#so i made the decision to start stepping it back down

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

Jailbirds - M. Luffy

Fem!Reader

The sunlight burned into your eyes, the screams and yells of your fellow prisoners rushing into your ears. Painful and exhausted tears forced your eyes to push open, squinting in the sunlight. You dragged your hands up to your patterned kimono and wiped them onto the fabric before bringing your hands up and rubbing your eyes, the iron shackles heavy on your lap and looping around your wrist.

“This is the boy who defied Kaido!”

“The one who attacked him?”

“I thought he'd be a bit larger!”

“I thought he'd be similar to Queen!”

You yawned, standing up and walking to the front of your cell-- cage, more like. You narrowed your eyes to find the boy that seemed to be the center of attention; it was rare for things to be lively here in Udon. Messy black hair and a bloodied and patched red kimono; but even more than that, his face was wrapped in blood stained bandages. His gray eyes glared up at everyone, the chain of the sea prism stone shackles slathered across the floor and connecting to the handcuffs wrapped around his wrist.

After a few more long, dragged steps, he was thrown into the jail cell next to you. “Looks like you've got company now, Missy.” One of the guards snarled, spitting onto your face as he spoke. For once, you were glad that the cell separated you from the guard. Otherwise, who knows what he’d be desperate enough to do to you?

“Piss off.” You snapped, walking to the back wall of your cell. “I’m not supposed to do work today.” The prison guard rolled his eyes, grubby hands gripping the beams of the cell.

“You’re lucky you’re a woman and Queen finds you attractive. Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be here.” He growled, before stalking off. You raised your middle finger from behind the bars once he was out of sight. You knew that two cells away from you were an angry and barbaric red haired man who was missing an arm. You silently wondered if he would get along with this newcomer.

You slid down the cold, wet wall, looking up at the mucky ceiling. You were here for no good reason; stealing food to help feed a starving little girl who you had found on the streets even though you had no money yourself definitely wasn't the best decision you've made in your life. You wondered what the newcomer was here for; you knew that he had defied Kaido in some way, but how so? And why?

The next day, you're released, expected to carry blocks of stone to the port…as usual. The newly captured prisoner was only supposed to start working a few hours later, but in the cell, he looked like he was starving. You had carried 30 blocks of stone so far, exchanging it for only 6 millet dumplings. But you sighed, pushing the bowl of dumplings into the narrow holes of his cell. “You're probably hungry, you've just been newly captured after all. Take off your bandages and eat.”

He stared at the bowl in front of him as if it were a gift given from his savior, and tearing off the partially red bandages on his face, he shoved the millet dumplings into his mouth. “Hank yew!” He exclaimed, his cheeks round with millet dumplings. You shook your hand around, shaking your head. Stay quiet, you wanted to say. You would both get in trouble if the prison guards had caught you.

A few hours later, he was released from his cell to do more prison work, and within just a few minutes--and with his sea prism stone cuffs--he had already carried hundreds of blocks. Well shit. So if he could have gotten bowls and bowls and hundreds and hundreds of dumplings so easily, then what was the point of your pity and generosity for him?

“Hey! Thank you for earlier!” He came over to you, smiling, a long stone over his shoulder. You narrowed your eyes, gripping the large stone over your shoulder as you continued to drag your feet to the port.

“You're awfully happy for someone who just got captured. But you're welcome…what's your name?” You asked, his delight almost making you want to grin along with him. These were the most dangerous kind of people: the one whose emotions were contagious.

“I'm Monkey D Luffy! And I'm gonna be the King of the--” He began, as if he were speaking on instinct. He came to his senses, and quickly changed his mind. “I'm Luffytaro!”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You're a foreigner, aren't you? A pirate? And I'm guessing your real name is Luffy.” It wasn't really a guess, considering how he says so himself.

“Yep!”

“You're quite honest, aren't you? Well, I don't personally think that's a bad thing, but be careful about being so honest around here.” You muttered. “My name's (Y/n). Wano resident here; been here since birth. Welcome to Wano, and I hope you enjoy your time here…well, aside from being in jail and stuff. Udon is shit. How old are you? Just curious. I'm not creepy, I promise.”

“I'm 19.” Luffy said, beaming. Why was he smiling for no reason? How strange.

“You're older than me? Wow. I'm eighteen. Well, anyways, nice meeting you, Luffy.” You limped away, slipping another rock onto the port.

------

The sight in front of you was unbelievable.

Luffy, who has now been revealed as a pirate, leading all of the inmates out to freedom. You stiffened, unmoving and simply staring at him as he grinned and led. Finally, as all of the inmates were escaping, he turned to you. “Aren't you going to escape?”

Yes, yes, you wanted to. But your feet stayed planted on the ground; why weren't you moving? Haven't you always dreamed of this? Always dreamed of finally being free from this hell? Finally, your lips parted as you began to speak. “I'm from Okobore Town. Being let out of here…would it really be any different from being out there? What freedom would I be given? I'm still restricted from speaking my truth, still restricted from eating good food, still restricted to telling the truth about this country…”

Luffy looked up before putting a hand on his chin, thinking, before he looked down at you once more. “I'll defeat Kaido and I'll make this a place where you can say whatever you want to, eat as much as you want to, and you won't have to worry a thing!” He grinned at you, and he almost looked like the sun. So much that you could feel the corner of your lips quirking up, and when he looked into your eyes, it was almost as if the world had become more colorful.

He took your hand, and you both ran out of Udon, your first few steps towards freedom.

------

Following closely behind Kin’emon, Momonosuke, and Yamato, you huffed as you ran, your eyes finally meeting the port where the Heart Pirate, Kid Pirates, and Straw Hat pirates had their ships. Momonosuke instantly leaped onto Luffy, angry at first, but eventuall beginning to cry. You stood next to Yamato, your eyes lingering on Luffy as he said his farewells. You were a little surprised that Yamato wasn't going to join the Straw Hats, but perhaps he had other ideas.

Finally, Luffy reached you, and he handed you something.

His bounty poster.

“Hang it up on your wall, yeah? That way no one will want to hurt you!” Luffy said, beaming. Heat crawled up your neck and all the way to your eyes as you took the poster, lips trembling into a smile.

“I will. And visit anytime, okay? I'd love to have you here at Wano again.” You replied, tears stinging your eyes.

“Of course! Once I become the King of the Pirates, I'll visit you and we'll eat lots of meat!”

And finally, he hopped aboard the ship, the Sunny departing the Land of Wano. But as Luffy looked out on the open sea, he saw only your smile and the plethora of adventures and new islands awaiting him.

“I see you soon, (Y/n).”

@bubblyluffy

[cameronsbabydoll]

SUGAR-COATED CHAINS — CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

WARNINGS — honestly this chapter is sorta messy and angsty. we introduce her family in this so yup! rafe and ward are icky and low key sexist. it’s sorta sad honestly

The decision isn’t sudden. Not really.

Rafe has always known you belong to him. That was never up for debate. But lately, something in him has shifted. It’s in the way you settle against him at night, how your hesitation fades a little more each time he reminds you that you’re his. It’s in the way your eyes flicker with uncertainty whenever you think about a life outside of the one he’s carved out for you.

That’s how he knows it’s time.

Marriage isn’t a question. It never has been. You were always going to be his wife—Rafe just needed to decide when.

And now, it feels inevitable.

There’s no hesitation when Rafe steps into his father’s office. He’s already made his choice, and Ward—he’ll understand.

Ward barely looks up from his paperwork, but something in the way Rafe moves—the quiet confidence, the deliberate drag of his fingers along the desk—makes him glance up.

"I’m proposing," Rafe says simply, dropping into the chair across from his father.

Ward exhales, leaning back slightly. "So, you finally decided."

No congratulations. No unnecessary sentimentality. Just a statement of fact.

Rafe smirks. "Wasn’t much of a decision. She’s already mine. The ring just makes it official."

Ward swirls the whiskey in his glass, watching the amber liquid shift before lifting it to his lips. "She’ll be a good wife. Sweet. Malleable."

That word again. Malleable.

Rafe lets it settle in his chest, a slow burn of satisfaction.

"She’s already playing the part," Ward continues. "I saw the way she looked at you at dinner last week. She’s starting to understand."

Rafe nods, pleased. That’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

Ward eyes him over his glass. "Have you told her yet?"

Rafe’s lips twitch. "No need."

His father smirks, shaking his head. "Just like your old man."

—

Rafe doesn’t go alone to buy the ring.

He could have. But this is a power move—staking his claim—and he wants witnesses.

So he brings two of his business partners with him, older men, men who already have wives tucked away in mansions, women who know better than to challenge them.

The high-end jewelry store is quiet when they step inside, the kind of place where you don’t browse—you buy.

A jeweler greets them with a polished smile, hands neatly folded. "Looking for something in particular, gentlemen?"

Rafe doesn’t hesitate. He gestures toward the glass case filled with massive diamonds, pristine cuts, stones meant for women who exist only to be admired.

"Biggest one you have," he says smoothly, adjusting his watch.

The jeweler chuckles, his gaze flicking between the three men. "Shopping for a proposal?"

Rafe smirks. "More like a reminder."

The man lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t ask questions. Instead, he unlocks the case and pulls out a ring—obnoxiously expensive, a diamond that catches the light in a way that demands attention.

Rafe picks it up, rolling it between his fingers. It’s perfect.

His business partner chuckles beside him, sipping the espresso a store attendant handed him the moment they walked in. "Never thought I’d see Rafe Cameron settle down."

Rafe just exhales through his nose, handing over his black card without a second thought. "Not settling," he corrects. "Just making sure she knows what she is."

The other man hums, amused. "And what’s that?"

Rafe pockets the ring box and smirks. "Mine."

After securing the ring, they head to an exclusive bar, tucked away in one of the nicest parts of town. The kind of place where the drinks don’t have prices on the menu and the waitresses wear diamonds bigger than their salaries.

They settle into a booth, the conversation easy, familiar.

Jason, who’s been married for over a decade, raises his glass. "So, when’s the big moment?"

Rafe shrugs, swirling the bourbon in his own glass. "Soon."

Patrick smirks. "She know yet?"

Rafe chuckles. "She doesn’t need to."

Jason whistles, shaking his head. "Damn. And here I thought you’d at least ask."

"Not a question," Rafe says simply, taking a sip. "She already knows she belongs to me. This just makes it official."

Patrick laughs, knocking back his drink. "Shit. Poor girl doesn’t stand a chance."

Rafe just smirks.

Because no, you don’t.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

—

The morning starts with a message from Rafe.

Rafe: Be ready by 10. They’ll pick you up.

Your stomach twists when you open the attached itinerary.

A dress fitting. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. A blowout.

Rafe spoils you often, but this… this feels different. This feels meticulous.

Your best friend is already waiting when you step outside, practically bouncing on her heels. "Okay, seriously—what’s the occasion?"

You force a small smile. "I don’t know. Rafe just planned it."

She frowns slightly. "He didn’t tell you why?"

You shake your head.

Her expression falters, but she doesn’t push.

And maybe that’s why you love her—because even when she notices the things you refuse to, she doesn’t push.

By the time you get home, you feel like a doll—your hair in soft waves, your nails polished to perfection, your skin practically glowing.

Rafe is waiting when you walk in, leaning against the kitchen counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

His eyes sweep over you, slow and possessive.

"Perfect," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

Your stomach twists.

Then he pulls something from his pocket—a small velvet box.

Your breath catches.

He flips it open, revealing the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen. It’s blinding. Overwhelming.

"Rafe—"

"You’re gonna marry me, angel," he says smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You stare at him, lips parting. "I—"

His smirk deepens. "That wasn’t a question."

He takes your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger before you can even process it. The weight of it feels final.

"You’re mine," he murmurs, bringing your hand to his lips. "Now and always."

Your heart pounds.

Because deep down, you know—

This was never a choice.

—

You don’t know how long you stand there after he kisses your hand, staring at the ring like it’s something foreign, before you excuse yourself from Rafe by saying you’re going to take a bath.

The ring feels foreign on your finger, too tight even though it fits perfectly.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself.

This is supposed to be a dream come true.

Then why does it feel like something’s slipping through your fingers?

Your phone sits on the counter, the screen lighting up with familiar notifications—family group chat messages you haven’t opened in weeks, a missed call from your mom you never returned.

You hesitate.

Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you press call.

It rings twice before she picks up.

"Sweetheart!" Your mother’s voice is bright, too bright—like she’s already moved on from whatever reason she called before. "I was just thinking about you! It's been forever. Are you eating enough? Getting sleep?"

You squeeze your eyes shut. "I—yeah, Mom, I’m fine."

"Good girl." The words are automatic, like she’s talking to a child. "You know I worry when you don’t check in."

You grip the counter. "I just…" You hesitate. "Rafe proposed."

Silence.

For a second, you think the call dropped.

"Oh, honey, that’s wonderful!" she gushes. "I knew he would! He’s such a sweet boy, taking such good care of you."

Your stomach twists. "I—I don’t know if I’m ready for this."

She laughs softly, like you just told her you’re scared of the dark. "Oh, baby, don’t be silly. It’s just nerves! Every girl gets nervous before a big change."

"No, I mean—" You shake your head, frustration bubbling up. "Mom, I don’t even know if this is what I want—"

"Shh, sweetheart, don’t overthink it. You always get like this."

Like this.

Like you’re being dramatic. Like you’re just scared and not thinking clearly.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

"Mom, I just…" Your voice wavers. "I don’t know if I can do this."

"You can, baby. You just need to stop worrying so much."

You open your mouth, but she’s already moving on.

"Oh! You know who you should talk to? Your brother. He always knows what to say."

Your blood runs cold.

"Mom, no—"

"I’ll tell him to call you. He’s so good at giving advice—he's always been the level-headed one, you know that."

You know what that really means.

Your brother, the golden child. The one who always did the right thing, who never needed to be reminded how to behave, who never worried about his decisions.

Unlike you.

"Mom, please," you whisper. "I don’t need him to—"

"Oh! Even better—we’ll come visit! We can celebrate together."

The floor feels unsteady beneath you. "Mom—"

"I’ll call your father, we’ll set a date, maybe next weekend? Oh, we’ll bring champagne!"

"I don’t—"

"You should be excited, sweetheart," she interrupts, her tone patient, correcting. "This is the happiest time of your life."

The words land like a stone in your stomach.

"We’ll see you soon, baby."

The line goes dead.

And you stare at your phone.

You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that your feelings wouldn’t matter, that your uncertainty would be brushed aside like it was nothing.

Like you were nothing but a silly little girl who would fall in line eventually.

Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them.

You press your palms against the counter, sucking in a breath.

But it’s not enough.

Your shoulders shake, silent and uncontrollable.

The ring feels heavier than ever.

Before you can even wipe your tears the door creaks open.

Rafe is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you.

His gaze flicks to your phone, then to your red-rimmed eyes.

His smirk suddenly fades.

"That was your mom?"

You swallow hard, nodding.

His jaw clenches.

He already knows.

"You tell her you were happy?" His voice is low, but there’s an edge beneath it—one that makes your skin prickle.

You hesitate.

And his gaze darkens.

"You are happy, aren’t you, angel?"

His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

Your lip trembles. You want to say yes, but the lie is stuck in your throat.

His grip tightens, just a little. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind you that, he’s the only one who listens.

The only one who really sees you.

Your breath shudders out.

"I—I don’t know."

His gaze flickers.

Then, slowly, his lips curl into a smirk.

"You’re just overwhelmed, angel." His voice is soft, coaxing. "They don’t get you like I do. No one does.”

Your chest tightens.

"You trust me, don’t you?"

You don’t know how to say no.

So you just nod.

His smirk deepens.

"That’s my good girl."

[enhani-ki]

BMF part i - reader x ni-ki

warnings : smut, nsfw, dry humping, explicit languages, etc.

notes : inspired by sza's song. reader is downbad & desperate but that's the point. i had to break this down into two parts, the part two is more explicit version of this BMF. you can read it [here!]

you've been in love with ni-ki for a long time now, and recently, it finally felt like all your patience, all your hard work, was already starting to pay off.

he was actually acknowledging you, paying attention to you now.

because before, ni-ki would always reply late, always busy, barely sparing you more than a few words and there were so many times you almost gave up, so many moments where you thought,

"maybe i should just move on."

but you really, really like him.

even though you didn't really have the right to expect anything, you hoped and pretend he can still be your man no matter how many mixed signals he gave you, no matter how confusing or frustrating he was, you stuck around.

ni-ki, on the other hand, had just gotten used to you.

you're always praising him, you say you feel different when you're with him, you tell him anything.

always making him feel good about himself.

and whenever he feels lonely, it was actually nice to have someone checking in on him, asking how he was doing. and whenever he was bored? well, you were always down to accompany him anywhere, anytime.

you make him laugh. you're a little wild (which is an understatement btw) and always keeping things interesting.

so, without even realizing it, ni-ki had let you become a part of his routine.

y/n: i'm curious tho :(

ni-ki furrowed his brows, typing back.

riki-san: hm, about what? :)

y/n: how many kids do u want me to give you?

his mouth fell open. "what the-" he just stared at his screen for a moment, completely appalled. he was not one to share his texts, let alone let others peek into his phone, but this?

he just had to.

he turned his phone around to show your text with others in disbelief. "hyung, look at this," he scoffed.

heesung let out a low whistle while jungwon, on the other hand, immediately facepalmed. "oh my god…"

you sat there, waiting. kicking your legs in the air.

even if he was busy, even if he slept all day, you were always there, waiting for him to respond.

though, what ni-ki didn't know was that you actually wanted to blow up his phone just to ask what he was up to.

luckily, you didn't… whew.

you haven't seen ni-ki for so long, and when he finally came back, it felt like you were still missing him. every time he texted or replied, it was always after you had already fallen asleep. his schedule was a mess, and judging from the headaches he had been getting, it was starting to take a toll on him.

so when he asked if you wanted to spend some time at their dorm, of course, you agreed without hesitation.

the plan was just to play video games, maybe take a quick nap together, but the moment ni-ki laid down, his exhaustion won. he was knocked out almost instantly, breathing steadily and deeply as he curled up in bed.

your phone buzzed, a while later. then again. and again.

heeseung: yo, come out and eat with us?

sunghoon: why are you guys still in there?? we’re starving.

you glanced at ni-ki who's still lost in sleep, his expression seemed completely relaxed for the first time in weeks. you hesitated, but your stomach already made the decision for you.

y/n: yeah. i'm coming out, sorry.

the boys were already gathered when you stepped out. "he's still out cold?" jay asked, and you just nodded.

they all chuckled, and you let out a small laugh before eating dinner with them. their conversations were nonsense but somehow still entertaining, and even though you enjoyed yourself, you felt bad because ni-ki didn't get to eat with everyone.

and by the time he finally woke up, the dorm was already silent. it was near midnight, and everyone had already gone to bed. he stumbled out of his room, eyes barely open with his messy hair. his body moved on autopilot as he walked to the kitchen to reheat some leftovers.

he ate alone at the counter, scrolling through his phone in between bites, texting you, apologizing how he didn't get to take care of you.

he sighed, rubbing his face before clicking his phone off but just as he was about to head back to bed, he saw you sleeping in the couch.

you stayed.

he sat beside you, brushing a few strands of hair away before pulling a blanket over you.

he grabbed the remote, and switched on the tv, immediately lowering the volume.

the soft glow illuminated both your faces as he clicked on a baseball replay, slouching further into the cushions.

ni-ki's jaw tensed as he watched the game unfold. "oh, what the fuck?" he muttered under his breath when a player completely fumbled an easy play.

you moved slightly, shifting in your sleep.

he glanced at you, immediately biting back any of his further commentary but every now and then, he couldn't help it—sharp exhales, quiet cursing, groaning in frustration whenever something stupid happened.

you started waking up, not fully, but enough to recognize the occasional, "eh?" and "tsk, are you serious?" from beside you.

you never thought you'd be a little rude to him, but you had just woken up too, and your entire body ached from uncomfortably lying on the sofa. so with a frown, you mumbled, "is that live or a replay?" totally annoyed.

ni-ki stiffened, suddenly feeling bad for being so loud. "replay. why?" he answered, looking away from the screen.

