#so you're getting the bare bones argument

[sleepy-crypt1d]

The belief of "if you like [insert ship] then you dont understand the characters" is baffling to me.

Because that's not what shipping is about.

I don't want to see these characters making out on screen, I don't want them to be made canon, I have no interest in the main story being changed just for a relationship to work. What I DO want to see is the what-if scenarios of how these people would end up together.

That's what shipping is, the what-ifs, the possibilities, the understanding that of course this is never gonna happen but what would it take for them to cross the line? What needs to happen to make him say that, y'know?

You can understand a character perfectly, can know them more than you're own brain and have never once strayed from their canon and still find the possible dynamic of them and a character interesting.

You can still imagine scenarios of 'what if he said this instead?' 'what if this went differently?' 'what would it take for them to mesh just right?' and you can do it ENTIRELY in character.

People explore ships and enjoy ships because they are a way to mess with different dynamics and ideas, not because it's what they want to see on screen, and not because they think it makes complete or perfect sense. They simply find the dynamic and 'what if they kissed' ideas enticing. That's all it is.

Fandom is for having fun, it's for relaxing and playing with digital dolls and writing fanfiction about if the dolls had trauma, and this weird elitism of 'well you don't get them like I do so therefore YOUR interpretation is wrong' is just. . . mean?

Trust me, I get not liking certain ships or HCs, I do that all the time but I also know that I don't live in that person's head. I don't know the dynamic they see, doesn't matter if they're 'in-character' or not. There are plenty of ships I have seen and haven't liked at first but then after seeing a person's AU or fic, I change my mind based on that interpretation.

Making the claim that 'you don't really understand these characters or the story' based on someone having fun with the source material is so strange to me. Not everything has to be serious 100% of the time. People will see things differently than you, and saying that they're 'fake fans' or 'don't get it' because of that feels so silly to me.

No one is lesser of a fan because they ship something.

I am so sorry for such a long post, I am just very passionate about this subject.

TLDR; people are still on their 'real fans vs fake fans' trip and I'm tired of it.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Drown With Me

Ningning x Minji x Male Reader

word count: 10K

"I was so happy, you know?"

Her words, her tone, her expression – they’re etched in your memory...

—

Firstly: let's rewind to the moment that started it all. Or rather, the fight that started it all. But just a part of it, because the whole argument was a bit too... dramatic.

—

"You fucking asshole! I can't believe you're making me feel guilty about this trip!" Minji screams, tears streaming down her face as she throws clothes into her suitcase. Her small hands are shaking with rage.

“I just can't understand you! When I keep my shit to myself, you complain that I'm not being truthful in the relationship, and when I decide to tell you what's bothering me, you freak out. You know this promotion means everything to me, Minji, and now you're acting like I'm abandoning you," you snap back, watching her frantically pack from the doorway of your shared bedroom.

"Abandoning me? No, you're just being a selfish prick who can't be happy for his girlfriend's success!" She slams the suitcase shut, mascara running down her cheeks. "I've supported every single one of your career moves, but the one time I get a huge opportunity, you make it all about you!"

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it! I just wish you'd discussed it with me first instead of just announcing you're fucking off to Singapore for a month!"

"Discuss it? With you?" She laughs bitterly. "Why? So you could try to talk me out of it? Make me feel even more guilty?"

"Minji, come on..." You try to reach for her but she jerks away.

"Don't touch me. I can't even look at you right now." She wipes her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. "I have to go or I'll miss my flight. Don't bother calling."

You watch helplessly as she drags her suitcase out of the bedroom, the wheels thumping against the hardwood floors. The front door slams shut moments later, leaving you alone in the sudden silence of your apartment.

"Fuck!" You punch the wall, immediately regretting it as pain shoots through your knuckles.

—

She drops it on you out of nowhere, right in the middle of a forkful of pasta, like it’s just casual dinner conversation. “So I’ll be in Singapore for a month. My trip is scheduled for next week.” she says, barely looking up as she keeps eating. No heads-up, no “Hey, I was thinking…” Just lays it out there, cold as fact.

You should be happy for her. Hell, you should feel damn proud. Minji, your Minji, jetting off for a huge business trip, about to prove to everyone what you already know - that she’s amazing at what she does. But instead, there’s this weird little twist of annoyance clawing its way up from somewhere deep. It’s like you’re happy, sure, but there’s this raw, stupid irritation bubbling under it all that you didn’t see coming.

She never mentioned it before. Never talked about weighing options, asked you what you thought, nothing. Just tosses it at you like a done deal, already set in stone. And yeah, it stings a little, like she didn’t even think you’d want a say. It’s petty, it’s stupid, but it’s there, scratching around at the back of your head, whispering: am I an afterthought now?

You catch yourself, feeling like the world’s most selfish boyfriend because you know she deserves this. She’s worked herself to the bone, fought for this chance to prove herself, to show she’s worth every bit of it. Of course you want her to go, to kill it, to come back with stories of how she made the whole damn boardroom take notice. But somewhere inside, there’s still that ugly little itch, wondering - couldn’t she have acted like this was a decision for the two of you? Just… a little?

The guilt starts swirling in after that, heavier than before, sinking low and deep. What kind of boyfriend gets hung up on something so small when his girlfriend’s about to take this huge step? You want to push it down, make it disappear, go back to that exact second before she said anything, and just feel proud. Proud without all this stupid baggage.

But the feeling’s there, thick and stuck, wedged between the pride and the frustration, and there’s no easy way to get it out. So you sit there in silence, forcing yourself to nod, to smile at the right parts, while she lights up, spilling plans and ideas and everything she’s about to do. You’re trying to just let it all go, to be the guy she deserves - a guy who’s genuinely happy for her without strings, without ego. But it clings to you anyway, like some shadow you didn’t invite, and all you can do is pray it doesn’t twist into something even messier down the line.

But we know exactly how it ended.

—

Three days pass in misery, all you have is takeout containers, beer bottles, and mindless TV shows. You've texted Minji multiple times but only gotten short, cold responses. The apartment feels too big, too empty without her presence.

You're sprawled on the couch, starting your fourth beer of the evening, when there's a knock at the door. For a moment, your heart leaps thinking it might be Minji, but you know she's still in Singapore.

"Coming!" you call out, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor and pulling it on as you stumble to the door. When you open it, you find yourself face to face with Ningning, Minji's best friend.

"Wow, you look like shit," she says bluntly, pushing past you into the apartment.

Ningning has always been stunning in an almost intimidating way. Today she's wearing a tight black crop top that shows off her toned stomach and high-waisted jeans that hug every curve. Her long black hair falls in waves past her shoulders, and her dark eyes seem to see right through you.

"Nice to see you too," you mutter, closing the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Minji asked me to check on you." Ningning wrinkles her nose at the mess of bottles and takeout containers. "Good thing she did. This is pathetic."

You run a hand through your unwashed hair. "I'm fine. You can tell her I'm fine."

"Really? Because you look and smell like you haven't showered in days." She picks up an empty beer bottle, examining it. "And it seems like you're trying to drink yourself into oblivion."

"It's none of your business," you snap, snatching the bottle from her hand.

Ningning's red lips curve into a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Actually, it is my business. Minji's my best friend, and she's worried about you. Even though you're being a total dick about her trip."

"You don't know anything about it."

"I know enough." She steps closer, and you catch another whiff of her perfume. "I know you made her cry before the biggest opportunity of her career. Dick move."

The guilt and alcohol make your head spin. "I didn't mean to... I just... fuck." You sink onto the couch, head in your hands.

You feel the couch dip as Ningning sits beside you, close enough that her thigh brushes against yours. "Hey," she says, her voice softer now. "I get it. Long distance sucks. But it's only a month."

"A month feels like forever right now," you admit. The beer is definitely hitting you now, making your tongue loose. "The apartment feels wrong without her here."

"Then maybe you need a distraction." Ningning's hand lands on your thigh, and your whole body tenses. "Something to take your mind off things."

You turn to look at her, meaning to tell her to back off, but the words die in your throat. She's closer than you expected, those dark eyes boring into yours. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and you can't help tracking the movement.

"Ning..." you start, but you're not sure if it's a warning or something else.

"I always wondered what it was like to be in Minji's shoes," she murmurs, her hand sliding higher on your thigh. "Maybe now's my chance to find out.”

"We can't..." But your protest sounds weak even to your own ears. The combination of alcohol, loneliness, and Ningning's intoxicating presence is making it hard to think straight.

"Why not?" Her other hand comes up to cup your face, turning you toward her. "What Minji doesn't know won't hurt her."

Before you can respond, she closes the distance between you, pressing her lips against yours. For a moment, you're too shocked to react. Then your body takes over, responding to the first intimate contact you've had in days.

Her lips are soft but demanding, nothing like Minji's gentle kisses. When her tongue pushes into your mouth, you taste mint and something sweet. Your hands move of their own accord, gripping her waist and pulling her closer.

Ning swings one leg over your lap, straddling you. The position brings her core right against your growing erection, and she grinds down deliberately, drawing a groan from your throat.

"That's it," she purrs against your lips. "Stop thinking so much."

Her hands slip under your t-shirt, nails scraping lightly against your abs. You know you should stop this, push her away, but your body is on fire with need. When she rocks against you again, your hips buck up instinctively.

"Fuck, you're already so hard for me," Ningning breathes, pulling back to look at you with heavy-lidded eyes. "Let me take care of you."

She grinds down again, more forcefully this time, and your head falls back against the couch. "This is wrong," you manage to say, even as your hands slide down to grip her ass.

"Then why does it feel so right?" She attacks your neck with lips and teeth, sucking hard enough to leave marks. The pain-pleasure sends jolts straight to your cock.

Your hands slip under her crop top, finding bare skin. Her body is different from Minji's - more toned, with smaller breasts but wider hips. The comparison makes guilt twist in your stomach, but it's quickly drowned out by lust when Ningning bites down on your earlobe.

She pulls back just long enough to yank your t-shirt over your head, then immediately latches onto one of your nipples. The sensation makes you buck up against her again, your cock straining against your boxers.

"Someone's eager," she teases, rolling her hips in slow circles. "Want to see how wet you've made me?"

Before you can answer, she grabs one of your hands and guides it between her legs. Even through her jeans, you can feel the heat radiating from her core. When you press your fingers against her, she moans and grinds down onto your hand.

"See?" She captures your lips in another burning kiss. "I've wanted this for so long. Wanted to show you what you've been missing."

The words should be a bucket of cold water, reminding you of Minji, but instead they just fuel the fire burning through your veins. You squeeze her ass with your free hand, pulling her harder against you as you devour her mouth.

Ningning breaks the kiss to stand up suddenly, leaving you bereft of contact. But before you can protest, she's hooking her fingers into the waistband of her jeans, slowly shimming them down her legs.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of her black lace thong, barely covering anything. Her legs seem to go on forever, and when she turns around to step out of her jeans, you get a perfect view of her round ass.

"Like what you see?" she asks over her shoulder, giving her ass a little shake.

"Fuck," is all you can manage, adjusting yourself in your pants.

She turns back to face you, crossing her arms to grab the hem of her crop top. In one fluid motion, she pulls it over her head, revealing a matching black lace bra. Her breasts strain against the material, nipples clearly visible through the delicate fabric.

"Your turn," she purrs, hooking her fingers in your pants. "Up."

You lift your hips automatically, letting her pull your pants and boxers down and off. Your cock springs free, already rock hard and leaking pre-cum. Ningning licks her lips at the sight, wrapping one hand around your shaft.

"Mmm, bigger than I expected," she says, giving you a few slow strokes. "No wonder Minji always looks so satisfied."

The mention of your girlfriend's name sends another pang of guilt through you, but it's quickly forgotten when Ningning drops to her knees between your legs. She maintains eye contact as she leans forward, running her tongue from base to tip.

"Fuck!" you gasp, hands gripping the couch cushions.

"Just wait," she smirks, before taking you into her mouth.

The wet heat of her mouth is incredible. She takes you deep right away, her throat relaxing to accommodate your length. Unlike Minji's hesitant, gentle oral skills, Ningning sucks cock like she was born for it.

Her head bobs up and down, tongue swirling around your shaft. One hand works what doesn't fit in her mouth while the other massages your balls. The sight of her red lips stretched around your cock, mascara starting to smear from her watering eyes, is almost enough to make you cum right then.

You thread your fingers through her long hair, not guiding her movements but just holding on. She hums around your length, sending vibrations through your whole body. When she pulls back to focus on your tip, sucking hard while her hand works your shaft, you have to grit your teeth to hold back.

"Shit, Ning, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up," you warn her, trying to pull her off.

But she just takes you deeper, looking up at you through her lashes as she deepthroats you. The sight of your cock disappearing into her throat, combined with the intense suction, pushes you over the edge.

You cum with a shout, pumping rope after rope of hot cum down her throat. Ningning swallows it all, continuing to suck until you're completely spent and oversensitive.

When she finally pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva and cum connect her lips to your cock. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

"Tasty," she says, licking her lips. "But we're not done yet."

Before you can recover, she's standing up and reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. Her breasts bounce free, smaller than Minji's but perfectly shaped with pink nipples standing at attention.

She hooks her thumbs in her thong, slowly sliding it down her legs. Your cock twitches at the sight of her bare pussy, already glistening with arousal. She's completely shaved, her pink lips puffy and inviting.

"See how wet sucking your cock got me?" She runs a finger through her folds, gathering her juices before bringing it to her mouth to suck clean. "I bet you want to taste me."

You nod dumbly, reaching for her, but she pushes you back against the couch. "Uh uh, just sit back and enjoy."

She climbs back onto your lap, but this time facing away from you. The position gives you a perfect view as she reaches between her legs to guide your semi-hard cock to her entrance.

"Ready for round two?" she asks, rubbing your tip against her wet slit.

Before you can answer, she sinks down onto you in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sensation - she's incredibly tight, her walls gripping you like a vice as she takes you to the hilt.

"Fuck, you're so big," she moans, grinding her hips in small circles. "Stretching me so good."

Your hands find her hips as she starts to move, lifting herself up before dropping back down. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy, her ass bouncing against your thighs, has you fully hard again in no time.

Ningning sets a brutal pace, riding you hard and fast. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with her increasingly loud moans. She reaches back to brace herself on your shoulders, changing the angle so your cock hits deeper.

"Yes, yes, fuck me!" she cries out, her pussy clenching around you. "Harder!"

You plant your feet firmly on the ground and start thrusting up to meet her bounces. The new force has her screaming, her nails digging into your shoulders as she takes everything you give her.

One of your hands slides around to rub her clit, and she nearly convulses at the touch. Her walls flutter around your cock as she gets closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum," she pants, movements becoming erratic. "Make me cum on your big cock!"

You increase the pressure on her clit, rubbing tight circles as you continue to thrust up into her. When she finally breaks, her whole body goes rigid, pussy clamping down on you like a vice as she screams your name.

The sight and sensation of her cumming triggers your own orgasm. You grip her hips hard enough to bruise as you empty yourself inside her, filling her pussy with hot cum.

Ningning collapses back against your chest, both of you breathing heavily. Your softening cock is still inside her, and you can feel your combined fluids leaking out around it.

"Holy fuck," she says after a moment, turning her head to kiss you lazily. "That was even better than I imagined."

Reality starts to creep back in as the post-orgasm haze fades.

You just cheated on Minji.

With her best friend.

On the couch where you and Minji usually cuddle and watch movies.

"We shouldn't have done that," you say, but make no move to push her off.

"But we did." Ningning stands up, cum running down her thighs. The sight makes your spent cock twitch. "And we're going to do it again."

She gathers her clothes and heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your guilt and confusion.

What the fuck have you done?

—

The next few days are a sickening mix of shame, guilt and lust, oh, and more incredible sex than you've ever had. Ningning comes over almost every day. You fuck on every surface of the apartment - the kitchen counter, the shower, the dining room table.

She's insatiable, always wanting more, always pushing your boundaries. She makes you do things you've never done before, things you never even considered with Minji.

After that sixth time, with both of you tangled up, tipsy and reckless, she watches as you crumble, phone in hand after hearing Minji’s voice. Tears slip down your face as the reality hits hard. You and Minji talk, stumbling through apologies and whispered promises, mending the torn edges between you. By the end, you’re clear: Ningning won’t be coming around again.

When you tell Ningning, she just smirks, as if it were a joke that only she understands. "You’re drunk," she says. "You'll change your mind. We're the same, you and me." Her words dig in, and Ningning knows that you have no way of proving her wrong. So you just grit your teeth and ask her to leave.

She does. But that smile lingers as she goes, certain she’s right.

Oh, and she is.

—

You're sitting on your couch scrolling mindlessly through your phone when you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you freeze at the sight before you. Ningning stands there in a tight white button-up shirt tied above her belly button, red tie, an obscenely short plaid skirt that barely covers her ass, white knee socks, and her black hair in pigtails. Your cock instantly stirs as memories of buying this exact outfit for Minji flood back.

"Like what you see?" Ningning purrs, doing a little twirl that makes her skirt flare up. You catch a glimpse of tiny white panties underneath.

"Ning, how in the world did you get here dressed like that?" You try to keep your voice steady but fail miserably. "We can't keep doing this."

She pushes past you into the apartment, her perfume - sweet and intoxicating - filling your nostrils. "Why not? Minji's gone on her work trip, isn't she? The one she didn't even discuss with you first?"

Your jaw clenches at the reminder. Ningning knows exactly which buttons to push. She saunters over to your couch, deliberately swaying her hips. When she bends over to adjust her sock, her skirt rides up to reveal the full curve of her ass.

"Remember how you bought this exact outfit for Minji?" she continues, straightening up and facing you. "How she said roleplaying made her uncomfortable?" Ningning runs her hands down her body. "Yeah, she tells me everything and, well, I'm here to fulfill your fantasy."

"This is wrong," you protest weakly, but your eyes are glued to her body. "You're her best friend..."

