#please its just the toxicity in my head finding its way out

[mercurycft]

𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 — 𝐀𝐖𝐅𝐂

## reader x awfc !!

hi all!! finally releasing this, which is in honour of jonas finally pissing off away from our girls and our team! i hope you enjoy! love always, RGx

warnings: angsty team x management arguments, mentions of mental health!

3.6k words.

“i’m sure the team will be buzzing with joy this evening after tonight’s win, but how are the girls and yourself taking the recent and surprising departure of a lifelong gunner?”

“yeah, as you said we’re all pleased with the result tonight - it was a great match with a good side and i think the score reflects the determination we took onto the pitch with us.” you watch as beth pauses, like she is searching for words that will do her feelings justice. “she was the best of us, not just the team but the best of us and our friends. i think she was and is destined for great things, but life and people unfortunately happened to get in the way. but i’m happy, we’re all, happy for her.”

you've known beth long enough to know when she is lying and it pains you to realise how the tone of her voice drops at the mention of you. it stings momentarily, but you shake it off and allow pride to take over you as the camera pans to the rest of the team taking their victory lap.

you find yourself smiling absentmindedly at your phone, having sat through the entire match with your eyes glued to your phone - watching your girls on the pitch from your home, instead of beside them for the first time in years. your stomach filled with a cocktail of emotions that you can’t seem to process at this very moment. a toxic mixture of sadness and despair, twisted and twined with anger and hatred for what the situation had become.

its been two weeks since your statement went out, three since you made the decision and four since the argument. in an ideal world, it wouldn’t have gone this way - you would’ve stomached your feelings for longer and swallowed your bubbling anger, bit your tongue and carried on as usual. but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

------

1 month ago.

a 3-0 win should be celebrated. it should fill you with joy and overwhelming excitement - but it doesn't. instead, it fills you with nothing but anger and resentment for the club you once loved, you used to love. in place of congratulations and pats on the back, is a lecture. a plethora of critiques and corrections despite the effort and conviction everyone had shown.

you and the rest of the girls stand huddled in a group in the locker room, stood in an agonising silence. your hair is still wet, from the sickly british rain that decided to visit, your face still tinted red and your chest still heaving.

you tune out to jonas' voice, watching absentmindedly as he paces ahead of the group - volume above his usual decibel as he tears into the group, pushing further and further. you don't listen, allowing your mind to wander. no one dares talk back, instead choosing to take his words. you, however, fail to be as nonchalant as them - swallowing the bubble of anger in your throat and biting your tongue to the best of your ability.

your mind is brought back into the tiled room at the snap of your name from the front of the group. you look up to be met with jonas' eyes on you - his eyebrows raised and seemingly awaiting an answer. "what?" you mumble through gritted teeth, eyes locked on his.

"do you care to fill the rest of us in on what is so important besides my feedback right now?"

you shake your head, matched with a sarcastic looking, sickly-sweet smile and lift your hand top gesture towards him. "oh please, carry on."

"i dont appreciate your attitude," he quips back, screwing his facial features together, feining disgust.

"whatever," you scoff, rolling your eyes and peeling yourself away from the bodies beside you - now overly aware of their eyes on you.

"i'm out." pause. "i'm going to leave, and have a glass of wine and celebrate a fucking win." you turn away from them, too busy to take off your kit and instead scrunching your clothes and belongings into your kit bag. "which by the way, is what we should all be doing! instead of standing here taking shit because he didn't like how we were moving on the pitch!"

there was a shift from him, and a deep red tint crept up his neck as he shot daggers at you from across the tiles. “i do everything for this team! maybe once in a while, it would be nice for you to do the same if you think you know better! please, do tell us, what makes you think you have done anything of significance for this team? for arsenal!”

it changed, then. the small shred of sympathy you had, the small shred of guilt - gone. ripped from inside you and splattered across the walls of your home stadium locker room. the girls around you seemed shocked at his words, confused and unsure of what to expect next.

you paused. taking a deep breath and halting your shoving of clothes and shoes into your bag, and turning to face him directly through the sea of red and white kits in front of you.

“what do i do, for this team?” the question sounded almost broken, like you couldn’t actually believe he was playing this card. you searched for the answer deep within yourself for a few seconds, allowing the hurt to build in your throat and fuel the fire burning deep behind your eyes and in the pit of your stomach. your eyes flicked over each of the faces now looking at you and a small smile teased at the corners of your lips as you looked at their concerned expressions.

after a few more moments of silence, you inhaled deeply and began. “i’ve given my life, to this club. to this team. i put in the work, i trained day and night in the academy, until i was enough for the senior team. and when i made it here, i made a difference. i stepped up when kim was out, when leah was out. when laura first moved here, i took her in.” you paused, taking another shaky breath, cautious of the tears held back by nothing more than your water line. “i don’t expect you to give a shit. but whilst you were too busy tearing this team down. katie for her aggression, kim for her captaining style, leah for her rehabilitation, viv for her performance, beth for her drive, lia for training hours and every other fucking player in this building. i was building them back up, i was trying to make this right.”

silence fell over the room, and you shook your head. “im done.” you all but whispered, slinging your bag over your shoulder and moving towards the large doors leading away from the locker room. “i can’t do this anymore, this club is my home - and i will not watch you tear it down.” you shoved the door, a single teare slipping down your cheek the second you heard the door swing back on its latch and close again. you didn't stop to say goodbye to the familiar faces in the building, instead, with your head down and focused on the floor beneath you - you walked straight into the carpark, got into your car and drove home.

as you drove away, the weight of your decision settled in your chest. you couldn't believe it had come to this, that you had walked away from the team you had poured your heart and soul into. all the emotions you had been burying for weeks and weeks on end were now uncontrollable, tears streaming as you contemplated your actions but you knew you couldn't bear to stay in an environment where your efforts were belittled and unappreciated.

after a 40 minute drive, you found solace and refuge in the familiar walls of your apartment. the silence enveloped you as you sank onto the sofa, reaching for your phone. you hestitated in pulling it out of your bag, unsure of what may be waiting for you when you unlock it.

but still, you did, heaving a deep breath when your screen lit up with a message from beth. her words expressing concern and confusion about what had transpired in the locker room. as you read beth's message, a mix of emotions washed over you - relief that someone cared enough to reach out, but also a pang of guilt for leaving without saying a proper goodbye. to her, to any of the girls in the room. you quickly typed out a response, skipping over the details of your motives - instead opting for a light hearted message, apologising for your abrupt exit and apologising for not controlling your temper.

minutes turned into hours as you sat there, staring at your phone, the weight of your actions heavy on your shoulders. you hadn’t moved, still sat in your jacket and kit, boots still tied to your feet. the sound of a familiar notification pinged through the room - like it had been doing on repeat since that first message from beth, and you saw more messages popping up from your now ex-teammates.

------

1 week later - 3 weeks ago.

the days blurred into a week as you settled into a routine without the training sessions, team meetings, and the constant thoughts of upcoming matches that used to consume your time. you found freedom in the quiet moments alone, the weight of expectation now lifted off your shoulders, a sense of liberation starting to bloom within you. you finally felt like a person, not just a player.

you had been speaking to the girls everyday, each of them keeping you up to date on life behind the scenes of the club. the drama and tension seemed to have escalated in your absence, with rumors swirling about disputes between jonas and some of the other players. your decision to leave had sent shockwaves through the team, but it also seemed to have sparked a newfound sense of unity among everyone.

it was a miserable london evening when you got your first unexpected visit, darkness just creeping across the clouds when a knock at the door interrupted your law and order binge.

to your surprise, standing on your doorstep was leah, with a hesitant smile on her face.

a flood of questions and uncertainties raced through your mind as you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to say or how to react to her unexpected visit.

"hey," leah began, her voice soft yet laced with underlying tension. "uh, can I come in?"

you hesitated for a moment, the inner turmoil evident on your face as you considered whether to welcome her inside. finally, you stepped back, wordlessly opening the door wider to allow her entry. leah entered cautiously, taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment with a mix of nostalgia and apprehension.

there was a palpable tension in the air as you both stood in the living room, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire. you shared the quiet for a second or two before leah spoke up, her words carefully measured. "i know things have been rough lately... for all of us, you especially, i wanted to come here and talk, clear the air maybe?”

you studied her face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was genuine concern etched in the furrow of her brow. with a sigh, you nodded, gesturing towards the couch for her to sit. as she settled on the edge of the cushion, you perched on the arm beside her, like you used to.

"i just... i wanted to say that i'm sorry. sorry for not speaking up before, for not standing by you when things blew up. i let my own fears and doubts cloud my judgment, and i should have been there for you, we all should have been there for you."

her words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the unspoken tension that had plagued your relationship for months. you could sense the sincerity in her voice, the raw vulnerability that she rarely showed to anyone.

“i appreciate it, but it wasn’t your fight, le.”

“your fights are our fights, you’re one of us, you always have been. you always will be”

you gave her a half smile in response, and moved closer to her on the sofa - opening your arms to her. she mirrored your smile, allowing your arms to wrap around her and hers around you.

after a few moments, you pulled away, looking at her directly. “thank you, for coming round. and for looking after me for all these years. but i think,” you paused, sniffling and turning your attention to the fabric of the sofa below you. “i think its time,”

she nodded along with you, taking a deep breath before smiling at you. “if that’s what you want to do, then do it, and we will support you. i promise.”

“i don’t know how to tell the girls, i haven’t seen any of them since i left. i don’t want them to find out through social media,” you rambled.

“we’re all meeting at mine tomorrow, why dont you come along? i know they want to see you, and i think you deserve a night to relax with us - gunner style.” you share a laugh at her comment, agreeing to see the girls. a small shred of anxiety tore through the depths of your stomach, but you shook it off; determined to do the right thing.

the next day seemed to fly by, seeming to disappear from you as you spent the hours doing odd jobs - attempting to distract yourself from the uneasiness gnawing at your insides.

now, you find yourself outside leah’s flat. she said 7, but you underestimated the traffic at this time in this part of the city - so you’re late, as per usual, and composing of yourself on the door step. after a deep breath, you raise your hand to knock.

once, twice, then the door flies open. a smiley young aussie waiting to greet you, her arms immediately around you and pulling you tight to her frame. “jesus, i missed you,” she whispers into your shoulder. “i missed you too, k.” you pull apart and she grabs your hand, pulling you from the now closed door and into the living area. it’s littered with everyone you know and love.

they greet you like nothing has changed, arms wrapped around you and whispers, comments and remarks of support. you slip into the group like you never left.

after you’ve eaten, and have returned to the living area, you stand up - allowing everyone’s eyes to fall on you. you take a deep breath, smiling at them then looking down at your thumbs. you twiddle them and enterlock your hands as you search for the best way to say it.

“i wanted you to hear it from me, that next week, a statement will be released. a statement explaining my temporary contract termination from arsenal. i love you all, like my family. i don’t want any of you to feel like any of this is your fault, but i just feel like i’m at a different point in my life right now - a point where my views, and the clubs managment’s views no longer align. i can’t jeopardise my mental health, for people who can’t seem to put me, or my friends, first.”

you say it in one, your mouth and words moving faster than your brain can comprehend. you finish with a shallow breath, looking up to the group. they take it well, a few of them shedding tears at the offical loss of their friend and teammate, others hugging you and sharing comforting smiles. you know it needs to happen, but this is the part that kills you. leaving behind your family, your people.

the night draws to an end and you begin saying your goodbyes, promising to keep in touch and arranging plans to meet up soon. as you start making your way out of the room and towards the door, kim pulls you aside. you can’t read her expression, a sickening mixture of sadness and happiness for you.

“i’ll miss you,” she says softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “but I know you’re doing what’s best for you. just don’t be a stranger, okay?”

you nod, feeling a lump form in your throat as you hug her tightly one last time before heading out the door.

------

1 week later - 2 weeks ago.

3pm. your phone dings with a notification from the arsenal woman’s football club instagram and app, giving you and thousands of others the news of a new and important post. you hover your finger over the notification, hestitating.

you open it eventually, propping your phone up as the video loads onto the screen. you cringe at the sight of you, expectant of whats to come.

“hi gooners, it’s so nice to sit down and speak to you. this year marks my 15th year at arsenal, if we’re taking it all the way back to my first academy scouting when i was 8. i have nothing my fondness and admiration for this club, these people and this community. to be apart of this team and to watch the growth of woman’s football has been an honour and a pleasure i will forever be grateful for. when i think back on my years here, i have nothing but happy memories. memories of friends, of wins and of losses, of meeting fans and selling out stadiums. some of these things we never believed would be possible, but you, every last one of you, have made it possible. after 15 years of my life dedicated to the game, i think it’s time to take a break. temporarily and indefinitely, i will be taking a step back from the club. thank you all for your unwaivering support, it means the world to me. this is a special club, which remains my home. but my health and wellbeing needs to be my number one priority. thank you.”

you watch as the video comes to an end, and the messages, comments and likes begin. you switch off your phone after a few minutes, tucking it under a cushion on your sofa and resuming your show - tuning out the constant buzzing.

------

present day.

you watch until the live recording of the match ends, you watch all of the post-match interviews, with nothing other than a smile on your face. when the stream finally does end, you feel like you can breathe again, switching to your messages app and drafting a text into the groupchat to congratulate the girls on their win. you press send, then abandon your phone beside you somewhere on the sofa. paying it no mind and you lean back into the comfort of the cushions and pillows surrounding you.

as you sink deeper into the softness, you let out a content sigh, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. you close your eyes and let the sounds of the television fade into the background, relishing in the quiet of your own thoughts.

you dozed off, allowing the safety of sleep to engulf you for a few hours. you lay peacefully until the doorbell rings, jolting you awake. you groan in annoyance, wondering who could possibly be bothering you at this hour. you reach for your phone as you stand, 9pm. reluctantly, you shuffle away from the sofa and make your way to the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

as you swing open the door, you are met with a pair of familiar faces that brings an instant smile to your lips. beth and viv, stand on your doorstep with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"surprise!" beth exclaims, holding up a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers. "we come bearing gifts. can we come in?"

you step aside, allowing them to enter, still slightly taken aback by their unexpected visit. they both breeze past the threshold, only stopping for a moment to give you a hug before making themselves at home on your sofa.

“i didn’t know you were back in london, viv!” you exclaim, watching her set the flowers on the counter. “and shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” you ask beth with a laugh, shutting the door and joining them on the sofa.

“there’s no where we would rather be, mijn liefje.”

its the later end of midnight when you all start to tire, spread across the sofa and floor with eyes barely open and focusing on the movie playing.

“do you guys want to just stay here tonight? i don’t wan’t you driving home tired.” you say through a yawn, stretching your back out and turning to look at the both of them cuddled up beside you. both of their eyes closed and chests rising peacefully. you smile to yourself, moving to grab a blanket from the basket beside you and cover them both up. you switch off the tv, turn off the big light and make your way to your bedroom.

it isn’t long before you’re asleep too.

------

the next morning you wake to a persistant buzzing sound, your phone rattling on your bedside table. notifications from twitter and instagram flood your lockscreen, along with messages from the arsenal groupchat and from distant friends.

your eyes are just barely open when you reach for it, giving your eyes a moment to adjust before looking at the screen. you swing yourself off the bed, feet finding the cold of the floor as you pad through the flat until you find beth and viv.

they’re awake, both sharing the same expression as they look at you in the doorway between the two rooms.

you begin to read from your phone. “we can confirm that jonas eidevall has resigned from his position as head coach of our women’s first team and leaves us with immediate effect.”

[haute-honey]

astro obs.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Libras are always expected to give others something. Others always seem to look to them to give them their time, energy, love, affection, hell even their life. Of course they have issues with people pleasing because people naturally want to take take take from them. When they try to establish boundaries, all hell breaks loose leading them to never try to establish them again.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Speaking of Libra, I'm seeing a lot of posts about how *gay* we are lol Which made me wonder and think back on all the times I've had other women who I thought I was in true platonic friendships with fall head over heels in love with me and admit their true feelings to me. First time it happened I was literally in 4th grade.... How do we hetero Libras turn the gayness off or are y'all going off of what is stereotypically gay?

🤸🏽‍♀️ Libra rising are indecisive because when they make a hasty decision or impulsive decision, 9 times out of 10 it blows up in their face. Let them take their time dammit!

🤸🏽‍♀️ + libra rising kids not only experience bullying/jealousy/evil eye from their peers, they'll even experience it from full grown adults.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I saw someone mention that not liking 6th house synastry is because you enjoy toxicity in relationships...and I disagree. I think 6th house synastry depends on the type of relationship and the sign that it is in. For me, the 6th house works more for friendships and professional relationships rather than romantic relationships. As a straight woman, the sign my 6h is in is not ideal for a relationship for me due to other placements in my chart.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Furthermore, what synastry works for you best or what synastry you find to be most romantic is based on you and your chart. Don't let any of these "astrology girlies" pump your head up with bs just because it works for them.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Fellow scorpio placements (esp you scorpio suns) I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this, someone making you aware when you're exhibiting toxic/bad behavior does not equate to them being unloyal or betraying you. You need people around you that'll hold you accountable for the fucked up shit you do sometimes. No, it doesn't make them a snake or mean that they don't love you but my god, get a grip girl and be so motherfuckingly forreal.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Aquarius men aren't the challenge yall think they are... they're just detached. If that is not your style of love, move along.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Lilith energy is for women/feminines. If you are looking at Lilith through a synastry chart, the one who holds that power when it comes to how Lilith is placed is the feminine in the equation (if there is one). Men/masculines are subdued by Lilith. Not the other way around. For example, if a man's Lilith conjuncts a woman's Venus, he won't be able to use that power over her because he will not connect to it and will not know how to use it.

🤸🏽‍♀️ It is SO FUNNY when I read other observations on Libra placements. Its either we are mean girls/bullies or we are fake/people pleasers lmfao As someone with a lot of prominent Libra placements and influence, I have always had to deal with the fake allegations or the bitchy/intimidating mean girl allegations. Its like if we're not kissing ass we are the meanest bitches but if we are trying to make an effort to please everyone, we are people pleasing fake ass bitches 😆 I need y'all to pick a side and stay there when addressing Libras.

🤸🏽‍♀️ To say a venusian ruled person (Libra/Taurus suns, risings, venus) is a copy cat is laughable because they are the ones getting their swag stolen or having people wanting to be their friends to siphon their aura/vibe. Ex: Cleopatra a Taurus sun (Venus) had her "friend" copy her entire style/aesthetic.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I applaud the female/feminine Libras who have given up on pleasing others and have taken on the bitch allegations with pride because fuck these people. Y'all are weirdos who expect pretty women to fit into whatever box you feel like they should to appease your own self esteem. Seek help.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Degrees absolutely have effects on the natal chart and don't let anyone tell you otherwise! You might resonate more with whatever sign rules over the degree of your sign or rising rather than the actual sign that sit in those placements.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I saw someone say that a unevolved Sagittarius man is scared of sex........... while that could be true they are more often than not sexual deviants when unevolved.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Speaking of sagittarius, Jupiter ruled people quite literally NEED Jupiter to help them out and provide them with more luck than the rest of us because these people are the ultimate self sabotagers. They love trouble, they enjoy creating chaos often then not. And Jupiter is always there to put out the fires they start.

🤸🏽‍♀️ You can't really tell anyone what synastry is best for romantic relationships vs which ones you deem worse because at the end of the day it is all about preferences. If you like a familial feel to your relationships, you'll probably like 4th house synastry. However, if you're like me and come from a veryyyy dysfunctional family, 4h synastry will repulse you. So figure out your own vibe and what you like in a relationship and go from there.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Women with prominent sagittarius placements often are seen by outsiders as the "cool" or "fun" moms when really they can be verrrrrry neglectful towards their children. Ask me how I know lol

🤸🏽‍♀️ Saw someone say that Scorpio sun and moon placements can be backhandedly bully people and this is when I have to bring up the issues of generalization when y'all are making these "observation" posts. Any placement has the potential to be a bully. Literally any of them. However, why Scorpio sun and/or moon might stand out is because they can be LETHAL with their words (ex. Tia Kemp - Scorpio sun). Like they really know how to cut somebody up with their words and they are QUICK with it. Kind of like a scorpion with their tail. So be mindful and don't take it there with them if you can't keep up because you'll need therapy after they get done with you.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Scorpio moon women are either resenting other women or being resented by other women. It can go either way.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Gemini women are the ladies that look a mess 99% of the time and I like that about them.

[wandaslittleweirdo]

A/N: just a little idea I had….. this is kinda intense, so viewer discretion is advised :p — masterlist.

tw: jealousy, toxic relationship, wanda holds your head under cold water, heavy dom/sub dynamics, pet names (darling, little angel, sweet girl, etc), dirty talk/coaxing, possessiveness, age gap > reader is 23 wanda is 36

dark!mommy!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader

ೀ The cool evening air clings to you as you step into your home, the light scent of rain sneaking it’s way through the open door. You had spent the day out with a friend, laughing and sharing stories that made your heart feel lighter than it had in months.

The air is heavy with the scent of incense and candle wax, and you assume it was Wanda trying new spells while you were away. You sigh, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders as you kick off your shoes, your socks sliding along the wooden floorboards.

You pad your way into the kitchen and over to the fridge, the hum of its motor the only sound in the otherwise silent house. You cracked it open, the chill rushing out as you grab a bottle of water.

Wanda's embrace is sudden but comforting, her arms slithering around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder as she breathed in your scent.

"How was your day, my sweet?" She asks as she sways you in her arms.

Her eyes look for yours in the reflection of the fridge door, a silent demand for details. You twist the cap off the bottle, the plastic crunching under your grip. "Hey, Wands," you smile, turning to face her and leaning against the fridge. “My day was nice. Met up with a friend, had dinner, watched a late movie. All that jazz.”

Wanda’s smile remained, but her grip tightens around your waist. "Which friend was this?" The sweetness in her voice now has a brittle edge to it, like a thin sugar coating ready to crack under pressure. You hesitate, the chill from the fridge seeping into your bones as your mind scrambled for the right words.

"A random one," you shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. She raises her brows expectantly, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "It was just a guy from work."

Her eyes narrow slightly, the green in them darkening like a storm approaching. "A guy?" she repeated lowly. "What's his name?”

You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath through your nose in an attempt to hide your rapidly increasing anxiety. "His name is Alex."

Her eyes search yours, looking for any sign of deception. "Alex," she murmured, tasting the name as her eyes fell to the pendant of your necklace. "I don't recall you mentioning him before.”

You feel your throat tighten, looking down at your hands and squeezing the bottle nervously. "He's a new friend. I've only talked to him a couple of times."

She purses her lips, running her tongue over her teeth. "And why didn't you tell me you were going out with this Alex guy?"

"Because it’s not like that, Wands—“

“Do you expect me to believe you went to a movie theatre, alone with a man, and that’s all you did? You just watched the movie and came straight home?” Her tone is accusing, her hand moving to play with the neckline of your dress, the action feeling more threatening than playful.

“Yes! He’s not like that, and you know I’m not.”

“You probably wanted him too. Because that’s what you sluts want, right?”

Panic floods your chest, your mind racing to find a way to reassure her. “Please, you know that’s not true!”

You try to pull away, but she holds you still, tutting you when she sees your lip quiver and your eyes water in fear of what she might do to him, or you. Her thumb traces your cheekbone, the gesture eerily gentle despite her harsh words. "You know I can read your mind," she reminds you softly, her fingers coming up to caress the side of your forehead. "So tell me the truth, Y/N—“

“I am, I didn’t do anything! Just fucking drop it, Wanda!”

Your reaction surprises the both of you, her eyes widening and her hand pulling back slightly. You feel the blood drain from your face as you realise what you had said, your heart picking up its speed. A moment passes, and your words seem to finally sink in, watching as her jaw clenches and her nostrils flare.

Suddenly, her hand flies up, and she grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you forward and pulling you away from the fridge. You gasp, stumbling as she drags you across the kitchen, the floorboards protesting underfoot. She stops at the sink, her grip unyielding as she twists the faucet handle.

The cold water gushes out, and you feel the first droplets hit your face, the chill of them making your breath hitch. She bends you over the sink and stands behind you, your shaky hands gripping the cold counter to keep yourself steady. “What are you doing?" you choked out, your eyes wide with horror.

“It seems to me you’ve forgotten your place, Y/N,” Wanda says, her voice deceptively calm. "Maybe after this, you’ll remember to watch your mouth."

Without warning, she plunged your head under the stream of icy water, holding you there as you sputtered and squirmed. Your lungs burn as the shock steals your breath away, the world around you reduced to a muffled roar as the water fills your ears.

“Shh, you’re okay. Mommy’s got you,”

“The more you fight me, the longer I hold you here.”

“I know it’s cold, honey, but it’s for your own good. Just a little longer,”

“Sweet girl, why do you always push me to this point?” Her voice is a mix of feigned disappointment and pity as she continues to hold your head under the frigid water. You struggle, your hands slapping against the sink and counter, trying to break free, but her grip remained firm. Your eyes squeeze shut as you choke on the liquid invading your nose and mouth, each gasp for air met with more water.

"I'm sorry, mommy!” you manage to gasp out, your voice high and desperate. She doesn’t flinch hearing you beg, cruelly watching the water soak your hair and distort your features.

Wanda didn’t move until your struggles weakened and your body went limp. She pulls you up from under the water, and you gasp for air, your vision blurry and your hair plastered to your face. You cough violently, a mix of water and blood splattering back into the sink.

"Look what you made me do," she murmurs, looking down at you with faux empathy. "You know better than to speak like that to me. If this happens again, you give me no choice but to teach you a lesson. Do you understand?”

You nod, hysterical as tears stream down your cheeks. Wanda turns off the faucet and tugs your head up, her voice like steel. "I said, do you understand?”

You let out a hiccup, your voice trembling as you nodded again. "Yes, mommy. I understand. I only want you, no one else, I promise.” The corner of her lips twitch into a small, proud smile hearing your frantic response, the storm in her eyes finally starting to simmer down. Her thumb strokes your cheek, smearing the mascara trails that the water had left.

“My little angel," Wanda whispers, her grip on your hair loosening. "You always know just what to say to make me happy."

She gently pulls you up from your position over the sink to turn you around, wrapping her arms around you and pulling your trembling frame close to her chest. "I know you don’t like when I hurt you, but mommy just wants what’s best for you, okay?”

"I know, I'm sorry," you murmured into her blouse, another sob rocking through you. “I won’t see him again.”

Wanda visibly relaxed hearing your words, letting out a soft sigh as she stroked your wet hair.

"That’s my girl.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[solbaby7]

If ur still taking requests can i ask for azriel x reader. Where reader and Az are newish friends. One day Elain asks reader for help on how to please a man (I imagine elain always on her back 🤷‍♀️). Reader asks elain if its to show Az and elain just blushes sweetly saying "maybe". Reader being a girls girl shows elain how to be ontop and how to do other favors like if they were besties. ( idk if uve seen game of thrones but a girl shows khalessi how to ride khal drogo. The girl straight up straddles her with clothes on of course, And shows her. I have it in my head that while reader straddles elain Az walks in and is like 😮😮). Readers a bit jealous cuz she has a mini crush on azriel but doesnt show it. She sees elain with some hickies and what not and she decides she cant be around Az anymore (hurts too much blah idk lol). Az is like wtf! Turns out that Elain was asking for sexy help for lucien!!! Doesnt have to be detailed smutty at all, whatever ur comfortable with is cool with me. Oh btw i so so loved that possessive toxic azriel fic u posted the other day. 🫠🫠🫠 🥵🥵🥵

I love love love love love this idea! So happy you requested it🤍💗

—

Teach Me

azriel x reader

[ part 2 ]

“Well—can you help me with that?” A furious blush fans across Elain’s cheeks, eyes wide and hands fumbling at her sides. Dainty fingers dig into the intricate lace detailing of her dress, nails raking over the pattern in attempts to calm the racing of her heart.

“You want to know how to please a male,” You repeat gently, slightly shocked after she’d timidly slipped into your bedroom with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It took Elain ten whole minutes to reign in her rambling until she’d finally blurted it out. “Anyone in particular?” She doesn’t meet your eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot and your stomach rolls at the turn your mind takes. Elain had been spending a lot of time around Azriel; afternoons spent tending to the garden and evenings were blocked off to trail behind as she baked some new sweet treat. “Az, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Elain mutters softly, subtly taking in the contents of your room. The pictures propped against your side table and the endless jars and creams stacked neatly on your vanity. “Can you please teach me?”

Pushing side your curiosity, you offer an encouraging smile, patting at the spot beside you on the bed. “Come here.” The first step is hesitant and so is the one that follows but Elain still finds herself following the gentle command and complying even further when you urge her to lie back. You can feel her thighs shake when you swing a leg over to straddle them but the trembling subsides when you adjust her hair and straighten out her dress. “Sex is like a dance.”

Immediately, she’s hooked, hanging onto every word as if you were the Mother herself coming down for a personal visit. Briefly, Elain’s gaze flicks to the door, shoulders relaxing when noting its shut and locked; curtains drawn and the fireplace crackled with life. The smell of you is everywhere. Something light yet memorable, soft and elegant, classic and slightly sweet—soothing in every way. “A dance?”

“It starts off slow,” You begin, a sliver of your abdomen exposed in your Night Court attire. A breathable onyx top that seemed to wrap around your chest like a bandage, blending into a lighter material that was slightly see-through. “Lingering glances from across the room, the heat of feeling his eyes watching you long after you’ve looked away.” Her confusion is palpable in her furrowed brows and slight pout. “Love always begins in the eyes—I’ve heard of women who’ve finished males with nothing more than their gaze alone.”

“Finished?” Your brow raises, a teasing smirk accompanying it and the implication alone has Elain’s cheeks rosy once more. “Oh, gods. I don’t think I’m capable of anything like that.”

Your fingers trace along the length of her bare arms, holding her hands and guiding them to the sides of her head as you hover, voice low. “You are a woman. You’re capable of anything.”

Elain swallows thickly, taking in the words as if it were the first time she truly wanted to believe them. “What if he doesn’t like it? Like me or the fact that I’m not very experienced.”

“They don’t care about if you have experience or not. They simply desire what they’ve never had.” She hangs onto every word, analyzing the way you guide her through the motions of what she’d do. Talking her through the scenarios on how she’d touch; when to kiss and gently tug at hair. Eventually the blushing becomes less frequent, Elain’s eyes fluttering closed as she visualized it, working through the new feelings that brewed at the thought of being able to use such teachings.

“And they like that? Us on top?”

“If you like it then they’ll love it.” You rest her hands at your waist, demonstrating the sensual rocking of hips going back and forth. “Fae males are not like the human men you were accustomed to—all sweet and gentle. Fae’s fuck. They take control,” You’re still above her, watching as her thoughts race a mile a minute, thick lashes fluttering before she moves in a flurry. Quickly the position is changed and while it’s a little sloppy, Elain was obviously paying attention as she hooks her leg over your thighs the same way you had hers. “Good job—exactly like that.”

She lets out a laugh, seemingly surprised in her own actions but the thrill of it all is evident across ethereal features. “My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Breathe through it and always remember that no matter how highly you think of him in your mind, no matter how highly others think of him—in that room, he belongs to you. There for you to do as you please and if you’re ever uncomfortable you can always say no. You can always stop no matter how far you’ve gotten.”

Elain nods in understanding, dainty fingers barely gripping at your wrists. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do if—just, thank you.”

She lingers a tad longer, following every instruction you give and just as you’re about to correct her, your door creaks open. A familiar voice calls out your name, shadows slinking across the wallpaper but they freeze once they take you in—sprawled out against the bed with Elain straddling you, hands pinned by your head.

“We were just—“ Elain scrambles off of you, cheek and chest a furious red as her mouth opens and closes; unable to come up with a reasonable explanation before she’s sliding past Azriel and rushing down the hallway.

“Most people knock.”

But Az wasn’t most people. You’d been friends for years and long since had he forgone the formality of knocking before entering. He hasn’t moved an inch, still donning his fighting leathers and surely he must’ve just rushed in from flying because his hair was a fucking mess. Inky strands lay messily atop his head, flopping over his forehead and teasing the thick of his brows. “What was that?” A finger points in the direction Elain had just disappeared off too and you’re unable to explain why such anger swells in your gut—all too aware of the fact that another female would be using your moves on him.

Seducing him in a manor that belonged to you but would never actually be you.

“Just wait a little, I’m sure it’ll make sense soon.” Confusion sweeps over the angles of his face at the vagueness of your words, skewing the corners of his mouth and you have to physically tear your eyes away before you did something stupid. Like, kiss him. You suck in a sharp breath, a hand curling around the doorknob. “You should get to bed, Az. It’s late.”

You can’t bear to see the look on his face when you close the door on him but it was for the best. It was one thing crushing on him while knowing he wanted another. But it was more complicated now, teaching the object of all his desires exactly what to do to him—how to please him and draw out the sounds you’d been dreaming about for decades.

You flop down on your bed, nose scrunching at the lingering smell of Elain on your pillows.

Sleep doesn’t grace you with her presence that night, instead offering a series of scenarios of what could be happening a few hallways down.