"then watch it tomorrow…"

his grip on the remote tightened slightly. "i- i just have… 40 minutes left."

"you could watch it tomorrow though," you repeated.

he shook his head, his lips forming a small pout. "no way."

you, however, were also not having it. "riki…"

no response, he's barely even looked at you, leaning to the side to keep watching the game.

you tried to stand up but the second you moved, dizziness hit you. you vision went blank for a second, your body were still sore and stiff that before you knew it, you lost your balance.

you stumbled, ass landing right onto ni-ki's lap.

his hands instinctively shot out, gripping your waist to steady you.

and holy shit, you felt it.

you already knew it was big—you'd seen the print in his gray sweats plenty of times but now you were actually sitting on his lap, fuuuck, you could feel the size pressing up against you...

ni-ki was definitely packing.

he sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers twitching against your waist. "don't move."

you weren't moving. you couldn't, and you wouldn't, not when you could already feel inches of him beneath you. heavy and starting to throb against your ass.

then, as if you lost all your shame, you rolled your hips just slightly. making ni-ki hiss your name out, "y/n..."

your core clenched at the sound of his voice.

his hands flew to your shoulders, his fingers digging into your skin as his head fell back against the couch.

a soft moan escaped your lips as you rocked your hips again, grinding against him, rubbing your ass against his clothed length.

"oh, that feels good, y/n..." he groaned. his voice deep and strained.

the way he said your name sent more heat straight between your legs.

you stood up just to sit in his lap but it's to grind while facing him this time. your clothed cunt was pressing right against his length. a sharp gasp left your mouth at the direct friction and fuck yes, it really feels so good.

ni-ki's dick grew harder and longer under your ass, his hands were gripping your waist to steady not only you, but also himself.

oh, and he bet you were already so wet down there too.

you stared into each other's eyes, chests were rising and falling, both just breathing together.

he was looking up at you, then he gently grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips onto yours to kiss you sloppily.

your first kiss with him.

messy, heated... he's pushing his tongue into your mouth desperately.

you whimpered, grinding harder against his cock, rolling your hips like your life depended on it.

ni-ki groaned into your mouth, his looking up at you, watching the faces you make while riding him on top. his hands were squeezing on your tits, then trailed down to grip your ass, pushing your body more down onto him.

your pleasure was building fast, burning hot in the pit of your stomach all because the friction was perfect—the fabric of your thin shorts rubbing against your soaked panties, his thick length pressing right into your clit, right where you needed it.

your movements turned frantic, your head was swinging in all direction while chasing your high that is already within reach. "oh, shit- ah-"

click. the light's turned on

"fuck-" you panicked, shoving him away, and he pushed you back.

you quickly hid. ni-ki sat up straight, grabbing a pillow and shoving it into his lap, covering the very obvious problem straining against his sweats.

both of you sat there, frozen.

"what are you two doing?" sunoo asked, standing there, still groggy, his lips forming a small pout. "i swear i heard..."

ni-ki rolled his eyes, cutting him off. "you're weird for even thinking about it, hyung…" he said, trying to gaslight his sunoo hyung.

sunoo squinted at him suspiciously.

"yeah, yeah, that's crazy…"

but shit- you can't stop cumming right under that blanket.

sunoo crossed his arms. "i'll tell the others tomorrow. you're so dead, y/n. especially you, ni-ki." he threatened and walked away, leaving the two of you even more frozen in place.

you sighed, cupping your blushing face and without another word, you got up and made your way to the kitchen, needing a drink of water... and probably a moment to process what just happened.

you can't blame sunoo, because even yourself, you can't believe you just did something like that either.

you can't believe you dry humped ni-ki, using him like that just so you can cum.

the realization was awful, heat started rushing to your cheeks even more as you gripped the glass in your hands.

it's too embarrassing to even think about going back. what would you even say to him? how would you face him?

but then a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind. ni-ki's warm lips pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"hentai."

you squeezed your eyes shut in pure embarrassment. "i'm so sorry…"

but it's okay, ni-ki always knew just how down bad you are for him.

you decided to go home after. ni-ki sat on the couch again after, running a hand through his hair, feeling his body still burning from everything that just happened.

he glanced down at his lap, his cock is still a bit hard but it was also painful because you already left, leaving him with the first worst case of blue balls in his life.

his mind flashed back to the way you were riding him... wishing you can come back and take responsibility for this.

everyone gathered in the living room the next morning, forming a very obvious intervention circle with ni-ki. he sat in the middle, arms crossed, his legs were spread out, looking all nonchalant.

sunoo had already spilled everything, being the absolute snitch. now ni-ki was being forced to sit through the most painful conversation of his life.

"ni-ki, as the youngest, you need to be responsible..."

"we know you have needs, but please be discreet..."

he sighed, nodding along, pretending to listen but their words were just coming in one ear and going straight out the other.

he wasn't trying to be disrespectful, but did they really think he wanted to be here, listening to a sex talk from his own members?

"and always remember, protection is key..."

"you don't wanna end up on some news-"

ni-ki nearly choked. "hyung, what?!"

jake shrugged. "there's also those shows where young couples get unexpected babies..."

jay nodded, completely serious.

sunghoon sighed dramatically. "imagine the headlines, man-"

jay smacked sunghoon on the arm, stopping him from making the talk serious. "bro-"

he doesn't wanna hear it, he loves them but hell no... they don't know any better? so as soon as he escaped to his room, he grabbed his phone to text you.

riki-san: they already talked to me :)

you stared at the message. a smiley face? okay… so it must've gone well. it's probably not that serious, right?

y/n: great…

riki-san: just great?

you groaned, scratching your head in stress and embarassment. "what does he want me to say?!"

then another message popped up before you could even think of a reply:

riki-san: can i come over to get the record?

more notes : back from the dead.

check : part two of BMF ; マスターリストm.list

taglist: @dolliewon @ziiao @17ericas

[ghouljams]

hey ghoul, this isn’t really anything sex / writing related but i’d still really appreciate some feedback because i’m kind of at a loss here.

the other night i got, like, super high off a 25mg edible while hanging out with some friends who were drinking. there were two sober people in the group. being high off my mind, i was somewhat conscious of what i was doing but was in no position to correct myself besides asking the people around me if what i was doing was okay / if i was making them uncomfortable.

there was one person there who i don’t know all that well and it was the first time i’d hung out with them. i was super high, and they were incredibly drunk. i know i was laying over them a lot since my body felt incredibly heavy and id get really close to their face, but in my delirium i thought we were on the same wavelength with the energy they were giving back to me.

however, when i apologized the following day for how i acted, they told me i made them very uncomfortable that night, and i felt horrible and apologized profusely, to which they said they appreciated my acknowledgment of my actions. after talking to one of the sober people there, they told me “you were kinda all over them :/“ but i cannot stress enough that i COULD NOT control how my body felt. im not in anyway excusing or downplaying my actions, i know how i acted was wrong even though i was intoxicated. and also, that same friend sat down next to me that night and told me i needed to “tone it down by like 30%” because i was kind of all over people, and i started crying and telling them that i can’t help it and that it was mean of them to say that to me when im so high.

again, i’m not excusing my actions, but i guess what im wondering, is at what point do the sober people become “responsible” of the actions of such an intoxicated person? at what point do they need to step in and put space between that person and everyone else, if their actions are truly making people uncomfortable?

i’m so sorry this is so much, and you don’t need to respond, but i need to make sure im not like crazy or anything.

As someone who has babysat a lot of super high people (on various substances) but has not done much in the way of drugs I would say that if someone looks like they're TOO INTOXICATED then the responsible thing is to make sure that person is safe. I cannot tell you the anxiety I had reading your ask and hoping you weren't going to say someone touched you or assaulted you in some way.

This is just my opinion as a former trip sitter (which isn't the same as hanging with a greened out friend) but uh your sober friends should have gotten you to a horizontal surface if they noticed you were having trouble keeping yourself vertical. Also really questionable to tell someone clearly far past their intox limit that they need to "tone it down." That's just unkind.

I am not trying to say that intoxicated people are completely absolved of their actions or can't control themselves, but if you are sober and see an intoxicated friend making bad decisions or making someone uncomfortable, then it's your responsibility as their friend to get them out of that situation. The same way you would keep your drunk friend from going home with a guy she just met, your friends should have done a better job taking care of someone who was too impaired to function.

The only thing you can do is what you have already done: apologize to the people you made uncomfortable and let them know that you'll try and make sure it doesn't happen again.

Look I've had plenty of rollers laying on me or petting my head, or rubbing their cheek on my pant leg, it's a thing that happens when people get high. I'm not someone who likes being touched, but I also am someone who understands that they weren't meaning to do anything that made me uncomfortable, they were just super fucking high and trying to find something to ground themselves.

[ktownshizzle]

Nerd & Nerdier | Chapter 6

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader, Jeon Wonwoo x reader; endgame? x reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Attempt At Comedy, Roommates au, Love triangle

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. Not when it’s Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo, who decide they both want you. Unhinged, awkward, and nerdy as hell, they proceed to compete for your attention in the most unnecessarily dramatic fashion that culminates into a… rap battle.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Wildly gratuitous, 100% chance you’ll fall in love with both of them so that’s a problem, no mxm dynamics to be expected

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter Warnings: Kissing, angst, hearts will be broken - sorry :(, wonwoo’s request is kinda fucked up and MC should NOT have done it tbh but alas this is a fanfic, we’re coming close to the end :(

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.9k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: March 22, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: OmG writing this made me kinda sad, but angst-lovers, do enjoy this mild slice of UGH! Thanks, Cathy Jae and Aqua for your feedback <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Of all days for Wonwoo to emerge shirtless from the bathroom, it had to be today. Today when you had told yourself that a decision had to be made. It wasn’t like you to drag things out. Not when, in your heart of hearts, you already knew the answer.

��Wonwoo,” you start, your eyes failing to stop itself from trailing that bead of water from his jaw down to his pecs. You clear your throat. “Do you have time to talk later?”

“Umm.” Wonwoo doesn’t meet your glance, rubbing a towel against his damp hair. You don’t miss the way his shoulders stiffen ever so slightly like he already got a sense where you were going with this ‘talk’. 

“Yeah, sure.” If that ain't the most non-committal sure you’ve ever heard.

“We can get coffee later? In that place you really like…” you suggest.

“Mhm. Later…”

Except later never comes and it’s been three days of Wonwoo actively avoiding you.

He’s been holed up in his room for longer than usual. He suddenly has a thousand things to do. Streaming late into the night, conveniently stepping out whenever you’re in the living room, suddenly having plans whenever you suggest one. It’s actually becoming annoying.

This afternoon, you promise yourself to rip the band-aid off and corner him as soon as you can.

Yoongi comes home in three days from his writing bootcamp, and there’s nothing else you want to do than surprise him with good news. But you need to talk to Wonwoo first.

The moment Wonwoo’s door creaks open, you don’t hesitate. You stand from the couch, determined, walking straight toward him.

“Jeon Wonwoo.” You had to whip the government name out.

His eyes go wide—like a deer caught in headlights. “Noona!” His voice pitches slightly, and you can see the exact second he considers turning back into his room.

You grab his wrist. “Stop avoiding me, please,” you pout slightly, letting him go to place your arms across your chest. “I’m this close to attempting to chat with you during your stream, but I don’t want to be flamed by your fangirls.”

Wonwoo exhales sharply, like he knew this was inevitable. He walks back inside his room, tilting his head for you to follow.

You don’t come into Wonwoo’s space a whole lot, but what you always liked are the shelves he put up with his toy collection. It told a lot about his playful personality, even though on the outside he seems a little reserved. A pair of headphones is resting on his desk beside his monitor, screensaver flickering dimly in the dark. A hoodie—one you’ve seen him wear a hundred times—draped over the back of his chair, sleeves twisted like he’d taken it off in a hurry. His bed is unkept, like he just rolled out of it before you pounced on him.

“So…” he starts, patting the cushion beside him, a gesture for you to sit.

You do. But now that you finally have his attention, your throat dries up. Where do you even start?

Wonwoo sighs, leaning on his palms behind him. “I feel like I know where this is going, noona.”

You swallow audibly, eyes glued to the swirly screensaver on his monitor as you try to recall what you meant to say. The words are there, waiting, but they feel impossibly heavy.

Still, you inhale sharply and press on.

“I really care about you, Wonwoo. I really do. You’re so kind, so thoughtful—” You hesitate, throat tightening, but you know you have to finish. "But I—"

“No.”

Huh?

He stands up suddenly, jaw clenched, and then he points at you with a slight huff. “You owe me, noona.” The shift in his tone makes your stomach turn. He’s not angry. Not accusing. But there’s something raw in his voice—something desperate, something pleading.

He meets your gaze, unflinching.

"You promised you’d owe me for that book we got."

“What?” You blink. Then it hits you. The bookstore non-date. The way he ambushed you by paying for your novel before you even reached for your wallet.

But why is he bringing this up now?

“I’m cashing in on the favor,” he says, voice softer. “Just one more date. Let me try again.”

You’re unable to speak. This was not how you imagined this to go. He kneels in front of you, gripping your arms gently, firmly. “Please?”

Your heart squeezes.

Because you should say no. You should be firm, clear, honest. One more date won’t change anything. You know it.

And yet, the way his eyes flicker with the tiniest bit of hope makes something inside you crack.

Your mouth betrays you. “…Okay.”

The next day, Wonwoo takes you somewhere quiet—somewhere with no distractions, no Yoongi, no impending decisions waiting to be made.

It’s a hilltop just outside the city, the kind of place you wouldn’t have known existed if not for Wonwoo. Above you, the sky stretches wide, an expanse of dark velvet dotted with stars that feel just a little closer than usual.

He lays out a blanket, sits beside you, and pulls out a tiny telescope he borrowed just for the night. You watch as he carefully adjusts the lens, angling it toward the sky. He gestures for you to take a look, murmuring something about a nebula just faintly visible this time of year.

But your mind is elsewhere. To Yoongi’s picnic date.

You try to focus on the constellations, they’re gorgeous, but you can’t ignore the way Wonwoo keeps looking at you instead.

You try to enjoy the drinks and sandwiches you bought from the Compose you stopped by along the way, but the sandwich is a bit stale and the iced coffee’s gone watery.

You try. Really, you do.

His lips part, hesitating—like there’s something he desperately wants to say but keeps swallowing back down. 

And then, finally, he lets out a resigned breath. "Is there really no chance for me?"

His voice is softer than usual, but the weight of his words feels heavier than anything he’s ever said to you before.

You turn your head, and he’s already watching you. You open your mouth, but the words stick in your throat. Because no matter how you say it, the answer is the same.

"I’m so sorry."

He exhales sharply. A quiet, humorless laugh escapes him as he tilts his head back toward the sky.

"I knew," he murmurs, nodding to himself like he’s confirming what he had already suspected. "I think I always knew."

You don’t say anything. What could you possibly say?

But when he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, you don’t stop him.

His grip is firm, but there’s a slight tremor there, like he’s holding on as tightly as he can before he has to let go.

So you let him. Just for tonight.

Your drive back to the apartment is quiet. Not uncomfortable, not awkward—just a silence heavy with the knowledge that this is the end. When you reach your apartment’s parking lot, the night air is cool, crisp against your skin, but it’s not the reason you feel like you can’t quite catch your breath.

Wonwoo’s fingers get tangled with yours again and even though you both know this shouldn’t be, neither of you moves to break the contact.

The apartment is dark when you step inside, lit only by the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the window. You don’t know why neither of you turned on the lights. 

You both hesitate, standing in the living room like neither of you knows what to do now. Like this is where the change happens. Like the moment you do turn on the lights, a new era begins.

Wonwoo exhales, shifting slightly, rubbing the back of his neck before finally turning to you. His eyes flicker over your face, and for a moment, he just looks. Like he’s trying to memorize every last detail before it’s too late.

"Noona."

His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to send something trembling through your chest.

He swallows hard, hesitating—then his lips part again, voice lower this time. 

"Pretend I’m him."

You almost flat-line.

"Can you?" His voice wavers slightly, and there’s something desperate in the way he says it. "Just this once. Please?”

You stiffen. "Wonwoo—I can’t. We shouldn’t…"

"I just… I just want to know what it’d feel like if you loved me, too."

His hands curl into fists at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you. But the way he looks at you—it’s almost unbearable.

Because just like yesterday you should have said no. You should stop this before it gets worse, and you hurt him more than you already have.

But wouldn’t it be a mercy if you did as he asked?

For the last time?

So you do.

You pretend.

You step closer, lifting your hand to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently against the smooth plane of his jaw. His lashes flutter at the touch, and his breath hitches—like this alone is enough to unravel him.

You whisper the words meant for someone else.

"You make me feel safe."

Wonwoo’s throat bobs. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your arms.

"You make me feel alive."

His breathing is shaky now, eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes, searching.

"I knew from the start… it was you."

A harsh, uneven exhale leaves him. His hands tremble.

And then, before you can take it back, before you can stop it, Wonwoo kisses you. He grips your face tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll be gone before he can remember this. You want to pull away, you really do. But then you feel something warm against your cheek.

A tear. Wonwoo is crying.

And your heart breaks.

Because if this is all you can give him—one last mercy, one last lie—you let him have it.

So you kiss him back. Soft. Slow. Not real, but kind enough to feel like it. His fingers press into your skin, trembling slightly, and for the first time, you feel just how much this means to him. How much it’s going to hurt.

When you finally pull away, a draft suddenly chills your skin, seeps into your bones.

Wonwoo shivers. You frown slightly.

And then, your gaze drifts… 

To the wide open door. To the two bags. To the bundle of flowers abandoned by the hallway.

Your stomach drops.

Wonwoo follows your gaze and his entire body stiffens.

And just like that, you realize.

You weren’t alone.

Yoongi was here.

And now—he isn’t.

A/N: Dun dun dun!!! WHERE THE FUCK HAS YOONGI GONE?? And is he gonna want to surface soon? (When art imitates life ffr...)

Tell me what you thought about the chapter? Wonwoo baby I am SO SORRY but... yeah, I have no reasons....

Actual footage of Wonwoo being mad at me for this chapter:

Permanent Taglist: (the rest to follow in a reblog)

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

Divider by: @cafekitsune (thank you!)

[gretavanmoon]

Jake x female (AU)

17.4k words

"Criminal" by Fiona Apple spawned this entire idea, heavily inspired

+ Hey y'all... so I'm gonna be honest with you, I have no idea what this is, but Ms. Apple made my mind start wandering... This is not your typical fanfic story, so if you're looking for a quick fix, this probably ain't it LOL. Also, I realized that I was sick and tired of writing in the "fan fiction y/n pov", so this is written entirely in third person. Sorry, not sorry. But I think it works lol. This story contains heavy, adult themes, so proceed with caution

Thank you to @gretavangroupie & @jakeyt for reading <3

Warnings: 18+! Fluff, Crying, Cursing, Smoking, Mention of Drinking, Drug Use and Addiction, Heavy Self-Deprecation, Self-Hate, Mental Anguish, Mention of Sin, Death of a Child, Questionable Circumstances, Mention of Priests & God, Religion and Religious Practices, Living in Squalor, Mention of Police and Raids, Mention of Drowning, Heavy Feelings of Guilt & Grief, Overall Sadness, Self-Reflection, Self-Realization

Smut: Fluff, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Touching, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (F! Receiving)

† † †

‘Not you, you’re too obvious,’ she thought to herself, disapproving of the first holy and sacred building she came in contact with. ��Or you… you look like you’re full of a bunch of liars who only pretend to love their Savior…’ she said to the next. 

