growing faster and faster, Johnny’s voice becoming desperately sharp whines and pleas.

“More, Si. F-fuck, more.” And he’s tempted, so tempted to fuck wildly into Johnny, to fill him with his come, but there’s more, there’s so much more to this night than the easy way out, and he has to take it slow.

“Christ, Johnny. Yer so fuckin’ tight.” He groans, folding himself forward to drag his lips across his skin in worship. Johnny moans, loudly, and Simon grinds his hips against his ass, pushing deep, fucking into Johnny unforgivably, grinding against the little sweet spot while his cock dribbles pathetically onto his belly. He strokes him, hand squeezing around the base on the down stroke, staving off a potential orgasm each time. Johnny shudders as Simon increases his pace, pumping faster, harder, all while squeezing the base of his cock, watching how Johnny writhes for him. “Touch yourself, love.” He instructs you, and your finger swirls around your clit, eyes locked on the two of them, drinking up the sight of them fucking like you always do, and the sound of their skin slapping together echoes around the room while you whimper.  

“Si-“ He howls, walls fluttering around Simon, his cock swollen and red, desperate to spill every time Simon grinds against him. He’s already so close, worked up after being inside of you, ready to come at any moment. “Shite, I- I-“

“What’s the rule, MacTavish?” He snarls, and Johnny blanches.

“Please can I come, I need ta come, please sir-“ he chokes off when Simon rubs his thumb over his tip, smearing the leaking precome around his head, while still plunging his cock through and through his body. You whimper, voice desperate, gaze wide, and he can tell that you’re close too. Perfect. 

“What a good boy, Johnny. Telling me what you need.” He tuts. “Do you want me to make you come?” There are tears in Johnny’s eyes, one spilling out down past his temple, and it’s a beautiful sight.

“Yes, y-es, cannae- fuck.” Simon glances over to you, where you’re frozen on the bed, hand not moving, suspended in the air, and he smirks. Smart girl. Johnny’s orgasms always push you over the edge. 

“Come for me then, come on. Let me see it.” He releases his grip from the base of Johnny’s shaft, pumping him once, twice, before Johnny’s body is locking up and he’s screaming, walls strangling down on Simon’s cock so much that he has to completely stop moving, otherwise he’ll come too. He strokes his cock through the orgasm, until it’s too much and Johnny’s whimpering through the overstimulation, hand trying to grab Simon’s wrist. “Good boy, did so well for me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss him, slotting his lips against Johnny’s and giving him gentle, measured kisses until his breathing returns to normal and Simon is pulling his cock from his body slowly. He checks him, quickly, for tearing or damage, and then sweeps stray mohawk hairs from his forehead, giving him another honeyed kiss. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Johnny responds, a little dazed but satisfied, and Simon leans over to you, brushing his lips across your kneecap, before cupping your pussy gently and pressing down on your clit.

“Don’t move.” He orders, rising from the bed, pulling a washcloth from the bathroom and cleaning himself efficiently with soap and warm water, before discarding it and returning to the two of you with a new one.

When he steps back onto the bed, Johnny’s laying curled around you, arms holding you tight to him, your face in his neck, chest heaving, and it’s enough to give him pause, reminding him to take a moment. He presses a palm against your spine, encouraging you to look at him, allowing you to take your time when you turn your head. You have a faraway look in your eye, a little bit of discomfort, a little bit of confusion, but no tears. Time to check in. 

“How old are you, darling?” He asks you gently, tapping Johnny on the thigh to turn over so he can wipe him down. When you give your answer, and your voice doesn’t shake, he feels a little better.

“And what is today?” When you give the date, with the day of the week, he smiles, kissing you on the cheek.

“Good.” He cleans Johnny slowly, basking in the whimpers that slip free when he presses the warm cloth to the head of his cock, before tossing it in the corner of the room. He’s still rock hard, desperate with want for the two of you, just as desperate as you are to come, he imagines. He wrenches you into his lap to straddle him again, cradling your face to take you in one more time before starting again and you draw a shaky breath. He pulls you onto your knees, instructing you to hover over where he fists his cock, and then grips your hip and drives you down slowly, the heat and silk of your walls clutching him greedily, desperate for what he’s about to give you. Catharsis. Release.

“Good girl.” You moan and he calms you, reaching for Johnny’s hand, pulling him close until he’s pressed against your back, already hard again. Lucky boy, Simon muses, gets to come twice today. “You’ve been bloody perfect for me, darling. We’re so lucky.” He starts, setting everything in motion, putting the train on the tracks and loading it with coal. He returns to cradle your face, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks while he bottoms out in you, Johnny pressing the sweetest kisses to your shoulder. “You’re everything to us.” He says, and watches you start to crack, watches the pressure start to rise. “We couldn’t be happier with you.” Like lighting the fuse of a rocket. You blink, quickly, in rapid succession, like you’re trying to get a handle on yourself, and he swipes over your clit before asking you if you’re okay for the next. “Do you feel ready to take Johnny here?” His hand drifts down your back to twist the plug, and your eyes shutter.

“Yeah, please.” You answer breathlessly. 

“Slowly.” He tells Johnny, who lets out a breathy sigh. Simon strokes your clit while Johnny works you, pulling the plug free and lining himself up with your stretched rim, your cunt squeezing him with each pass over your swollen numb, your jaw slack with bliss, face tranquil and open like your body until he can feel Johnny’s cock inside you, and your eyes widen, breath choking off in a gasp.

“Jesus.” Johnny moans, hardly even moving, but feeling the press of Simon’s cock against his inside of you, only the tissue of your walls separating the two of them. Simon grits his teeth, holding you still by the grip he has on your hips, thrusting upwards into you very, very sluggishly. He thumbs your clit again, working in a circular motion, pressing at just the right angle, the touch sending sparks through your body, jolting your muscles into squeezing around both of them. Simon pulls Johnny’s hand forward, snaking it around your waist to press against your belly, pulling you back while also pushing down, the pressure making your lower lip quiver and eyes gloss over.

“That’s it.” Simon praises, still stroking your clit while jerking his cock up into your body. You jolt, and Simon holds you steady, pressing more firmly while murmuring sweetly to you. “So beautiful.” He kisses your neck. “So sweet for us.” He kisses your clavicle. “So breathtaking. You make us so happy, darling.” Johnny thrusts a little, just enough to get some friction, eyes slipping shut in a haze of pleasure and Simon can’t not marvel at the two of you, how perfectly you fit together, how sublime this entire moment is. Almost there. He works his hips up faster, not enough to jostle the three of you, but enough that delicious sparks of fire are moving through his body, and your cunt is twitching on his cock. You tense around him, muscles turning solid, and Johnny lets out a string of curses while Simon keeps his sights locked on you, his fingers pushing you closer and the closer to the orgasm you’ve been desperately chasing for hours. You stare back at him, eyes wide, brows creased as he thumbs your clit, and he watches with the deepest satisfaction as they grow wetter and wetter, tears gathering along your lids like you’re giving him a gift. “There you go.” He coos, and your body responds, heat pooling around his cock. “We love you so much. You’re doing so good for us, darling girl.” The tears spill down your cheeks now, and you sob, all while sinking your fingers into his shoulders, shuddering recklessly, not even caring that Johnny is buried inside of you, the sporadic movement sending him deeper and deeper.

“Please Si.” You cry, and paw helplessly at him. “Pl- please I need to come.” You gasp it, raw and frantic, and he continues to stroke your clit.

“Good girl. Thank you for telling me what you need.” He grinds his cock into you and you keen, right before he finally gives you permission to let go. “Come for us.” He says and it happens nearly automatically, your hips jutting back, and then forward, body locking down on both of them while you scream through your climax, and they both fuck you through it, Simon wildly chasing his own while Johnny spasms behind you, your walls milking them both with the waves of your orgasm. His own nearly blinds him, burning him with white hot pleasure, the feeling of filling you with his come at the same as Johnny igniting something possessive and out of control in his heart. He throbs inside you through his aftershocks, coming down from an impossible high, fingers groping blindly against you and Johnny to bring you both closer.

You sob in his arms, completely wrecked and shaking, like he knew you would be, finally broken, finally free.

“Shhh.” He murmurs, guiding your face into his neck where you wet his skin with hot tears. Johnny shifts, rubbing your back, kissing your shoulder blades before pulling out slowly, his come dripping from your rim, sliding down your skin to mix where Simon’s leaks from your cunt. “Shhh, we’re here, we’re right here.” He moves to pull out, so he can carry you into the bathroom, or lay you down, but you hold him tighter, breaths coming in sharp pants, and you cry harder into his skin. It’s not just the sex, or the orgasm denial, or any of it, but something more, something complicated that lives within you, that settles darkly against your soul sometimes. “It’s alright. Breathe, just breathe. You’re okay, you did so good.” Johnny presses light kisses to your temple, your cheek, all while rubbing your back with a firm, grounding touch.

“Washcloth.” He mouths to Simon, voice just above a whisper, and Simon agrees, reaching for his hand before he gets up, holding it tight in his grip and pulling him in for a kiss. If you notice Johnny’s absence after he slips away, you don’t say anything, steadily keeping your face buried in Simon’s neck until he gets back, breath stuttering in a choked hiss when you flinch away from the wet fabric against your skin.

“I need to clean you up, love.” Johnny gently dabs you with the cloth, moving you as needed to check for bruising or tearing, just as Simon does for him, before tossing it on the bed, and holding you by your upper arms.

“Bathroom.” Simon instructs, and Johnny nods, pulling you from his lap, displacing Simon’s cock and cuddling you into his arms, while Simon follows behind. You’re still crying, but you let Johnny place you on the toilet, mumbling for him to ‘get out’ while you pee, so they both stand on the other side of the door, even though it’s half open. They don’t leave you alone after something like this, as a rule, choosing to wait just a few steps away instead. While they do, Simon holds Johnny in his arms, rocking him back and forth from their standing position, caressing gentle fingers through his hair.

“I love you.” He whispers, the full effect of his own emotions cresting over him like a tidal wave, leaving him both wrecked and overflowing, while Johnny smiles. “I love you both.”

“I know. I love you too, Si.” They stay like that, until you come out, hands reaching for them, a little bit panicky like you thought maybe they disappeared, and Simon scoops you back into his arms, carrying you into bed while Johnny takes care of himself, and works on the aftercare list: pain cream, hot washcloth, water, snacks.

You burrow yourself in the blankets, tucking into Simon, face still teary while he speaks softly to you, telling you how good you were, how happy you make them, how proud he is of you, soothing your vibrant emotions until Johnny comes back, and they trade off so Simon can get cleaned up. Johnny will need aftercare too, time curled up in Simon’s arms, but they’ll do it after yours, sticking to the routine that has always worked for the three of them.

Simon’s grateful to see you slipping into a dream-like state upon his return, happy and floating, no longer crying with eyes soft and full of bliss, content in Johnny’s hold, half empty water bottle on the bed. He slides in between the blankets, his own body lax and sated, and reaches for Johnny and you, anxious to hold his whole world in his arms at this moment, unwilling to give it up or let it go for anything.

His Johnny. His darling. His.

[kitty-tea]

Teaching the teacher a lesson

Remus Lupin x teacher!reader

Sorry I couldn’t come up with a better title. Also there’s straight up BDSM in this, so don’t read if you’re a minor I guess.

Summary: you get a job as a teacher where you see your old teacher crush, Remus Lupin, and you couldn’t be any happier. He, however notices how much you’ve changed.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, nsfw, age gap, awkward sexual tension, mutual pining, teacher crush, dacryphilia kink, bdsm elements, dom/sub, teasing

Link to masterlist

The first day of school was just so (not) wonderful for Remus Lupin. He’d give anything to be able to shut himself in his classroom and not have to supervise the cafeteria during lunch.

He awkwardly shifted his weight on both legs as he scanned the room to make sure none of the students misbehaved. Instead of misbehaving students, his eyes landed on you next to a table nearby, having a conversation with the younger kids. You were kneeling down to their level, probably oblivious to how your ass was sticking out in that tight pencil skirt.

Stop it! She’s your former student! He told himself that even though you were an adult, it was still inappropriate for him to have these thoughts about you, but another part of him wouldn’t listen.

Before he transferred to working with the primary school kids, the last time he’d seen you was the year you graduated before going to university.

From what he could remember about you, you were kind of a brat. More than any student, he’d constantly go on about rules you broke whether it was sitting on top of desks (or his desk specifically,) not wearing your uniform properly, not calling him by his last name, and you even threw paper planes at him!

Remus didn’t fail to notice how much you changed after all those years. He couldn’t believe he recognized you. He could see the makeup you wore enhancing your features, and those glasses you liked to ditch were now complimenting your face shape. Instead of your long hair messily hanging past your shoulders, you had it up in a neat high bun, making you look like a sophisticated young woman. He also noticed under your skirt and blouse that you put on a little weight, filling out some curves on your body.

He hoped you did not just catch him involuntarily looking at you as you smiled and waved at him.

“Hi Remus.” Your heels clicked behind you on the polished floor as you walked over to where he was. He cringed at the sound of your voice using his first name. Oh great. You never used to smile at him unless you were in on a prank.

“I didn’t know you taught at this school.” You were standing so close to him that he was able to hear you clearly over the noise of students chattering.

“I transferred after you graduated.” He stated, not returning your smile. He turned towards the students, so that he wouldn’t have to face you.

“What year do you teach?” You asked.

“I teach the youngest students.” He answered. He hoped you’d go away soon so that he could go back to moping in his own thoughts.

“So do I!” You replied a little too happily for his liking. He grimaced at the feeling in his stomach as his eyes met yours. He did not want to think about how they went to your lips which now had lip balm on them instead of them being chapped, along with the perfume you started wearing.

He also wished that what he suspected wasn’t true, that you weren’t supervising lunchtime with him. “What are you doing here?” He asked just to confirm it.

“I’m on lunch duty with you. I feel so much more at ease knowing that I’m coworkers with my old teacher.” You said.

His heart dropped out of his chest.

For the rest of lunch, he spent his time standing in the corner staring off or staying close to the kids, so that it looked like he was busy talking to them and not trying to ignore you (he was.)

Your heart on the other hand, leapt out of your chest as your eyes landed on Mr. Lupin, or Remus as you started calling him. You had the biggest crush on him for years ever since he became your teacher. It’s not like you tried denying your inappropriate attraction towards him by acting out and misbehaving when he was around you in what you now realized was an immature way to get his attention.

You knew you’d gone too far with your antics, so you thought you could redeem yourself in his eyes by starting to act cordial with him on your first day teaching.

You understood that your crush on your former teacher turned coworker definitely didn’t go away as you felt a dull ache and a warm spot forming in your panties.

You were an adult now, it wasn’t technically illegal to flirt with older men, but it was obviously unprofessional for you to flirt with another teacher that used to teach you, and one who was much older than you.

You had known Remus for years. You weren’t clueless. You saw the way his eyes struggled to keep themselves from wandering all over your body. After years of crushing on him, it was exciting for you to see him try to hide his growing attraction towards you as an adult.

After saying goodbye to your students for the day, you went over what you’d say to Remus in your head. You wanted to sincerely apologize to him for all that you put him through in addition to proposing a new start with him, this time as coworkers not student and teacher.

It wasn’t hard for you to find his classroom since it was next to yours and it had “Mr. Lupin Room 3C” written on a card taped to the door.