Elain’s back two days later, a goofy grin spread across her cheeks and a line of hickeys branding the side of her neck in a way that makes your stomach turn. It takes everything in you to hide the jealously, to smooth over the embarrassment of ever possibly thinking that Azriel would go for you when he had a blushing Archeron hanging off his arm. “I take it that it went well.”

“More than well,” Elain confessed, dressed in a pale shade of green with ivy’s laced into the thin sleeves. “It was perfect—everything was perfect thanks to you.” She continues on, divulging naughty details and devastating descriptions of Azriel’s fingers grazing at bare skin, the tickle of his hair against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his body when the nights chill became too much. “I’d always heard whispers about the males of Autumn but you guys really weren’t joking,” Your head tilts to the side at that certain detail, brow quirking and your spoon halts its swirling about the teacup. “Fire really does run through their veins.”

“Autumn males?” Your hair flicks behind your shoulder with the wild way you turn to face her, arms crossed loosely over your chest. “You were with Lucien last night?”

Elain nods with a knowing smile growing at the corner of full lips, the tulle of her dress shifting obnoxiously when she takes a seat on your bed.

“I guess I just assumed you’d be with Azriel.”

“Not quite my type,” She replies wistfully, gaze far away as if she were reminiscing on the night before and the male involved. “He’s yours though,” It’s not a question but a statement, thrown out there as if it were a known fact amongst others and you were the last to be let in. “—you like him.”

The teacup pressed to your lips muffles the words but Elain still understands perfectly clear. “”He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t really look at friends the way he looks at you.” You swallow audibly, attempting to hide your interest and yet it’s the quick flick of your eyes that gives you away. “It’s exactly as you said the other night,” Elain raises from the bed, a gentle hand trailing up your arm the same way you’d done to her. “Love always begins in the eyes. Just look at him—really look at him and see what’s right in front of you.”

Your hands tremble in your lap and for the first time in a very long while, it was you that felt like the blushing virgin searching for answers and not knowing where to look. “I don’t think I’m capable of handling what I might find.”

“You are a woman,” Elain softly answers. “You’re capable of anything.”

[lqvesoph]

Is it over now - LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"

warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)

a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones

masterlist | taglist

You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.

Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.

You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.

Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.

Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.

His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.

But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.

He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.

But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.

Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".

You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.

"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.

You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.

"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.

"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.

"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.

Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.

Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.

Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.

The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.

"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.

"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"

"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.

You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.

"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.

"Uh-hmm."

"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.

"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.

"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.

"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.

"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.

No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.

How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?

"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.

An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.

Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.

And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.

"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.

"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.

"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.

"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.

He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.

"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.

Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.

"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.

"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.

"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.

Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you

Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.

"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.

You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.

"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.

Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.

"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"

Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.

"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.

Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.

But instead he backed off.

"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.

"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.

Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.

"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.

Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.

"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.

"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.

"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.

"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.

"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.

"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.

Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.

His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.

"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.

"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.

Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.

His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.

Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.

Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.

"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.

You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.

While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.

"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.

Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.

"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.

"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.

His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.

Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.

His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.

"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.

Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.

"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.

His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.

"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.

"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.

"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.

"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"

You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.

"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.

He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"

"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.

"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.

"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.

Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"

"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.

You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.

"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.

"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.

He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.

"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"

His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.

You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.

There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.

The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.

"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"

"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.

"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.

Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.

"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.

The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.

"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.

"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"

"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.

"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.

You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.

"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.

A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.

Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.

Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.

"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.

Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.

"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"

You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.

You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.

As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.

Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.

You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.

Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.

His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.

"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.

He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.

"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.

You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.

You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.

But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.

"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.

You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.

Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.

Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.

"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.

You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.

Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.

He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.

You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.

When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.

Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.

"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.

You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.

"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.

Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.

"Was it ever really over?"

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-nymph

[joostsblog]

am i complex to you part one ~ joost klein fanfic

PART TWO HERE // part three here

My masterlist here 💌✨

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: From first meeting the blonde musician to sharing headphones and very intense eye contact, this was not how you anticipated your evening at your friend's party panning out. 

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Just a quick short Joost fic to get into writing again [i feel like its challenging to write for him bc i just can't replicate his wit and charm authentically]. I wanna practice my writing by doing requests! so please send Joost requests [do's: female!reader, smut; don'ts: established relationship, toxic relationships]

Warnings: 18+ only, consumption of cigarettes and alcohol, non proofread

The music blasting through the loudspeakers sounded like they might as well be underwater and a thousand miles away as soon as your eyes crossed the blue eyes of the blonde man entering the room. Your eyes locked for maybe a millisecond too long until the ice-cold drink in your hand reminded you of your surroundings and you averted your gaze trying to appear casual as you turned to your friend Mila again. 

"... and that's how you know all the guys on Tinder are for the streets," she concluded her story. 

"Your first mistake was going on Tinder expecting to find a guy looking for a serious relationship," you reminded your friend. 

"Yeah, what? As if I'm gonna find a guy like that somewhere else like at this party?" she joked. 

"Maybe" you shrugged laughing. 

"Yeah right, talk to me again if it happens to you," Mila chugged the last of her drink. "Want a new one?" she pointed to your cup and smiled shaking your head before Mila took off for the bar. 

You casually glanced across the room to find the handsome boy from earlier as you found him standing by the door with a group of friends. His body language was elated as he was joking with his friends. He was wearing some baggy pants, a shirt, some thick-rimmed glasses and a cap which had some of his hair poking out at the sides and just above the nape of his neck. Scattered across his arms you could make out a few tattoos. 

Suddenly, as you were calmly admiring the man across the room, his head turned and he looked at you, making you jump internally. Swiftly you turned your head away as you felt hot flashes come across your cheeks. Shit shit shit - you thought to yourself as you nervously fiddled with the drink in your hand. Well, what's the worst thing that could happen? You turned your head again to see that the man was still looking at you. Who's the weird one now? You smiled amused and cocked your head lightly in question. The blonde man grinned and shrugged innocently. You lifted your brows in return and raised your drink to cheer him across the room. He smiled and did the same and as your eyes were locked you both took a sip from your drinks respectively. But your little moment was interrupted by one of his friends trying to get his attention and quickly he was immersed in the conversation again. 

You chugged the last of your drink and decided it was time to find your friend Mila. Your suspicion that you would probably find her on the dance floor was quickly confirmed as you made your way through the crowd. 

"Ayyyy!" she cheered as soon as she saw you and reached for your hand to pull you closer. 

You threw your head back in laughter as you started to dance along to the music filling the room. For the time being you wanted to forget about the fascinating boy from earlier and just enjoy yourself. But you couldn't help but notice how your thoughts kept wandering off to him. Was he looking at me because he thinks I'm attractive? Does he think I'm odd? Was he flirting or just being nice? Is he watching me right now? I think I look good dancing. I wish he was watching me right now. 

"Wait, what's this guy doing staring at you all the time?" Mila laughed irritated as she gestured to the side. You tried to sneak a look discretely and surely you were met with the same pair of blue eyes as before. You grinned and looked back at your friend, maybe swaying your hips just a tad more than before. "(Y/N)?" Mila laughed in shock when she noticed that you weren't phased. "What's going on? That guy obviously wants you," she stopped in her tracks and looked at you intensely. 

"You think?" you giggled playfully. 

"(Y/N), who is this?" Mila persisted. You smiled and shrugged your shoulders as you continued moving your body to the music. "I can't believe this." Mila laughed as she looked back to the side. "You need to go get him or something." 

"We'll see," you said and grabbed Mila's hand to make her do a playful twirl. 

~ 

"You want a smoke?" you heard a smooth voice behind you. 

You were leaning over the railing of the balcony as you had stepped outside for a quick break. As you turned your head around you were met with the same guy from earlier, this time up close. A yet unlit cigarette was stuck between his lips and in his hand he was holding out a packet of cigs, offering you one. 

"Did you follow me outside?" you jokingly asked as you reached for one of the cigarettes, "Thanks." With him standing so close to you now you realised how tall the man was. 

"In a non-creepy way," he retorted jokingly as he lit his cigarette. 

"That's yet to be decided," you said and leaned forward as he was offering to light your cigarette as well. His other hand was cupped around the top of the flame to prevent it from blowing out and as you looked down at the tip of your cigarette you took the opportunity to admire his hands. "Thanks," you leaned back against the railing once the cigarette was lit. Your eyes met again and there was a short moment of silence. 

"My name is Joost by the way," the guy said and extended his hand for you to shake. 

"(Y/N), nice to meet you." 

One and a half cigarettes later (the latter was shared between the two of you, passing the cigarette along every few drags, your fingers lightly brushing against Joost's in doing so) you learned from Joost that one of his friends that he came with went to Uni with your friend Mila, that he was a musician and that parties aren't usually his thing. He learned that you had yet to visit the beach even though you already had been in the Netherlands for over a month and that you also tended to avoid parties because you were quite particular about what kind of music you liked when partying. 

"What kind of music do you like then?" Joost asked. 

"Hmm," you pondered as you took another drag from your shared cigarette. Joost was standing beside you, his back also leaning against the railing. "Well, I could show you," you said and pointed to the wired headphones that were dangling out of Joost's pockets. 

"Sure," he replied and quickly reached down. 

As Joost offered you one pair of the headphones and put the other one in his ear you moved over and stood in front of him now. You became aware of how close you were standing now. The short wires forced you to take just another step towards him, your feet standing in between Joost's. You studied Joost's face from up close as he unlocked his phone and navigated to Spotify. 

"Here you go," he said much softer than before as you were now standing so closely to each other. He turned around his phone and offered it to you. "Don't judge my search history," he joked as you were typing in a title. 

"Never," you said. "This song I've been listening to a lot recently," you introduced before you hit play on TEXAS BLUE by Quadeca and Kevin Abstract. 

You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the music. By the second chorus, you opened your eyes again to check on Joost's reaction only to see that he had been looking at you. You both grinned and quickly looked away. 

I'LL BE HONEST (I'LL BE) 

IT HURTS SO MUCH MORE THAN I KNEW 

As the song slowly came to a close you looked at Joost again to see that he had his eyes closed, his head moving along the the rhythm. You smiled. 

"Shit, that's so dope," he said after the last few notes of the song played and you watched as he quickly added the song to his library. 

"Now you have to show me your stuff," you said and Joost laughed. 

"Completely different vibe," he assured me. 

I don't care, you wanted to say but you were interrupted by a loud "JOOOOOST!" sounding from behind you. You turned around to see presumably one of Joost's friend stepping outside on the balcony. "Where have you been?" 

"Heeey," Joost replied and put his phone in his pocket. Quickly he turned to you, his hand touching your arm softly. "I'm sorry," he laughed apologetically. 

"It's fine," you assured him, your hand resting on his bicep just for a second too short before his friend came up to the both of you. 

~ 

"There you are," a familiar voice exclaimed beside you as you were standing by the bar, contemplating what kind of drink you should get next. 

"Glad you found me again," you said with a smile as you faced Joost who had been dragged away by his friend earlier. 

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked. 

"Sure," you smiled and told the person on bar duty your order. 

As the bartender put your finished drinks on the counter, the cups were spilling as he put way too much. Joost grabbed both of your drinks and already took a sip from his cup so as to not make a mess. 

"Take a sip," he said and held out your cup towards you. Instead of taking the cup yourself, you stepped closer, your eyes locking with Joost's. Your hands crossed behind your back you wrapped your lips around the brim of the overspilling cup and took a sip, looking up at Joost who stared you down sternly. 

"Thanks," you said after swallowing and wrapped your hands around the cup and for a moment Joost's fingers were entangled between yours. A short pause ensued and you realised you were done with talking. If there was anything you could do to make Joost touch you again, to have his body closer to yours, to be able to feel his lips on yours and preferably other parts of your body, you would do it in an instant. You and Joost were still staring at each other, not saying anything. 

"So," you started and set down your drink on the bar after you took a sip. "Do you come here often, or?" you joked. 

"Oh, shut up," Joost laughed and within just a second he stepped towards you and his hands were resting on the sides of your cheeks. Your right hand found the side of his waist before you closed your eyes and your lips finally pressed against Joost's. The kiss was hungry and hot and his lips tasted of beer. His hands were gentle but firm on your face, his thumb carefully caressing your cheek as he moved his other hand down to hold your waist. Your left hand found Joost's neck where you buried your fingers into his hair. As you pressed your body closer to Joost's it still somehow wasn't enough. Joost seemed to read your mind when he reluctantly broke away from the kiss to ask "Should we get out of here?" 

"Yes, please." 

A/N: Again, pls send in requests! Read part two here! Read part three here!

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

Distraction (Hirai MoMo x Reader) SMUT

Toxic relationship(not with momo), cheating, smut, dom!momo

3 hours. Thats how long you had been sitting on your front porch, waiting for your girlfriend. She said she would pick you up at 7pm for a date, It was your anniversary after all but now it’s 10pm and she’s no where to be found.

You’re lost in thought when your phone rings, it gives you hope that your partner is calling to tell you she’s almost there, that she just got caught up but no, it was just your best friend Momo. You answer with a sigh and a sad, “hi.”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” She was able to read you like a book, the slight change in your voice told her something was bothering you, “I thought you had your anniversary date tonight.”

“Yeah so did i.” You laugh bitterly, “she never showed up.”

“Again?” Your older friend asked, angry at your girlfriend’s neglect knowing she could treat you better if you gained your senses and left your relationship.

“Yeah. Again.” Your voice is sad now, a bit pathetic, and definitely pitiful. It breaks Momo’s heart to hear.

“Why don’t I come over? We can hang out and I can take your mind off of it.” An added ‘like always’ threatens to leave her lips at the end of her sentence but she stops herself as not to upset you. Usually taking your mind off of it means a movie and crying and ranting but you didn’t know she had a different plan for tonight.

“Please.” Momo’s chest stings at how defeated you sound.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

And she was. One minute earlier than she said actually. Unlike your actual girlfriend who was hours late. It was sad, even your best friend cared enough to be on time. She walked into your house with the keys you had given her years ago, where you’re sitting on the couch, head in your hands, tears threatening to leave your eyes. She sits next to you silently putting an arm around your shoulders, and she can practically feel the tension leave your body as you relax.

“I can’t believe I let this happen again.” You whisper.

“It’s not your fault”

“Then why does she do this? Am I just not good enough?”

“What? No.” The seriousness in the no surprised you, making you look up to her. Her face was just as serious as her words, “if anything she’s not good enough for you, you don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“Yeah right.” Looking to the ground before the older girl takes your face and makes you look at her.

“I mean it, you deserve someone better” she removes her hands from your face when you’re looking at her.

“Like who? You?” You say, feeling a bit bold after the day you’ve had.

“Yes. Exactly like me.”

You look at each other, your eyes on hers but hers are on your lips.

“Let me help you forget about her.” Her hand finds its way to your hip.

“Momo… I can’t.”

“Why not?” Her lips ghost over your ear, her warm breath sending chills down your spine and letting a wetness spread between your legs.

“I can’t cheat”

“Fuck her. What do you think she’s out doing right now?” She implies that your girlfriend is out fucking other women when she’s supposed to be with you, and she’s probably right.

“Shut up” you say weakly, it’s obvious you don’t mean it. Momo’s lips find their way to your neck, kissing lightly before going back to your ear, you can’t help but sigh at the feeling.

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want this.”

You look her in her eyes and open your mouth to reject her but the words don’t make it out of your mouth before you’re turning your head to kiss the woman. She smiles in the kiss, tangling her hand in your hair to pull you closer. Her other hand resting on your thigh.

“Let’s get to your bed, yeah?”

You nod in response, letting momo take the lead and grab your hand to drag you to the bedroom.

“Lay down.” Her voice is demanding, giving you chills. You follow her direction as soon as it leaves her lips. Making sure to lay down in a way that shows off your body, which takes an effect on your friend, her pupils blown and chest heaving. She crawls up the bed until she’s hovering you, her arms trapping your head. You can feel her breath fan over your face, and she’s looking at you with so much desire a look that makes you rub your thighs together. Momo’s hand moves to your throat, gripping a bit but not enough to restrict your breathing.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

Immediately nodding your head it makes her laugh at your eagerness. She obliged and kisses you, even if Momo had a dominating personality in bed the kiss was soft and you could feel love in it. You pull away after a few minutes, saliva still connecting you when you part. The only thing heard now is heavy breathing.

“Sit up.”

You do. Her hands pull your shirt up over your head and then throw it off to the side. You weren’t wearing a bra, planning on a nice anniversary night.

“No bra? Was that for her? It’s a shame, but I’m glad I can appreciate it.” She’s looking unashamedly at your chest, “you’re so beautiful.” She whispers, quiet enough it’s practically to herself, and then leans in to kiss your chest. Leaving a few marks on her way, causing you to make a sound of disapproval.

“What?”

“No marks, she’ll see.”

“Oh baby, I don’t plan on giving you back after I’ve had you so don’t worry about that.”

Her mouth finds your nipple after she finishes her sentence, you moan not only at the action but at the words. The girl on top of you was hungry, for you of all people, a global superstar who could want anyone in the world and here she is marking you as her own.

Momo sits up between your legs, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, leaving you in nothing but your underwear which were embarrassingly wet and see through.

“Oh, princess. I’ve barely even touched you.” She quips with a taunting pout as she reaches out to feel you over your panties. You cover your face in embarrassment, your best friend shouldn’t turn you on this much especially when you have a girlfriend, right?

“Don’t cover up, I wanna see your pretty face while I fuck you.” Her hands move from your thighs to your wrists pulling your hands away from your face and above your head, “keep them there.”

She kisses your lips quickly before moving onto your jaw, and down to your neck where she lingers for a while making a bunch of little marks, pulling back to admire her work. You buck your hips up into hers, trying to get some friction her hands pushing your hips down so you didn’t find any relief causing you to whine.

“Be patient darling.”

Sitting up, her hands rubbing up and down your thighs starting at your knees and ending where your underwear ends.

“You’re so pretty like this, underneath me barely able to think.”

The next time her hands reach your underwear she hooks up fingers underneath the sides slowly pulling it down while kissing the parts of your stomach that are now visible to her, she throws the remaining fabric off to the side. You didn’t think her pupils could get any bigger, her breathing any heavier but then she saw just how wet you were and she lost her mind.

“All for me? I bet she doesn’t get you this wet, right?”

You don’t answer the mention of your girlfriend bringing some guilt but she didn’t like that.

“Answer me.” As she taps your clit with her hand, not super hard but enough for your entire body to jolt.

“No she doesn’t.”

She leans in and places a light kiss on your clit, and you involuntarily moan.

“Please.”

“Please what.” She says as she kisses your thighs, of course leaving some marks.

“Ugh, you know what.” You say getting impatient. Causing her to stop touching you completely.

“Answer again, without the attitude.”

“Please fuck me.”

She immediately slides two fingers into you and starts moving them at a quick pace, it’s an easy fit with how turned on you are but you can’t help but groan in surprise (and pleasure). Rough sex is all you’re used to with your girlfriend, fast without a care for you in the world, so when you ask,

“Can you be gentle?” In a weak voice, you expect her to shut you down and make fun of you. But Momo’s eyes soften, still dominating but softer. And her fingers move slower inside as she leans closer to you.

“Is this okay?”

If she wasn’t looking you in your eyes you would’ve thought she was teasing you but there was too much care in her eyes for that. You can only muster enough to nod. Though her pace was slow, her long fingers hit deep inside you and she was moving at just the right angle. You didn’t have to be fucked by her for long to know that she was extremely experienced, effortlessly pulling loud moans from you.

“Fuck.” You’re finally able to speak

“Does that feel good?” Her eyes stare into yours, wanting to see your every reaction. You can only moan in response to her question which makes her stop moving her fingers leaving them buried inside of you as she raises an eyebrow.

“What the fuck?” You whine, eyes opening to look at her with a pout moving your hips up and down to try and ride her fingers instead but she holds you down with her free hand.

“I want you to answer when I ask a question.”

You get wetter at the time of voice which Momo can feel on her fingers still inside of you, she starts moving them again. Faster but still gentle, curling them as she pulls out. She spreads them open in a scissoring motion as she fucks you.

“Feels so good.” Only loud enough for her to barely hear.

“Yeah?” She smirks, “she doesn’t fuck you this good does she, I bet she doesn’t even fuck you at all.”

“Wh- yes she does!” You don’t know why you defend your absent girlfriend, even as your best friend is literally inside you, maybe it’s the guilt but the words leave your mouth involuntarily. Momo stops again, this time removing her hands from you completely. She starts to stand up, a blank expression.

“If you’re going to keep defending her then you can go fuck her.” She goes to get off the bed, but you stop her with a grab of her wrist and bringing her hand back to your pussy.

“She doesn’t get me this wet though.” You finally gain some confidence, “and she’s definitely never made me cum.” The last part is said more so as a challenge to the woman on top of you, you knew she wouldn’t leave if you made it some kind of competition she could win against your girlfriend. Momo’s eyes change, a fire in them now, determination to give you what you deserve.

“Poor baby. Pretty girls like you deserve to cum.” She taunts, her voice is mocking. The hand you’re currently holding by the wrist starts moving and circling your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, almost not moving. Her pace gets faster every couple of minutes, and soon enough she’s rubbing your clit fast enough that you’re seeing stars. She stops just long enough for you to open your eyes, about to complain again but then she stuffs 3 fingers inside of you before a sound even makes it out your mouth, the words replaced by strangled cries so she forgot her bid to be slow now purely on a mission to make you cum as you’d never done with your partner before. She was fucking you so hard that you didn’t even notice when she grabbed your phone with her free hand and took a picture of her fingers inside of you. Throwing it to the side as she leans down to connect her mouth with your center, your moans get even louder if possible. Starting with small, short licks, your new lover groans from your taste. Now that she finally got her mouth on you, she eats you out like her life depends on it all while her fingers are still moving inside you at an almost unbearable speed.

“Fuck mo. Please.”

“Are you close baby?

She didn’t even really have to ask, she could tell. Your chest heaving even more, your abs tightening, the moans getting louder but shakier, thighs shaking and you tightening around her fingers. You don’t answer verbally you just push her head closer to you if possible and trap her head with your thighs.

“I- mo- I’m gonna- fuck.” You can’t even get a sentence out with how good you feel, going dumb from the pleasure she’s giving you. “Oh my god.” You scream.

“It’s okay. Cum for me.” Her words come in between licks to your clit, “Be a good girl and cum in my mouth.”

You’re not sure if it’s her words or the way she sucks on your clit or the way her fingers are so deep inside of you but your orgasm takes over as soon as the words leave her mouth. Curses and Momo’s name leaving your mouth over and over again. Even as you ride out your high, Momo’s mouth never leaves you but her hand that was previously inside of you goes to grab at your chest. Sensitive from your first orgasm, you try pushing her away and closing your thighs but the grip she has on your hip tightens keeping you in place as she devours you. The whole time she’s eating you out she is moaning and whispering to herself about how good you taste. Soon enough you’re shaking from your second orgasm, the sheet underneath you soaked now and Momo’s mouth still doesn’t leave you.

“Ah.. Momo. No more.” You say pushing her head away. She listens this time and comes up to your ear.

“Sorry baby, you just taste so fucking good.” She smirks before she kisses you, and you can taste yourself on her, the lower half of her face is now soaked from you and a mix of her own spit. After pulling away she picks up your phone that she previously discarded, opening your girlfriend messages and typing out something. You look confused and she turns the phone around to show you what she was doing.

A picture of your pussy, 3 fingers stretching you out, dripping onto the mattress below it (the mattress that your girlfriend had bought), your face was visible but barely and a message with it.

Don’t bother coming home. I already took care of her ;)

You go to grab your phone back and erase the message before she can actually send it but she’s too quick when she pulls the phone away and hits the send button.

“You’re breaking up with her. Tomorrow.” She said throwing the phone on the side table. It’s a demand, more so a statement as if you were the one that came up with the idea. But you agree, because now that you had Momo you were addicted and wanted, no needed more. She kisses you, softly and her hands massage your body, she takes care of you. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad anniversary after all.

[camsthesadgirlnow]

toxic ex!rafe cameron pounding toxic ex!reader while shes on the phone to her bf , trying to reconcile + fix things after an argument. make rafe a cockyyyy bastard, like hes purpose doing things to make her moan louder , while reader is trying her hardesttt to keep it down and talk things through w ha man lmaoooo. @ericareyesgirl thank you for recommending. This one is perfect

Pairings: rafe Cameron x afab!reader, toxic!rafe x toxic!reader

warnings: pure filthy smut, cheating, oral fixation kink, choking, dirty talk, sex p in v, drunk, taking advantage?, exhibition kink?

Toxic

having a heard head boyfriends has its cons. Take now for example, you had a fight over him liking a revealing picture of some girl on ig. You’ve had this same issues and conversation over three times. He knows what he’s doing and yet he doesn’t care.

you came off to blow steam down at a local pub at the country club. It was one of your favorites and very hidden . Just enough for some peace and quiet. And imagine your surprise when you found your ex, rafe sitting down with you. Five shots in and you found yourself back at his house, naked and drunk.

“fuck rafe, please” you begged sobbing

It felt so good but fuck it was so wrong. Your boyfriend was probably worried about you and here you are being bent over your ex’s bed, gripping his sheets and crying like a desperate slut. You got clarity and started mumbling something.

“b-boyfriend my-boyfriend” you stutter out

“what about your boyfriend. You think he’d like seeing you under me, your ass out with me fucking you. You begging for more.” He grips on the back of your neck and lifts your head up “why don’t we call him hmm?” He smirks

“no n-no please rafe” you beg

he grabs your phone and opens it. He clicks on your boyfriend’s contact and clicks on it.

“you’re gonna tell him you love him and you’re sorry.” He instructs

he places me back onto the bed and somehow finds a way to pound me deeper. Making It difficult to keep quiet and not scream in pleasure. The phone still ringing before another voice can be heard on the line. Rafe picks you back up by your hair and places the phone near your lips.

“speak” you hear him whisper

You lick your lips and try to compose your voice as normal as possible and not that you’re getting fucked by your ex. The same ex your boyfriend is insecure of.

“baby Im- im sorry for overreacting, I love you” you somehow spoke out

you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm and you start crying once more. being drunk and getting fucked is the peak of your life right now. But he doesn’t know that. Not yet anyway.

“awe baby are you crying?” He asks

“y-yes” you moaned out

“baby you okay?” He asks confused

with your eyes rolling back you moan on accident. But you’re too drunk to care. You’re getting the best fuck of your life right now. And you needed this after your poor boyfriend can’t even satisfy you sometimes.

“n/n?”

“daddy please cu-cum in me” you beg “p-please”

rafe takes the phone back to his mouth “you hear that, I’m fucking your bitch” he places the phone on the desk on FaceTime mode.

He flips you over and grabs both your legs and he places them on his shoulders. He grips onto your lower abdomen and starts sinking you down into him. You feel your body just moving down and up and your breast jumping up and down with the motion. Your surroundings being hazy but closing your eyes made it feel better.

You start arching you back and whining as you feel another intense orgasm coming your way.

“daddy-“ you moan

He switches positions and puts you in missionary postion. He enters back inside you as the feeling makes you both moan in pleasure. Your head hit the pillow back as the feeling felt so satisfying. The perfect piece in this puzzle.

He places his thumb inside your open mouth as you suck on it.

“you like this baby? You love when daddy fucks you like this.” He asks still pounding inside of you “he can’t fuck you like me huh? You love this dick don’t you, don’t you.”

your hand gripping his wrist as he moves back to choke you once again. you start feeling that feeling once more and your legs start shaking.

“you close?” He asks

“yes” you whine out

“yeah? you want daddy to fill you up? To remind you that this pussy always belongs to me?” He squeezes harder

“ye-yes p-please” you whimper as he starts moving faster. Showing that he’s also close to cuming. You feel his trusts becoming sloppier and him completely stopping after feeling his cum slipping out as he removes his dick from inside you. He looks back into your phone and realizes your boyfriend hung up. Well ex now.

“I love you princess” he whispers laying on you

As if signing your name in blood, making a deal with the devil. You respond back with those four words that can fuck your life up. But fuck If it’s so bad, why does it feel so good?

“I love you too rafe”

a/n: yall this was shit. my apologies. better fics on the way. I promise🩷

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

-

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

[hannieween]

pushing and pulling | joshua hong

› pairings: joshua hong x female reader › genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) › aus: nba player joshua, playboy joshua, love affair › word count: 8k

› 🎧: take you down – yugyeom | do me right – gemini | pushin' n pullin' – red velvet | middle of the night – monsta x | 100 ways – jackson wang | dumb – i.m | guilty – taemin

this post is connected a nba joshua playboy request (you can find it in my page on the reqs tag)

› nsfw tags under the cut

› warnings: slight hurt/comfort, toxic vibes, reader is married, body worshipping, oral sex, pussy drunk shua, soft-dom joshua, oblivious pining, love making, unprotected p in v sex, lotus position, a bit of cockwarming, creampie, reader is on the pill, joshua is kind of a jerk but sweet in some way, pet names: baby (hers)

› big big thank you to @cvntrlseecvntrlvee who beta read this for me and helped me edit and with the more tricky aspects of joshua pouring his heart out to you ( > 〰 < )♡

› also thanks to @glowunderthemoon who brainstormed with me and recommended 100 ways by jackson for this chapter. i wanna kiss your genius brain

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

pushing and pulling

The elliptical beeped softly as Joshua forced it to a stop. He kept his breathing steady, but he couldn't ignore the impulsive need to wipe the sweat off his face.

He looked closely at his progress. Feeling content, he climbed down, wiped the machine and walked away to finally commence his general training.

The gym was particularly deserted. As expected from a Friday afternoon. Joshua had just finished warming up and moved to do some bench presses. It was his usual Friday routine, except he mostly went during the mornings.

But last night he couldn't sleep. And he didn't have any plans for the rest of the night, so, the gym it is.

He kept the music in his earphones at a high volume to drown out the music blasting from the gym's fancy sound system and the lonely goers who were working on the other weight machines.

Why do they have to let the weights drop that loud? So noisy.

He kept pushing the bar up and then slowly pressed it back down with a controlled motion, letting strained exhales escape his mouth. It was one of his favorite exercises to do. He was lying back on the bench, and staring at the ceiling, listening to music—he could reflect like this.

Until he sat back up on the bench, having finished his rep, and stood up to look for something to clean up the bench after him. That was when he caught sight of you, in the far distance of the gym. You were using a treadmill, looking straight at your reflection in the mirror up front.

Maybe you just got to the gym, he thought from the look of you. Your well-kept hair was braided, there was no sweat on your face from what he could see and well, he hadn't seen you until now.

Joshua kept doing his exercises as normal. But he couldn't shake off the tight knot that had parked in his stomach since he saw you there.

In fact, every time you crossed his mind he felt that way. And he thought of you constantly. He replayed over and over in his head the memory of the events that led you to the first time you kissed him.

It had been a rushed, heated kiss—but everything that happened before it took its time. At every chance, when you crossed paths, you'd sent him glances that,  at first, obfuscated him a little.

Until one night, at a private event. After many suggestive looks exchanged between Joshua and you, in a perfect moment, your husband was out of the way and you got Joshua to follow you down a fire exit. One thing led to the other.

He didn't know you went to the same gym as him—though it could be something he expected since everyone on his team used it. It was quite the exclusive place.

He kept checking on you every now and then. It seemed that you were just running because half an hour passed and you hadn’t left your spot.

That's how he slowly gathered the little details about you, the bags under your eyes, the sad look on the features of your face.

So he kept to his regular training—working his lats, his triceps, biceps and then finishing with abs. Push and pull kinda day. It was supposed to be only pull but well, what gives.

Joshua moved from the last machine, cleaned it off, threw the towel away and walked towards the locker-rooms. Thinking of getting a shower, grabbing his stuff and heading home. Maybe drink a beer and hopefully, sleep.

"What are you doing here?"

Joshua removed his earphones. You had cornered him almost as if you had planned it, and possibly did. He looked over his shoulder as a precaution, the hall was empty.

"What are you doing here?" you repeated, your tone anxious and shifty eyes roaming all over him.

"Baking a cake," he responded nonchalantly.

"Tsk, fine," you scoffed and looked the other way.

Joshua paused and took consideration over what he saw in you, the stale, emotionless about you. Unusual. The features of your face looked torn, instead of the usual kindness he usually saw in them. He confirmed his suspicions that you weren’t sleeping well either when he saw the darkness under your eyes, and the paleness that stole the color from your lips. 

Even with that dead look in your eye, Joshua was convinced that you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. Although all you and Joshua ever did was throw snarky comments at each other, sometimes while fucking, even then, he always thought you were sweet and cute. 

"How about we start over?"

"What?"

"Hi?" Joshua joked. "How are you? No?"

"Josh," you sighed and took a hand to your forehead, where your fingers rubbed your frown tiredly. "Sorry, you know what, you're right. I'm being a little on edge."

Joshua couldn't blame you for that. In fact, he felt like he might be the only person in the world that would understand what you're going through.

He leaned in, his doe eyes reading you carefully. "Do you need to talk?" he asked, his voice devoid of all snarkiness. It was his usual tone, honeyed.

You raised your eyes at him, glinting in such a way that it only made the knot in his stomach twist harder. "Yeah, I–," you choked up. "I... uh..."

"Did you come here by car?" he promptly asked and he saw the spark in your eyes change. Excitement, fear, as if the answers you desired so greatly were all found in him, in that question.