Snow covered the soaking wet concrete like cinnamon sprinkled on ice cream, sticking and existing alone for only a millisecond before melding into its sisters and brothers, becoming one with the stark white sheet of frozen sidewalk. The wind howled as it rushed past the outside walls of the skyscrapers, screaming a song that, this time of year, fell on deaf ears. 

She pulled her coat more tightly around her as she navigated the streets in search of the perfect one, the one that seemed like it wouldn’t spontaneously incinerate her once she stepped through its sacred doors. Hell, it’d been nearly fifteen years since she’d stepped foot in a church, anyway. 

‘Look at me, being judgmental of churches. Seems to fit the bill.’

That’s what she expected when she finally were to find one- to burn. All the sin that surrounded her presented itself on a silver platter to anyone she met. She was a dark person, full of ill-will and wicked ways, but she was happy with herself. She indulged in her own horrid habits, letting them lead her life down roads that she enjoyed traversing. The more despicable, the better. She thrived on it. Ate bad decisions for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And if it weren’t for her ethereally gorgeous exterior, you’d think she was a demon reincarnated, destined to walk the earth and ruin more than just the lives of those she came in contact with. 

Each church she passed seemed more decadent than the last, the front steps all adorned with statues of saints and angels, and windows full of colorful glass that made her feel as though all the color had been drained from her world, only to fill them. None of them felt right, none of them felt… welcoming enough. She was taking a risk walking into a church at all, let alone one that she felt comfortable and invited into. It had to be the perfect one.

The blisteringly cold wind was whipping her hair in front of her face as she trudged down the snow-covered paths of the city, taking her breath away with each and every inhale. But she sucked it in, letting it freeze her lungs as extra punishment for her latest sin. She laughed at it, daring it to pierce her even harder as her lungs filled with it, feeling like heavy stones in her chest. ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ she asked the wind, pulling a silver tin and lighter from the deep depths of her shoulder bag. 

She removed one cigarette and turned her back to the wind, cupping her hand over the end to light a cherry. She puffed and took an even deeper inhale, letting the sweet tobacco ignite her senses. She closed her eyes as she faced the harsh wind again, exhaling the smoke as she laughed through the uncomfortable pain she felt in her lungs. 

‘That’s what I thought…’ she cursed the wind again, and continued to strut down the streets, hoping that her search would soon be over.

Trouble seemed to follow her, or moreso, chase after her. Though she would run, it would always catch up with her, enveloping her in every sense of the word. Trouble found her so often that she began to turn around and chase it back, catching up with it and eagerly living in her own world of wrongdoing and chaos as if it were no sweat off her back. She let the bitterness be her guide, and guide her, it did.

It’d always been that way; she was destined to be the dark cloud that hung over even the most joyous of times. She’d learned that as a young child, finding herself alone and fending for herself at an age too young to even note. She grew up fast, learning that the wicked ways of the world were always going to be her solace, and searching for any kind of happiness would end up being her downfall. It always was, and always would be.

She defended herself, made her own money, lived alone and never let anyone take advantage of her and her decisions. She’d thumbed her way across state lines, shacked up with too many men to count, robbed them of every bill in their wallets, and made her way on to the next without even blinking an eye. It was her way of life, and she fed off of the negativity that people spat her way. It fueled her. It gave her a reason to bitch… to hate. To ward off any good soul that would ever make its way into her life. 

That was, until she met Jake. 

Jake, the warm hand that helped her to her feet when she’d fallen down drunk at a bar one night after too many tequila shots on a pool bet. The sweet gentleman who insisted that he drive her home that night, knowing that she shouldn’t take a cab. The genuine soul who helped her into her sorry excuse for an apartment and covered her with a blanket, making sure she had a trash can and water by her side. Jake, the man who made her feel like less of a woman that night as he forced her into basic human safety. 

The man who, since that next morning, has never left the confines of her bed. 

Like a leech that sucked at every last drop of blood in her body, he made his way into her life, intertwining himself with her body in ways that she had never experienced before. He fucked her like a man starved, like a ravenous body whose only source of sustenance was her… mind, body, and soul. 

And she let him. 

She let him sleep in her bed. She let his tongue reach into the furthest depths of her body, bringing her to the brinks of Nirvana again and again and again. She let him make her breakfast. She let him spill his coffee as she straddled him at the kitchen table, fucking him into an oblivion before the sun even bothered to rise. 

She let him talk to her nicely, let him buy things for her, let him soothe her to sleep… she let him stay with her more than he stayed at his own home. Let him make her laugh for the first time in years.

She didn’t know why he stuck around, she chalked it up to him falling in lust with her body… an addiction to her that he couldn’t stave off. She gave him next to nothing in return. Nothing of substance, at least. She brought nearly nothing to the table, and the frail sticks that built the foundation of what some would call a relationship were coated in kerosene, ready to be ignited and burned down at a second’s notice, had she felt it right. 

She didn’t care if he stayed or left. She didn’t care if one day he up and disappeared, it wouldn’t make a difference. Everyone else always left her, what would make him any different? Nothing about her screamed forever, except for the dirty and rotten lifestyle that she had become accustomed to. 

So she lied to him. She pushed him away every chance that she got. She let other men into her life, knowing that the one waiting for her at home would just disappear sooner or later, anyway. She sucked men in dirty bar bathrooms for a buck, thinking absolutely nothing about going back home to her sweet, precious, innocent Jake. She took advantage of him, and reeled in the fact that living it up while she could actually felt good. Because sooner or later, the goodness would fall away, and she’d be left with nothing but her dreadful life once again.

But what was worse than her letting him be the sole purpose of her sexual life source, was that she let him tell her he loved her.

It was a sin greater than anything he’d ever known, a mistake so grave that with those three words, he’d admitted himself into an impossibility he wasn’t even familiar with. That he should run away from, and fast.

‘Take that back,’ she said, her voice groggy and pained as his words hit her in the chest. ‘You take that back right now, Jacob…’

‘I can’t, it’s the truth… I–I don’t want to ever know a life without you in it, baby. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted–’

‘You know that’s not the truth, you’re not blind. You aren’t a dumb man. You know I’m nothing. Take it back right now, or I’ll–

She dropped the dying plant that she held in her hands, satisfied with her inability to keep anything alive in her own home. Fucking figures, nothing ever thrived here, anyway. One less thing to take care of. 

‘No, see… that’s where you’re wrong. You’re everything…’

‘I’m not. I’m worth nothing… my soul is sold, my life is decided…’ she explained, panicked with the way he was showing her such softness. Always, so understanding. ‘I give nothing to you, and I never will. I’m worthless, you’ve got to understand that.’

‘You’re worth everything, baby… just be with me, stay with me, please… Tell me you love me back…’

She walked to him, placing her cold hand on the center of his chest as she glared up at him with blazing eyes. Her lips were coated with a thick red lipstick, matching exactly to the icy blood racing through her veins.

‘I don’t know how to love, Jacob. I never learned, I’ve never been shown… I don’t—I don’t know how.’

‘Don’t you feel it, though?’ he cried, pleading. He fell straight to his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around her legs. ‘You’ve got to feel it, too. God, you make love to me every night…you–’

‘I fuck you, Jacob. There’s a difference.’

He swallowed down his tears as he peered up at her, his knees caked with the dirt from the dead plant. He slowly stood back up, hot tears stinging his eyes. 

‘So none of it is real, then? Everything I feel when I’m with you, after all this time together… you feel nothing for me?’

He really did look pitiful, standing there with pointless tears in his eyes. If she thought about it really hard, really really hard, she might could have dug down deep into the trenches of her psyche to pinch at the trimmings of a tiny emotion that may seem like love… fuck, she had become a little dependent on him for some things in her life. 

But was it love? No. No, love is supposed to make you want to scream from the rooftops, make you want to settle down, start a family, the whole nine. But she felt none of that. All she felt was the satisfaction that she had constant rather fucking good dick in her life and someone to share a lighter with.

Love. The word was repulsive. Making people become their most vulnerable, most distracted versions of themselves. She didn’t have time for that. She had to focus in on herself, and keep it that way. If she didn’t, she feared that she’d lose herself forever. She’d never given another human so much as a second glance in the way of heartfelt emotions, let alone told a man that she loved him. 

‘Jake, do you not understand that the sooner you distance yourself from me, the sooner you’ll be on your way to finding someone who can reciprocate this…love?’ she asked him, her teeth gritted and her arms crossed in disgust. Though her sexual passion for him had been at an all-time high as of late, and she had been planning on asking him to fuck her over the arm of the couch tonight, now, she found his display of vulnerability a bit off-putting. 

‘You’re fucking impossible, babe. I swear to god…’ Jake’s expression turned from pleading to pissed off in a hurry, as he rushed around the room picking up his dirty laundry from random places across the floor. She watched as he angrily ripped a backpack from the closet and began stuffing his belongings into it, sniffing away his agitated tears and rubbing at his dripping nose. 

‘Impossible. I gave myself to you, gave everything to you… I try my best to make you happy, care for you, everything a man would do for the woman he loves. It’s been six fucking months… all this time and you tell me you feel nothing for me…? All this time, I’ve just been a roommate who you fuck…’

She could feel the negative energy flowing off of him, brushing past her and latching onto her skin in a way that felt unfamiliar. It danced around her like a cold breeze in the dead of winter, making her sorry excuse for a heart feel like it had lost its heading. Normally, she’d ravish in his cross attitude and use it to her advantage, but… something about this felt off. It felt serious. 

She watched his figure glide toward her as he threw the backpack over his shoulder, keeping his eyes trained on hers as he approached her. He took her chin between his fingers, lifting her head back so she was forced to stare back at him. The fire in his touch nearly burned her skin to the bone while the blacks of his eyes stared into her more deeply than they ever had before.

‘You may think I’m crazy for loving you, and fuck, maybe I am. But no one has ever promised that life happens just the way we want. I’ve sacrificed a lot for you, changed my whole world around to fit into yours. Now it’s time for you to grow up, get that fucking cursed head of yours on straight, and realize that no one is ever going to care for you the way I do. No one will, ever. I just need you stop being so fucking hard headed, and realize what’s in front of you before you let this hell you live in consume you.’ 

She was left stunned. Speechless, but not caught off guard. She knew this day would come. She knew his emotions would boil down to this. And though the wall she surrounded herself with was ten feet high and built of concrete, the look in Jake’s eyes and the determination in his voice created a crack. Nothing more than a fissure that had the potential to grow, but she’d be damned if she let it crumble. 

She replied with a few blinks and a deep breath, staving off the faintest feeling of tears fighting their way to the forefront. He was breaking her down, but she couldn’t let him know that. 

His top lip snarled. ‘I knew you’d have nothing to say.’

And he wasn’t lying. He knew his confessions would be met with resilience as her inability to let him in stood unmoving. The fortress she’d built up around herself was stronger than he’d realized. He just thought… maybe… if he let his truth show in its entirety, if he laid himself at her feet and let the words of adoration fly freely that she’d show some type of reciprocation.

But she didn’t. She never has. And, maybe she never will. 

She felt his shoulder bump into hers as he brushed past her, huffing through an unbelieving laugh as he made his way to the door. 

‘I’m leaving. Giving you a few days to come to your senses, or maybe not. I’ll be back to say goodbye. Get my shit. And when I do you can tell me to go, or you can ask me to stay. Whatever you decide, I’ll do.’

His hand rested on the doorknob as he looked back at her, taking her in one final time before she heard the mechanism turn. She held true, not willing to allow him to see her expression show even the least amount of emotion. He didn’t speak another word as she watched his back step through the door, slamming it hard behind him as silence began to take up shelter in her home.  

And then, like a gunshot to the chest, she felt her ribs begin to shudder, and her limbs begin to lose their function. Her head spun, her stomach churned. Dizziness filled her head and she lost all ability to form a thought. What had she done?

She felt the tears spring to her eyes finally, warm and stinging as she couldn’t even believe they were there. A man, making her…cry? It couldn’t be… this doesn’t happen. Ever. 

But fight as she may, she couldn’t stop them. In fact, the more she tried to suppress them, the more heavily they fell. And not only was it tears, the grief that suddenly struck her was felt through the entirety of her body, shaking and crashing through her so fiercely that she fell to her knees, realizing that she was now kneeling in the dirt that Jake had just been in. The mess that she created. 

She gripped herself in grief, curling into a ball on the floor, uncaring that the soil was now covering her stark white blouse. The blouse that Jake had bought her on his birthday this year, insisting that his best gift would be to see her in it, with no other shred of clothing on underneath. 

She lied there confused and uncertain why it felt like the world had just ended, when all that had happened was another man had decided to exit her life, just like always. It felt like a shot through her heart, a physical pain she’d never endured before, at the loss of him. 

Hours, she layed on the cold hardwood, letting the grief consume her while trying her damndest to stifle it off. It wracked through her in heavy sobs, moments of clarity completely overtaken by bouts of harsh, mind-numbing pain. She should have chased after him, she should have yelled and screamed his name…

She argued with the fact that what she was feeling was real, but still so distant from her normal emotions when she’d be deserted. She was used to this. It’s part of her norm, but why does this time feel so different?

He said he’d be back…there’s still time to…

Jake had shown her more mercy than any man– any human– had shown her in her entire life. He’d loved her through all her faults, cared for her when she had no idea how to care for herself. But she’s nothing more than the mirror image of this dirt on the floor– why did he care?

She rolled over to her back, staring at the last bit of sunlight shining a stream of light across the ceiling. She watched as the dust floated through it, illuminating the streaks of dirt that sullied the corners of her home. Tobacco stained the walls that were once white, making them appear more brown and blotchy than bright and clean. Her furniture was broken and stained, and her old records lay in disarray across her tabletops. 

She took a breath as she finally felt the tears start to dry, turning on her side to take a closer look at her floors. Dusty and unclean, just like her walls. Her rugs were caked with dirt from shoes that were never kicked off at the door. Scuffs painted the once beautifully shined hardwood, and she noticed that the place reeked of uncleanliness. 

She rolled over and got up on all fours, feeling as though her body had been hit by a freight train. Her chest shuddered again as she fought off another sob, brought on by catching sight of Jake’s still half-full coffee cup resting on the table. “Half a teaspoon of sugar, nothing else. I don’t like anything in my life being too sweet,” she whispered out loud, reciting his daily mantra as she would pour their cups from the carafe. 

Just then, her eyes shot open, a realization hitting her almost as hard as the sound of Jake slamming the door earlier. 

Never once did Jake try to clean the floors. Never once did he try and dust the corners, or fix the furniture. He was happy just existing in her home, just the way that it was. “Too sweet”, she repeated as she sat back on her heels, wiping the cold tears from her cheeks. Of course… 

Just like her. 

He liked bitterness. He liked sharpness, and rigidity. He enjoyed the grittiness and sometimes even sourness of her world. Why else would he have stayed? He didn’t prefer the cream and the sugar and flavors, just black. With one-half teaspoon of sugar. Just like his coffee in the morning, he loved her just the way she was, took her in without really trying to change her. 

He lived in her unclean house, resided in her hollow excuse for a home. Slept in her sheets that could have used some bleach, all the while knowing that if he tried to fix it, if he tried to change anything about her home, it wouldn’t be hers anymore. It wasn’t his place, it wasn’t his to fix. Sure, he would have done so if she’d asked. But he knew damn good and well to not overstep when it came to any kind of argument with her. He’d always lose. 

Realization hit her like a ton of bricks, the same bricks and heavy stone that built up the walls she’d enclosed herself in. All of them, tumbling down and crashing around her as she finally realized that she’d chased away the only good thing that had ever happened to her, watching him turn his back on their life together with a scowl on his face and distaste on his tongue.

But he’s coming back… 

But coming back to what? The same old shit? The same old miserable person who shamed him for showing her his deepest form of intimacy? Or on an even more basic scale, showed her compassion?

She rolled to sit on her ass, hugging her knees in around herself as she tried to catch her breath. The sun was setting now as a darkness began to fill the room, the absence of sunlight breaking her heart even further. Normally she thrived in the darkness, but right then, it felt like it was going to consume her. 

Dirty dishes sat in the sink. Mail sat piled up on the counter, unread and forgotten. Piles of laundry took up every corner, and her pantry shelves sat empty. “What the fuck is wrong with me…” she whispered again to no one in particular. She turned and crawled over to her couch, leaning her back against it as she reached for her pack of cigarettes. She lit one up, letting her head rest back onto the cushions as the smoke drifted up from her lips. The first few stars were beginning to poke their way into the night sky, but the light pollution from the city only let six or eight make their debut. 

So she focused in on one, staring at it until her eyes went dry and the ash of her cigarette fell onto the couch, burning yet another hole in the soft, brown leather. She destroyed everything she touched. Jake would be smart to stay far away from her, never looking back as he went on with his life in the way that he wanted to live it. 

But she knew that he would come back. And he would come back expecting change. Making decisions for other people wasn’t something she was ever a fan of, but the hole in her heart felt as though it was only growing bigger and bigger with every breath she took without Jake by her side. 

And for the first time in her life, she tamped out her cigarette, and stood up to clean her home.

—--

Finally, she stumbled upon it. It wasn’t oversized or grandiose… There weren’t fifty steps that led up to its giant iron front doors, and the stained glass that made up the windows looked as though they were built for function, not vanity. No statues lined the front walls, and the bells that tolled from its steeple sounded cheerful and gracious, instead of ominous and foreboding. 

The perfect church.

Her feet didn’t stumble as she climbed the steps, and her hand didn’t burn as she pushed the heavy door open, like she thought it would. The temperature inside was a stark difference from the icy wind that cut through her outdoors, and the sweet smell of incense and burning wick caught her senses right off the bat. She slowly stepped inside, letting her eyes adjust to the new light. 

It was radiant, glowing and warm as her feet carried her further inside, completely enveloping her in an otherwise peaceful embrace. Though she still felt as though she could run away if she needed to, something held her there, caught in the trance of the sun casting rainbow rays across the old wooden pews. A few bodies scattered here and there littered them, every one of them knelt and unmoving as they likely had come here for the same reason she had. Repentance. 

Her line of sight finally caught the very front of the church and fixed in on the Crucifix hanging above a large, wooden table. ‘Strange…’ she thought to herself, still not calling herself educated or open-minded enough to want to understand the symbology of everything that had to do with a church. 

Flickering candles lined the walls, and she finally caught sight of more statues, giant bouquets of flowers, and even lavish chandeliers hanging from the tall and towering ceilings, all of it making her feel like she was two feet tall. 

‘Maybe this was a bad idea…’ her conscience tried to tell her. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t be in a place like this, after all…’

Her heart started beating heavily in her chest as the dominating ceilings began to feel like they were swallowing her up, and the candles felt as though they were going to ignite, setting the entire place on fire had she let out the breath she’d been holding. She turned on her heels and began making a mad dash for the doors, instantly regretting even walking through them, at all. 