"And you're her boyfriend who she takes for granted," Ningning counters, stepping closer. "When's the last time she really fucked you properly? Made you lose control?"

Your breathing grows heavy as she closes the distance between you. Her small hand traces down your chest, over your stomach, to cup your hardening cock through your pants.

"Mmm, someone's excited," she giggles. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is fighting it."

"Ning..." you groan as she squeezes gently.

"Want to be my teacher?" she whispers, looking up at you through thick lashes. "I've been such a naughty student..."

Your resistance crumbles as she drops to her knees, quickly undoing your belt and zipper. Your cock springs free, already rock hard. Ningning licks her lips.

“Your dick is too good to be unusable for a whole month," she purrs, wrapping her small hand around your shaft. "Minji was very irresponsible this time."

The mention of your girlfriend sends wave of guilt through you, but it's quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as Ningning's hot mouth engulfs your cock. She takes you deep, deeper than Minji ever has, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis.

"Fuck!" you grunt, hands instinctively grabbing her pigtails. She moans around your length, the vibrations making your knees weak.

Ningning pulls back with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "Use my mouth," she begs. "Fuck my throat like you've always wanted to fuck hers."

You know you should stop this. Push her away. Call Minji and confess everything. But instead, you grip Ningning's pigtails tightly, using them like handlebars as you thrust deep into her willing mouth. Her throat bulges visibly each time you push in, the outline of your thick shaft visible through her delicate neck.

"Fuck, you really know how to take it," you groan, watching her glossy lips stretch around your girth. Unlike Minji, who always struggles past the halfway point, Ningning swallows your entire length without hesitation.

She looks up at you with watery eyes, mascara already starting to run down her cheeks. The sight of her in the schoolgirl outfit, on her knees, throat stuffed with your cock, is almost too much to handle.

"You like that, don't you?" you growl, pulling her pigtails to force her deeper. "Like being a better cocksucker than your best friend?"

She moans around your shaft, the vibrations making your cock throb. Drool runs down her chin as she gags slightly, but she doesn't try to pull back. Instead, she grabs your thighs and pulls herself even closer.

"Such a hungry little slut," you praise, starting to thrust into her mouth. "Taking my cock deeper than Minji ever could..."

Ningning's eyes roll back as you fuck her face, her throat relaxing to accommodate your full length. Every time you pull back, a string of thick saliva connects her lips to your cock.

"Is this what you imagined?" you ask, increasing your pace. "All those times Minji complained about not being able to deepthroat me... were you thinking about showing her how it's done?"

She tries to nod with your cock still buried in her throat, making herself gag. The sound only encourages you to thrust harder, using her pigtails to control the depth and speed.

Your balls slap against her chin with each stroke now, adding to the obscene symphony of gagging and slurping sounds. Her makeup is completely ruined, black streaks running down her face as tears flow freely.

"Such a good little throat slut," you groan, holding her head still as you fuck into her mouth. "Taking every inch like you were made for it..."

She reaches up to massage your balls while you use her throat, encouraging you to go harder, faster, deeper. The contrast with Minji's careful, hesitant blowjobs is stark - Ningning truly loves having her face fucked.

"Bet you practiced for this," you continue, watching her throat bulge. "Bet you've been using toys for months, just waiting for this moment..."

A particularly hard thrust makes her gag violently, but still she doesn't pull away. If anything, she pushes forward, burying her nose in your pubic hair as she swallows around your length.

The sight of her taking your cock so eagerly, combined with the tight squeeze of her throat, brings you dangerously close to cumming. But you're not done using her mouth yet.

You pull out completely, letting her catch her breath. Strings of thick saliva connect her swollen lips to your cock as she gasps for air.

"Please," she begs, voice hoarse from the throat fucking. "Use my mouth... wreck my throat... show me what Minji's too scared to take..."

You slam back in without warning, making her eyes go wide as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold her there, feeling her throat contract around your shaft.

"Fuck, you're such a good cocksucker," you groan, slowly withdrawing before thrusting deep again. "Taking my cock like a proper slut..."

She moans around your length, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge. Her hands grip your thighs tighter, encouraging you to use her mouth however you want.

Your pace becomes brutal as you chase your orgasm, fucking her face with abandon. The wet sounds of your cock plunging into her throat fill the room, along with her muffled moans and gagging.

"Gonna cum," you warn, pulling her pigtails harder. "Gonna flood your throat with my load..."

She looks up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for your cum. The sight of her - face a mess, throat bulging, schoolgirl outfit disheveled - pushes you over the edge.

With a final thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt in her throat and explode. She swallows eagerly around your pulsing cock, drinking down every drop of cum as you pump it directly into her throat.

Only when the last spurt has been swallowed do you slowly withdraw, watching as she gasps for air. Her lips are swollen and red, face covered in smeared makeup and saliva.

She couldn't be more beautiful.

"Thank you," she rasps, voice wrecked from the throat fucking. "For showing me what a real face fucking feels like..."

“Damn... That was amazing... You were amazing.”

"All for you, baby," she says hoarsely, standing up. "But now it's my turn to have some fun." She unbuttons her shirt slowly, revealing a lacy white bra underneath.

Ningning sits on the couch, looking at you, sliding her hands along her thighs, waiting for you to touch her.

You approach Ningning, your fingers hover at her entrance, teasing through her slick folds. She's already dripping wet, her pussy lips swollen and flushed pink. You can smell her arousal.

"Mmm, stop being such a tease," Ningning whimpers, spreading her legs wider. Her tiny white panties are soaked through, a dark wet patch visible in the center. "I need those thick fingers inside me..."

You trace light circles around her clit through the thin fabric, making her squirm. "Patience," you murmur. "Good girls wait for what they want."

"But I'm not a good girl," she purrs, grinding against your hand. "I'm the kind of girl who seduces her best friend's boyfriend while wearing a schoolgirl outfit..."

The reminder of what you're doing - who you're touching - sends a fresh wave of guilt through you. But it's mixed with an undeniable surge of arousal that makes your head spin.

You hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her smooth legs torturously slow. She kicks them off impatiently, spreading herself open with both hands to give you a perfect view of her pussy.

"Look how wet I am for you," she breathes, running a finger through her folds. "I've been dripping since I put this outfit on, thinking about how I was going to make you lose control..."

You replace her finger with yours, sliding through her wetness. Her clit is hard and swollen, begging for attention. You circle it slowly, barely touching, making her hips buck seeking more pressure.

"Fuck, your fingers feel amazing," she moans. "Minji told me they would..."

Your cock throbs at her words. "What else did she tell you?"

"Mmm, everything," Ningning says with a wicked smile. "All those late night girl talks, sharing secrets about our sex lives... She loves bragging about how good you are with your hands..."

You push one finger inside her slowly, groaning at how tight she is. Her inner walls grip you like a vice as you start pumping in and out.

"She told me how you can make her cum just from fingering her," Ningning continues, rolling her hips to meet your thrusts. "How sometimes you have to hold her down because it gets so intense..."

Adding a second finger, you stretch her tight hole while curling them to search for that special spot.

When you find it, her whole body jerks.

"FUCK!" she cries out, grabbing your wrist. "Right there! Harder!"

You massage that spot relentlessly, watching her face contort in pleasure. Her small tits bounce with each thrust of your hand, nipples hard and visible through her thin bra.

"Know what else she told me?" Ningning pants between moans. "That sometimes- oh god! Sometimes you make her squirt... but she gets embarrassed... tries to hold it back..."

You add a third finger, stretching her even more. Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud while your fingers work that spot inside her.

"I'm not shy like her," she continues, voice getting higher as pleasure builds. "I want to soak your whole fucking hand... want to show you what you're missing with her..."

Her pussy gets wetter with each thrust, juices running down your wrist and dripping onto the floor. The obscene squelching sounds fill the room as you finger-fuck her mercilessly.

"She also told me about your schoolgirl fantasy," Ningning moans. "How you bought her this exact outfit... but she was too vanilla to wear it... said roleplaying made her uncomfortable..."

Your fingers pump faster at her words, thumb working her clit harder. She's so wet now, practically gushing around your fingers.

"But look at me," she purrs. "Wearing exactly what you wanted... letting you do exactly what you've been dreaming about... being exactly the dirty little slut you need..."

Her words drive you wild. You curl your fingers more aggressively, massaging her g-spot while your thumb rubs quick circles on her clit. Her thighs start trembling as she gets close.

"That's it," she encourages. "Make me cum like you make her cum... show me why she brags about those fingers..."

You can feel her pussy starting to contract around your fingers. Ningning pulls the bra off in one go, breaking the strap. She's close, so close. You lean down and take one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking hard while your hand works between her legs.

"Oh fuck!" she screams. "Right there, don't stop, gonna cum gonna cum gonna-"

Her whole body goes rigid as the orgasm hits. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers like a vice, gushing fluid all over your hand. But you don't stop - you keep going, working her through it as she writhes and moans.

"Don't stop don't stop don't stop!" she chants, riding your hand desperately. More fluid gushes out with each thrust, soaking your arm and the couch beneath her.

Just when you think she's done, another wave hits. Her thighs clamp around your wrist as she squirts again, spraying her release all over you. The sight of your girlfriend's best friend coming undone on your fingers is the hottest thing you've ever seen.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" she screams, grinding against your hand as a third orgasm builds immediately after the second. Her whole body is shaking now, covered in a light sheen of sweat that makes her skin glow.

You keep going, relentless in your assault on her g-spot while your thumb continues its torture on her oversensitive clit. She's babbling incoherently now, lost in pleasure.

"Too much!" she finally gasps, trying to close her legs. But you hold them open with your free hand, not letting her escape the stimulation.

"I thought you weren't shy?" you tease, curling your fingers harder inside her. "I thought you could take what Minji couldn't?"

Those words seem to trigger something in her. Her eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through her, this one even more intense than the others. She squirts so hard it sprays up your chest, soaking your shirt.

Only when she begs you to stop, you slowly withdraw your soaked fingers. She grabs your wrist before you can pull away completely, bringing your fingers to her mouth.

Looking directly into your eyes, she sucks them clean one by one, moaning at her own taste. Her tongue swirls around each digit, making sure to get every drop.

"Mmm," she purrs after releasing them with a obscene pop. "I taste good on your fingers,” she pants, pulling you up, “but I bet I taste even better on your cock..."

These words are enough to make you sit on the couch, Ningning jumps on your cock with desperate abandon, she adjusts herself on your lap and you feel the warm and delicious grip of her tight pussy. Her schoolgirl skirt fans out around her hips as she rides you, the pleated fabric barely hiding where your bodies join.

"Fuck, you're so big, I bet you need to be careful not to hurt Minji's pussy with that thick cock," she moans, grinding her hips in circles.

And it's true.

Each time you’re with Minji, that balance between careful tenderness and locked-up heat tears at you. And somehow, the comparison between the careful sex you have with Minji and the raw sex you're having now makes your cock throb harder inside her tight hole. Ningning notices, clenching her pussy walls around you.

"Does it turn you on?" she purrs, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. "Knowing you're stretching her best friend's pussy? Filling me up while she's working?"

You grab her hips harder, helping her bounce faster on your shaft. Her small tits bounce with each movement, nipples hard and visible through her thin white shirt. The whole schoolgirl outfit is disheveled now - tie loose, shirt unbuttoned, skirt hiked up around her waist.

"God, you feel so good," she pants, throwing her head back. "So much better than I dreamed about all those nights touching myself..."

Your cock twitches at her words. "You touched yourself thinking about me?"

"Mmhmm," she moans, grinding down harder. "Every time Minji bragged about your cock, I'd go home and finger myself imagining it was you... imagining you choosing me instead of her..."

She starts bouncing faster, her tight pussy taking your full length with each stroke. The wet sounds of her arousal fill the room, along with the slap of skin on skin.

"But the real thing is so much better," she continues, voice getting higher with pleasure. "Your thick cock stretching me open... making me take every inch..."

You can feel yourself getting close, the familiar pressure building in your balls. But you try to hold back, not ready for this to end.

"I can feel you throbbing," she teases, clenching her walls around you again. "Are you going to cum for me? Going to fill up my tight little pussy?"

The thought of cumming inside her makes your cock pulse dangerously. You know this shouldn't be happening, but her pussy feels too good, gripping you like it never wants to let go.

"Do it," she encourages, bouncing even faster. "Cum inside me. Give me what you give her..."

Your hands tighten on her hips as you get closer to the edge. She's riding you like her life depends on it now, taking your cock so deep you can feel her cervix with each stroke.

"One time when Minji was drunk and loose, she told me that you love creampie," she suddenly whispers, and your cock throbs hard at the admission. "Minji mentioned you have a breeding kink... that you love the risk..."

You try to lift her off your cock but she pushes back down hard, taking you to the hilt. "Don't you dare pull out," she demands. "I want to feel you flood my fertile pussy..."

The pressure in your balls is almost unbearable now. Every bounce of her tight pussy brings you closer to the edge. Your cock swells even larger inside her as your orgasm approaches.

"That's it," she moans, feeling you grow. "Give me your cum. Breed me like you want to breed her..."

With a groan, you explode inside her. Your cock pulses violently, shooting rope after rope of hot cum deep in her unprotected pussy. She keeps riding through your orgasm, milking every drop from your throbbing shaft.

"Fuck yes!" she cries out, grinding down hard as you fill her. "I can feel you pumping me full... marking me as yours..."

Only when the last spurt of cum coats her walls does she slow her movements. She stays seated on your cock, clenching her pussy to keep your seed inside her.

"Mmm, perfect," she purrs, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. "Now I'm going to keep your cum warm in my pussy all day... let it soak into my fertile womb..."

You can feel the tension in the air, a twisted mix of possessive satisfaction and something darker, something that feels dangerously close to obsession.

You give a low chuckle, tightening your hold on her hips. "About that," you murmur, watching her expression shift as the words sink in. "You do know I had a vasectomy, right?"

For a moment, she just blinks at you, her lips parting as the realization hits. "What?" Her voice is sharp, barely above a whisper, her brows knitting together in visible confusion.

"Yeah. Minji was the one who asked for it," you continue, watching every flicker of emotion on her face. "She said she wouldn’t let me come inside her unless I did.”

“B-but I thought that… The breeding kink…”

“Yeah, I like it, but you know Minji would never go for it. Well, maybe in the future... But at least I can cum inside her now, so that's a win.”

She bites her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. Eyes narrowing, and, for a second, there is an almost obsessive tone in her voice. “So, you’re telling me… this whole time, all of this,” she gestures to herself, still seated on you, your cum mixed with her juices already leaking down her sweaty thighs, “has been for nothing?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Were you actually trying to get pregnant?"

Ningning’s cheeks flush, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Pfft, no way. I'm not crazy! That was just dirty talk to turn you on. I’m not even in my fertile period,” she says, her voice forcedly nonchalant.

You arch a brow, skeptical. Her gaze wavers for a split second, and a strange feeling knots in your gut. For the first time, you notice that hint of danger in her gaze, something deeper and darker… or maybe it's just the image of your adultery reflected in her eyes.

—

Three weeks into Minji's trip, you're lying in bed with Ningning, both covered in sweat from another intense session. She's tracing patterns on your chest with her fingernail, occasionally leaning up to kiss your neck.

"I don't want this to end when she comes back," she says suddenly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you.

"Ning..." you start, but she cuts you off with a kiss.

"Don't give me that bullshit about how wrong this is," she says against your lips. "We both know this is more than just fucking."

"What do you want me to do?" you ask, running your hand down her naked back.

"Break up with her." Ningning's voice is firm, no room for argument. "End it as soon as she gets back."

"I can't do that to her," you protest weakly. "I… I'm still in love with her. My feelings for Minji haven't changed… She doesn't deserve-"

"What she doesn't deserve is a boyfriend who's fucking her best friend behind her back!" Ningning cuts in. "Either you tell her, or I will."

The threat hangs in the air between you. You know she means it - Ningning has never been one to make empty threats.

"You'd really do that to her?" you ask, though you already know the answer.

"I'd be doing her a favor." Ningning sits up, the sheet falling away to reveal her naked body. "Better she finds out now than after you've wasted more of her time."

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's Minji's mother, and your blood runs cold when you see the message.

"Minji's in the hospital," you read aloud, sitting up quickly. "She collapsed during a meeting. They think it might be her heart condition acting up again."

Ningning's expression doesn't change, but her eyes harden slightly. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know. Her mom says they're running tests." You're already getting out of bed, looking for your clothes. "I need to call her."

"Of course you do," Ningning says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Run back to her like always."

You ignore her as you pull on your pants and grab your phone. Minji answers on the second ring, her voice weak but happy to hear from you.

"Hey baby," she says, and your guilt threatens to choke you. "Don't worry, I'm okay. Just pushed myself too hard."

"What happened? What are the doctors saying?" You pace the room as you talk, very aware of Ningning watching you from the bed.

"They want to keep me here for observation for a few days." She sounds tired. "But I should still be able to come home on schedule next week."

"That's good," you say, though your stomach churns at the thought. "Just focus on getting better, okay?"

"I miss you so much," she says softly. "I can't wait to come home and just be with you. Maybe we can finally start talking about getting married like we always planned."

The words hit you like a physical blow. Behind you, you hear Ningning scoff quietly.

"Yeah, maybe," you manage to say. "Get some rest, okay? I love you."

Those beautiful words seem to have a sarcastic connotation coming from you now, reality seems to make sense again, your mind being taken over by reason, so logical and obvious, and with it, all you can think is: I ruined everything. After you hang up, you turn to find Ningning already dressed, gathering her things.

"Well, this should be interesting," she says with a cruel smile. "What are you going to do now? Marry her while fucking me on the side?"

"This has to stop," you say, running a hand through your hair. "She needs me right now."

"No, what she needs is the truth." Ningning steps close to you, running a hand down your chest. "When she comes back you will tell her everything or I will. And trust me, my version won't be kind."

She leaves you standing there, torn between desire and guilt, love and lust.