"I walked," you frowned softly. "Why?"

Joshua dug on the inside of his sweats and pulled out the key to his car. "Black Audi A8," he instructed: "Wait for me inside. I'll take no more than 10 minutes."

You pocketed the key in your gym bag quickly. "What are you going to do?"

"Take a shower," he said and started to turn to walk down the hall. "See you there."

Joshua closed the door of his car, settling on the seat.

You handed him the key to his car. "Hi," you mumbled shamefully.

"That's better," he joked, taking the key and thrusting it into the ignition. He drove away from the underground parking lot. As soon as he was within the vicinity of his place and the silence had turned somewhat unpleasant, he sent you a glance. "It's been a while."

You had been keeping your head turned to the side. But you nodded, and you met his brief gaze. "Yeah I've... been busy."

Joshua kept his comments to himself from that point. His mind had started reeling instead. He parked on his spot and as soon as he turned the engine off, he opened the glove compartment, pulling out a cap.

"Here," he offered you the cap.

"Are you serious?" you asked, sending him a bewildered look.

"Listen, I'm not risking someone seeing you here with me and start asking questions," he emphasized those words, knowing what value they had to them.

Because he was the nation's favorite playboy. The one who’s got the eyes and heart of the media. The heartthrob. Ever since his career skyrocketed, this fame, this persona, it had been following him close by like a shadow.

Though all a lie, it seemingly had fooled you too.

"Fine," you said, taking the cap, which was his team's merch, putting it on with a huff. Then you mumbled with dry sarcasm: "How do I look?"

"Pretty, as always," he smirked and pushed the door to get out of his car.

You followed him inside the elevator, down a hall and into his apartment.

"I would've assumed we'd reach the penthouse," you quipped as soon as you were inside.

Joshua turned the first lamp in the corner of the living room. The curtains were drawn wide open, letting in the view of the skylight. He snickered as an attempt to deflect from the constant judgment of his character.

"Why is that?" he asked with a low tone and motioned you over with one of his large hands.

"I dunno," you mumbled and walked over to the fancy large couch. "May I?"

"Of course," he replied and went over to the open kitchen to open the cabinet, grabbing two short glasses. "Drink?"

"Sure, uh," you breathed out shakily. "I only assumed that you'd be like the rest of 'em, you know. Showy, living on the top of the highest building, throwing out money wherever you go."

"Pff," he scoffed, throwing some cubes of ice into each glass. "You've known me long enough to know that's not my style."

That comment seemed to rattle you a bit. You stilled in your seat and when Joshua offered you the glass of whisky, you stared at the ice cubes for a moment.

Joshua was your husband's best friend. You have been part of each other's lives for long enough to know that his lavish lifestyle was nothing compared to the one of your husband's.

But Joshua is nothing like your husband.

Jake, your husband, is the one that the media loves. He is the golden boy, team captain, the one with the most deals, money and fame. The guy who gets all the recognition for being such a good husband.

"Jake is cheating on me," you breathed, letting those words out for the first time since you found out. They hit you like a punch in the gut, and your eyes instantly brimmed with tears of shame, guilt and regret.

Joshua was still standing between the couch and the coffee table, right in front of you. So he sat down by your side, leaving his drink beside yours, not quite looking in your eye as he sighed.

"I know."

Of all the reactions you were expecting, all the scenarios you ran in your mind, you never thought that he would say that.

Because he was your secret.

"How long have you known?" you demanded with a strangled tone.

He turned his head to look at you now, your gazes met and he decided to take a large gulp of his whisky before replying: "Ever since he slept with the first girl."

"Then you've known for..."

"Does it matter?"

Your eyes stopped shifting from side to side, the frantic train of thoughts slowed down. "Yes," you said slowly. "How come you've never told me?"

"I was going to but," he exhaled softly. "You sought me out before I could."

"So you were fine with us fucking and never acknowledging it?" you were quick to put two and two but then, "Why?"

"I thought that was what you needed."

"Joshua..." you whispered. "Why? Are you okay with–, why would you never say something about it?"

"I'm okay with whatever you want me to be," he muttered, looking straight into your eyes now. "I knew you needed me, you didn't need to tell me why. I knew."

"So all this time, when you've taunted me about it, to tell him... was it all just for fun? To get yourself off, to make yourself feel better–"

"To play my part," he sighed and went for another gulp of whisky and when you didn't say anything, he elaborated: "Famous playboy. Isn't that the reason why you went to me?"

You looked away in shame. "You're also his best friend. I figured the more excitement you'd get the less I would have to explain," It was your turn to drink from your glass, which you did so slowly.

"Was."

Your stomach dropped. Something in you had worked that out already, but you needed to hear the confirmation from him.

"What?"

Joshua took the glass between his lips, pouring the gold liquid down his throat. "Soon as he started boasting about it. I went low contact," he paused, the glass still lingering in front of his mouth before adding with a hint of disdain: "The dumbass hasn't even realized that I don't want to talk to him."

He looked at you with caution, expecting to see you crying, showing some emotion. Instead, you were mindlessly staring at the ice cubes sitting at the bottom of the now empty whisky glass.

"How did you find out, anyway?" he risked asking, trying to keep your attention still. He felt like you slipping away in your thoughts was dangerous.

"He stopped paying attention to me completely, he even recoils from my touch," you mumbled and your lip quivered a little. "So I started suspecting."

A silence followed and as the seconds went on, Joshua started getting anxious.

You licked your lips, raising your eyes and finding his. "He keeps things from the girls he sleeps with inside a box," you rasped out dryly. "Lingerie, earrings, hair ties... I'm also sure he's taken them to the house."

"Jesus," he hissed, downing the rest of the liquid to discard the glass on the coffee table and rubbing his hands on his face, trying not to succumb to the overwhelming rage he was feeling. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not sure if he either wanted me to find it or he's too stupid to actually keep it well hidden," you sighed. "It's driving me crazy these days."

"Do you have a plan? Do you know what you'll do?" he asked, trying with all his might to derive his attention back to you.

"I have nothing," you whispered.

"Does he know you went out tonight?"

"Jake's not in town. He flew out to visit his family and friends," you rolled your eyes and scoffed.

Joshua didn't need proof to know that was a blatant lie. And it seemed that you knew it too.

You finally set back the empty glass on the coffee table and let out a tired sigh.

"Can I ask you something?" you muttered with a tiny voice.

Joshua knew what was coming. So he relaxed on the back of the couch, shifting one leg over the seat to sit facing your body. He even propped an elbow on the headrest of the couch to lean his head on his fist. 

"Shoot," he mumbled.

"Why are you doing this?" you glanced at him shyly. "You said that you no longer speak to Jake, but you pressure me to tell him either way. Are you–," you choked up again, but now due to your nervousness you started blurting: "Why do this, why agree to have an affair with me?"

"At the beginning, I felt sorry for you," he said reluctantly, feeling ashamed of himself as he looked away briefly. "You looked lonely. And I knew why. So."

"That still doesn't answer my question," you whispered, trying to read his doe eyes under the soft glow of the lamps.

He leaned his head on one side, reading the expression on your face. Your features had relaxed, no longer containing the anxiousness from before.

"Is it not obvious?" he asked back and felt his own heart race slightly, he paused and decided to say: "I'm also lonely."

You made no inquiry about the alleged rumors, everything that the media says about the women who keep coming and going in his life. But he hoped that you would catch onto slowly that it was all an act created by the media to attract people in. And he was their puppet.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" he returned, blinking slowly at you, unable to look at anything else but your face.

"Shoot," you echoed with a shadow of a smile.

"Do you still love him?"

You held your breath and avoided his gaze again. "No," you blurted out, guilt washing over you. "I haven't for a while. Thought that much was evident, though."

"I needed to know," he replied, feeling a light rush of ecstasy run through him upon hearing your answer.

You smiled, but there was no happiness to that smile. It was sad, and had bitterness written all over it. Joshua had to understand then that you lost a good chunk of your life when your husband decided to sleep around recklessly.

But besides the empathy he felt for you, he was livid. He wasn't a man to endorse violence, but he couldn't deny the fact that he has had to contain himself several times before when your husband was boasting about his affairs.

"Hey," Joshua whispered, running the back of his index finger on your cheek. "I'm sorry you're going through this. I really am."

Your brow furrowed a little and your eyes widened, making you look a little lost. "Thank you, Joshua. I'm sorry this probably wasn't the way you wanted your Friday night to go."

"I had no plans for tonight," he explained, blinking slowly at you, an endearing look in his eyes.

"What would a regular night look like for you anyway?" you asked, leaning back on the couch, looking at him with curiosity.

"You're looking at it," he shrugged with ease and nodded. "Minus you being here, of course."

"Be serious," you scoffed at him.

"I am," he rolled his eyes with feigned annoyance. Joshua only kept his playboy image by flirting around. every once in a while, he would take a pretty model or actress to dinner.

You seemed to ponder for a second, without tearing your eyes from his face. "Well, you not being what the world says about you is definitely something I didn't expect," you confessed.

It was Joshua's turn to smile bitterly. "Yeah, who would've thought that the real playboy was the team captain, right?"

Your husband was the team captain. You immediately flinched a little with the realization that your husband's whole public image of being the perfect man was tainted not only by himself.

"Too soon?" Joshua mumbled shamefully.

"No, it's okay," you replied and cleared your throat.

But Joshua could see the gears in your brain turning. He couldn't blame you, he knew the feeling too well. It robbed him of sleep and held his peace of mind hostage every day.

"I'm sorry for pulling you into all of this," you told him. Your eyes were sincere, dimming with some regret just before you looked away.

"Don't be," he muttered softly, putting a hand on your knee to bring you some comfort. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't want any of it."

The features of your face relaxed at that and you met his eyes again. Your pretty hand slid on top of his in a gesture of gratitude. Then a thought crossed your mind—it seemed a little crazy that in all of this mess, you'd find a friend.

Even if the lines of that friendship had become blurry.

Joshua turned the palm of his hand over, so he was properly holding your hand now. You gave him a gentle squeeze, a warm feeling flooding in your chest and that made you sigh.

Then without thinking too much, he took the cap off your head, pushing some hairs off your face with his free hand. You didn't care how tender his touch felt, you welcomed it.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked with a low honeyed voice.

You shook your head silently, your hand was still in his so you just took the liberty to play with his pretty fingers, lacing them with yours.

"No one is waiting for me there," you muttered with a tiny voice and Joshua felt your words punch him in the chest. He felt overwhelmed by the urge to make you feel better, to take the pain from you.

So he just let it overpower him.

His hand came up to cradle your cheek, driving your gaze back to his again. What he wasn't expecting was you leaning your face against his touch, your free hand sliding on top of his and you closing your eyes.

He ran the pad of his thumb on your cheek, feeling your soft skin, then trailed to your lips, caressing them carefully until you opened your eyes again to find his.

You pressed your lips on the pad of his thumb. It wasn't a suggestive kiss, there was nothing in your eyes that meant that fiery need to which you had pulled him out the fire exit that first night he kissed you.

It was an affectionate kiss. But it only made him want more. He craved the softness, the tenderness, he needed you wholly.

So he took his shot, leaning in to rest his forehead on top of yours, the tip of his nose pushing against yours gently and he heard your breath hitch with a tiny moan as your lips brushed against his. He waited like this, waited for you to protest against this, to push him away.

But you gave in not a second later, pressing your soft lips against his own in a slow, tender kiss. You sobbed out some nervousness when you broke away, only to dive right in again with a deeper kiss, wet lips locking slowly, as if meeting each other again.

Joshua released your hand that was previously laced with his, using it to find your waist and pulled softly, motioning you closer. You understood what he meant without him having to break the kiss to say it.

So you sloppily moved your knees on the couch to sit on his lap, straddling him. Your hands cupped his face, now demanding a hungrier kiss from him, which he responded willingly with a low grunt that coiled in his throat.

The kiss suddenly came to a stop with a smacking sound. Heavy breathing filled his ears before he opened his eyes to see the light frown on your face, your eyes desperately reading his features.

"What are we doing, Joshua?" you asked. Your voice sounded shaky and breathless.

"Going with it," he replied, heart pounding against his chest.

"But, after this. Where are we going with all of this?" you demanded and he knew you needed to get ahead of this. You were hurt and probably weren't looking to be hurt again.

Joshua squeezed your arm gently. "Wherever you want it to," he replied sincerely, his doe eyes looking up at you.

"Josh," a question formed on your lips, but then you leaned in to meet his lips with your own.

"Mm?" he responded, the soft lines between his eyebrows seemed to mark a little.

"Just..." you shook your head slightly and swallowed hard, thinking of the warmth in his hands parked in the small of your back.

Joshua understood the restlessness, the danger that you were putting yourself in by being with him like this. He felt it too. But he also knew that you thought about him everyday, all the time. Just like he thought about you.

He blinked slowly at you, with a warmth and homeliness that swept through him. "What do you want?" he asked.

You paused, seemingly absorbed by the question for a second. It was the first time in a long time that someone asked you that—it had been a while since you took into consideration what you wanted, too.

When you started this, you thought that having an affair with Joshua was a form of revenge. To get back at your husband for betraying you. But it slowly became something you couldn't stop, you became greedy about it.

Now, you weren't sure if greed was the only thing that you felt.

"I want you," you whispered, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your body upon confessing it. "I don't care how. I just know that I do. I think about you every day and it's driving me crazy."

Joshua's heart pounded frantically against his chest, his eyes reading your face, trying to gather every detail in your features. He knew it already, but hearing you say it sent him into a frenzy. Nothing else mattered anymore.

His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, lips sealing yours with a passion he didn't know he had inside him. He blindly searched for the scrunchie that secured your braid and pulled it, freeing your hair with a groan.

You shuddered when his fingers sank in your hair, grazing your scalp, holding a fistful to keep you in place as he kissed you hungrily, his plump lips exploring yours.

It was the first time he kissed you like this, without the haste or the snark. There was no fear of getting caught, no need to rush anything. 

"Stay the night with me," Joshua whispered into your lips, feeling his breath catch under a surge of emotions.

"Okay," you whispered back without hesitation.

"Please," he added.

"I'll stay the night," you reassured him.

"Okay," he settled, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you as he kissed your lips hungrily, a soft moan spilling into your mouth when your hands cupped the back of his head.

Joshua felt torn between the need to do things slowly, he hadn't had the chance before to have you like this. Every time he's had the opportunity to kiss you or to have sex with you it's been in lonely corridors.

He didn't want to think about whether he would ever have you here like this again. He didn't want to think of the future and that made him irrational, careless.

Blindly searching for the hem of your clothes, he broke the kiss only to start undressing you. You raised your arms when he got rid of your hoodie you didn't see where it was thrown, Joshua was on your lips again, kissing you with urgency.

"Joshua," you muffled in his mouth. "Let's go to your room."

He nodded and wordlessly motioned you to stand up from his lap, fumbling for your hand to lead you down a dimly lit hall and pushed a door open, turning on the lights to the bedroom.

The room seemed dark upon first glance, the gray bedding contrasting only with the white pillows and the dim lighting of the overhead lamps. To your surprise, the scent of cinnamon hung in the air like a vague memory. As if a candle had been lit moments before he left the apartment to work out at the gym.

Joshua tugged at your arm, pulling you to his body so that he could wrap his arms around your body, leaning his head down to capture your lips with his own with a clumsy kiss as he walked you backwards until the back of your knees touched the edge of his bed.

"Sit down," he instructed softly. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

Your breath hitched slightly, as your body began to heat up as soon as you sat down on his bed.

In one motion he pulled off his sweatshirt, exposing his bare torso. He had minor bruises and scratches on his sides and chest, but you knew it was normal, either from training or from how easily his skin bruised. Or both. While some looked old and faint, other bruises looked black and blue.

With little care for taking his time, he removed your clothes, he wanted you bare as soon as he could so he could finally see you. All the times he has been with you like this, all the times he's had sex with you have been fully clothed.

So when you laid in his bed, wholly naked below him, he sighed out his delight over you. He pressed a knee on the edge of the mattress, placing his hands at each side of your head to lean over your body.

He hummed as he pressed kisses in your lips, once, twice. "You're so beautiful," he muttered in between as his lips moved in yours seamlessly, melting into a more demanding and passionate kiss. 

Your eyes sparked with some amazement when he pulled back. He wondered if your husband ever said that to you, because you looked befuddled for a second.

"Yeah, you are," he muttered, a small smile crowning his pretty lips. "The prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Josh," you chuckled warmly. "Don't go all sweet on me now."

"What, you thought I couldn't be anything but horrible to you?" he teased, kissing the apple of your cheek.

"I like the way you are," you confessed when his lips trailed down to the underside of your jaw, making you whimper a little when he placed an open kiss at the base of your throat.

"Yeah?" he muttered, ignoring the feeling shaking his heart. "Why?"

"Y-you're softer than you let on," you stammered, fingers trembling as you grazed his scalp to grab his hair. "You are kind and fun to be around. You're nothing like the world says about you."

"Mmn now who's going sweet on me," he teased, reaching down to kiss your tits, littering kisses all over, not trying to be sensual or to arouse you. He was simply exploring your body with his lips.

But it was quite obvious that you would become aroused. Your body responded by tensing up under his, your fingers clenching into fists, one gripping the bed covers, the other in his hair.

"Josh," you whimpered, when his tongue lapped around one of your nipples, now teasing it with the tip of his tongue, tasting your skin with a delightful groan.

While he did the same to your other nipple, his hand cupped your breast fully, his fingers gently digging into your soft skin, licking your nipple, his tongue swirling around it. His lips wrapped around your hardened nipple and suckled at it slightly.

"Fuck," you breathed, your thighs clenching when a sharp arousing feeling shot through your body.

Joshua hummed softly, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a soft smacking sound and moved to plant a soft kiss on your lower lip. "Will you let me eat you out, baby?" he lifted a hand from the mattress to pinch your chin. "Mn?"

A hot wave sizzled beneath your skin in anticipation. "Yeah," you choked nervously. "Please do."

He smiled before diving in for another chaste kiss and climbed down the bed. His hands came up to grab your thighs from the underside of your knee and pulled your body down so your butt was aligned to the edge of the bed.

Joshua got down on his knees and you propped yourself on your elbows on the mattress to follow his movements, his hands motioning your legs to rest on his shoulders, holding your thighs to help you do so.

"You have the prettiest pussy," he sighed before pressing his lips on your pussy lips, right before lapping his tongue on your folds with a broad stroke, his hands gripping your thighs decisively. 

You let your head hang back with a low cry of pleasure, sneaking one hand to grab at his hair again, holding for dear life. His tongue explored your cunt fully, not neglecting a single inch of skin, of your folds, drinking in your arousal. 

Joshua darted a look at you. Your head was thrown back and your chest was heaving slightly, only to suck in a breath as his tongue slowly made its way up from your entrance to your clit.

"Oh, god," you gasped when he started pushing his tongue against your clit gently, teasing it first to get it to swell. The sizzling sensation beneath your skin only intensified, making you moan through clenched teeth.

A hand climbed up from your thigh and parked on your lower tummy, palm pressing back on your skin just as his tongue swirled around your clit in swift figure eight motions, unrelenting in their pace, perfectly drawing you closer to the edge.

You eased back on the mattress, biting your lip to focus on the flicking of his tongue on your clit, the way it made the muscles of your inner thighs twitch in response to the sweet teasing. "Joshua, 'm close," you sighed.

Joshua hummed in response, applying more pressure to his large hand on your lower tummy, his low moan vibrating against your sensitive bud.

You slowly fell apart, moaning his name loudly as your sweet orgasm sizzled beneath your skin, washing over you completely, making you tremble on his bed until you are half conscious.

"Joshua," you repeated his name over and over breathlessly. You had released his hair, laying languidly on the edge of his bed as you slowly came down from your high.

But Joshua wasn't done.

His tongue lapped between your folds, dipping into your entrance with a soft groan upon finding that your core throbbed for more. With a soft hum he returned to give your cunt a deep open kiss, making you flinch slightly.

"Josh, please," you breathed out. "I need you... right now." 

You sat up clumsily just as he detached his mouth from your cunt, a shudder going through you when you saw the glistening wetness dripping from his mouth and chin, which he wiped with the back of his hand.

"Come here," you motioned when he stood up and you reached out to hook your fingers on the band of his gray sweats, looking up to his eyes as you pulled both his boxers and sweats down for him to step out of them.

You grabbed his cock with one hand, rolling your hand over to his bulbous head, smearing the precum gathering on his slit to give him a few pumps. You brought his tip to your mouth, giving him shy kitty licks before darting a look to his eyes.

His hand brushed your hair gently before cupping the side of your head. "I thought you needed me, baby," he teased and nodded his head to the bed. "Lie back."

You crawled backwards on his large bed and lied back at the same time that he crawled on top of your body, slotting himself between your thighs with a sigh.

"Let me be on top," you breathed, bumping the tip of your nose against his before kissing him. "Please?"

Joshua looked at you with some amusement written in his eyes, he thought of a snarky remark, to tease you before giving into your request. But instead of that, he nodded and rolled over.

"Sit up," you asked softly, moving on your knees to straddle him.

Joshua smiled and sat up, his hands immediately reaching out to grab your waist. "What are you doing, baby?" he chuckled breathily as you sat on top of him, clumsily wrapping your legs around him.

"Just let me do this," you said with a furrowed brow, scooting so that you could align your core to his cock, guiding with your hand before pushing your hips to sheathe him inside you with one thrust.

"God," he breathed out, the tone of his voice raw as his head dropped on your shoulder. "Fuck, baby."

"D'you like that?" you asked innocently, swaying your hips gently against his and biting back a moan over how good he felt stuffed inside you.

He slowly lifted his head to face you. "Yeah, baby," he sighed with an embarrassed smile as he added: "I missed you."

You shuddered upon hearing his confession. "I m-missed you too, Josh."

"Yeah?" he mouthed.

You nodded shyly. "All the time," you admitted.

You realized that you didn't have to go fast to achieve a high, you were just fine with rutting against his hips, feeling every inch of his cock sheathed inside your warmth. The pleasure written on his face was enough for you to stifle a moan, biting your lower lip.

His dark eyes glimmered under the soft glow of the overhead lights of his room, you saw his mouth part a little before he blinked and dropped his head in your chest, muffling a raw moan in your tits. His hands firmly placed on your ass, pressing down each time you sank down on him.

"Leave him," he muttered against your chest, leaving a trail of kisses leading to your heart.

"Joshua," you whispered, your hand slid up his nape, feeling his soft black hair.

"Leave him," he asked again, now lifting his head from your chest to lock eyes with you. "Please."

You thought of telling him all of the implications of that action alone. Because you've thought about it, you wanted to. You've thought about it countless times but there was always something in the way.

"I'll help you," he swallowed hard. "I'll protect you."

"Joshua," you insisted again. "Please, don't. I can't get you more involved."

Joshua let out a breathy laugh. "I think it's a little too late for that, baby," he said slowly, his eyes glinting with some emotion as you kept bouncing gently on top of him.

You read his face, the honesty in his eyes as he kept looking at you. "Are you sure?" you muttered, holding onto his shoulders with your hands to keep your pace steady.

But he held you through, guiding the sway of your hips with his pretty hands. He nodded with his head. "I've never been more sure about something."

A sharp pain twisted inside your chest, you shuddered and rested your forehead on top of his. "Why? What changed?" you whispered against your better judgment. But you needed this.

"I want to do this," he said, but that wasn't the whole truth.

"I don't want this to hurt you in any way," you muttered.

"Come on, baby," Joshua smiled softly at you, his hands sliding up the line of your back wrapping his arms around you. "Don't go all sweet on me."

"Please Joshua," you insisted, a slight tinge of urgency humming in your tone and you pulled your forehead back to see his face fully.

Joshua's mind began to reel. He considered two things, his most instinctive reaction was to lie and deflect the very evident truth (though not to you) that he was in love with you. The second one, and one that he wasn't too keen on, was to just tell you later.

His hands traveled down to your lower back, grabbing your hips to help you move on top of him with more urgency. He didn't need to finish, but he was hoping he would distract you.

You dug your heels into the soft covers to anchor yourself and started pushing against his hips purposefully. "Why now? Tell me," you whispered. And he saw it in your eyes, you were already suspecting.

"Stay with me," he replied, his voice low but full of certainty.

"I'm not going anywhere, I told you I'd stay," you replied, your sweet voice taking a tinge of concern.

He shook his head slightly. "I don't want you to leave," he said through a ragged sigh. "Stay with me."

He knew he was crossing a line, he was about to find out if you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Your eyes remained on his, and he wished for a second to know what you were thinking. The rolling of your hips came to a stop and Joshua thought that you'd get up and leave. His heart vibrated against his chest frantically.

You gave him a slow nod with your head, it was almost a mechanical movement. Okay, you mouthed, okay.

"Yeah?" he whispered, his eyebrow arching slightly. He licked his lips before bringing a hand up to cup your chin and kissed your lower lip softly.

You nodded with eagerness now. "Yeah," you let out a soft laugh. "Why, where does this come from?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" he hummed, egging you to retake the movement of your hips, wanting to feel your tight walls sliding on him again.

You tilted your head back as Joshua moved his lips down your chin, trailing along the line of your jaw. And you let your eyes close to focus back to the motion of your hips, his hard cock on your fluttering walls and you moaned when his lips reached your throat.

"You were meant to be mine," he murmured against your skin. "He was introducing you to me, before everything."

Jake was supposed to introduce you to Joshua. But then he decided he wanted you for himself and you didn't meet Joshua until you were already dating your husband. And it was fine by him, he thought nothing of it at first.

But then he got to meet you.

"You are..." Joshua dipped his face on the crook of your neck, letting out a soft sigh against your skin. "You are the sweetest girl I've ever met."

His lips left an open kiss on your throat, making you squirm a little and moan. Your hand shifted from the back of his head to cup his cheek and you leaned your head, breathing erratically due to the movement of your hips on him.

"Leave him," he said again, but now you felt like you were losing him to a frenzied trance. His eyes were doing that thing again, glimmering under the soft lighting of the room.

"I will, I'll leave him," you hummed and your heart stuttered, breaking over the man that was looking at you like a lost puppy.

He moaned softly when you captured his lips with your own, his hands held your body, shifting to feel your skin, your back, your arms, until they parked at your thighs, kneading softly at the rhythm of the gentle sway of your hips.

"Joshua," you sighed a moan with some urgency.

Joshua turned your body over, pressing your back onto the mattress and slotting himself between your parted thighs to sink into your walls again with a loud groan from his part.

Now on top of you, he could do what he hadn't had the chance to until that moment. As he pulled his hips back, to then press against yours again, his cock dragging in and out of you, fucking you slowly, he could only think of one thing.

"Let me love you," he muttered with a raw tone, looking into your eyes, his hand met your cheek. "Be mine."

A sob coiled in your throat, making his eyes shift to your mouth and back to your eyes. He knew he had struck something in you, and he knew what you felt.

You gave him a fucked out nod, parting your mouth but no words came out.

"Mn? D'you want me to love you?" he asked with a honeyed purr, a smile stretching his pretty lips when you nodded again. "Are you mine?"

"Yeah, yeah," you whimpered between gasps he drew out with each thrust.

He grabbed your leg, hiking your knee up his shoulder to push deeper into you again with a loud cry of pleasure from your part, making tears gather on the corners of your eyes as he started sinking his cock in your walls again.

"I'm gonna love you," he gasped, the enunciation alone robbing him of air as he slowly pushed himself into a mad love surge for you.

Pleasure bloomed inside your body, inundating you with overwhelming waves, your mouth parted further and your brows knitted. The hand that wasn't holding onto him cupped his cheek, driving his gaze to yours.

"Are you gonna come, baby?" he hummed, enjoying the look on your face when you were close.

"Yeah," you gasped out lewdly, closing your eyes to welcome in the sweet wave of pleasure that shot through you briefly. "'m so close."

"Mmn, yeah baby? Gonna come with me?" he grunted, pushing his cock into your walls, his lip quivered slightly, letting out a raw moan through. "Want me to come inside you?"

"Yeah, please. Please, Josh," you whined pathetically, letting out a strangled moan as you slowly started to lose control, sweet pleasure washing over you, making your thighs shake. "Ohh god, mn, 'm gonna–'m–,"

"I know, I know, baby," he replied gently, feeling your walls clamping down around his cock, your warmth swallowing him, tipping him over the edge too. Joshua moaned in your mouth, spilling himself into you with deep hard thrusts.

"Joshua," you squirmed under the weight of his body as he fucked you through your long and sweet orgasm, making a mess on the bed covers.

With a couple of sloppy thrusts, he waited until you stopped shaking to ease your leg back to the mattress, carefully and pressed his chest against yours. He decided to remain quiet, relaxing into the gentle shock of confessing so much in a span of a couple of minutes.

But he just turned his head, bumping the tip of his nose against the underside of your jaw before pressing a kiss on your skin. Breathing tiredly under his weight you caressed his back with your hands, feeling his soft skin and you let out a soft hum.

"Should we... let's get cleaned up," you muttered after some time, breaking the peaceful silence.

The weight of his body between your legs had started to cause some discomfort around the joints of your hips, but even then you didn't want him to break away from you.

With heavy reluctance, Joshua peeled from your body, climbing off the bed and offered you his hand again to follow him down the hall and to the bathroom, where you washed.

"I can lend you some of my clothes," he offered quietly when you came back to his bedroom, wrapped in one of his bathrobes.

He finished putting on some black boxers when he raised his head and found you standing in front of his large bed. He sat down on one corner, reaching over to you and wrapped his long fingers around your wrist to motion you between his thighs.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" he asked, reading your face, he saw that the color had returned to your lips.

"Yeah, I am," you whispered, caressing his shoulder with the palm of your hand. "I'm a bit scared, Josh."

"I know," he admitted, brushing your damp hair with his fingers and tucking it behind your ear carefully. "But we can plan this together. You're not alone."

That made your glimmering eyes lock with his. It felt like a blow to your chest to come to grips that Joshua was willing to help you and even more so, that he loved you.

"Thank you, Joshua," you said, the knot coiling in your throat stealing your voice. "For everything."

Joshua just nodded silently, bringing your hand to his lips to press soft kisses in your knuckles. "Let's sleep, okay? We'll plan tomorrow."

You wore one of his t-shirts to sleep, wrapped in his manly scent and his gray bed sheets.

At the beginning, you laid facing each other at arm's length. He assumed that you needed space, as it was the first time you slept with him.

So he was beginning to prepare for another sleepless night, but this time he was looking at the subject of his unrest. Even if you were right there with him, the pressing matter of getting you out of your failing marriage by any means necessary was causing him worry.

It took him several seconds to realize that you were still awake. Your eyes were closed, but you slowly moved your body closer to his, until your face nestled into the warmth of his neck. Joshua sighed with a smile and that made you tilt your head back so you could see his face.

"Go to sleep, baby," you whispered, looking at him fondly. "We'll plan tomorrow."

At that moment, he wrapped his strong arms around you, giving you a slow, languid kiss that went on until he couldn't kiss you anymore, until his body begged him to rest.

Joshua doesn't know how he managed to fall asleep in your arms, he believes that it was the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat that served as the best lullaby he could ever ask for.

He wished for more nights like this with you, though he wasn't sure when that would be possible.

Nor of the consequences it would bring.

› a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble

but to answer your question @thatgirlfromwindsor: i think joshua is an ass man. yeah 🤔

if you liked this, lemme know! a comment, a like, reblog, anything is appreciated! drop me an ask if you wanna, send me your filthy reqs, or not ᨐฅ💖

anyway now, i swear that next update will be city lights pt 8, i promise hehe

love you all (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)♡

toodles

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© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[corvidae-00]

Please some jealous (kind of toxic ) joost but with a happy ending 🙏🙏🙏🙏

A/N: **fiddles fingers maliciously** this- I love this- He would so be sorta toxic and totally let his ego get ahead of him- this is gonna be fun to write! I hope you like it!!!!- GN!Reader x Joost :> CW: Toxic mannerisms, Marko is being used as the reason Joost gets worked up- (I love Marko I swear-), swearing, Angry Joost, tinny witty bitty bit of angst, Joost overthinking, smoking. (Let me know if I missed anything!! Word count: 1,747

The after party for eurovisions semi final was packed with the singers and the energy in the room was for sure through the roof. Joost your good friend and his group invited you to come with, Joost wanting to share this moment with you more than anything- the excitement and hype of everyone putting their hearts out there and competing only to come together to talk about how much happened, having you there would make it even better, if that would be even possible.

You agreed to come along, not that you had much choice, the Dutchman having begged and nagged and spammed you until you agreed. Not that you didn't want to come! But you knew you would stand out like a sore thumb, probably hang out by a corner waiting for the delicious food to be available or not so crowded. Looking over your outfit and the time you smile pleased with how you look and wonder slightly if Joost would too. You have had the biggest crush on him since a few months after you got to know him, the feelings having appeared and clung onto you with every ounce of power possible, and honestly? You were fine with that. Smoothing out your clothes you look at the time and decided if you want to make it in time you absolutely had to leave.