It didn’t take long for a gruff voice to reply with “come in” muffled by the wood after you knocked on it.

As you opened the door, the familiar feelings of your literal school-girl crush fluttered in your chest.

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound angry, just tired.

“I-” your words got stuck in your throat as he looked up from where he sat hunched down behind his desk. He certainly looked older than the last time you saw him before finishing school, but he was no less handsome in your eyes in that brown suit he used to wear when you were his student. Suddenly, you felt like the same immature student again, being asked to explain yourself as you nervously played with the hem of your sleeves.

“I just wanted to say hello.” You tried speaking again.

“You already have. During lunchtime.” You saw him grinding his jaw as his eyes raked over your body. He cleared his throat before standing up to grab his satchel and walk to the door, where you happened to be.

“Okay, I just wanted to say I’m sorry, then.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized how close he was standing in front of you. It seemed that you weren’t the only one either. He brushed his fingers through his brown hair, making you wish you could brush your fingers through them instead.

“For what?” He asked bemusedly.

“For being so annoying and giving you a hard time in school. I thought maybe we could start over?” You said hurriedly, blushing and looking at your high heels which were almost touching his loafers.

You bit your lip as you gazed into his eyes, hopeful he’d take up in your proposal. He looked down at your hand which you extended, as if considering the possibility.

“Nice try.” Your mouth hung open at his blank words and you didn’t know what to say.

“Excuse me?” Your hopes for starting a professional and cordial relationship with him were now ruined.

“Apologies are more than just words. You of all people should know that since I was the one who taught you that. Goodbye.” You gave him the same dirty look you used to give him as he turned his back towards you, leaving you alone in his classroom.

That was the first of your interactions with him in that school year. Being two teachers who taught students of the same year, you were often assigned together for most school related activities like yard duty, supervising lunch, and the field trips… you couldn’t stop the dull aching heat between your thighs as you both would have to sit on the same bench on the bus rides.

It was even worse when you were fidgeting in your seat one time, when all the sudden, the bus ran over a huge bump causing you to tumble on top of Remus with his knee under your skirt, between your legs. You had grasped onto his shoulders for stability and he had grabbed your waist when his eyes had widened as he realized where his knee had touched you. You were too frozen to where you couldn’t stop staring at his lips that were close enough to yours that if you leaned in a millimeter more, you’d kiss him.

“Sorry.” You let out an exhale which was interrupted as you realized how good your pussy felt when you rubbed it against his thigh in an attempt to get off of him.

You were thankful that your students were young and innocent enough not to suspect anything, not to jump to conclusions if they saw you in your compromising position.

For the rest of the bus ride, you tried not to think about how your new coworker had accidentally turned you on.

It wasn’t like Remus would ever try to deny your flirting. You knew this because he never actively pushed you away. Every time you’d pass by him, you’d give his shoulder or arm a little brush where you’d catch his hungry gaze on you.

You were alone in the teachers’ lounge, the rest of the staff having gone home already.

Even in heels, you still weren’t tall enough to reach for the folders that were on the top shelf, so you did what anybody would do and positioned yourself on the table so that your knees would hold your weight up.

A shiver went up your spine as you felt a presence behind you.

“Need help?” Remus’ husky voice made its way to your ear.

You were glad your back was turned to him so that he couldn’t see how red your cheeks had gotten. You were also glad that he didn’t wait for you to answer him as he reached above your head, making his weight shift onto your ass where you could’ve sworn you felt a bulge.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” You could’ve sworn he was smirking behind you as he set the empty folders next to you.

You turned around, hoping that he’d backed up to give you enough space to get off, but what you didn’t expect was for his hands to be on your waist, blocking you.

“What do you say?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Thank you.” You put your hand on his shoulder to use as leverage to get yourself down from the table.

“Wow. Seems you aren’t such a brat anymore.” He laughed.

“What does that supposed to mean?” You thought you had grown past your immature teenage self, but apparently you had let Remus get under your skin with his backhanded compliment.

“There she is.” He scoffed. “With that same fucking attitude that did no good. You’re not so high and mighty now just because you’re a teacher.”

You didn’t know if your face was red from anger, embarrassment, or something else.

“Don’t act like I haven’t been nice to you.” You countered back heatedly.

“Too nice.” His voice had gotten lower.

“Anyways,” you tried to ignore the tingling feeling in your stomach that erupted as you saw him gazing at your lips with the lack of distance between you. “I actually tried showing you how much I changed.”

He scoffed again.

“By being nice? You know flirting won’t get you anywhere.”

You realized he just admitted to you straight up that he caught onto your flirting.

“Don’t act as if you haven’t changed the way you used to look at me. I saw you checking me out on the first day of school.” This was your way of probing at him.

“What?! I-”

“It’s okay to stare. I know because I used to do it to you… Not that I stopped.” You purred, running your fingers lightly along his firm chest.

Remus grunted at the pleasurable sensation. You were driving him crazy, and not like how you used to when you were his student. Speaking of which, he kept reminding himself that what he was letting you do to him was unprofessional and inappropriate, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to stop you.

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to fuck the hot teacher.” Your lips were so almost touching his earlobe.

“Stop it.” He grabbed your wrists.

“Or else what? How are you gonna punish me?” You licked your lips. “Except you can’t. Because I’m the teacher.”

He realized you had a point as he let go of your wrists.

“How about this? It’s getting late, so I’ll order some food for us.” You suggested. Please say yes. You wished Remus could read your mind.

“You don’t have to do that for me.” He waved you off as he moved to grab his cardigan off the chair.

“Please. It’s the least I could do for you.” Remus felt a sliver of guilt at rejecting your proposal as you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “And… I want to.”

After Remus had reluctantly taken up on your offer, you had ordered take out on your phone. By the time the food arrived, you were still fighting over who was going to pay. You insisted you pay because it was your idea and you wanted to do him a favor while he didn’t really have a counterargument other than he really wanted to pay. This led to him shoving cash into the driver’s hands and shutting the door before you had a chance to do anything.

“You did all that with your hands?” You rolled your eyes and laughed while nervously twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“I can do other things with my hands too.”

Remus was unaware of how suggestive what he said was until you looked from his eyes to his crotch while licking your lips.

“I’d love to know what other things.” You said, making Remus swallow loudly at how low and seductive your voice sounded.

You both ate across the table from each other in an awkward silence, each of you mentally coming up with topics to discuss preferably away from whatever it is you were talking about earlier. Remus needed to find a way to cool down from the sexual tension from earlier.

“How was your life after you graduated?” Remus was the first to talk.

“It was a bit boring really. All I did was study in university, and didn't really go out much.” You said before shoving an entire dumpling in your mouth with your chopsticks. Remus couldn’t control the corner of his mouth as it turned upwards. You looked silly, like a cartoon chipmunk.

“How have you been?” You asked once you had swallowed your food.

“Alright.” He shrugged.

“Really? There’s got to be more. Haven’t you gone on any dates?” Remus’ eyes widened at your inquiries of his relationship status as he felt the tip of your shoes dipping under the hem of his trouser leg.

“No, actually.” He was able to compose himself enough to draw out a steady response as he tried to ignore how much his dick was starting to ache and the fact that he noticed you had taken off your shoe making him feel the soft nylon covering your foot gliding upward.

“That’s a shame. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

And I want that woman to be me, you thought.

While you enjoyed this little game you were playing with Remus, you didn’t like that it usually led to nowhere. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him. It was that obvious. You knew you were terrible at hiding your feelings for someone whenever you had a crush, but this time, with Remus you didn’t care. He wasn’t your teacher anymore, you were both adults, and you were equals. Something sparked within you every time you saw him get flustered around you. You wanted to keep that spark going. Even if it was a boring day where all the students had the day off for professional development day, leaving the school campus occupied by no one but the staff.

In addition to the staff meeting being extremely long, you could tell it was going to be extremely boring even though this was only your first year of teaching at the school.

You cursed yourself for waking up an hour later than you intended to, leaving you barely enough time to do anything other than throw on your clothes. You couldn’t prepare any breakfast for yourself or stop by a cafe, so you were left with lazily braiding your hair on the bus ride while mentally coming up with how you would apologize to everyone.

Clutching your book bag against the side of your body, you swung the door open to the staff room. Multiple eyes met yours, some glaring, others just blank, as if they were expecting you to be the type of young teacher to slack off.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” You apologized awkwardly as you tucked some hair behind your ear, being afraid to face the older staff whom you thought would silently berate you on your tardiness with their scowls.

“Nothing to worry about.” Your boss, Dumbledore was standing in front of the table with his hands folded in front of him. “Remus was kind enough to save a seat for you.”

True to his word, Remus was sitting next to an empty seat. He was looking at you with a smirk like it was meant only for you to see. You gave him a small nod in acknowledgment as you smoothed out your skirt underneath you and sat down on the chair.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the meeting resumed. You reached into your book bag and took out your notepad before absentmindedly scribbling down whatever came up that you thought would be important enough for later.

You had no idea how long you’d been writing for when you suddenly became aware of the large hand that was on your knee. You looked to your right, expecting Remus to be glancing at you, but he looked just as bored as half of the people in the room did, looking straight ahead. You had to look down again to make sure it was really the same hand that was connected to his body.

You squeezed your legs together in an attempt to sooth that dull ache that got stronger each time Remus decided to move his hand just a tad higher until you sucked in a breath as you saw it disappear under your skirt. Remus on the other hand looked unfazed as he used his impressive strength to push your legs apart with one hand. It’s not like you were resisting as he rubbed circles along the exposed skin.

You bit your lip as you felt the tip of his calloused finger trace along the lace edge of your panties. You started to squirm in the damp spot that was forming dangerously close to where his fingers were.

It was as if in that moment, every other person in the room beside you and Remus were pushed to the back of your mind. You were still aware of their presence, it’s just that you didn’t care. You still had enough self awareness to try and keep the expression on your face neutral no matter how badly you wanted to scream as you felt the blunt end of Remus’ fingernail teasing the swollen nub above the dampness of the cotton. That overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation he was imposing on you felt so wrong in a place like this and so good. Your mind was in that zone between wanting him to stop and wanting him to keep going. You wondered how the small movements of his fingers could be so precise and so impactful at the same time.

You could feel the pleasure escalating directly onto your clit as you held your breath, desperately hoping no one else at this dreadful meeting was paying attention to you except for Remus. More than anything, you changed your mind and decided you wanted him to continue pleasuring you like this to distract you. You’d have to be quiet, you told yourself.

Being quiet just got harder because you felt his fingers move inside of your panties, coating themselves along your throbbing pussy.

There was no going back for you. You kept your head down, too aware of how red your face had become, as you gripped the armrests of your chair.

Meanwhile Remus continued to rub tight circles on your clit, this time, it was like you felt the grooves of his fingerprint on the oversensitive bundle of nerves, and the experience of having someone else do it to you felt different and so much more exciting than doing it to yourself.

You could tell Remus was experienced as he knew the exact spots to touch you to make you feel like you were on the edge, but not quite over it.

You didn’t have to look at him to know that son of a bitch knew you were hating and loving this moment and what he was doing to you.

“Is she okay?” You heard some of the older teachers ask. You didn’t think they were talking about you, so you chose not to reply.

That was when Remus pulled his fingers out, and with that same hand, he set it on your shoulder. “You alright?” He asked gently. That was when you were brought out of your trance, not realizing how loudly you were panting.

You were mortified when you turned to look at him and could see your juices on his fingers, still wet and glistening under the lighting. You wished your chair would just swallow you up.

You heard Dumbledore chuckle from the front of the room. You thought he was mocking you for not paying attention, but you didn’t care. You wanted to leave, and it looked as if he answered your prayers. “Perhaps the meeting is getting a little too boring for some of us. Not to worry, there is a lunch break coming up.” He said.

Lunch? That’s right. Your stomach started to grumble when you realized you hadn’t eaten anything since waking up, nor did you bring anything to eat. That left you with drinking from the water fountain outside as your only option.

You heard footsteps behind you as you took a sip from the fountain.

“Have you got any idea how much of a compromising position you’re in?” You heard Remus’ voice and you could swear he was staring at your ass.

“Now I do.” You stood up straight as you met his eyes. “Especially after the little stunt you pulled.”

“What stunt?” He smirked. He knew what you were referring to. “Oh. Yes, the one where I embarrassed you, reminding you of the slut you are?”

You gasped. You never in a million years thought you’d hear someone who used to be in a position of power over you straight up call you a slut (except for in your fantasies) and it turned you on when he did.

“Is that what you wanted? Did you want me to finish the job too?” He said in that low, husky voice as he stepped closer to you. You weakly nodded as you looked up, only to quickly look back down at the intensity of his stare. “Use your words.” You felt the backs of his fingers brush against your heated cheek as he used them to bring your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“I… I want this… I want you.” You whispered, looking deep into his eyes hoping he’d get the point.

“Are you sure?” Now it was his turn to look shy. He was scratching his light brown stubble and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. We could go back to how things were before and pretend nothing between us happened.” He was lying of course. He would never be able to pretend nothing happened between you two.

“Remus, please kiss me.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. You were hopelessly turned on, and there was no going back for either of you.

He turned his head away from you, making you worried that he was rejecting you only for him to say, “We need to make sure the door to my classroom is locked first.”

As soon as the door to the classroom was locked, Remus had you pinned against it with his hands on your hips.

“My God, you’re so beautiful.” He let out an exhale as his thumb traced your bottom lip, making you shiver both at the words and physical contact.

You’d never felt more alive than when he finally crashed his lips onto yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Remus asked, looking into your eyes for any sign of doubt.

You nodded. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.” You’ve been a prankster and a nuisance, but you’d never lie about something as serious as this.

Everything around you started to become a blur as Remus continued to kiss you while walking you to where his desk was until your ass was planted against it.

“Look at you.” His eyes glided up and down your body like a wolf checking out his next meal. “Is my needy slut not satisfied? Does she want more?” Fuck, he really hit the nail on the head with that one.

Remus took a seat on his chair before he patted his thigh. You took a gulp before turning around, but not before he put his hand on your lower back, stopping you. “Not so fast.”

You looked to him behind you, and raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“You don’t deserve to sit on a throne like a Princess. Bad girls like you need the right discipline.” You didn’t need for him to explain to you that you understood how this was going to work.

You were in a position of obedience. You took a deep breath as you placed yourself on his lap, chest and torso pressed against his lower body.

“That’s better.” Remus chuckled from above you as he ran his finger along the skin of your inner thigh. It then felt like only a moment before his entire hand wrapped around it with his thumb lightly tracing along your clothed pussy. You let out a soft moan as you raised your ass up in an attempt to grind against his fingers before he pulled them away.

“You’ve completely soaked through your panties. Such a needy, little slut.” He said in response to how your body reacted to his touch. “Here’s what I’ll do.” He started to say as he gathered your hands behind your back. You heard the sound of fabric shuffling and you felt something smooth around your wrists, which you guessed was a necktie. “How about I teach this slut a lesson, and if she’s a good girl, I’ll give her a special reward?”

“What reward? What do you mean?” Your demanding questions came out in a way that made you sound whiny as you squirmed on his lap.

Remus knew if he continued letting you move around on his lap, his erection would only get more unbearable to the point of not being able to contain himself, and that’s not what he wanted. He needed you to understand that he was the one in control, and you were only under his mercy.