—

The next few days are torture. Minji calls or texts constantly from the hospital, full of love and plans for the future. Meanwhile, Ningning sends you increasingly explicit photos and videos, reminding you of what you'll be missing. And when you ignore everything she sends you: that's when the threats come back. Roughly speaking, it's like she has a double-edged sword, cutting you with both lust and guilt.

But you try to stay away from Ningning, to focus on being there for Minji, but it's like she has a sixth sense for when you're at your weakest…

The knock at your door comes just after midnight. You're lying in bed, unable to sleep, thoughts of Minji in that hospital bed haunting you. When you open the door, Ningning stands there in a trench coat, red lipstick perfectly applied, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Miss me?" she purrs, letting the coat fall open. Black lace barely covers her tits, the lingerie leaving nothing to imagination. Your cock instantly hardens despite your best efforts to resist.

"You need to fucking leave," you growl, but your eyes are glued to her body. She knows she has you.

"Make me," she challenges, stepping closer. Her perfume fills your nostrils - sweet and spicy, nothing like Minji's soft floral scent. "We both know you want this."

"I hate you," you snarl, grabbing her arm and yanking her inside. The door slams behind her.

"Show me how much," she taunts, shrugging off the coat completely. The lingerie is even more revealing than you thought - just scraps of black lace held together by thin straps. Her nipples peek through the sheer fabric.

You grab her throat, pushing her against the wall. "You're a fucking terrible friend. Minji trusts you."

"And yet here you are, getting hard just looking at me." Her hand cups your erection through your sweatpants. "Face it - you like that I'm bad. That I'm nothing like sweet, innocent Minji."

"Shut up," you growl, crushing your mouth to hers. She tastes like cherry lipstick and sin. Her tongue battles yours as she grinds against your hardness.

You bite her lower lip hard enough to hurt. She moans into your mouth, fingernails raking down your chest. Unlike Minji's gentle touches, Ningning wants to mark you, to leave evidence of what you've done.

"Fucking slut," you mutter, ripping the flimsy bra. Her tits spill free, nipples hard and begging to be bitten. You grab them roughly, pinching and twisting until she gasps.

"Yes, hurt me," she pants. "Do all the dirty things she won't let you do."

The reminder of Minji makes you even angrier. You spin Ningning around, shoving her face-first against the wall. One hand tangles in her long dark hair, yanking her head back.

"Is this what you wanted? To be my dirty little whore?" Your free hand comes down hard on her ass, the smack echoing through the room.

"Fuck yes!" She pushes back against you. "Spank me harder. Leave marks."

You rain blows on her ass until it's bright red, each strike punctuated by her moans of pleasure-pain. Your cock throbs painfully, straining against your sweats.

"Look at you, getting wet from being spanked." You rip her panties down, fingers finding her dripping pussy. "Such a filthy slut."

"Only for you," she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Minji told me how gentle you are with her. But that's not what you really want, is it?"

"Don't talk about her." You thrust two fingers into her roughly, making her cry out. Her pussy clenches around them, cream coating your hand.

"Why not? She tells me everything about your sex life." Ningning rocks back on your fingers. "How you always ask to cum on her face but she won't let you. How you hold back because you're afraid of being too rough."

Rage and lust war inside you. You withdraw your fingers and shove them in her mouth. "Taste yourself, whore."

She sucks them clean eagerly, moaning around them. When you pull them out, spit trails from her lips.

"On your knees," you order, shoving her down. She goes willingly, looking up at you with those dark, knowing eyes.

You free your cock, slapping it against her cheek. Pre-cum smears across her skin. "This what you came for?"

"Mmm, I love choking on your cock." She licks the head teasingly. "She says you're so careful with her mouth, afraid of going too deep."

You grab her hair with both hands, ramming your cock down her throat. She takes it like a pro, nose pressed against your pelvis, throat contracting around you.

"Fuck, you really are a whore." You hold her there until she gags, tears streaming down her face. When you finally let her breathe, she gasps but immediately opens wide for more.

"Use my throat," she rasps. "Make me choke on it."

You fuck her face brutally, hips snapping forward as you force your cock deeper with each thrust. Spit and pre-cum drip down her chin, mascara running from her tears. She maintains eye contact the whole time, those dark eyes challenging you to go harder.

When you pull out, she's a mess - lipstick smeared, face covered in her own saliva. Your cock twitches at the sight.

"Get on the couch," you command. "Hands and knees."

She crawls there slowly while taking off her high heels, making sure you get a good view of her red ass and dripping pussy. Once in position, she looks back at you with a smirk.

"Going to fuck me like you wish you could fuck her?"

You answer with action, lining up and slamming into her in one brutal thrust. She screams, back arching as you bottom out.

"I wanna hear you scream," you growl, setting a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room.

"Yes, yes! Wreck my pussy!" She pushes back to meet each thrust, tits swaying beneath her.

You grab her hair again, pulling her head back as you pound into her. Your other hand comes down hard on her ass, leaving fresh handprints.

"Such a fucking whore, seducing your best friend's man." You slam in deeper, making her whole body jerk. "Bet you planned this from the start."

"Maybe," she pants. "Or maybe- fuck! - Maybe I just knew you needed someone who could handle all this."

You respond by fucking her harder, angling your hips to hit that spot that makes her walls clench around you. Her moans get higher, more desperate.

"That's it, make me cum on your cock!" She reaches between her legs to rub her clit. "Show me why Minji keeps you around!"

The mention of Minji's name sends fresh anger through you. You pull out suddenly, flipping her onto her back. Before she can protest, you're back inside her, pinning her wrists above her head.

"I said don't fucking talk about her." You bite her neck hard enough to leave marks, sucking bruises into her skin.

"Make me stop," she challenges, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you deeper.

You release her wrists to grab her throat instead, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. Her pussy gets even wetter, cream coating your cock as you rail her.

"Is this what you wanted? To be choked while I fuck you senseless?" Your thumb presses against her windpipe.

She can only nod, eyes rolling back as her first orgasm hits. Her whole body convulses, pussy spasming around your length.

You don't slow down, fucking her through her climax and beyond. She claws at your back, leaving long red scratches that sting deliciously.

"More," she demands when she can speak again. "I want it all."

You pull out, cock glistening with her juices. "Get that ass in the air."

She quickly flips over, face down and ass up, reaching back to spread her cheeks. Her asshole winks at you invitingly.

"Another thing she won't let you do," Ningning taunts. "But I love it up the ass."

You gather her wetness on your fingers, working them into her tight hole. She moans wantonly as you stretch her.

"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, adding more fingers. "Taking it in all your holes like a proper whore."

When she's ready, you line up your cock with her asshole and push in slowly. The tight heat makes you groan despite yourself.

"Fuck yes, stretch my ass!" She pushes back, taking more of you. "Fill me up!"

You grab her hips, digging your fingers in hard enough to bruise as you bottom out. Her ass grips your cock like a vice.

"I'm gonna sink my cock in that tight little ass." You start thrusting, each movement making her moan.

"God yes! Harder!" She reaches back to spread herself wider. "Use me like the whore I am!"

You pick up speed, watching your cock disappear into her ass over and over. The sight is intoxicating - this perfect little slut taking everything you give her.

Her hand moves between her legs again, fingering her dripping pussy as you fuck her ass. The double stimulation has her trembling, approaching another orgasm.

"That's it, play with that wet cunt while I wreck your ass." You spank her again, leaving more red marks. "Show me what a filthy slut you are."

"So close," she pants. "Fuck, your cock feels so good in my ass!"

You reach around to pinch her nipples, twisting them roughly. That pushes her over the edge - she screams as she cums, whole body shaking.

Her ass clenches rhythmically around your cock, nearly making you lose control. But you're not done with her yet.

You pull out of her ass, flipping her over again. "Open that pretty mouth, whore. Time to taste your ass."

She eagerly takes your cock between her lips, moaning at her own taste. You fuck her face again, slower this time, letting her tongue work over every inch.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you grunt. "Born to take dick in all your holes."

She hums in agreement, reaching up to fondle your balls. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through you.

You pull out before you get too close. "On your back again. Want to see those tits bounce while I fuck you."

She spreads her legs wide as you mount her again, sliding back into her pussy. It's even tighter now after her orgasms, gripping you with a new creamy softness.

"Fuck me raw," she demands. "Make me feel it for days."

You grab her legs, pushing them back until her knees are by her ears. The new angle lets you go even deeper, your balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.

"Gonna fill this pussy up."

"No," she pants. "Want you to cum on my face. Paint me with your load like you've always wanted."

The thought pushes you closer to the edge. You've fantasized about this countless times - covering a pretty face with your cum.

Your thrusts become erratic as you near your peak. Ningning notices and grins up at you.

"Do it," she urges. "Show me what Minji's missing."

You pull out just in time, straddling her chest as she opens her mouth wide. Your cock erupts, shooting thick ropes of cum across her face.

She moans as you paint her, cum landing on her cheeks, lips, forehead. Some gets in her hair, more drips down her chin.

"Fuck yes," she purrs, licking what she can reach. "Mark your territory."

You keep jerking off to failure while admiring your beautiful work of art. Her face is completely covered in your cum, makeup ruined, lips swollen from sucking your cock.

"Fuck yeah," she growls, slurping up every fucking drop she can get her tongue on. “You came so much all over my face, baby."

"Look at you, you filthy little cumdumpster," you grunt, using your cock to spread the cum all over her face like a paintbrush. "Fucking beautiful.”

She looks up at you, a wicked grin on her cum-covered face. "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?" she taunts, licking the remnants of your orgasm off her lips.

You keep spreading your cum, avoiding her gaze, the guilt gnawing at you. She grabs your wrist, stopping your movements. "Tell me I'm better than her," she demands, pulling your cock back to her mouth, licking the sensitive head.

"Don't fucking say that," you mutter, trying to pull away, but she holds firm.

"Tell me!" she insists, taking your cock deeper into her mouth, sucking hard.

You finally yank your cock away, getting off her abruptly. "No," you say firmly. There's a heavy silence as you pull on your pants and walk to the apartment door to open it and grab the coat she left in the hallway. "Get out!” you exclaim, throwing the coat at her.

“May I clean myself first, sir?”

When she comes out of the bathroom, you're a little calmer.

In fact, you're fucking tired.

“Why are you doing this to her?” you ask, the frustration spilling over, sharp and bitter. “She’s your best friend. Doesn’t any of this mean a damn thing to you?”

Ningning slowly sits on the couch to put on her high heels, taking her time. "Best friend?” she scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Minji’s no friend of mine. Hasn’t been for a long time. You think she even cares?”

You frown, trying to make sense of this mess. “You two were inseparable-”

“Were,” she interrupts, voice cold and dismissive. “Until she swooped in and took you right out of my hands.” Her eyes narrow, and she lets out a bitter laugh. “Do you even remember how we met? How I was the one who introduced you to her?”

You do remember, vaguely, those early nights working late at the bar, Ningning hanging around, laughing too loud, leaning a little too close. And then she’d brought Minji along one night, saying something about “my best friend, you’ll love her.” And you had, instantly.

She watches realization dawn across your face, her smirk deepening. “Yeah, that’s right. I brought her to meet you. She saw me with you and knew exactly what she was doing.” Her voice drops, bitter. “She knew I liked you. And then she went and did what she always does - takes what she wants without a damn thought about anyone else.”

You shake your head, but doubt nags at the edges of your mind. “She couldn’t have known-”

“She knew,” Ningning hisses, stepping toward you, her gaze fierce. “She fucking knew! But that’s Minji, isn’t it? Perfect little Minji, the one who can do no wrong. Sweet, innocent, perfect, while the rest of us scrape for her leftovers.” Her laugh is harsh, cold. “But guess what? She doesn’t get everything. Not anymore.”

The bitterness in her voice grates against you, hitting nerves you didn’t know you had. “You could’ve just told her,” you say quietly. “All of this - the stab in the back, the lies - none of it would’ve happened if you’d just been honest.”

She rolls her eyes. “You really think she’d care? Even if I had told her, she wouldn’t have given a fuck. She’s never cared about me. I was just someone to make her look better, someone to stand in her shadow.” Her voice drips with scorn. “She’s never really seen me.”

“So this is what, revenge?” you demand, voice hard. “Just because she didn’t fall over herself to make you feel special?”

She gives you a slow, dark smile, filled with satisfaction and anger. “Call it whatever you want. But you’re here, aren’t you? And every time you touch me, she loses a little more of that shiny perfect life of hers.”

"You're just a spiteful bitch. You don't deserve Minji's friendship.”

She steps closer, running a hand down your chest, voice low, almost a whisper. “And what does that make you? Huh? Besides a lying, cheating asshole? Minji’s so delicate, so breakable… shouldn’t you be taking care of her instead of - well - fucking me?”

You push Ningning away abruptly and point to the door. “Get out of my sight!”

When the door clicks shut, you glance back at the couch - a disaster of tangled sheets, a pillow on the floor, the lingering scent of sweat and regret. That couch… the same one where Minji used to kneel between your legs, her soft hands trailing up your thighs, her sweet, shy giggles filling the air whenever you teased her.

—

You stand anxiously at the airport arrivals gate, your heart pounding as you wait to see Minji again after a month apart. Your hands are sweaty and trembling - not just from excitement to reunite with your girlfriend, but from the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on you. The past few weeks have been a living hell of secrets, lies and desperate late-night encounters that you know will destroy everything if they come to light.

Finally you spot her emerging through the sliding doors, pulling her pink carry-on suitcase. Despite being sick during her trip, she looks beautiful as ever in her oversized cream sweater and blue jeans. Her face lights up when she sees you and she runs forward, throwing herself into your arms.

"I missed you so much!" she exclaims, pressing her face into your chest. You hold her tight, breathing in her familiar sweet scent, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts of all the times you've betrayed her trust.

"I missed you too, baby," you say, and it's not a lie. You've ached for her every single day she's been gone.

Which makes what you've done even more fucked up.

On the drive home, Minji chatters excitedly about her trip, though you can tell she's tired from the long flight. She mentions feeling weak and dizzy a few times while traveling, which worried her given her heart condition. You listen and nod, but your mind keeps drifting to Ningning's latest threatening text:

"Time's running out..."

—

At home you're helping Minji with her suitcase, trying to act normal while your heart pounds with a mix of desire and crushing guilt. Her delicate frame moves gracefully as she organizes her clothes, and you can't help but stare at her perfect ass in those tight jeans. The same ass you've missed so fucking much this past month.

"I really missed you, baby," she says softly, turning to face you with those innocent eyes that make your stomach twist with shame. Before you can respond, she's in your arms, her soft lips pressing urgently against yours. The familiar taste of her cherry lip gloss floods your senses.

Her tongue slides into your mouth as her hands grip your shoulders. You can feel her whole body trembling with need against yours. "I need you so bad," she whispers between kisses. "It's been too long."

You pull back slightly, studying her face. "Are you sure you're feeling better? Your heart..."

"I'm fine now, completely recovered," she assures you, already working on your shirt buttons. "Please, I want you so much." Her voice is breathy with desire.

Your hands shake slightly as you help her undress. Each inch of exposed skin is like a dagger of guilt mixed with raw hunger. You can't stop thinking about how Ningning's skin felt under these same hands just days ago. But Minji's body is different - softer, more delicate, familiar like coming home.

Her breasts spill free as you unhook her bra, dark nipples already hard and begging for attention. You lean down to take one in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive peak as she gasps. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer.

"Fuck, I missed your mouth on me," she moans. The pure love and trust in her voice makes you want to cry.

You worship her breasts with lips and tongue, trying to pour all your remorse and devotion into each kiss. Her skin tastes sweet and clean, so different from Ningning's musky perfume that still haunts your memories. You trail kisses down her flat stomach, dropping to your knees.

Her panties are already soaked through when you peel them down her legs. The familiar scent of her arousal makes your cock throb painfully. You spread her thighs wider, drinking in the sight of her pretty pink pussy that belongs only to you. Or at least, it should have.

"Please," she whimpers, hips rolling forward seeking your mouth. You don't make her wait, diving in to lap at her swollen clit. She cries out, legs trembling as you devour her like a starving man. And you are starving - for her forgiveness, her love, her pleasure.

Your tongue traces patterns over her sensitive flesh as she writhes above you. You slip two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them to stroke that spot that drives her wild. Her walls clench around your fingers as you pump them in and out.

"Oh god, right there," she pants. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You double your efforts, sucking her clit while fucking her with your fingers. Her thighs begin to shake as she gets close. You can feel her pussy pulsing, drawing your fingers deeper.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, grinding against your face. You hum encouragement against her clit and she explodes, crying out your name as she floods your mouth with her sweet juices. You lap up every drop, helping her ride out the intense orgasm.

When her tremors finally subside, you stand and kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on your tongue. She moans into your mouth, hands fumbling with your belt buckle.

"I need you inside me," she breathes. "Need to feel you stretching me open."

You finish stripping as she pulls you toward the bed. Her small hand wraps around your rock-hard cock, stroking firmly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.

"You're so big," she purrs. "I forgot how perfectly you fill me up."

The praise makes you throb in her grip, even as shame burns in your chest. You remember Ningning saying almost the same words as she rode you. Push the memory away. Focus on Minji, only Minji.

You lay her back on the bed, settling between her spread thighs. Her pussy is still dripping from her orgasm as you line yourself up. You start to push inside but she stops you.

"Wait," she says softly. "I need to tell you something first."

Your heart nearly stops.

Does she know?

Did Ningning confess?

"I'm so sorry about our fight," she continues. "I should have talked to you about the trip earlier. I don't want you to think you're being left out. Can you forgive me?"

Relief floods through you, followed immediately by fresh waves of guilt. "Baby, no. I'm the one who should apologize. I was a complete asshole. I love you so much and I never should have..."

She silences you with a kiss. "It's okay. We're okay. Just make love to me now."

You push inside her slowly, savoring every inch as her tight walls stretch to accommodate you. She's so fucking tight after a month apart. Her nails dig into your shoulders as you bottom out.