Grabbing your bag you left your hotel you had booked for the event and quickly drove over to the Venue like Joost told you it would be, not leaving the Malmo Arena, I guess the hosts didn't want to spend more money renting another place out for the singers, at least it was well know and easy to find. Stepping out of your car you hurry inside showing the security your invite from Joost and entering the main lobby reading your friends text to find the way glaring at the device unsure of what Joost was even trying to explain

"Are you looking for someone?" A strong accented and shy voice came from behind you causing you to turn around and blink a few times at the man in a very midevil looking outfit and gentle eyes holding a cup of what you assumed was water, but could be vodka- maybe he was crazy like that "Sorry- Im Marko.." He quickly introduces himself before continuing "You look extremely lost- Im sorry for spooking you" He says with a genuine tone leading to a smile pulling its way onto your lips. After introducing yourself you look back down at your texts "Im actually here for the after party? my friend- one of the performers invited me and he is quite the character when it comes to instructions..." You rub the back of your neck trying to explain the situation to the stranger who was just as bashful as you "Oh! I was just heading back! I'm not very talkative so I got some air but I can take you to the area they have for us" He offers running his hand through his hair that is surprisingly still in good shape like he had maybe applied hairspray not too long ago "Oh would you??" You put away your phone letting Marko nod and wave his hand indicating you to follow

"So who is your- eh- friend?" Marko looks over at you trying to make small talk. "Oh! His names Joost, he is representing the Netherlands." You explain and Marko's face brightens a little "Oh yes! I enjoy his company!" Marko nods with a smile "Makes sense you two are friends! it seems he can befriend almost everyone" He explains putting a finger to his jaw in what seems to be thought "Do you like cats?" Marko questions as you two get closer to the room, music can be heard from inside. nothing too crazy or club like but maybe just background ambiance "Oh yeah! They are so cute! I don't have any of my own but I like visiting my friends kitty's" You smile watching Marko excitedly pull out his phone "Oh let me show you mine!" He says as you two enter the room Marko going through his camera roll leaning into you to get closer so you can see better

Joost Turns to look at the door, hearing the squeak of the hinges that whines under the weight of it being even cracked open and furrows his brows seeing you walk in with Marko...What was he doing out there? Realizing he must have left the party Joost grows even more confused as to why you two were together- wasn't his directions perfectly understandable? His large blue coat long since shedded, Joost rolls up the sleeves of his white button up and crosses his arms leaning on a table watching the two of you interact. 'he is very close to you' he thinks to himself, a sour taste in his mouth watching you laugh at something he had said 'why is he, the shyer one of the bunch all buddy buddy with you? I mean you always have been so approachable- but that's not fair.' Joost clicks his tongue growing more and more impatient 'what if you are leaving me for him? what if you even forget who invited you here?' Joost can feel his patience thinning and the party getting quieter the more he focuses in on you two. Marko with a big grin on his face and you laughing at a photo he had shown you.

"Hey there you are!" Joost doesn't even recall when he had took strides over- or when he was so close to you he could feel the warm body heat emitting off of you "Marko! How nice of you to find my nieuwsgierig hertje". he purrs looking down at the man who is staring up at him "Oh uh-" Marko looks over at you and then slowly puts his phone away and wraps both hands around his drink "Yeah no issues" Marko nods. "No issues." Joost repeats grinding his molars together forcing a grin. he had never any issues with the Croatian- until he was basically in your arms "Bye-" Marko waves at you with a small smile wanting to escape the current situation and looking at Joost before entering the party again "Joost- You spooked him away" You sigh wrapping your arm around your friend leaning into him and Joost can feel his mind calming "He was too close to you" Joost huffs taking his glasses out of his chest pocket putting them on and pushing them up his nose

"He was showing me his cats-" You raise a brow and Joost looks down at you "that close? I think he just wanted to be up on you" Joost rubs his arms and looks away with annoyance lacing his voice "Whats got you in a mood?" you tug on his shirt and Joost grumbles "Nothing." He reply's and you frown "Nothing my ass, what's wrong" You stand your ground not expecting the tall blonde to drag you out into the hall not caring about his grand exit.

"Nothing is wrong." He snaps once you both get out into the hall "You were all emojis and smiles before you saw me walk in with Marko! he was very sweet." you huff and Joost crosses his arms "Sweet huh? sounds like you have a crush." He fixes his glasses that are slipping off his nose "I just met him Joost, what's up with you?" you frown walking towards him "This is a new side of you" You observe and Joost shakes his head "Im always like this okay?" he throws his hands up and you shake your head

"What- is wrong." you demand and Joost glares "Maybe I don't want to see someone I think highly of with some other guy." He says sarcastically "Highly of?" You push and Joost shakes his head "What are you talking about." You reach for him and Joost grabs your wrist, not hard- you could actually pull away if you wanted too "Someone I have wanted as mine forever, walks in with a guy who clearly was hanging off your every word." Joost pushes through his teeth.

you both stand there still as a wall and Joost observes your face, his pupils scanning you over and avoiding eye contact " you- want me?" You repeat and Joost sighs "onoplettend" he mutters and you shake your head "You cant use your mother tongue to get out of this Joost-" you say and take a shaky breath "Do you like me? like- like like-" You mutter and Joost swallows hard "Ja." He responds and you can feel your face grow hot "Really?" you mutter and Joost drops your wrist "Really. and it really- shook me I guess seeing you come in with him.." Joost grumbles and you shake your head "Your directions were ass" You laugh a little upon noticing Joost's offended face "They were eligible-" He defends and you sigh "I- feel the same- I have for such a long time-" You admit with a small smile "I never thought it was possible-" You shrug and Joost blinks at you like you are speaking in a whole other language

"Not possible-??" he repeats in pure shock "You are the most funniest, smartest, good looking, talented, and so much more of a person that I have ever met." Joost says his eyes going soft and you cant help the silence that comes after your brain still playing catch up with the new information "I wanted to tell you properly- a way you would see me as the same ways I see you..." He rubs his forearms nervously tracing his scattered tattoos. "but I guess-" He smiles "This might do?" he chuckles and you rub your mouth slightly with your hand "It does more than might do- I'm so happy-" You mutter and close your eyes taking a deep breath before walking towards him and embracing him in a big bear hug "You don't know how happy I am that you feel the same way" Joost says exasperated "Next time just tell me you goof than getting all jealous" You tease and Joost shakes his head "I was NOT jealous lets get that straight right now" He states playfully "Okay Mr.Not jealous" You chuckle as Joost wraps his arms around you "how does dinner sound tomorrow night-" He smiles and you nod slightly into his chest "consider it a date." you hum

Dutch translation: Curious deer: "nieuwsgierig hertje". Yes: Ja Oblivious: onoplettend A/N: heheheh I'm just cranking these out!!! I hope you liked it Anon and I hope it was what you were wanting! if not feel free to request again and I'm more than happy to keep writing!!! Thank you all for the love and the requests and everything! it makes my day seeing how many of you like my stuff....thank you! i love you all!!!!!

[killerlookz]

No Going Back | Joost Klein

this is *technically* a prequel to this fic (heartbeat) but should be read after!!!!! as the "lore" is explained in that fic.

description: joost klein x f! reader- after getting into a new relationship, you had decided it was high time to cut off your ex-with-benefits, joost, but an encounter at a mutual friend's birthday party leaves you wondering if it's going to be easier said than done.

content: 18+ explicit smut, MDNI, RPF dry humping, unprotected PiV/creampie, slight overstim(?), cheating, toxic relationships, angst, some fluff, hurt/comfort... probably like way too much comfort, smoking/alcohol, drug ment. but as a metaphor.

THIS WORK CONTAINS RPF, AND HAS BEEN TAGGED APPROPRIATELY. PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, BLOCK ME, AND BLOCK THE RPF TAG-

DO NOT SHARE MY WORK EITHER IN ITS ENTIRETY OR AS SCREENSHOTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIAS,AGAIN I URGE YOU TO BLOCK ME AND THE RPF TAG INSTEAD OF EXPOSING THIS WORK TO A LARGER AUDIENCE THAT DID NOT ASK TO SEE IT.

THIS FIC IS ALSO SOLELY TAGGED IN THE X READER TAG, MEANING IF YOU'RE HERE YOU SEARCHED FOR IT... PLEASE CONSUME MEDIA RESPONSIBLY. (keep this in mind if you decide not to heed my warnings and continue reading or complain about it elsewhere)

word count: 10,728

fic soundtrack: Watercolor Eyes- Lana Del Rey, Blood on My Hands- The Sundays, Show Me the Real You- Moodring

"Now I find that I'm thigh deep, too young for the worst of my mind. You whisper behind me, "If I may make so bold". Call it young and wild, but I ran a mile in a minute... and there's no going back"

You should stop staring.

You're sure by now it's obvious, you're sure by now Joost can feel your eyes burning to him from where you sit directly across from him. The conversations around you are little distraction from your watchful gaze. Not even the feeling of your boyfriend, Michael's hand moving to rest on your thigh can pull you out of your trance.

Joost laughs at a joke Apson tells, one that you hadn't bothered to pay attention too. Instead your focus is fixated on the way Joost's face lights up at as his head tilts back slightly, amused by his friend's sense of humor. The dimples in his cheeks now prominent as his mouth opens, lips curling up into a wide grin. All the noise that surrounds you in the crowded restaurant is dampened by the sound of his laughter, a sweet music to your ears.

Joost's eyes meeting yours as his laughter subsides is finally enough to rip you from your stares. With a few quick blinks you're somewhat back to reality, tunnel vision disappearing. You pull your lips into a tight smile, unsure of if you should be embarrassed by your actions. Though embarrassment is hardly on your mind as Joost smiles back at you, which was more than you could hope for given the situation at hand.

It was probably naive of you to assume that getting into a new relationship would make things less complicated between you and Joost. But in your head, initially, it made perfect sense, a new relationship meant you could push your feelings into something different, perhaps finally get over what was supposed to be your ex-boyfriend.

But seeing Joost now, for the first time since you and Michael had started going out, you realize things aren't going to be so easy, that Joost, and the relationship that the two of you had wasn't something that you could just "get over". Especially not when instead of trying to move on after the breakup, the two of you would remain intimate. While intimacy now lacked the romance of your past relationship, your feelings lingered, unable to separate the Joost in front of you now from the Joost who was once your boyfriend.

A quick glance down at your lap leads you to finally notice Michael's hand on your thigh, the reminder that he in fact was the one here who was your boyfriend making your stomach sink. The uncomfortableness of the night was becoming too much to bare. Damn Julie for wanting to meet your new boyfriend on today of all days, and damn yourself for not being able to say no to your best friend on her birthday.

"So," You hear Julie start, looking toward you and Michael, "Michael, y/n tells me you're not from here, have you been in there Netherlands long?"

Michael furrows his eyebrows, you guess he's attempting to count the months since he left the states,

"Almost 8 months." He replies, his voice is flat, uninterested.

"That's nice," Julie smiles, "Do you plan on staying here for awhile?"

"Depends," He shrugs, his hand falling from your lap, a small wave of relief rushing over you. "I go wherever the money takes me. And right not the money is here."

"Well I guess that's not bad advice to live your life by," Julie nods, but she seems unsure of herself, Michael had that affect on people, making people question whether or not you were saying the right thing. You knew that well.

"It's the only advice to live your life by."

"Nah, nah, man," Joost shakes his head, "There's more to life than money. Where's the passion?"

You bite the inside of your cheeks, eyes flicking toward Michael. Michael chuckles, though, just like in everything else, there's a clear condescension in the way he laughs, making it more-so of a scoff.

"Don't be ridiculous," His dry, faux laughter continues, perhaps a little too long, "You're young, you'll find out soon enough. You don't really think you're going to be doing the music thing forever, do you? "

"Michael!" You place a firm hand down on the table, the silverware clattering slightly from the vibration of your hand.

"No, it's okay," Joost laughs uncomfortably. "Appreciate the honesty, Michael." An apparent bitterness in his voice, "But can't say I'll take your advice."

"Eh," Michael shrugs, "You say that now-"

"Alright!" Apson exclaims from beside Joost, clapping his hands together once, commanding the table's attention, "How about dessert?"

The tension is briefly lifted from the table as everyone looks at each other, nodding contently in agreement that it was, indeed, time for dessert.

You're nursing your second espresso martini while the table finishes up their dessert, combined with the glass-and-a-half of wine you had with dinner, you're certainly feeling, less tense.

You listen less than intently as Julie talks about a recent promotion that she got at work. Not that you're not proud enough of your friend to care, but you're not fully there. You inch your leg forward slightly, nudging your ankle against Joost's leg. You pretend not to notice as his gaze flicks towards you, instead you train your eyes on the plate on the table in front of you, moving around what remains of the food with your fork.

Julie is still explaining her new position as you bring your leg up higher, the top of your foot sliding up the fabric of Joost's pants until you reach his knee.

He's staring at you now, just as you had been staring at him before, you can feel it. Still attempting to keep an air of nonchalant you turn to try to focus on Julie's speech. At the same time you move forward slightly in your seat, extending your leg fully under the table, you press the ball of your foot to the inside of Joost's thigh.

You notice in your peripheral how his posture straightens as he sucks in a breath. You smile slightly, a light puff of air leaving your nostrils at his stifled reaction to your teasing.

Truthfully you weren't quite sure what you were doing, you full well had made plans to stay the night with Michael tonight. After all, your apartment was much farther away than his from the restaurant Julie had chosen for her birthday dinner, it was just much easier to stay with Michael and catch a train back home tomorrow during the daytime rather than traveling by yourself at night.

Despite your other plans, you press the point of your shoe a little higher up on Joost's thigh now, continuing to tease him. You have no real end goal in mind, and you really should be consumed with guilt at even thinking of touching a man other than Michael like this, but the alcohol has mellowed your inhibitions, and there's a certain thrill in doing something that you know you shouldn't be.

You feel Joost's hand against your leg, his fingers wrapping around your ankle, thumb gently caressing your skin. You fight back a smirk, after over a month of not seeing Joost you were ready to melt under his simple touch. His fingers tighten, then loosen around you again, and he continuously repeats the pattern, gently massaging you.

You're dangerously close to poking Joost's crotch with the tip of your shoe when Michael throws an arm around you, unexpectedly. You're startled, kicking forward slightly, forcing Joost's hand from your ankle. Joost presses a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat before pushing his seat back, causing your heel to fall to the ground.

"I need a cigarette," He mumbles as he stands up from the table, quickly hurrying away.

His abrupt exit halts the conversation, the table going silent with confusion.

"Um," You start, "I-uh- think I'm gonna have a smoke too." You nod quickly, untangling yourself from Michael's grasp, standing up, shuffling awkwardly from the table.

You quickly find your way outside, the air is brisk, a chill breeze blowing past you immediately making you realize you should have brought a jacket. Joost isn't too far out the door, an unlit cigarette pressed to his lips

"Can I get a cigarette?" Your heels clack loudly against the concrete as you step out onto the sidewalk.

Joost quickly whips his head toward you, ripping the cigarette from his mouth. Joost shakes his head, almost like he's in disbelief,

"What are you doing?" He's genuinely confused, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

You're taken aback by the force at which he asks, a tone he hadn't taken with you in awhile.

"Asking... for a cigarette?" It comes out more like a question, your eyebrows furrowed, words slow in equal confusion.

"No," He shakes his head again, "I mean in there- what was that about?" He raises a hand, vaguely gesturing towards the restaurant, "You have a boyfriend, remember?"

You do remember, unfortunately.

"So, I can't have a cigarette?" You ask slowly, your acute intoxication slipping its way into your words.

"Whatever," He scoffs, holding out his hand to give you the cigarette he was just about to smoke.

"Why are you being so weird?" You giggle, taking the cigarette from him, "Oh," You smile, "Can I get a light?"

"Jesus christ," His annoyance with the way you're playing dumb is apparent, and you know you won't be able to keep up the act forever. You bite the inside of your cheeks as he reaches his hands into his pockets, fumbling around for a lighter. It was naive of you to pretend like Joost wouldn't want to address the obvious elephant in the room.

You place the cigarette between your lips as Joost pulls out the lighter, his hand stretched out to pass it to you. You say nothing, only stick out your jaw slightly, the cigarette flicking upward. You want him to light it for you.

"You're evil," He clenches his jaw, his jaw line sharpening, cheeks hollowing, making the angular bones in his face more apparent. Still, Joost steps forward sightly, flicking the lighter against his thumb. A small orange flame erupts, and Joost lightly passes it to the end of your cigarette, holding the lighter there just long enough for it to light.

You inhale as Joost pulls the lighter back, you bring your hand to your lips, barely holding the cigarette between two fingers. The smoke fills your lungs, invading your senses as the warmth pricks at your throat.

You exhale, "That's not very nice." You frown.

"C'mon," Joost's expression suddenly changes, tilting his head to the side, he seems defeated, "Seriously, what are you doing?"

"I-" You think for a moment, "I don't know." You're equally as defeated now, the threat of having to cut things off with Joost is imminent. And it's what you should be doing, you should be giving Michael your undivided attention, its high time you should be leaving Joost in your past, where you know he belongs.

Your lips tremble as you push the cigarette back to them, the alcohol that once stripped you of your inhibitions suddenly making them so much worse.

"I don't understand you," Joost mutters, "You break up with me, you break my heart, decide you still want to fuck me for a year, then you run off, get a boyfriend, don't talk to me for over a month, and now all a sudden you're touching all over me under the dinner table like I'm the one you're going home with tonight, like you didn't break up with me a year ago."

It does sound bad when he puts it that way, your heart plummeting to your stomach under the heavy weight of guilt. You really fucked up this time.

"Joost-" You're cut off as the cigarette accidentally falls from your shaking hands. Shit. You force your gaze down to the pavement, unable to look at Joost as you crush the barely smoked cigarette under your shoe. "It's not that simple," Your voice is soft, barely returning the same confrontational tone he had given you.

Of course it isn't that simple. Why had he been acting like it was? As if you had broken up with him as a result of love lost between the two of you? As if you had just broken his heart for the fun of it? He of all people should know how hard it was for you to break up with him, what should have been a simple process turning into an hours long affair of you crying in each others arms, lamenting in how much you still loved him, and him desperately apologizing for not having given you everything you deserved.

"And you should know damn well how hard I tried to save our relationship, why else do you think I keep coming back?"

"Obviously you didn't try hard enough, or you wouldn't be here with another guy."

A strained laugh escapes your throat, amused by how absurd Joost is being now,

"No, Joost, you're the one who didn't try." You cross your arms across your chest, realizing just how cold the night air was, goosebumps littering your arms, "That's why we broke up in the first place, remember?" A year later and you still cannot escape the emotions of that night. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever be free from this feeling, or if you even want to be.

Emotions run high, and you can feel the tears brewing behind your eyes, threatening to spill with any sudden movement you make.

You blink once and a singular tear slips from your lash line, slowly caressing the curve of your cheek. Joost's expression suddenly changes, eyes widening, lips parting like he's about to speak.

"Hey, pumpkin," You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the pet name makes your stomach churn, overwhelming you with such disgust you temporarily forget Joost in front of you. A hand against your back accompanies the voice, finally making you turn to face it.

With a sniffle and a few blinks you push back the emotions, a smile pulling at your lips with a chipper voice to match,

"Michael," You beam, "What's up?"

"I am so sorry honey, but I just remembered I have an early meeting tomorrow," His voice is barely apologetic, and you don't quite understand what he's getting at.

"Oh-uh-okay?" You furrow your eyebrows, unsure of why he's apologizing for having a meeting.

"So I'm going to head out now, I already left some money for the bill, I'll talk to you in the morning, okay?"

"But I thought I was going to come to your-" Michael doesn't let you finish your sentence,

"I know, pumpkin, I'm sorry, I just think it's best you don't stay over tonight." He nods.

"Oh, but it's dark I don't want to-" You're cut off again,

"Don't be ridiculous sweetheart, you'll be okay, see you soon, mkay?" He smiles.

You're hesitant to even speak again, knowing if you say too much he'll probably cut you off again. "Sure," You pull your lips into a tight smile, nodding in an attempt to hide your disappointment. There go your plans for the night. "Right, see you later." You try your best to bare a grin.

"Okay, bye pumpkin," He leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying off, on his walk away he throws up a hand towards Joost, "Nice to meet you, buddy."

"Yeah, you too." Joost speaks slowly, though you're sure Michael doesn't even hear with the speed at which he walks away. You flick your eyes to Joost for a brief moment before immediately looking away, opting to no longer brave the cold and head straight for the restaurant bathroom.

You rush past the table your friends still sit at in the dimly lit restaurant, making your way to the back of the building. You fling over the bathroom door, a small relief washing over you when you realize it's only a singular stall before you lock the door behind you.

You place your hand above your eyes, pressing tightly as the tears begin to flow, all of your stupid decisions slapping you in the face at once. Unfortunately, your actions have consequences; and here you were, in a restaurant bathroom forced to bear the brunt of all of them now.

You had broken up with Joost to begin with, in part, to stop the arguing between you two. But it seemed like you could never help yourself, desperate to get Joost to see your side of things, a subconscious urge to finally get him to change, to get him to be the perfect boyfriend you had always dreamed him to be. You can only push so much, tonight being a sign that you were reaching the point where you can't push much more without things breaking.

You lift your hands from your eyes, and lean forward against the bathroom counter. Your hands press into the edge of the marble that surrounds the sink as you stretch your body towards the mirror, inspecting your face.

You're stained with the distinct mark of sadness, eyes now red, your face slightly puffy. You huff, allowing yourself, for just a moment to be grateful you had put on waterproof eyeliner tonight, saving yourself from a potentially greater mess on your face.

You watch yourself in the mirror intently, the glass reflecting back to you how truly pathetic you feel now. But you'll have enough time to feel pathetic once you get home, now, tonight, was about Julie, and it would be selfish of you to spend the rest of the night hiding out, smothering yourself in your own despair instead of celebrating your best friend.

You blink away the remaining tears in your eyes and gently press your fingers to your cheeks to rid the droplets from your skin. The fact you had been crying was apparent, but the restaurant was dark, and you hoped that the low mood lighting would be enough to hide that fact.

With a few deep breaths you're ready to unlock the bathroom door. The metal handle is cool under your shaky touch, you turn it, pulling back the door.

You jump back slightly when you realize there's someone standing behind it, the figure startling you, making your whole body jolt.

"Oh," You inhale sharply, recognizing the person behind the door as Joost, "Sorry, were you waiting for the bathroom? I'm gonna head back-" You speak quickly, head down anxious to get out of his way.

"Nee, I-" He grabs your arm lightly, not allowing you to leave the small corridor the bathroom was located in. He's about to say something else- but you look up at him, and his tone changes, "Oh," He sighs, not releasing his grip on your arm, in fact, only using it to bring you closer to him, "Tell me you weren't crying in there."

You assume he finally got to have that cigarette he wanted after he had given the first one to you, the familiar lingering scent of smoke and his cologne overwhelming your senses as he pulls you closer. The smell, a reminder of his proximity, should upset you, knowing you probably won't be able to enjoy it much longer, but your instincts kick in, and it's nothing but comfort.

"Joost," You start, placing your hand over where his grips your arm, ready to peel it off of you, "I'm okay, I really should be getting back to Julie."

"No, really," He tilts his head, "Tell me." You loosen your hand from where it rests on his, suddenly no longer so willing to part with his touch.

"I'm okay." Your voice a whisper now.

Joost stares down at you, and even now, you can't help but stare back at him. His pretty blue eyes are deep with emotion.

"I'm always doing that, hm?" There's a certain disappointment in his voice, as he moves closer to you, pressing his free hand to your cheek, "Making you cry?"

He's not entirely wrong, but you'd hate to admit it, much less admitting it to his face.

"I know you don't mean to," Your voice is soft, apologetic, like you're sorry for even crying in the first place, "Don't worry about it."

"I worry about everything," He chuckles, a poor attempt at lightening the mood, but it earns a small smile from you, and that's really all he can hope for. "But I was um- thinking I'll take you home? Just, you know, take the train with you, and shit."

"Oh-uh-"

"You can say no." He's quick to speak, "But I heard what Michael said, and I don't really like thinking of you going home by yourself so late."

It's thoughtful, even if he did just almost tear your heart out. You think for a moment, though it's not really necessary to, you already have an answer.

"That would be nice," You nod, "I'd like that."

Joost swipes his thumb against your cheek while he nods back to you, his opposite hand moving from its spot on your arm to snake around your back. His touch only solidifies the cycle you had found yourself tangled in for far too long, you upsetting one another to a point you shouldn't be able to return from, only to fall back in each others arms.

You know you should ask Joost to let go, to just accept his offer to take you home and leave it at that, and not let things go any further. But you'd be a liar to say you didn't love the way it felt when he touched you, the way even after all this time the feeling of his skin against yours still gives you butterflies in your stomach.

The two of you stare at each other silently until you let out a small giggle, realizing how weird it was for you to be sharing such a moment right outside the bathroom.

"I think we should probably head back to the table."

By the time you leave dinner you had regained that slight alcoholic buzz that the emotions of before had taken from you, a smile pressed on your lips as you waved your final goodbyes to your friends.

You turn towards the direction you should be heading, "ugh" You groan, realizing the journey ahead of you, it'll be at least another 45 minutes until you get home.

Another brisk wind blows past you, the prospective 45 minutes ahead of you suddenly feeling so much longer once you realize you'll be shivering for most of it.

"Cold?" Joost chuckles, watching you fold your arms across your torso, attempting to provide yourself with some heat.

"A little," You mumble.

"Mmm, I'm sorry," Joost hums, "Here," He begins sliding the black Ed Hardy zip-up he had been wearing off of his shoulders, revealing he had been wearing nothing but a T-shirt under the hoodie.

You hadn't asked for the sweatshirt, though you still feel a little bad taking it from him when he stretches an arm toward you, handing off the bunched up fabric.

"Are you sure?" You ask, glancing between the hoodie in his hands, and him.

"Yeah, you need it more, at least I'm wearing pants." He smiles, seeming happy enough to let you wear his sweatshirt. He had a fair point anyway, with you having chosen to forego any tights under your skirt tonight.

You slip your arms through the thick fabric, its soft inside immediately enveloping you in at least a little warmth. Joost's own body heat still lingers slightly in the material, a feeling you attempt to savor even as it quickly dissipates.

You're grateful for the slight warmth Joost's sweatshirt provides you, but it's still not enough, still shivering by the time you're on the train back home.

"Still cold?" Joost asks, though it's apparent the way you're folded in on yourself, trying to provide yourself with some heat.

You just hum in response, jaw too tight to talk.

"Oh," Joost coos, "Poor baby," He laughs, "Come here." He throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. Him calling you "baby" catches you off guard, though you're sure it's more mocking than it is meant to be romantic. Still, you don't dare to say anything about it.

"You're warm," You sigh as you rest your head on Joost's shoulder, face buried in his neck. His body gives off a good amount of heat, feeling more comfortable as his arms wrap around you.

You shouldn't enjoy this as much as you do, and no matter how cold you are you really shouldn't be doing this at all, not as long as Michael was in the picture. But the gentle smell of Joost's cologne is intoxicating, its familiar comfort enough to enjoy the moment without a care in the world.

You close your eyes and snuggle closer into Joost, wrapping your arms around his torso, allowing yourself to relax entirely in his embrace. You can feel his pulse gently thumping from your position against his neck, and truthfully you'd love nothing more than to press soft kisses to the pumping vein and stain his skin with your lipstick. You hate the way your mind betrays your morality, allowing yourself to get lost in these fantasies that you know are no good for you.

"Don't fall asleep on me here," Joost chuckles, lightly caressing your back.

"No promises," You mumble, feeling the vibrations of your speech against his neck.

Luckily for Joost, you hadn't fallen asleep, not leaving him with the burden of waking you up once you had arrived at your stop and dragging you home half asleep.

Instead, by the time you're unlocking your apartment door, you're wide awake, too overwhelmed with emotions to be anywhere near tired. As you turn the doorknob to enter your apartment you look back toward Joost who's standing behind you, looking a little unsure of himself.

"Do you want to come in?" You smile, "You can stay the night, it's kind of late." As soon as the offer leaves your tongue you know there's no going back now.

"You don't mind?" He asks.

"Of course not." The entrance to your apartment now stands as a door to probable bad decisions, ready to be opened. You push open the door, revealing your darkened living room.

Your hit with a wave of nerves as you step over the threshold and into the apartment, anxious for what the night has in store for you. The door lingers open for a few moments longer as Joost enters behind you.

You flick on some lights, illuminating the space around you in a pale yellow glow.

"I think I'm going to get ready for bed," You say lowly, still not tired, but you're unsure of what else to do, "Um," You start to speak again, "I won't make you sleep on the couch, I don't mind sharing the bed." You turn to Joost, shrugging. You secretly hope Joost doesn't decide to take the couch anyway.

"Cool," He grins, eyes scanning the apartment awkwardly.

"Good," Your voice just above a whisper, "Uh, you can make yourself comfortable then, I'll be back." You nod before heading to the bathroom, ready to get your makeup off of your face.

You unzip Joost's hoodie, hooking it on the back of the bathroom door, not wanting to get it wet while washing your face. You head toward the sink, turning the faucet, staring at yourself in the mirror while you wait for the water to warm up.

You sigh, using this alone time to think long and hard about how you want this night to end. Off the top of your head, you know how you want the night to end, the man you were once certain was the love of your life was most definitely making himself comfortable in your bed, it seemed like a no brainer of how you want this night to end.

But it's not so easy to throw away your morality completely, though maybe you've already made your bed by asking Joost to stay the night. Michael would be mad regardless, perhaps there's no point of turning back now. You clench your jaw, deciding you're willing to go however far Joost is.

Another fifteen minutes in the bathroom and you're stepping out feeling a little better, nerves quelled by your extensive nightly self-care routine. You breathe in as you open the bathroom door, your mouth tingling from your minty toothpaste as you take the air in. You exhale as you exit the bathroom, walking towards your bedroom.

The door is open, the room dimly lit by the glow of your TV, and the light that shines in from your balcony window.

Joost lays comfortably in your bed, his lower body resting beneath your thick comforter, it's like he belongs there, resting so casually as if it was his bed too.

"You can turn on a light you know," You smile, your voice pulling him away from whatever he had been watching on TV.

"Oh," He sits up from his position against the pillows, "I wasn't sure if you wanted it on." He rolls over slightly, stretching an arm out to turn on the lamp that sits on your bedside table.

With a faint click your room is cast in a soft orange hue. You take a look around the now illuminated space, realizing you had forgotten to straighten up before you left for the night, some clothes scattered around the floor from your frantic search for the "perfect" outfit.

"Sorry about the mess," An unnecessary shyness in your voice, as Joost had certainly seen your room in worse states.

"I didn't even notice," He chuckles, "Guess I added to it," His head cocking towards your dresser, the pants he had been wearing messily folded with the belt still in the loops sitting on top of it.

You don't respond, instead bending down to unbuckle the ankle strap on your shoes before sliding them off. There's a relief as your feet hit the floor, no longer stuck in the forced uncomfortable position from your high heels. You place your shoes off to the side and close your bedroom door behind you as you step further in.

You walk towards you dresser, thumbing through a mountain of clothes to find something to sleep in, pulling out a T-shirt that had no doubt belonged to Joost some time ago.

"You know, your boyfriend's kind of a dick." Joost speaks unprompted.

"What?" You laugh, shutting one of the drawers to the dresser before spinning around to face Joost.

"Sorry," He furrows his eyebrows, "That was uncalled for. I was- just thinking about tonight, what he said, about the music stuff- and leaving you at the restaurant."

"Oh," You frown, he's not wrong, but you should probably defend your boyfriend, "Michael is just-" Nothing comes to mind, you cannot muster any sort of actual defense, "Yeah, I guess he can be sort of a dick." Your tone becomes dejected, an unfortunate realization that maybe, once again, you had't picked the right man.

"Wow," Joost seems amused, "Never seen you so quick to admit I'm right."

"Shut up," You roll your eyes, playfully scolding him, "Anyways, it's his loss really that he didn't take me home tonight." You pause, taking the intrigue on Joost's face, the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows raise, eager to listen to your complaints, as he for once, was finally not the subject of them. "Bought some cute new lingerie, which I wore tonight, and now he doesn't get to see it." A careful smirk pulling at your lips, "What a waste."

Joost shakes his head, "Poor guy." despite his words it's clear he doesn't feel sorry for him, though, why would he, "But I mean-" He hesitates for a moment, "It doesn't have to be a waste."

"No?" You can feel your face grow hot, "What are you suggesting? That I go through the effort of posing for some pictures for him so he doesn't have to miss out?" You know he's not, but you need the confirmation.

Joost squints his eyes, shaking his head,

"I was actually, thinking of a different audience entirely."

"And that audience being..."

"Me."

"You?" The pair of you speak simultaneously

"Hmm," You pretend to think, as if this wasn't what you were hoping he'd say, "I'm sure you'll appreciate it more than he would anyway."

Joost nods fervently, as your hands fly to the hem of your shirt, quickly lifting the fabric over your head exposing the promised cute new bra. It was simple, black, lace, with a bow between the two cups, but you found it cute regardless, plus, it made your boobs look amazing.

A small smile on your face as you flick your eyes to Joost, who's now sitting up a little higher on the pillows, clearly amused, waiting on edge to see the matching panties. You continue to stare him down as you very slowly pull down the zipper on the back of your skirt.