“Miss?” she heard a man’s voice. “Can I help you?”

She turned to find an older man dressed in all black, walking toward her just as she reached for the door handle. “Are you lost, my child?”

Her hand gently gripped the handle as she stopped, finally letting out the choppy breath she’d been harboring until she could let the bitter cold rip her lungs to shreds again. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she looked at him, knowing that he was just the person she had come here to find. 

“I–uh, I was just wondering if…” She stumbled over her words, because in all reality, she hadn’t even rehearsed them. Something in her didn’t even think she’d make it this far into the outskirts of the city, let alone come face to face with a Priest. 

He lowered his head and looked above his glasses as if it would help him understand her better, his expression full of anticipation. Soft anticipation. 

She cleared her throat, finding herself. “I was just wondering if you would allow me to… to take part in uhm, confession…?”

“Confession? Are you saved, child?” he asked, his voice simply curious. 

“No, sir. I just would like to… I’m seeking a bit of forgiveness, and this is the first place I thought of to… to find it?” she asked again, wringing her hands together. 

He studied her for a few beats, a slight smirk finding his lips as he held his hand out. “Of course, Miss. I’d be happy to assist you, in the confessional, just over here…” he motioned to the side of the grand room toward an old wooden structure that seemed to jut out from the wall it was against. It had two doors, both standing wide open as if they were inviting her inside. 

“Just there?” she reiterated, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy. 

“Mm,” he responded with a smile. “You go on inside, I’ll be right in behind you,” he said, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. “Oh, would you prefer face to face, or with the barrier?”

“Uh, I’m not sure—” she remarked, unsure of if she had even seen a confessional besides in the old movies. “Barrier, I suppose.”

“No problem,” he replied, turning once again to rush out of her sight. 

She took a deep breath as she slowly moved toward the small structure, her heart pounding in her ears even more loudly now as she approached it. She didn’t feel threatened by it, per se, but she rather felt that the vulnerability she was about to propose to a perfect stranger would backfire, making her finally come face to face with all the demons that have inhabited her all her life. She was on the brink of letting them consume her, but everytime her mind would teeter on the edge, all she could see was Jake’s face as he left her apartment that day, wrecked and disappointed.

She stepped into the tiny dark space, finding there to be a wooden chair inside, covered in an old rust-colored cushion. A few candles hung on the walls, along with books, pamphlets and bibles tucked away underneath the chair. The barrier that was between the Priest and where she was to sit was like a thin wire lattice, adorned with symmetric designs that reminded her of something she’d seen in a movie once. She slowly took a seat, closing the small door behind her. 

Her eyes watered as she became anxious again, waiting for the Priest to enter on the other side. Her leg bounced up and down as her body heat adjusted from the cold. ‘This is a good idea… this is going to be just fine…’ she thought to herself as she took deep and heavy breaths in and out through her nose. Nothing about this was going to be easy.

Just then, she heard the squeak of the opposite door swinging open, followed by the sound of the Priest entering, clearing his throat. 

“Welcome,” he said, rather cheerfully. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I’ve not seen your face before, and if I have, please forgive me,” he went on. “When was your last confession?”

All she could see was the silhouette of his face, and the outline of the glasses still sitting low on his nose. She could hear the pages of a book rustling in his lap. 

“Um, this–this is the first time,” she admitted, pleased that she was able to be honest. 

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Well, in that case, the Lord is pleased that you’ve found us here, today. Please, underneath your chair is a guidebook. It will help walk us through the steps.”

She wearily reached below her and pulled out the stack of pamphlets and books, fiddling through them as she looked for what he asked. She dropped a few as they skittered from her hands, all of the wording on the front of them suddenly turning into another language entirely. Her vision started to blur as she felt restless, suddenly anxious as she flipped through the unfamiliar pages. 

“Did you find it?” she hears him ask. 

“No, there are a lot of them…” she responded, still searching. 

“It’s there, a small yellow one…” he said as she continued to juggle the papers.

“Ugh,” she grunted, obviously becoming aggravated.

“You know what? Don’t bother. I’ll walk you through it, sound good?” the Priest said.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied with a little bit of annoyance in her voice, tossing the papers back up underneath the seat. 

“OK, so you say, ‘Bless me Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.’”

She stayed silent as she recited the words in her head, feeling as though the entire experience was beginning to shoot straight downhill. This isn’t anything like she imagined. 

Nevertheless, she recited the words back, earning a quick clap from the Priest. “Great,” he said, cheerfully again. “Now, tell me, have you examined your conscience in preparation for your confession?”

A million scenarios began to float through her mind, all of them running into one another as she basically lived the same horrible life, every single day. The only thing that breaks them up is Jake; her memories with him are more extravagant now, since she has learned what life feels like without him. 

“Uh, no? Not really?” she replied, crossing her legs as she tried to get comfortable in the old chair. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Have you stopped to think about what has brought you here today… there has to be a reason that you were feeling as though you needed to get something off your chest, hm?” the Priest replied.

“I mean I didn’t kill anybody in cold blood, if that’s what you’re wanting to know,” she replied sharply.

The Priest let out a bellowed laugh, surely surprised by her words. “Well, I would hope not. This is the time when you confess your sins to the Lord, honestly, and truthfully. Remember, I’m only a vessel to God. Confessing to me and confessing to Him are two very different things.”

“Then why do people come to you?” she asked. “What’s the point if they can just talk to God?”

“That’s an excellent question, child. And, you have a very valid point. I could go on and on about this history of why it is done this way, but that’s not why we’re here today,” he went on. “You can talk to the Lord anytime you please. But it is through my priesthood that I am able to act in persona Christi, or “in place of Christ”, and give you a real experience of confessing your sins to the most high. It’s really just… accountability.”

“Sounds more like you learning all about my business then judging me for it,” she spat back, crossing her arms. “If I went home, and said my confessions out loud, it’d still be an experience, wouldn’t it?” She noted his silence. “But… I’d just have one less person judging me for it.”

There’s a long pause as she awaits an answer from him, but instead she’s met with the sound of a long sigh. 

“What drove you through those doors, child?” He finally asks, a bit of grit to his voice.

She huffed a breath, leaning forward onto her elbows. “I told you, I’m seeking forgiveness. And I’m going to be up front with you, Father, I don’t believe in God.”

She half expected him to tell her to leave, for him to stand up and place blasphemy to her name, banishing her through the doors, and telling her never to return. But he didn’t. 

“All of God’s children are on their own journeys to putting their lives in His hands… and you coming in here today shows that though you might not have fulfilled your journey to acceptance, you’ve at least made the first step.”

“No no, see, I’m not sure you understand me, Father,” she interrupted, her voice growing hasty. “I don’t believe, I have never believed, and I don’t plan on ever being faithful to your God. I would like to make that clear…”

“I see…” he growled, obviously still puzzled why she is there, at all.

“But… the wrong I’ve done in my life… I need to confess it, own up to it. I have no one else to go to. I—I don’t have any family, or any friends who I can get this all out to. And fuck, Lord knows I don’t have enough money to go see a shrink,” she stopped herself. “Shit, sorry, for…sorry.”

“Go on,” she saw the shadow of his hand waving through the metal barrier. 

She sighed. “I guess I just… need to relinquish myself from all the choices I’ve made to become the person that I am. I need to change, I have to change, or else I might lose everything…” she stumbled over the last word, still feeling very conflicted about this whole situation. But she had to do it. Had to do it for him.

“Everything?” the Priest presses after he notices her silence. 

She licked her lips, the faint taste of tobacco still stuck to them. The flavor made her fiend for another. 

“Him,” she replied uneasily. “I could lose him.”

“Your… friend? A significant other?”

“The latter, I guess.” She wanted to stand up and pace the small space, but there was hardly enough room for her to stand up all the way. The walls felt as though they were closing in again, but on the other hand, this Priest was surprisingly easy to talk to. 

“Ah,” he replied, and she saw him adjust his glasses and the book on his lap. “You feel as though you need to make some changes in your life to… meet up to the standards of being with this man? Is that what I’m reading?”

Wow. Well…

“Yes, yeah that’s about the sum of it.” She grit her teeth as the image of Jake’s face thrummed through her mind again. Fuck, she could use a cigarette. 

“Tell me child, what kind of person do you see yourself as?” he asked. 

Her lips pursed hard, and she nearly bit a hole through them. This man had no idea how hard this was. “A bad one. Shitty. Fucked up beyond all repair…”

Her throat felt hollow as the words spilled off her tongue, brash and self-deprecating, just like she always was to herself. But for some reason, admitting it to someone else made it feel all the more harsh. 

“Not one of God’s children is beyond repair, Miss…” he said quietly, letting the words sink through the heavy air. 

“Well, God might have met his match,” she said, kicking back and crossing her legs again. Every bone in her body was begging her to disagree with her conscience, but some force deep inside her decided to stay, though her hands were burning to rush for the doorknob. 

“There is always time…”

“Yeah but what if there’s not, huh? What if he never comes back… and I just stay the way that I am, or I go back to my old ways, and chase him off again? Huh?” Her words travel a mile a minute. “What if I can’t live up to what he wants me to be?”

There was another pause as a short sob found her chest, catching in the back of her throat. Admitting everything out loud had started to weigh on her. She was going to have to dig deep to find the rest. 

“Ma’am, may I call you Ma’am…?” the Priest asked, and she noticed his body language change. 

“Sure. S’fine,” she replied, not really caring to share her name. 

“I know that you said that you don’t have any faith in the Lord, and that you have no interest in getting to know Him. But tell me this, even though you seem to have struggled through your time here on earth, do you still have faith in yourself?”

She paused, feeling his words hit her in the chest. She hadn’t ever thought of that, really. Always avoiding self-reflection for the simple sake of not wanting to hold herself accountable for anything. Or rather, not wanting to face it.

“I suppose, a little. Guess I have to have some, or else I wouldn’t have made it this far in my life. I should’ve been dead a long time ago, Father,” she said quietly, sucking her tongue into the side of her mouth. 

“Is that so?”

“It’s very much so.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, by which way?” he pressed.

She took a sharp breath. “Drugs. Alcohol, bad decisions… the whole nine. Hell, half my life I don’t remember on account of being too fucked up to remember my own name. I’ve kinda moved past that time in my life as of late, though. Cleaned up enough to hold my own, be my own provider,” she said honestly and truthfully, feeling a twinge of pride for herself. “Childhood was ruined from the time I was old enough to walk, I never stood a chance. Let black clouds follow me around. Hell, I invited them along, most of the time. Hardly remember my parents ever being around. Had to succumb to survival at a real, real early age, if you catch my drift,” she went on, her hand habitually reaching into her over-stuffed bag to grip her pack of cigarettes. 

“I see,” he replied. “It seems as though you were dealt an unfair hand from the get go.” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed, pulling a smoke from the pack and placing it between her lips. “I–I stole a lot, took more from people than I care to admit. That’s something that weighs pretty heavy on me,” she admitted with her glare hitting the floor. 

“We ask your forgiveness, Lord,” the Priest muttered, taking in a shaky breath. “God… is all-forgiving, child. Don’t forget that. But to clear one’s conscience, you must first and foremost have the intention of never going back on the promise you make to God, and, to yourself, to never repeat these sins. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” she said. “I–I’m ready for my slate to be clean.”

“And clean it shall be,” he agrees. “If I may, Ma’am, I feel as though you’re withholding something, is there a certain subject you’re avoiding? Something else you’d like to disclose?”

The way that the Priest read her like a book had her dumbfounded. She even wondered, for a split second, if he had once studied psychology. Or hell, maybe it was a class he had to take to become a Priest. Shit, she didn’t know. 

But he had broken her, unwilling to let her deceive him much further. Obviously she had felt comfortable enough to let her heart travel from inside her chest to making its debut on her sleeve, as she sat in disbelief that the Priest had noticed that she was, indeed, holding her gravest secret hostage. 

A secret that, until this moment, she had never even fathomed speaking aloud. A memory that kept her up at night, haunted her daydreams, poisoned her nightmares and hurt her soul to its absolute core. It was a decision that she made that altered the course of her life, set her sails to a heading that she never saw herself sailing to. It possessed the back corners of her mind, cursed every word that fell from her lips, and enveloped her body with so much guilt, some days she wasn’t sure she deserved to be on this earth. 

The sole reason she never let anyone get close to her, for fear of putting her ill-will directly onto them, solely by way of association. 

“Might be,” she clipped, tossing the tiny red lighter over and over in her hand as the devil on her shoulder begged her to light it. Her hands began to shake and tremble with nerves, the need for nicotine overtaking her entire being as she felt her lungs begin to burn. Finally she succumbed, igniting the lighter to life as she brought it to the end of her cigarette. “Mind if I smoke in here?” she muttered before letting it light all the way. 

She heard the Priest snicker to himself. “We don’t have smoke alarms… I’ll light some incense later,” he replied. 

She laughed through her nose. “Really?”

“If it will help you through this, then I won’t tell anyone. There are some things in life that just… are.”

She hastily smiled as she took her first long, drawn out puff. “You smoke sometimes too, don’t you Father?” she asked, watching as the small room filled with the effects of her cheap smokes. 

“I haven’t been a shepherd of the Lord my whole life,” he admitted with a little lilt to his voice. “I was a teenager in the 1960’s.”

“Ahh,” she replied, “so you’ve lived a little?” Suddenly she felt as though she wasn’t sitting here in a holy and blessed building where people come to take in the body and blood of Christ, but instead, she’s sitting at a barstool, having a drink and a smoke and sharing wisdom with an old-timer. 

“I have,” he says confidently. “Sinned through my fair share of years. Was married, and divorced. Wasn’t even called to Priesthood until I turned 40. Tell me, have you ever heard the term Come to Jesus moment?”

“Yeah, I have. That what happened to you?”

“Sure was. Nearly died in a diving accident. I was drowning. Water was filling my lungs. Until I looked up to the surface, saw a light more pristine and more beautiful than I had ever experienced, and God spoke to me.”

“He spoke to you…”

“He did. As clear as day, I heard His voice in my mind. Told me to swim up. That I wasn’t finished, yet. I had a mission on earth that I had to fulfill. I was always a spiritual person, but it was that day that I became a devout, religious man of God. A shepherd of His Word amongst men. And I have never looked back,” he explained with energy in his tone. 

“Wow…” she said, so taken by his story that she forgot about the cigarette burning in her hand. She tapped the ashes into a small metal box she kept in the front zipper of her bag. “So, just like that, you decided you’d never be the same again?”

“Just like that.”

“That must have been powerful,” she agreed, running her hand along her thigh. 

“More powerful than you could ever imagine, Ma’am,” he said with a quiet whisper. “Think about it, a man who’s life was consumed with normalcy, and driven into heartache from a divorce. I thrived on sex, and partook in activities every man of my age did. I got to experience it– I got to live. Not many men of my profession get to say that. And trust me, it took some convincing of those above me. But, I think that is why I am able to do what I do so well, I’m able to connect with God’s children, because I too, have lived a lot of the same life.”

She sat stunned, suddenly wishing that she could look him in the eye as he admitted such sensitive information to her. Was this the normal exchange of a Confession? She wasn’t sure, but, as the minutes ticked, her chest began to feel lighter and lighter. 

“I think that is a very valid conclusion to make, Father,” she said honestly. “You’ve never been tempted to go back? Realized you made a mistake?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t overstepping. 

“Temptation is the work of the Devil. And I am only human. Being tempted with lust for anything in life is part of the human experience, and God wrote that into our souls when he created us. But the other gift He gave us was free will, and the ability to overcome such temptation, should we so choose it. God wants us to live, of course, but only if it is through a life that mirrors Him, and the life of His son, Jesus.”

She smirked through an exhale. “Sounds like you needed to hit this cigarette just as badly as I did.” 

He laughed. “I appreciate the offer, child, but I believe that would go against too many rules.”

She genuinely smiled to herself, realizing that talking to him might have been one of the better decisions she’s made, as of late. The weights were being lifted off her shoulders, the heaviness was dissolving in her chest. Her place sitting in this Holy Barstool was becoming quite comfortable. 

She felt all the air leave her lungs as she let herself decide. Finally, she felt ready to disclose her deepest, darkest secret. 

“So you are right, Father, I am holding something else back,” she said, tamping the cigarette out. She wouldn’t realize it until later, but the Priest knew that if he opened up just a bit more than normal about his own life, then it might help her to feel more comfortable disclosing hers. And he was right. 

“Please, child, let your burden be free…”

She swallowed, feeling the taste of bile rising in her throat as she tried her best to swallow down her nerves again. 

“I was twenty-one, somewhere on the road between here and Texas. I was… caught up with some guy I had no business bein’ with, sharing his bed and his lifestyle. Half-alive, if you know what I mean. I don’t– my memory is fuzzy, of everything that led up to then. I was constantly high, living off of scraps and booze.” She shuddered at the memory, feeling the cold of the air outside beginning to creep in again. 

“Well, turned out that man had a wife. And that wife was caught up in the same shit that we were. It was… it was a fucked up situation. She came back one day, didn’t give half a damn that I was even there. Never even threw a fit, never yelled, never argued about it. There were people in and out of that house all the time. But, she didn’t come back alone. She came back with… with a ten month old baby. Baby boy…” She suddenly felt a cold rush of tears puddling in the corners of her eyes. Her jaw clenched, and her fingers went numb.

“It was their son. And the Mom, she… she was just as hooked on the shit as the rest of us were,” she said. She began to cry, letting the frozen tears coat her cheeks, allowing them to fall freely. Her voice shook, and her chest heaved as she not only recounted the memory, but she admitted it. 

“That baby was barely surviving. I remember trying to console him… it was none of my business but… you know. Sometimes his parents were too far gone to even–” she could hardly finish. “I can still hear his cries. I can still remember how it felt to hold him, trying to find whatever I could to feed him. Fuck…”

“Let it go, child. Keep letting it out…” the Priest encouraged with a softness. 

She took a deep breath, her eyes blurry with tears and regret. Her chest felt so heavy she could hardly breathe. 

“That baby was–was me, Father. Just born twenty-one years later. Born into the same hellhole that I had been, and already fighting for his life. I knew how that baby felt, I knew exactly how he–” Her sentence clipped again as she wiped her tears, getting herself together, somewhat. 

“I remember that day, it was hot as Hell outside. There were people in that house, just–people, strangers, everywhere. All there for the same fucked-up reasons. And that baby, he was hungry, cryin’. We’d uh… we’d caught word that there were eyes on the house, and that there could be a raid soon, so everyone was scrambling. I had become that baby’s caretaker, I was the only one with enough sense to take care of him, using my pennies to buy him diapers, whatever I could. And believe me, I was in no shape to be doing even that. But… I knew I was going to have to run soon. If there was going to be a raid, I knew I had to get gone. It was that, or go to prison. I– I had to make a decision that night, to leave. Leave that baby there, with them…” 

Her throat was tight, and her limbs had gone numb. The headache that had begun to consume her was blinding, but she accepted the pain as punishment, just like always. 

“I uhm, I made it out. The raid actually did go down. But I heard… But I heard that baby didn’t make it. He didn’t– he didn’t survive, and I did. I did! I should have taken him with me… I should have gone to the police, told someone about him, but… I was too selfish. I was too sick in my own head…” 

The tears were pouring from her nose and eyes, and though she was doing all she could to keep them at bay, she welcomed them, feeling some sort of strange semblance of… peace? No, peace was not the word. There was no word to describe this type of emotion. 

“The decisions we make can alter the course of our lives, no matter how positive or negative they may be…” the Priest lamented, his voice heavy with empathy. 