"Fuck," she gasps. "So full. Move, baby, please move."

You start a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sliding deep again. Each thrust draws soft moans from her perfect lips. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I love you," you tell her between kisses. "Love you so much." The words taste like ashes in your mouth but you mean them with every fiber of your being.

"Love you too," she pants. "Harder baby, fuck me harder."

You pick up the pace, driving into her with more force. The wet sounds of your coupling fill the room along with her increasingly loud cries. Her pussy squeezes you a little tighter, so hot and perfect around your aching cock.

You shift angles slightly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes her see stars. Her back arches off the bed as she claws at your shoulders.

"Right there, oh fuck right there!" she practically screams. "Don't stop, gonna cum again!"

You maintain the angle, pounding into her g-spot relentlessly. Her whole body starts to shake as another orgasm builds. You can feel her pussy fluttering around you, trying to milk your cock.

"Cum for me baby," you growl. "Let me feel that tight little pussy cum on my cock."

Your words push her over the edge. She throws her head back with a cry of pure ecstasy as her walls clamp down hard. You fuck her through it, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible.

When she finally comes down, you slow your thrusts but don't stop. You're nowhere near finished worshipping every inch of her perfect body.

You pull out and flip her onto her hands and knees, admiring the curve of her spine and the perfect globes of her ass. Her pussy is dripping down her thighs, swollen and pink from your attention.

You slide back inside in one smooth thrust, both of you moaning at the deeper penetration this position allows. Your hands grip her slim hips as you start moving again, watching your cock disappear into her eager hole over and over.

"You feel so good," you groan. "So fucking perfect wrapped around my cock."

She pushes back to meet your thrusts, taking you impossibly deeper. "Love your cock," she gasps. "Fill me up so good."

You lean forward to kiss and bite at her shoulders, one hand sliding around to play with her clit. She's so sensitive after two orgasms that she jerks at the contact.

"Too much?" you ask, easing the pressure.

"No, don't stop," she begs. "Want to cum again. Please make me cum again."

You rub tight circles on her swollen clit as you continue fucking her from behind. Her moans get higher and more desperate with each passing moment. You can feel her starting to tighten around you again.

"That's it baby," you encourage. "One more time for me. Show me how good I make you feel."

Her arms give out and she faceplants into the pillow, muffling her screams as a third orgasm rips through her. You have to grip her hips tight to keep her from collapsing completely.

When she stops shaking, you carefully pull out and turn her over. She looks absolutely wrecked in the best way - hair a mess, lips swollen from kissing, skin flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat.

You kiss her deeply as you slide back inside her oversensitive pussy. She whimpers into your mouth but wraps her legs around you, pulling you closer.

"I want to try something," she says shyly when you break the kiss. "Something we haven't done before."

Your cock twitches inside her as you wait for her to continue. She bites her lip nervously.

"When you cum... I want you to cum on my face."

The words hit you like a physical blow. Images of Ningning's face covered in your cum flash unbidden through your mind. The way she'd smirked and said "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?"

You try to keep your voice steady. "Are you sure? You've never wanted that before."

She nods. "I've been thinking about it while I was away. I want to try new things with you. Want to make all your fantasies come true."

Guilt threatens to choke you but your cock throbs traitorously at her words. You kiss her hard, trying to convey everything you can't say.

You start moving inside her again, harder and faster now. She meets you thrust for thrust, getting into it despite her previous orgasms. Her hands roam over your back and shoulders as she kisses and nibbles at your neck.

"You're so beautiful," you tell her between ragged breaths. "So perfect. I don't deserve you."

She doesn't know how true those words are. Doesn't know the depth of your betrayal. But you pour all your love and remorse into every thrust, every kiss, every touch.

You can feel your own orgasm building as her tight pussy squeezes around you. The familiar pressure builds at the base of your spine. Your movements become more erratic.

"Getting close," you warn her. "Where do you want me?"

"On my face," she reminds you breathlessly. "Want to feel your hot cum all over my face."

You pull out with a groan and move up her body. She looks up at you with such trust and love as you stroke your cock above her beautiful face. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips in anticipation.

The sight pushes you over the edge. You cry out as the first rope of cum lands across her cheek. More follows, painting her lips, nose, and forehead with your seed. She keeps her eyes closed but her mouth opens slightly to catch some on her tongue.

When you're finished, you use your still-hard cock to spread the cum around her face, just like you did with Ningning. The comparison makes you sick but you can't help it. Minji looks even more beautiful like this - face covered in your cum, lips curved in a satisfied smile.

"Was that okay?" she asks softly, opening her eyes to look up at you.

You lean down to kiss her cum-covered lips. "You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect."

She giggles and reaches for tissues to clean up, but you stop her. "Let me," you say, grabbing a warm washcloth from the bathroom. You tenderly clean her face, pressing gentle kisses to each spot after you wipe it clean.

"I actually really liked that," she admits as you finish. "The way you marked me as yours..."

If only she knew. If only you deserved her trust and devotion. But you push the guilt down and pull her into your arms, holding her close as if you could protect her from your own betrayal.

"I love you so much," you whisper into her hair. "More than anything."

She snuggles closer with a contented sigh. "I love you too. I'm so glad to be home with you."

You stroke her back as her breathing evens out, exhausted from travel and multiple orgasms. Soon she's fast asleep in your arms, completely trusting and vulnerable.

You lie awake holding her, torn between overwhelming love and crushing guilt. The memory of Ningning won't leave you alone - the way she seduced you, how easily you gave in to temptation. You don't deserve Minji's pure love and trust.

You press a final kiss to her forehead before closing your eyes, praying that someday you'll feel worthy of her love again. For now, you just hold her close and try to forget everything except how perfectly she fits in your arms.

—

Suddenly there's a knock at the front door.

You wake up feeling a little dazed, but soon your brain reminds you of the hell you got yourself into. Your blood automatically runs cold - you'd know that aggressive knock anywhere.

"Ignore it," Minji whispers sleepily.

"It might be important," you say reluctantly, getting out of bed. You quickly pull on your pants while Minji wraps herself in a sheet.

Sure enough, when you open the door Ningning is standing there with a predatory smile. She's wearing a tight black dress that shows off her curves, her long dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders.

"Oh, did I interrupt something?" she asks innocently, pushing past you into the apartment. Her eyes rake over your bare chest and the obvious bulge in your pants from morning wood.

"Ningningie!" Minji calls happily from the bedroom. "Give me a minute to get dressed!"

While Minji is changing, Ningning corners you in the kitchen. She presses her body against yours, her hand sliding down to squeeze your still-hard cock through your pants.

"Miss me?" she purrs. "I know you've been thinking about me. About all the nasty things we do together."

You grab her wrist and push her away. "Stop it. This has to end."

She laughs. "You know what you have to do if you want it to end. Break up with her, or I'll tell her everything."

Before you can respond, Minji emerges from the bedroom fully dressed. Ningning immediately steps away, her demeanor changing completely as she hugs her best friend.

The three of you sit in the living room while Minji tells Ningning about her trip. You can barely focus on the conversation, too aware of Ningning's predatory gaze and the way she keeps "accidentally" brushing against you.

When she finally leaves hours later, you feel physically ill. You know you're trapped - there's no way out of this that doesn't end in devastating heartbreak for Minji.

That night, after Minji falls asleep, your phone buzzes with a text from Ningning: "Come over. Now."

You shouldn't fucking go. Every fiber of your being screams that this is wrong, that you should stay in bed with Minji's warm body curled against yours. But the threatening texts from Ningning make your blood boil - if you don't show up, she'll spill everything to Minji. That manipulative bitch has you by the balls and she knows it.

"Fuck," you mutter, carefully extracting yourself from Minji's embrace. Your girlfriend shifts slightly but doesn't wake. The guilt churns in your stomach as you slip on clothes and shoes.

The drive to Ningning's apartment is torture. Your hands burn from being pressed against the steering wheel, jaw clenched so hard it aches. When you knock on her door, she answers wearing nothing but a sheer red lingerie set, her nipples are clearly visible through the see-through fabric, and the tiny thong barely covers her pussy.

"You fucking bitch," you snarl, shoving past her into the apartment. "This is the last goddamn time. I'm done with your manipulative bullshit."

Ningning's red lips curve into a wicked smile. "Mmm, I love when you're angry," she purrs, pressing her nearly-naked body against yours. "You can take it all out on me tonight, daddy. I want you to punish me for being such a bad girl."

She produces a pair of metal handcuffs, dangling them from one finger. "I'll let you restrain me. Do whatever you want to me. Hurt me, use me, make me pay." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I know you want to."

Your cock betrays you, hardening in your pants despite your rage - or maybe because of it. Ningning notices and grinds against your erection. "See? Your body knows what it wants, even if you pretend otherwise."

With a growl, you grab her wrists and snap the cuffs around them, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary. She gasps but her eyes sparkle with excitement as you roughly shove her toward the bedroom.

"On the bed. Now." Your voice is cold and commanding. She obeys eagerly, lying back with her cuffed hands above her head. The red lingerie contrasts beautifully with her pale skin, but you're too angry to fully appreciate the view.

You climb onto the bed, straddling her waist. Your hands wrap around her throat - not squeezing, just resting there as a threat. "I should fucking choke you for what you're doing to my relationship."

"Do it," she moans, arching up against you. "Make me suffer."

Instead, you release her throat and roughly grab her tits through the sheer bra. Your fingers find her hardened nipples and pinch them harshly, making her cry out in pain and pleasure.

"Is this what you wanted, you manipulative slut?" You twist her nipples cruelly. "To force me here so I can hurt you?"

"Yes! Fuck yes!" She writhes beneath you. "I love when you're rough with me. So different from how gentle you have to be with precious little Minji-"

"Don't you fucking dare say her name," you growl, slapping her face. The crack of skin on skin is loud in the quiet room. A red handprint blooms on her cheek.

Ningning moans obscenely. "Sorry daddy. I forgot you don't like to be reminded of your girlfriend while you're fucking your side piece."

You rip her flimsy bra off, exposing her full breasts. Your mouth descends on one nipple, biting down hard enough to make her squeal. Your other hand roughly kneads her other breast, pinching and pulling at the sensitive flesh.

"Fuck yes, hurt me daddy!" she cries out. "Mark up these tits that you love to stare at when Minji isn't looking!"

Another harsh slap across her face silences her. "I told you not to say her fucking name." You grab her jaw, forcing her to look at you. "You're nothing compared to her. Just a worthless whore I'm using to get my rocks off."

The words seem to excite her more. She spreads her legs wide, the tiny thong doing nothing to hide how wet she is. "Then use me, daddy. Use this worthless whore's holes however you want."

Your hand travels down her body, roughly groping and squeezing. When you reach between her legs, you find her pussy absolutely soaked through the thin fabric. You yank the thong aside and thrust two fingers deep inside her without warning.

"Fucking slut," you growl as you finger-fuck her roughly. "Already this wet just from being manhandled. You're pathetic."

"Yes! Yes I am!" She rocks her hips, trying to take your fingers deeper. "I'm a pathetic slut who gets off on stealing other women's men. Punish me for it!"

You curl your fingers to hit her g-spot while your thumb circles her clit. But you keep the pressure light, teasing rather than satisfying. She whines in frustration, trying to grind against your hand.

"Please daddy, I need more!" she begs. "Stop teasing me!"

"Shut the fuck up," you snap, shoving three fingers into her mouth. She immediately starts sucking on them obscenely, her tongue swirling around the digits. "That's all your mouth is good for - being stuffed full."

You continue fingering her pussy torturously slow, bringing her close to orgasm before backing off. Her whole body trembles with need, hips bucking desperately. Wet sounds fill the room as you pump your fingers in and out of her dripping cunt.

"Look at you, so desperate to cum on my fingers," you taunt. "Such a needy little whore. I bet you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you like this while I'm in bed with Minji."

She moans around your fingers in her mouth, nodding eagerly. The admission makes your cock throb with anger and arousal. You withdraw your fingers from her mouth and pussy, making her whine at the loss.

"You want my cock, slut? Beg for it." You start undressing, watching her squirm on the bed.

"Please daddy, I need your big cock inside me! Need you to fuck me hard and rough, the way you can't fuck her. Want you to take out all your anger on my tight little pussy. Please please please!"

Once naked, you grab her hair and yank her head up. "First you're going to choke on it." You slap your hard cock against her face. "Open wide, whore."

She parts her lips eagerly and you waste no time shoving your cock down her throat. She gags and chokes but takes it like the experienced cocksucker she is. Tears stream down her face as you fuck her mouth brutally.

"This is what you deserve," you growl, watching your cock disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "Being used like the worthless cocksleeve you are."

Ningning moans around your shaft, clearly loving the degradation. Her tongue works the underside of your cock as you thrust, adding to the pleasure despite your anger. Spit and pre-cum dribble down her chin.

You pull out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting your cock to her swollen lips. She gasps for air, face flushed and makeup smeared. "Thank you daddy," she pants. "Love choking on your big cock."

"Shut up," you snap, roughly flipping her onto her stomach. You grab her hips and pull them up, leaving her face pressed into the mattress with her ass in the air. The position strains her cuffed wrists but you don't care.

You tear her ruined thong off completely and spread her ass cheeks, exposing both her holes. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, cream coating her inner thighs. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red handprint.

"Look how wet you are, you fucking slut," you growl, running your fingers through her slick folds. "Getting off on being treated like garbage. Pathetic."

"Yes daddy, I'm pathetic! Please fuck this pathetic whore's pussy!" She pushes her hips back, trying to entice you.

You line your cock up with her entrance and thrust in balls deep in one brutal stroke. She screams into the mattress, her pussy clenching around your shaft. The wet heat of her cunt feels incredible.

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight," you grunt, starting to pound into her roughly. "Too bad it's attached to such a worthless excuse for a woman."

"Yes! Use my tight pussy!" she moans. "Fuck me harder daddy! Show me what a worthless whore I am!"

You grab her hair and pull her head back sharply as you continue drilling her pussy. The new angle lets you hit even deeper, making her whole body shake with each thrust.

"Is this what you wanted so much?" you growl in her ear. "To be fucked like the dirty slut you are? To have your pussy destroyed by another woman's man?"

"God yes! Love being your dirty little secret!" She pushes back to meet your thrusts. "I bet her fragile little heart couldn't handle those dirty words!"

You release her hair, letting her face fall back to the mattress. Your hands grip her hips bruisingly tight as you absolutely rail her pussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, along with her muffled moans and your grunts.

Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, cream coating your cock and balls. The obscene squelching sounds only fuel your anger - she's getting off so hard on being used like this.

You bring your hand down hard on her ass again and again, turning the flesh bright red. Each spank makes her clench around your cock as she cries out in pain and pleasure.

"Fucking whore," you pant as you pound her. "Taking my cock so well. Such a good little cumdump."

"Yes! I'm your whore! I belong to you. Your cumdump!" she babbles into the sheets. "Use me daddy! Wreck my pussy!"

You can feel her getting close, her walls fluttering around your shaft. But you're not ready to let her cum yet. You pull out suddenly, making her whine in protest.

"No! Please don't stop!" she begs. "I was so close!"

"Shut up," you snap, flipping her onto her back again. You grab her legs and push them up toward her chest, folding her nearly in half. "Remember this: you don't belong to me… And I'm not done using you yet."

You slam back into her pussy, somehow going even deeper in this position. She screams in pleasure as you resume fucking her brutally. Her tits bounce with each thrust, nipples still red and swollen from your earlier abuse.

"Look at you, taking my cock like a proper whore," you growl. "This is all you're good for - being a set of holes for me to fuck."

"Yes daddy! That's all I am!" She's nearly sobbing with pleasure now. "Just holes for you to use! Please don't stop!"

Your pace becomes punishing, hips snapping against her with bruising force. The headboard slams rhythmically against the wall as you pound her pussy. Sweat drips down your chest from the exertion.

"Gonna cum soon," she moans. "Please daddy, can I cum on your cock? Need it so bad!"

You wrap a hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to restrict her breathing. "You have to be a good girl if you want to cum."

The choking seems to drive her wild. Her pussy clenches around you even tighter as she gasps for air. You can feel her whole body trembling on the edge of orgasm.

"Please!" she begs when you ease the pressure on her throat. "Please let me cum daddy! I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" You slow your thrusts, making her whimper. "Even leave me and Minji alone?"

"N-no," she admits. "Can't give you up daddy. Need your cock too much."

You squeeze her throat again, harder this time. "Wrong answer, whore." You start pounding her pussy mercilessly, your own orgasm building.

"Sorry daddy!" she chokes out. "Please don't stop! Need to cum so bad!" The wet sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room along with her moans and whimpers. You could feel her getting close, walls fluttering around your cock. "Yes, yes yes! Gonna cum so hard for you!"

You keep the punishing rhythm, watching her writhe and arch closer to her peak. Her pussy drips, coating your cock in her arousal.

"That's it, Daddy, make me cum! I want to feel you fill me up when I do!"

But you have other plans. Just as her breathing hitches, her walls starting to spasm, you pull out completely. She cries out in frustrated protest.

"No! Please! I'm so close!"

You stroke your cock over her heaving body. "You don't deserve to cum, you manipulative bitch."

"Please! I need it! Need to feel you cum inside me!"

You aim your cock at her tits as your own orgasm builds. "The only thing you deserve is to be covered in my cum like the worthless slut you are."

She’s shaking, chest rising and falling as she watches, helpless. “No,” she whimpers, hips arching toward you, hands struggling against the cuffs. “Put it back in, Daddy, I need it-I need to cum- Cum with me, plea-” With a grunt, you explode over her perfect tits and stomach, thick ropes of cum painting her skin. She huffs in anger and frustration.

"You bastard! You ruined it on purpose!"

You get out of bed, satisfied with her denied pleasure. "I told you this was the last time. We're done."

She lies there panting, hands still cuffed above her head, covered in your seed. Her pussy is red and swollen from the rough fucking, cream still leaking out.