"Need any help with that?" Joost raises an eyebrow, the question is purely rhetorical but you know he'd love nothing more right now than to get his hands on you.

"No, I think I got it." The zipper reaches as far down as it can go, the skirt loosening at your waist. You do the extra work to pull it over your thighs before letting it slip down past your knees to your ankles, kicking it off to the side.

The panties are just as simple as the bra, a plain black thong with a lacy trim, with a bow in the middle of the waist band to match.

Joost squints, "Oh, you know my eyesight is bad, come closer."

A slight giggle leaves your mouth as you scurry over to the bed in excited anticipation. You stand over where Joost lies now, biting down on your tongue so hard you're sure you'll draw blood. Joost's eager eyes swallow you whole, taking in every inch of your newly exposed body.

Joost sits up all the way, the comforter that once covered him slipping down his chest and into his lap. He swings his legs over so they hang off the bed before reaching out a hand, gently placing it on your hip,

"Oh, schatje," He mumbles, his thumb moving back and forth, gently caressing your skin. Every time Joost touched you like this it felt like the first, your muscles tensing under him. He slides his hand up your torso so it rests on your waist, groping your lightly. "Je bent zo mooi," (you look so beautiful) His eyes find yours, making sharp, and direct eye contact with each other as a smirk forms upon his lips, "I'll almost feel bad taking all this off of you."

"Taking it off me?" You gasp, pretending to be offended by his insinuation.

"No?" He asks, raising an eyebrow like it's a challenge.

"Yeah- I mean, It's kind of unfair, y'know, talking about getting me undressed when you're still pretty clothed."

"What?" He teases, "You want me naked, schatje?"

"Mmm," You purse your lips, "I didn't say that, just if I'm gonna stand here in nothing but my underwear, maybe you should have to take something off too."

"You don't drive much of a hard bargain." Joost smiles, his hands already eager to tear off his shirt, "But that's probably because I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?" You bite your lip, deep down you wish it was as true as he says it is now, just about anything seems like a more apt estimation. He'd do anything but be emotionally present when you need it, anything but listen to you when you say there's a problem in your relationship, anything but engage in healthy communication.

But now's not the time to worry about that, to worry about the past, or the future, not when Joost is undressing in front of you, pulling his black T-shirt over his head, messing up his already unruly blond hair.

The second his flesh is exposed you're already aching to put your hands all over him, yearning for the feeling of his soft skin below your hands.

"Better," The ends of your mouth pull upward in content,

"Don't think so," Joost pouts before looking down at himself, "I don't think we're even, I think... my chest is pretty exposed and you're still very... covered." He looks back at you, waving his hand in a circle as he gestures towards your bra.

"You're ridiculous," You let out a small laugh at the way Joost plays your game.

"No, just being fair," He grabs your hand, pulling you closer so you stand between his legs, "Like you say." He leans forward, placing a kiss just below your belly button, his hands moving to settle on the backs of your thighs, keeping you close to him.

"Right," You smile, "Fair." Your hands crawling up your sides, reading towards your back, quickly fumbling around with the clasp of your bra before unhooking it.

Joost looks up from where he's pressed against your stomach, watching with intent as you slide the straps down your arms, and eventually discarding the bra all together.

You're not as ashamed as you should be, standing in front of Joost like this, in fact, you rather like the way he drinks you in, wordlessly admiring you, devouring your frame with hungry eyes.

"C'mon," Joost pulls away from you, his hands leaving your thighs, "Lay down with me?"

You nod, stepping back from where you stand between his legs so he can crawl back into your bed, shifting to the middle of the mattress. You follow shortly after, crawling on top of the blankets, before making your way to Joost.

Immediately you're straddling him, your knees on either side of him as you sit on his thighs. You try to keep your eyes trained on his face, and pretend not to notice the rest of him, or the way he's beginning to strain against the tight confines of his underwear. But you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling similarly to him now, a familiar pulsing in your inner thighs, thumping heavily, muscles tight.

"Here," Joost motions with both hands for you to come closer, to rest your bare chest against his. It's an offer you'd be stupid not to accept, leaning forward, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. As you lean down, Joost's lips meet yours, enveloping you in a kiss so soft if it hadn't been coming from your ex, it would be romantic.

Or perhaps that fact had made it more romantic. Regardless you were lost in the way his lips worked slowly against yours, the two of you in perfect rhythm. You straighten your legs so you're laying completely on top of him. Joost's hands move to your waist, helping to position your hips. Your mouth opens slightly, gasping against Joost's lips once you finally feel him put you in the perfect position, the growing bulge in his underwear now right under your crotch.

"Right there," He mumbles before his mouth melts back into yours. You push your hips forward finding some friction between yours and Joost's bodies. You're pathetic, pathetic for him, but it's hard to care, not when he slips his tongue past your lips, hungrily exploring your mouth. Not when he holds your hips so tight his fingertips are sure to bruise your flesh, pulling you down towards him, letting you feel the full extent to how badly he needed you.

You roll your hips forward, your clit grinding against, what you assume is the tip of his now hardened cock. Joost groans into the kiss, clearly enjoying the sensation. By now the two of you would usually be scrambling to get each other naked, but the extra clothing, and the lack of penetration almost makes things more intimate. Joost turns his head for a moment to pull back from the kiss,

"Tell me if we start to take things too far." His voice is strained, and the slow caress of his thumb against your lower back ensuring how genuine each word he spoke was, "Promise?"

"Promise," You whisper.

Truthfully you were long past the point of "taking things too far", having already crossed a line when you decided to tease him under the table at the restaurant. This, now, was borderline unacceptable, fuck that, it was unacceptable- but neither of you seem to mind, Joost almost eager to be a "home wrecker", and you denying that you and Michael even had a home to wreck.

Despite how immoral this may be, you need more of Joost, the death grip he has on your hips has you moving far too slow for your complete and utter desperation.

"Faster," You sigh against Joost's lips, hoping he'll listen rather than using your request to tease you. Joost's hands move just below your ass, his blunt fingernails ripping into the backs of your thighs, spreading them further apart. With his new position you're able move more on your own, able to stimulate yourself more. Pushing your knees into the soft mattress, you begin to rut your hips faster, increasing the friction between you.

As hard as you try to keep a consistent pace, the burning desire in your core and the slick of your arousal make it almost impossible, unable to keep up with your own need.

"You like it like this?" Joost asks, almost breathless, a cockiness in his voice that tells you he already knows the answer.

"Mmhm," You hum lazily, letting your head drop from where you had been holding it up above Joost's, down to his shoulder. You're impossibly drunk off the way you feel, the way with each roll of your hips your clit grinds so perfectly against the length of Joost's cock. It's mind numbing how perfect you fit together, even stifled through your remaining clothes, you're filled with such pleasure.

You dig your fingers into the sides of Joost's arms, fingernails sure to leave little crescent moon shaped markings in his skin. You wish you could pull him closer, still feeling like there is a distance that needs to be closed between the two of you despite your position on top of him.

You clench your jaw, muscles tight at the way your body strains for him. Joost lets one hand climb up your thigh, palm now resting on the curve of you ass, before his fingernails return to your flesh, groping harshly, forcing you to grind harder against his cock. It's apparent that being away from each other for as short as a month was far too long.

You want to hold out for as long as possible, not wanting this feeling to fade, for it to be over in as quick as a few seconds as your orgasm rains over you- but its not so easy as the tightness builds between your thighs, and your movements become even sloppier than they were before.

You're a complete mess the way you whimper into the side of Joost's neck, only egged on by his obvious pulse thumping against your swollen lips.

Joost's own groans don't help holding you off from your impending climax, knowing how good this feels for him too, and that he's just as desperate for you as you are from him is just all too much for your brain to handle.

You know you're close when your legs start to tremble, and its not so easy to push yourself back and forth anymore,

"Tired already?" Joost teases, "Need me to help you?" He wraps two strong arms around your lower back, taking it upon himself to replicate your movements. Joost also thrusts his hips forward in time with you, only making your stimulation more intense.

"So good," The full breadth of you vocabulary seems to disappear, only able to slur together a few measly words to let Joost know how you were feeling, "Feels so good."

"I know it does," He sighs, "You close, schatje? Your legs are shaking."

"Very close," You screw your eyes tight, the hot simmering in your core about to turn over and reach its boiling point. Each and every one of your muscles are incredibly tight, bracing for your impending orgasm.

Joost holds you tighter upon hearing how close you were, determined to work you through your orgasm.

"Whenever you're ready," He encourages.

You could almost break a tooth with how tight your jaw is clenched, nothing but strained whines clawing their way out of your throat as you approach your climax.

The idea of cumming in your panties is a little embarrassing, but in the way that instead of making you want to crawl inside of your self in shame, it makes you only that much closer to finishing. Especially when combined with the filthiness of the fact you'll be ruining those panties over a different man than the one you bought them for. Joost had a habit of brining out the worst in you in the best ways, and now was no different.

"Joost," Your jaw finally unclenches in order for you to get one final word desperate out before your orgasm strikes you. A hot pang of electricity cracks throughout your entire body.

Joost's grip on you does not let up as you ride out your high, his voice nothing but a dull mumble of praises, "Ja, dat is het" (yeah that's it)

You continue to thrust against Joost until you're throbbing with overstimulation, gasping for air against Joost's neck.

"Is that all you got for me?" Joost asks, his words are lighthearted, not minding if you're too tired to continue for the night.

But you're not ready for the night to end, not so abruptly, just like that.

"Just," You inhale, your chest rising against Joost's, "Catching my breath." Exhale.

"Yeah," Joost laughs, high, and light- almost a giggle, "You were working pretty hard."

"Hmm," You hum, "You helped, a little." Acknowledging your orgasm was mainly due to your own work.

"I don't think that's enough," Joost pauses to place a kiss to the crown of your head, "Why don't you lay on your back so I can give you some real effort."

You peel yourself off of Joost's chest, bodies lightly sticky with sweat. You roll over, lightly thumping onto the mattress, landing on your back. Joost wastes no time in getting on top of you, perched on his hands and knees above you. A sight you had gotten used to by now, but it had never gotten less thrilling.

His unruly blonde locks spill over his forehead, some strands sticking against his skin with perspiration. His pupils are blown wide, looking like he's been rolling on molly, but his drug of choice tonight is you, your mere presence getting him higher than the finest pills or powder money could buy.

A lazy smirk draws across his swollen pink lips, a chuckle falling from them as they part,

"Don't laugh if I don't last too long," He jokes, bending his arms to lean forward and kiss your forehead, "You got me a little worked up."

"A little?"

"Very," He sighs in feigned defeat, "You drive me fucking crazy."

"Yeah, both in and out of the bedroom I'm sure." You grin, allowing yourself for just a moment to laugh at the ridiculousness of the antics you often pulled with Joost.

"Mhm," He nods, "But I probably deserve it."

"At least you're self aware, acceptance is the first step to recovery."

"Shut up," He laughs

"Make me," So cliche, You giggle.

It's a challenge Joost takes seriously, immediately catching your lips in another passionate kiss, rendering you unable to speak. You lift your arms, wrapping them around Joost's neck, pulling him down closer to you as you return his kiss.

He pulls away for a split instant, your arms falling to your side with a gentle thud.

"You're sure you want this?" His words are cautious, "We don't have to-"

"I wanna," You cut him off, "I want you." Emphasizing how badly it's him you want.

"In that case," He lifts himself from you, propped up on his knees as his hands reach for the waistband of his underwear. His fingers hook into the elastic, stretching it out slightly before pulling them down his thighs. You watch in anticipation as his cock springs free from the confines of the fabric. You shift your gaze between Joost's face and his dick, the tip a throbbing shade of red, leaky with pre-cum.

You curl your pointer finger towards you, beckoning for Joost to come closer as you prop yourself up on the pillows.

"How about we get these out of the way," Joost suggests, his hands finding their way into the elastic waistband of your panties. You nod, urging him to take them off, which he wastes no time doing.

As your panties come off you bend your legs, putting yourself on complete display for Joost. He grips the base of his cock in his palm, stroking up and down its shaft a few times, stopping at the tip momentarily to spread the clear pearl of precum that leaks from his slit around the head.

"Am I just supposed to stare while you jerk yourself off, or are you going to fuck me?" You tease.

"Patience is a virtue, schatje." He chastises, shaking his head back and forth.

"Fuck patience, I need you inside me." You whine, feeling your arousal growing once again at the anticipation of what's to come next.

"Fuck patience is right," He sighs, realizing what's in front of him.

Joost leans forward slowly to hover over you once more, his face close enough to you that the heat of his heavy breath is almost suffocating. You bite your lip, spreading your legs just a bit more, ready for him.

Joost's eyes trail down from your eyes to between your legs, ready to line himself up with your entrance, admiring every part of you along the way.

With the base of his cock held firmly in his hands, Joost sloppily pushes the tip through your soaked folds, collecting your arousal. You whine slightly, your whole body jerking as he passes your clit, still puffy and overstimulated from before.

Finally he lines himself up with your entrance, eyes flicking up towards you in search of a final nod of assurance, which you gladly give to him.

He pushes into you slowly, almost too slow, allowing you to feel all of him, every vein and curve as he enters you. You hold your breath as you wait for him to enter you completely, the way you stretch around him familiar yet incredibly overstimulating in your current state.

"You okay?" He exhales

"Y-yeah, keep going, please." You assure, nodding quickly.

Joost finally bottoms out, lingering fully inside of you before pulling most of the way out just as painfully slow,

It takes a few strokes for Joost to build up a pace, but once he does he's leaning over you once more. You raise both of your palms to his shoulders, gripping onto them for a split moment before sliding them down to his chest, running your hands over the tuft of dirty blonde hairs.

With each careful thrust into you, your breathing becomes heavier, your brain foggier, purely overwhelmed with the pleasure that is Joost.

"I missed this," Joost groans, "Fuck," He curses, pointed and sharp, "-'m'I gonna have to go another month without you after this? Don't know if I can handle that."

Having already crossed such a line in your relationship with Michael, it seemed unnecessary to deprive yourself of continuing to see Joost in this capacity again.

"Mmno," You slur, "Can have this whenever you want, whenever you want. Every day even."

"Every day, baby?" He raises an eyebrow, "What's the matter? Michael can't make you cum like I do?"

"Or at all," You sigh,

"Oh," Joost's expression is suddenly pained, "Not at all?"

"Barely." You clarify, not quite sure of why the topic of Michael is even being brought up during sex.

Joost lowers his head to your jaw, pressing open mouth kisses to your skin. His tongue is wet and warm, it's soothing, the sensation making you exhale in pure bliss.

"Just using me to cum then, hm?" His question not entirely serious.

"Oh shut up," You giggle, "That's what my fingers are for."

Joost places another sloppy kiss to your jaw before speaking again,

"And I don't suppose you're thinking of Michael when you're doing that?"

"Not exact-ly," You admit, the inflection of your voice raising on the last syllable as Joost begins to thrust into you harder.

"Care to enlighten me on what you do think about?" His voice leads you to believe he's confident that he's the one you think about when trying to get off, and of course, he's right.

"This, right here," You admit, breathing labored with Joost's sharp thrusts. "You," You swallow down a moan, "Fucking me." You bite your lip, "And when I don't feel like faking an orgasm, I imagine its you fucking me instead of Michael."

"Fuck, liefje," Joost lets out a low groan, "Gonna make me cum right now saying shit like that to me."

"Well it's true," You respond innocently, "Never gonna find anyone else like you." And part of you never wants to, Joost such a unique part of your life you'd never want to replace, no matter how rocky things have a habit of becoming between you.

Both of you cease to speak, no more sly remarks to make to each other, rather your bedroom filled only by the borderline pornographic noises you and Joost made together. The filthy wet slapping that bounced off the walls with each thrust, you whispered moans, and Joost's strained grunts instead filling the dead air.

You slide your hands towards Joost's neck, pressing down with your palms, careful not to choke him out, only wanting to feel him under you.

Joost seems like he's struggling to keep pace, his arms wavering on either side of you, signaling he was probably getting close, you're not far behind, but you can't help be disappointed, wishing this moment could last forever.

At this point, Joost knew your body by memory, knowing just where to thrust and at what pace to have you squirming and whimpering under him. And he was putting that knowledge to plenty good use now, the sound of your moans getting louder, and more unruly with each roll of his hips forward was music to his ears.

You feel your muscles tighten once more, already aching and sore from your prior activities, yet you don't let the strain distract you from your building climax. You know you won't be able to last much longer, not with the perfect angle Joost thrusts into you at, so deep with each stroke, and so delicately brushing over your sensitive clit every time he pulls out and subsequently dips back into you.

You keep your eyes trained on Joost for stability, watching the way his face contorts with each perfect thrust forward. He's pretty, almost impossibly so, in a way that makes it hard to care how frequently he seemed to make a mess of your life- it was all worth it, just to see that pretty face above you like this.

"You're staring," He can barely laugh, too out of breath, though he tries. Joost had always been amused by your infatuation with him, and even more so he loved to watch how shy you got when he called you out on it.

Your skin is hot, and not just from the obvious physical activity, it's a warmth that radiates from inside of you, burning every nerve. You let your head fall to the side, a sheepish smile stuck on your lips.

"Don't shy away from me, I'd like to stare at you too." He whines, coaxing you to look back at him.

Your eyes reach his once again, and you notice how his lips part in a deep gasp, ready to speak

"I'm close," His eyes screwing shut for a moment, "Do you want me to pull out?"

He'd never asked before, it had never been a problem, knowing full well you were on the pill.

"Huh-" You huff, "No"

"Just making sure," He speaks through gritted teeth, "Don't wanna be knocked up with another man's baby."

"Oh be quiet," You scold, realizing how badly you choosing to do this with him while you were with Michael had Joost reeling, obviously getting off on it. Getting off on the fact for what felt like for once in his life, he was the better man, and that he was obviously irreplaceable in your life.

"Fuck, schatje," He grunts, "You okay if I cum now?" Not like there was much of a choice, he didn't really have control over that sort of thing,

"Please," You plead, wanting nothing more than to take him to completion.

With a few sharp thrusts, ones that so deliciously hit that perfect spot inside of you, ones that leave you yelping so loud you're sure the neighbors will hear, Joost is spilling into you. His warm release coats your walls.

The feeling makes you clench, Joost sucking in a sharp breath at the way you grip him with his lingering thrusts. His hips sputter forward, sharply ramming into you, this one final move enough to set off your own expectant orgasm.

"Joost!" Your hands leave his neck, flying down to the bed to grab the comforter below you, gripping it harshly between your fingers for stability. Your whole body is overwhelmed by pleasure, and you begin to loose control, legs shaking, body squirming, noises you couldn't even know you could make leaving your lips. You're a complete mess, probably looking more like you're having an exorcism than having sex. But you can't help yourself, it's all too much, and feels all too good. "I'm-" You can't even finish your sentence before the walls of your pussy begin to flutter, your own release spilling out of you, mixing with Joost's to paint his cock with his few final lazy strokes.

Once your orgasm finally rolls over you, Joost is collapsing onto your chest, the pair of you desperate to catch your breaths. You release your grip from the comforter, fingers sore are you flex them, loosing them from their tightened position.

You know the impending wave of guilt is bound to crash into you at any moment, but at least for now you feel nice, Joost's hot, sweaty body atop you is a comforting weight, despite the way it slows your breathing.

You wrap your arms around his back, his skin sticky with perspiration, but you don't mind the way it feels, only wanting to be close to him. He's not quite ready to pull out of you yet, and you're not ready to let him go, instead both of you opt to enjoy the moment, letting your shallow breaths fill the room with eyes shut tight.

You press a kiss to Joost's forehead, unable to stop yourself from the mildly romantic gesture. It's clear Joost doesn't mind, placing a kiss to your shoulder from where his head lies on you.

After a few more minutes of embracing like this, Joost slowly begins to peel himself off of you. You watch intently as he lifts himself up, hair in every which direction, eyelids low, face heavy with lingering pleasure. You want nothing more than to pull him back down on you and stay like that, but you really need to catch your breath.

Carefully, Joost begins to pull out of you, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, a strangled whine leaving your throat.

"Sorry," Joost apologizes, finally pulling out of you completely. The way you can feel his release spilling out of you, onto your thighs makes you wince, a filthy reminder of what you had done. Joost most definitely notices the look on your face, backing off of the bed, "Hold on, I'll clean you up."

You assume Joost had run off to the bathroom, coming back a few moments later with a towel, gently patting it between your thighs, careful not to overstimulate you further.

"Gonna go onto the balcony for a smoke" He says, standing back up to redress himself in his underwear, "Want me to close the door behind me so it doesn't get cold in here?"

"It's okay," You sigh, finally having the strength to sit up. Your abdomen and legs are sore, letting you know tomorrow will be a challenge, "Just means you'll have to cuddle me when you get back in."

"Perfectly okay with that," He chuckles before heading to open up to the small balcony on the other side of your room.

A small breeze enters the room as the doors open, and soon the scent of smoke follows. The chill makes you want to hide under the covers, but something is pulling you to go out there with him. You quickly get up from the bed, fighting the cold as you scramble to put on the shirt you had picked out before and a new pair of underwear.

The cold of the outside fully hits you as you step onto the balcony, but it's hard to mind with Joost half-naked in front of you.

"You want a smoke?" He asks

"No, I'm good." You shake your head, "Just wanted to-" Your voice is soft as you wrap your arms around Joost's torso. He's still so warm despite the weather outside. He wraps his free arm behind you, pulling you close to him.

"That's alright," He mumbles into your hair, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You find comfort in the slow thump of your heart, and this way his chest rises and falls each time he takes a drag of his cigarette. You wish things with Joost could be like this all the time, though really you knew this was the calm before the next storm.

It's nice to pretend, though, at least for now. Pretend he's still your boyfriend, and that everything had worked out between the two of you like it should have.

"You alright, liefje? You're being nicer to me than usual." His slight laughter vibrates against your cheek from where it's pressed to your chest, making you snuggle into him.

You know he's joking but it makes you feel a little bad, knowing you can be harsh on him over the smallest things sometimes.

"I don't know," You sigh, overwhelmed with emotion once more, "I think that- I don't know." You repeat, "Confused."

"I am too."

"I'm sorry." You know it's your fault just as much as it is his.

"Me too."

"I think I still love you." You don't think, you know, but you feign like you're unsure to make it less real.

"Schatje," He coos, rubbing his hand over your back.

"Am I crazy to think you might still love me too?"

"Not at all." He presses another kiss to your head, "I know I love you too."

You dread the moment when you'll have to return back to real life, the reality where Joost is nothing more than an ex boyfriend, and you're with Michael- but for now things are good. Joost will wake you up with head in the morning, and after you'll go to that breakfast place you like around the corner, still in your pajamas. The two of you will sit next to each other in the booth, and hold hands under the table before heading home to share a shower together. And inevitably as the day grows later, one of you will make the smallest slip up, say one wrong thing, and you'll be at each others throats again, ending the day crying, finally ignoring each other until its time to repeat the cycle over again.

But that was a problem for tomorrow, right now you're in his arms, and he's telling you how much he still loves you, and you can pretend for just a moment, that maybe, just maybe things will change.

a/n: weeee i wasn't expecting this to get so long XD......... <3 but im so excited to finally get this out... mwah mwah <3... if you're feeling kind, leave a comment or a reblog to let me know what you think! thank you :3

[wiltedivinity]

ıllıㅤ𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ; all you saw was red. the blood in his hands, the blood on their bodies, the blood on your own, and the color of the roses you're engulfed in. he wondered at the fact on how far you've brought yourself to get away from him, physically and emotionally, knowing you won't even get to escape a few meters. but you wondered... why?

ㅤ⨯ if any of the following trigger you, please click off: dead dove: do not eat ; non-con ; female!reader ; violence ; (minor character) deaths ; assault ; possessiveness ; yandere themes ; choking ; toxic & unhealthy relationships ; forceful actions ; suggestive themes ; semi-smut ; threats & insults ; angsty? ; childe is an asshole ; not proofread

ㅤ⨯ archive :: taglist :: inbox / appeal information :: 18+ ONLY

Why… Why… Why… You wanted to ask. You wanted to scream out till’ your lungs give you in. Your feet were planted on the ground firmly, refusing to move an inch as you watch the Harbinger pierce his blades into the chest of your mother repeatedly, the water of his weapon slowly being stained with dark blood, blood that’s mixed with different victims that have witnessed his wrath. Including yours. You eye the wound on your arm, the red liquid was still dripping and staining the ground under you. “Why…” it barely even came out as a whisper, more like a simple breath of the wind most people would ignore but not to him. What can you expect from a man that made You, a person he should have cared less for, his main priority in his life.

“Why…?” you sobbed out, bringing your head up from the floor to find him staring right back at you. The Harbinger stands up and carelessly lays your mother figure to the ground before kicking it out of his sight, dissipating his water blades into thin air as blood continues to stain him and maybe you in the process. “‘Why,’ you ask?” Childe hums, making his way towards you, raising his hand to meet your cheek but you slap it away before he could even touch. “Answer me.” you grit your teeth at the man who was smiling sadistically at you.

“Wow, what a feisty girl. Didn’t know you had it in you, love.” he chuckles, his hand coming in contact with your hand, gripping it and dirtying it with mixed blood. You groan and pull your hand away from his grasp and land a hit on his face. You leave him breathless for a second before his pupils dilated, touching the very spot you slapped him on and caressing it. “You’ve changed quite a lot.”

“I could say the same for you, Tartaglia.” you scoot away from him, your fists clenching in case he makes another move on you. He simply just laughs, each breath he takes, his laughter goes lower and lower until he is glaring at you with that very same sinister grin on his face. “As much as everything you do makes me breathless,” he says through his smile, “You speaking my codename isn’t it. Change that up, hun.”

“Nothing you do will make me change what I feel about you.” A hint of resentment was visible in your eyes, your pupils decreasing its usual size. You tried… Tried to seem threatening but to him he adored it. Even if you managed to intimidate him, he wouldn’t really back out, can he? He knows he’s stronger. He’s a survivor of the Abyss, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Even if he was the Eleventh, the title of being a Harbinger alone is impressive and shows a symbol of great power and strength.

“You think so?” Childe sniggers. “I know so.” you reply boldly, attempting to stand back up only to get knocked down by the stomach by Childe’s elbow, “Oh, we’re not done yet. You’re staying here until our business is done.” you glare at his response, what does this man mean by business? If he means torturing you more than you know that seeing your family die before your eyes is more than torture. You attempt to dart away from him if standing wasn’t an option but he stops you by gripping your ankle.

“Get your fucking hand away from me, Tartaglia.” you sneer but it doesn’t stay for longer when he has his hand around your neck and pins you down, using it as a leverage. You can see his eyes darkening from your lips simply saying his title. “Like I said… You’re staying here until our business is done, [Y/N].” he emphasized with a growl at the end of the sentence as he quickly squeezed your throat. You felt the wetness in the corners of your eyes drip as he pushed you further into the ground. Eyes widening instantly when you realize he’s blocking your airway by choking you, his grip on your neck was unbearably tight and if he continued to stay like this you would–

You can’t breathe, you’re letting out panic and quick pants from your mouth as you try to get his grasp from your throat by pulling his wrist away but he’s stronger… You know that. So why not give up? You don’t want to. You can’t either. You try to kick him off with your legs punching his gut, Childe only groaned and laughed. “Hah,” he sighs, but that quickly turns into loud laughter.

“Haha!” he jests, pushing you on the floor as your consciousness slowly slips away from you. “Go on! Keep trying, it makes the job easier. Just look at you, turning blue from my hand around your throat.” he muses, a grin forming on his face sinisterly. You want to argue, but not in this situation. You could barely breathe and voicing out your thoughts will worsen. But in the end, you’d faint from the loss of breath and he would win in the end. He can easily overpower you anytime he wants. That’s a perk of being a Harbinger trained under an unknown woman from the Abyss.

“Sleep well. I’ll be waiting.” he coos lowly, your eyelids drooping lower as you let out your last breath before you faint. Once you do, he slowly pulls his grasp around your throat and admires the handprint on it. A nice dull, desaturated red. Almost the color of the blood of his opponents. Childe brings your unconscious body into his embrace and carefully stands up, looking back to see the limp figures of your family members laying on the floor, all bloodied and dismembered from his hold. If he could be honest, it was their fault, they disapproved of him ever since he was a member of the Fatui and the idea of their precious daughter to get associated with him was something they’d never want. You were okay in keeping contact with him and didn’t think much of his status. But that didn’t go through with your family. They even go as far as to separate the two of you and cut all ties with his family in order to keep you safe and away from him.

Oh what a bad decision they made.

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.

.

Your eyes groggily open, and your body twitches beneath the mattress you were sleeping on. Your hand tries to touch your brow, but something prevents it. You examined your wrists and discovered that it was connected to the headboard of the bed, leaving you vulnerable and unable to move. You struggle under the restraints, desperate to be freed but a door has already been opened before you could move any further. "Ah, you're awake," says a familiar voice from the other side of the room, as footsteps approach your bed.

“I hope you don’t mind the chains. I didn’t want you escaping so this was a better alternative!” A glee came from Childe, that broad and boyish smile of his not wavering one bit when he sees your harsh glare. “Let me go,” you growl, shuffling on the bed aggressively but it only worsens the pain on your wrists.

“Oh come on, don’t get mad at me now. Be thankful you got chained in my bedroom instead of something much brutal.” He grabs your chin to stop you from moving too much, his grip is tight, one wrong breath and he’ll tighten it more so you sit still.

All of the sudden, his grin widens, but not in a good way. “Or maybe you’d like what I originally planned more.” The dark glint on his eyes becomes evident, “But let’s get you fed first. It’s been hours since you’ve passed out and you must be starving after that long!” And it switches up all too suddenly. It’s as if the man forgot that he kidnapped you and did monstrous things to your family.

He then places the tray on a desk near the bed. Childe eyes the handcuffs on your hand and shrugs, “You’ll get used to this.” He assures you, taking the hot, steaming bowl of soup and placing it near your face, the spoon already scooping the broth and placing it in front of your lips.

“Come on. Say ‘ahh’” the ginger-head instructs, blowing air on the spoonful of stew so you’re able to consume it. You wanted to protest but your stomach grumbles before you can do so, making the harbinger chortle. “Might as well open your mouth. It’ll make things easier for you… And your stomach.” He points out.

You purse your lips, shaking your head. This causes Childe to frown heavily, “You really are stubborn, aren’t you?” His jaw clenches, “You’re lucky I’m a patient man. Now, eat.” He shakes his hand, a little too aggressively but not enough to spill the bouillon. “No,” You furrow your brows, turning your head away from the spoon. “You heard me the first time.” You argued back, your fists already clenched. You would’ve thrown a punch on him if you could if it weren’t for the handcuffs.

“You really don’t know who you’re messing with, [Y/N].” The way he spoke your name was strong, almost intimidating. “I can shut the fucking mouth of yours if I wanted to. Hell, I’ll do that right now.” Childe smiles grimly, the sinister gleam on his eyes shine, the hand that was holding the spoonful of soup placed inside of his mouth, his free hand clutching onto your shirt and pulling you raspingly into his lips, forcing you to drink in the hot liquid.

You feel his tongue penetrate through your lips, forcing them open. Your chin was trapped between his fingers and he uses this to tilt your head backwards so you can drink the broth that he pours. You feel yourself coughing into Childe’s lips but he doesn’t budge one bit, only pushing you down the mattress with his arm behind your neck. Your attempts in pushing away were fruitless, so your only choice was biting his lip until it bled.

Fortunately that worked, though he didn’t pull away instantly. He let his tongue explore your mouth before doing so, it seems like he was enjoying how the soup tastes mixed with his blood. Childe lets out a few breaths before looking down at you, the corners of his mouth still stained with a bit of red liquid and dried up broth. “Don’t you think I’m done with you. You barely finished a portion of the soup.” He chuckles, his hand making its way to the bowl to scoop more fluid into his mouth until your foot kicks his thigh, making him freeze and look towards you.

“I-I’ll eat… Just not from your mouth.” You try to reason with him but he continues to drink up the liquid, his cheeks puffing a bit from the soup taking up the space inside of his mouth. You just know that he wasn’t going to do it your way by the way he’s leaning down on you and pressing his lips against yours. Pouring in whatever he has in your mouth yet again. You furrow your brows as tears flow down your cheeks, the taste is bitter. It leaves a bad taste on your tongue and a fog in your mind.

.

.

.

You pant heavily, your chest was visibly rising from up and down as you stare up at Childe without breaking eye contact. The man didn’t show one bit of remorse for what he’s done to you. That shit-eating grin that was spread across his face shows it. He shuffles and rises up from the bed, taking the half-eaten bowl of soup before walking away. The moment he’s at the door, he turns his head to look back at you, eyes watching you from head-to-toe before nodding and walking away, seemingly amused.

You shake on Childe’s bed, throwing your head back as you sob. What have you fucking gotten into? Your eyes are squinted tight, your wrists are still painfully wounded from how forceful Childe was when handling your body not too long ago when you’re trying to set them free from the chains. To set yourself from things getting worse. You couldn’t stop wiggling your body on the mattress in an attempt to loosen yourself from the handcuffs.