“Yeah,” she agreed sarcastically. “And my conscience has been nothing but a weapon to myself, ever since. I–I have never forgiven myself for that. I’m not sure that I ever will.”

“And you may not,” the Priest agreed. “Sins like that are ones that are particularly grueling to overcome.”

“I’ll say,” she gritted, wiping her nose with her sleeve. 

“You’ve taken the first step though, haven’t you?”

“What, telling you?”

“Yes, admitting to yourself that you made a grave mistake, even though the fate of that child was out of your hands, essentially,” he replied. 

“Yeah, but– I could have done more, I could have helped him–”

“And how do you know what you would have done would have helped?”

“Anything would have been better than what he got,” she cried, her voice hollow. “Anything.”

“I don’t disagree with you, child. Carrying this burden on your shoulders has probably been the hardest thing in your life.” 

“It was, it is. But–after that, I got clean. I checked myself into rehab. Never touched the shit again. Though I still have my vices, and I still make decisions that aren’t much better… that part of my life is over.”

“That was step two,” he said. 

“I guess so,” she agreed. “Still doesn’t help the hole in my heart. The guilt.”

“My child, you may carry this guilt with you for the rest of your life. I’m sure there is not much anyone can say to take that away. Your life is your own, and though you made a decision all those years ago, that fate does not lie in your hands. That child had parents with a responsibility. They failed him. They failed him so much more seriously than you did,” he went on. “The fact that you had a conscience, have a conscience about it tells me that you are much bigger of a person than you give yourself credit for.”

“But I’ve let that decision guide my life, I’ve let it consume my every move…”

“And where has it gotten you? You’re still blessed with the gift of life, yes?”

“Yes, but–”

“Then now, starting to-day, turn it around. Start living your life for you, instead of against you. Let yourself lean away from the guilt instead of into it. Let yourself feel happiness, let yourself be loved, even if it is in a different image of God than what the true believers do. Live your life in honor of that sweet baby boy, and not in vain of him.”

His words struck her silent again as she felt the fingers of grief tapping on her ribcage, tickling at the deepest depths of her mind and soul, letting her know that yes, maybe peace is possible. Maybe forgiveness is attainable. Maybe absolution is within reach. 

“Sometimes life is dark. Sometimes life is bright. Sometimes it’s cloudy and muffled and confusing, and other times it’s so desolate that we don’t know where to go. What to do with it.” His words still felt weighted as he spoke without expecting much of an answer… almost like he was reveling in her heartache, too. “But it is up to us as humans to live and serve to the utmost degree. Life is a gift.”

“That it is,” she said solemnly. 

“The Lord pulled me from that dark place, Ma’am, that much I can tell you to be truth. Whether or not you accept Him into your life is your prerogative. But there are other passageways, other paths you can follow to find yourself again. Your true self, the one that apparently someone has fallen in love with.”

Her eyes cast downward onto the worn wood of the floor, scuffed and beaten from years of tired souls visiting this same seat, laying everything out on the line for this stranger. 

“I don’t know why he loves me,” she whispered. 

Her heart felt like a fluttering mess, dancing in her chest at the just thought of Jake. But it was quickly extinguished as she remembered how she treated him, how her heart didn’t know how to reciprocate. Shattering itself into a thousand pieces, beating only to keep her alive. It knew how to do that much, at least. But anything more, anything greater than herself was out of the question. 

“Does anyone really know why they love something? Truly?” he pressed. 

“Not sure what you mean…”

“We can come up with a thousand reasons that may aid in the description of how we love things and people, measurable to certain degrees. But there is no one true word to describe why we love these things. It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries, an emotion that God gifted us that is so strong, it can overcome anything that stands in its way. Might you agree?”

She nodded, letting his words sink in again. “I could agree with that, though I’m not sure I’ve ever felt it.”

“You loved that baby boy, that much, I am sure of,” the Priest went on. “You exemplified more compassion for that child that you didn’t even know than his own parents did. And you still blame yourself for everything that happened to him. That, my dear, is love.”

She blinked a few times, glancing at his silhouette on the other side of the screen. It could be true, she supposed, that that deep and grating feeling she felt each and every time she thought of that baby could be… love, though in her mind, it was always masked by feelings of grief. 

“And this man in your life that you say you don’t understand his compassion toward you… Could you place him in the same category as you are, with that child?” he pressed. “Though you never knew that child aside from those few short days with him, could this man not share those same binding emotions?”

She sat silent. 

“Love doesn’t disguise itself, Ma’am. It is, and has always been, one of the most pertinent and obvious phenomena since the dawn of time. We can’t explain it, we can’t harness it… sometimes it slips through our fingers before we even have a chance to recognize it. But you my dear, seem to have recognized it. Or else, you wouldn’t be here, hmm?”

“He deserves someone so much better than me… he deserves the entire world…” 

“Then give it to him! Give him your world! Pick yourself up, dust off everything that keeps you from feeling happiness, and throw it to the wayside. Give him you, dear. Truly, that’s all a good man wants… is to be loved in return. Respected. Respected by a good woman who respects herself.”

She bites her lips together again, reciting his words over and over in her head. Give him your world…

“We could all go to be with God tomorrow, child. Waste your time no longer, allow yourself to surrender to a life you deserve… Do you believe you deserve him, and his love for you?”

She swallowed down another sob, suddenly feeling as though she could relinquish herself, and give everything to Jake, if it meant that the next time he stepped into her home, he promised to never leave. “I think I could get to that point, yes. I–He is the best thing that’s ever happened to me… He’s brilliant, caring, a provider… He’s strong and his compass never strays. He makes me laugh, god, he makes me laugh. The good kind where you have tears running down your face and you’re gasping for air. He… challenges me. He shows me empathy when I don’t deserve it. Hell, I never deserve it,” she pauses. “I can’t imagine my life without him beside me, and I don’t ever want to have a dream that he isn’t in. He’s shown me more passion than any man I’ve ever known… selfless, in every sense of the word. He’s all I’ve ever known of…love.”

Ah, there it was. 

Finally, the word graced her lips like a welcome taste of sweet sugar, biting only a little bit, but that was solely out of shock. Love… love… suddenly it didn’t seem like such a burden. It didn’t feel like poison in her mouth or fire burning her tongue. It felt like a thousand soft hands and the warmth of a coffee on a cold morning. It felt like a comforting embrace, a reassuring hand holding hers. Finally, her walls of stone had begun to crumble, all at the hands of imagining a life without her lover. 

“Then go to him, tell him.”

“How–how can I explain myself? How can I make sure I’ve covered all my ground and that I don’t miss a thing?” she asked, a little bit panicked. 

“Write him a letter. Go home, sit down, and write it all out. That way you can cover all your bases, without the urgency of telling him face to face. And be there… when he is ready to discuss it all. If this man is able to pull you from your own depths of despair, then he deserves an explanation from your heart. A true one.”

She nodded again, actually considering that writing Jake a letter could be manageable. She knew he would be back soon, and she knew that as soon as he stepped through the door, he would be expecting something.

Suddenly she wanted to run. And this time, not away, but to. 

“Am I redeemed, Father?” she asked with a bit of urgency in her tone. 

“Are you leaving God’s house with self-absolution, child? Are you truly sorry for your sins?”

“Yes. Yes, I am truly sorry. I will change, I will. I have to…” she barked genuinely, standing to collect her things. 

“Then through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in peace, child. Love, and serve.”

“Thank you, thank you, Father…” she plead with sincerity, feeling a fierceness in her chest that she’d never felt before. 

“Go home, and pick up a pencil! Don’t stray away from it, embrace it!” she heard his voice as she stood to exit the confessional. She stepped out and let her eyes adjust back to the vibrant rainbow light that was reflecting off the white walls, and took a second to catch her breath. She heard and felt the Priest emerge behind her, and she turned to face him again. 

“I feel like I could hug you, but, that might be a little…” she laughed awkwardly. 

Instead, he held out his hand, wrinkly yet firm for her to shake. “Time is of the essence, child,” he directed, looking down his nose again through his thin wire glasses. “Go, seek your peace.”

She gave him a genuine smile and released his handshake, rushing toward the doors with one thing in mind- absolution, and the feeling of Jake’s lips finally returning to hers. 

—--

“What’s this?” Jake asked as he let her heavy front door fall closed gently behind him. They were the first words that escaped his lips when he finally pushed his way through her front door that next morning, his hair still damp from the icy rain outside.

His eyes trained and his finger pointed to the envelope and letter placed meticulously on the floor in front of him, before he glanced back up to her, sitting sweetly on her newly-vacuumed couch. 

“It’s for you,” she muttered, clearing her throat of its nerves. “It’s… everything…” 

Jake’s brow furrowed as he hung his soaking wet coat on the back of a chair and bent down, taking the stark white paper in his hands.

“To: The one I’ve sinned against…” he read quietly. “Is this from you?” 

“It is,” she shuddered through a breath, standing up to meet him. “It’s everything I needed to say, everything that I needed to admit to… everything is, there…” 

His hollow eyes fluttered up to meet hers, now full of a little more life than they had just a few days ago. She looked rested, she looked alert. Even more so, she looked peaceful. 

“Just read it, Jake, and… then you can decide. If you want to put your coat back on, or leave it hanging there,” she said, resting her hand on the center of his chest again, gently scratching her fingernails into the fabric of his shirt. “Either way, whatever you decide, I will be okay with. But, please, just don’t let my demons scare you away. I learned a lot since you’ve been gone… and I think… I think I’m ready to change. Hang it all up, y’know.”

She heard a forced breath flow through Jake’s nose as she watched his nostrils flare, and he gripped the note in his hand even more tightly. 

She sauntered off to another part of the house to give him privacy to read, hoping and praying that she wouldn’t hear the sound of his arms slipping back through his coat, and the door slamming behind him, yet again. 

—--

It’s twenty minutes or more before she hears him shuffling into the bedroom, his fingertips knocking lightly on the doorframe. Her chest bursts with emotion as she raises her head from it’s place in her hands, downtrodden and sick with worry that he was going to see himself out in her absence. 

But to her surprise, his presence is suddenly breaking its way into her room, bright yet brooding as she feels his energy close to her again. 

“Can I come in?” he asks through a whisper. 

“Sure, yeah,” she replies, moving a pillow from beside her so that he can sit. 

He inhales a deep breath as he looks around her room, a room that is covered so heavily in everything her… her posters, her music, her photos… the burnt-orange scarf that lived over the lamp in the corner, dulling the bright light she just couldn’t handle. Her multitude of candles burned, along with the scent of dragon’s blood incense that she kept at an almost constant. He breathed it in, taking note of the flashbacks that littered his mind of all the fornication that has happened on this bed, all the love that he thought they were making. Enveloped by it all, all so effortlessly and authentically her. 

He sat down beside her, feeling the tensity of the air between them. 

“I read it all,” he breathed. “Every sentence. Twice.” 

“You read it twice? Jake, that had to of been fifteen pages of me just–”

“I don’t care. I wanted to absorb it all. I wanted to remember each sentence,” he cut her off. 

The two of them sat in silence for a minute or two before Jake found the courage to speak. 

“You’ve really been through it, haven’t you?” he asked, wringing his hands together between his knees. 

Her eyes cast down to the floor as she blinked. “Yeah, you could say that.” At the last second, she decided to add into the letter every instance in her life that she didn’t disclose with the Priest… instances in which she thought she could use some type of punishment. She gave details, she admitted everything. She left nothing to question, and wrote her letter in such a way that Jake could find no excuses for her. 

“Everything in there was true, everything was honest?” he asked, turning to her again. 

She exhaled, terrified of what was to come next, shaking with fear that he may see her as even less than he did before. “Yes. All of it. Cross my heart…” 

It was quiet again for a beat before she turned, taking his hands in hers. “Jake, I know that I am no cup of tea. I’m not a ray of sunshine, and I’m damn sure not wife material. I don’t know how to be an adult, and I bring more sadness to any situation than I can ever bring happiness. I’m messy, I’m stoic, and I can’t cook for shit… But, you– you have uncovered a side of me that I had no idea existed. You took me and shook me out, caring for the parts of me that needed to die a long, long time ago. I still don’t know why, and for the life of me, I don’t know how, but you found the good in me… You found it before anybody else on this earth did. Before even I did, and for me to treat you the way that I did, the way that I have… you don’t deserve that. I should be thanking you, I should be bowing at your feet for even having considered that I could be someone that you share yourself with…” Her words were traveling faster than she could think them, and now, as she stared into his deep honey brown eyes, she almost regretted writing the letter. She could have just said it all herself. 

“You’ve instilled something in me, recharged a battery that I didn’t know was dead. I still don’t know why but you raised me from whatever ashes I was in, and you knocked enough sense into me to make me stand up for myself, for us…”

She watched as his hands began to hold hers back, his hardened expression slowly softening.

“Us…” he muttered questioningly, his voice sounding like it was a hundred miles away. 

She was surprised. “If… if you still wanna consider me…as such…” she complied, hoping that she wasn’t chasing him away again. 

He let go of her hands as he stood from the bed, running his fingers through his long, tangled hair. She watched as he paced, his sock-covered feet slowly stepping across her wood floors. 

“You know I should just turn around and walk right out of here…” he finally said, his voice raised. “I should just say fuck it, after the way you treated me…”

“You should…and, if you do, I don’t blame you, Jake—“

“I didn’t deserve that shit, I deserved better than that…” His eyes pierced at her from their corners, sending a cold chill down her spine. He was growling, his chest heaving as his demeanor turned darker than she’d ever seen it before. “I deserve someone who is going to make me whole…”

She nodded, those same tears she let fall in the confessional yesterday finding her eyes again. “You do, you do…”

His jaw clenched as she saw his fists ball up at his sides, and she knew that whatever emotion he was feeling was either going to overtake him, or he would push it away. There was going to be no in between. Her chest tightened with anxiousness. 

Suddenly his body was slowly lurching over hers, his wide shoulders closing in around her. His face became impossibly close, his breathing heavy and slow. His entire aura felt wicked, so unlike his normal sticky-sweet self. His eyes were hooded…dark and heavy as he forced her body backward without even touching her. A polar-opposite magnet, invisibly charged and making every muscle in her body succumb to the way his energy was bending her. 

“Tell me you will never hurt me again… tell me you want me for everything I have to give you…” he muttered, trying his best to convince her. 

“I—I’m ready to change, Jake… I know I have to if I want to keep you..”

“Keep me,” he repeated through a whisper, his mouth so close to hers now. She felt his fists rest on either side of her on the mattress, his body weight still towering over her. 

“Yes,” she nodded, her neck lurching up to meet his gaze. “I want you, I’ve always wanted you… I was just—“

“Foolish. Selfish, afraid to love me back,” he tested, his tone dropping down a notch into the voice he used when she’d tempt him in nothing but her nightgown. 

“All those things, yes…” she agreed, feeling herself becoming breathless. “But I’m turning over a new leaf, I don’t want you… to leave me again.”

It wasn’t often that he was the one to get her flustered; normally she held the reigns in every aspect of their sex life. But on occasion, and very rarely, she would allow him to show a little dominance. It was just her expertise, being in charge and making sure she got what she wanted, every single time. Did he love every second of it? Fuck yeah, but sometimes, he prayed for the day when she would allow him to turn her into a panting mess, speechless and tangled in the sheets. 

She felt him lurch toward her again, just the sound of her words making him soften, wanting her even more. 

His jaw stiffened. “You really hurt me, baby. Tellin’ me you never loved me, never cared for me the way I do for you…” Jake went on, finally letting his nose drift across her cheek. Just the simple touch had her muscles tensing and her breathing hitched… even through the somewhat heavy conversation, she still felt the draw to him. “Shot through my heart…”

Her hand finally reached up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him just a little closer. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry,” she huffed. She could go another million years without hearing him say that she was the reason he was feeling pain. Three days ago, she wouldn’t have cared. 

But now…

“The last thing I wanna do is hurt you,” she admitted. “Ever again, I swear it.”

“Mmm…” Jake growled, bringing his knee up to rest on the mattress between her legs. “I like hearing you talk to me like this…makes me feel like you might actually like me after all.” His knee pressed further as he lurched again, landing directly on her core. 

‘God,’ she thought to herself, ‘if he only knew…’

His hands finally raised up and landed on her thighs, his palms working with his fingertips to massage her muscle. She could smell his cologne as his proximity grew closer, the scent of it making her head spin with familiarity. Fuck, he is hers. No one else’s… She could barely fathom the thought of another woman breathing him in, touching him, feeling his mouth traveling all over her body…

“I do actually like you, asshole. I like you a lot, don’t make me—“

“Ohhhhh I’m gonna make you say it, baby. You can count on that,” Jake jested, his lips finally landing on her ear. 

She couldn’t even stop it, the tiniest whimper left her lips as she finally felt him make contact. Barely even touched, and she felt as though she could already fall apart at the seams. Her belly was already a fiery mess of intense yearning for him, wanting him more now than ever. She’d never admit it to him, but he was the best fuck she had ever had. Ever. Her stone walls kept her from showing him that, though, never once letting him think he had her wrapped. 

But fuck, his hands… his mouth…

Suddenly her back was on the bed, rushed and forced as Jake’s haughty exterior began to shine through. 

“Make that noise for me again,” he ordered, his hand finally trailing up underneath her shirt, tickling away at her skin. 

Her eyes rolled just a tad as she was not used to being on this side of things, but… give and take; she had to relearn it all. A new mindset was necessary, if it meant keeping Jake all to herself, and never letting him slip through her fingers again. 

“Ahhh, ssss,” she gasped as Jake maneuvered himself to lap away at her stomach and sides. His tongue was as hot as flames, licking her skin and turning her on even more. 

His teeth raked along the hem of her sweatpants as her hands wrapped up in his hair, more or less guiding his movements. 

“Fuckin’ control freak,” he said. “Are you ever just gonna let me take care of you?” 

She pulled on his strands extra hard, reminding him that she is still in there somewhere, deep down. “Don’t make me regret my decision to let my guard down, now, Jacob,” she warned, earning a chuckle from him. 

He stepped back from the bed and slipped his fingertips in her waistline, arching an eyebrow as he bit his lips between his teeth. 

She nodded, giving him the go ahead. He removed her sweats and her underwear slowly, taking in the sight of her naked lower half. For some reason she felt exposed, but in a good way, almost as if she was finally finding the courage to not only bear her body to him, but her soul, too. 

Already mourning the loss of his mouth on her, her body began writhing for his touch again all on its own. Truly, she’d never felt at ease enough to let herself react this way, completely and totally on instinct. 

“You really are fuckin’ beautiful, baby…” he said matter-of-factly. She was used to his praises, but she never took them to heart. She always just thought he was rambling, filling the empty spaces between her moans with any words he could find. “So pretty…”

“Thank you, Jake,” she whispered as his hands found her hips, slowly pulling her down to the edge of the bed. For some reason, she finally heard- and took notice of- the sincerity in his voice. Finally, she believed his compliments to be true. 

He knelt down, and pulled his brown locks into a messy knot at the base of his neck, the visual already making her want to scream. Her legs parted on their own, her body already relishing in the fact that he is still here, he’s here for her. 

“Never get tired of this sight,” he grumbled as he licked his thumb, instantly connecting it to her heat. He began immediate circles, slow and calculated, directly onto her clit. 

Her head flew back into the mess of comforter, her body already stiffening as she felt a singular intense ripple of pleasure roll through her. 

“…Or that sight…” he went on, removing his thumb to be replaced with his tongue. 

“Goddamnit, Ja—“ she breathed, her hands finding his hair, pulling his mouth even further onto her. 