You unlock the handcuffs and start getting dressed without looking at her. The post-orgasm clarity brings the guilt crashing back full force.

You’re halfway into your shirt when her voice cuts through the room, honey-sweet and venomous.

"One week left." She leans back against the bed, crossing her arms with a satisfied smirk. "After that, I'm sending Minji a nice little video collection of us. And until then, you'll be here every night, and no more pranks on me!"

Your hands freeze mid-button, blood chilling. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Her eyes glint, sharp and dangerous. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been recording us. Why do you think I encouraged you to drink over and over again until you forgot your name?” She lets it sink in, enjoying every second you look at her like she’s lost her mind. “I’m not stupid, and I know you’ll try to crawl back to her. And knowing her, after so much crying, she might even give you another chance. But with some beautiful visual proof of how much you were loving cheating on her, she'll hardly forgive you. Not when she watches you cum in my pussy while I scream your name.”

The anger bubbling up feels like fire beneath your skin. “You’ve been recording us without telling me? You’re out of your fucking mind, Ning!”

“Oh, I’m the crazy one?” she sneers, voice dripping with mock innocence. “And what about you? Lying to Minji, sneaking around to fuck me late at night?” She steps closer, all her rage and bitterness on full display now. “Don’t act like you’re some victim. You wanted this. Now it’s gonna cost you.”

Your hands ball into fists, trying to keep your voice steady. “This is insane. You really think blackmail’s gonna make me stay?”

“I just want her to know the truth,” she laughs, almost sweetly. “I want her to see what kind of man she’s clinging to. I want her to see you for the liar you are. And maybe - just maybe - she’ll finally understand what it’s like to lose something she thought she owned.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit. “Minji never stole anything from you.”

She’s inches from you now, voice low and seething. “She stole everything,” she snaps, voice shaking with rage she’s clearly been holding back. “She was always the pretty one, the smart one, the good girl. The one everyone wanted to be around. And every time, people just forget about me.”

“That’s all in your head,” you say, shaking your head, voice cold. “Minji would never hurt you on purpose.”

“Please.” She snorts, a nasty smile twisting her lips. “She plays the innocent act so well, doesn’t she? Sweet Minji! Everyone’s favorite! But the second you walked into her life, she had to have you. Didn’t care that I liked you first!”

You laugh bitterly, stepping back. “You’re delusional.”

“Say what you want. You know I’m right.” She shrugs, looking at you like you’re a bug under her shoe. “Minji needs to learn what it feels like to be humiliated. And if you don’t break things off, she’s gonna get a front-row seat.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “This is all about you. About your fucking ego. You don’t give a damn about me or what happens to her.”

“Believe whatever makes you sleep at night.” She gives you a saccharine smile. “One week. I want you here tomorrow at this same time. And I think you better make me have at least four orgasms to make up for the anger you made me feel tonight... Now get the fuck out of here - I need to make myself cum!”

—

The next few days are exactly the same. You can barely eat or focus at work. You just don't sleep anymore. Minji notices something is wrong but you brush off her concerns, saying you're just stressed about a project.

Ningning keeps showing up at your apartment unannounced, finding excuses to touch you and whisper dirty things when Minji isn't looking. And at night? Well, there you are, in Ningning's room, fulfilling her whims, helpless and at the mercy of a maniac girl. During these days you couldn't find a way to tell Minji the truth. You know it will be the end of your relationship. Damn, you know this will destroy her, and there's no way this ends well, but even so, you keep putting off the truth... Suffering for the inevitable.

You feel like you're going insane.

Finally, the deadline arrives. You're sitting on the couch with Minji when her phone chimes with multiple notifications. "Why the hell is Ning sending me so many messages?” she asks with a chuckle, glancing at her phone's locked screen, showing only the number of messages and the sender. Your heart stops - you know what Ningning has sent.

"Wait," you grab Minji's wrist before she can check the messages. "I need to tell you something first."

She looks at you with concern. "What's wrong? You've been acting so strange lately."

You take a deep breath, knowing these next words will shatter her world. "I... I've been sleeping with Ning."

The color drains from Minji's face. "What?"

"It started when you were away. I was drunk and upset after our fight, and she was there..." You try to explain but the words sound hollow even to your own ears.

"How long?" Minji whispers, tears filling her eyes.

"A month. It... it kept happening. She threatened to tell you if I didn't leave you for her. I'm so sorry, Minji. I never meant-"

"My best friend?" she cuts you off, voice breaking. "How could you do this to me? Both of you?"

Her phone continues to buzz as Ningning sends video after video. Minji's hands tremble as she unlocks her phone and begins scrolling through the videos and photos.

“Babe, don't look…”

"How could you?" she asks, her voice breaking. "With my best friend? In our bed?"

"Minji, I'm so sorry," you start, but she cuts you off with a slap across your face.

"Don't!" she screams, stumbling backward. She throws her phone at the couch with such force that it bounces and falls to the floor. "Don't you dare apologize! When did this start?"

"Three days after you traveled," you admit, your cheek stinging. "It just happened, and then-"

"It just happened?" she laughs hysterically. "What, you just accidentally fell into her pussy? Multiple times?"

She picks up the phone from the floor, scrolling through more of the photos Ningning is still sending. "Oh my god, the kitchen counter? Where I make breakfast every morning? Our fucking couch?"

Her breathing becomes erratic, and she clutches her chest. You step forward in concern, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

"Don't touch me," she gasps. "I can't... I can't breathe…”

She stands up shakily, pressing a hand to her chest. Her breathing becomes labored and her face contorts in pain.

"Minji?" Panic grips you as she suddenly collapses. You catch her before she hits the ground, frantically calling her name as you dial the emergency number.

The next hours are a nightmare of hospital corridors and worried doctors. Minji's parents arrive and bar you from her room, though you can hardly blame them.

—

Days pass in a haze of guilt and worry. You call the hospital constantly for updates, but they won't tell you anything since you're not family.

Finally, after a week, you get a text from Minji herself.

"You can come see me. Room 412."

Your hands shake as you drive to the hospital. When you reach her room, you almost turn back, but you force yourself to knock.

"Come in," her voice calls weakly.

She's propped up in the hospital bed, looking small and pale against the white sheets. There are monitors beeping steadily beside her, IV lines running into her arm. The sight breaks your heart.

"Hi," you say softly, hovering by the door.

"Sit," she indicates the chair beside her bed. When you do, she studies your face for a long moment. "You look terrible."

"I haven't been sleeping." You lean forward, elbows on your knees. "Minji, I am so, so sorry-"

"Stop." She holds up a hand, just like before. "I don't want your apologies right now. I want answers."

You nod, prepared to tell her everything.

"Why?" she asks first. "Did I do something that ended up hurting you?"

“This has nothing to do with you," you admit. "I take full blame. Ning came to visit me as you asked, I was drunk, lonely and sad. She kissed me and I... I didn't stop her."

“If I'd called earlier and said I was sorry for the fight, would it have changed anything?”

“Minji, this-”

“Answer me with yes or no!” she exclaims and soon begins to cough.

“... Maybe. But it's absolutely not your fault."

“How many times did you fuck her?”

"It happened maybe... Twelve or thirteen times." Each admission feels like ripping open a wound. "She would come over, saying she missed me, and then..."

"And then you'd fuck her," Minji finishes flatly. "In our home. In our bed. While I was thousands of miles away, sick and missing you."

"Yes." There's nothing else to say.

"Did you think about me? When you were inside her, did you think about how this would destroy me?"

"I tried not to think at all," you whisper. "I knew it was wrong, but she kept coming back, threatening to tell you if I didn't keep seeing her."

“Let me see the messages.”

You hand her your phone and everything is there, from the first threatening messages to the most recent ones, the nudes, the multiple missed calls early in the morning, the promises… There was a certain obsession in it all, which made Minji feel bad, returning the phone to you in disgust.

"So you were protecting me, huh?" Minji laughs bitterly. "How noble of you."

"No, I was being a coward," you admit. "I was weak and selfish and I destroyed the best thing in my life because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants."

She flinches at your crude words but doesn't disagree.

"Do you love her?"

"No," you say immediately. "God no, Minji. I love you. Only you! What happened with Ning was just sex, just a horrible mistake that I would give anything to take back."

"But you can't take it back," she says quietly. "You can't undo what you did to me, to us."

Tears start falling down your face. "I know. But please, please give me a chance to make it right. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" She looks at you with those dark eyes that used to hold so much love. Now they're full of pain and disappointment. "Would you get on your knees right now and beg?"

Without hesitation, you slide out of the chair onto your knees beside her bed. "Yes. I'll beg, I'll crawl, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to you if you'll let me."

"I heard that conversation of yours," she says suddenly. “When you were talking to your mother on the phone about marrying me."

Your heart stops. You were planning to buy an engagement ring next year.

"I would be so happy," she continues, voice breaking. "I spent that whole month dreaming about our wedding, our future together. And the whole time, you were fucking my best friend in our bed."

"I'm sorry," you sob, grabbing her hand. "I'm so sorry, Minji. Please don't give up on us. Please give me one more chance."

She lets you hold her hand for a moment before pulling away. "I need time," she says finally. "When I get out of here, I don't want you at the apartment. I need space to think."

"Of course," you agree quickly. "Whatever you need. I'll stay with a friend."

"I'm not promising anything," she warns. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. But... I still love you. God help me, I still love you."

"I love you too, baby," you whisper. "More than anything. I'll wait as long as it takes."

She nods, then closes her eyes. "I don't want you to call me baby. It's disgusting now... I'm getting tired. You should go."

You stand reluctantly, wanting to say more but respecting her wishes. At the door, you turn back.

"Minji? What about Ning?"

Her face hardens. "She was here a few hours ago. We had a private conversation about our friendship. Things that only concern the two of us. Of course, I never want to see her again."

You nod and leave, hope and despair warring in your chest.

—

Outside, the air feels harsh, almost judging, as if the world itself knows what you’ve done.

In the parking lot you see her: Ningning, draped across the hood of your car, wearing a tight red dress that seems inappropriate for a hospital visit. She flashes that sly, knowing grin, like she’s already the winner, already got you tangled in her web.

“Took you long enough,” she purrs, reaching for you, fingertips grazing your chest. “Now we don’t have to hide.”

You step back, swatting her hand away. “No. This isn’t happening anymore. We’re done.”

She laughs, a low, dark sound that echoes in the empty parking lot. “Oh, come on. Are you really going to give up on us just because you had a sad little chat with her?” Her eyes flash with that dangerous mix of pride and amusement. “I know it must have been hard. But now we can be happy together...”

“It was a mistake,” you say, cold. “I betrayed her for what? A few nights of-”

“Of what? Say it,” she cuts you off, stepping closer. “Of something you couldn’t resist? Or are you too much of a coward to admit it? We both know you wanted this as much as I did. You loved every second of it.”

“I don’t want it anymore. Don’t want you anymore.”

She laughs again. “You’re a goddamn hypocrite. You want to play the martyr now, pretend you’re a good guy?” She leans in, her face inches from yours, breath hot on your skin. “Please, you’re still that same bastard who kept crawling back for more. Don’t act like you’re suddenly above it.”

Her words make you want to flinch, but you stand your ground, hands clenched tight. “Maybe I was. But I’m done now. I don’t need you. I need to fix what I broke.”

“Wow, So is she willing to give you another chance? Okay, quite predictable. But you know why she didn’t yell, why she didn’t throw shit at you in there? Because she fucking knows she deserved it,” Ningning starts, her expression is kind of scary, as if she knows all the secrets of the world. “Yeah, she sat there, looking all wounded and pure, but don’t let that act fool you. She knew. She’s known all along, even if she’ll never say it out loud.”

You try to interject, but Ningning cuts you off, her voice rising, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t give me that look! I'm not crazy! I saw it in her eyes when I walked in. That flicker of guilt, like she’s been caught, like she’s thinking, ‘Maybe I had this coming.’ Because guess what? She fucking did. She knew I loved you first. I’ve loved you since before she even knew your fucking name.”

She takes a step closer, jabbing a finger at your chest. “Do you know what it was like? Watching her swoop in with her sweet little smile, acting like she was all innocent and shy, when really, she was stealing what was mine? And I said nothing. I stood back, swallowed it, because, what, I was supposed to be the bigger person? Fuck that! She knew how I felt, and she still went for it. And she got you. She fucking won.”

Ningning’s voice cracks, but she pushes through. “And don’t think for a second she’s blameless. She played her part in this. She played you, she played me, and now she’s sitting up there in that hospital bed, acting like she’s some goddamn victim. But deep down, she knows. She knows she took something she never had a right to. And now? Now, she’s paying for it.”

Her words hang heavy in the air, and she exhales, running a hand through her hair like she’s trying to keep herself from spiraling further. “But the difference between me and her? I fucking own it. I wanted you, and I took you. I don’t hide behind some bullshit innocence or play the martyr. I go for what I want, and yeah, maybe that makes me the bad guy, but at least I’m honest about it.”

She gives you one last look, as if she's hoping that now you finally understand everything, her voice dropping, quieter now, but no less cutting. “She won’t admit it, but she knows. She deserved every second of this. But you know Minji. She’d rather die than let you see that, let you think for one second that she’s anything less than perfect.”

"You need help, Ning, you've created a whole fantasy in your head. Do you think you're that special to make Minji plot against you like this?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Unbelievable. You’re pathetic. How can you be so blind and not see the truth? I'm trying to help you make the right fucking choice.” She spits the words at you like daggers. “You and I… we’re the same, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You shake your head, ignoring the pang her words bring. “We’re not the same, Ning. Not anymore.”

“You think you can just walk away from this? From me?”

“Watch me,” you mutter, yanking the car door open. The finality in your voice is ironclad, leaving no room for argument.

“You’ll be back,” she hisses. “You'll miss me when you realize who Minji really is. But then it'll be too late...”

But you don’t look at her as you drive off, leaving her alone in the parking lot.

And that was the last time you saw her.

—

Two months pass slowly. You move in with your friend, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about the mess you've made of your life. Ningning continues to send threatening messages, until you finally block her for good.

Finally, one rainy evening, your phone rings. It's Minji.

"Can we meet?" she asks without preamble. "Tomorrow at the café where we had our first date?"

Your heart races. "Yes, of course. What time?"

"Noon," she says, then hangs up.

You barely sleep that night, alternating between hope and dread. When you arrive at the café the next day, you're thirty minutes early. You order her favorite drink - vanilla latte with an extra shot - and wait.

She arrives exactly at noon, looking beautiful in a simple sundress. Your breath catches at the sight of her. She's gained back the weight she lost in the hospital, her cheeks rosy with health.

"Hi," she says, sliding into the seat across from you.

"Hi," you respond, pushing her coffee towards her. "I got your usual."

A small smile flickers across her face. "You remembered."

"I remember everything about you," you say softly.

She takes a sip of coffee, gathering her thoughts. "I've been doing a lot of thinking these past two months," she begins. "About us, about what happened, about what I want."

You wait, hardly breathing.

"I'm still angry," she continues. "I'm still hurt. What you did... it broke something in me that might never fully heal."

"I know," you whisper. "I hate myself for hurting you."

"But I've realized something," she says, meeting your eyes. "I don't want to hate you. I don't want to let what happened destroy all the good memories we have, all the love we shared."

"What are you saying...?"

"I'm saying... I think I can forgive you. Not completely, not yet. But I want to try."

Tears fill your eyes. "Really?"

"But," she holds up a hand, "there have to be conditions. First, we start as friends only. No romance, no sex, no pressure. We need to rebuild trust before anything else. If it doesn't feel right, then you'll disappear from my life."

You nod eagerly. "Of course. I'll do whatever you want, all at your own pace."

"Second, complete honesty from now on. About everything. One more lie and we're done forever."

"Absolutely," you agree. "I promise."

"And third," her voice hardens, "Ning is out of our lives completely. I'm sure she's still trying to contact you."

You pull out your phone and show her how you've blocked Ningning's number. "Already done. I haven't spoken to her since the hospital. She was waiting for me in the parking lot, thinking that suddenly we would be together."

Minji nods, satisfied. "She tried to convince me that you two were in love."

"What did you say?"

"I told her I saw the messages she sent you, threatening to tell me if you didn't keep sleeping with her." Minji's voice is cold. "She's not innocent. You're both guilty. But you told me you don't love her... Guess I can believe that for now. Oh, and after her mask fell off, I managed to convince her to delete all the videos she had recorded. I think the sight of me in a hospital bed touched her a little bit. No need to thank me."

You hang your head, shame burning through you.

"And," Minji continues, "you told me the truth before she could expose you. That counts for something, I guess."

"I should have told you sooner," you admit. "I was just so scared of losing you."

"And you almost did," she says quietly. "My heart literally couldn't take it."

You reach across the table, hesitantly taking her hand. When she doesn't pull away, you squeeze gently.

"I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you," you promise. "If you'll let me."

She looks at your joined hands for a long moment. "We'll see," she says finally. "One day at a time."

You spend the next hour talking - really talking - about everything that happened. She tells you how betrayed she felt, how the thought of you with Ningning still makes her physically ill. You tell her about the guilt that's been eating you alive, the sleepless nights spent hating yourself.

“I was looking at some wedding rings during my trip, just dreaming…” she says suddenly, catching you off-guard. “I was so happy, you know? Because I thought… I thought I’d found the one I wanted.” Her voice cracks, and she swallows, steadying herself.

The words sink deep, and your chest tightens. “Maybe someday… if we get there again, I’ll buy you the most beautiful ring in the world.”

She gives you a small smile. "One day at a time, remember?"

When it's time to leave, you walk her to her car. Before she gets in, she turns to you.

"I'm having dinner with my parents tomorrow night," she says. "Would you like to come?"

Your heart leaps. Her parents have refused to speak to you since the hospital. "Are you sure?"

She nods. "They need to see that I'm choosing to try again with you. It won't be easy - they hate you right now. But if we're going to move forward, they need to accept it."