He couldn’t help admiring the plumpness of your ass that was covered by the thin material of your panties as he lifted your skirt. He could even see the damp spot on the gusset that he had been looking forward to committing to his memory.

“Ow!” You shut your eyes as you felt a sharp slap on your skin.

“That’s what you get.” He whispered in your ear. Something about his voice sounded different. Maybe feral. It only reminded you of how much you wanted to see this side of him more often, growling in your ear, making you feel like a small prey he deserved to feast on.

“Think you can be quiet?” He asked as he slid his thumb inside your panties where it found your swollen lips.

“Yes.” You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back another scream this time as he delivered a second spank to your bottom.

“I don’t think so.” He scoffed harshly as he yanked your panties down your legs and bunched up the piece of fabric soaked with your juices into a ball before quickly forcing it into your mouth. “There. I won’t have such a hard time getting you to shut up.”

This was it. You were silenced. You were nothing but a toy to him, stuffed with no way to talk back. You couldn’t be happier with how it was, you were under his control as he used your body in ways you craved to be used.

“Don’t worry, Beautiful. I’ll take good care of you.” He soothingly stroked his long fingers over your scalp, undoing your braid and making your hair fall around your face.

With his other hand, he pushed your legs apart, exposing your warm, wet cunt to the dry air. Your body stiffened at the sharp contrast. God, you so desperately wanted him to insert something into your aching hole already! You didn’t care if it was his fingers or his cock, you needed to be filled up good and full until-

Your thoughts were interrupted as another spank, this time harsher than the others, was inflicted on the raw skin you were sure already had red welts forming there. You would’ve been pleased if that were the case. You wanted to be marked as his.

Another spank landed on the other side of your ass.

In contrast to the pain on your ass, the pleasurable sensation of his fingers dragging along your folds was enough to make you moan so loudly even the make-shift gag couldn’t muffle it completely. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get his fingers into you deeper, but he pulled them away too fast for you. You felt tears stream down your face accompanied by pathetic sobs.

“This is what you get for being a bad girl.” With each word that he growled, each slap on your ass, the ache only grew deeper inside your cunt, reminding you how much you needed him.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the spanking was replaced by his large hand softly rubbing circles on the raw skin. By the time he was done, your legs were shaking as much as your breaths. This was only the beginning.

You stood on shaky legs that would’ve fallen had it not been for the assistance of the desk behind your or Remus holding your hips in place.

“I just wanted to see how beautiful you look, crying, before I bend you over my desk.” He gently brushed the tears under your eyes with his thumb. If it weren’t for the situation you were in, one could mistake the look on Remus’ face as sympathetic.

As quick as he was to show his gentle side, he roughly turned you around and pushed your back forward. With your hands still tied behind your back, you weren’t able to catch yourself as the force of your chest slamming on top of the desk knocked the breath out of you.

“Aww, does my crybaby slut want it now?” He cooed into your ear as he brushed some hair back. “Has she got no more tears left in her eyes? Why don’t I check on that cunt? I’m sure it’s weeping more than your eyes have in your life.”

Why was he being such a tease? If he wanted to tease you, you would’ve rather have him tease you with his fingers not his taunting words.

Another sob ripped through your shaking body as his finger curled inside of you.

“Fucking hell, I can’t do this anymore.” You heard him whisper to himself behind you. You wanted to smirk as you heard the sound of the belt and zipper being undone.

It was as if your pussy could finally breathe in relief as the smooth tip of his cock found your entrance and soon after, the entire length was able to slide in, making not only your pussy feel full, but also your belly.

“Fuck! You’re so wet.” Remus grunted as he held onto your shoulder, pressing it against the hardwood. You didn’t mind the pain on your shoulder that was accompanied by each thrust. Pleasure was the only thing that mattered to you.

You’d gotten to the point where you realized you could no longer rely on your fingers or your toys to make you feel full and pleasured the same way Remus was making you feel. You were his dependent whore, that’s how you’d come to see it. And you loved it. You loved every thrust and every time his cock would hit the right places, the tightness inside you became stronger until you felt it explode (or it was combined with Remus spilling himself inside you,) making you sob loudly. You needed a moment to collect yourself.

“Did you also cum?” He asked as soon as he caught his breath. You nodded. “You’re so irresistible you don’t know how hard it is to keep myself from spilling inside you so fast.”

You felt him tug on the tie around your wrists, pulling your body against his chest.

“You were such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.” He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. Yes, this moment was the proudest you’d ever seen him being of you.

You didn’t realize how stiff your jaw had become until he took out your bunched up panties from your mouth, and put them in his back pocket.

“I haven’t got a spare… it’s so sticky down there.” Your weak protest was shut with a smirk on his lips.

“Too bad. Deal with it. Let it be a reminder of the dirty whore you are.” He said, encircling his arms around your body to untie your wrists. You brought them to your sides, bending them back and forth, relieved to be freed.

Once the two of you had fixed yourselves back to decency, you heard your stomach rumbling, reminding you of the lack of food you’d eaten.

“Would you… like to come over to my place after we’re done with the meeting? You must be starving. I can cook for you or get some takeout, whatever you want. You don’t have to. I just mean, if it’s something you’d want to do with me.”

Now it was your turn to make him shut up as you pressed your lips onto his cheek. “I’d love to.”

[staytheword]

clear skies

clear skies — one shot sequel of falling rain [ masterlist ] 

— bang chan x female reader. also features han jisung, lee know, yeji (itzy), and san (ateez).

— non idol au. friends to lovers. mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff, angst, drinking, explicit language, explicit smut, a lot of discussion around break-ups, closure, healing, etc. smut warnings (spoilers) — oral sex (m receiving), protected sex, some dirty talk, no major warnings.

— word count: 6.8k

— !! please consider reading falling rain before reading this, as it is a direct sequel and I fear it will make much less sense without the first part :') ♡

You and Chan are friends. Maybe a little more than that, after your night together. You find yourself healing, really healing, until your ex makes you question everything.

You knock on the door of apartment 6, nervously biting your lip. A few seconds later, it opens on Jisung. He looks like he just got out of bed although it’s early afternoon, which wouldn’t be surprising considering what you know of his sleeping schedule. 

“Y/N,” he smiles. “We don’t often see you around here. What’s up?” 

You show him the bag you’re holding. 

“Chan told me he was sick. I brought him some stuff.” 

Jisung gives you a long look but he opens the door so you can come in. You enter the apartment, taking a curious look around. You’ve only been here for parties, and nothing looks the same in the dark. In the direct sunlight of the afternoon, and without all the people, it feels like a whole different place. 

“Yeah, he told me he caught a cold,” Jisung says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “No idea how.” 

“It’s been raining pretty bad these days,” you shrug. 

Jisung nods, still looking at you suspiciously. You do your best not to act differently than you do, hoping your friend isn’t as good at reading you as Chan is. Because you have no idea if Jisung knows about what happened. You haven’t told anyone yet, although you’re planning to spill everything to Yeji soon. You’re not sure how Chan feels about the other night - you’re not sure how you feel about the other night. 

But when he told you he was sick - because of you and the scene you made under the rain - you couldn’t just stay home. You had to make it up to him. So you got him soup from his favorite place, as well as a few snacks. 

“He’s in his room,” Jisung says eventually. 

“Thanks, Ji.”

“Sure. I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He gestures towards the couch, and you give him a smile. As you walk away, you see him hit the controller, and the show on the television starts playing again - although from what you can feel on your back, he’s staring at you. 

You knock on Chan’s door and a tired voice tells you to come in. 

He’s laying on his bed, half sitting up, playing on his Switch. His hair is a mess, and so is his room, but you don’t mind. All you see are his red nose, his chapped lips, the hazy look in his eyes. 

“Oh, Chan,” you sigh, and he chuckles. 

“I look that bad, yeah?”

His nasal voice clearly shows he’s sick, and you pout, closing the door behind you. 

“You didn’t have to come all the way here,” he says.

“I wanted to. I brought you a few things.” 

You sit on the bed next to him, opening the bag and taking out what you know are his favorite snacks, placing them on the desk close by. 

“And also this,” you tell him, removing the bowl of soup. 

As he recognizes the restaurant name on the lid, his eyes light up. One of his favorites. 

“Ohh. Ohhh.” 

“Thought that might make you feel better. Eat, while it’s still warm.” 

He giggles excitedly, his Switch abandoned next to him, and he sits upright, carefully taking the bowl in his hands. You just watch him as he takes his first spoonful, closing his eyes to savor the taste. 

“I think I’m cured,” he says with a laugh.

You smile affectionately, relieved to see he’s not too sick to eat. As your eyes linger on his face, you realize you can’t really stay. You have no reason to, after all. You look down at your hands. 

“Ji was highly suspicious of my visit,” you tell Chan. 

He frowns. “What did he say?” 

“Nothing,” you sigh. “But it was obvious.” 

“Well…” Chan swallows. “I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

You nod, but you’re not sure what to answer. You don’t know if you’re happy about that or not. 

“I’ve been too sick, didn’t feel right,” he explains, keeping his eyes on you. Despite their glassiness, you read them well. “Should I have?” 

“No,” you answer. “I mean - not if you didn’t want to. Of course not.” 

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No,” you say, looking up at him. “I want to tell Yeji, though. Is that okay?” 

He smiles. 

“Of course. I don’t want you to feel like it has to be a secret.” 

You sigh in relief. “I agree. It’s just… Some might not understand.” 

“We don’t have to tell everyone,” Chan shrugs. “We’re still friends, right? That doesn’t change.” 

You blink. 

Just you and me.

Just you and me tonight. 

“We are,” you smile, and you believe it. 

That night, Chan made you feel seen like you never had before. A part of you wonders if it means you have fallen in love. But as you sit next to him, looking at him eating his soup so excitedly, you realize it’s not. What you shared is special - and you told each other things that did matter, and that did change your relationship. But you are still yourselves. You don’t want to bury yourself in doubt. Not now. There are still things you need to figure out about yourself and what you want. 

You need to find yourself first so you can honor him. 

So you can love him like he should be loved. 

Maybe Chan can fall in love with you.

Maybe you can fall in love with him. 

For now, you are friends. 

A little more than that. 

But it’s still enough.

“So, yeah. We had sex.” 

Yeji gasps, putting a hand over her mouth. Despite the gesture, she does not seem that surprised, and you arch an eyebrow at her. 

“I mean -” she stammers. “It’s not that I’m not surprised, I’m just - well -” 

You let out a chuckle. “C’mon, spit it out.” 

She sighs. “I guess I just expected it to happen some day.” 

You take your mug in your hand, lifting it to your lips. The cafe is quiet tonight - it’s a weeknight, so the only people there are students catching up on studying and people talking casually. You adore this place - it’s close to your apartment, the coffee is good, and it’s never too busy. Yeji and you regularly meet up there for a pastry or a latte, as you are tonight. 

“So you knew, huh?” 

“Knew what?” 

“That he had a crush on me.” 

She shakes her head as you take a sip from your latte. Her hair is tied into a long braid today, and although she looks tired from work, she still manages to look breathtaking. That’s just Yeji. 

“No. I didn’t - not for sure,” she smiles. “I just had a feeling. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.” 

You sigh, putting down the mug. “I guess you’re right about that.” 

She gives you a sweet smile. 

“So how was it?” 

“The sex?” When she nods, your smile can’t help but widen. “It was good. Really good.” 

“Really good, huh?” she giggles.

“Really good.” 

You keep laughing, and you indulge her when she asks for details. You have nothing to hide, anyway - you know you need to open yourself up to people, and with Yeji it’s always been easy and mutual. That’s something you learned, sometimes at a bitter cost. It’s all right to give to people, as long as they do the same. Throwing pieces of you into the void - that’s how you lose yourself. 

“I’m so glad, Y/N,” she says, putting her hand on yours. “You look good.” 

“I feel a little better. And it’s not even just Chan, you know. I think… In a way, I think I’m relieved, actually. About San.” 

Yeji gives you the time to measure the words on your tongue. You think about your ex, the one who loved you, the one who hurt you, and all the things in between.

“He has someone. He’s moved on. I can too. To see him heal - it helps me.” 

You’re not even lying. 

It’s not that everything is perfect again - of course it isn’t. But you’re putting the pieces of yourself back together, slowly. Learning to love again - yourself and others. 

It’s been about a week since Chan spent the night at your place. Since then, you’ve seen each other a few times, sometimes just the two of you, sometimes with others. When he recovered from his cold you went for brunch. To see a movie. You spent a night at the boys’ apartment to play board games. 

You haven’t slept together again. A part of you wants to, but you’re not interested in forcing it. The only time you almost did was back at his place, but Jisung and Minho had both been there, yelling nonsense in the living room. Not the most romantic background music. So you just held each other tight, exchanged a few kisses. Chan played with your hair. You put your hand on his chest to feel him breathe. 

You and Yeji talk some more, and then you decide to head back home, as you’re both working early the next day. After a hug, you give her a smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night? At the party?” 

She gives you a surprised look. “You’re coming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Honey…” She frowns. “You know San and his girlfriend will be there, right?” 

You nod. 

“I know. That’s all right.” 

She smiles, puts a hand against your cheek. “Healing looks good on you.” 

It’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever told you.

Healing is a complicated thing. 

Healing takes time, and healing is never a straight line. 

One moment you’ll feel you can take anything, and the next the ground shifts from under you and you collapse. 

You thought you’d be strong enough. 

You’re not. 

“I miss you,” San says, not even able to look at you. “I know it’s a shitty thing to say, I know I’ve been a dick, but… it’s the truth.” 

You did not expect this. 

You did not expect this at all.

You thought San was over you. But now, here he is, looking tired and anxious, telling you he’s broken up with his girlfriend because something didn’t feel right. Because he missed something. You. 

“I…” you stammer. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he breathes out. He’s tipsy, you know him well enough for that. His body sways a little as he shrugs. “I just wanted you to know.” 

“O-okay.” 

And just like that, like he hasn’t just dropped a rock in your throat, like he hasn’t just set off a bomb in your chest, he walks away. You stare at the back of his head, your fingers squeezing the bottle of beer in your hand. You’re glad it’s made of thicker glass, that it won’t crush under the pressure. Still, it feels brittle. 

You arrived at the party more than an hour ago, and you’ve been having a good time. You played a drinking game of cards, danced with Jeongin and Lily, flirted with Chan. The two of you are not together - but you’re not not together either. The night was going so well you barely noticed that San was not accompanied like he was supposed to be. He avoided you up until minutes ago, asking you if he could talk. Now you stand in the backyard, looking up at the night sky and wondering how your legs will be able to carry you home. 

You wish it would start raining. That would make more sense than the tears on your cheeks. 

You frown, shaking your head. You’ve been doing so well. Your heart was repairing itself, helped by Chan’s smile, by the strength you found in yourself through his eyes. After so much time in a relationship, you are actually enjoying some time on your own, even if a part of you belongs to Chan. He’s respecting the distance you need, never too close but never far. You like Chan. A lot. 

San misses you. 

You miss him too. 

Do you want him back? 

It would be so simple to fall back into it. Like letting your body float in safe waters, the current sweeping you away. Easing back into the comfort you had built together. But you can’t. You don’t love San anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore either. He’s just confused. He’s processing things in a different order from you. 

Right? 

Still, it would be so easy. 

“Y/N?” 

You turn around at the sound of Chan’s voice. It feels like a familiar song in the middle of a cacophony. He brings you back to that night, your limbs entangled on the couch, his chest moving up and down as he slept next to you. Being with Chan feels easy too, but it is more than that - it feels right. 