“Taste so damn good baby… so sweet…” he cooed as his tongue gently drifted over her most sensitive spots, each one more euphoric than the last. “Don’t know why, though… as bitter as you always fuckin’ are…”

His words shocked her; he’s never been this vocal during anything intimate, let alone this snarky. 

Her head raised to meet his eyes. “It’s just the way that I am, Jake. Sweetness has never been my forte,” she breathed. He reached up and grabbed her hands, interlocking his fingers with hers. 

“I like you bad, I like you bitter…” he agreed, pressing his face into her, sucking harshly at her as he meticulously rolled and flicked his tongue. 

She was right. Just like his coffee. 

“You’re fuckin’ devious, baby. You terrify me,” he went on, stopping for a breath as her stomach began caving in on itself, the pleasure nearly blinding her. She let go of his hair and covered her mouth, stopping the cries that were daring to fall from her lips as she held on for dear life, ravishing in every single second of this. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way… love you just like this…”

“I could afford to treat you a little better though, don’t you think?” she managed. 

She felt his lips purse up into a half-grin as he paused his movements for a split second before nodding. “Mhm, maybe a little…”

“You deserve…fuck…you deserve to be treated right. And I was always too swept up in my own battle with life to live with you in yours…”

“That’s all I ever wanted, babe…” he hummed as he continued on, his hands now massaging at her ass and hips, guiding her in the right directions as she gasped for every breath she took. “Let go for me…?”

As much as she wanted to let herself fall apart at his mercy, as close as she was to leaping off the edge, she stopped herself, pushing away her ravenous thoughts and reshifting them to focus on him. After all she had put him through, after all this time of not showing him the affection that he deserved, now is the time. She owes him the world. 

She pushed his face away, sitting herself up and stripping her t-shirt over her head. He stood back with a questioning look, the shine of her wetness still coating his face in the dim red-orange light. She gripped his belt buckle, undoing it harshly as he stood there landlocked between the bed and the dresser. “Wha—what are you doing, baby?” he asked, his hands flying up to his sides as he let her work his belt. 

“This is about you…it’s my turn to take care of you…in all the ways you always wanted me to…” she replied, pulling the denim of his pants down over his hips. 

“But I told you I wanted to take care of y—“

“You do. You always do,” she replied, next ripping his still-damp t-shirt over his head. She gripped onto his waist, pulling him down onto the mattress beside her. She took note of the grin that was fighting its way to his lips. “But right now, I want you to tell me what you’ve always wanted from me…tell me what you want me to do, what you want to feel…”

She watched as his facial expression switched from confusion to pure awe as she straddled his waist, both of them fully unclothed, now as she balanced her hands on his chest. ‘God, he is so fucking beautiful…’ she thought to herself. How she could ever deny him total happiness is a sin in itself, a sin that now, she is ready to repent for.

“Go ahead, don’t be shy,” she said, starting to roll her hips a little over his growing length. 

“Uh, well um…” he licked his lips and opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. 

She leaned down and placed her lips to his neck, working her tongue up to his ear. She felt his hips buck up into her at the contact. “Tell me, baby. I wanna love you right…”

His hands gripped her hips again as she could tell he was becoming hungry for her. 

She felt his right hand come up and grip into her hair, pulling her face to the side to whisper into her ear. “I want you to get yourself wet on me,” he growled. 

Fuck. Exactly what she wanted to hear. 

“I can do that,” she agreed, maneuvering herself to sit on top of him, grinding him against her folds. She felt his tip brush over her, her clit already overstimulated from his mouth on her, earlier. She swayed her hips, letting him travel through her without entering her at all. 

“Like that?” she asked, feeling herself dripping all over him. 

His eyes squeezed shut as he bit his bottom lip in. “Mmmh, yeah, just like that,” he said, his jaw clenching over and over. 

She remained this way for another minute or so, listening to the sounds of their bodies meshing together through short breaths and hollow groans. 

“What next, baby… what else?” she pressed. She glanced down at him noticing his brow furrowed in, scowling hard as he watched where their bodies made contact. So incredibly feral for her, and her for him… she wondered why she had wasted so much time relishing in herself, rather than him. 

He shook his head, finally making eye contact. “Nothing… nothing else… just want you to be here with me. No bells and whistles,” he panted, his hips still jutting as she continued to grind. “Just you…”

“I’m here, baby…” she agreed, letting her forehead fall onto his. His hand came up to brush the hair sticking to her forehead back so he could see her eyes. Her body felt like it was floating ten feet above the bed, so high on everything that was him, intoxicated by his presence alone. 

She reached down between them and gripped him in her hand, giving him a few slow and languid strokes. His body reacted in the best way, jerking and thrusting into her hand as he let the most beautiful and pitiful cries fall from his lips. It spurred her on, watching him already falling apart for her. 

“Please, baby…” he begged, his voice full of a lustful tenor that she memorized and shelved as quickly as she could. “Fuck, please…” 

Without a second thought, she lined herself up, letting her wetness cover his tip. She couldn’t lie, her body was vibrating with anticipation; something about this whole exchange already felt different. Lighter and heavier at the same time, feathers mixed with cannonballs. As she sank down on him all the way to the hilt, a switch flipped inside her brain, making her feel as though her body would not survive another second without him, her soul incomplete without him being the other half of her. 

“Motherfucker, baby….shhhhhhit…” Jake growled, steadying himself deep inside her for a few seconds as he took in the sensation. His chopped exhale ended with a harsh blow of his breath, his movements and his sounds muffled in her mind as she became dizzier and dizzier from the pure pleasure. It took her all of ten seconds to gather herself, remembering that sex requires movement, though she would be perfectly content just letting him rest inside her for the rest of eternity. 

She finally lifted up on her hands and began rocking back and forth on him, taking in every sight and sound that came along with it all. Her fingernails dug into his chest as she swirled her hips, alternating between slow grinds and harsh thrusts, all of it sending Jake into another world entirely. 

She’d never felt a pleasure this intense before, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that each and every time with Jake was different. Never once did they fuck in the same way. He kept her guessing, always on her toes in his choices, even though she was the one who normally ran the show. Now, thinking back, it was endearing. Whether or not she knew that he was trying to be suspenseful, or that he really was just a natural in bed didn’t matter— she knew now that all the times she left another man’s bedroom while Jake was waiting for her at home was all for nothing. 

No one would ever compare to him. No one had ever even come close. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” he asked, licking his lips as his hands began to control her rolling hips. 

“Nothing,” she breathed. “Just… I don’t think you understand how sorry I am, for everything. All the times I stepped out on you…and…you’re still here, you’re—“ She could hardly finish her sentence. “I wanna cry just thinking about it. I was awful to you, and you’re perfect. You’re—“

Like he could hear her thoughts, and just as she was about to let another wave of satisfaction roll through her, he brought his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her gently to meet his lips. He kissed her hard, rolling his tongue against hers as his fingers wrapped themselves in her hair. Sometimes, when he kissed her, she would feel a pang of something deep in her gut, a feeling that was fleeting before it left her altogether. She could never harness it, and had no idea what it was… but she chased it, becoming addicted to the hunt of finding it again. 

But this time, it came, and it stayed. That wrenching feeling that she felt so often with him, taking up shop in her subconscious for more than those normal three seconds. 

It felt like a surge of electricity, a sensation that she’d never be able to duplicate with any substance on earth. His lips glided and his hands squeezed, making her feel safer than she ever had. Her brain became fuzzy with want… something stronger than want… stronger than need. 

Suddenly, the frayed string that held her to Jake felt like coiled wire, strong enough to span mountains, and tough enough to withstand any weather it may encounter. No longer did her mind feel the need to stray as he fucked back into her, no longer did she feel the need to push him away when he’d express himself to her. She wanted to feel it… know it, lock it up inside herself and throw away the key. 

She wanted all of him, every last atom and cell. She wanted to belong to him. She wanted to reciprocate. 

“I almost left you, so many times…” he breathed, pulling back and landing his head down on the pillow. “Almost said fuck it, she doesn’t need me, she doesn’t want me… something inside me told me to stay. As idiotic as that sounds.”

“You were idiotic. Completely stupid for staying with me,” she said through a grin. 

“I never asked you to be mine, though. I had no way of justifying the fact that I couldn’t blame you for stepping out. You weren’t really mine, anyway,” he argued, and he was right. Though they spent nearly every waking moment together for those six months, they never made anything official. They never made any promises. 

“I was always fucking yours, Jake,” she gritted, pulling off of him to lie down on her back. Her hands dug into his sides and pulled him to lie on top of her. 

His knee kicked her legs apart and he wasted no time in entering her again, unwilling to separate for more than a second. He pressed particularly harshly into her, jutting himself so far in that she felt a slight pain. “How can I believe you, now? How can I know this is for real?” 

She cried out at the mix of pain and pleasure, her mind blurred at the feeling of him so deep inside her. She needed more. “Agh, fuck, please keep going,” she begged, her eyes knit shut. “You’ve just gotta trust me, baby. Trust me…” she breathed, letting her eyes clear and stare deeply back into his, letting him know she was serious. “Everything is gonna change, now. M’not fucking this up…”

“Tell me you swear,” he begged as his thrusts became more pointed, eliciting repetitive high-pitched squeals from her. He stretched her as far as she could go, the sounds of their bodies slapping together reverberating off the walls and shaking the bedframe. “I’m not gonna waste any more of my time if you truly don’t want me here…”

Her hands reached behind her and gripped the sheets as she held on for dear life, letting Jake take her, have her, wholly and completely. 

“I fucking swear,” she promised, grabbing his jaw and lips in her hand, squeezing. “Just you… me and you…” She pulled him down to kiss her again, still craving that guttural feeling. And thankfully, it found her again. 

She basked in it as her release came full force at her- bright white and vibrating every inch of her body. She cried out as she let it overcome her, letting herself feel everything for the very first time. 

Jake wasn’t far behind her. “Fuck, god, fuck…” he groaned, gasping and clenching through his own climax as the ripples flowed through both of them like harsh storm winds. His arms had enveloped her, his head rested on her shoulder and buried into her neck as they both tried catching their breath, a warmth already shrouding them in the sweetest protection they could ever imagine. 

They both laid just like that for as long as the day let them, exhausted and content with the fact that they had found their way around their biggest roadblock, yet. 

Courage found her like a magnet to metal as she felt a surge of confidence overtake her. “Jake, baby, did we just make love?” 

He lifted his head from her shoulder, letting the prettiest laugh escape from his chest. “Uh, you tell me…”

She took a breath. “I don’t know… I’ve never— But that felt…”

“Fucking perfect?”

“Yeah… more than perfect…” she admitted honestly, unable to find the words to describe what she was feeling. 

The chemicals in her brain had finally mixed in a way that didn’t feel like poison. The switch that flipped had decided to stay on, not even giving her a choice in the matter to decide to turn it back off. The emotion that was taking up space within her felt more addictive than any substance she’d ever done— love, finally, her new drug of choice. 

It just took an admission for the ages to a stranger of a Priest for her to feel it. 

“Then maybe we did…” Jake agreed, rolling off of her. “Time will tell.”

She propped up on her elbow to look at him as he lied there beside her, hot and exhausted as he finally found his breath. 

“Can you teach me how to love, Jake?” she asked, feeling small. 

He gave her a look that melted her all over again as he picked up her hand, bringing each of her fingers to his lips and kissing them one by one. 

“That’s not something that’s taught, baby. But I think you’re selling yourself short…”

“Really?”

“Mhm. You’re the most intensely vivacious and unapologetic woman I have ever met in my life. You take no shit, and you’re smarter than you think. Your perception of the world is unlike anybody else’s, like I’d kill to see the world through your eyes, sometimes. You’re passionate as fuck, just not in the ways that most people think is conventional. You always stick up for the little guy, defend people who can’t defend themselves. You’re hot-blooded and confident, sexy as fuck… you could be a millionaire on OnlyFans in like a week, tops…”

“Shut the fuck up,” she laughed, brushing her hand across his chest. 

“M’serious,” he went on. “You think you’re this downtrodden and forlorn soul destined for the pits of hell, putting up walls and shutting people out, but. I think you just do that because you know your worth, even if you think that worth is less than dirt. You know that your spirit isn’t just for everybody… but damned if I’m not glad you’ve agreed to share it with me.”

Her eyes glared back into his as she fought to understand how, and why Jake is still here, still hanging on, still being the best. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” she questioned with a whisper. 

“I dunno, baby. Guess we gotta keep proving we deserve each other. You’ve toughened me up more than you realize. Made me want to cut my own bullshit and get real,” Jake said. “Taught me that I have to stand up for what I want.”

“I taught you that?”

“In a roundabout way, yeah,” he said, rubbing his fingers over his mustache. “I wanted you, I wanted you so badly that I stuck around until you decided you wanted me back, yeah?” he smiled. 

“Yeah… I suppose you did.”

“I have a question, though… you said that what made all this happen is that you went to… a Church? What in god’s name made you do that?”

She laughed at the irony of his sentence. “I guess exactly that.” She got up and sat cross-legged on the bed, hugging a pillow into her chest. “I think… I think humans can only survive so long without feeling a way they know they should feel. I knew deep down that I had sins to own up to, and one capital sin, at that. I couldn’t talk to just anyone about that, ya know? Didn’t want to admit all that to you, just yet. So I thought, hey, maybe God would like to hear from me? It couldn’t hurt my case, only help it, I guess. Who better to confess everything I had bottled up inside me, than to “the only one who can truly forgive me”?” She placed air quotes around the words, repeating back what society had taught her. She bit her lip in, thinking back on the whole experience. “I guess in the end just saying all those things out loud to someone who wouldn’t pass judgment onto me was exactly what I needed. Just to admit them to myself. I was about to crack…”

He nodded, placing his arm behind his head. “I can definitely understand that.”

“I hope it worked… I swear on my life I already feel a little more whole, a little less worthless,” she admitted. 

Jake’s thumb reached to brush across her lips. “You were never fucking worthless, baby. Never. You were worth everything in the world, are worth it.”

She shook her head as she looked away, the image of that baby’s face still so prevalent in her mind. He haunted her every second, and though she was coming to realize that that whole ordeal all those years ago may not have been entirely her fault, it was still going to resonate with her for the rest of her life. No amount of admittance or repenting was ever going to take that away. 

“You know, that baby that I mentioned in the letter… the one that I took care of before everything went to hell…?” she asked, her voice quiet. 

“Yeah, your capital sin…”

She took a breath. “You know his name was Jacob…”

Jake’s eyes grew ten times in size, his jaw falling slack in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not kidding you. Hell of a coincidence, huh?”

“Wow, I’ll fuckin’ say… I–I am so sorry that happened, baby,” Jake relented as he cupped her cheek in his hand. “Truly, I know you wish that things would have gone differently. I’m sure you think about him every day.” 

“Every second.”

Jake took in a breath. “Is there anywhere we can… go visit him? So you can talk to him?”

She softened at his sweet suggestion, gently shaking her head side to side. “No. I wouldn’t even know where to look… where they even buried him. I was hundreds of miles away from here…”

“Well maybe we can look him up. That should be public record, yeah?”

She considered it, while also considering Jake’s selfless proposal. “Maybe so… yeah, that might actually be nice.”

Jake leaned forward and placed a kiss to her knee. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

“You can forgive me, Jake?”

“As long as you stop condemning yourself. Right this minute. We’re gonna work on this together, you have got to realize your self-worth, baby.”

“You’ll be here to help me realize it?”

“Every second of the way,” he promised. 

She rolled to sit on top of him again, his hands landing on her thighs. She admired the way his hair flowed in messy strands over her pillow, the way his skin still glistened with sweat. In that second, she knew she had never seen anything more beautiful. More striking, and more positively hers. 

“I’m ready to love you, Jake. I swear to god I’m going to spend every second making you the happiest man on earth, making up for lost time. Proving to you I’m sorry, that you’re worth it all…” she promised, tears threatening her again with the overload of new emotions. But she welcomed them. 

“Don’t cry, gorgeous. S’all gonna be okay…”

——

“Are you sure you want me to come with you? I mean… this feels a little bit strange,” Jake perked as he tossed his cigarette butt into the sand-filled ashtray on the street. 

She took Jake’s hand as she pulled him up the steps of the Church, the sun already brightly shining as it hit high-noon. The church bells of the city all tolled, signaling the new hour, and letting her know that Father James would be pacing around the pews, refilling bulletins and straightening hymnals. 

“Yes, come on… I really want you to meet him,” she urged, pulling his hand even harder. 

“Baby, I don’t go to Church anymore, I don’t believe in this kind of stuff…” he argued. 

“Neither do I. But that’s not to say that it doesn’t exist, hm?” she pressed, arching her eyebrows as they landed on the top step. “Just because we don’t choose to believe and be faithful doesn’t mean we can’t find comfort in some of the things it has to offer…I wouldn’t be where I am if I hadn’t come in here that day and talked to Father James… confessed everything to him… Took all his advice…”

“I know, I know, but… what if he tries to— I dunno. Convert us, or whatever?” 

She laughed out loud. “He’s not gonna do that, Jake. I promise. We just enjoy talking with one another. He’s a wise man, normal. Just like you and me. He’s been at the bottom, too. I promise, you won’t regret walking in here…”

“Fuck, okay. Just for you.”

She blossomed as she realized she’d talked him into it, her face blushing with satisfaction. “I love you, Jake… you know that, right?”

His long exhale drifted away with the Spring breeze as he realized he’d literally do anything for her. Anything in the world. “Yeah, baby. I know that.”

“Good.” 

She pushed open the heavy double doors and made her way inside, her hand acknowledging the holy water that sat beside the entrance, but knowing her place enough to not touch it. The devil still sat on her shoulder, though these days, she’d learned to keep that son of a bitch in check. 

Jake watched as she glided inside, her fingers still wrapped with his. As his eyes adjusted from the sunlight, he took notice of the bright hues of light washed across the room, the sun casting vibrant beams and dim shadows on everything that it touched. 

“Father James! Hello!” Jake heard her voice as they approached an elderly man clothed in all black. 

“Welcome, welcome!” he heard him say. 

“Father, I want you to meet someone… this is—“

“Jacob.” 

The Priest extended his hand to Jake, giving him a smile that felt more genuine than he ever could have imagined. He took his hand in his grasp, knowing that he owed this man the grandest of thank you’s, for helping his love to find her way. 

“Of course, son. I’ve heard so much about you…”

“All good things, I hope?” Jake laughed awkwardly. 

The Priest looked directly at her with endearment painted on his features, his eyes thinning to slits as he smiled from ear to hear. 

“Wonderful things.”

Taglist: @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj @dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @gretavangroupie @moonlightisdancing @jakeyt @joshym

[riddlesrizzler]

𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙚

𝘱𝘵. 3 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘊𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘊𝘶𝘱

summary: A brief encounter sparks something Mattheo didn't anticipate.

characters: ceo! mattheo. teacher! reader

warnings: none

word count: 1.3K

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mattheo Riddle was a creature of habit. His life was built on structure- strategic moves, calculated risks, and an ironclad routine that ensured he remained in control at all times.

Every Saturday morning, without fail, he ran the same five-mile route through the city. He liked the way the early hours felt before the world fully woke up, the rhythmic pounding of his feet against the pavement drowning out the constant noise in his head. It was the one time in his day that did not demand a cutthroat decision or a ruthless negotiation.

But this Saturday was different.

Because as he rounded the corner near the end of his run, something shifted in the air- something unspoken, something electric. And then as if the universe itself had orchestrated the moment, he saw her.