"I'll be there," you promise. "Thank you, Minji. For giving me another chance."

She reaches up and touches your face softly - the first intimate contact she's initiated in two months.

"Don't make me regret it," she whispers, then gets in her car and drives away.

You watch until her car disappears around the corner, hope filling your chest for the first time in months. You know the road ahead will be difficult. Trust, once broken, is hard to rebuild. But you'll do whatever it takes to prove to Minji that her faith in you isn't misplaced.

Your phone buzzes - a text from an unknown number.

"Everything I did, I did for you," the message reads. "Hope you are happy with your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you."

You delete the message without responding and block the new number.

She'll have to give up at some point.

The only person you belong to now is Minji - if she'll have you.

As you walk to your car, you start planning how to win back not just Minji's trust, but her heart. It won't be easy, but nothing worth having ever is. And Minji is worth everything.

[gojonanami]

IS IT OVER NOW? - SUGURU GETO (ft. SATORU GOJO)

summary: suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend. contents: 18+ only, smut, mentions of cheating, swearing, spoilers for vol. 0 + star plasma vessel and premature death arc, so much angst, but also too much smut (gotta earn that smut by getting through the angst), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f + m receiving), slight choking, panty play, overstimulation (f receiving) wc: 11,150 (why do i do this) playlist: is it over now - taylor swift, now that we don't talk - taylor swift, you are in love - taylor swift, say don't go - taylor swift

“It’s over,” the words slipped out of his mouth like second nature, the same way “I love yous” left his lips with a smile against your neck, but now those same lips were in a tight line. His eyes once filled with mirth, now stared at you with nothing in them — nothing but empty truth. 

You don’t believe your ears ��� and how could you? The same man who laid with you on sleepless nights, in the silence of the way home after brutal losses, mornings spent in his wrinkled uniform white button up, stupid arguments ended in laughter, and the whispered promises kept like oaths in your hearts. 

But now, they were broken — broken like your heart was. 

“It’s over, I’m sorry — I can’t do this anymore,” and you’re stepping forward over this ravine with a snapping tightrope, but he’s on the other side with a lighter and a knife — daring you to cross it. Because he wouldn’t catch you — not anymore, “it’s not you—“ 

“Don’t give me bullshit assurances, Suguru,” you spit, the same name you had woken up this morning on your lips, all the love he had fostered over two and half years eroding away with his few words — slipping into hatred without another word, “give me a reason, I know Amanai and Haibara hurt you — hell, it hurt me too, but—“ 

“Don’t bring them up—“ he seethes, the same passion he once had for you — for even a scratch you had gotten from a mission that he promised to make a curse pay for again and again by making it serve him — now used for people who weren’t even here anymore, “it has nothing to do with them,” 

And you almost laugh. It had everything to do with them. You had watched him fall apart over this summer — scapegoat the summer heat to Satoru’s face, when it wasn’t the heat that was withering him to nothing — a wilting flower simmered under the heat of loss. And with no one who could reach him — because he wouldn’t let them. 

“You know that’s not true—” 

“I cheated on you,” and the words die on your lips — along with any hope you had, “it was a stupid mistake but it showed me we can’t keep doing this,” 

“You’re lying,” you denied it — no, no, no.  

“I’m not,” and you can’t make sense of it, sense of anything, images of him tangled with another assaulting your senses — assaulting your heart, your soul, your body — bile rising in your throat that seared you on the way down as you swallow, “I didn’t want to have to tell you, but if it’s the only way for you to accept this, so be it,” 

“Fuck off, you didn’t want to ‘have to tell me,’” hot, angry tears burning at your eyes, “fuck you,” 

“Sweet—“ 

“You don’t get to call me that,” you snarl, heart rattling your ribs, as if it was trying to break through its bony cage, as if puncturing itself on the shards of your bones would hurt less, “not unless you’re trying to fix this,” you bargain, bargain for a love that was already lost. 

“We can’t do this — I can’t do this to you,” and you give a watery chuckle, unable to meet his gaze; meet the gaze you once thought was your salvation — the thing you fought day in and day out to come home to, “I’m sorr—” 

“Don’t bother,” you bottle the sadness  in a barely kept shut box, shoved beneath your icy exterior, ice crawling over the recesses of your shattered soul, “don’t apologize for me for something you chose to do,” and you turn to walk away. 

“Where are you going?” 

And you give a terse chuckle, turning to look back, “you don’t get to care anymore, Geto.” 

~~~ 

It was necessary. It was necessary. It was necessary. 

That’s what Suguru keeps telling himself. He was caught in a tailspin, a tailspin that was only leading him one place, and he couldn’t take you with him. He couldn’t let that happen. But you keep haunting his thoughts, along with the other ghosts holed up in his head. 

He hasn’t seen you in weeks. Only sporadic updates from Shoko when she humored his questions with a bribe of free cigarettes — and he didn’t know what you had told her but he knew you hadn’t told her that he had cheated (because Shoko would have surely ignored him). Shoko had even snuck a picture of you. You had grown your hair out, eyes no longer full of the joy as it once had been, and a cigarette you had said you had sworn you would never smoke between your lips. 

And it only makes him want to pull the cigarette from your lips and kiss you again, swallow the smoke poisoning your lungs, hoping your lips would clear the poison from his system. But he couldn’t — he couldn’t go back now. Not when he couldn’t shake the darkness that crept over his soul — he couldn't go back to that spring, because those old days had died along with everyone else around him. Shot through the head just like Amanai. 

He stares at the picture and it only makes him more sure — he can’t be in your life. He can’t be yours, he can’t even be your friend — because he can’t pretend it’s just platonic — can’t pretend it means nothing — not when you can see right through him, see the light fading from inside him, and you’d try to save him. Because that’s what you do. So he pays the cost instead, the cost of losing you — of losing your smiles, your laughs, your tears, and your voice. 

And he didn’t even have his dignity — he had left that behind when he had lied to your face. Lied because he knew it was the only way you’d leave, and he couldn’t risk you staying. He couldn’t let your fingers dig into his sides, as he let himself drown, he couldn’t watch you choke on water along with him — no, no, it couldn’t happen. 

He had long drowned — on that beach in Okinawa. 

He got a phone call — Yaga — likely with another mission, and he only can think about Tsukomo’s words — over and over and over. He was treating the symptoms, eradicating curses day in and day out, he himself was a symptom of a broken system — a broken sorcerer. 

And he flips his phone open, staring at the screensaver of you and him, your sleepy smile as you look up at the camera nuzzled against his chest — filled with the same love in your eyes that he watched drain from your eyes when he fed you perfectly prepared lies. 

“Hello, yes, I’m available for a mission,” he hears Yaga give him the details of the mission on the other line, but it barely registers. 

But at least he wouldn’t break you too.  

~~~

You wake to a pounding at the door — the one time you had gotten time off, the one time you had taken the vacation you swore you would, the vacation that you would have your phone off, doors locked, no communication with anyone with Jujutsu Tech. 

And yet. 

There was someone banging on your door at 11:09 PM at night. 

You stare at your ceiling at the spinning fan above you, and you couldn’t imagine how this night could get any worse. You throw off your covers, only in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, grumbling as you meander your way to the door to find Satoru, standing at your doorstep. 

Your heart drops. 

“What— did—“ 

“Suguru defected,” and you stare at him, as if he’s speaking a foreign language — two words made no sense in that order, no, no — he wouldn’t do that. Suguru out of anyone wouldn’t do that.  

“No, that can’t—“ and Satoru comes inside, brushing past you, “Satoru—“ 

“It’s not just that,” he says softly, “he slaughtered a village, and his parents,” and you’re shaking your head, “why are you shaking your head—“ 

“What kind of weird prank is this, Satoru— he wouldn’t—“ and your voice dies in his throat as you see the look on his face, and all other words fade away from your lips except one —  “why?” 

And he explains — tells you what Suguru had told him, what had happened, why he left — “I couldn’t bring myself to kill him,” he murmurs, shaking his head, “I should have — if I had done what he did, Suguru wouldn’t have hesitated—“ 

“He wouldn’t have been able to do that to you, Satoru,” you scoff, leaning against your couch, Satoru sat beside you, “you’re the most important person to him, he wouldn’t have been able to even fathom the idea of hurting you. He would have just tried to convince you to change your mind,” 

He gives a bitter chuckle, “Well then, he would have been able to change my mind all the same,” he’s holding his face, as if it would keep himself from falling to pieces — but his hands are too late — you can see the broken pieces of what was Satoru Gojo in front of you. 

“Satoru, you can’t put Suguru upon yourself to save — he made the choices he made, you can’t change them. You can’t fix a person who doesn’t want to be fixed,” and maybe you were projecting — but you swore you saw the same pain, the same pain the day he broken your heart in Satoru’s eyes, “Suguru is smart enough to know where this road is leading—” 

“And why can’t I completely blame him for choosing it?” he murmurs, his cerulean eyes finally meeting yours over the rim of his sunglasses, “I understand how he feels — so do you, you’ve seen the broken system, the deaths that could have been prevented—” 

“But is this the way to fix it with innocent peoples’ blood on our hands?” you whisper, almost afraid to hear his answer, “I have friends who aren’t sorcerers — would he have me slaughter them too?” 

“Well, he killed his own parents, so I wouldn’t doubt that,” he shakes his head, “Suguru was never the type to do things half-heartedly,” and his gaze falls again to the floor, “do you know after I had retrieved Amanai’s body — I asked Suguru if we should kill all of those people in the Star Religious Group?” 

“Satoru—” 

“He said there would be no point in it — no reason,” and he’s licking his lips, pulling his glasses off, “but he found his reason now, didn’t he?” 

“Satoru, you had just come off Amanai, almost dying, you had barely a moment to process—” 

“Why did he tell me to stop? Why did he save me when he couldn’t do himself the same courtesy?” And he’s rising to his feet, pacing the room, unable to sit still, “I thought I’d come here and talk to you because who else could understand him more than me? Shoko maybe, but even she doesn’t know,” his fists are clenched at his sides, as he whirls to face you again, “Why? I don’t understand how a person can change so much — how can you go from protecting the weak to—” 

“Satoru, I don’t know why Suguru does the things he does—did you forget? He broke up with me,” the words reopen old wounds you thought had long scarred over, flesh wounds that had ripped you open, but had closed back up, now bleeding like new, “and he cheated on me,” and walked away without another word — twisting the knife with his silence. 

Satoru’s brows knit together, his mouth opening as if to dispute it, but closing again — because if Suguru could murder his own parents, why wouldn’t he cheat on his girlfriend? 

“I’m sorry—” and you laugh bitterly, meeting his gaze. 

“I think we have bigger problems than his unfaithfulness,” and he says nothing, “what are we going to do about him?” 

“Nothing—” 

You stare at him, lips parted, “Satoru—” 

“I can’t kill him,” his voice breaks, and it breaks you too,  “I couldn’t bear it. I can’t be the one to—” 

“But you’re the only one who can—” and you swallow the lump in your throat — how could you tell him to kill Suguru when you couldn’t imagine doing it either? “then what do we do?” 

“Nothing, for now,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “I’ll monitor his moves as best I can, he’s good at covering his tracks — he knows how I operate more than anyone else does,” he says softly, “but not many can hide from the six eyes,” 

“And you know how he does things too, Satoru,” you find your way his side, your fingers finding his, “it will take time for Suguru to make large moves — especially if he has two young children with him right now,” your heart aches at the thought — he promised to marry you one day, promised you a family once you both had settled down enough to consider it, and now he had two kids. But you weren’t with him. 

His eyes find yours, “i’m sorry about what happened — I wasn’t there — I haven’t been here, at all—” 

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Satoru,” and he’s shaking his head. 

“Maybe I could have—” 

“You can’t fix the whole world, Satoru,” you whisper gently, “you’re the strongest, yes, but that doesn't mean you can be everywhere and do everything,” 

“I should have been here,” and you’re shaking your head, “I could’ve—” 

“You couldn’t have, do you know how stubborn Suguru is? We couldn’t even convince him to cut his hair, much less change his mind about committing mass murder,” and he sighs, his eyes falling and rising to yours again, “hey, you’re okay, you know. You do too much, honestly, everything you’ve done — everything you will do—” 

“And yet it will never feel like enough,” and you feel as if you could hear the same words leaving Suguru’s mouth too — the two had more in common than they had cared to admit. 

“You are enough,” and your fingers find his cheek, “just as Satoru, you are,” 

And his arms are pulling you into a hug then, head buried in your shoulder, his body consuming you with its warmth, your fingers running through his snowy locks, his tears wetting your shirt, but you say nothing, only holding him.

He pulls back after a few minutes, but his arms still wrapped around you, as he stares at you, barely any evidence of his tears, except for the redness on the tip of his nose, “You’re enough too,” 

“I don’t know about that,” you joke, and he’s cutting you off with sharp words and a sharper look. 

“You are, sweetheart,” and the familiar pet name makes your heart ache, “you’re more than enough,” and his palm is resting against his cheek, thumb rubbing the length of your cheek, “you’re so much more than you even know,” 

And your breath catches as he draws near, “Satoru—” you shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. But why did his hands feel so nice against your cheeks? Why were you melting into his touch? Why didn’t you pull away? 

“I just want to feel something else,” his hand is sliding into your hair, fingers pressed against your neck, “don’t you?” 

And your lips find his first, lips brushing at first — and he’s so soft, his breath catching when you do, your fingers against his cheeks, and he’s pulling you back in again — it’s gravity. Again and again your lips meet, less hesitant with each kiss and each touch. 

This shouldn’t be happening. You needed to stop it — Suguru had always teased that his best friend had a thing for you — hell, Satoru had all but admitted it with teasing words and promises to steal you away if Suguru ever had fumbled your relationship. But you knew he’d never would do it. 

Or you thought he never would do it. 

His hands slide down your body, pulling your hips closer to his, “tell me stop, if you want me to,” he murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I want—” 

And you’re kissing him again, pulling him along your living room to your bedroom, “I don’t want to stop,” you breathe, you want something else, you want Suguru’s touch cleansed from your body, you want something more — you want to be wanted.

It had been so long since you had been wanted. The last few months with Suguru felt like an exercise in futility. You barely saw him, much less touched him — mission after mission, and excuse after excuse, piled onto the pyre waiting to burn your love for him alive. How long had it been since you had even kissed him? Each time you tried would end in him pulling away, shaking his head and telling you he was tired. 

And he was. He was tired — tired of his work, tired of jujutsu society, and tired of you. 

But he didn’t have the courtesy to let you know. 

But Satoru…

His fingers are quick to get you naked, deftly pulling your t-shirt over your head, as your fingers tug his jacket off with the same eagerness, “Eager, are we?” he murmurs, half hearted teasing, a ghost of a smile on his lips as you pout, “don’t worry, I am too, baby,” as your fingers tug his sunglasses off, and place them on your nightstand. 

You roll your eyes, “Satoru—” and he’s swallowing your retort with his lips — and you can’t help but compare them in your mind, he was so much more aggressive than Suguru was. Suguru’s hands slid over your hips and thighs as if he had all the time in the world, while Satoru’s clung to you desperately, as if you’d dissipate under his fingertips, “should we be doing this? Suguru—“ 

“Cheated. Murdered. Left us,” And his lips slide from his lips to your jaw, before his teeth graze right under your jaw, drawing a gasp from your lips.

And his lips curl, “Such a pretty noise, just f’me,” and he’s biting and sucking, surely leaving a lovely mark against your skin, his tongue tracing over the mark, “did you make noises like that for Suguru?” 

“Satoru—” and his fingers are tugging at your bra, teasing your erect nipples as he’s only tugging the garment down, “fuck—” and his lips kiss your tit, while he’s rolling the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “please,” 

“Did you beg him like that too?” his fingers pull at the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin underneath, “no wonder Suguru kept you for yourself,” he’s tugging off your shorts down your legs. 

“Can we not talk about him if we aren’t gonna talk—” and his lips find yours again, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, “Satoru—” you gasp as he pulls at your lip, thumb sliding over the kiss bitten flesh. 

“How can we not?” he murmurs, as his hands slide up your thighs to squeeze your ass, “is this the bed he fucked you on? Is this the way he touched you?” and he’s parting your thighs, large palms holding you apart, as his half lidded eyes linger on the wet patch on your panties, “is this how wet you got for him? Am I special?” 

“Oh, fuck off—” and your words fall away as his finger presses against the wet patch, thumb against your puffy clit while his fingers tease your aching cunt. 

“What was that, baby?” and he’s grinning, and he spares you, dragging your ruined underwear down, and he’s leaning down to your sopping pussy only to press teasing kisses to your inner thigh, before his lips press against your clit, “so fucking wet,” and he inhales, a languid moan leaving his lips, “if you taste as good as you smell, I’ll be cumming in my pants before I even fuck your pretty cunt,” 

And his fingers sink into you — two at once, making your lips part, teasing your pussy open, the lewd sounds fill your ears as your slick squelches against his fingers, “Hear that? Such a greedy cunt, swallowing my fingers up even when I try to pull out,” and he’s pumping faster now, fingers curling against your walls, making you moan far too loudly, “moaning like that, and I’ve barely even started,” he hums, before his breath is warming your slick cunt as a warning as his tongue begins to lap at your clit, again and again. 

“Fuck, Toru, need more—” His other hand is only grabbing you, pulling you impossibly closer as a third finger finds its way into you, and your hips move against his touch, begging him to fuck you in earnest. But he’s unrelenting. You can hear him swallow around you, every flutter of your cunt made just for him, as he nearly growls against you, vibrations only making you nearly grind yourself against his fingers and mouth.  His tongue circles your clit, toying with it, before his lips close over it and suck, nearly making you scream, “I’m cummin—” 

And his fingers finally find the spot they had been looking for, again and again with deft precision, as your walls clench around his fingers, as you gasp, arching your back, as you cum, and he’s licking your essence up eagerly. 