It also feels terrifying.

“Are you crying?” he frowns. 

You shake your head. “A little. It’s okay. It’s nothing bad.” 

“I just saw San walk away,” Chan says tensely. 

You can feel him getting angry, so you put a hand on his arm, trying to gather the right words. 

Chan sighs. “What did he say to you?” 

“Chan, please,” you breathe out. “Calm down.” 

“I just don’t want him to hurt you again -” 

“He misses me,” you interrupt him, meeting his gaze. Chan stops and looks at you. You can’t quite read his expression. “That’s what he told me. That he missed me. He broke up with the girl because of it.” 

Chan pushes his fingers against his temple. “That fucking asshole…” 

“Chan -” 

“No, Y/N.” It’s his time to interrupt you and you freeze on the spot. “I know what you will say, but that still doesn’t make it okay. He shouldn’t put this burden on you. Whatever his process is, it’s not fair to pull you in and out of it like he is.” 

Your mouth is dry. “I…” You don't even know what you want to say. 

“Please,” Chan says, taking your hand in his. The warmth it spreads on your fingers makes you realize how cold you are. “Don’t let him in.” 

His eyes are dark oceans you want to fall into. He looks so handsome, with his hair dancing in the breeze, his sharp jaw that you want to kiss. Those lips that were everywhere on you that night. Those fingers that held you tight. 

The pang of longing that passes through you makes you dizzy and you take a step back, removing your hand from his. You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. This is a lot. This is too much. Your lungs burn and your heart is being torn apart.

What you want. What you need. What you can’t help but miss. 

“Y/N?” Chan asks so delicately it feels like a caress. 

You shake your head, holding a palm up, not even able to look at him. “I- I’m sorry. This is just a lot. I… I need to think, I…”  

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ll give you space. Do you want me to get Yeji, or anyone else?” 

You nod. “Yeji’s good.” 

“Ok. Ok. Stay there.” 

You let Chan walk away, and once you can’t hear his footsteps, you let your knees buckle. You collapse on the grass, bringing your legs against your body, the bottle of beer hanging pathetically from your fingers. 

You don’t know anything anymore. 

You’re mad. Sad. Confused. Torn. 

You look up at the sky, empty of clouds. There’s just nothingness there.

Why can’t it rain for once?

It’s been a few days since the party. Or you think it has. Time has been tricky, lately, twisting and turning in ways you didn’t expect it too. Days feel like seconds. Hours feel like weeks. 

Your head is laying on Yeji’s lap. She’s braiding it, the both of you watching your favorite show. You’ve seen these episodes a dozen times but you don’t care. It’s just so there’s noise instead of the deafening silence. Something to look at instead of the abysmal nothingness. Yeji made you sure you ate something. 

You’re going backwards.

A descent.

A regression.

Yeji calls it a bump in the road, but it doesn’t feel like a bump. It feels like a black hole sucking you in, tearing you apart at the seams. 

Chan is on your mind. His kindness, his eyes that understand you better than anyone does. San is on your mind. His comforting arms, his familiarity. You don’t know what to do. You feel stuck. You want to listen to your heart, but it has remained silent, like it wants you to make the decision. 

For now you have shut yourself off. You don’t answer anyone, except for Yeji. But then again, she forced the lock, sat you down and said, cry. Scream. Punch someone. I don’t care, but do something. You did all of those things. You cried, you screamed, and, well - you punched your pillow. 

Everything felt right. Now everything feels blurry. 

It was so hard to get yourself back on track, and now that you’ve derailed, you feel worse than before. It’s so stupid, too. They’re just boys. 

That’s what Yeji told you - and she’s terribly right. You can’t allow yourself to feel like this for boys. And yet you can’t shake the lethargy. So you decide to give yourself the time. Figure things out.

You owe it to the both of them.

Chan. San. 

Whatever the truth is, they deserve it. 

Yeji’s phone vibrates on the table in front of you and you sit up to let her answer it. Your eyes unconsciously fall on the screen, and you see Chan’s name. Your chest tightens and you look away. Yeji squeezes your hand.

“What’s up, Chan?” she answers. 

You can discern his voice, not what he says, and you try not to stare. Instead you grab the mug of tea you’ve barely touched and take a sip. It’s lukewarm. 

“I’m good,” Yeji says. “Just watching tv.” She pauses. “Y/N?” 

Your heart drops at the bottom of your stomach and you look up at your friend. You shake your head. 

“Yeah, she’s here,” Yeji continues. “But she’s asleep.” You smile faintly at her as a thank you. “Yeah, I’ll tell her you called. Okay. See you soon.” 

She hangs up, putting down the phone, and you wince. “Sorry you had to lie because of me.” 

“That’s okay, honey. I just…” She hesitates, but you nod, encouraging her to speak her mind. You need her to. “You know you can talk to Chan, right? He’s your friend, first and foremost. Whatever happened between you, whatever the feelings… He’ll listen. He cares.”

“I know,” you say faintly, playing with the blanket on your knees. “I just don’t even know what I would say. And if I see him… I’ll just get more confused.” 

Because Chan is a dream guy - handsome and kind, with the cutest smile. Because Chan will remind you of what happened that night, of the way he held you, of the way he made you shiver. 

Yeji smiles softly. “I understand. I just wanted to remind you.” 

“Thank you. I’ll try to text him later. I have to answer San, too, he messaged me like two days ago…” 

A sudden surge of anxiety overtakes you, and you breathe out. Yeji puts a hand on your leg. “Breathe, Y/N. One thing at a time.” 

“A part of me just wants to say, fuck it, I’m just going to be single, you know?” you chuckle, feeling the tears at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t need anyone. I’ll give myself time to heal. But when I tell myself that, then… I feel so empty. Like I’m making a terrible mistake.” 

You shrug. 

“The worst part is, I already know what I want,” you whisper. Chan. Chan. Chan. “But the past won’t let me go.” 

“The past doesn’t control you,” Yeji breathes, giving you a smile. “You control what hold it has on you. You have to let it go.” 

You wipe the tears from your eyes. “But what if letting San go is a mistake?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Yeji tells you. “Missing someone doesn’t mean you still love them, or that you’re right for each other. It just means you care. It just means what you had was real - and moving on from it doesn’t take that away.” 

You breathe in slowly, giving your friend a tight hug. 

The skies will clear. 

And even if they don’t, the rain really isn’t that bad. 

Rain is cold, rain is heavy. But rain is a thing of beauty.

You hear the door close behind you and you pause. The relief is spreading through your body. The knots, untangled. The wounds, soothed. This will scar - but it will heal. It already is. 

A part of you can’t help it - you turn around to glance at the closed door. Apartment 2B. You spent so much time there, loving San, being loved by him. It felt right to return there to have the conversation you needed to have. Both of you, sober, calm, ready. I miss you too, you told him. But we don’t love each other anymore, and we have to let each other go. 

I know, San nodded. Or I’ll learn to know. He smiled then. You were always the strongest of us. 

You’re not sure it’s true, but you’ll accept it. Strength is something you have, strength is something you grow. It’s not constant. It’s not even logical. Even strength can break. Even strength can be weak. 

You leave the apartment building. Poetically, the rain from earlier has ceased. It still hangs in the air, hazy, leaving the streets wet. As you walk, you watch droplets fall from the tree leaves, distorted visions of the city and sky in puddles. Your umbrella is useless in your hand, still dripping from earlier. You spin it a little in your hands, making the water trapped in it dance. 

You know exactly what you will do next. 

Your next destination is not exactly close but you enjoy the long walk. The sky has gotten dark, your cheeks are a little red, and your heart is spinning. But you know this is what you have to do. You know it’s what you want to do. 

Once again, it’s Jisung that answers the door. When he sees you, he smiles playfully. 

“You’re around here a lot these days, Y/N. I wonder why.” 

You shake your head with an amused smile, refusing to encourage him. “And you’re too curious for your own good, Han Jisung. Is -” 

“Chan here?” he finishes, his grin widening. “Come in.” 

You nudge him by the elbow as he closes the door behind you, following him to the living room. You find Chan there with Minho, holding controllers, the coffee table covered in beer bottles and snacks. Jisung sits back down, pushing Chan’s hoodie back to reveal a chaos of brown curls. 

“It’s for you, lover boy.” 

Minho gives you a wave as he drinks a sip of beer, his eyes not leaving the television screen. Chan, however, looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

You fidget a little, pulling on the sleeves of your jacket. “I wanted to talk to you. Do you have time?” 

“Y-yeah, of course…” Chan answers. He puts down the controller, standing up to meet you. Behind him, Jisung follows your conversation, not trying to be subtle in the slightest. “Is everything okay?” Chan adds in a whisper. 

You nod and smile reassuringly. “Yeah. Do you want to take a walk, maybe?” You are a bit tired from walking all the way here, but you’re not sure you want to do this inside. 

“Isn’t it raining?” Chan frowns. 

“It’s stopped,” you say, and Chan smiles. 

“Let me get my shoes.” 

You tell him to take his time, but Chan only heads towards the door and slips on his sneakers. You wave at Jisung and Minho, who you realize are now both staring at you suspiciously. 

“Ignore them,” Chan chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder to guide you outside the door. 

The wind has picked up a little but it’s still not cold. You keep your hands in the pockets of your jacket, walking alongside Chan, who looks up at the now pitch black sky. There’s not much to see up there except the deep darkness - but perhaps Chan sees something you don’t. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You walk for a minute or two, heading away from the busy street into a nearby residential neighborhood. It’s packed with huge houses, large lawns, neatly kept trees looming over your heads. Once in a while you feel a drop of rain fall on your head or your shoulders, but you don’t mind. 

“I’m just coming back from San’s,” you tell Chan, breaking the silence. You know he was waiting for you to speak first - giving you the time to find your words. 

He glances at you, looking concerned. “Oh?” 

“I felt we needed to have a conversation,” you nod. “I did a lot of thinking since the party and I just wanted him to know how I felt.” 

Chan breathes out. “How did it go?” 

“Good,” you smile. “I told him I missed him too.” You give Chan a look, but he’s staring ahead of him, lips closed, his hands behind his back. “But that it is over between him and me.”

Chan looks at you then. Is that pride in his eyes? 

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” you breathe. “That night at the party. And recently, not answering your calls. I just… I really needed to think.” 

“I know, love,” he says. The nickname tugs at your heart. You can’t ever get tired of hearing him call you that. “I never held it against you.” 

“And then I didn’t really talk to you, and -” 

“You needed to figure things out,” Chan softly interrupts. “You don’t have to apologize for that. You shouldn’t, even.” 

“But still. Things were good between us, and I’m scared I ruined everything,” you finally admit with a shrug, looking down at your feet.

Chan stops, taking you gently by the arm so you face him. He’s smiling, full lips curved upwards, his black clothes looking so cozy you wish you could cuddle up against him. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he frowns. “I mean, I don’t want to assume that there was anything between us, or that you have to -” 

“I like you.” It’s your turn to interrupt him. “I like you a lot, Chan.” 

He looks at you, and you let yourself get lost in his eyes. 

“You make me feel safe, and I have fun with you, and you get me. And if it’s something you want too, then I’d like to see where this could get us.” 

It feels good to let it off your chest - but it’s also much easier than you would have thought. You really mean it, you realize. Every word. Exploring a future with Chan is something you want, something your heart feels at peace about. 

You realize he still hasn’t spoken - but you’re not defeated by it. You just keep looking at him, smiling gently. 

“Please don’t feel like you have to answer now,” you whisper. 

He shakes his head and speaks in a whisper. “I’m just taking it in.” 

“What?” 

“You, telling me you like me back.” 

You blink in slight disbelief, letting out a laugh. You push your index against his chest. “You’re such a romantic, Bang Chan.” 

“Yeah, I am,” he laughs wholeheartedly, bringing you into his arms. You settle your cheek against his chest, your arms around him. He places a kiss on your hair, nodding to himself. “You better get used to it.” 

You stay like this for a minute, just breathing each other in, the wind swaying around you. You’re in Chan’s arms. He breathes alongside you. Your heart feels calm. Your heart feels free. 

“You know what I feel about you. It hasn’t changed. So can I take you on a real date now?” he asks, his fingers sliding in your hair, sending shivers through your entire body. 

You nod. “On one condition.” 

He leans back, finding your eyes. “Hm?” 

“Kiss me,” you breathe. 

He just grins, light shining in his eyes. His lips meet yours, delicately and lovingly, as if he wants to savor every second. You can believe it, because it’s the same for you. It’s a slow kiss, the kind that lasts for a lifetime, the kind you can’t ever forget. He tastes like trust, like the softest light, like rain that falls exactly at the right time.

You kiss for a long time, until your lips feel swollen, until your mouth is dry. Chan pushes his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek.

“How about we go home and get you warm?” 

You look up at him, your eyes twinkling in adoration. “Will you keep holding me?” 

He smiles. “I’ll never let go.”

Chan and you find the front door locked. He unlocks it, stepping inside an empty apartment. The bottles and snacks are still on the table, but the television is turned off and Jisung and Minho are nowhere to be seen. 

You remove your shoes, following Chan in the kitchen, where you find a note scribbled onto an old take out receipt. Out for drinks. Enjoy the empty apartment. 

Chan chuckles. “I guess they know.” 

You smile, wrapping your arms around Chan from behind. “I think Ji’s had his suspicions since I brought you soup.” 

“That was good soup.” 

He turns around, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. Your hips almost meet his, making you feel a little dizzy. You place your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to slide them under his hoodie to feel his skin. 

“So…” you smile. 

“So,” he repeats with a chuckle. “What do you want to do?”  

You bite your lip, blushing slightly. 

“You want to… enjoy the empty apartment?” Chan suggests. You like his confidence, although you notice that his ears are bright red. 

You nod, stealing him a kiss. “I just want you.” 

He hums against your lips, his fingers digging into your skin. You take another step forward, decidedly pushing your hips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Chan tilts his head, his mouth seeking yours, and you can feel him parting your lips slowly. He doesn’t want to insist, but you let him, your tongue meeting his. Instinctively you arch your back, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. 

“I’ve been craving you so much,” Chan whispers. “I just want to feel you around me again.” 

You clench at his words, letting out a small moan that gets lost in his mouth. “Fuck, Chan…” 

“I want to make you feel good,” he breathes, kissing you again, and you can feel his length harden against your stomach. “Will you let me, love?” 

“Please touch me, Chan, I missed you so much…”

Just like that, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He starts to walk, never ceasing to kiss you, as he brings you to his bedroom. Once you’re there, he pushes the door closed, and lays you down carefully on the mattress. He’s warm, his muscular thighs pushing yours apart so he can settle between them. Leaning down to kiss you again, your head falling against the pillow, he grinds his crotch against you - and you can feel your walls throb. 

There are too many layers of clothing to your liking, so you tug at his hoodie and Chan understands the signal. He removes it and his t-shirt in one movement, letting you touch his chest freely. His jeans hang low on his waist, so you trace his abdominal muscles, let your fingers wander on his back. 

Your clothes are next, Chan kissing you all the while he removes them. Soon you are naked under him, one of Chan’s hands holding your breasts, brushing the back of his thumb on the nipple. You shudder, Chan leaning down to swirl his tongue around it, sending waves of pleasure through you.