This could’ve ended differently… Maybe if you knew and saw the red flags in his letter or the way he acted when he was around you, you would’ve escaped. But you should doubt that. The man’s a Harbinger, a child who fell into the Abyss, a striving and unmatched warrior and most importantly, a manipulative companion who always gets what he wants. And you being a long-time friend only worsens it since the both of you knew each other more deeply than anyone else. He knew your weaknesses, your likes, dislikes and everything.

And you don’t know any of his weaknesses. It was hard to guess. You only knew a few and it was you. But being his weakness also means being his strength, you know how you get him. You were his source of motivation. If you weren’t then he wouldn’t be torturing people to tell him about your whereabouts ever since your family cut ties with him.

“Don’t sleep on me now~ We still have yet to clean you up!” Childe chimes in the room once again, a towel in his hand as he approaches and kneels on the floor. His arms are on the mattress of the bed, his head firmly placed in between them as he stares at you. “I haven’t bathed you properly and seeing the stains on your shirt, you wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in something dirty, right?” He attempts to sway you. “I may be a bad guy, but I’m no monster.” You wanted to laugh. What the actual fuck does he mean by that?

You decide not to protest. You were too tired to do so and your lips could barely sound out a breath. “Good girl.. You’ve finally learned your lesson!” Childe grins at the wig hut of your tired face, the blush on your cheeks evident from the messy and hard kisses he’s been giving you. He trails his finger on them, slowly moving them downwards until they reach your neck, carefully grasping it, causing you to choke on your deep breaths.

“Good girls deserve rewards, correct?” Childe tilts his head with that stupid grin on his face. He must be proud at how much of a mess he’s made out of you. How much control he has over you. He knows you know it, he’s laughing to himself right now. “So let me reward you..” His smile drops, as well as his voice.

He didn’t waste a millisecond to bring his right arm under your knees and his left arm beneath your back. Shaking you a bit so that you wouldn’t sleep when he bathes you. “Stay awake for me, pretty. Don’t want you drowning.” He snickers with a teasing grin on his face. He takes quick but careful steps to the open door that leads to the bathroom. He sat you down in the bathtub and prompted you to take your clothes off. You can feel the embarrassment bubble up inside of you as well as your jaw tightening. “Come on, now. Don’t get too shy~ You’re gonna get used to this soon enough.” he traces the shape of your cheek before he lets his finger move lower to your neck to unbutton one button of your collar.

“You’re a big girl now, right?” He murmurs softly, grabbing your hand and placing it on your shirt, silently commanding you to undress. “But I don’t mind if I could do it instead. I’d be more than happy to see you trust in me in this.” Childe was trying his best to go easy on you. He knew he wouldn’t go anywhere if he continued to torture you.

He’ll make sure he’s all you can rely on. The only person you can trust in this dim cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“No.. I can do it.” You push his hand away as you slowly unbutton your shirt, each time you show a bit of your skin with each button, his gaze intensifies. He couldn’t help but put his hands on the sides of your stomach, his thumb brushing the soft and bare skin. He leans in and uses his teeth to drag the collar of your shirt to the side to reveal more of your figure. “So pretty..” he praises, licking a stripe of your shoulder. You sat there, frozen and clutching onto his shirt, attempting to push him away.

He notices this and controls his urges. He’s not gonna do anything, yet. “Undress the rest of your clothing for me.” He pulls away and stands up to discard his gloves. You do as he says and unzip your jeans, kicking them off. You were only left with your undergarments and the way he eats up every bare skin of your body makes you feel unsafe to what he’s gonna do next.

Childe really has a hard time breathing at the sight of you. God he’d just take you there right now but he slaps himself to the thought of it. “Not yet..” He scolds himself internally. He’ll do it once the time is right. For now, he needs you cleaned up. “Take those off too.” You swore you heard a low grunt at the end of his sentence but you didn’t dare question it. You unclip your bra from behind, struggling a bit from taking it off before finally letting it fall off your shoulders and onto your lap. 

Childe stares at you, admiring every curve and contour but he snaps out of it once your hands lowered to take off your underwear too. His eyes were stuck on your lap and at the sight of your cunt. He lets out a heavy huff he didn’t know he was holding for so long and grabs your undergarments, placing them in the sink. A moment later, he turned on the water faucet and washed your naked body with soap. Occasionally brushing the scars (that he made) with his thumb to soothe you (as well as admiring it as if it’s a work of art.)

It didn’t take too long to finish bathing you. It’s probably the first time you’ve behaved around him but that doesn’t mean you’ll tolerate him for long. Childe gently grabs your chin and tilts it upwards for your eyes to face him. You thought he’d do something he wasn’t supposed to but he just simply caressed the bruise on your cheek. You could only sigh and hope whatever he wanted to do just finishes.

“Let’s get you settled..” Childe gets up from his kneeling position and grabs a white towel. He turns his head and gestures to you to get out of the tub. You did what he commanded and stood up from the water and stepped out of it. You cringe at the cold breeze meeting your skin as the water droplets sticking on your drop to the ground.

You notice the ginger-haired man’s hesitance when seeing your bare body in all of its glory. The water made your skin glisten a bit, all he wanted to do now was mouth your neck, your collarbone, literally anywhere. He wasn’t being picky at this point. He just wanted his hands all over your body.

He couldn’t contain himself much longer and dropped the towel as he desperately strides towards you to wrap his arms around your waist and pull your wet body on his clothed one. His hands obsessively ravaging your hips and your back, “Fuck… So pretty for me, yeah?” He grunts at the feeling of being so close to you, chest-to-chest, trapped in his arms with no escape and no choice but to deal with his horrid affection. “All for me…” His fingers pat your bare hip until it reaches your ass, squeezing it lightly. You froze and clutch onto his shirt, “Stop… Please..” You plead, but he growls. “Fine..” he responds but doesn’t let you distance yourself from him.

Childe grabbed the towel that fell on the floor, he turns to you again and dry your body up, periodically brushing your intimate parts with his lips, saying it was to quicken the process. He wasn’t even trying to make a better excuse.

With one last stroke of the towel around your breasts, he pulls away and admires his work. “I’ll get you some clothes. Come with me.” he places the towel on a towel rail and leads you to– most likely– his room.

He sits you down on the edge of the bed as he explores through a closet of clothes. Maybe… Just maybe you could knock him out. He was really distracted at the moment but you don’t have anything to attack him with. Even if you did, you’d be dead. He’s not that weak nor does he have slow instincts to sense what’s wrong.

“Hey..” Childe snaps his fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes widen and blink a few times before looking up at him, confused. Childe stares at you for a moment before letting out a chuckle and sighing, amused at your act. “Done daydreaming, sweetheart?” he teases before handing you some folded group of clothes. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like that for too long. But I don’t mind such a sight either way… I’ll think of other ways to heat you up if you let me.” He smirks and you internally cringe at his remark in trying to bed you.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Childe.” You grin awkwardly at him and attempt to grab the clothes from his hands but he refuses to give you it. “[Y/N].” He spoke your name. He sounded mad, as if you did or said something wrong and offending. “Yes, Chil–”

“Don’t call me that.” He cuts you off with a stern tone. The way his eyes narrow at how your lips voiced out his name— his codename to be specific. A name that’s normally used by either enemies or acquaintances that he's barely close with. “It’s Ajax.. Just call me that, [Y/N]. It’s just two syllables and four letters.”

“...”

Childe notices your silence and sighs, feeling frustrated. “Just this once at least.. Please?” he begs and you swore he looked pathetic like that. You can’t believe this is the exact same man who just committed manslaughter yesterday and got rid of your whole family. “...Ajax.” You mussitate,  a hint of annoyance within your tone from his persistence.

You were unable to catch the self-satisfied smile he had on his lips. Childe lets out a content hum as he places the pile of clothes on your hands and pushes you to sit on the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He expresses his mirth fatuously, “Get dressed. I’ll take a bath. Behave for me, alright? Don’t go out without my permission.” He spoke softly, holding your shoulder, his grip was threatening but soon enough softened, taking it out of your body. He stared at you for a moment, his gaze on you didn’t waver as he studied every detail on you.

With a turn of his heel, he left and entered the bathroom, closing it and locking it as water started running inside.

You sat on the bed's edge. Feeling overwhelmed, the sound of his voice, the way his touch sends shocking shocks through your body. You were overthinking what had just happened and didn't see how your body began to shake from the cold. You wore the long-sleeved sweater and pajamas gently, shaking the thoughts out of your head. It strangely fits... Did he get your size while you were sleeping? But it didn't appear brand new if he did manage to get your size and buy clothing for it.

You stood up and walked onto the exit door of the bedroom you were in, looking towards the door where Childe was bathing. When you're close enough, you palm the knob and turn it slowly so as not to create too much noise.

The corners of your lips raise a bit when you successfully open the door but it soon drops when you hear another door creak behind you. “What do you think you’re doing?” an austere voice rumbles from a few feet. Slowly turning your head, you’re met with the sight of Childe’s bare chest that was dripping with hot water.

You were so distracted by his sudden closeness that you didn’t notice his hand closing the door while leaning in front of you so it couldn’t be opened. “Be a dear and get out of the way.” his tone wasn’t as gentle as before. You warned yourself not to get him mad or else you’ll face something you’ll regret. You let out a sigh as you take a step to the side and awkwardly walk towards the bed to sit there again. Childe seems to calm down from the way his shoulders slump as he locks the door. He turns to look at you before making his way over to the bed, “Look at me.” he commands, gripping your chin harshly.

Once making eye contact with you, he stayed silent. You knew what he was saying from how his eyes were narrowing while he let out uneven, heavy breaths.

It didn’t take long for him to pull away in pure silence so he could dress up. Once finished, he crawls over to you and forces you to lay down on the mattress with his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you locked within his embrace. You feel his nose brush up against your nape, breathing in and familiarizing your addicting scent. “You smell divine..” The man murmurs from behind, his hand palming your stomach in a loving way. He feels the way you tense up from his touches and he hums, grinning from the feeling. “Relax… I won’t do anything yet.”

His ‘reassuring’ words only served to stiffen you up. Childe sighs before his grip tightens around you and wraps a leg around your pair. He decided to just stay silent, assuming you’ll get used to his presence around you soon enough. It’s not like you have a choice either way.

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.

.

“Dear…” Childe murmurs longingly as he turns his body to face yours. He’s been tossing and turning all night during his sleep and he didn’t notice that until now. He opens his eyes tiredly with a sheepish smile as his arms wrap around the soft figure in front of him, “I’m so sorry about that… Did I wake you?” he asks, his tone tinged with a bit of guilt.

No response.

Childe purses his lips as he shakes his head and sits up, gripping what seems to be your shoulder and forcing you to look at him.

But it wasn’t you. It was just a pillow.

Upon his realization, he quickly got up and searched around the house for you. It’s not like you’ve gotten far, right? Not to the point you’re outside the cabin he’s trapping you in. All the doors were locked, windows closed shut so that your weak body couldn’t open it.

That is, until he noticed the front door lock on the floor. He wouldn't have seen your escape if it weren't for the gleaming metal flashing in the dark. As he slammed the front door wide, he noticed footsteps, footprints pointing towards the woodland that encircled the lodge. He grits his teeth before donning the dark, heavy coat that had been hanging nearby before stepping out to get you and take you back inside.

Even though everything was dark, he could see where he was going. Where you were going. It won't be long before he catches up with you. He realizes you didn't go very far. You're too lost in this forest and you'll end up back where you started(. There’s a reason why he set up this specific forest when trapping you). Do you really think you can escape him that easily? He chuckles to himself. It’s amusing. It’s good to have some determination, some hope at least, but it’s also good to be realistic. 

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.

You ran and ran as fast as you could, away from the cabin in the woods, away from the creature within it. Your feet hurt severely. You’ve underestimated how harsh the winter of Snezhnaya is, how the breeze alone causes your whole body to turn numb from the cold. What’s worse was that you couldn’t stop moving no matter what. Even a single second counts, driving you closer to your escape.

You struggle to breathe after all that movement, causing you to stumble against a thick tree root. You pant, taking heavy breaths to regain your composure but you can’t really be calm in a situation like this, can you?

You stood up, dusting the snow off your clothes as you continued forward, trembling a bit from feeling the sudden warmth rising up your body. Fuck… This is gonna be the death of you..

You hear footsteps tapping behind you, approaching you slowly and surely. A howl can be heard from behind that was soon followed by a growl. You slowly turned your head in search of the source of the sound and quickly regretted it. The sight of the darkish Rifthounds glaring at you sent a shiver on your spine. They were quite far but it didn’t take awhile for them to start noticing your presence and preparing to teleport or sprint at you.

You saw the Rockfound Rifthound instantly turning its body, disappearing for a second before appearing right in front of you, about to swing its tail to attack you. You shriek out loud, your legs instinctively move to the opposite direction only for you to instantly get knocked forward when feeling the tail make contact with your back. Groaning, you attempt to get back up, ignoring the sights of the Whelps drawing nearer towards you.

You clenched your fist before grabbing a big enough rock and throwing it at the Rifthound that just attacked you to catch it off guard. Seeing it roar in pain and the Whelps looking towards their leader, you took this chance to escape from the creature's grasp.

Never have you felt this much adrenaline rushing through your vines. You felt so dead yet so alive right now…

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a static of Electro rotating over to you. The projectile makes an impact on your side, causing you to get pushed and injured in the process. You grunt gutturally, clutching your hip and left arm, hissing as the sting worsens the more contact it has with your hand and other solid things.

You look over to your side, spotting a Thundercraven Rifthound nearing you along with its accompaniment of Whelps. Your hands swiftly touch the ground swiftly, moving it in hope to find another rock but to no avail.

You were trying to think of a way to escape this but there was no way out. You were surrounded by the mobs, and they looked like they wouldn’t let you off the hook easily. You spot a current of Electro and what seems to be aiming at you. You pulled your arms to your face, blocking whatever was about to touch you.

You hiss at the feeling of the electrifying scratch on the small reveal of your skin and twitch when hearing the wail of the Rifthounds around you. Another guttural sound erupts not so far from where you sit, causing you to press your face deeper into your arms.

“Get up.” Someone spoke, their tone serious and authoritative.

It took about a few seconds to do exactly that. You spot that the Rifthounds were gone, only leaving parts of their body left behind. You knew you weren’t strong but it did surprise you that every single one of them was taken care of. “T-Thank you, mister–?”

“I said– Get Up.” His voice booms through you, causing your ear to ring a bit. You perk your head up with your eyes squinted, “Apologies… I–” A breath was taken away from your lungs upon feeling the man’s hand wrapped around your neck, dragging you from the ground up to the sky. The hand squeezes your throat tightly, making you swing your legs on instinct to kick whoever was holding you. “All under my mercy now, huh? What happened to your acts of disobedience? Did it all get thrown out the window once I teach you your lesson?” The man scoffs, harshly dropping you on the snowy ground and kicking you on your stomach, making you turn and tumble down into a group of bushes.

You hiss, the feeling of small pricks picking into your skin, causing small but nasty scars that leave you groaning. You couldn’t see, some even scratched near your eyes and for you not to get blinded by them, you squint your eyelids shut.

“Please– I’m sorry! Let me out!” You sob, trembling in fear, in the stinging pain of the pricks. “Oh, are you now?” The man walks towards the bush, tapping his foot as he watches you struggling. ”Do you mean it?” He plants his foot on top of the bush, slowly but surely deepening its form to strangle you more.

“Yes– I do! Agh–”

“Beg for your life if you mean it.” He deepens it once more. Even if you were under this confined space of a bush, you can spot the sadistic grin plastered on his face, clearly enjoying every second of your suffering. “P-please… I plead.. For mercy. Please.. I can’t br–eathe-hah!” You breathe heavily in between your words, the form of the bush only trapping you little by little. “Do you promise… Pinkie promise to not escape out of my grasp? To obey my every command, dearest?” You feel your hand being taken out of the bush and into the cold air outside. You whine, feeling the small pricks touch your skin in the process.

A pinkie awaits to intertwine with yours, “I’m waiting.” He reminds by delving his foot deeper, causing you to cry out in agony and wrapping your pinkie around his, “I promise! Please!”

“That’s my girl.” He jests in amusement as he pulls away, cracking his knuckles and stretching his body to dive in and carefully but surely pull you out of the spiky bush. He cringes a bit once spotting the small spikes in your skin. He sighed and decided to take care of them later since keeping you warm was his priority right now. Taking his jacket off and wrapping it around you, he made sure the pricks didn’t bother you on the way back to the cabin. He takes a look at the rose bush one last time before picking one of it up and placing it on the chest of his jacket.

He caresses the petals before his fingers meet your chin to tilt them up, “C’mon.. Rest. You’re gonna need it.” He hushes you quietly before forcefully closing your eyes.and pecking your forehead. You couldn’t soften up in his presence even if you wanted to but the way your body just betrays you, forcing you to go limp to gain rest it needs, it gave you no choice to stay awake even if you wanted to.

.

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“You’re awake, I see..” A voice spoke from above. You twitch, turning your head to the source and furrowing your brows upon spotting the oh-so familiar, scarred and freckled face that was right in front of you. You attempt to push him away by nudging your knee against his abdomen but that was countered from a sharp pain coming from both your legs. “..Ahah–!” You let out a roar of discomfort. Chidle grins and jests upon seeing your face contort in displeasure, “You should think twice before doing that. I still haven’t fully catered your body yet.”

He pulls your leg lightly which is enough for your body to get dragged onto his lap. “Don’t move.” He commands, emphasizing it with a squeeze of your thigh.

You internally whimper when you feel him slowly but surely take the thorns out of your skin. “How cute.” he laughs softly, patting a wet, warm towel on the small open wound. “You’re doing great. Just as you should. Continue behaving for me, will you? It’s not like you’re going anywhere with these.” He plays around with the chains around your ankle that was connected to a wall. “It fits you well, don’t you think?” Childe murmurs lovingly, as if he’s admiring the work he’s done on you… Trapped, under his mercy, with no escape.

After finishing up the wounds on your left leg, he leans in close to your face, his hand cupping your waist to bring you closer to him, close enough to place a kiss on your forehead. “There we go… Such a behaved little thing.” Childe jests before standing up and dusting his pants. “Hopefully this will be enough for you. Sleep well, alright?” He pats and ruffles your hair, his hand sliding down to your cheek and caressing it. “Don’t try escaping me. Because next time, you won’t even get to be sleeping under this damnation.”

You tried to bite his palm because it was so close to your mouth, but he took his hand away and quickly brought it back to hit you, turning your head the other way as your cheek erupted in pain. His hand catches your chin and angles it violently in his direction as you hiss. He's grinning viciously, his eyes twitching with annoyance at your attempt to turn the tables on him again, “Still being a bitch? Thought you learnt your lesson… Maybe I should’ve left you to rot.” He snarled, gripping your chin tighter.

“Waste of fucking breath.” He pushes you against the wall and lets go of you, standing with a displeased expression and turning to take his leave as you groan in pain. You clenched your hands into a fist as you watched him climb up the stairs and reach for the door. Childe looks back, glancing upon you one more time before smiling in content to himself and shutting it, following with the sound of a key locking in.

You were now by yourself. But then again it was much better than having to be breathing the same air as the man who just hit you.

You side meets the dirty mattress under you as you hug your knees, seeing as he didn’t give you a blanket to keep yourself warm. You were unable to muffle down your silent sobs, clutching onto your own cheek as it continued to sting. You question… You wonder, why?

…Just why?

°

Ouch… Huh?

You groggily opened your eyes, the feeling of something biting your neck. A wet sensation was followed after and you instantaneously snapped out of your tired trance to grab whatever was in front of you. “Ah– Geez… Relax, will you? This mattress is dirty enough.. Wouldn’t want blood to stain it too..” Childe groaned, his hand groping your hip harshly to make you pause. He pulls his face away from your neck, wiping the saliva dripping from his mouth. “H-hey! Have you not had enough already?!” You screeched and tried to get him off of you but were unable to. “Shut it.” he scoffs, shutting your mouth by forcing his lips onto you.

He slips his hand underneath your shirt, touching every part he wishes. “You feel so divine.. I wonder how you’d feel around me, yeah?” He grins against your lips. His tongue intrudes into your wet cavern, drinking in your moans and muffled noises. The wet sounds of his mouth against yours, showing how desperate he is for your taste.

You whine, feeling Childe’s hand exiting your shirt to enter your shorts instead, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He sighs, pulling away from the kiss, admiring the string of saliva connecting your lips. Licking his lips, he brings his face close to you until you are nose-to-nose. 

“Wanna try that out with me, my dear?”

© wiltedivinity 2024. reposting, plagiarizing, translating, claiming authorship or any form of unauthorized use is strictly prohibited. legal action may be taken against violators.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Thirteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Angst, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Emotional Manipulation, Begging, ThighRiding, Masturbation.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

The moment you stepped into Mattheo's private dorm, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within you. The room, drenched in shadows and dimly lit by a few strategically placed candles, seemed to echo his enigmatic personality. Deep emerald and silver tapestries adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of sandalwood, mingled with the faint aroma of whiskey, creating a heady atmosphere that hung like a thick fog.

Your anger simmered just below the surface as you practically shoved Mattheo off you, his arrogant figure slumping onto the edge of the opulent bed, running a battered hand through his messy hair as he stared at you. The room's opulence felt suffocating, practically a mirrored image of the turmoil roaring within you. Your eyes roamed the space, catching glimpses of Mattheo's life--scattered parchment filled with scribbled notes, half-empty potion vials, and a tangle of dark robes strewn carelessly on a chair.

You couldn't ignore the mounting frustration, the way his careless demeanor clashed with the chaos he had unleashed in your life.

"This," you seethed, running your hands through your hair as you fought to keep your voice steady, "this has to stop, all of this."

Mattheo met your gaze, his expression unreadable. The room seemed to shrink around you, suffocating you between its walls. Your anger crackled like electricity in the charged air, the weight of the night's events pressing on your chest like a crushing burden. You knew you should leave, escape the suffocating atmosphere of his room, but an inexplicable force held you in place, rooted to the spot. The battle within you raged on, torn between the allure of his dangerous world and the need to protect your own sanity.

"Here we go again," Mattheo mumbled, his voice carrying a tinge of exhaustion, collapsing back on his green duvet. "Give it to me, Raven. Get it all out."

"Can you please not be insufferable for five fucking minutes?" Your words sliced through the charged air, your frustration escalating with his casual dismissal of your anger. "Do you even understand what just happened? Your already suspicious brother just found me walking you back to your dorm on a Saturday fucking night while you pretended to be blackout..."

You took a determined step forward, your anger palpable, radiating off you like heat waves. "Oh, but wait, you wouldn't know that he was suspicious, because when I tried to tell you about it, you basically told me to shut the fuck up, among other things..." you let your words hang, heavy and loaded, hoping they would pierce through his indifference. "Your ignorance is going to ruin my life, Mattheo. I don't think you realize it...or maybe you do, and you just don't care."

"My brother doesn't know fuck all." Mattheo grumbled, his frustration evident as he brought both palms to his face, rubbing his eyes wearily. "And even if he did, what's he going to do? He has no proof."

You rolled your eyes, exasperation boiling within you. "He could still kick me out of the guild...could tarnish my reputation with Dumbledore...the possibilities are fucking endless, Mattheo. Didn't you see the way he was looking at me? Did you not hear what he said?"

"Yeah, I saw the way he was looking at you alright," he said, irritation lacing his words. "Fucking pri-"

"Enough, Mattheo," you spat, your voice cutting through the air as you stepped closer to him. "Stop acting like you own me, like I'm yours to protect, control, or possess. It's time to face the facts. This is becoming too much. We've both admitted that we can't stop thinking about each other...how can we continue this after that?"

"Same way we always have, Raven," Mattheo said, sitting up to meet your eyes, leaning back on his palms. "We have this conversation every week. One of us says we can't do this anymore, but then the cycle continues...you know you can't resist this..."

"Gods, Mattheo...even on my tiptoes I wouldn't be able to reach your fucking ego." You hissed, stepping closer again, your skin pricking with frustration. "And I love how you say that like I've ever had a choice...like you haven't already embedded yourself in my fucking soul..."

Mattheo's lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent, his eyes searching yours for answers. The air between you crackled with tension, heavy with unspoken emotions. His usual confidence wavered, and for the first time, he seemed at a loss for words.

"I was fine with this until you took it too far, until you started making things complicated...the Tom thing has me sick..." you continued, your voice softening despite the anger that still lingered within you. "We're trapped in this vicious circle, Mattheo. Every time I try to pull away, you pull me back in, or vice versa...we're both tangled in this mess we've created, and I don't know how to break free..."

His expression remained unreadable, a mixture of frustration and helplessness flickering in his eyes. It was as if the reality of your words had finally caught up with him, forcing him to confront the depth of your entanglement. A heavy silence settled between you, Mattheo's gaze locked onto yours, his facade of indifference crumbling in the face of your honesty. He swallowed hard, his throat working visibly, but no words escaped his lips.

"Why?" you whispered, the weight of your words hanging in the tense space between you, crackling with unspoken emotion. You took a single step closer, your eyes searching his for a glimmer of understanding. "Why can't you admit that this needs to stop? That this can't continue?"

Mattheo blinked, his gaze flickering over your face, his lips parted, and his voice, tinged with uncertainty, left his throat in a hoarse whisper. "I...I don't know."

"You don't know?" you hissed, frustration bubbling within you. "You're willing to ruin my fucking life over an I don't know? Do you seriously hate me that much?"

As though a switch had been flipped, Mattheo stood, closing the distance between your bodies in a movement so forceful that you stumbled backward. His large palm found your arm, steadying you in place in front of him. His eyes, darker than the midnight sky, bored into you, filled with emotions you couldn't decipher.

"I don't hate you, Raven," he said, his voice firm, the intensity of his gaze paralyzing you.

Your heart stalled, your body near collapsing under the weight of his words. "You don't--"

"I never hated you," he repeated, his tone harsher this time, his grip on your arm tightening. "I couldn't fucking hate you even if I tried, and believe me, I have tried."

You were left speechless, entirely at a loss for words. The revelation shook you to your core. "You...but..."

"You make me fucking crazy, you make me feel like I'm always on the verge of losing control...and I don't lose control, Raven...not like this..." he growled, his voice a low, husky timbre that sent shivers down your spine.

Anger radiated off him, tangible and wild, as if it could set the room ablaze, surrounding your body with ease.

"You're a fucking mystery...everyone sees you as the school's brilliant little good girl, buried in books and academics...but underneath all that, you're so much more..." his free hand found your other arm, pulling you closer. "You're everything...you're honest, remarkably witty, and fuck, you have the sharpest snark that could keep any bloody asshat on their fucking toes..."

The intensity of his gaze softened for a fleeting moment, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath the rage.

"You said I don't know half of the woman you are, but I do...I know all too fucking well, and part of me wished I didn't..." his voice was almost a whisper now, your heart hammering against your sternum like a frantic caged bird. "And that's only because you make it impossible to hate you."

"You're drunk..." your breath hitched, caught in the raw honesty of his words. The air seemed charged with tension, heavy with unspoken desires and regrets. "You don't mean any of this..."

Mattheo's jaw clenched, the tension in the room escalating with each passing moment. His grip on you tightened, the pressure sending a shiver down your spine. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, his internal turmoil mirrored in his intense gaze. It felt like his words were crashing against the walls of your mind, struggling to find a place to settle, leaving you in a state of emotional disarray. He averted his eyes, as if seeking refuge from the intensity of the moment, his silence speaking volumes, his thoughts a storm brewing behind his gaze.

"Raven...I..." his voice escaped him like a fragile whisper, hanging in the charged air between you. "I don't hate you...I hate Berkshire for fucking touching you...I hate my brother for trying to fucking get with you...I even hate Zabini because I overheard him telling Malfoy that he'd have your virginity in a fucking day if he tried..."

His words hung heavy in the room, a raw confession that left you speechless. Mattheo's eyes, usually steely and confident, now held a vulnerability you had never seen before. The truth of his emotions enveloped the space between you, suffocating yet strangely liberating. You found your voice, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

"I don't want you to hate anyone...you shouldn't hate anyone over a girl you can never fucking be with..." you said, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation, the reality of your situation hanging heavy in the air. "Don't you see the problems here..."

Mattheo's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes clouded with an emotion he refused to acknowledge. Slowly, he released his grip on you, his fingers trailing away reluctantly as he retreated towards the worn-out couch in the corner. With a flick of his wand, he cast a spell that enveloped the room, muffling any sound and concealing the scent of the illicit substances he was about to indulge in.

Sinking into the couch, he seemed to meld into the shadows, the dim light casting eerie shadows across his face. His hands moved with practiced ease, rolling a blunt with expert precision. The room filled with the acrid aroma of marijuana as he took a long, deliberate drag, the smoke swirling around him like a protective veil, momentarily shrouding his vulnerability.

"You're right," he said, exhaling slowly, the smoke curling around him like a shield. "I see the problems, Raven. I see them crystal fucking clear."

Your heart pounded forcefully, its rhythm echoing the turmoil within you. Mattheo's ease with the weed fascinated and disturbed you simultaneously. He inhaled the smoke effortlessly, hardly flinching at its burn, filling the room with a scent that made your head spin and your body loosen, momentarily dulling the ache that was roaring through your limbs. Your throat felt drier than cotton, aching with the need for moisture, as you released a long, shuddering sigh. You blinked, unable to tear your eyes away from him, taking a hesitant step closer.

"Why do you do that?" Your voice was a fragile whisper, laden with genuine curiosity. "Drink, smoke...it's like you're never sober."

Mattheo's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, a guard descending over his features as he took another drag from the blunt. The smoke swirled around him like a protective shield, veiling his true sentiments.

"It's numbing, Raven," he said, his voice a low rasp, smoke curling around his words as he spoke. "Quiets the chaos for a little while." He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, a raw honesty flickering in their depths. "And it’s just a temporary fix...then I'm back to reality, back to wanting things I can't have."

Your pulse quickened; Gods, he was scarily vulnerable tonight. You'd never seen this side of him, and it left you utterly bewildered. Every word he uttered tugged at the strings of your empathy, threatening to unravel your carefully crafted resolve. You knew you had to put an end to this, had to sever the ties that bound you, but his vulnerability was like a persuasive melody, tempting you to stay, to comfort him, to succumb once more to the magnetic pull of his pretty words.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you huffed, forcing a small, half smile. "Those pesky demons, huh..."

Mattheo's laughter rippled through the room, punctuated by the tendrils of smoke that swirled around him like spectral dancers.

"Yeah," he said, the bitterness in his voice cutting through the air, his tone dropping to a near-missable whisper. "Who would have known that the worst one would be disguised as a fuckin' sweet little angel..."

For the hundredth time in twenty minutes, you felt like your lungs had seized function, the air in the room growing heavy. The smoke from the blunt hung in the air, a haze of confusion and desire, intertwining with your senses. Your fingers trembled, desperate for the feeling of being buried inside his hair, craving the intimacy that only Mattheo could provide.

Unable to find the right words, you let your feet carry you closer to him, drawn like a moth to a flame. His eyes met yours, the intensity in the room building with each step, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air like a storm on the horizon. As you stopped roughly an arms length away from where he was seated, the room seemed to pulse with raw, unspoken desire, the tension between you reaching a breaking point, yet neither of you dared to move further. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in a suspended moment, where everything seemed possible and yet infinitely complicated.

"Come here, Raven..." he murmured, putting the blunt out on the tray next to the couch. "Please."

The moment he'd uttered that word, the moment it had left his lips, your defiance crumbled, leaving your sanity in tatters. With timid steps, you approached him, and he drew you onto his lap. Your thighs straddled him, his battered hands finding firm a hold on your hips, the grip so tight it felt like it could crush bones. The intensity of his touch ignited flames on your flesh, just like it has done endless times before.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still, your surroundings fading into insignificance. His touch became a lifeline, grounding you in the tumultuous sea of emotions. His lips barely moved as he uttered the words, each syllable laced with a heaviness that echoed the weight of your shared desires.

"One more night," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against the charged air. "Then that's it."

A reluctant agreement hung on your lips, the weight of reality pressing down on your shoulders like an unbearable burden. The ache of impending separation settled in your chest, and yet, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull that kept drawing you back into his arms, no matter the cost.

"One more night," you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if acknowledging the fleeting nature of your shared moments would make them more tangible, more real. "Then we're done."

A soft hand glided along your side, its roughened patches snagging slightly on the fibers of your cardigan. He traced the contours with a careful touch, his gaze drifting down to your chest, tracing the hidden curves beneath your attire. With a subtle pull at the hem, he met your eyes once more.

"Take this off..." he whispered, the desperation clear in his tone. "Take it all off."

Not needing a second prompt, your trembling fingers delicately worked on the buttons, skillfully releasing each one, your eyes never wavering from his intense gaze. His hands, possessing a gentle yet electrifying touch, traced a sensuous journey up your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Every movement felt like a carefully orchestrated dance, a silent agreement between you two.

The sweater cascaded to the floor, a soft thud underscoring the charged atmosphere, before your hands moved to your blouse, the air thick with anticipation and desire. As soon as it was undone, Mattheo helped you shimmy it off and tossed it onto the growing pile on the floor. You shivered at the sudden cold air on your bare chest but the warmth from his body quickly enveloped you, heart stalling as he leaned into you, reaching behind your back to expertly undo your bra. After a moment, it too fell to the ground.