Grinning as he pulls his fingers from you, licking your cum from his digits, before lapping at your leaking cunt, making you twitch around nothing, “Fuck, needy pussy practically begging me to fill you, huh? Hehehe,” he’s looking up at you all fucked out, your thighs twitching, eyes blown out — meanwhile his lips, chin, and nose were painted in your essence, the most beautiful work of art you’d ever seen, “didn’t realize how much I wanted this,” and he’s licking up your cum off his face, and wiping the rest on the back of his hand, and he’s climbing back over you, dragging his clothed bulge over your still sensitive cunt, making you both groan, “and I guess neither did you,” 

You’re still looking up at him with lust filled eyes, as your fingers find his cheeks, “aren’t you wearing far too many clothes still?” and he’s smiling, “wanna help me out with that, sweetheart?” he asks, as his fingers press your boobs together, thumbs flicking against the abused nipples, cock twitching against your cunt as if he was imaging what it would feel like to blow his load right between them, his warm cum all over your face— 

And you’re flipping him in a moment, pinned underneath you, as your fingers undo each button of his now definitely creased white button up, damp with your cum, as your palms drag over the exposed skin of his chest and abs, “Can’t wait to fuck myself on this later,” you murmur, leaning down to drag your tongue up his stomach, making him gasp deliciously, before your fingers busy themselves with undoing his belt, the click of the buckle only making you ache more, as you undo the zipper of his pants, tugging his boxers along with them to bunch at his feet hanging off your too small of a bed, and you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips. 

He’s so fucking big. 

Suguru was big, so fucking big that the first time he fucked you, he couldn’t even fit in your tight cunt. He had to give you multiple orgasms, prep you right, stretching you out with his fingers and tongue, and even a dildo, until you could fit himself with lube. And Satoru definitely wasn’t as thick as Suguru, but he made up for that in length ��� fuck, how deep would that reach? A pretty curve at the end with lovely veins running up that made your mouth water, white pubes dotting along it that were shaved, but grown out — likely from being away on missions for so long. 

“You can take a picture, it’d last longer,” and your eyes snap up to the smirk on his lips, “although I tend to last very long,” he’s shrugging out of his shirt and kicking off his pants, before he’s pinning you under him again, “and if you do, maybe I can take a picture of you, full of my cum, my cock fucking it back in — it’s only fair, right, pretty?” and you shiver, as his finally unclothed cock bumps against your cunt, “oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I’ll make it my screensaver, you’d like wouldn’t you, filthy girl?” 

And your fingers wrap around his cock, finally making him shut up with a hiss, “Gonna talk all night, or you gonna fuck me, Toru?” and he barks out a laugh, but it's consumed by a moan as you stroke him, leaning up to kiss along his jaw, “you gonna fuck the same hole your best friend did? Gonna cum there too?” and he’s thickly swallowing, your words leaving the great Satoru Gojo speechless, “what? If you brought up Suguru, so can I, right? Only fair,” you echo his words, and you’re squeezing around the base of him, “well, are you—” 

And he’s pulling your hand away, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock, dragging his pre-cum over your cunt, letting your cum mix together, “Fuuuuuck, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous,” and he’s manhandling you, grabbing your thighs, and hooking your ankles over his shoulders, “gonna fuck you now, sweetheart, any complaints?” 

He grins at the way you shake your head eagerly, hips nearly grinding against his cock, and his tip sinks past your walls, “so tight, baby, did Suguru not fuck you right?” You can’t manage a reply, as you grasp at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as he sinks into you inch by inch, his brow furrowed beautifully as he finally bottoms out with a groan, “s’good f’me, so perfect—“ your walls flutter around him, your slick soaking him, and he’s tilting your head by your chin to make you look at where he’s sunk into you. 

And he’s pulling out before sinking back in, and you’re gasping and squeezing him — how was he possibly deeper? “Fuck, baby, your cunt is trying snap me half,” and his hips are slapping against you as he fucks you in earnest, the squeaks of your mattress as he thrusts in and out and the lewd squelch of your pussy as it wraps around every inch and vein of his cock, “that’s it, that’s it, take me, take every inch of me,” and his balls are slapping against your ass, “did you take Suguru this well? Did you ever take anyone this well?”

And you’re a mess of just moans as he’s fucking you again and again, as he cups your chin, “I didn’t hear an answer or did the I fuck the words out of you too, baby?” He’s kissing you again, swallowing your noises with lips curled, before he’s pulling away with a groan, “can’t hear myself think with how loud you are — so fucking wet,” 

“S’close, Toru, I-“ and he’s grunting, nodding, as he watches you, his cerulean eyes stare at you, right as his tip brushes your cervix— 

“Cum for me baby, let me watch you cum around my cock,” and his fingers reach down between the two of you and rub against your clit, making your eyes roll back, as you fall apart around him. 

Your walls are fluttering around him as you cum, moaning his name on your lips, as he pistons in and out again and again, thrusts stuttering as your walls squeeze him tight, “baby, I’m gonna cum, where do you want me—“ 

“Inside—please need to feel you cum—“ and you’re moaning, pulling him impossibly closer, and he’s sinks deep into you, and cums. He’s spurting his thick load into you, fucking it into you deeper and deeper, until you’re so full of him and his cum, you can barely feel anything else. 

He’s slipping your legs off his shoulders, before collapsing on top of you, sinking into your arms. He’s pulling out, watching your mixed releases slip out of you with a groan, “how are you so fucking perfect?” He’s finding your lips in a kiss, before his nose nuzzles your neck, as your highs wear down. 

Your fingers run through his white strands, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?” And he laughs, settling on your chest.  And for a moment you forget — you forget the nights you spent with Suguru in this bed, the nights spent in tangled sheets with whispered nothings, with his arms around you, just like Satoru’s were now. 

But only for a moment. 

And as Satoru’s soft snores filled your ears, the only thing on your mind was the one person who you wanted in your bed right now. 

~~~ 

“Still asleep?” your fingers run through his hair, “such a lazy-bones on your days off,” and your lips trace over his jaw, making his lips curl despite the draw of sleep, “gonna leave me hanging after last night?” 

And your lips find his, sliding over his with practiced ease, the same way you breathed — it was natural, as his fingers find purchase in your hair, sliding back to your neck. Again and again, your lips cannot part his, if you can’t breathe without him — cannot exist without his touch. 

And when you do part, he’s smiling, black fringe falling in his eyes, “So needy in the morning,” Suguru’s voice is gravelly with sleep, even as your fingers card through his black locks, “when did you become such an early riser? Usually I’m the one dragging you out of this bed kicking and screaming,” 

Usually, but he’s the one who's struggling out of bed these days. He’s struggling to even function — lifting his arms in the shower feels like too much effort — and what’s the point? Would anything change if he left his bed today? Couldn’t he escape into the recesses of his unconscious for the rest of the day? 

But you’re here — and you’re leaning over him, your lips curled in that smile that damned him into submission, because what could he do except submit to you — “who said anything about leaving this bed?” 

But he needed to leave this bed, he thought, as your lips found his again — and how did you always taste so sweet? — he needed to leave these warm covers and inviting embrace. Because he couldn’t stay here. 

He couldn’t stay with you.

But then your lips find his, and he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re climbing on top of him, straddling his waist, his growing bulge tenting in his boxers. He can he stop when you’re murmuring his name like that, eager fingers tugging the damp fabric down, letting his dick slap against his stomach — a bead of precum that you lean down, your tongue darting out to taste. 

And he hisses, as your fingers wrap around him, teasing the head of his cock, thumb dragging over the slit, “sweetheart—“ he's warning — but you know he’s all bark and no bite — but he would be biting you later surely, with the way you toy with him — both his cock and his feelings. 

Your mere presence in his bed has him questioning himself — questioning how necessary is it to end things? Why does he need to? He had this future planned — a certain way things were to go — he was the strongest, him and Satoru, he was going to work and settle down later, marry you, maybe even a kid or two — but now — the plans had changed. 

He had changed. 

Satoru was the strongest. Not him. And work as a sorcerer was killing him now, as you and Satoru were sent farther and further away, and Shoko had resigned herself to medicine — what did he have? Another year of this hell — he didn’t even know if he could last another day of swallowing curses. It had become second nature to him, but without a purpose, without a reason without any principles to guide him — it became worse than torture. 

It was his personal hell. 

And yet, as your soft lips closed around his leaking tip, fingers playing with his balls, as you sank your mouth onto him, drawing soft moans from his lips — he didn’t wanna give it up. How could he, when you were here? He could burn his life down to ash, watch what he worked for, what he had thought was his purpose fall to pieces in front of him — let himself fall to pieces — but that would mean burning you along with it. 

And could he bear that? 

Your tongue flicked against his length, tracing his veins as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him, as his fingers settled in your hair, “fuck, sweetheart, s’fucking good f’me,” and his hips shallowly thrust into your mouth, “take me so well, practically swallowing my dick,” and you swallow around him, pulling a moan from his mouth, his eyes flitting down to see the telltale press of your thighs together, “such a filthy girl, look at you, probably dripping wet from sucking me off,” 

And he’s tugging you off, strings of spit and his precum connecting your lips to his aching dick, “Sugu—“ your lips are red and puffy, parted still, with cum and spit slipping down the corner of your mouth. 

And he’s pulling you on top of him, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, hissing as the damp fabric of your far too thin sleep shorts press against his still sensitive cock, “don’t even have to get you ready baby, already all prepped from just tasting me, aren’t you?” 

He shouldn’t be doing this — he told himself today would be the day, he promised himself he’d stop pretending everything was fine. But when you felt so perfect on him — soft skin and soft sighs, your little gasp you gave when his fingers slide his t-shirt — the one full of small holes you had stolen from him when you first spent the night that you refused to throw out — up and over your head, exposing your chest to him — how can he stop? 

“Suguru, please,” you whimpered as his mouth took one nipple in his mouth, warm tongue flicking against the pebbled flesh before his teeth graze it, pulling another hallowed moan from your lips, “need you,” 

“Do you?” He hums, half teasing, half truthful — did you need him? Would you fall apart when he left? Would he spend nights wondering if you were anxious without him? Spend days wondering how you were filling them without him? 

And you pause, strange look on your face, as your eyes scan over his features, palm sliding over his face, “of course I do,” passion falls away for a moment replaced with a different intimacy, “you’re my best friend,” and your lips slide over his as you lean down, “I’ll always need you, even when we’re both dust — I hope we spend it bathed in sunshine together,” 

But would you? His eyes can’t meet yours — because he can’t see the sun in his future, only a dark descent into madness — a future spent alone. Because even with your smile at the end of his days, he couldn’t imagine spending another minute doing thankless work for miserable, ignorant, weak monkeys, only to do it all over again the next day. And his silence has you questioning him, but it’s like water fills his lungs, paralyzed by his own thoughts, and even as concern fills your eyes, he still can’t find anything to say. 

So you say it instead. 

“C’me here,” you murmur, and your hands slide over him, “I love you,” you kiss him all over his face — his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, before your lips hover before his, “can I—“ 

And he’s flipping you under him, pressing bruising kisses to your lips, as his fingers snake between your thighs, “you don’t need to ask— you never need to ask me,” he whispers in the dark, but even so, he knows — it can’t stay like this — even as he pulls your shorts down to bunch around your ankles and presses his leaking tip your messy folds — it can’t — because you were meant to live in the sunshine. 

And he hilts himself in you fully, inch by inch, until he’s groaning your name in a grunt — and he belonged in the dark silence. 

He knows this would be the last time. It would be. Because he had to — he couldn’t wait. It was only a waiting game until he was called to another mission, time until he dragged himself lower — until he couldn’t blame the heat for his dark bags under his eyes and the lost weight. 

He had to. 

And as he fucks you to your orgasm, instead of your lips moaning his name, your hard eyes meet his, lips parting, “I hate you—“ and his hands curl around your neck, “I hate lying traitors,” you choke out as his fingers squeeze your neck. 

SNAP. 

And he jolts awake, as whispers fill his ears, as his heartbeat slows, “Master Geto?” His eyes flicker over, spotting Nanako and Mimiko trying to snap a chocolate bar in half, “can you help us?” 

A dream. It was a dream. 

And he’s helping the girls, as they curl up beside him, “are you okay, Master Geto? You were talking in your sleep,” Nanako asks, ever curious, “you looked like you were having a bad dream,” 

“I was,” he admits, eyes fixed downward, trying to force the image of you choking below him from his eyes, “about someone I used to know,” 

“Who?” Mimiko pipes up, nibbling on her chocolate, and he sighs, running his hands through their hair, a bittersweet smile on his lips — he could still feel your lips against his, the smell of your sweat, the feel of your body. 

“Someone I loved — who I left, but I guess…I guess I miss them,” why was he spilling his guts to these two little girls? Ones who had been through far too much to hear about his petty problems. 

“Then why don’t you talk to them?” Nanako asks, “maybe you can tell them to live with us,” and his lips curl sadly. 

“I don’t think she would want to talk to me,” and why would you? After what he had said, what he had done, and what he was going to do. 

“You can try,” Mimiko says, she bites a chunk out of her share of the chocolate bar, “you tried to save us and you did — maybe you can do the same thing — save her,” 

And he considers it — maybe he didn’t have to drag you down. Maybe he wouldn’t be — maybe he’d be saving you. Saving you from a system that would only land you in a pile of bodies — just like Riko, just like Haibara. 

Maybe — maybe he could. Maybe he could be enough for you. Enough for you to leave. Enough for you to stay. He could have his family — and have you too. 

~~~~ 

He still had your key. 

You hadn’t bothered to ask for it back — maybe you had forgotten, maybe you didn’t care — but a part of him hoped it was for another reason, maybe you wanted him to come back. 

Even so, he didn’t know if it would still work — maybe you had the foresight to change the locks — but it does, sliding into the lock with ease, as the tumblers slide into place and he’s turning the knob into a silent apartment. And it plants a stubborn seed of hope in his chest, maybe it wasn’t so crazy — aside from breaking and entering — maybe he would find his way back to you. 

You’re likely on your walk this morning still — the same way you started the weekend, a walk and visit to your local coffee shop where you got the same order each time, and then you’d spend an hour browsing the shops for something to read or make. He scans the apartment — he knows you’re on vacation this week, from what Shoko had told him last, before he had spoken to Satoru. You hadn’t heard of his news, but you probably did now — if Shoko hadn’t told you, he knew Satoru would have. 

And he wonders how that conversation went. Wondered how angry you were. Wondered how much you must hate him now — maybe you even wanted to kill him. But the logical side of him knew you didn’t have the skill to do so — you were a grade 1 — a cut above the rest, but still, your abilities weren’t enough, but emotionally…he may let you kill him, if only to spare him the agony of having to kill you — but he knew it’d kill you just the same. 

He can see his days spent here before — you had finally moved off campus, convincing Yaga to let you have your own place early before graduation. You two had celebrated being free of dorm rooms with far too little space and too thin walls (too many times Satoru had spoiled the moment by either banging on the wall, blasting polka music, or just with smug remarks about yours and Suguru’s lack of sleep). He sees himself sitting at the kitchen counter, your stools pressed close as the two of you read the paper together, or laughed about something Shoko had texted or something stupid Gojo had done to piss off Yaga over burnt toast you had only burned while he’s pressing his lips to you. Or evenings spent on the couch cuddling while a bad movie he had picked played, but he’s more preoccupied with teasing you with brushes of his fingers against your bare skin or burying his face in the crook of your neck. And nights spent in your bed, entangled together, his arms around you listening to you breathe, skin dappled in the moonlight that streamed in from the window, wondering how did you ever exist at the same time as him? 

And then the front door swings open, as he steps out from the bedroom, and he hears a bag slip falling to the floor, groceries spilling out, and his gaze finds yours, “What—” 

“I came to see you,” he moves closer, and you step back — and he’s stopping, he doesn’t see fear in your eyes, he sees hurt — and he almost thinks maybe fear would pain him less. 

“Well, I’m here,” you cross your arms, unable to quite meet his eyes, “anything else?” 

“Sweetheart—” 

“You don’t get to call me that, Geto,” your words were sharp as a knife, and you were trying to cut — and you did, deep. He bites back the sting, as he stares at you — your hair was longer, your eyes had bags, but your lips were twisted with pain, when normally it’d be quirked in a smile pressed against his cheek, “what do you want? Unless I should just save myself the trouble and call Satoru or Yaga?” 

“I came to get you,” he steps forward slowly, and you don’t move away this time, “let’s be together. I—” 

“You murdered people, you murdered your parents, you left Jujutsu Tech, you broke my heart, you broke Satoru’s and Shoko’s  — and you want me to come with you?” you shake your head, barking out a harsh laugh, “did you lose your grip on reality between all the damage you’ve caused? 

“If you let me explain—” 

“And why should I let you? Your silence these past months was enough for me, you not fighting for us was enough for me, you spiraling without letting me help you was enough for me,” and your voice breaks, “and you cheating on me was enough for me, enough for me to know it’s over.” 

“It’s not over, it’s not. I tried to force it to be over. I lied to you, I lied to myself, and said it was over, but it’s not, it’s not,” and he’s so close in a moment, and he can smell the familiar scent of your perfume mixed with your sweat — lavender, hibiscus, and something all the more sweeter, “not when it’s us,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, “please—” 

“Don’t do this,” you’re shaking your head, again and again, “don’t, don’t, don’t, please—” 

“How can I not? How can I not when I was foolish enough not to the first time, pretty?” he’s murmuring, “I love you, I do, I never stopped,” 

“No, you don’t—” 

“I do, I do, I know I said a lot of things, I need you to know, I need to explain, if you just let me—” and his fingers are sliding along your jaw, and finds uneven skin, and his eyes lingers, as his fingers tilt your chin up to find a fresh hickey left underneath.

“I—” and he’s drawing you close, so close, his dark eyes narrowed to slits, a deadly silence that makes your skin prickle under his gaze, until he’s warming your lips with his breath. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” but the telltale sign of your breath catching, your chest heaving against his, your lips parted as your eyes can’t pull away from him, his grip is slack enough for you to pull away — but you don’t. 