But there’s something you want. Something that you’ve wanted to do, something you’ve been thinking about. “Chan -” 

“Yes, love?” he whispers, coming back to kiss your neck, his tongue leaving wet trails on your skin. 

“I want to taste you,” you breathe, and he looks up to meet your eyes. You stroke his hair, feeling a little shy. “Please, I can’t stop thinking about it…” 

Chan closes his eyes. “Fuck, I almost came just hearing you say that.” 

You both chuckle, sharing a feverish kiss. You sit up, moving positions so that Chan is the one laying down under you. His eyes are darker than ever, his lips swollen from the kissing. You can’t get enough of him, feeling almost drunk as you leave a trail of kisses down his chest, unbuttoning his shorts and lowering them. His cock bounces free, already hard, but you remove his clothes completely before you come back to take it in your hand. Chan sits up a little, leaning against his pillows, and he’s able to look at you. Gently, you palm his length, moving your hand up and down. Your thumb rolls around his tip, spreading the pre-cum there, and Chan grunts at your gesture. 

His fingers hold your hair back, his eyes never leaving your face as you slowly jerk him off, loving the way his cock pulsates around your fingers. In fact you are clenching around nothing, aching for pressure. But for now you want to take care of him - you want to show him just how much he means to you, how eager you are for him. 

You flick your tongue at the tip of his cock and Chan lets out a low groan, pushing his head back into the pillows. You smile softly, wrapping your lips around him, his moans dancing to your ears as you start to bob your head up and down. You suck him slow, teasing him with your tongue at the same time, attentive to the sounds he makes. Sometimes he twitches a little, or his fingers will slightly pull at your hair, and you know you’re doing something good. 

Your fingers leave his base when you try to take him as deep as you can in your mouth, feeling your lips stretch, saliva and pre-cum coating his cock. 

“F-fuck - Y/N - fuck, that feels good…” 

A single hum escapes your lips, but you do not stop blowing him, perhaps taking too much pleasure at feeling him lose composure. His hips buck, and you do not stop. You join the movement of your hand twisting around his base with your mouth, and Chan’s grip on your hair tightens.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck - ah, don’t - ah, Y/N, stop,” he whimpers, and you move your head back, looking up at him with wide eyes. Chan takes a second to breathe out, and you feel his cock throbbing in your hand. “I’m going to come if you keep going,” he chuckles. “I want this to last.” 

You smile, crawling back up on the bed for a kiss, straddling him. “Was it good?” 

“So good, love,” he grins, kissing you. “So, so good.” 

You settle your drenched core against his cock, rubbing it up and down the length, moaning in response. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispers against your ear, licking it gently. You whimper, desperate for touch. “Can I fuck you now, love?” 

“Yes, please,” you moan. 

Chan is quick to grab a condom from his bedside table, wrapping it around his length before he guides it against your entrance. Slowly, you push yourself down, his cock stretching you. You close your eyes at the feeling, the pleasure making you dizzy. Chan pulls your upper body closer to his, playing with your breasts as he starts to thrusts his pelvis, entering you deeper each time. You roll your hips, finding a rhythm quickly. 

It feels so good to have him close, so good to let yourself go. Your heavy breathing mixes with his, touching his chest as he fucks you, and you’re both lost in the moment, not exchanging a word. He enters you deeply, his thrusts both gentle and passionate. It is not quick, but steady, every movement measured. 

You fuck like that for a while, just breathing and moving with each other, until your pleasure starts to ramp up. You are clenching around Chan, who grunts in your ear, and he holds your waist, anchoring himself there to accelerate his thrusts. He’s fucking you harder, and you cry out his name as you come. He follows you quickly in his release, breathing your name, making you feel whole like only he can. 

Both you and Chan breathe out, bodies slightly swaying like in a storm, holding each other tight. His arms around you, your fingers on his skin. 

Lifelines. 

After a little while he kisses your neck, your cheek, your lips. You sigh because you don’t want to move, although you know you have to. 

“My love,” he whispers. “How about a shower and some food, just the two of us?” 

You smile, leaning back to kiss his nose. “Just you and me?” 

He nods. “Just you and me.” 

That’s all you need.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let the taste linger on your tongue. Just enough sweetness, hints of bitterness, the perfect balance. You’ve never eaten something that good, you’re almost sure of it. Chan, who is sitting in front of you, lets out a chuckle.

“That good, huh?” 

You let out a soft moan. “Best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.” 

Chan grins. “I know something that tastes better.” 

You push his leg under the table playfully and he chuckles, shaking his head, both embarrassed and amused by his dirty joke. You can’t stop looking at him. He looks so handsome in his fitted black shirt, just one button undone, a slim silver chain around his neck. When he showed up at your door wearing that, fitted black trousers and leather shoes, you almost pulled him into your apartment and abandoned the idea of going to the restaurant. But Chan had also been holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his eyes sparkling with joy, and that made your heart dance in different ways. 

“Pardon my French, but you look fucking gorgeous,” he had said, leaning in for a kiss. 

You had hugged him, giggling like a teenager as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, his other hand touching the fabric of your black dress, exploring the way it hugged your body. You had to push him away and take the flowers from him - if you let yourself go against his embrace you knew you would never make it to the restaurant on time. 

Chan had made a reservation at a fancy place, not at all your usual style, but he had once gone with family and had loved the food, so he wanted you to taste it too. 

When you leave the restaurant, your belly is full, your heart content, your soul even more. You stop when you cross the door, however. While you were inside it started to rain. It’s not a drizzle - it’s heavy, cold rain, falling down straight and hard on the ground. 

“Damn,” you let out, glancing at Chan. “Should we wait it out, or…?” 

Something sparkles in his eyes, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to understand what he is thinking about. You let out a nervous giggle, giving him a single nod.

Chan takes your hand and the both of you dash into the rain. You let out a scream because the rain is cold, but you don’t stop. You and Chan run towards the car, crossing the parking lot as fast as you can. He doesn’t let go of your hand. 

You run fast, it feels like you have wings.

And yet, it’s like time slows down. 

You glance at Chan, his eyes disappear in crescents, his laugh the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You can’t help it - you stop, pull on his hand and draw his body towards you. 

Under the falling rain you kiss. 

He kisses you back, his lips hungry and smooth. 

You slide an arm around his waist, and slowly, you start dancing. 

Chan bursts in laughter against your lips. He draws back, looking at you with tenderness spilling out his eyes, and joins you in the dance. For a minute or two, you dance under the rain. You turn, swirl, sway. You can’t stop laughing. 

You kiss again, and the rain starts falling harder on your heads, and even then you do not stop.

— the end.

Well, hello ♡ Believe me, posting was a surprise for me as well! But I found myself missing writing, missing sharing my writing with you, missing this. So here is the sequel that I once talked about, that has been written for a long time! I hope it's not too disappointing. I remember the writing of it very fondly. ♡ Please be kind as I haven't posted in forever haha.

Thank you for sticking around, thank you for reading me. I am so incredibly thankful. I don't think I'll create a taglist for now, so do not ask please ♡ I hope you enjoyed this, and please take care of each other. Love you all ♡♡

[back2bluesidex]

From Within - JJK [Part 2] [Preview]

Pairing: Widowed!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: Angst, pining, eventual fluff, eventual smut, arrange marriage au, bffs to strangers to lovers au. Drabble series.

Summary: When you fell in love with Jungkook, you wished for your life to turn out as one of those clichéd fairytales, where two best friends fall for each other and live happily ever after. But were you lucky enough? Probably not because you had to watch the man taking vows, kissing the love of his life and promising forever right before your eyes. Unfortunately enough, now you are having to witness him breaking down bit by bit standing at his wife's funeral.

Warnings: angst, minor character death, pining, angst, unrequited love, eventual smut. NSFW!!

Patreon Membership Exclusive Drabble Series.

One thing about life that you learnt is that… here uncertainty is the biggest certainty. 

And it’s unfair. 

And the intensity of the unfairness hits you hard when you get a glimpse of Jungkook for the first time in five years.  

The Jungkook you left here was radiant. He shone so bright that your eyes hurt at times, especially whenever he had Mido by his side. 

And the Jungkook you are witnessing right now looks like someone whose heart has been ripped off of his chest. 

His eyes are nowhere to be found, dark hair protecting those from everyone. His cheeks have sunken inside his skull. His lips are so chapped, so dry that those have almost camouflaged with his pale skin. 

He doesn’t see you. 

And you doubt if he has seen anyone at all. 

He stands there with his gloved-hands clasped in front, robotically bowing to everyone who is coming to pay respect. 

“I can’t- I can’t do this Tae. I just-” your voice trembles as you realize you don’t have the courage to walk up to him and pay respect to his dead wife after all these years of radio silence. What would that make you? A hypocrite.  

“You don’t have to.” Taehyung places a hand on your shoulder, “but make sure to see him once, okay?”

You nod. 

“Y/N! Is that you?” A familiar voice comes from behind. It’s Mrs. Jeon, someone you have always placed right after your own mother.

She walks up to you and holds you onto her embrace, sobbing quietly. 

When you look up from her shoulder, your eyes meet Jungkook’s reddened ones. 

Read the full chapter on Patreon.

[speakofthedebbie]

by popular demand (re: one person) some radioapple fic recs!! (i hope thats what you meant lol most of the fics i read are just radioapple)

Bedtime Rituals to Try out Before the Next Angelic War by @miribalis

just yes. thousand times yes. so basically my boy luci has some sleep troubles and that somehow leads to a qpr with al look its been a while ok just read it

Managerial Liberties by the same fella

these two tags explain it pretty well

something that sticks out to me about this is that charlie is actually (reasonably) cold to adam and like. im actually surprised with how little ive seen that. i mean i dont think id be exactly buddy-buddy with my besties killer either. only 3 chaps as of writing but already looking to be a radioapple classic

im not sure if its meant to be read as such but it kinda feels like a squeal to bedtime rituals in a way (edit: not meant to be read as such, just the same vibe)

devils don't fly (don't expect me not to fall) by @corgiss

also just yes. basically a really not cool joke evolves into a blossoming romance because why wouldnt it. (man if i had a nickel for every radioapple fic that had a masquerade that was sabotaged by the vees- *gets shot bc i cant mention osas yet*)

i’ll hold you close (i’ll stay the course) by the same fella

the entire time i was just going "yas king! put that egotistical flatscreen in his place!!". basically luci reminds the overlords who he is and vox shows he can be more of a threat than he lets on.

ykw fuck it just the entire series (i didnt mention i would give anything to not give a shit (but i do) and my perfect rock bottom (my beautiful trauma) because the first one sounded a lil too angsty and ive gotten enough of that from other sources [pointedly glares at Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love {also coming up later!}] and the second is (mostly) smut and ive been trying to step back from that because "ive seen worse" isnt a valid excuse for that torture actually)

Of Saints and Sinners by the forever amazing @morningstarwrites!! (if you see this i have a serious question: is this your first time ever writing a fic? because how do you get so much right the first time- [not even beginners luck could explain this level of skill])

i could sing its praises until my death bed but ill hold off so i can explain whats happening. basically after burning down a meeting room several times, luci and al make a deal ("not a deal!", luci laments to the void): they will attempt to be civil and maybe even friendly, and by the end luci will owe al a favour. whats the favour? read it yourself dammit! seriously, 10/10, i am foaming at the mouth till friday (depending on how this goes, that might be tomorrow or today)

Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love by Starlit_Rainfall (no tumblr in sight, so AO3) (i. urgfgh. what happened. i was just smiling over the fluff while crossing to go to school. where did it go. where did it gooooo)

if thats anything to go by, the last few chapters have been rough. the fluff feels so far away that i cant even explain what happens. luci was waxing poetic about swimming in maple syrup for al, i remember that much. also emily is there (fallen) tho we havent seen her in a sec. if you read it, warning for the gut punch of angst that starts chap 32 "She/Her" (though the chapter before that, "Should Alastor Know By Now?" ends pretty rough too)

Freely We Serve by @romanaxe

i dont remember how i managed to stumble upon this but im having a great time. basically alastor is a new sinner fresh in hell (but time doesnt matter and the whole cast is still here) and thinks "what better way to gain power than be the personal assistant of the heartbroken king of hell!" features a 6(?) year old charlie and a morally dubious lilith (also i loved eepy al X3)

A Family Forged in Hellfire by Green_Ghostwriter (once again, no Tumblr, so AO3)

this ones a bit newer (10 chaps), is so far mostly exposition and the slowburn pot hasnt even been put on the stove, but as just a hazbin fic in general i see the potential. basically its a 1920s au where heaven decides little charlie doesnt deserve to be raised in hell and is sent to earth with a "foster" family where her actions in life will determine witch realm she will return to after death. her "parents", al and minzy, are given false memories so they can claim the girl as their own and gee i wasnt kidding when i said it was a lot of exposition. erm honestly explaining anymore would tech be spoiling so go read it!

The Red Thread That Binds Us by @scun-gilli

{{future me prefacing this by saying i have no idea where i was going with yesterdays thought process, all you need to know from it was im on chapter 27. also scungilli your comment is making me very worried 😟 well theres no mcd tag so im sure itll fine, right? RIGHT, SCUNGILLI??}}

basically its a king x kings guard au where al and luci grow up together and only grow closer after a. certain life event for al (its fine guys trust :)) [she said, like a liar]) then al is sent of for royal guard training school (ik its not called that i forgor 😭) but dw he comes back. just watch out for graphic depictions of injuries (i think thats this fic) angst and a sneaky eve bc radioapple fics are allergic to happiness (or maybe im not looking hard enough lol) (also im really tempted to make the friendship bracelets they had 👀)

somewhere down the line by kj_crwm (AO3 link)

this one starts off as human!alastor/lucifer but by the middle(?) its just regular radioapple. basically al is encountered by luci while finishing off a job who agrees to keep quiet. luci just keeps on showing up, reveals hes the devil to which al us just like "lol ok" and eventually they get in a relationship (ooh lala 👀) but they break up after saying some hurtful things to each other (oh nono 👀) with luci promising al they will never cross paths again. if you watched the show then well. you know that doesnt happen 😂 most human!al radioapple have al summon him (no hate to them) so this was an interesting change of pace

cannot stress it enough but this is a WORKING list i WILL be coming back to it bc these are purely the fics i could think if off the top of my head. IN FACT, if any of you have radioapple fics you love, SEND THEM THE FUCK IN! i am one person whos only been in this fandom for 4 months, and reading fics/shipping radioapple even less, theres bound to be some ones i missed that you think are Worthy™️! and if theyre nsfw then at the very least it shouldnt be the main focus

EDIT: so sorry anyone who reblogged this before had to see the disgusting unedited version. literally just found out that tumblr doesnt apply edits to reblogs. what the fuck

[layla4567]

OPLA (Monster trio) WILD WEST AU

The hat rule (nsfw drabbles, fem): Sanji, Luffy, Zoro

Warnings: well smut, p in v sex, suggestive (the smut is just at the end), everyone is of legal age, beta read, I don't know much about cowboys or the wild west so don't expect this to be very accurate.

wc: sanji- 1.606, zoro- 1.583. luffy- 1.917

Zoro

You entered the saloon with your chaps on well and a red scarf around your neck. Upon entering the double door collided with the walls and the noise caught the attention of those present. A boy with green hair hidden in his beige hat was sitting at the bar drinking beer, he turned his head and when he saw you a frown crossed his forehead and he wrinkled it slightly. You were Zoro's declared enemy since you were the daughter of a famous rival gunman of the green-haired man's father. You rejoiced at the looks of fear and respect that were directed at you, you looked everywhere analyzing the local people until your eyes met Zoro's, at which point he rolled his eyes and looked away. You were thinking of having fun today and that consisted of making the cowboy angry, so you confidently walked towards the bar and sat down next to him. He ran you up and down with a raised eyebrow.