"Fuck..." he purred, darkened obsidian eyes fixed on your chest. "Look at you..."

His hand moved to your neck, his thumb tracing a path down your collarbone, before sliding over to one of your breasts. As he twisted and pinched your nipple, your head fell back with a moan, your body arching towards him, evoking a deep growl from his chest. Your hands moved to the hem of your skirt, ready to peel it off your body when he halted you, pulling your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

"That can stay on..." he murmured, voice hoarse with desire. "My sexy girl in her short little uniform skirt."

He leaned in to capture one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin and sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You moaned, sinking deeper into his lap as pleasure overtook you, shuddering as you felt the outline of his erection pressing against your needy centre.

"Take off your panties," he commanded gruffly, his hand moving to slip his fingers beneath the waistband of your skirt. "I want to feel you..."

You eagerly complied, shimmying out of your panties and tossing them aside. A moment of hesitation washed over you, a wave of shyness and vulnerability making you feel exposed. Your gaze faltered, tracing a path from his lips to his chest, a nervous lump forming in your throat. Despite the anxiety, your fingers found their resolve and moved to the buttons on his shirt, meeting his eyes once more as you began to slowly undo them.

"I want to feel you, too, Matty..." you murmured, your voice horse as he met your eyes. "Please..."

Without wasting a second more of time, Mattheo manoeuvred himself out of his shirt, tossing it to the pile on the floor before leaning back, allowing your eyes to roam his now bare chest. Your lungs stalled, your cunt clenching with need as your gaze trailed from his thick shoulders, adorned with a tapestry of scars, cuts, and bruises--down to his defined, sculpted abs.

Each mark seemed to carry a weighty narrative, a testament to his resilience and strength. Your eyes traced the lines and contours, your thoughts weaving a web of admiration and empathy. Mattheo's abs were sculpted with precision, each muscle defined and rippling beneath his skin. They formed a chiseled landscape, emphasizing his strength and dedication to physical fitness. The play of light and shadows in the room accentuated the contours, creating a captivating pattern that drew the eye. His abdomen, toned and firm, brought an unspeakable heat between your thighs.

Mattheo's gaze raked over your naked body, lips parted in exasperation, releasing a long breath before he shifted closer only a little bit, his eyes focused on your hips.

"Do you ever touch yourself?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper, slipping his hand toward your heat.

Your lungs stalled, taken aback by the question, but when his eyes met yours, you nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread over your face.

"And do you think of me when you do it?" he continued, his thumb circling your clit and sending jolts of pleasure through you.

"Yes," you gasped, your hips moving involuntarily against his hand. "I do..."

Mattheo's eyes were intense, locked onto yours as he stimulated your body, jaw tensing as you ground against his crotch, fingers digging into the flesh on his shoulders as though it could anchor you to reality.

"Yeah?" He leaned in further, nibbling on your earlobe, slowing his pace on your clit, leaving you squirming against him. "You think of my hands? Touching you like this?..."

Your breath caught in your throat at his bold question, but there was no denying the raw desire coursing through your veins. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, Mattheo..." you gasped as he sunk his teeth into your earlobe now, groaning as your fingers dug into his skin. "Your hands...your mouth...all of it..."

A wicked grin curved on his lips as he leaned back, his eyes locked with yours. "Show me," he murmured. "I want you to touch yourself for me...show me what you like...show me the effect I fucking have on you..."

Without giving you a chance to respond, Mattheo's strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer before he shifted you over so that you were straddling only one of his thick thighs, covered still by the fabric of his black trousers. You gasped as a jolt of arousal shot through you, and he leaned in close, hands finding purchase on your hips.

"Ride my thigh," he said roughly, his eyes dark with desire. "Show me how you'll take care of yourself since I won't be able to anymore..."

Your heart slammed your sternum, an unadulterated lust scorching your skin melding with an inexplicable hurt in your chest. Masking your pain, you pulled bottom lip between your teeth, slowly beginning to roll your hips against his thigh, gasping as you felt his muscles flex beneath you.

"Yeah, just like that, Raven..." Mattheo growled, aiding your hips in moving, gripping them tightly with his strong hands and pressing you down firmly against him. "Fuck, you're so wet...that's all for me, isn't it?"

He watched you intently, his gaze focused on every move you made, and as you rubbed yourself against his leg, his eyes turning darker with desire.

"Yes, Matty..." you moaned, breath torn with overwhelming pleasure. "All-fuck-all for you..."

His abs flexed as you moved against him, rippling beneath his skin with each thrust. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the scent of his musk, making you wild with need for him. Your fingers moved to your clit, rubbing fast circles around it as you felt the pleasure rolling through you. You whimpered softly, the heat building into a slow burn as the sensations grew more intense. You spread your legs wider, pressing down on Mattheo's thigh with increasing pressure as you moved faster.

Mattheo watched in rapt attention, his gaze fixed on your fingers as they played with your clit. His own body was tense with desire, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, singlehandedly spurring you on.As you continued to grind against his thigh, you could feel the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo. Every movement, every touch of your fingers, every flex of Mattheo's muscles was driving you toward the edge of ecstasy.

"Fucking hell, Raven..." he groaned through barred teeth. His gaze was fixed on you, intense and hungry, like a predator stalking its prey. "You're making me so fucking hard..."

His body was a wonderland beneath you: hard and smooth, with rippling abs and strong thighs that tensed and relaxed as you worked yourself against him.

"Shit..." you mewled, spurred on by his words, his eyes, his hands, everything about him. "You wish I was doing this on your cock, don't you, Matty..."

The sensations were overwhelming: the friction of your slickness against his leg, the feel of his hands on your hips, the sound of your breathing growing ragged and uneven as you drew closer to orgasm. You pressed down harder, panting with need as you felt the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Mattheo's eyes never left you, drinking in every detail of your movements, savouring the sight of your flushed skin, your lips parted in ecstasy, and the way your body quivered with desire.

"Fuck, yes, baby..." his pupils dilated with a mix of satisfaction and hunger, feeding off your pleasure as though it were his own. "I would fuck you so fucking good...I'd make you cum on my cock so many times you'd lose count..."

"Oh...shit..." His abs flexed noticeably with each grind of your hips, the defined muscles contorting beneath his smooth, pale skin. You could feel the power and strength beneath your fingertips as you reached out to touch his sculpted abdomen, tracing the lines and feeling the firmness beneath your touch. "I wish you fucking would..."

The sensation of your fingers sliding against your clit sent electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your entire body. The strokes became faster, more urgent, driving you closer to the edge. Every nerve ending was alight with desire, amplifying every sensation, every breathless moan that escaped your lips.

"Don't fucking say that right now, Raven..." his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you against him with even more force. "I'm barely fucking holding on...one more word like that and I'd flip you over so fucking fast..."

Your eyes rolled, your lungs sputtering, his words filling your veins with magma. "Fuck, Mattheo..."

As he watched you, he began to grind his own groin against your thigh, adding to the sensations that were already pushing you toward orgasm.

"God you're so fucking hot," he murmured, his voice low and breathless. "I'll be thinking about this every time I jerk off...fuck, you're just the dirtiest little thing Raven..."

You could feel the muscles beneath your skin tensing, ready to explode with pleasure. Every touch from Mattheo was like fire on your skin, every sound he made was like fuel to your already raging inferno. You could hear his breath quickening as well, matching the rapid pace of your own.

His grip on your hips tightened, his voice tight as he fought through a groan. "You're close aren't you, princess?"

"Yes," you moaned, head falling back, fingers increasing their pace on your clit. "I'm so close, Matty..."

"Fuck," his breathing was ragged as he ground his groin against your thigh. "Beg for me, bitch...beg to cum all over my thigh like the good little slut I know are."

The words sent a thrill through your body, stoking the fire that was already burning within you. You met his gaze with wide, pleading eyes, your orgasm on the very edge of rattling through you.

"Please, Matty..." you whispered, the desperation clear in your tone. "Please let me cum...please let me cum for you..."

"Mm." Mattheo's fingers dug into your skin as he ground his groin against your thigh, his movements growing more urgent as he sensed your climax building. "That's it, let go for me baby..."

Your whole body tensed as you felt your orgasm approaching, like a wave rising inside you. Mattheo's leg was slick with your arousal, and the thought of covering him completely sent you over the edge. You cried out, your voice raw with pleasure, as the first tidal wave of your orgasm hit you like a fucking train. Your whole body shook as you rode out the waves of pleasure, your hips bucking against Mattheo's leg. He held you close the entire time, his hands gripping you tightly as you convulsed in ecstasy.

Your breath came in short pants as you slowly came back to yourself, your head resting against his chest. Mattheo let you catch your breath for a few moments, his own breathing still ragged as he held you close. Finally, he leaned back to look into your eyes, his hand cupping your cheek.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, admiration clear in his voice. "Absolutely fucking filthy...but beautiful...so beautiful..."

Your heart swelled with affection for him, and you leaned in to kiss him without even really thinking twice about it, his lips were hot and insistent against yours, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and dip with hungry fingers. You could feel the fire starting to build within you again, the memory of his touch sending shivers down your spine, his insistent erection pressing against your thigh, your fingers crawling down his chest before softly grazing over it.

"Let me take care of you now," you whispered, your words a gentle caress against his lips, acutely aware of the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. "Last chance, Matty..."

"No." His response was unwavering, his grip firm yet tender as he pulled you closer, repositioning both of you so you lay lengthwise on the couch. His body enveloped yours, offering a comforting embrace, while his fingers traced a soothing path, brushing your hair away from your face. "You've done more than enough for me."

Your mind reeled with disbelief, completely taken aback by the intimacy of the moment. Your body tensed involuntarily as you found yourself pressed against the warmth of his chest, small beads of sweat glistening off his skin. Inhaling sharply, you caught a scent that mingled with his natural aroma, a hint of weed still lingering in the air. As you exhaled, a sense of surrender washed over you, your eyelids growing heavy with drowsiness as you eventually drifted off without even realizing it.

—————-

Here’s chapter fourteen->

[angelinpiink]

ex boyfriend! eren headcannons ࿐ྂ。

❥ note: as a disclaimer, these headcanons are a bit toxic/dark, if that is something you find triggering i recommend you skip this one, you can find other works of eren that don't have this particular theme here just want to make it clear that i do not condone this sort of behavior and this doesn't represent my idea of what a healthy relationship should look like thank you and enjoy

Firstly, eren doesn't even consider you guys to be actually broken up, he’s convinced. you’re just screwing with him or playing hard to get. Even once he realizes you're not, the breakup is still completely one sided. He loves you far too much to even fathom that the relationship is over. He’s already planned your entire future together–he's been doing so since he first met you, from the house you'll live in together to the garter you'll be wearing on your wedding day.  In short, he’s delusional when it comes to you, head over heels or do he likes to call it and for this reason he still goes around telling everyone you're his. 

Everyone around him, including his friends is obviously taken aback by this and so they sort of just play along, listening to him rant   about you the moment he’s gotten enough alcohol in his system. This happens  at every get together they have had since the breakup.  “she’s just confused and going through a tough time right now. She doesn't know that she wants me,” he’ll say anytime he hears about you having moved on with anyone else.  If anyone even has the courage to challenge his statements he has the habit of angrily shutting them down. “Shut the hell up, you don't know anything about our relationship.” 

He spends the first few days blowing up your phone with texts about how much he loves you and that though your relationship has had its ups and downs – him being the one who’s mostly responsible for the downs, you guys will get through it as you always had if you just keep trying. When he received no response ,he changed his approach, no longer attempting to convince you to stay but now begging you to come back  home. “Come back to me please..” he’ll bombard your voicemail inbox with pleas and sob stories about how he hasn't slept because he misses holding you each night. 

 Weeks or even months  will pass since the break up itself, and every second of  his time he uses to  reach out to you, whether it's through phone calls or text. You better believe he's taking time to check up on you to see how you're doing–most  importantly, what you're doing and who you're with. He wants to make sure you're safe and not in the hands of any trouble or anyone he considers trouble. He has a habit of speaking with you as though you two are still together, ending many conversations with  “i love you.” and “hope to see you soon.” When he isn't reaching out to you he's thinking about you or talking to you about whatever poor soul is forced to listen. 

When he hears it from you that you’ve moved on to someone else, his heart shatters.  He had been able to deny and ignore the reality when he heard it from others but now that it was coming from you he had lost the energy to keep pretending to be okay with how things were, he feels as though you’re betraying him. In his eyes you were cheating by being with another.  Still, he doesn't make it known then and there, instead he responds with. “He can't love you the way I do.” and beyond that point he stops reaching out, and waits for you to come running back. 

 You'll learn the hard way that he was right  when you are riding back to his place drunk with tears running down your cheeks because you caught the very person you’d moved onto cheating on you with another girl. Once you two arrive, he carries you into the apartment where the two of you had  shared many memories together, because you are too drained from the events of the day to walk. He takes off your makeup using the makeup remover you’d ‘left behind’ when you moved out. Really, he stole it out of your things, along with other items because he was certain you’d come back to him under such circumstances. 

 He takes you into his arm, holding you so close and so tight to him because he’s afraid that you’ll leave him again as  you cry in his arms. “Don't know what i was thinking” his fingers stroke your hair.  “You weren't. but you should have known better.”  eren isn't too interested in giving you his sympathy because he feels he’s the one been betrayed the most here. If only you hadn't run off with someone else, none of this would be happening.

“I warned you,” he added. “I'm so sorry..” you sniffled, he swiped away your tears. his way of speaking to you had caused a wave of guilt to wash over you, you had left eren behind only to end up being made to look like a fool because you thought the grass was greener on the other side. Though he was upset with you,  Eren hated seeing  you cry.  especially over someone he didn't believe deserved your tears. “Make it up to me then.” a weight lifted off your shoulders at the offer of redemption. Little did you know, he plans to have you crying tears of another kind. 

❥ nsfw (things get sexual from here, if you are not comfortable with this kind of content pls turn back)

Before you know it, he’s ripped your dress off you, both your clothes and underwear are thrown about the hallway leading to the bedroom you used to share. He hasn't made a single change to anything since your absence and you find yourself feeling nostalgic, thinking back to a time where things werent easy but never this complicated. you're on the bed exposed and bear before him. He hovers between your legs. “Been so long since i've seen you like this, god i've missed it so much.” he’ll coo, his emerald gaze admiring your glistening folds that have spread with his fingers. the way your cunt throbbed under the lightest of touch, begging to be filled made him grow hard. “Missed you too.” you mutter, hazily bucking your hips against his touch.

“I know.  I know.” he reassures you, giving into your silent  demands, he continues toying with you, pushing his fingers past your folds,his finger strokes at your clit. “bet that boyfriend of yours didn't know how to take care of this needy little cunt, did he.” your juices now coating his fingers, he pounds you with them, earning a symphony of moans from your lips.  “not like i do..” he says, the satisfaction of you being so reactive to his touch bringing a smile to his face, your back arching as his movements become overwhelming for you. He soon pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his cock, that had been aching to be inside of you for far too long.

He pushes one of your legs outward, granting him more access to your sweet hole, He pushes deeper inside of you all self control leaving his body the moment he hears you cry out for him, tears welling in your eyes from pleasure as he fucks into you. “So pretty, gonna fill you up with my cum.” he groans,the moment he feels you clenching around his cock, your thighs trembling. He threw his head back as he rubs his thumb across your bottom lip, admiring you in such a state.

“Eren, you can't!” You shriek, his fingers gripping at your hips harshly. He continues fucking you hard and deep, his hips smashing against your own. “cant cum inside you?” he’ll question. he continues to pound you, this is his way of letting you know he has no intention of pulling out.

“but i thought you were sorry? I thought you were mine?”There is a heartbroken tone in his voice as he speaks to you, hoping for you to reassure him you meant the words you'd spoken earlier.  You were left feeling guilty for even thinking you should have denied him. after everything you’d already done to hurt him. You had said you would make it up to and part of that required doing as he wanted.  “I am!”

“shut up and take my cum then, you said you’re mine. gotta prove it. this pussy is mine too, right baby?” you nodded in agreement, tellinf him whatever he needed to hear to keep fucking you so good, muttering the best “mhm, i love you so so much!”  you could muster while being overtaken by your orgasm as eren came inside of you, the creamy liquid dripping out of you and down your thighs. “You're not going anywhere, not now, not ever, I won't let you.” 

 Eren, Who was responsible for it all, and had developed a plan for each failed talking stage you had. since leaving him and most importantly the breakup due to your boyfriend cheating– from his actions of  intimidating them into leaving you alone with threats of physical attacks or the videos he sent them of him devouring your cunt, while you cried out his name, your fingers tugging at his brunette strands of hair. A video which had been recorded so long ago when the two of you were still together, but the idiot, who you had made the mistake of calling a boyfriend,  hadn't even bothered to verify that your nails hadn't been any color you had been since you'd meeting him. perhaps, he simply didn't care enough. it was of no big importance to eren either way, in his eyes the fool wasn't deserving of you. Just as eren believed to be the case since the beginning, he was the only one who’d love you the way you deserved and for this reason he was never going anywhere.  

here’s my masterlist

[1-49]

burnt orange, #CC5500

╰► A Smoky Night, or an evening that smoulders forever

pairing: jaehyun × f!reader

❝ A burnt orange aura reveals high ambition and a strong desire for change, driven by practicality. Individuals with this shade may display a touch of selfishness, pride, or aggression. Its brown tones introduce a negative energy aspect, indicating potential challenges, lack of energy, or feeling stuck.

tags: this my fav type of angst. tense energy laced with pain with an undercurrent in flirting lol. wc. 10k

jaehyun’s too fine & unreadable. lots of messy signals and an overall fogged atmosphere. think both of them are toxic in their individual style lmao.. pining. implied fevered moments.

Whichever burns brighter ─── the orange flame rising from the evening lamp in the corner , or the view through the windows as the sun sets over the horizon ── you dont know. Each affects your feelings, but primarily it ’s the way it all reflects on him. The warm glow that has accumulated in his harsh eyes from both simply signifies that the journey is coming to an end. The day is almost over, and so are you two.

────── Slanderous comments were made, and accusations were traded. There is now nothing left to cling to. The only truth beneath all of Jaehyun’s painfully continuous smoothing and touching of his baseball cap, which he seems to be pulling in despite the fact that it’s already on his head, is his intense anxiety and uneasiness.

There is no longer any chance to salvage this; everything is in terminal decline, so there is no point in saying you’re sorry or taking back what you both said. Moreover, this should be easy to conclude because if there is anything you have learned from him, it’s how to develop stronger character.

... But the truth is very different from your wish that it is simple.

& you hate the truth! You hate finding yourself in this predicament. You hate that there’s no turning around. But the worst part of it all is that you hate that you lo—

His eternally soft hair, which has grown slightly, peeks out from under the cap, concealing the majority of his nape. An intimate place that was once kissed, bruised, and then kissed again—but now, his hair is just pushing you away from all of that.

Even his neck is contributing to the sand pile of memories because his oversized, washed brown shirt is too loose around the collar. His silver oli ball chain necklace, which you used to roll around your finger and play with endlessly, now sits glumly in the hollows of his collarbones. That this person was once a close person to you, it’s now a fever dream.

-

“Please—please stop talking! You-you’re only making this worse!”

“So…” 

Giving room for the raging argument to subside, Jaehyun rubs his jaw, debating what to say next. “...so that’s it? We-we are really doing this? Cause we’ve been here before, an—”

You let out a groan of frustration at his pathetic attempt to stop him from talking more. Of course, it’s easy for him to say that, you think, holding that forsaken question under your breath once again as though you want this, as though it’s simple. The way he poses it too, while wearing nothing but skepticism on his face as if he didn’t see this coming after so many meaningless arguments, angers you even more. He’s beautiful, but at times like this, all you want to do is slap all of that beauty straight out of his face.

But perhaps that’s exactly what’s bothering you—your obsession with his nonchalanc-y, which you used to find sexy, now seems to be eating away at your feelings. Stoic expression, a face, and a clenched jaw is all that’s meeting you, so maybe, finding him attractive during these fights does make you crazy. 

You take a moment to gather your thoughts before answering, realizing that you’re never going to get anywhere by dragging your eyes along every contour on his delicious face anyway. Surely, it has kept you running back to him. A moment of weakness. And for some stupid unknown reason, he has always tasted even better after every fight. How? But also no! Not this time. You promise!

“What do you want from me, Jaehyun!? Since there’s no telling where we’re going, and it’s been like this for months! I think you’ve been under the impression that I’d wait forever, holding on- and on to what you’ve never said and never will. But I’m not trying to do this anymore! I am seriously not! I’m sick of getting only half of you. I’m done playing open cards. I’m done! Whatever this is… it’s-it’s over.”

Jaehyun scowls at you and ceases his pacing in the middle of the room. 

There! Finally, a sign of disturbance. Though you two have been together long enough for you to learn through his impassiveness and all those small, tangible details that guard his innate tender, it’s still difficult to shake an emotion out of him—a real, deep-seated emotion that takes your ‘situationship’ into account.

Simultaneously, perhaps that will help explain why he ‘might even have’ a reason to dislike you, given that you were the only one who witnessed him at his most vulnerable. The only person who truly knows him; nevertheless, he has been growing increasingly aloof lately, so maybe that’s not something he’s into anymore. Maybe all he’s doing is just returning to his former self, the one who existed before the shattered shell you met. And maybe at last he has put his every piece back together and realized that sensitivity is the devil’s bitch and that in this ring, he’s a dog on his own.

Right… Too many ‘maybes’, but he doesn’t give you much to go on for you to consider any other options anyway. 

Instead, he smoothes the cap over his head for the forty-ninth time, then flips it back so the bill is in front of his eyes and covers them slightly. Like this, his jawline adopts an even more defined shape. His lips... 

The aura of mystery he exudes boots right back in. Given the esoteric shadow cast over his cheekbones, he seems even more prepared to walk out of the door at any moment. Or else you can anticipate more of his wicked smiles, lies, and games if he chooses to stay. 

Ironically, he really knows how to wear the cap’s logo, which befits his unserious dead humor. ‘Hysteric’ remains blasted on his head in Times New Roman, but there’s not a trace of hysteria in his character at the moment, as much as you’d like him to have.

Though you wish he were, because if he were, it’d mean he still finds significance in this and that he’s prepared to fight. But that’s not the case at all right now; his voice is as calm and collected as ever, lacking any incline.

Bizarrely enough, the thing that, sort of, falls under that statement are, in fact, your nerves. They rave as you watch him. They fry at the edges. You start to sound even more irate as you think he’s not losing anything, while you seem to be the only one.

Though the words are loaded like a gun, you don’t want to come across as foolish or desperate. But as he offers you no other option, you believe that to be the only picture you paint at this point. And you don’t care if it’s an ugly one.

You’re also having a hard time with your thoughts because they seem to go on forever and it takes you a long time to organize them into something to say. So you just take a moment to ignore him and turn your head away from him, giving the fight another breath, but once you’re ready to go again, he’s somehow closer to you. Significantly closer to you, and only you know how dangerous that is.

You go on, continuing to rant, but all you can seem to focus on are his lips and how they shape with each little thing he says. He’s really of little words in deep tones if you must say so, and—

Well-Fuck! You are caught touring his lips again!! 

You’ve no idea how he manages to keep them so balmed and dreamy at all times. Tangerine dusk pours through the windows and contrasts with the same shade of the lamp, making his lips look like melted wax, beckoning you. So sticky, sweet icing-coated, enticing you to lick... Oh, he’s making you sick.

You wave your head, shaking the nasties that have accumulated. Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. If anything, the fucker knows!

He then makes a move toward you, only this time you’re unsure of whether to regard these steps as your victories or defeats.

As you go on, you find yourself stumbling over your words more and more, observing him removing his cap off of his head once again and running his fingers through his hair, just like he has done countless times before, except this time he doesn’t put it back; instead, he throws it down on the sofa. 

Needless to say, there’s something innately dangerous, something deeply unbalanced and maniacal in the way he tilts his head to one side and slowly brushes his hair back as his jet strands catch inside the gaps of his knuckles. Their drag… The glare he gives you... Working his eyes out in the most possible way to make a wreak out of you... He has to, how could he not? You’re a delight to enjoy.  

A rabid. The charm of his masculinity surges up as he watches you from the tilted angle. Something deep inside of him transfers esoterically inside your soul. You want him to get deeper into your anger, realizing you’re both just as toxic.

You should tell him to walk away! That he has ruined the evening! That—

But then… he’s looking at you like this... with the absolute right amount of fucked up...

and maybe that’s why you can’t escape, 

and maybe that’s exactly why he can’t escape either, as he knows how much you love this. 

It’s sick. Absolutely. Entirely. As it backfires all over again; as it all burns up and the orange bathes in the dull black of his eyes. No doubt, he’s your top choice trouble.

But-But you’ve had enough of that cup! You’ve had enough of trouble! You don’t want more! You—

-

You won’t be shaken. He won’t have an effect on you this time. 

Step by step, you move away from him in an attempt to create a space that he keeps closing. You’re conscious of the fact that your eyes dart all over the place and are never focused on his, which gives away the fact that you aren’t really serious about ending this, but you manage nonetheless.

“Sure,” There’s poison in your voice as you begin your closing argument, oblivious to the fact that it’d become just another rant and soften from its vicious substance. 

“I-I was lonely when I met you, but so were you! I knew you were lonely too. And it worked... Rather somehow…” 

Hesitating, you cast a sidelong glance at your feet, as though trying to remember something, but in the end, failing.

“I don’t know. Maybe we talked more?” Posing the questions to yourself, you pout. “Or? Maybe not? I don’t know. I really don’t know!”

Even though you’re feeling extremely tense, rattled, and frail in your own skin, you look up to him as you proceed. What more is he capable of doing? He’s nothing but a pretty face—It’s your preferred perception. What’s currently more believable. The simpler way out. That he’s not at all complex; and is just as blunt and empty as he wants to make the impression. That the few words birthed from his soft, pouty, supple, unkissed sunkissed lips are nothing but futile, meaningless, and devoid.

However, there appears to be a deep crease developing between his eyebrows, so perhaps your impression of him is inaccurate(?) You aren’t sure why, but all of a sudden you get scared at the possibility that it could mean something. Hell! Looking at him drains you immensely. But-but you-you have t—

“Our fights have stripped us of all our beauty… I’m just left watching you drift farther away.” 

As his brows knit, so do yours. You’re debating whether or not to acknowledge your emotions, but in the end, you do. 

“To be honest, it’s hurting me. But regardless how ugly the experience is, it’s made me realize how much you mean to me. But still… I know that’s not an excuse to stay with you. I tried to play it cool at first because we were never really stable, but— Not anymore!”

“I don’t know... I feel like there’s nothing I can do anymore. And yes! We’ve already had this conversation. It seems that you particularly like bringing up that fact... Except nothing has been fixed since the last time we fought, J. I wouldn’t be so proud to mention it. It’s merely there to serve as a reminder that we are constantly failing. You say it as though there’s some reason we shouldn’t end this right now, and I’m not sure why you’d even bring that up. I really don’t... We’re no fit for each other.”

Your tone rises at ‘That’s the truth!’ implying that you’re still not prepared to think about it and that you don’t want to accept it, for it to only become more painfully sad and subdued in the following affirming, “That’s the truth…” 

You hesitate a moment more before saying the next thing, as it feels like daggers are stabbing into your heart, but you do it nonetheless. Breathing also becomes more difficult as your chest begins to feel constricted, but you force yourself to swallow the fear ball stuck in your throat. Feverous, a shiver of cold runs up your spine as you watch him with your final words. “We failed to save each other. I you… you me.”

With his teeth ground down, Jaehyun rolls his eyes. Your words just feel like a smack. It’s like your attitude has just now put him in a bad mood as if you’re trying your best to leave a permanent crease in between his brows.

You know he’d rather be numb than angry, but the feeling boils within him. You feel that he’s on the verge of just snapping, but he won’t do it outright. In a way, you almost kind of admire that ability of his—to be so patient, as he secretly harbors passive-aggressive tendencies.

Catching a glimpse, you notice his nails scrape through layers of palm flesh as his fingers ball into fists. He continues to clench and unclench them as though he’s encouraging blood flow, but there’s more to the action than that.

And as though he’s suddenly transformed into an animal, he moves his jaw a bit before locking it and pressing his teeth into a dense snarl.

Maybe it aches; maybe he’s in excruciating pain, but he doesn’t show it. The skin collapses in his cheeks, leaving them sunken. His face has the power to kill. It’s deadly... Sexy.

You’re expecting to hear some mean words from him too; and they’re possibly waiting on his lips, hanging in the air between you two like a thread waiting to be cut. 

And so, he finally speaks up. “You’re so easy to give up,” his voice as deeply warm as it can get—contradictory in and of itself, just like he is.

The word choice?? It catches you off guard. Even shocks you. Suddenly? Abruptly and seriously? Just like that!? Of all the words and expressions conceivable, and after you’ve been berating him for so long, all you get back is that? Really!? You find them so unbelievably funny that you can’t help but smirk miserably and accept their presumed grim sarcasm.

Asking rhetorically, you follow their ironic trajectory, “So easy to give up!?” playing it off cynically at first until you’re no longer able to. Then, as you continue, your voice grows huskier; he actually provides the reason for you to do so, encouraging you to take things seriously when he won’t. 

“How am I so easy to give up!? Tell me! Tell me, do I give up easily? Or-uh-do I hold on too long, Jaehyun!? Cause I gave us—This… enough time and realized what I want will never be enough… I need to take care of myself.”

Saying, “You are selfish,” he takes another step. His eyebrow arches subconsciously as he says the word, which is also repulsively beautifully formed by his lips. But what does it mean? What does he mean!??

“Wow,” you’re left sneering and scoffing in disbelief. “And can you blame me!? For wanting to protect myself? For wishing better for myself!? Because you—” In the heat, you even step over a boundary as you take a step towards him too, pointing and pressing your index finger at his chest. “You are so distant! You hardly express what you feel. I can’t get through to you. It’s like I have you but I don’t-really…” Almost as if it had finally drowned in sorrow, your voice becomes faint and gentle. “I’m tired, Jay.” 

Your eyes say the same thing, there’s a sudden despair in them. A vision that perpetually sinks. Eyes of ‘the conquered.’ Glossy. Your tears are asking for permission as you say,  “You-you are like something I can’t really have... And-and every time we have this conversation, you-you love to-to change it,” you feel your lips quiver. “To-to stop it. To—”

“Stop!” Jaehyun interrupts your delirious thoughts as he takes the last step and closes any gap that may exist between you two.

“Don’t!” You shout back at whatever move, aim, or objective he may have. But remain still, resolute, and maintain your ground. Not yet waving the white, even though he’s so close—so excessively, painfully close—that he’s able to feel the quivering waves coming from your body. So awfully close that his scent is gnawing at your nose. It’s insistent, just like his perpetually clenched jawline. His jawbone might shatter from such thightness.

The stimulation all comes in spasms. Your walls crumble on themselves, gripping, tightening, constricting... Your body begins to prepare for a fit of sobbing. Hot. Quaver. Fever. Literally, you writhe in agony under his intimidating breath that seeps beneath your skin and sinks its daggered claws within. However, you gasp for air as your own breath slips from your fingertips. 

Whispery, “I wish I—I could be true…” intimately, “to you, Jeong…” vulnerably, “I really do… But it’s plain to see I’m not the one.”

Silence. 

A profound sense of loss spreads through the room and meditates on the lifeless air. Despite the body closeness, there’s a lingering emptiness that feels like the quiet of a hall on a cold winter night. 

The sun fades to shadows, chasing the sunset away. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, bluish-dark inks the sky. Duplicates of the two of you on the walls due to the lamp’s remaining orange. The only thing left after such a confession is that the ground appears really lovely and that you ought to concentrate on it till he separates and walks away. 

It nearly stops your heart when Jaehyun’s pensive, icy fingers circle around your chin and lift your face to pull you closer.

His slightly black mullet trickles along his earlobes. With a furious look, he rolls his lower lip between his teeth. In thought, though, there’s still resoluteness residing on his face at which you want to scream, ‘SAY SOMETHING TO ME.’

But why? Why would you want more, knowing it’d only prove a disaster and cause more misery? 

Thus, you grab his wrist angrily, forcing him to stop controlling your face and eyes so you can only focus on his. You’ve also had the best teacher in him because he has always been so competitive. Two can therefore grit their teeth at each other.

There’s also a lot of resistance initially due to his strength. You both lose a little bit of balance as he counter-grips your wrist, and you briefly rustle as your bodies come into contact. What matters is that his hand does, in the end, get ripped away from your chin. 

With his empty hands by his sides, Jaehyun gently blinks multiple times, and all of a sudden, everything changes—the energy, the atmosphere... him… you. 

His lips flat into a bread-shaped smile, causing lovley holes to sink at his cheeks. You hear nothing but a cry of help through his tiny, adorable smile, which may indicate that he refuses to offer a piece of his heart because he doesn’t think it’ll be kept unbroken. His almond eyes liquid with anxiety as you expect his voice to soften again and tell you another pretty lie.

Lacking specificity, you ask sharply, “How do you do that?” squinting cynically because you find it incredible. What you’re referring to, though, is the way he transitions between such extreme emotions in such a tranquil, almost graceful, manner. It astounds you. You’d never see him in total distress. He won’t show it. 