Y/N

She had stepped out of the coffee shop, the same one he had haunted for an entire week just to catch a glimpse of her. But this time, she wasn't in a galaxy covered dress or a coffee stained sweater.

No, today, she looked... softer.

She was wearing light wash overalls, the straps loose over her shoulders, layered over a delicate white eyelet top. Her hair was loosely pulled back, a few strands of hair effortlessly slipped to frame her face like it was intentional. In one hand, she held a coffee cup- probably something sweet, he imagined- and in the other, a small bouquet of flowers, a mix of wild daises and soft pink roses.

Mattheo swore under his breath as his pace instinctively slowed.

This was not part of his plan.

But Mattheo Riddle was nothing if not adaptable.

So when she turned and nearly walked straight into him, it was almost too easy to let it happen.

"Oh-" she gasped, her coffee sloshing dangerously near the rim. "Wow, we really have a habit of running into each other, huh?"

Mattheo smirked, shifting his weight as he took a slow step back, giving her space he wasn't sure he wanted to give. "Maybe you should start watching where you're going."

She smiled, something along the lines of amusement as her eyes twinkled in the sunlight. "I think you are the common denominator here, Riddle."

He nearly flinched at how easily she said his name, like it wasn't something to be feared. Like he was just some guy she happended to see at a coffee shop and not the CEO of a multi-million-dollar company.

Intriguing.

His gaze flickered to the colorful flowers in her hand. "Those from a secret admirer?"

She glanced down at them, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, these? I got them from the farmers market downtown for my classroom."

Right. She was a teacher. The thought still sat strangely in his mind. She seemed too... radiant for such a thankless job.

She lifted the bouquet slightly, as if explaining her actions. "I try to keep fresh flowers on my desk for my students. They get so excited about the little things, and I like to make the room feel welcoming, we're like a family after all."

Mattheo couldn't quite pinpoint why, but something about that sent a tight pull through his chest. He barely noticed when his hand flexed at his side, as if itching to reach for something he wasn't allowed to have.

Instead, he shifted the conversation before it could settle too deeply. "And the coffee?"

She lifted it slightly, her smile turning playful. "Hazelnut latte. My Saturday tradition during the school year, it's like a reward."

Mattheo made a noise of disapproval. "Too sweet."

She gasped in mock offense. "excuse me, not all of us like our coffee tasting like tar."

Mattheo chuckled, shaking his head. "You haven't had good espresso, then."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "And I suppose you consider yourself an expert, Mr. spills-his-coffee-on-innocent-bystanders?"

"I don't settle for anything less than the best." The words came out without thought, smooth and precise like every other statement he made. But this time, there was something different lurking beneath them, something unspoken.

And by the way her lips parted slightly-barely-he knew she had caught onto it.

For a brief moment, the world around them faded. The street, the distant hum of cars, the early morning breeze. None of it existed. Just the two of them, standing close enough that he could catch the faintest trace of her vanilla perfume.

He should have walked away.

He should have nodded, said his goodbyes, and then continue on with his run.

But Mattheo Riddle never denied himself what he wanted.

So instead, he shifted forward slightly, tilting his head as he let his gaze drift over her face- slow, deliberate. "Give me your phone."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

His smirk deepended. "Your phone. Unless you plan on making me track you down every time I want to see you."

She blinked, clearly caught off guard by his directness. But then, to his complete and utter surprise, she laughed. Just like the one from yesterday that was soft and melodic, a sound that curled around his ribs and settled somewhere deep in his chest.

"You are seriously something else," she shook her head, her voice quiet with a hint of a smile. But then, to his satisfaction, she reached into the front pocket of her overalls, pulling out her phone and handing it to him.

Mattheo took it without hesitation, typing his number with quick precision before saving it under his name.

Just his name.

No titles, no formalities. Just Mattheo.

When he handed it back to her, their fingers brushed-brief, fleeting, but enough to send a jolt of something sharp through his skin.

She glanced down at the screen before looking back up at him. "So, what, you're planning on texting me coffee critiques now?"

He huffed a quiet laugh, stepping back just slightly, though the air between them remained charged. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll do something even worse."

She tilted her head, clearly intrigued, as her hair fell with her. "Like what?"

His smirk turned wicked, his eyes dark with promise. "Ask you out."

Her lips parted again, something that happened when she was caught off guard. Only, she didn't hide her reaction with laughter. Instead, she studied him- really studied him- like she was trying to figure out whether he was being serious.

He was.

He was more serious about this than he had been about anything in a very long time.

And then, a smile spread across her face. Not teasing, not guarded- just warm, just her. "Well," she mused, taking a small sip of her latte, "I suppose that would be terrible."

Mattheo's jaw ticked, a sharp sense of satisfaction circling through him. "Tomorrow night."

It wasn't a question.

Y/N raised a brow with a grin. "You're very confident in yourself, huh?"

He returned the grin. "Always."

She rolled her eyes playfully but didn;t argue. Instead she simply nodded, stepping back towards the sidewalk. "Alright, Mr. Riddle. Tomorrow night."

And then, just like that, she turned and walked away, her flowers swaying slightly in her grasp.

Mattheo watched her go, his pulse steady but hi smind anything but.

Because, for the first time in a very long time, something felt unexpected.

And he couldn't wait to see where it led.

ok so i’m officially obsessed with ceo! matty and teacher! reader.

[miryum]

Pirate Captain!James Potter x Princess!Reader ANGST ending (pt 1, pt 1.5, pt 2)

You sat in the rowboat, hands pressed along the wood. James sat across from you, muscles straining as he rowed the oars towards shore. You had asked for him not to be the one to take you back, worried he would get jailed and executed the moment he stepped foot on land. But he had insisted. “What man would I be if I didn’t stay with my beloved until the end?” The words had been like a knife to your heart. 

"I am sorry," you managed out. "You understand why I can't, right, James? Please understand."

"I understand," he replied. He wouldn't look at you, instead focusing his stare to the side to watch for the shoreline. Land was only less than half a mile.

You pressed your lips together to try and keep from crying. Why were you so emotional about this? You had only known the man for less than a month and he had kidnapped you. You would not fall victim to the tales of captors wooing maidens.

His voice broke the silence of the waves lapping against the sides of the rowboat. "I know that material possessions, safety, and your duty come into play with your decision. I respect that, Princess, and I admire you for that. I guess I lead with my heart more than my head."

"Leading with your heart isn't bad," you assured him softly. "I wish I could do that more often. But I can't, James."

He swallowed thickly. "I know."

You stayed in silence until the boat pulled up next to the dock. James was quick to stand and begin tying up the rowboat, crouching down on the dock and gripping the rope in his hands. His thighs pressed against his breeches and you could see the little calluses on his palms. You could see now why he was the pirate captain. He was skilled in many things and your demeanor softened. As you sat in the rowboat, hands clasped politely in your lap as you were taught, you thought back to James' words.

“I truly am sorry,” James spoke into the night air. It was a bit cool and you were glad you had grabbed a shawl. The few lanterns on deck, coupled with the moon, were light enough. “Just say the word and I’ll turn this ship around. I… You can go back to your parents whenever you want, you know that, yes?”

“You’d be willing?” you asked quietly. “You claim you’re in love with me–” 

“I am,” he said with such certainty and quickness you thought you might get whiplash. He spun you around gracefully before tugging you back into his arms. You wondered where he learned to dance.

“You claim you’re in love with me,” you repeated. “So why would you be willing to let me go? Why not force me to stay with you?”

James looked down at you and you couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. There was a melancholy stare that also seemed pitiful. “Have you never loved someone?” You shook your head and he continued in a soft tone, “you would do anything for them. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness, you would do it. I don’t think you realise how far I’d go for you, Y/n.”

Some people had started to assemble as James finished up. The pirate ship looming on the horizon was definitely cause for notice and then when people began questioning why you looked like the missing princess, things began clicking. James didn't pay any mind to the growing crowd, instead glaring down at the ropes.

"James," you tried to get his attention quietly when someone ran off to alert some knights. He grunted in response and then, when he looked up at you, you saw tears in his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat and you made a little choked noise. "Nevermind," you whispered, not wanting to trouble him anymore than you already were.

James stood up and brushed off his pants to give him something to do. He then held out his hand for you to take. You were struck by the intensity of which his hazel eyes bored into yours. "One last chance," he offered softly.

All thoughts escaped you as you stared at his hand. It was the hand that had held you so tenderly while you two were dancing. It was the hand that guided yours to the wheel of his ship. It was the hand that had held your hair back when you got too sick on your first night on the ship and were too weak to push him away. It was the hand that held your hips tightly when he took you up to the crow's nest. He said it was to ensure you didn't fall, even though you were safe behind the wooden barrier that rose to your waist.

You could feel your subjects staring at you and their voices got louder as more and more people realised who you were. You could hear shouts from knights as they neared. Your eyes flicked back to James and even more desperation filled your veins. If only someone could tell you what to do. Either way, you knew you would regret something, but you didn't want to have to give up anything. "You're sure you can't come with me?" You didn't want to sound like you were begging, but it was hard. 

James shook his head. "You know I can't, darling."

"I know," you murmured. "I know." Both of you realised that even though he wanted to join you, he would be executed for his crimes of piracy and there was nothing you could do about it. And your parents would never allow any relationship to bloom between him and you. 

So you took his hand and stepped off the rowboat. Knights were quick to rush up and grab your arms, hurrying you away and ushering civilians back. You let out a short scream as the guards grabbed you, not prepared for the intrusion of space. And, after spending weeks at sea, you weren't used to solid ground. Your knees buckled and the knights' grip only tightening to try to keep you up.

"Hey!" James shouted, feet rooted to the dock. "Let her go!"

You craned your neck to try and see him, but even more guards were quick to surround him. "Stop!" you cried. "He rescued me! Stop it!" You jerked away from your knights and stamped your foot. You felt like a toddler, but you commanded, "I am your heir princess! Release him and let him go." Your voice wavered at the thought of letting James leave you, but you continued, "he did nothing wrong. Let him return to his ship." You were sure you looked like a disaster – you hadn't been able to properly wash your hair in weeks and the clothes you were wearing were not fit for a princess. Rumours would surely swirl around your kidnapping and sudden return, but the knights were still devoted to you and so they slowly stepped away from James.

The pirate held your gaze. “If you weren’t a princess,” he whispered, “would you have come with me?”

“I fear that if I say yes,” you replied softly, “it would hurt you more.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His eye bags that had grown ever since you had danced with him were wet and you couldn’t bear the knowledge that it was you who had made him cry. “Goodbye, my Princess,” he whispered. 

“Goodbye, James.” You saw him wince as he turned away, hands clenched into fists. You couldn’t watch as he got back into the boat and rowed away.

It was then that you realised the love of your life was gone. Maybe one day you would see him again, by some miracle or chance. Or maybe you could only visit his pirate ship in your memories. It would be best to forget the way he held you so tenderly and lovingly.

You forced yourself to turn away and walk back to your life as princess.

[ourceliumnetwork]

because i'm feeling chatty today but i know my sentences won't make lots of sense i don't know that the medicine i'm taking for the fibromyalgia is the best fit for me actually. i'm kind of thinking maybe the mental side effects aren't worth the pain relief lol.

[unintentionalseductress]

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[kashverse]

it started with a simple trip to the store. nanami had one goal: groceries. necessities. adult things. things that did not include stepping foot into the toy aisle, where capitalism lurked, waiting for fathers like him to make poor financial decisions. but then, there was yuuji. yuuji, who had stopped dead in his tiny tracks in front of the lego shelf, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in a soft gasp like he was witnessing true beauty. "papa." his little voice trembled with reverence. "they have… wobbots."

nanami made the grievous mistake of looking down at him. yuuji’s big, pleading eyes were practically shimmering, tiny hands clutching at his pant leg like he was a desperate protagonist in a drama. "papa," yuuji repeated, voice hushed as if he were revealing a grand prophecy. "i need it."

and nanami—tired, overworked, victim to puppy eyes and the relentless machine of consumerism—sighed and grabbed the box.

"papa, i lub you."

capitalism had won.

at first, things were fine. yuuji had never been so focused, hunched over the coffee table, tongue poking out as he assembled what was supposed to be a spaceship but slowly turned into an unholy amalgamation of a car, a dinosaur, and a mech suit with one wing. "it's a dinosaur spaceship with turbo boostahs," yuuji explained, proudly slamming a lego figure into the cockpit. nanami had nodded, sipping his coffee, unaware that his peaceful life was over. because soon, the legos were everywhere.

in the kitchen? yes. in his shoes? unfortunately. inside his mixing bowl while making brownies? horrifyingly, yes. nanami had blinked down at the little black lego head staring ominously from the batter.

"yuuji."

yuuji, standing at the counter with a suspiciously guilty look, gasped. "oh! batman in brownies! he is a surpwise."

"he is not a surprise, yuuji. he is a contamination."

yuuji giggled. “but now he's chocolate man.” nanami sighed deeply, fished out lego batman’s disembodied head, and handed it back. "batman does not belong in baked goods."

"okay, papa. but maybe next time, superman—"

"no."

but the worst was what was dubbed as “torture expressway.” it was yuuji’s pride and joy - a meticulously arranged, near-invisible minefield of loose legos, laid across the hallway with the precision of a military strategist. the first time you stepped on one, you nearly saw your life flash before your eyes. the second time, you did.

"mama!" yuuji gasped as you dramatically collapsed onto the couch. "you defeatyated my trap! you win da pwize!"

the prize was a singular lego brick.

nanami, from the kitchen, merely sighed. "you need to stop setting booby traps, yuuji."

"but it's a game, papa! i caw it…" he raised his little arms dramatically, "torture 'spressway!"

"accurate," you wheezed.

the final straw for nanami came when he got up at five in the morning, half-asleep, walked toward the bathroom… and stepped on something small and sharp. the sheer agony that shot up his foot nearly had him crumbling. he clutched the doorframe, inhaling sharply through his teeth as he whispered, voice tight with pain—

"… lego."

from his bedroom, yuuji sleepily called out, "you step on da fire bwock, papa?"

"yes, yuuji. i steppy on the fire block."

"dat means you gotta fight da boss now."

nanami closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and swore to himself that the next time they went shopping, he was buying a vacuum.

[suncoved]

OVERPROTECTIVE! — RAFE CAMERON (smut 18+, mdni.)

pairing; dealer!rafe cameron x toppersister!reader

summary: when your friend dragged you to the cut of one of the pouges infamous keggers, you didn't expect to be dragged home by your brothers dealer best friend.

warnings: kinda innocent!reader, talk of drugs, partying and drinking. smut 18+ only please please! (haven't proof read...)

"this is such a bad idea" you murmured quietly, glancing across at the boneyard from your friend kate's pristine white jeep.

"oh cmon, it'll be fun. and anyways, how could your brother find you all the way out here. he would rather die than set foot on the cut" kate rambled, yanking out of the car while her heels made a crunching sound against the gravel of the carpark.

on the ride over from figure eight, you had gnawed at your bottom lip so hard you wouldn't be surprised if you drew blood. topper would have actually killed you if he found out what you were doing.

you had been to parties on your side of the island before, and even those made your brother mad, but never had you stepped foot at a kegger on the cut.

but, here you were at 11:15 on a saturday night, about to 100 per cent regret every decision you had ever made that led to this. but it was your senior year! and you were sick and tired of letting topper dictate what you did and didn't do.

you had come to the realisation that you weren't really sure why topper cared so much about what you did. i mean sure he was your twin brother, who would never make you forget how he was in fact 2 minutes older, but he had never really cared what you did before.

i mean sure, you guys were close and he cared if you were safe or not, but it was only really until he became closer with his friend rafe that he started getting really, really overprotective.

rafe had been lurking around your house since you were little, always bossing topper around and annoying that absolute shit out of you. but never saying any more than one word to you before pulling topper into any mess he was about to get into.

"cmon cmon, lets go party!" kate exclaimed, pulling you out of your thoughts and also onto the soft sand of the boneyard.

it was safe to say that this party was far from the ones you had witnessed before. there were people do coke on any surface you could see, the distinct smell of weed filling your nostrils and kegs upon kegs lined up against the fallen branches.

"miss thorton! what brings you around my neck of the woods!?" you hear a voice yell behind you before an arm is slung quickly around your shoulder.

"shush jj! im undercover" you joke, pushing your perfecting manicured finger against your lips. "whoops! my bad princess" he slurred, swaying against your body as he pushed more and more of his weight onto you.

you giggled, swiftly setting him down on the sand before he made you topple over. "he'll be fine, just needs a little rest" john b beams to you, passing you a red solo cup full of suspicious liquid before you could decline.

you smiled at him and held the cup weighing heavily in your hand, noticing kate was long gone from your side. you looked around nervously, what were you doing?

you didn't drink, you didn't do drugs, you didn't party.

you were the classic good girl of kildare county, and your skirt was way to precious to you to get anything spilt on it. but you were here, so why don't you just enjoy yourself right?

you looked down at the liquid in the cup, it fizzing and foaming as it stared back at you. you took a cautionary sip before nearly gagging, the acid making its way down your throat.

"yuck!" you whispered to yourself, pulling a face as you rested the cup down on a branch so someone could pick it up later.

the music pumped in your ears, people dancing and swaying on the shore of the beach as the lights of the street only dimly lit the area up.

you heard your name being yelled behind you as kate embraced you in a hug, swaying and smelling of weed. "i have to introduce you to someone, apparently he sells the best weed on the island! why don't you try some! but shush let's not tell your brother" she slurred her words as she rambled on, pulling you across the sand into the crowd of people.

"you know kate, i don't think this is the best idea" you muttered, letting her guide you where the music was louder and the smell was far more intense.

"it will be fun! and we can tell him its your first time! i mean apparently, he is not a nice guy but you have a knack for changing that about people!" you rolled your eyes at her babble, your feet suddenly stopping once you had arrived at your apparent destination.

you were still hidden behind kate as she approached the man sitting on a broken branch, his legs spread wide and hands sifting through money.

"hey! my friend really wants to try your stuff, think you could help us out?" kate asked, pulling you out from behind her as a small gasp left your lips.

"y/n? what the fuck are you doing here!" rafe spat, gathering all his cash and baggies and stuffing them in his pocket. "you two know each other?"

you shifted your eyes from his angered face, jaw clenching and fists bunched tightly together.

"yeah, and you're an idiot for bringing her here. get the fuck outta my face. cmon" rafe gestured to you, taking your hand in his and leading you to the car park.

you looked back at kate before staring at rafe in front of you, unable to fight against his grip. you had been at this party all of 20 minutes and all you had done is be dragged around before having to go home!

"rafe stop!" you exclaimed as he pulled you up the beach and towards his blue truck in the car park.

how did you not notice that?

"what the heck are you doing?" you asked, him swinging the passenger door open for you as you stared at him like he was an idiot.

"get in." he said, running lifting his arms up to run his hands through his hair as you noticed a gun tucked into his waistband.

what in the actual fuck was happening?

"what! no way! since when do you deal drugs and carry guns? i don't even know who you are anymore and there is no way i'm getting into your car with you."

he rolled his eyes at you statement, putting his ringed hands against your waist and lifting you into his car effortlessly.

you huffed as he smiled at you sarcastically before closing the passenger door and jumping into the driver's side.

he looked at you expectingly as you stared at his face, his eyes a beautiful shade of blue and his lips pink. he rolled his eyes once again before reaching over and doing up your seat belt for you, his touch making goosebumps on your cleavage as he fastened it.

you sat in silence for a second before he started driving in the direction of figure eight, his large hands gripping tightly on the wheel.