"Hello pretty boy, did you miss me?"

In response he snorted and drank his beer, ignoring you.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I see that you are still a man of few words as always."

“What do you want Y/N?” He finally said, looking at you a little upset.

"Aww don't pretend you're not happy to see me Zoro, it's adorable"

Zoro rolled his eyes again in annoyance and your smile widened, you loved making him angry.

"And apparently you're still as irritating and talkative as always, or am I wrong? Look, if you don't mind, I'd rather be alone and keep drinking, I don't want to fight."

"Ooo the cat took out his claws" You said raising your hands in surrender without stopping smiling "Easy cowboy, I just wanted to chat with you"

"And what made you think that I want to talk to you?"

You rested your elbow on the table, approaching him and put your chin in your fist "Well, I think you'll want to talk to me when I tell you what I heard out there…"

Zoro still wasn't paying attention to you so you decided to double the bet.

"About you..."

This seemed to pique the cowboy's curiosity because he stopped drinking and stood still holding the glass suspended in the air. You smiled from ear to ear

"I'm not interested, they must be rumors anyway" he said downplaying it

"Mmmh okay, but then don't say I didn't warn you when they call you chicken"

You stood up from your seat to leave when a hand grabbed you firmly and quickly by the arm. You jumped a little but then looked at him trying to hide your smile. Zoro's look was more serious than usual.

"What's that chicken thing, huh?"

You sat back down, raising an eyebrow mischievously. "Oh nothing, it's just that people comment that I'm not only a better gunfighter than you, but I'm also a better horseback rider, and that you are a chicken for not daring to challenge me"

Zoro's hand squeezed the glass until his fingers turned white. Your satisfied face said it all, you had set a trap for him and he had fallen like a rabbit. Zoro pretended to look at the contents of his glass.

"For me, let them say what they want.."

"Oh, are you sure? Because I think they're right. Now that I remember, you've never challenged me to a horse race."

The green-haired man closed his eyes and pursed his lips, he was trying with all his might to control his frustration. Then, as if nothing had happened, he opened his eyes and raised one corner of his lips in a small smile.

"If I haven't done that before it's because I know I'm guaranteed victory." he said looking at you

You shrugged your shoulders. "That's what those who don't dare to lose always say. Anyway, it's a shame, I think you'll have to get used to the nickname."

Now you got up from your seat without him stopping you. You turned your back to him and although you couldn't see him you felt his eyes on you. You were heading towards the exit when his voice called you.

"Wait, not so fast"

You turned around and saw Zoro stood up and walked towards you. His walk was similar to that of a hunched and angry gorilla. When he was in front of you he gave you a look cold as steel.

"How do I know you don't say those things just to make me angry?"

You giggled. “Oh so it really bothers you? Is your ego so fragile?”

The other people gathered in the saloon were now paying attention to their conversation, some soft laughter and murmurs could be heard. People smelled the fight and now they didn't want to miss anything. Zoro looked around now without hiding his discomfort. You decided to play with him a little although you knew you were taking too much risk. Zoro wasn't stupid and he was really good with a gun (although you would never tell him that) and if he wanted he could threaten you. But the game had started and it was too late to back out.

"What's wrong? You don't like being called chicken?" You said and then shamelessly imitated the sound of a chicken while you waved your arms pretending to be wings.

The people began to laugh louder while Zoro's frown grew until his gaze darkened.

"Hey, enough is enough"

You didn't obey him and continued making fun of him, laughing while the others looked at you funny. You only stopped when his fingers closed on your arm, firm enough that you couldn't escape but not so tight that it hurt you. The cowboy's face had gotten very close to yours and his eyes fixed on yours were intimidating.

“Y/N I said stop.”

His voice was deep and brooked no reply, your smile faded a little and you became serious. But you wouldn't let him threaten you or make you afraid. Roughly you broke free of his grip and moved closer to him until your noses almost collided.

"Fine, then what are you waiting for? Challenge me to a horse racing duel, and you'll see who wins." you said under your breath, sliding your gaze from one eye to the other.

He tilted his head slightly without flinching. "I won't do that, I already told you."

There was a boo from the crowd and a shout "What are you so afraid of?" But the green-haired boy ignored him, he only looked at you.

"Ok then I'm the best at riding…" You said with a shrug and walking away a little.

"No, I am" he said irritably

You rolled your eyes in frustration, he looked like a 5 year old throwing a tantrum. At this rate neither you nor he would agree. Suddenly you had an idea that will surely leave him speechless. If you couldn't beat him by making him angry, you would beat him by making him nervous. You took a step forward, smiling proudly.

"I'm the best at riding and I'm going to prove it to you" You said, slapping off his cowboy hat and putting it on your head.

The people at the bar gasped, but the best reaction was the one in front of you. Zoro had turned red and swallowed loudly. His face was so deadly serious that you wanted to laugh. You placed your hands on your hips, looking at him victoriously. He noticed your impudence and smiled sideways, hiding his embarrassment. He was also willing to play that game so he approached your ear.

"Are you sure? I can't guarantee your safety, I'm a bit wild"

Now the one who swallowed saliva to calm the confusion was you. You looked into his eyes whose pupils were now dilated. You nodded several times and he smiled walking away. And that was the beginning of everything, it will be a long night, you thought.

Just as you predicted that night in your bed Zoro was sitting up and you were straddling him. The green-haired boy hungrily kissed your neck, causing the temperature to rise.

"Zoro～ ohh.."

He smiled against the skin of your neck. "We haven't even started and you're already melting like butter in the sun."

As best you could, you grabbed the hat that was resting on the mattress and put it on your head. "We'll see who melts first."

You grabbed onto Zoro's shoulders and began to move your hips back and forth, making the cowboy grab your waist tightly, digging his fingers into it. You let out a moan as you felt his hand squeeze your flesh. His face was in the crook of your neck near your shoulder, that way he muffled his gasps and moans.

"Keep it up, ngh d-don't stop" he gasped against your shoulder

But it was difficult. Zoro wasn't lying when he said he was wild. His fingers on your skin would surely leave a red mark the next day. And from time to time he moved his own pelvis upwards to sink you deeper into him. Your nails dug into their shoulders and their torsos were beaded with sweat. But at no point did you stop or drop your hat. In the end they both collapsed exhausted on top of each other. It seems like there were no winners or losers this time, but Zoro's satisfied moans and sweaty face were your consolation prize.

Sanji

Sanji was outside the saloon taking care of his horse. With one hand he groomed the animal's head while with the other he brushed its back. His fingers traced soft scribbles on the horse's skin. You were waiting from afar for your father to finish unloading the suitcases full of clothes and belongings from the carriage, and you took the opportunity to see the cute cowboy. Almost without wanting to, you started playing with your braid, wrapping it around your finger. The blonde boy was focused on taking care of his horse but he was not stupid and he felt a look of intense eyes on the back of his neck. When he turned to see you, you looked away, biting your lower lip in embarrassment. For his part, Sanji just smiled amused and returned to his task.

You turned to see your father struggling with the luggage, you thought it would take him a while to get all the suitcases out so, nervously wrinkling the hem of your dress, you headed towards where the blue-eyed cowboy was.

"*clears throat* Good afternoon, sir."

The cowboy with a bright smile and tender gaze turned his head to see you and found a little girl with a sweet and affable look. Soon he couldn't help but let his gaze slide over your figure. Your tight skirt and corset marked your best attributes.

"Well, well, good afternoon to you missus"

His voice was even better than you imagined, syrupy like honey and soft like a feather pillow. Suddenly your legs felt a little weak.

"What's a cute little princess like you doing talking to a cowboy like me?"

You swore that your cheeks began to color and to hide it you covered your mouth slightly with your fingers and smiled while you looked at his horse. Would he always talk like that to all the women he saw? Sanji knew he had hit the nail on the head so he kept looking at you with that flirtatious smile of his.

"Umm, I just wanted to admire your horse more closely, if you don't mind, gentleman"

"Oh, so you're attracted to horses?"

"Very, sir. I always wanted to learn how to ride one."

The blonde cowboy laughed at your good manners.

"Please, my name is Sanji. And you must have a name too..."

"I'm Y/N"

You held out your hand to him and he kissed it gently on the knuckles. His lips against your skin tickled your lower belly.

"If you want, I can teach you how to ride Crystal," he said, stroking the horse's mane.

"Oh, Crystal? That's her name? it's adorable!" you said smiling pleased and caressing the animal

Sanji couldn't stop looking at you and smiling, you seemed cute to him.

"So? What do you say Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to ride?"

You were about to answer yes with a big smile but suddenly your father screamed calling your name, he seemed upset. You turned around and saw that he was walking towards you, clenching his fists.

"I'm sorry but I can't now, maybe another day-..!"

Your voice sounded disappointed but you couldn't say anything else because your father had already reached you and grabbed your wrist to pull you away from Sanji. The blonde boy watched with some annoyance and disappointment as you left, but not for you but for your father who didn't think it was right that he dragged you like that just because you had moved a few meters away from him. And it made him even more angry when he heard the exclamations he threw at you "Y/N, what did I tell you about talking to strangers?! Those filthy cowboys only flirt with girls and then leave them stranded!" The days passed without Sanji hearing from you until one day he had taken a walk in the countryside and saw you there alone and looking at the forget-me-not flowers and then collecting some. He got off Crystal and approached you, when you turned around you had a big smile that made his heart melt.

"Hello princess, have you decided to ride Crystal yet?"

You blushed to the roots of your hair and said shyly "I'm not a princess.."

Sanji loved to make you nervous "Really? But you do have a very pretty face, a sweet voice and good manners. Yes, I think you are one…at least for me"

You lowered your head, trying not to look at his perfect smile that seemed to mock you. "T-thank you, but you're right, I want you to teach me how to ride."

The blonde boy smiled satisfied and took you by the hand to get you closer to the horse. "You'll see, you'll learn quickly. Crystal may seem intimidating at first but she's a good girl."

The warmth of his hand sent shivers down your spine, you tried to hide it as best as possible, smiling confidently. Suddenly Sanji grabbed you by the waist firmly to sit on the horse, in surprise you let out a moan that made the blue-eyed boy laugh. Already on top of the honey-colored horse, Sanji told you to find a comfortable but upright position, he guided your hands towards the reins of the animal and told you to hold them firmly but without pulling. After several more explanations to which you listened attentively and looked at her beautiful dreamy eyes trying not to drool, Crystal began to walk. Sanji was at your side all the time with one hand on the horse's back to give you courage. After you had mastered Crystal, she began to trot until you were riding faster. After walking around a few times you came to Sanji who was applauding you happily.

"Bravo doll, that was perfect. You have a natural talent" He said grabbing your waist to make you get off the horse, completely ignoring your rosy cheeks.

"Well, give Crystal credit, she was very good to me" you timidly tucked a strand behind your ear.

"Oh and you're also modest, how adorable."

Damn, why was he flirting with you so much? Did I do it on purpose? It was making you nervous and making something grow in your belly that you didn't want to find out what it was. When you saw him again he was staring at you biting his lip with a smile, oh so he did it on purpose. Hiding your embarrassment you directed your gaze towards his brown hat.

"I like your hat, it's pretty" you pointed your finger

He took it out and looked at it "This one? Really? Oh but it's quite old… do you want to see it?"

You nodded excitedly and grabbed the hat in your hands. It was a little big and the fabric was worn on one side. You happily made a gesture to put it on your head when Sanji interrupted you, smiling mischievously.

"What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to try it on"

He laughed shaking his head "I wouldn't do that if I were you…"

You frowned in confusion, you didn't understand why he was laughing. "Why not? What's so funny?"

"So you don't know the hat rule?" Sanji said, coming a little closer to you, with slow steps.

You shook your head, somewhat intimidated, you felt that this rule was something important…or something that would humiliate you.

He laughed at your confusion "Then it's better that you don't know, forget it."

You put your hands on your hips in frustration. "Oh come on! Tell me, I want to know!"

The blonde cowboy leaned close to your ear and whispered "Wear the hat, ride the cowboy."

Sanji moved a little away from you just in time to see your eyes looking down and your face turning red. You didn't expect it to be something like this, with an innocent mind you could say that you had never been intimate with someone like that. But Sanji really seemed attractive to you, what if this was the time to complete something you had been thinking and feeling for a while? Somewhat hesitantly, you slowly placed your hat on until the brim covered your eyes. Sanji looked at you surprised and now he was the one feeling a little nervous and blushing. Even so, he smiled confidently again and took your chin to lift it and see your eyes that were covered by the hat.

"It seems that you are not as shy as I thought, Missus." he purred

That night without your father knowing, Sanji invited you to his house, he was so considerate and kind to you, he made sure that you were comfortable at all times and calmed you down when you didn't feel safe doing so.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to, sweetheart" He told you compassionately

In response, you held the hat with one hand and leaned over Sanji's body to kiss him lovingly.

"I'll be fine, do not worry"

You settled your pelvis above his. From his position Sanji enjoyed the view of your body bouncing on top of his and how your eyes turned white as you held the hat with one hand and with the other you touched his well-formed abs.

"Ohh～you feel so good..." The words slipped out of your mouth like pomaded butter.

"That's it, gorgeous. You're doing incredible"

The blonde couldn't stop praising you and guiding your movements by holding your thighs and raising his pelvis. And your moans of pleasure and satisfaction were his best reward. Without knowing it, he had not only taught you how to ride a horse…

Luffy

Luffy was in the tavern sitting at a table playing poker, although he tried to keep his face serious in his mind he was celebrating and jumping since he had been dealt a good hand of cards. Sitting in front of him was you, you weren't that good at hiding your facial expressions as you were frowning slightly because you didn't have such good cards. From time to time Luffy looked at you and smiled, he knew you were about to lose. The brat would even stretch out his arm to tickle you or push you with his foot under the table making you laugh. After a couple of minutes Luffy put his cards on the table, being the clear winner. You pouted and threw your cards on the table in anger. The boy, laughing mischievously, grabbed his chips and his prize, happy. You crossed your arms around your eyes and smiled. Since you were children you could never beat Luffy, you were inseparable friends and he had taught you how to play and in turn Shanks had taught Luffy how to play.

Luffy stood up from the table with his bottle of sarsaparilla and his dried meat. A smile crossed his face from ear to ear, he looked like a child. You looked at him and laughed happily, it was impossible to get angry with him, you loved him so much. Luffy approached you with his food.

"I promise to share my food with you… at least a little"

You laughed, patting his shoulder, if something characterized the brown-haired boy it was his gluttony. You grabbed the bottle and bringing it to your lips, you took a few sips while he looked at you. When you finished you sighed contentedly and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Hey, what do you say we go shooting practice?" You said giving him the bottle back.

He chuckled. "You mean YOU practice shooting."

You laughed. It was true, he didn't know how to use the gun very well but you always offered to teach him, but he preferred to see you and that's it (and if he could eat while looking at you, the better)

"Ok little cowboy, you'll watch me practice and you can also bring your food" You said pointing to the bottle and the beef jerky.