A little perplexed, Jaehyun asks, “Do what?” 

There’s no way that he’s oblivious to it, so you feel compelled to lash out once more, but all you do is shake your head a little and roll your eyes, which is the equivalent of ‘nevermind.’ This way, you restrain yourself from repeating the same things over and over. Besides, what would be their point?

A second moment of silence ensues. 

To release some of his tension, Jaehyun lifts his chin and purses his lips, adjusting the loose collar of his shirt, and continues in the same manner, bending his neck side to side while hooking his fingers to his chain necklace and moving it around. 

Not knowing so, or rather so, he’s easily creating very frustrating hypnotism, teasing you in with each twist of his finger around his necklace. His veins are throbbing and protruding, and his tense neck cords are drawing the majority of your attention. His bare neck seems to be begging you to desert your lips on the scent of his perfume. At the same time, if your fingers had a chance, they’d also trace the familiar lines of his collars…..

Yikes! You seem to be clinging again, so Jaehyun bites his smile a couple of times and drags his tongue across his teeth before beaming widely. You shake your head but are unable to resist the invitation to smile yourself when his puffy eyes curve up. His flirty dimples seek your thumbs. This motherfucker…

Altering between hotness and sweetness should be considered a crime. Jail time is due for him. No way are you flirting back.

There seems to be an addiction to space, so proximity is key. But if he gets any closer with this newfound, unfair energy, you fear that you won’t be able to let him go.

In fact, Jaehyun does just that. Being quite competitive, he’d not want to finish second in a game where the person who keeps reaching closer wins.

Naturally, time slows down on itself. And yet more is said now—in the space, between the breaths, and after all those mean words. Could it be that you are becoming a fan of the hushness he so preaches?

His brow lifts again, but this time it’s more like a test, with his slightly blown-out, intrigued eye asking, ‘Why is it so hard for you to believe that I like you?’ It’s playful, but it manipulates you by raising doubts in your mind, making you wonder if he really means, ‘Do I like you?’

Feeling a little roused on the inside, you look at him with the same intensity that he does, and really the only thing separating you two at this moment is your willingness to reach out. 

In spur, eyes, lips, and notions are all involved in the play. Jaehyun’s sensuality is just accelerating on top of your angsts. And every playful bite of his lips telepathically leads you in soft-spoken: Open your eyes; Open the keys; Open the mind. Just senses pleading with you to open them. Sight and smell are relatively easy to cross off the list, but taste and touch are a tad bit more tricky.

Lingering just at the tip of your nose, the weight of his perfume raptures you even more so now than previously. It feels as though you’re allowing him to reclaim control over you by allowing his magic to work.

And it does, elevating you to an unexplainable height. If perfume can offer a little sense of who somebody is, his attests to the warmth of his character. Pricey but never pretentious, you assume there seems to be a depth behind his tendency to favor musky scents. As they settle into the skin of each person differently, they have a unique, layered appeal. This intricacy speaks to Jaehyun in a way that’s similar to him and the various facets that comprise his identity. He’s the mild heat of spring—subtle but all at once intense.

That, plus the fact that you’re tipping more to your toes, more to his nose. Again, balance becomes a wavy thing as you’re beginning to lose to the chemical waves.

You overheat, and there’s this ecstatic tingling in your toes—this burning sensation!! 

Cooling you down, the wooden floor feels surprisingly nice and cold under your feet. Melting. His lips are steering your emotions, making you loathe the remaining distance between you. And finally, finally, losing yourself- as you descend into the depths of his eyes. 

Jaehyun is just smoothly succeeding in wrapping himself around you like the night...

Your crazed heart makes your chest dance to such a heavy rhythm. Your breaths are shallow, and your eyes are—

Pretty malicious, Jaehyun reaches out and slowly runs his knuckles down your cheek as to worsen it all. 

With an even more seductive tone and a teasing smile, he asks softly. “What’s the deal, baby?”

Oh god... 

A long, trembling sigh escapes you.

He knows! He knows he has to do so little... As if the electric vibrations weren’t already enough, he causes more!! Ghoosbumps begin to form houses along your skin. A powerful, uncomfy warmth ascends from your throat and becomes embedded in your cheeks. Well, this is what happens when a person’s voice becomes your favorite auditory hallucination.

A deep, velvety tone, a voice that belongs in a museum. Best when he’s used it to read you. Valentine warm after he’s led you in a song. Carnal, and in shady hues when he whispers. Such a wild thing, how your thoughts won’t stop romanticizing it. It’s all that you want to hear—as if everything ever stemmed from these id-driven impulses—is to ask for only his voice… Only his voice! And you CAN be greedy…

Once he nuzzles your nose and presses his tample against yours, your body sinks. Your closed eyes are a final measure of restrain as his breath mingles with yours. Thoughts race past like speeding cars. How in the world are you supposed to stop them? Your mouth gets clumsy in the end, it betrays you. 

“I-I shouldn’t want you.” You blurt.

Jaehyun smiles in front of your lips and confirms in a flirty, “No-pe.” Just steering your comment in the direction of something good... Because yes, you should—

As you lie, your eyes open. “I really shouldn’t shouldn’t want you!”

Which makes his smile widen even more. His whiskers creasing invisible lines in his cheeks. An artist, indeed... On sinister thought, an angel’s grin.

To say you don’t love him is a lie. To say you love him is an understatement. To say you love him, you can’t. To say you love him now, you arn’t allowed to. It’s basically hell. 

You’re doomed. You’re screwed with this magical person standing in front of you. 

Yes! Exactly! HOW DOES HE DO THAT?

“How can something so wrong feel so right, then?” He tases in a low voice, dragging his nose across your cheek like a scar. It’s irrelevant if he’s referring to ‘this’ thing or himself. The final point is, he does things to you, and he knows it.

You groan a soft “Jaehyun,” with a mixture of protest and pleasure.

Contrarily, Jaehyun puts his hands around your waist and begins climbing. His lips start to brush under your ear and against your neck.

Shit-SHIT- 

Are you going to fall all the way into his hands, or what? 

What the devil kind of communication are you supposed to give? What does he expect you to answer? He’s the most bitter sweet, sweetness, heaven sent—

“You are... so...bad,” you drag as his lips rediscover the most delicate spots on your neck, and his muffled hums and moans accompany each kiss. 

He acts to support the statement that was meant to be the general response to your question, so it gets a little derived and distorted with what he does, and you find yourself tossing your head back.

He ascends back up, rubbing a nasty “Yeah?” in your face and planting a smiley-boyish kiss to the side of your cheek next to your ear. His damp, choked breath on your skin; his whisper filling your ear; his smoky energy... “So are you, babe.”

FUCK. Awful! Foul. But your body listens. Your wants are left twisting up in knots, and you know only one thing will unlace...

But your mouth... 

Your mouth can’t stop sabotaging and pointing out the nonexistent problems, which almost always become problems later on. This might get you the ‘big mouth’ rep but there’s a lot of good coming out that just gets interlaced with some bad.  So, yes. True. You’re bad. But so are you both.

There’s a fireside of warmth he has aroused inside you and your lips are almost touching, but but—

“That’s… That’s why the outline of this is wrong.”

—you’re a little stubborn... so if he thinks your brain can take a backseat and let you be so easygoing, then he’s got it wrong. It’ll take longer.

Jaehyun’s fingertips, though, continue to trace along the length of your arm, calling you his with every line while his nose lightly rubs against yours, prompting you to—

“Is it?” he asks. 

But maybe that’s what gets him. The ‘longer’. The far more difficult route to the goal. The much larger build-up. Love that bites. Love like war... Sometimes necessary quiet like love in a hunt. Love like the end of the world.

They warned you about him…

You breathe out the air you’ve been holding in your lungs and slip away from him. Depressed by his lukewarm replies, you respond coolly, “Of course, that’s how you’d answer.” 

Sincerely, you want to stop; you want to be able to raise your chin, extend your chest, lift your shoulders and project strength, but the situation is so sad that all of its burdens fall upon you, causing you to slouch and feel its full weight once more.

For a hot minute, your tongue stays tied around your throat, as if it were forming an unbreakable noose around your neck. You two exist in this quiet, as all that keeps coming to mind is how beautifully his dark hair frames his face.

And after living in it briefly, you ask quietly, “What happened to you? What happened to us, Jaeh—”

He cuts in, “Oh, come on!” pointing a finger at you disapprovingly and raising his voice a bit, if not for the first time. “Don’t minimize us!” 

However, as he goes on, his mouth mirrors his anguish, almost taking on a very faint, repulsive, sick look as he blurts out the words. It moves in disgust, but it hardly opens at all. Like he’s repelled by what he’s hearing or because he’s speaking back in a similarly offensive way(?) 

“It’s rather insulting and beneath your design... To drive me away... When-when I’m not.”

The comment so easily revolts you back that just—

“I don’t have to drive you away, Jaehyun! You are away by definition... You are so away, you’re unavailable!” 

Fuck!

You pause when the bobbling sensation inside of you rips at your throat, burning your eyes and causing tears to well up like water in a den but other than that you try to hold onto whatever crumb of strength you have left and continue. What does it matter if a hot tear rolls down your cheek and bruises it like a sharp diamond edge?

“I wait for you... I-I fucking watch for you, Jaehyun. The look on your face controls every feeling I have. I can’t fucking breathe because I’m waiting for you. It’s sick! It’s making me sick. I’m sick by it! I’m—I’m sick while all you do is cut my wrists so there’s no love for me- to- reac—” 

Love??? 

Struck that the word left your mouth, you shut your eyes. Stupid! But then again, what did you expect? It can only surface in circumstances this excruciating. And no one has ever said the word up until now. It has never existed in the dictionary you share.

And you may blame your fuzzy vision on the tears that have welled up, or you can blame the small space separating you, but neither of these arguments can discount the fact that the word also takes Jaehyun by surprise and is left doing something to him too.

It’s impossible to miss the red that quickly built up in his ears—it’s not been there all evening. It looks so out of place against his ivory skin. Though nuanced, the action is very telling in itself. Something so intense and visceral that even his mind is powerless to stop it. The slightest clue that only you and he understand its significance and how unsettlingly intimate it is.

Or maybe you’re projecting again? Maybe you just want it to mean something(?) Maybeee… May—

You—You shouldn’t have used that word so carelessly! You— 

In truth, you feel crushed by its weight. You feel like you’re ripped bare in the middle of the room and you can’t dress up your feelings again. But there’s also this bizarre solace in the fact that you don’t have to anymore. As the tears begin, your voice, cadence, and delivery are all off.  As if they haven’t been already... But you can’t stop now; you’re inside the flux.

“Offer me a promise. Some people carry them in their back pockets, Jaehyun, why can’t you? Can’t you just make one?” Imagine how ironic it’s that you look down to the side pockets of his cargo pants, hoping he’ll pull them from there. But zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. As you go, you’re ugly and desperate. “Even-Even if it doesn’t get fulfilled. Even if it’s just a lie. Please, please just-just say something.”

Jaehyun rubs his temple before combing his hair back, at last giving in to this hour-long argument. 

“You know I don’t do that. I have never! I’ve never given false promises and I’ve never lied, even though you enjoy using that against me.” 

You know it carries a lot when he calls your name, “.........., this victim blaming has become so casual that—that I somehow always become the spectacle.”

With each painful heartbeat, those pitiful butterflies that occupy the pit of your stomach evolve into bees that sting. The room keeps closing on you as you cry one of the hottest tears you have ever cried, which, to put it simply, causes you to lose the plot. Your words begin to drag on and on, as if you’re barely sewing them together.

“See, you-you can’t… You aren’t willing. No, it’s pretending that you care. You don’t! And we’ve promised to fix—and-and we haven—”

Right now, everything is flying over your head, and it’s too much to try and process whether by getting closer to you again he’s trying to tell you that he’s won the argument or....... 

but he does. Jaehyun closes your distance from each other.

You keep your eyes at your feet when his tone softens to one of tenderness again, like the aggressive one isn’t his choice and will never be his choice. It’s only you who can’t make the distinction if he’s speaking with pangs just now or just plain—

“You don’t trust me. You’ve never, in fact.”

“I don’t? … I haven’t?”

You suppress a sob, but your body makes it obvious. But you decide to lift your head and confront him; this is what he’s made of you… A mess—from the ‘home’ he’s constructed around himself. What hurts you is every brick he placed there for protection.

You try again, completely torn. Even your voice is defeated. Long-suffering and tender, “How have I not, Jaehyun? How have I not?” 

-

That leaves you staring into the deep brown abyss. His eyes have become very glossy; perhaps he’s tired. Streaks of moonlight gold and fragments of stolen sunsets appear every time the corner light strikes them ‘just right.’ For a moment, you’re grateful that you have a warm place to return to…

However, one minute you’re on fire, the next you’re burned. That’s just how it works. Initially, you believe it to be the dead petals from the dried rose that have fallen onto your candle next to it and caught fire, but it’s actually the entire thing. This entire thing stinks. It stings.

You dab away the tears in your eyes and smother out the flame, which is cutting off the air and the charring stench is making you ill. Whatever, anyway, on a long enough timeline, you’re bound to get burned; everybody is flammable. 

You take a deep swallow and then say what’s already been on your mind for most of the evening. 

“I won’t say anything more... I-I think… you should walk away. You ruined the evening.”

…Right. Enough playing house with each other’s feelings. 

-

Be that as it may, all of the ‘distance’ between you and him can be summed up in a single word that right now just so happens to be on your tongue. It’d also be easier if one of you could say it, but it’s hard to swallow pride when you’re prideful on both sides. 

At first, the way he squints and rolls his tongue suggests that your words have surprised him. But somewhat, gravity shifts quietly, gently. Something heavy, almost out of balance, is in his dark eyes. You think they’re absorbing as they walk from yours down to your lips and back to your eyes again, and perhaps for the last time. Like as if he’s penetrating your doubt with his last seductive stare, the one that touches you without touching. 

Breathing in moisture from abstract feelings, love on fire, and mischief well-hung onto his lips, Jaehyun asks softly, “You want me to leave?”

Your gut is in knots as you rip off a breathy, “You don’t want to stay.”

………

He gives you a deeply mistrusting look and then his thumbs dig into your cheeks as he yanks you tight towards him. 

Not even time for you to—BLANK—you’re in clutches of uncontrollable desire; your heart lunches into your throat. It feels like a ship crashing as your lips meet.

Your impulsory senses too betray every right you spent the entire night fighting for, as your hands rise to his face, grasping it firmly to do the exact same thing Jaehyun is doing to you: keep him in place for you. 

Except for his velvety lips, nothing about the kiss is gentle. Yanking, pulling, and gasping. And the more you hold him in, the more your hands become careless and he makes you bleed as your palms nearly cut at the sharpest, softest edges of his jaw. You’re cut up, down, and in between. 

His tongue thrusts its way inside your mouth, savagely sucking away the transparent nectar that has just about begun to mingle. Fervor and tingling sensations shoot from up your spine and into your head and back down your chest as you moan at the heavy, wet sighs that come from his mouth. The spiraling of your energies is causing your noses to crash constantly. 

Continuous, continuous crashing. He’s a type you want to fully devour simply because he’s too ambitious to just let you get on top of him. It’s a dog-eat-dog right now. Just this insistent, indecent sound of lipsmacking, him cramming his feelings in through the gaps when they allow, his scorching cheeks under your palms, and him crushing you with energy. 

And Jaehyun hardly ever initiates kisses like this on his own. He’s often siding with soft, caressing kisses and daisy touches. So perhaps you do bring out the worst in him? Maybe you do mistake his gentleness for a lack of trust after all. Considering that your attitude during these arguments usually results in this pattern of kissing. 

Still, you’d be pleased to learn just how much he likes them too. How much he enjoys a little dominance race for it only to get so disproportionate and borderline that, by the end, surprisingly, somehow both of you come out same. Just... you’d be surprised to know how much, at his worst, he wants to triumph through passive control but secretly needs more of those who confront and challenge this behavior in him. And that’s either soothing each other’s fire or adding more. And while neither of these are evidence of perfection, love also lacks perfection. So it’s why he’s constantly gatekeeping; it’s safer this way and more easier.  

But here’s you—who constantly likes to demand these rawest gatekeeps out of him—that are his love, feelings, and vulnerability, and those are things that can be unnervingly frail and fracturable, so no wonder you terrify him.  

Things that ought to be handled with care. Which leads you both to the issue of a lack of mutual trust. While your ingrained insecurity makes you not trust him because he’s not cooperating, his ingrained doubt that you can handle those things with care makes him not trust you. Ultimately, the situation stems from a case of miscommunicated love and belief, which allows uncertainty to creep in.

But with the way you fight him in this kiss—in all such kisses, in fact, it’s as if you’re installing faith that you mean to get to the bottom of him,

just as he’s doing the same to you, with the force with which he’s kissing you  

But occasionally—sometimes it might be too late. Possibly too late if you don’t—

You moan, “Jaehyun,” hot, dazed, and frenzied, but trying to let him know it’s gotten so much as your hands stray from his stunning face and move to his chest in an attempt to push him. The kiss is but a bruising power struggle between you, with neither emerging victorious. It feels like a struggle for a final touch—your love on a battlefield. And the gore of it engulfs you as you’re drowning and sinking deeper. 

It’s a kiss that isn’t like the ones either of you’d eventually forget. It’s a bite, greedy, and all too real. And it seems to he’s forgotten how to stop. It carries on and on until you find yourself submerged in his hands as he sinks you to the sofa with his grip on your waist. 

At a sudden, violent fall, the couch gives way to a horrifying screech, and that’s about the only moment he pulls back for you both to catch a breath. In any case, you’re the most you’ve ever been under his possession—in his arms…

Yeah? And what about his waist… being strangled between your knees and in your mercy?

Right... Silence. 

Sat-up Jaehyun is pressing up against yours and his hands are pulling you closer still. However, the loss of balance slightly gives you a tad bit of a domineering look since, from this position, you look down at him, which is what both of you are all about—a hot mess of a dynamic. Something unanalysable.

Opening your eyes to confront Jaehyun’s after what just happened is an obvious fright. 

Certainly, it’d be yet another serial reminder that you’ve completed a full circle and are back at square one, failing yourself. But, as soon as you open your eyes, and you do open your eyes, all that helps give you the impression that now you two are coming in a full cycle is him and his dumbass dimples. Like, ‘Yes, We are so back!’

Yes… they’re very much sooo back. For someone who indeed makes it hard for you to make out if there’s velvet beneath all of that Rock or all rock under that velvety beauty, the majority of the time his dimples do blow away his cover. Their means is to say that he’s one tender being; more so, not everyone is blessed with dimples; this’s not to say that only special people have them, but it’s a fact of life. And he’s been entrusted to carry this gift, and he’s special, and you know this… and—is just—

That he’s made to contradict; it’s just a side quest of the whole scheme. His eyes seem to shimmer with a fleck of flame, one that feels inextinguishable but all the same kittenish and playful. Of course, you can expect him to get naughtier and act more roguish after a kiss like that. It’s as though someone has finally let him in like a cat through a door.

In case your heart wasn’t in a coma before, it is now.

There’s a faint rose on his cheeks, but what’s of explosive color are again his ears. Needless to say, you can also expect him not to want to address that, as it’s yet another cute, sinister way his body is designed to fail his mysterious self.

In the kiss, you were pretty much the worst enemy he has ever had, and now he’s back to being cute and wagging his tail around you. His angel-filled eyes and sinfully intoxicating, sweet lips effortlessly elicit a smile from you, which means he has overpowered your thirsty lips. Except now you do live along the coast surface of his exploited lips, even past them and inside, and that one fact is doing everything it’s supposed to do, turning you hot and bothered.

The kiss in itself has a strong, lingering aftertaste, just like his scent, and your fingers, nose, waist, and even your knees are the places where you can still feel him. Practically every area of your body has a throbbing pulse—one behind each ear, one on the left side of your neck, one on your right wrist, near veins, inner thighs, arch of your left foot, under your jaw... too many places… You feel like dying. Fuck…

It’s as though the kiss carried his potency, which now floats from neuron to neuron getting lost in your space until it’s drawn you into an empty corner; And you remain there, as sick in the head as you are for him, with your body being hotter than fire for him. You’re losing you again, piece by piece and second by second exactly the way he knew you would. 

For a moment his lips slightly part as if he were going to speak, but he stays silent. You too. Even if you were able to form a thought, it’d be buried in your throat, making it impossible for you to say anything. Rather, you allow this corrupted sensuality to speak for itself as it transmits between your tied bodies.

Your hand trembles a little as you let your fingers approach his face. And when they do land, it’s like touching morning dew; he’s as light as a summer mist. 

Feeling his skin, your eyes follow your fingers with precision as you take in every detail for the thousandth time, like a first time. His silken hair is in disharmony from the makeout so you go to fix that before moving your thumb along his brow to smooth out the mess there too. A plethora of bristly hairs, give or take, submit to your touch. And you look at them as though under a microscope, like a geek with a slight brow fetish, wishing to lick them. You’re obsessed with his eyebrows; if essence is everywhere, it’s also overwhelmingly there too.

But it’s true that you rather concentrate on anything tiny than give Jaehyun your undivided attention… All while he’s watching you and letting you do as you please. Though a heinous smirk does start to flicker across his lips, shifting from one corner to the other, and as soon as you finish adjusting his brow and perhaps are ready to proceed to something else, Jaehyun grabs your wrist, robbing you of your next action.

Bringing your hand lower, and adopting a much comfier, in truth, arrogant position by tilting his head back and resting it on the sofa, he separates your same ‘so generous thumb’, and slowly takes it inside his mouth. 

Heyyyyyyyyyyy—No warning, no fucking not—

You hiss, ready with your “F-” to cuss but bite and swallow the rest of it. Way louder ‘Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!’ stay rippling in your head though, as he takes the finger deeper and deeper and his eyes and lips share the same smile, and 

This m—

The man is too motherfucking happy to stop! That’s what it is. Causing you to frown and tie your brows fucking forever... 

As he coats your thumb in wet, your mouth feels incredibly parched. With every successive push forward to pull you back again, his cheek muscles contract, tense, relax, and hollow out, sucking you in.

Your vision gradually goes haywire, like sugar that has just begun to boil from clear to burnt. With every sensual fluff of his lashes, your heart caramelizes to a deep, rich brown. Between every pull, spit slides, feeling slimy on your skin and sticking like candy. You’re all soft inside, melted and gooey.

Pleasure mounts, and your body is fighting an awful war to stay strong but really it’s giving in. You swear he can feel every nuance of this self-conflict, down to the smallest tingle with each wrap of his tongue round your thumb. All the way down to your pounding heart and bouncing thoughts; All the way—

If it’s of consequence, you know that there’s a hard mental play going on, but now aren’t even in the right frame of mind to consider how much of one. 

Not when his other pair of digits slip beneath your shirt. Not when they trail down your spine like he’s trying to break it, pushing you into an arch. Not when—

You finally manage to drag out your finger from his mouth, sighing and pouting as you say, “J,” ready with something more to say but eventually it gets ripped off your head like anything else. 

Is this beautiful aware of the number of heartbreaks he has caused you?

No—No, can’t! Can’t be thinking about th—you shove aside that thought also and start lowering onto his face and feel his arm wrap tightly around you just below your ribcage, arching you even more into him. Your shirt gets caught in the same way as a theater curtain riding up, exposing more of your skin and he’s the only one seated for the show. A private poetry. 

His fingers graze each hollow space in your ribs, and the rest of the fabrics in between conceive a roughness that drives your skin into tears. The brain-twister is this: Are you tough and resistant, like the denim you wear?

Hmph, definitely not! That success you scripted, though, is over…

Motion generates friction; friction generates heat... your head is filled with smoke. There’s nothing you could possibly use in your head. All it’s made up there now is of abominable thoughts and smoke.

Clinging to his lips by only a few millimeters, you refuse him or yourself to let them come into contact still. Rather let yourself feel his breath on your face and get bruised up because of it. A pain of pleasuring in the company of pain. Yes, this is your self-inflicting prison. This prolonged, delayed intimacy, this sick turn-on... It’s just his rock falling into your heart again, like an ice cube that scuttles past grasping hands and obnoxiously skates into a whisky glass, making a splash out of you. 

Regardless of how crazy or subdued the evening gets, it’s all fucked eventually. It’s fucking messy. However, that’s just the way life is—he’s the only one who has ever told you, ‘It’s okay to be messy, baby… I’m on your side.’ 

Fucking irony… 

Dimly lit, the room is a depressing sight. Little red wine specks cover the couch, appearing to have fallen apart like the holes in some of his shirts. A silver zippo next to an empty ashtray that’s always left with just dust in it. Smudges stain the coffee table, and a pool of melancholy is created at the base of the candle, marking another stain as wax oozes and seeps down the sides. Its honeysuckle scent is so invasive, spreading like a disease in slow motion.

You’re worn down completely and irrevocably. Throwing your head back, a sigh rips from the pit of your stomach. The sound of your ribs snapping in half is like the cozy crackling sound of his record player, taking you back to the vinyl he played for you two weeks ago.

Warm. Pressing at the dip where your collarbones meet, his moist lips feel warm against your skin. And he’s taking his time this time around; his tongue is tamed along your collar line, if not overly lazy. It clings fragilely to your throat, choking you until breathing starts to feel more like a chore than a necessity—until you’re drowning from the carbon dioxide that’s swimming in your veins. 

You pull away for a second just to sail back into the black oily sea of his eyes, saving the sight for later in the week when it’s going to get tough. You both secretly tie to stave off the night for as long as possible but time is a human construct and will spill its numbers on the floor.

Petty, his fingernails dig into your waist on each side, and the tiny, pointy scrapes that pierce your flesh, accidentally trigger your inner underdog.

Mad! You’re not just mad, you’re furious. Angry at having to let him go. Selfish to lose him. You been knew… But, dear god, how are you to do you without him? How are you to subsist without measuring the cosmos in his hands every night before going to bed? And how are you to wake up without his warmth next to you every morning? Or rather that was the idea of you two(?) ​A dream you’ve constructed…

You seem pretty sincere in your uncertainty about what lies ahead for the two of you in the long run. What’s worse, you’re aggressive with it, agressive in your once again glossy eyes and directing them at him to harm him emotionally, physically... psychologically. Then again Jaehyun is repressing his anger internally and handling it as usual. Will deal with it later. He’s so polite with it. Elegant. Or as much as the circumstances permit.

Lightning strikes lightning again, and your entire body starts to tremble as if you’re under a high tide that the ocean has saved for this exact moment. This power he has over you... you call it love. One day, you’ll blink and he’ll be back. And you’ll be sure to wait for that day just like a moon in the sky that waits for nightfall. Is that foolish? It doesn’t concern you because nothing’s fair in love and war anyway. You loved him then, you love him now and you’ll love him forever. But the fact you have to store such lightning in a jar right now is a load of crap.

You dig your finger into his cheeks and lift his jaw in force, causing a slight twitch in your wrist that soon becomes a boiling fit of lust. With a tight jaw and a raised voice, you ask, “What next!!?”

A receipt, please!?

-Double entendres. 

-Double entendres. 

-Double entendres. 

A fleet of insinuations.

What’s next for you two? Where are you headed? But truthfully… For rea—

Smiling lazily in your palm, Jaehyun rolls his lower lip in confidence, and then, all of a sudden, you’re holding bread with scrumptious, detailed dips on both sides.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment in advance of what he’s going to say, his eyes remain fixed on you as he hooks his fingers into the black hair tie that’s been lonesomely hanging around your wrist all this time. Your hand is then gradually forced away from his face so he can take it as he yanks sensually and slowly at it. Dark, luscious flirtation loads every agonizing drag. There’s a crazy calm in his eyes.

‘What’s next?’

The timbre in his voice is enough to smoke you. 

Smirking, “Anything I want.”

A silencer that makes a whisper of the gunshot. A gun which no hunter has it at all… Yeah, there’s not a gun whose sound sounds kind, but there is—

his voice, he

Your face goes momentarily expressionless, and your nostrils flare at the comment. Not only do you not believe what you’re hearing, but you find him puzzling to the point of offense. You give a mild shake, press your lips to your nose in annoyance, and reach over the left side of the couch to retrieve the ‘Hysteric’ cap he tossed earlier, intending to really smack it of his face. 

But when you do swing it, blurting, “Sometimes, I hate both of us,” Jaehyun lets out an adorable laugh and clutching your wrist in time. 

Warming your cheeks, the sun shines straight in your face. His laugh is everything good in this world. In his puffy-eyed smile, comfort springs eternally, much like light. This man alone starts spring. 

He teasingly remarks, “Sometimes…” meaning… not alw— 

His hands reach over your shoulders and he pulls you in again, gathering your hair at the back for ‘no other’ reason than to use that hair tie... 

In the newly created intimacy, his eyes dart over every feature of your face as if he’s soaking it all in like the last golden hours of summer, and in gratitude, his smile gently strokes over each of these details with attractive happiness. He’s a generous artist, and you know this too… Is just—

Quickly, your noses start to collide with every failed attempt he makes to deal with the hair because the more he tries, the more he—

Lip-cuts over cheeks and incessant whines of ‘I can do it. No, you— I can!’s muffled behind ears like long-kept secrets.

“Just give up,” you smile.

“Nuh-uh…” he fights as he tries and tries, “I can’t,” and sporting a damped smile in the bends of your neck. 

To get you where he wants you, every one of his failed ‘hair tie’ attempts is the most phony innocence ever imagined. His lips leave a trail of light, giggly kisses along the ridge of your shoulder, compelling your own hands to work their way up his shoulders, into his nape, and then into his hair. 

Eventually, his hands become less firm and give up, causing his fingers to thread down your hair, yet he still assures you, “Mmmmh… I can do it... 

… For real, though.”

It aches the way he does that! His low voice whispers… Marking you for disaster. A feral panic. The urges his voice alone has conjured up in you long to break free.

Tracing his eyes connect the dots between your goosebumps, your eyes, and your brain, strips you of your body. He’s touching every nerve ending, every inch, and every brainwave. Intimacy is a weird state to be in—too much of it and it ruthlessly takes out everything but the moment. 

The calmness that follows an anxious fury.

The holy restoration of what remains untainted.

You are connected—you and him. Now. Just now, in the history of time itself... 

And if you’re going to kiss him next, it has to unpeel. It needs to undress. It has to lay bare every feeling he fears and strip any hard shell he wears. It has to burn from muscle to bone. A tongue that maps out any doubt, lets it stick to it, and then crushes it under its weight. Exhaust every bad memory. Even so powerful to kill every terrible remembrance. His defenses have to go. They could crawl beneath the sofa and hide there like defeated demons.

Sure, art is hiding behind one pretense or another, but surely it can’t be for all times? 

Hidden feelings, like hidden things, can’t stay hidden, for finding them is where all the whole beauty lies.

You know Jaehyun loves watching you watch him. But sometimes, that’s really difficult. 

You’re at your last grasp for air but still manage to do that; reaching through your hair to his still-tangled hand, you bring it to your lips and gently plant a long kiss on the veiny outer palm.

The unusualness of it; your eyes on his; your mouth there lingering...

Although Jaehyun’s expression suggests it’s something he didn’t expect, it’d be mild to say he’s shocked. When he doesn’t smile for the first time, you want to smile because you find the confusion in his running, empathetic eyes adorable. 

It came with no warning. He had no idea it’d tingle and rush to his center as it does.

Feeling with your other hand on his chest, the ‘silent word of truth’ races his heartbeat.

-

Let’s stop the complications. Let’s do that...

No more wrong, no more selfish, no more too stubborn to keep it a secret…

Let’s

You’re left stroking the space between his thumb and index finger, and in your eyes, this far into the night, your love is the only act of violence. The way he actually robs you of yourself should be studied. Your ‘whole purpose of earlier’ seems to be being yanked out of you and placed neatly in the ‘For later’ compartment.

Jaehyun’s looking at you, aroused in the right place, your head—The smoke’s not cleared, and guess what—he loves to go there,

-

… But perhaps you have your own sneaky way of doing the same…

-

After the hand kiss, his eyes are narrow... wary, like when he can’t read something from a distance. As if he’s in a slump. Spacing out… Comprehending… Perhaps he’s too late to realize...

To help him ‘see’ better, you brush the strands out of his way. Along with the way you subtly rip the corner of your lip, it makes it sound a little shady when you softly ask, “What is it?”

He smiles shyly as he says, “Coome oon,” dragging the word a little and even breaking eye contact, looking downward.

Huh, what is it? Is his shirt print suddenly so interesting!??

Just like he won’t sometimes, you won’t elaborate now either. Not saying anything, the time has come when you get to raise an eyebrow. Getting back his attention, you run a finger down his shirt, feeling the fabric give away to some hard, toned abs. They serve him nothing now...

He’s visibly altered, something you can clearly fucking see.

‘What is it?’ —

The question hangs over him, forcing a deep, deep breath out of him. He then takes hold of your face. His fingertips tap firmly, like an anchor to the sea, landing the skin behind your ear. You can’t be moved by anything other than him. Just-

him.

Flowers sprout from his palm immediately. Their vines snake their way up your legs. And those sweet notes in his voice!?

Nothing quite compares...

“I know you know...”

“Know what… Yun-o?”

-

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