"what were you actually fucking thinking? going to a party on the cut, who knows what could have happened to you if i wasn't there" rafe spat, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to look at you before turning his head back.

"what does it matter to you rafe, i just wanted to have fun and i don't regret it. so tell topper i don't care." you huffed, sinking into your seat, not even believing the words coming out of your own mouth.

"like topper would care anyways" he stated, clenching his jaw so hard you thought it would actually break. "what?"

"toppers not the one that cares." you looked at him dumbfounded, taken aback by his statement. "what do you mean rafe?"

he ignored your statement as he kept driving into the night, the uneasy silence resting heavily in the air. you tapped your fingers against the armrest, watching the trees blur into a haze of green before tannyhill came into view.

"i thought you were taking me home?" you asked, your question again going unanswered until the car came to a halt.

"you're staying at mine, get out." he huffed, walking around the car before swinging your door open and helping you down.

"why would i stay at yours? you're my twin brother's best friend. stop being an idiot rafe" you huffed, halting your movements and staying right out the front of his door.

"you're not the one to be calling shots" rafe said, once again pulling you by the hand up to his room. before you could think he sat you down softly on his bed, kneeling down to look you in the eyes as if to see if you were high or not.

"go away, i'm not high. and you do not have the moral high ground right now"

"shut up" he sighs, resting his large hands down on your bare thighs. "what?" you gasp, ready to smack his touch away the second you could bring yourself to do it.

"do you actually not know how much you drive me crazy?" rafe asks, his stare almost burning holes in your eyes as he looked at you. "i've had my eye on you since we were 3, making sure you never came to me asking for coke or weed, because you know what i would do if anything happened to you? i would go fucking insane."

"rafe..." you sighed, bringing your hand up to his warm cheeks and he leant into your touch. "no. no, don't say anything, i don't wanna hear it-"

he was cut off by your lips touching his, your hands lifting to feel his spiky buzz cut underneath your fingertips. he immediately starting kissing you back as if before this he had never taken a breath before, and you were his oxygen.

his searing touch made its way under your shirt and up to the bottom on your bra, running his hands up and down as he pushed you back so you lay on his soft sheets.

you felt him pull at the hem of your cami, the dainty pink fabric peeling off swiftly as you were left in your bra and skirt. he looked up at you with love-drunk eyes, pupils dilated and black while he started kissing down your neck.

"wait- rafe, no. we can't. topper." you gasped as you somehow leaned even more into his touch as the words came out of your mouth. he halted his actions for a moment, pulling back so he could look at you.

"fuck topper" he spoke as he pulled his shirt off swiftly, his perfect tan skin and abs making you bite your lip. you squealed as he picked you up and brought you to the top of his bed, leaning your head softly against the pillows.

"you're so pretty, so so pretty baby" he uttered, unzipping your skirt and pulling it down your soft legs. "we don't have to do this yeah? only if you want."

you didn't think you could actually adore this man more, but he surprised you every word he spoke.

"please rafe" you whined, dragging your acrylics against his abs as you watched the goosebumps from your touch.

he let out a quiet "fuck" as he smashed his lips onto yours once more.

you reached down to the waistband of his pants feeling around before pulling back as you felt an unfamiliar metal-shaped object.

he looked down at your movements as you stopped "whoops, my bad ma." he pulled the gun out of his waistband and tucked it under the pillow you weren't resting against, going back to kissing you as you giggled.

he undid his belt swiftly, pulling down his pants and boxers until his hard member came into view. you didn't even have time to think of how massive it was as he went down to kiss you once more, pulling your panties aside and entering a finger into you.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he sighed against your lips.

you whined in response, reaching down to his cock and pumping it in your hand. "can't wait any more rafe."

"its ok baby, i've got you"

you gasped loudly as he first entered into you, the large intrusion making you whine in both pain and pleasure.

"yeah, cmon. you can take it baby. you can take it"

his strokes were slow and powerful, filling you up until you felt as though you would snap. his groans soon filled the room as he pounded into you.

"you're so so good to me baby, can't believe we haven't done this sooner. gonna make you mine ma" he moaned, that statement bringing you over the edge as you came around him with a moan.

"thank you thank you thank you" you chanted, your acrylics surely making bright red scratches to his muscly back while you came.

"no, baby. thank you."

[carebearbussy]

𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙮 & 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙋𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 <3

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 1.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Your cravings have been going wild.

Ever since you had fallen pregnant by an absolute gargantuan of a man, you are forced to carry twice the amount of nutrients and food stored in your body. The local doctors had recommended that your usual meals be doubled in size, in order to support the extra weight it carried by having a child under Sukuna. And even Sukuna had chimed in, adding that maybe his diet would work for you. But you quickly declined the offer, taking into consideration the life growing inside of you. You did not want your child to grow up to be a cannibalistic monster, much like his father.

But your food choices have been much more bizarre as of lately. Things ranging from huge one course meals that could feed a family of 7, pickled everything, anything covered in cheese, and any regular foods you ate had to be made a specific way, or served in larger portions. Which is why you had decided to wake Sukuna up in the middle of the night, one of the cravings you had pondered on being at the top of your to do list.

Every now and then, your cravings would get really bad. To the point where it was now everybody else's problem. But you truly couldn't help it.

"Kuna, 'Kuna wake up!" You whispered, as you lay spooned beside him. You shook his body from behind you as you spoke, making sure he could hear you. You felt him stretch awake with a low groan, letting you free of his grasp. "Are you awake? Its important..." you ask, awaiting a response out of him. And to your avail, he is awake, but not with the attitude you were initially hoping for. He seemed annoyed that his rest had been interrupted, but those concerns were to be put to rest, as you stepped out of bed, sliding your slippers on by the edge of the bed. He looks at your standing form with half lidded eyes, clearly making the first of many signals of his annoyance with you at the moment.

"What is so important that you wake me from my rest, woman? Im giving you six seconds to speak." He says, as he props himself upwards, sitting at the edge of the bed. With you standing near him, he seizes your hips with his lower set of hands, forcing you into his proximity. "I'm not waiting all day." He ushers you on to speak, but as you think about his possible answer, you start to rethink telling him what you truly want. You look away, clearly starting to get nervous with the attention. But as you do, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look down at him, as he searches for answers. "Go on."

"Well... i've been having cravings lately, and I wanted to know if maybe the kitchen could make me something..." You say, fiddling with your thumbs, as you feel your stomach start to growl lowly. He looks down at your stomach, as you quietly protest his decision to be made. He closes his eyes for a couple seconds, before responding.

"If this is what you really need, then I will indulge this once, brat." He says with a low sigh, as he lets go of his hold on your waist, getting up from his spot on the bed. You look up at him eagerly, silently squealing to yourself as you jump up and down slightly. You wrap your arms around your husbands neck, as you reach up on your tiptoes to pepper kisses all over his defined face. He looks down at your cheerful form, looking unaffected by the attention you give him, but deep down is smiling on the inside. He knows that as long as you stay his sweet, happy wife, then he can get a good nights rest after this.

He picks you up by the back of your thighs, as you are lifted off the ground what seems suddenly. He hoists you on his left side, one hand holding your ass up, the other acting as a back rest. Letting yourself be carried, he opens the door with his right hand, walking into the large hallway to your favorite place since becoming pregnant, the kitchen.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

It seemed as if you had started a national crisis.

With the way you had Uraume, as well as a team of the estates chefs working like dogs in the kitchen. All that could be heard from the upper left wing of the estate was the clinking and clanging of pots and pans, as well as chefs scurrying to prepare the food you had requested. Because it was well known that any request of yours, was to be taken as seriously as if it were from Sukuna.

Uraume seemed to be the only calm one, with them being used to your shenanigans. They were the head of the kitchen, as they lead all of the preparations for the 'big feast', as they like to call it. That big feast being for your pregnant self, of course.

As the kitchen was torn shred by shred trying to prepare you the perfect dish, you stood by the entrance and watched, one hand on your stomach. Standing besides you was Sukuna, with lower arms crossed, as his upper arms conducted the kitchen staff with whats right and wrong. Your eyes lit up with excitement, as you watched all of these people cater to your needs.

"Kuna, how about... chocolate filled dumplings?" You asked, looking up at your focused husband. He was busy keeping an eye on everything, making sure not to mess up your multiple requests you had made in the past twenty minutes. He looks at you with upper set of eyes, his lower ones hyper focused on the kitchen staff.

"That sounds disgusting. But if that is what you wish, so be it." He tells you, scoffing at all of the ridiculous things you had said so far. He then watches as Uraume heads your way, a silver platter in hand, holding what seemed to be at least thirty pieces of bacon, covered in chocolate and sea salt. To any sane person, this would look downright vile. But to you? Sukuna watched as your mouth practically dropped. You squealed in excitement, looking at the dish in hand. "Please enjoy, my lady." Uraume says, still holding out the dish to you as you happily devour it.

But you pause as you look over at Sukuna, still looking down at you. And thats when a lightbulb flicks in your head. You grab a piece of bacon from the tray, as you step in front of Sukuna. He looks down at you, wondering what you're up to, when you reach up on your tippy toes to try and pry open his mouth. "Pleaseeee try it!" You say, pouting your lips, still trying to open his mouth with your fingers. He looks down at you as he furrows his eyebrows, curling his lip upwards. "No, that is repulsive."

Your pout lowers into a full frown, your eyes glossy with the want for him to try what you are offering him. He rolls his eyes, as he picks up the piece of bacon you are holding with two fingers. He looks at it, as he scoffs, swallowing it in one go. "See! Its good right?" You ask him, a smile crossing your face. He looks at you with a 'are you serious?' look, before ruffling your hair, amused with how happy you were that he divulged you.

"It was horrible. Never again are you going to make me do these kinds of things for you, brat."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

[foolinafable]

family matters

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Synopsis: You and Five return after seven years away in a different timeline- but you don’t return alone Word Count: 1.8k Tags: Fluff, No Lila and Five, Pregnancy, Children, Season 4 fix it (kinda) Note: Got so much love on the last one I wrote this! Try to ignore spelling mistakes it's currently 3am.

Stuck with only your irritable CIA colleague Five Hargreeves was anything but a good time. You both got lost at the godforsaken subway station he mistakenly teleported you both to. Travelling for a year by his side certainly mellowed you out. His personality slowly making you feel comforted as you both explored multiple timelines together trying to find your way home.

Surprisingly, the idea he possessed powers was the easiest thing for you to come to terms with, probably due to your job at the CIA making it seem plausible to you that the government does hide a lot- they’re even hiding the whole science of separate timelines.  After around a year of trying and failing to find your way home, you and Five decided to ease off the vigorous schedule you unwittingly created, finding a timeline safe enough to stay in for a while allowing you both to rest and brainstorm ideas of how you could both find a way home to your families. 

You both made a mistake. Falling to know how long a while would be you find yourselves still in the timeline you chose as your ‘temporary’ home six years later. Finding each other a lot less frustrating than at the start of this. You suppose that’s an understatement as you watched Five play with your child, a girl who possessed brown hair and green eyes not too dissimilar to her father’s. It almost wasn’t fair how much her features favoured his. But, seeing his beauty reflected upon her features could never be something you would complain about. 

“Maybe if we get lucky the next one will resemble you more,” you remember his words from a few days earlier when you started to show a hand placed under your abdomen smiling as if this was the greatest gift he could ever receive. But you don’t think it would matter if this one ended up looking like their older sibling and their father. If anything you would prefer it- not that you would ever admit it.

Picking another fresh strawberry from the greenhouse of the abandoned home you now called your own. You placed it into the basket plans to make jam and jelly already filling your mind when you felt yourself begin to flush from the sweltering heat of the sun beating down upon the glass. Your skin heating up to a point of large discomfort, sweat beginning to gather at your temples. You sighed knowing that you couldn't continue to harvest anything else unless you wanted to face Five’s rath over you overheating again. 

“Mom!” Maxine ran towards you eagerly hands encircling your legs as she got close enough for a welcoming hug. She quickly looked up towards you big green eyes staring at you prettily 

“Hiya munchkin” You stroked the top of her hair as she smiled up at you with glee

“What doing?” the three-year-old questioned head titling as she waited for your response 

“Strawberries” was all you replied grabbing the basket to show her 

“Have one?” she asked pointing at the basket, batting her eyes to try to sway your decision. You simply plucked one out of the basket and gave it to her relishing in the delighted smile she sent your way before biting into the sweet fruit. You smiled at her before looking up to meet the other pair of green eyes that had made their way into the greenhouse. Five watched the interaction of his favourite girls softly only moving closer once you looked at him.

“Everything alright mumma?” he questioned noticing your flustered expression from the moment he and Maxine stepped foot in the conservatory

“A bit hot” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders as he drew closer, trapping Maxine in between the two of you as the back of his hand touched your forehead he hummed in agreement with your words

“Let’s get you inside the house, don’t need you getting heatstroke” You forced down the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics and simply nodded in agreement

“Some cold water and a sit down would be nice.”

He grabbed one of your hands and Maxine’s with the other leading you both back towards the house. After placing the basket of strawberries in the kitchen you quickly sat down on the couch feeling a slight ache in your feet while Five grabbed you a glass of water with more icecubes than you could even count, you smiled in thanks as he passed it to you while Maxine sat next to you, a small children book in hands that she was determined to read to you and her younger sibling as she wanted them to be just as smart as her. 

You could hear Five pattering around the house, tidying up before you could even think about it. Maxine had quickly given up on trying to read, getting bored after two pages and was instead sitting playing with some wooden blocks by your feet. You furrowed your eyebrows when you couldn’t hear Five moving around anymore a stark silence surrounding you now.

“Everything alright?” you shouted trying to figure out where he had gotten to, heart fluttering when there was no reply. Setting your glass down on the table in front of you as you rose from your rather comfortable spot on the couch, you walked into the other room where your lover was his body was stick straight, eyes not daring to leave the notebook in his hand. “What?” you questioned softly walking towards him, eyeing the words on the book as you got close enough.

“This” he began astounded “Is our way home, it’s written by me but I didn’t write this. Another me did.” you simply nodded before smiling  

“Looks like we’re going home.”

── ✧

You and Five found yourselves outside of what he assured you was his brother Diego’s house. Maxine who was resting her head on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his middle looked astounded by the snow while nerves filled you- the last time you saw any of his family was when you were put on the case that got you lost in the timelines to begin with and even then you barely saw his brothers and sister-in-law as they were quickly taken to hq for a show round to get them out of the way. You didn’t even want to think how you would explain this to them let alone to your own family but you guess this is the easier of the two as they all had powers and also been to multiple different timelines. Five set Maxine down next to you as he rapped on the door you quickly grabbed her hand before she could run off into the snow when the door opened 

“You back!” the man, Diego you assumed, smiled as he looked at Five 

“I am” he stared at his brother almost in shock that he had seen him for the first time for him in seven years

“Good” the man confirmed “We were all starting to get worried.” his eyes then turned towards you and the brunette-haired little girl who was trying to hide behind you “And you are?” he questioned and you quickly gave him your name his eyes sparking in recognition for some reason as he crouched to the ground to greet your daughter “And who is this little princess?” he asked quietly as Maxine started at him 

“This is Maxine” is all you said feeling Five’s eyes on you knowing he wanted to wait until you got inside to drop the bomb you could see Diego begin to connect the dots as he introduced himself to you but he was clearly confused because he would know if Five had a child in the last three years in this timeline at least.

“I will explain everything once we get inside- can’t let the missus get cold” is all he said to Diego as the man allowed you into his home. 

He quickly led you to the living room where to sat on the sofa, Maxine being picked up by Five and placed on his lap when she tried to climb onto yours, you turned towards him to complain but quickly stopped when you met his glower instead choosing to put a comforting hand on your tummy a habit you kept from your first pregnancy. Diego called for his wife Lila to come to sit with him when the door opened revealing more of Five’s family he whispered their names to you as they walked in all choosing to sit down when Diego told them that Five was going to explain where he’s been and why his colleague, a word you hadn’t been referred to as in a long time, was here. With most of his family here excluding Ben and Viktor, he cleared his throat to get their attention

“As you all know the marigold has made our powers a little different to what we are used to” They all made sounds of agreement “My blinking takes only to a tube station where each stop is a new timeline and we” gesturing to you “got stuck, unable to find our way back until now. We were away for seven years but for you has only been a few hours” he took their silence as a sign to continue “This is my wife” he spoke your name “And our daughter Maxine.” you sat in silence for a moment.

“Wait! This is the colleague he was always telling us about?” Luther asked excitedly you turned to the larger man confused when Klaus and Allison quickly agreed with him

“I thought he was joking when he said there was a cute girl who he worked cases with” Claire, Alison’s daughter, announced making her mother and uncles laugh

“I can’t believe you have a child” Lila spoke eyes wide

“Well he is going to have another one in a couple of months,” you told the already shocked woman who quickly smiled at the revelation while the others called out congratulations to their brother 

“How far along are you?” Allison asked as she came up to you silently questioning if she could touch the small bump you simply nodded “We think around thirteen weeks” looking to Five who simply nodded

“She only started showing a few days ago”

“I can’t believe it” Luther called out while pulling funny faces making Maxine laugh as she got a little less shy around her family.

You smiled as you watched Maxine get up and walk towards Lilas’ children playing with them as Five’s hand found its way to yours stroking your knuckles. You never thought you could ever get home let alone come back home happier than you had left it. You suppose a thanks was due to your rather irritable husband and his wacky powers.

[reilemon]

🌹Surrender❄️

♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.

♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne

♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp

♡︎ word count: 5.5k

♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!

♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia

The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”

You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”

Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”

“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”

The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”

Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”

Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”

Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”

Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.

The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.

“This place again?”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”

Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them. 

Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks. 

Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm. 

Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.

The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”

The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.

But your hand starts to wander.

It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”

You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.

Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.

You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.

Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.

“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.

Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.

“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.

“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”

Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.

Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—

And then Zayne pulls back.

The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.

Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.

Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.

“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”

His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”

Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.

Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.

“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.

Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”

Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.

“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.

“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”

Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.

The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.

“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”

You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”

“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.

Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.

“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”

Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.

Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.

Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.

“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.

Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.

“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.

You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”

Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.

You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.

Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.

“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.

Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.

Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.

“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.

Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.

“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.

Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.

“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”

Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”

Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”

You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words.  Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.

Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”

The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.

You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”

Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”

Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.

“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”

Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.

“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”

The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need

“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”

Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”

His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.

Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.

“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.

“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.

You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.

But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.

“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.

His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.

Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”

Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.

Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”

Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”

The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.

Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.

Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”

Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”

Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.

Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.

You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”

Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”

Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”

Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”

Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”

You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”

You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”

Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.

“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”

“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.

Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”

By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.

[riboism]

tear you apart

》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader

》 wc: 3.3k

》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.

》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut

🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin

It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.

Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season. 

Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you. 

"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.

"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."

There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment. 

It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful. 

Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist. 

The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented. 

From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.

His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.

Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast. 

—

It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.

You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.

The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.

Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.

Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door. 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you. 

“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”

He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.

“I’m Y/N.” 

"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."

You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.

He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.

Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.

"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."

The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.

That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there. 

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.

“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.” 

There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?

“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry. 

He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away. 

"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again. 

"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.

"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"

Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."

He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.

"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."

Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter. 

"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."

—

You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles. 

The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves. 

“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.” 

You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.

“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.

“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin. 

“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter. 

You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will. 

His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest. 

“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”

—

You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis. 

You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds. 

“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily. 

Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.

Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away. 

Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt. 

Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.

“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.

You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled. 

Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.

“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.” 

Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”

You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.

Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity. 

When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.

He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.

Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament—how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.