He smiled from ear to ear and gave a small shake of happiness. He hugged the meat and the bottle of sarsaparilla and followed you like a puppy towards the exit. They both rode until they reached an open field where only dry, yellow grass could be seen and a few oak trees casting shade. On one side there was a wooden board with a few bottles ready to shoot, you always went to that place to practice. You two got off the horse, leaving them tied to a nearby tree. You stood a few meters away from the bottles and Luffy stood next to you adjusting his black hat. You took out your gun and while the boy put a dried meat in his mouth, looking at you, you smiled and looked at the first bottle, winking. The first shot had been successful, the bottle had shattered as Luffy looked from you to the bottle in amazement and admiration while still chewing. With the other subsequent bottles it had been the same, just a little concentration on your part and the bottles would fall into pieces. Only one was missing

“Wow Y/N you are so good at this!!”

I smiled warmly, thanking him for the compliment. Suddenly you looked at the last bottle and when you were about to shoot you changed your mind and looked at your friend who was looking at you expectantly.

"How about I teach you how to break that bottle, huh?"

He looked at you doubtfully thinking about an answer, before he responded you said "Don't worry, it's easier than it seems, I'll help you."

Luffy looked at the bottle for a while and then looked at you "Okay, if you say it's easy, I'll do it" He said smiling.

Smiling, you offered to take care of his food and gave him the gun. You placed your hand over hers to guide her fingers and lock them over the trigger. At the slightest touch of yours on his skin, Luffy smiled widely and stared at you while you dedicated yourself to explaining the movements he had to do to avoid missing the shot. When you finally looked at him you found his gaze penetrating yours and you blushed slightly.

"Alright I hope you understood, come on shoot the bottle" You cleared your throat nervously.

The cowboy nodded and winking while sticking out his tongue in concentration, he pointed the gun and fired. The shot wasn't perfect but he managed to break the glass bottle that fell to the ground. You brought your hand to your mouth shouting and cheering him on.

"See? I told you you'd do it right!"

He blushed with joy and smiled "Well that's just because I have a good teacher."

You rolled your eyes in amusement and gave him a gentle, loving blow to the jaw with your fist. He laughed and suddenly hugged you tightly and spun you around lifting you into the air. You opened your mouth in surprise, squealing and laughing happily. So you spent a long time playing and chasing each other like cats and dogs, playing hide-and-seek or tickling each other, until the sun went down over the horizon and it became dark.

"How about we go to my house? It's too late to go to yours, and we can have dinner too if you want"

You laughed thinking that he was always eating, but he was right. Your house was further away from his so you nodded and riding away from the place. Along the way they were chatting happily and commenting on childhood anecdotes. When you arrived at Luffy's ranch you saw that there was a light on, he lived alone but he always left a light on just in case. You both entered, the interior was cozy, there wasn't much but it was comfortable, it had just what was necessary. Luffy put his food on a table and you took off your jacket to place it on a nearby coat rack. As you did so you couldn't help but admire a painting that had hung on the wall. It was a passage where you could see a cliff and a river. Everything had a perspective from the heights and distance, in the background a beautiful sunset full of purple and pink colors.

"It's pretty, isn't it?"

You gave a little scream and jumped in place when you heard Luffy's voice so close to you. When you turned your head the brown haired boy was standing right behind you, so close that he could almost put his chin on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The painting, is pretty, isn't it? I won it at an auction. I don't know who painted it and I don't know much about art but I liked this one."

While he was talking he looked at the painting and you couldn't help but see his brown eyes, they seemed prettier than you remembered. When he finished speaking he looked you in the eyes with his typical happy smile. Oh, you felt like the world around you was freezing and only you two mattered. You stayed like that for a few seconds until you found the courage to turn around and face him completely.

"Yeah I, uh..!"

You couldn't finish your sentence because when you went to take a step your foot got tangled in the leg of the coat rack and you tripped and fell on top of Luffy. The blow was so strong that he ended up with his back to the floor and you on top of him with your cheek on his chest. Luffy began to giggle softly that grew until it ended in laughter, you raised your head embarrassed and confused while he looked at you laughing. You frowned and blushed heavily. He touched your cheek with a finger.

"You look like a red apple, you look cute like that" he said laughing

You looked away embarrassed, Luffy made fun of everyone in a friendly way and sometimes said things innocently without bad intentions. But your shame was so much that you became angry at his words. You were going to respond with a mild rudeness when he opened his mouth before you.

"But I think you're missing something…" And then he took off his cowboy hat to put it on. "There! Now you look like a cowboy apple!" He said smiling and laughing innocently

Oh no. Didn't he know? It seemed not. Was he so naive as not to know the hat rule? Luffy thought his action was innocent and happy, he didn't mean anything bad by placing his hat on you but you knew that meant something else and now he really wanted the earth to swallow you.

"Uhh Luffy? Do you even know what the hat rule is?" You asked cautiously, controlling your nervousness.

He frowned in confusion and then his face changed in a few seconds to one of raised eyebrows and wild eyes. He quickly walked away from you and sat on the ground a short distance from you.

"OH NO NO NO, I'M SORRY I DIDN'T REMEMBER IT!!!"

He covered his hands a little embarrassed while you smiled shyly. It made you laugh that he was more embarrassed than you. At least he knew what it meant after all. You crawled closer to him slowly and removed his hands from his face, looking at him amused, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to which he looked at you surprised, who was the red apple now?

"We don't have to if you don't want to-"

In response Luffy gave you a kiss on the lips. It was fast and tender but that was the beginning of everything. Later, at night in his room, Luffy was lying face up on his bed and you were straddling him, leaning over and kissing him while you grabbed his cheeks. You asked him if he was ready and he nodded several times, quite excited you could say. You stood up and he placed his hands on your butt, squeezing and kneading your buttocks as if you were sourdough and he was the baker. You gasped in surprise and he smiled. It doesn't matter, you'd give it back. Because when you started bouncing on him, Luffy dissolved into purrs and gasps, he was a mess. You thanked heaven that Luffy lived alone because soon the room and the entire house were filled with moans.

"AhHh Y/N～ keep moving like that…"

The naughty cowboy liked to touch, too much. Now his hands were clinging to your breasts, trying to hold on to something and not crumble like a block of ice in an oven. A couple more bounces, some more moans from there and you two had ended up exhausted. You wrapped an arm around his torso as he circled your shoulders and caressed them. You smiled happily and were about to close your eyes when you suddenly opened them and looked at him worried.

"This won't ruin our friendship, will it?"

He laughed "Of course not, bad apple."

“Oh shut up you whiny brat” You rolled your eyes smiling.

[chvnnie]

Vows

lee minho x reader

word count: 4.1k

genre: smut, and heavy angst — MINORS DNI

warnings: non modern au (1800s author!minho), established relationship, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH - NO DETAILS GIVEN BUT PLEASE USE DISCRETION, fingering, unprotected sex, only minho orgasms, dirty talk. there’s not a happy ending. i think that’s it, but if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

summary: Minho doesn’t know why he can’t seem to beat this writer’s block

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD BECAUSE I AM TOO SAD TO TRY AND EDIT SO DO NOT DRAG ME IF YOU FIND ANY TYPOS. i’m never writing angst again, i cried the entire time i wrote this. and i’m at work. it’s a mess and it hurt but i loved it so. have fun!!!

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents lee minho as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @humayraaaa, @americanokisses, @djeniryuu, @epiphanynaffit - comment/send ask to be added

His hands feel cold as he rubs his face, fingers creeping up to run through his dark locks. In the process, he licks his chapped lips. The winters are already dry enough; really, he should stop before they crack.

But he just can’t help himself. Minho thinks all broken things are beautiful.

With a sigh, he drops his hands. His elbow dings the small ink pot in the process, spilling the black liquid off his writing table. It swirls under the candlelight, landing in heavy puddles on discarded parchment. Typically, the author would hurry to pick up the pot. His money was limited and his practice was expensive; wasting even a little was fatal.

Tonight he sits. Counting the drops as the plop, plop, plop, ruining all of his terrible work. No one will ever know the worlds he’s created and destroyed, the ink making sure to remove them from existence.

Minho is almost jealous of the parchment. What he wouldn’t give to be washed away and made anew, for the burden that being an artist in this life has brought to be returned to the higher powers.

Before he thought it was a blessing. Weaving words to create fantastical lands, to write of unfathomable love. Now, as the candle wax is hitting his wooden table and the ink is running dry, he knows this is a curse.

A walk. A walk might do him well. It could help Minho move the boulder that’s blocking his mind, tapping him dry. Though the hour is well past midnight, it couldn’t hurt to try.

The ankle length coat is heavy on his shoulders, yet he’s grateful. The wind is nippy and is doing nothing to help the dryness of his lips. His tongue rolls over it once again, thankful for the protection it provides. Even if it’s fleeting.

Why can he not get this right? No matter what he scribbles, nothing is making sense. The story he’s made is falling flat, losing its traction as it continues on. It’s a brilliant idea, one that his editor even called a masterpiece. But that’s all it is — an idea. No matter how many times he’s tried to bring it to life, it’s damn near impossible.

What could have happened to it?

Minho walks without really paying attention. He knows the way by now; a left here, down the curved road before you take a right, past the bakery. Every time the golden window comes into view, he stops. Time stops as he looks into the dark store, blinking slowly as snow flutters down and clings to his lashes.

He blinks—

“Minho!” You cry excitedly, your giggle immediately warming his body.

When his eyes open again, the first thing he sees is your bright smile. Smirking, he takes the loaf out of your hand, tearing a bite off the end.

“I’m just saying.” He talks as he chews, turning on his heels in the direction of your shared home. “It would be silly of you to do that.”

“What?” You hike up your lilac colored dress, jogging to catch up to him. He rolls his eyes as you jump in front of him, walking backwards. Many strangers pass, eyes wide and looking at you in disgust, wondering what fool would do this on a busy sidewalk. But the smile on your face doesn’t waver, unaffected by the hurtful whispers of insignificant people. “You don’t think I could bake my own bread?”

“Darling, you can hardly cut an apple.”

“Bread and apples are not the same.” You exclaim, throwing your head back to sigh dramatically. “When you married me, you vowed to always be supportive of me—“

“And I always have been.”

“So, encourage me!” You suddenly stop, putting your hands out to catch Minho before he runs into you. Hands on his jacket, you bunch it up. Pull him close. “Oh, my darling, if that’s what you wish to do. You’ll be wonderful at it!”

Your fingers are so close to his heart, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could feel how quickly it was pounding. There’s something about the way your eyes sparkle when you look at him; wide, full of a life he’s always been envious of. Minho finds it impossible to remember a time before this look of yours.

It started when you were five. Caught up in a tree, crying because you had climbed too high and were too frightened to jump. He remembers the braids you wore, how your hair was falling from them. The tears on your little brown dress from where the branches grabbed the fabric.

Even at a young age, he knew he needed to help. His mother always taught him to help someone in danger. In retrospect, the tree wasn’t that tall. If you fell, the possibility of breaking a bone wouldn’t have been high. Yet it seemed scary, even to the young boy, following your path up it.

“Don’t be scared.” He said to you, reaching his hand out. Shakily, you grab onto it. You squeezed him so tight, his hand began to throb.

Minho knows what it’s like to be scared, and he never would want to leave you alone.

As he returns you to land, you turn to the boy you recognize as your neighbor. Arms flying around his shoulders, tugging him into the tightest hug your little body can give.

And then you pull back, and look at him. The sparkle of life in the depths of your eyes.

He swore you would never be scared and alone again.

It’s hard not to smile, lips pressed together and curling up as he cups your face. “I also vowed to never lie to you.”

With a huff, you pull away from the hug, turning in the appropriate direction this time. “You are the bane of my existence, Lee Minho.”

Now it’s his turn to jog. Catching up to you and gripping your hand to pull you into his side. Despite your wiggles, your faux pout and empty complaints of being exhausted by him, you make no effort to really move. Tucked into his side is the best place, both in reality and fiction, you once told him. The scent of his cologne, the smell of fresh bread and the mint tea he drank earlier. A comfort you always will seek, and one he’s more than joyful to give.

It’s a short walk home; a left and then you’re up the curvy path, walking until you take a right at the bookshop near your home. It’s a quaint little shop, but cozy nonetheless. The door was propped open, smells of cinnamon and leather spilled onto the cobbled road in front of it. Come in, take a seat. Enjoy the writings of authors old and new.

Right in the middle, on a golden stand, sits Minho’s recent work. The yellow cover was your idea — “It piques interest! Come on, do you really want it to be red or blue like all the rest?” The book didn’t need to be published for him to know you were right, but it’s satisfying to see the stacks behind it dwindling. The community enjoying another one of his gorgeous worlds.

“It’s running low.” You hum. “It might be time to mail production, get more copies out.”

“Hm, with what funds? If I recall, you spent it all on poppy muffins not even an hour ago.”

Rightfully, a fist gently collides with his abs. Minho laughs from the impact, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, Min.” You don’t take your eyes off the book. Instead of your trademark beaming smile, you look almost stunned. In total awe. “It’s what you’ve always dreamed of.”

He loops his arm around yours, tugging you away from the window. “It’s not but a hobby. I have greater dreams than that.”

The familiar brick comes into view. A flowerbed in front is home to the brightest plants on the block; daisies, pink flowers that Minho can’t remember the name of, daffodils. There’s even mint for tea, freshly plucked by you (if you can remember). It’s a comfort, a reminder of your love. Of the home you’ve built together.

“Like what?” You fall back in step, letting your husband take the lead so he can get to the door before you. The door swings open, Minho bowing dramatically and you following suit as you pass.

Once the door shut, he began on the buttons of his coat. “Where’s the fun if I tell you?” He teases. When he looks up to see your exasperated expression, it’s only held for a beat before you start to laugh. “I dream of more of this life. Of easy morning walks—“

His eyes open, the cold winter air making his fingers start to numb. It’s time to move again. To continue down this path. This time, he’ll walk straight. Listen for the meows of street cats that always greet him at the block.

Rummaging his deep pocket, Minho finds the little treats he pocketed on his way out. Crouching down, he lets the cats eat from his hand.

“Careful.” He whispers to the biggest one. “Let your friends eat.”

Once he’s sure that they return to the warmth of the home he built for them, Minho starts again. Licks his lips. Takes a right.

And crashes into you, grabbing your hips to help ground himself.

“My love.” You gasp, a hand flying to your chest. Your fingers toy at your necklace, the collision spooking you more than you care to admit. “I didn’t even hear you coming.”

His chest hurts from where your head hit him, flinching slightly as he heartbeat starts to pick up. It’s the first time he’s seen you all day, nose too fair in his journals to pay attention to the outside world.

And wow, is he kicking himself for waiting so long. The yellow dress you’re wearing is perfect for the weather, clutching the roses you picked from the garden to your chest. Seems you kept yourself busy while he worked.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He draws, bending down to catch your lips with his own. “This hallway is just too small for us, isn’t it?”

You smile against him, standing on your toes to steal another kiss. “Maybe, but I’ll never complain about running into you.”

“It’s because you’re not the one with a sore chest.” Finally, he pulls back. “What have you done today?”

“I was busy in the garden.” You adjust the bouquet in your arms, making sure none of the flowers lost their petals. “I wanted to cut the roses before autumn comes.”

Like Minho loses himself in words, you lose yourself in the garden. It’s like you don’t even notice the sun setting some days; fingers too deep in the soil to care about anything surrounding you. The two of you take turns pulling each other out of your little worlds, bringing one another back into existence together.

This crash was a good grounding moment. You both were too far gone.

“They’re lovely.” He says with a smile, delicately stroking the bud of one.

“They were, until you so rudely ran into me and fussed with my bouquet.” You can’t even say it without a bright smile, always delighted to tease your husband. “Watch where you’re walking, Min!”

His eyes roll so far back, he thinks they’ll get lost in his mind. Hands move from your hips to tangle in your hair, pulling you in for a deep kiss. The flowers fall to the floor, and this time the petals come falling off. Scattering the hallway carpet you stand upon.

It’s been too long. Too long since your lips met his, since your body was merged with his own. And it’s only been since this morning.

Maybe too long is an exaggeration, but Minho’s always had a flair for the dramatic.

“Are you planning to go back out?” He mumbles, tongue sweeping against your lips until they part, letting him in.

You whimper as you shake your head, hands on his biceps as you cling for dear life. “Not anymore.”

Oh, how it overjoys the author to hear. Minho walks with you, guiding your bodies to the nearest door before he kicks it open. Though the hallway has seen, and heard, so many parts of you, you deserve more than a stuffy hallway quickie.

It’s a stumble into his office that doesn’t stop until your hips hit his work table. He lets go of you just briefly, sliding the papers, notebooks, quills — all clatter to the ground. The desk sits in front of a window, cracked open just enough to let the summer breeze dance in. It lands on your shoulders, on his face. Ruffles your hair and warms his skin. The fireflies have just started to come out, a few twinkling near the stained glass and lighting it up in beautiful pieces.

Minho cups the back of your head, lowering your body slowly onto the wooden surface. It feels like a dreamlike state as he breaks the kiss, moving himself away from your lips slowly. Your head lays at the edge of the desk, crossing over just a bit onto the windowsill. The breeze makes your hair flutter in strands, the pale light of the fireflies painting your face.

Blue and red. Yellow and green. Pink and orange. Stained glass eyes, bright and full of life, blink up at him. Always happy to see him.

“My darling.” Goosebumps decorate your skin, rising up your neck at the sound of his low tones. His fingers are delicate as he strokes your cheek. “Your beauty always leaves me in such awe.”

Rolling your head, your lips brush against the tips of his fingers, overflowing with gratitude. “You are too kind to me, my love.”

The corners of his lips twitch into a soft smile. “No. No, I believe I am not kind enough.” His other arm hooks around your right thigh, heaving it up in his arms. The dress slides down your body in rippling waves, pooling like golden ink at your hips. “But I will never stop trying to make it up to you.”

Before you can reply, the hand on your cheek slips the nape of your neck. He pulls you up as he comes down, making your body arch into his touch when his lips collide. This kiss is more than the one that let you here — be it the weather or the feral instincts clawing at his throat, Minho’s body is like the brightest flame. Hot enough to bring the entire planet to the brink of extinction.

And it’s all because of you. The smell of roses, the taste of strawberries you had for lunch. His life force, his drive. His muse, who is tugging on his worn out dress shirt and pulling until the buttons pop. Across the room they scatter, lost and never to be found again.

Your hands run across the smooth skin of his chest, carefully feeling every ridge of him. Sweet moans fill his mouth as you enjoy the touch, covering the same spots over and over as if you can’t get enough. It’s easy to get lost in the touch of a lover, feeling their bodies in ways that only you can enjoy. Maybe that’s why you don’t notice his hand moving up your thigh, stopping right at the lower hem of your panties.

But you do notice when two fingers slip inside and quickly brush against your folds, making your body jolt in shock and delight.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Minho says as he pulls back, smiling at the cute expression on your face. “Just relax, darling. Let me care for you.”

“You did.” Your words are breathy, teetering on broken moans. “All morning.”

The chuckle he gives makes you flutter around nothing, new slick starting to coat his digits. “Well, let me do it again. Didn’t I vow to always?”

In the space between his rapid heartbeats, his fingers find your entrance and push inside. With vigor, Minho starts to pump them in and out. The palm of his hand hits your cunt, heel pressing into your clit with each thrust.

It’s an intense feeling, especially with how much torture your husband put you through this morning. You’re more sensitive than usual, hips buck and legs kicking out at the intensity. Only a few thrusts and you’re near screaming, the ache overpowering.

He vowed to always help you, even when you aren’t aware that you need it. Free hand flying to your hip, he pins you down by your hip with enough strength to bruise you.

“Still.” His voice is dark and low, the warning tone causing your bright eyes to widen. Nothing more needs to be said, fear like cold rain washing over you. Following his commands without a fight.

“That’s my good girl.”

Minho has always been good at keeping control. It’s easy for him to calm his mind enough to make sure he doesn’t break. Yet it’s always impossible when he watches your eyes flutter shut, body like the perfect toy in the palm of his hand. His cock aches and twitches in his trousers, demanding for some sort of release.

Even when it seems unlikely, he contains it. Not letting himself get too caught up in the moment, focus narrowed on bringing you the most pleasure he can—

Your left hand cups your breast over the dress. In the light of the fireflies, the simple band of diamonds shine.

When he bought you that ring, his pockets were empty. It was the best that he could find with the little money he had, and even then he had to barter for it. He swore to himself that one day, when he didn’t have to struggle anymore, he would get you the wedding ring that you deserve.

That day came after he published his first book. When the first check came in the mail, he ran to the kitchen, dropping to his knees and proposing. Again.

“Get up, this floor hasn’t been swept yet—“

“Marry me, my darling.” Both of his hands cup yours, the check wrinkling in his fist. “Let me give you all you deserve, starting with this ring.”

His thumb rubs over the jewelry to emphasize his point. He was going to make it better, to make you happier.

“No.” You say simply. “You’re not taking my ring from me.”

“But, darling—“

“I don’t want just any ring, I want the first one you ever picked for me. This one. Now, please, love, get up before I use the broom to sweep you away too.”

It shines as brightly as your eyes under the fireflies. Maybe that’s why Minho can’t think straight. The love coursing through his body bringing him to the edge.

With a loud groan, he stops his movements. Fingers buried knuckles deep inside of you, your husband hangs his head. Your eyes shoot open, concern heavy in them. “Min, are you-“

You fall silent as you notice. The wet spot on his bottoms, growing in size right where the tip of his cock is. Neither of you move, neither of you speak. Watching as cums his pants.

Slowly, he looks up at you. Your hand hasn’t moved from your breast, lips parted in shock — or is that terror? After all, his eyes have never been so dark before.

“See what you do to me?” His voice is more of a growl, pulling his fingers from your cunt aggressively. “See how you make me feel?”

There isn’t time to think. To speak. He doesn’t even take the time to undress you properly; trousers fall to his mid thighs to let his still hard cock spring out. Your head hits the stained glass as he inserts himself into you. Slow, yet rough. Savoring the soft feeling of your walls.

Minho steadies himself by gripping onto your other hip, loudly groaning your name over, and over, and over like a prayer until he’s deep inside you. If you thought his fingers were intense, you’ve shattered from this stretch, clawing at your exposed skin in ecstasy.

All is right when your bodies create one. Limbs tangled, lips swollen. He leans down as he starts to thrust into you, not pulling out more than half an inch. Each one is deep, hitting places neither of you knew existed until this moment.

Nothing else exists. In this moment, you are both all that was. All that is. All that is to come. The universe pauses for you, time stopping as you love each other to an extent that no one thinks is possible. The earth cracks under you, breaking from the strength of this connection.

Better than any story written across time.

His head lays on your chest, the position thoroughly uncomfortable though Minho is convinced it’s perfect. He listens to the beating of your heart, kisses your warm skin, fucks you in unimaginable ways.

“I love you.” He mumbles against the swells of your breasts, nuzzling deeper into them. Craving a life only you can bring. “I love you so much, my darling. I-I don’t even know how to say it.”

This time, you shush him. Threading your fingers through his dark hair, you turn his head so he can look at you. Meeting your bright eyes, full of life.

The metal is cold against his palm. Hard to move regardless of how hard he pushes.

“I love you.” You smile at him. “In ways I’ll never be able to tell you.”

The snow and gravel crunch under his boot. Only a few more steps.

“You’re my everything, Lee Minho.”

Though he’s sniffling, he still smiles up at you. Fully consumed by your presence, wishing to freeze this moment so it never ends. “I thought I was the bane of your existence.”

The laugh you give is full. “Why can’t you be both?”

Though his pants are thick, the cold still seeps through. He sits with his legs crossed, letting the snow melt under him and numb his thighs. It’s a nice distraction — one he really, really needed.

“I don’t know what to write.” He says out in the dark of night, staring at the jewelry in his hands. A small, golden heart pendant and the simple ring cling to the chain, warm from his body heat. They were tucked away the entire walk, pressed close to his slow beating heart. “I’ve gone through sheets of parchment and at least five journals and…nothing.”

With a sigh, he starts to spin the ring. It’s too small for his fingers, though he had tried. Once it got stuck on his pinky. Minho left it there for days, not doing anything until his finger started to turn purple. It hurt too much to take it off.

“You would be appalled by the state of my office.” The laugh he gives is dry and shaky. “I let a pot of ink spill today, and I don’t know when I’ll clean it up. It was almost refreshing to watch it wash away my work.”

The tears have started. He’s not ready. Not now, he just got here—

“I don’t know why this is so hard for me.” He licks his lips, over and over and over until they finally crack. “You’re all I could ever think about, all I could ever talk about. So writing about you should be the easiest thing I’ve ever done. But I try, and I try, and I lose sleep wracking my brain to try and encapsulate what you were. How you held existence in your eyes and loved with such a fierce heart that it could have been the comet that killed the dinosaurs. How can I love you so fucking much, and not know how to talk about you?”

Minho was determined not to look up. If he doesn’t look, he won’t get hurt. Reality can be nothing but a hoax as he talks to you, lost in a world the two of you created.

The dream he wants to never escape from.

But there’s only so much he can take. Finally, his head lifts and fuck how he desperately hopes to see your bright eyes. Instead, the stone sparkles. Your name engraved above the dates, a small reminder that you were real.

Slowly, the author sits up on his knees and begins to crawl. At the headstone he stops, slowly lowering himself to the ground. Letting his body sink into the snow as he lays with you and clutches your jewelry to his shattered heart.

It isn’t long until his eyes start to shut despite his efforts to stay away. One blink, then a slower one, and another until there’s no more. On the last one, right as sleep pulls him in, he swears he hears your laugh.

[nahoney22]

How about a request for Wrecker/Female Reader using the prompts

“all I could think about today was you”

and “i've been looking for my hoodie-" "my hoodie, you mean."

NSFW if you want, but definitely fluffy. I’m excited to read all the prompts you do! Thank you!!

3000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Wrecker X F!Reader

word count: 955

NSFW

Prompts:

“All I could think about today was you.”

“I’ve been looking for my hoodie-.” “You mean my hoodie.”

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Soft smut, Morning sex, creampie, lots of cum, established relationship, dirty talk, loving relationship, female reader, p in v sex, aftercare, lots of fluff.

authors note: Queued post. So sorry for the wait!

You wake up groggily in the Marauder, the dim lights causing you to squint. You stifle a yawn and stretch your arms, trying to shake off sleep that was still heavy on your eyelids. The sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, and you instinctively sit up, a smile forming on your face as you recognise the familiar chuckle.

"Wrecker? You're back already.” Your voice is filled with delight as you spot your boyfriend standing in the hallway just outside the bunks. He leans against the wall, his arms folded, and his gaze fixed on you with a loving expression. Truthfully, he had gone away for a mission and although you expected him to be gone a few days, he’s back within just a day.

He chuckles warmly, closing the distance between you and placing a tender kiss on the tousled mess of your hair. His eyes then shift to your attire, and a playful grin tugs at the corners of his lips. "I've been looking for my hoodie—"

"You mean my hoodie." Your playful retort is accompanied by a light laugh, and you pull the oversized sleeves of the hoodie around yourself, a comfortable embrace that carries a touch of possessiveness. After all, you've claimed it as your own after it remained untouched in a clothes pile for so long.

He raises an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and affection dancing in his eyes. "Well, I have to admit, it looks better on you than it ever did on me."

You smirk playfully, your gaze locking with his as you shift onto your knees, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Can you guess where it would look even better?"

His breath catches slightly at the flirtatious spark in your voice. He raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "I'm listening."

"On the floor," you suggest, your words dripping with teasing allure, a suggestion that carries an unmistakable hint of desire.

He sucked on his teeth at your suggestion, eagerness building within him and his semi was beginning to bulge under his clothes. “Good job I came back alone then isn’t it?” He purrs, leaning down and cupping either side of your face, teasing your lips with his own for a moment before he commits.

You sigh against him, your lips grazing delicately over his slightly chapped and scarred ones, moving his hands from your face down to your waist. He catches wind and starts to tug, lifting his, or more importantly, your hoodie from your body.

“Maker,” he breathes, admiring your nude form from underneath, nipples hard that he was just longing to kiss, “how did I get so lucky?”

His large hand cups your left breast, massaging your skin and always making sure he was careful to not hurt you with a firm grip. “Pretty sure it should be me asking that.” You shift onto your knees and pull him back down to you, this time so he now hovers over your body where he begins his assault of loving kisses all over your face, chest and breasts.

Soon enough, you’re both completely in the nude, his hips rut against you as he stretches you so beautifully open. He shudders at the sensation, mouth salivating. “You’re so wet,” he comments, eyes blown.

You gasp at his touch, burying your face into his neck as he treats you so well, so loved. “All I could think about today was you.” He rasps into your neck, inhaling your scent. “Ya always smell so good in the morning, babe.”

You hum in soft amusement, toes curling at the pleasure as he softly grinds against you, taking this moment to be slow and romantic for once in a while. “I smell gross and sweaty. And besides, you hadn’t even been gone for long.” You whispered soundly.

“And every second,” he grunts, pulling away from his neck to gaze down at you, giving you the opportunity to cup his cheek, reminding yourself how handsome he truly was, “I missed you.”

“And now you’re here.” You smile lazily, “fucking me.”

“Damn right I am.” He seethes through his teeth before picking up the pace, his thrusts become relentlessly amazing and his words strong with filthy wants and needs.

Your fingers dig into his skin, legs wrapping around his body as he gives you all he can give, heavy pants and moans that could be heard all throughout the empty Marauder.

“Wrecker,” you whimper his name, head scrambled as his cock fills you, “I love you.”

“I love ya too. Love ya so much.” He kisses your lips gently despite his harsh thrusts.

As stars blur your vision, your hand comes down between the two of you as you rub against your clit as you beg him for your release. Your climax hits followed by the feeling of his warm seed filling you fully, but also pouring out of your hole with his cock still lodged inside you that had your legs spasming and sweat glistening on your skin.

“I stuffed you pretty good,” he chuckles as he pulls back, looking at his handy work and the mess on the bunk as he slips his softening cock out of you.

He helps you clean up, even changing your sheets for you as you take a quick shower in the refresher, coming out to see him sitting on the edge of your bunk, holding out the hoodie towards you. “It’s yours if you really want it.”

You smirk and strut towards him, letting your towel slip from your body in exchange. “Funny, I already said it was mine.” You smirk, giggling as he pulls you into his lap and holds you close. Maybe you will share. But for now? Not a chance.

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