You can’t. 

And his lips hover before yours, warming your own with his heated breath, “Kiss me, baby,” and your cheeks warm, butterflies erupting in your stomach, heat blooming wherever his other hand sneaks, dragging over your sides. 

“Why should I?” you’re grumbling, but you’re staying right where he has you — right in his arms, and you don’t know why, “you want to kiss me so bad so you do it,” 

And he clicks his tongue, fingers sliding behind your head, weaving into your hair and against the soft skin of the back of your neck, tugging you closer, “you kissed someone else with those lips, tasted them, maybe a day or two — were you this bratty with them?” 

“Oh fuck off, Suguru, you’re one to talk—“ and his lips swallow your bitter words, tasting them on your tongue, as he parts your lips with a rough squeeze of your hips. And his lips only quirk when your moan rumbles against him, his calloused palms sliding between your thighs. 

“You open your legs this easy for them?” he says when he’s pulling away from your mouth, thumb dragging over your swollen spit soaked lips, “how’s that fair? I’m your first, baby, and I’ll always be your favorite—“ 

And any retort is lost as his teeth drag over your jaw, lips closing right over the hickey he had hated so much, normally calm eyes filled with dark contempt, and he’s biting down, pinching your already bruised skin between his teeth, sucking and soothing with his tongue, “Mine, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

You nod wordlessly, and his fingers slide forward, wrapping around the front of your neck, thumbing the hollow of your throat, “Use your words,” and there was something darker — something he had let you have glimpses of in moments of missions, of arguments, even in bed — but it wasn’t a glimpse now — it was the whole goddamn picture above you. 

“I’m yours, Suguru,” you manage, words strangled by a moan as his lithe fingers tug at the waistband of your panties, making them rub against your drenched cunt, “please—” 

“So pliant now, aren’t you?” he hums, as he pulls harder, making the wet fabric rub against your aching clit, “maybe I should make you cum this way, don’t know if you deserve my fingers or my mouth yet,” 

You’re a mess — mind swimming in the need for pleasure, why did it always feel so right with him? So perfect. It shouldn’t be. He cheated on you. He slaughtered humans. He left you. He left you without telling you anything of what was plaguing him, until it was too late. 

It was too late. He was too late. 

So why were you letting his hands tear your panties apart as he fucked you with them? 

Because — your fingers reach for his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, as your lips parted and met — it was Suguru. 

It was always Suguru. 

“Please, Suguru, I need you, need more—ngh—” and the fabric of your panties snaps under his fingers, as he’s ripped them off, pocketing them without another word. 

“Did you let him touch you?” he’s kissing down your body, wet kisses, his lips lingering at your pebbled nipples, sucking one, while squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger, before he switches, kissing down your stomach — tongue teasing your belly button — before he’s finally settling between your thighs, his fringe unrulier than ever, strands of his long hair slipping from his bun, “Answer me, sweetheart,” he orders, as he presses mean fingers to part your thighs for him, surely leaving bruises with how hard he’s holding your soft flesh. 

“I did,” you can’t manage the words to tell him who — how can you tell him his best friend fucked you? That you let Satoru fuck you the night you found out he left. It was one thing for him to cheat with a random person, it’s another for you to go and sleep with his best friend, “Suguru, please—” 

“Mouth or fingers?” and you swear, despite them not speaking, they still share the same dumbass brain cell— 

“What the fuck does it matte—” and your words are cut off by Suguru slipping in two fingers at once into your leaking cunt, fucking you meanly as he watched your mouth fall open, head tilted back as your hips jerked against him, desperate for more. His fingers curled as they fucked your hole open with rapid thrusts, the squelch of your cunt going straight to your head and straight to his already hard cock. 

“It fucking matters because this is my pussy, isn’t it, baby? I fucked it first, I fucked it best, and I need to know what others did while I was gone, don’t I?” and a third joins the other two, pulling another moan from your lips,“but if you won’t tell me, I’ll just use both, fuck you with all five fingers and tongue if that’s what you want to do,” 

“Sugu—” you’re already so fuckin’ close, your walls shuddering around his cock, “I’m—“ and he stops moving, smiling down at your open mouth twisting in a scowl, “fuck—“ 

“That’s what we’re trying to do, baby, but I’m not gonna let you cum that easy,” he coos, his curled lips leaning down to lap at your cunt, warm tongue dragging up your clit, before sucking lightly, making you squirm, “tell me you want me,” 

“Your fucking ego—“ and he’s plunging three fingers into your messy entrance, making you gasp — god, you hated how good he felt — his fingers bullying your insides with practiced ease, “Sugu— please—“ as his tongue teases your clit, flicking it, before his teeth nibble at it. You’re squirming in earnest now, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers and tongue. 

He laughs, pulling his mouth from your cunt, lips glossy with your pre-cum,“How quick you’re going from cussing me out to begging me to cum,” you don’t care anymore — you need to cum, “tell me what you want, Princess,” 

“Need to cum, please, please, Sugu—ah—“ and he’s sinking one more finger in you, before his lips close around your clit and suck, hard. Your back arches as something in you snaps, as the squelching and slurping of his fingers and sucking send you over the edge. You flood his mouth and fingers with your cum, squirting all over him, as he eats you out and fucks you through your orgasm, groaning as you clench around his tongue and fingers. Your thighs shake and quiver in his grip, fingers holding you still in place, as he keeps overstimulating you, “too much, can’t—“ you cry out, shaking your head, but he’s not relenting until you feel something build in again — more and more, until his fingers find that one spot in you that has you silently screaming as you cum again, even harder than the first. You’re soaked — soaked the sheets through, chest rising and falling as the pleasure ebbs away, tears slipping down your cheeks, folds fluttering as he pulls his fingers out. 

His breath warms your dripping cunt, lips glossy and eyes dark, groaning as he watches your cum slip from inside you,  as he looks up at you with a dark, half lidded gaze, “So fucking good for me, even hotter when you cry,” he’s licking his lips clean of your cum, before he’s pressing the pads of his fingers into your open mouth, “clean them f’me, baby,” and your tongue swirls around him obediently without question, pretty eyes glassy with tears making his rock hard cock twitch in his pants, “good girl,” 

And he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth, before leaning up and pulling off his black sweater, the click of his belt as he kicks off his pants, your eyes glued to his thick cock — he was thicker than Satoru, so pretty too — black pubes groomed, nearly pressed against his stomach. 

“Always so desperate for my cock, aren’t you, Princess? I’ll let you clean your cum off of it after, but I have to have you first — got to reclaim what’s mine,” and he’s dragging his cock against your clit. 

You gasp, twitching against him, but more than the pleasure, the guilt creeps in — flashes of Satoru from the night before with hands over your hips and thighs, and you had kept quiet about your life from the time you spent away. You had done your best to stay away from Suguru, even though you knew he hadn’t exactly done the same — asking Shoko questions, for pictures, for any scrap of you. 

And you couldn’t lie — not about this. 

“Suguru,” and he’s pausing, eyes meeting yours with a flash of concern, but the words tumble out with warning, just the way he had done with you, “I slept with Satoru,” 

And he’s silent — emotions roll in and out on his face — confusion, hurt, anger, and acceptance — they all fall away as he’s only staring off to the side, unable to even look at you. Words fall away, stopped in your mouth after the bitter truth that’s left it and you wonder — is it over now? Seconds feel like hours — your fingers curl into the sheets, looking for something to hang onto, to ground you. Why did he have to start this? You were fine with the burnt ashes of the love he had scorched over, but now he started a fire, and you didn’t want to put it out. You didn’t want to go out. 

You didn��t want him to go. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes finally find yours for a moment, before he’s kissing you again and again and again, bruising kisses that slaughter any sense of logic and words from you — but his message is clear, he doesn’t wanna talk, especially as his hand reaches does to brush his aching tip against you, smearing his pre-cum over the length of you. 

And he’s sinking into you, and somehow you’re still so tight around him, “Fuck,” he hisses, the first word that leaves his mouth, “did Satoru not fuck you right last night?” and your lips part as he thrusts harshly and smoothly, bottoming out with one single movement, “still as tight as when I took your virginity, aren’t you, baby?” 

“Suguru,” you’re so full, he’s so thick, and these last few weeks without him almost had your cunt forgetting what he felt like filling you — his hands gripping your thighs to press them back against your stomach, as he pulls back only to slam back in, making you head loll back, “s’good, s’full,” it’s all you can feel, all you can think about, was him, just him. 

“That’s right, I’m the only one who can fill you like this, the only one that makes you feel this good,” the sounds of his hips slapping against you send more heat flooding downward, as he grunts, watching himself piston in and out of you, “take me s’well, my good girl, mine,” he growls, “squeezing me so tight, never want me to leave this sweet cunt, do you?” your thighs shake as he presses them back, balls slapping against your ass, as he only sinks deeper and deeper, “could fuck you all night, don’t hide that face from me,” he’s forcing you to hold his gaze as he fucks you — your glassy eyes blown out with pleasure, your kiss ruined lips parted for him as you panted and moaned, forehead glossy with sweat, “wanna watch you cum around my cock, wanna see you scream my name, pretty baby,” 

His hand slides behind your ass, grabbing a fistful and finding a better angle before slamming back in, and with his filthy words, its enough to have you cumming with his name on your lips, “Sugu—fuck, Suguru!” your voice goes to a pitch you didn’t know it could reach. Toes curling as your gummy walls swallow him in, your pretty mouth forms an ‘o’ and he grunts, imagining those lips around his cock, his thrusts growing sloppy as he fucked you through your orgasm. His dick was soaked, his precum mixing with your cum. 

But he wasn’t done yet. 

He’s slapping your clit, making you jolt, as he’s still pressed inside you, “Sloppy fucking girl, I know you have one more for me,” and you’re so fucked out, he’s guiding your legs around his lower back and hips, making you gasp, “gonna cum in this perfect princess cunt,” 

“Sugu, can’t, It’s too muc—” you nearly sob, but he’s already fucking you, thrusting again and again. And it doesn’t take long for another orgasm to build, already far too sensitive from your last. It’s too much — the feeling of his hips slapping against yours, the feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls, the small moans that your tight cunt pull from his lips, and when his tip brushes against that perfect spot, as his thumb bears down on your clit — it’s too much. You see stars as you cum again, even harder, the loud squelch as he fucks you still pulls a deep groan from his lips. 

“Gonna cum, baby, gonna make a mess of you, fill you up,” he’s grunting, and you’re only nodding and moaning “yes,” still fucked out from your orgasms, but it’s enough for him notch himself deep in you and cum, painting your womb white, as he spurts his seed inside you. 

And his hips stutter, as he eases your legs down, still shaking and quivering from being fucked, and he rubs them, as you pant, his fingers then reaching to wipe your tears, as he eases himself out, groaning as he watched your mixed cums leak out of your cunt. 

“Suguru,” you murmur, and he’s leaning over you, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your hand reaches for him, cupping his cheek, “I love you,” and you do — you always loved him, you always would — there was never anyone else. Only him. But the words can’t find their way out of your mouth, sleep calling for your attendance, as your fingers run through his hair, pulling his hair tie off, and carding their way through his long hair, “I love the long hair,” you hum, eyes fluttering and heavy with sleep. 

“Do you?” His voice is gravelly, as he leans down, his lips finding your own for moment, before reaching for a bath towel you had slung over your metal bed frame, as he cleans you up, “how much?” 

“Too much, Sugu,” he chuckles softly, as he finishes cleaning you and himself up, pressing soft kisses to your thighs, as he moves to get up and put the towel in the hamper — your hand catches him by the wrist, “Don’t go,” 

And his gaze softens, as he shakes his head, “I’m just taking this to the hamper, I’ll come back to bed,” and your lips form an unfairly cute pout, but you relent, letting him walk away to the bathroom to dispose of the towel, and when he comes back, you’re already asleep, curled up. 

He stands in the doorway, watching your chest rise and fall — and he’s walking over, pulling your comforter over your body, as he holds it open for himself, pausing, only to let it fall and settle on your side. 

He couldn’t ask you to come with him. Couldn’t whisper those words in the night, because you couldn’t save him from the dark — not you, not Satoru, not a single person. Because he wasn’t cut out to live in this world with a smile on his face — and you always deserved to have one on your lips. And Satoru could do that for you. Not him. 

It was never him. He was never good enough — his fingers trace over your cheek, pressing another kiss to your forehead — not for the jujutsu world, and not for you. 

And he turns to leave, sparing a single glance at you — but he’d make a place for him. And maybe for you — make a world that’s safe for them to live in. Where he didn’t have to watch you join the other bodies piled up around him. 

He’s pulling the door shut to your apartment softly, his key left on the table. 

It was over. 

~~~

“You’re late again, as usual,” Suguru smiles, slumping down against a wall, “Satoru,” 

“The ones in Kyoto, they were under your command?” 

“Yes, they all were,” he sways, holding his shoulder, he didn’t have much time left — he couldn’t feel anything, even as he held his wound, he felt nothing — no pain, no anger, no hatred, “no matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys,” and his thumb brushes lightly over his shoulder, “but I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High School,” 

“Did you not? Could’ve surprised me,” and his head turns slowly behind Satoru, and he sees you — sees you for the first time in a decade. Even at his visit to Jujutsu High, you weren’t around — away on a mission, just as he had intended. 

Satoru only sighs, sparing you a glance, “I told you not to come here—” 

“And I told you that I needed to see him,” you brush past Satoru, kneeling by Suguru — and he can’t take his eyes off of you — he had seen pictures, ones he had his twins take (not wanting those money grubbing monkeys to have even an image of you), and he saw you had done quite well for yourself after he had left. A teacher, just like Satoru — trying to foster a new generation of sorcerers — he was right, you were just like him, weren’t you? And he watches as your brow furrows, scanning over his injuries, gears grinding, but he has to halt them right then and there. 

“There’s no saving me now, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, “but you know that already, don’t you?” he takes an unsteady breath, leaning back against the wall, his eyes falling over you again, “still so beautiful — how’s that possible?” 

“Not beautiful to stick around for though, am I?” your words aren’t laced with bitterness so much as it’s a question, a question of why he had left you. Why did he never had come back. 

“But beautiful enough to always stay faithful to,” his words are soft, “I don’t have many regrets, not any at all truly in retrospect, but I did lie to you about cheating—” 

“I know,” your hand uses your sleeve to clean some of the blood on his face, scarlet on your palm, “I realized once I thought about it — and I’ve had plenty of time to think about you, Suguru,” your fingers trace his jawline softly, “because thoughts were all you left me with,” 

“Not all I left you with,” his eyes slide back to Satoru and back to you, lips curled in a smile, “you two were always more better suited than I ever was to you, princess,” 

“Suguru—” Satoru starts, but Suguru is shaking his head. 

“It’s rude to interrupt a person’s last words, Satoru,” he clicks his tongue, and his lips curl as he finds your gaze again, your eyes glassy, “don’t look like that, sweetheart,” 

“Suguru, why did you have to leave?” and he’s shaking his head slowly, resting it against the wall behind him. 

“Because I didn’t belong there — I couldn’t live in this world with a real smile on my face,” and his hand reaches for you, but stops, falling back to his shoulder, and tears slip down your cheeks, “but with you, I came close,” he murmurs, and he knew it was time, “Satoru,” and that’s all he had to say to have Satoru start to pull you away. 

“No, no, please—” you’re shaking your head, trying to push past Satoru, but you slump in his arms, “I love you, Suguru, I always will,” 

And he gives a small chuckle, lips curled in that smile that always damned you — “At least curse me at the end,” 

But you never could, as you step away, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear the distant splatter of blood. And you knew — you knew you would have stayed forever, stayed with him forever, if he only had told you not to go. 

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

The two of you bury him, somewhere secluded, where no one would find him. The cold ground was hell to dig up, but the two of you managed somehow, each shovelful feeling like a funeral march with no end in sight. Neither of you could bear the thought of his body being poked and probed for its secrets, before being burned, turned to the ash and smoke, the very same he had left your lives in when he had torched it all to the ground. But even so, you couldn’t bear it — and as you look at the mound before you, you want to claw his body up — dig him up as if it would bring him back to life, pull whatever being or force out of the sky and make them give him back. 

But you can’t — it’s over.

Satoru’s hand finds your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, burying your face in his chest, as he holds you tight to his chest. And he’s leading you away from Suguru, a single flower left over his grave, as the cold air freezes the tear stains left on your cheeks. 

It’s over now. It was over now, right? Right? 

And it was. 

Until Shibuya. 

a/n: this was supposed to be 3K, and ended up being over 10K. story of my life. this fic is thematically sponsored by 1989 (taylor's version), in particular, the vault tracks that helped me write this. you can literally spot lyric references almost throughout the entire thing

tag list: @ghostkonigkeegan141, @lightblueexorcist, @aemondseyesocket, @lemonpoppy-seed, @stran-dedforyou, @tiaraqueen123, @sun-daddy-yoriichi, @grooveandshit, @prettyabc, @kaskasi, @moranguitosz, @haunting-venus, @ninneko19, @psychicai, @d1rtv, @forest-fruits-jam, @katie91239, @dud3vil, @robynnikole151, @ivory-cove, @ohbi-the-way, @numbinyourchest, @dabisdolly, @kal0pssiaa, @glaceliy, @3atinguout, @iovesatoru, @imthebestbye-blog, @michelleeveline, @ichikanu, @ummcumfurtable, @collectionofdolls, @auraeum, @reesesnieces, @goldfishsmemory, @itshobiscussposts

[widowlyy]

ON THE RUN ⌣⌣⋟ 🍒

analysis. Natasha is on the run; while you're running from everything. Well, now with you tied up in the back of her corvette you can't run. Stuck with the woman who has been hunting you down, you can't help but push her limits. pairing. natasha romanoff x reader smut. dark!nat, bratty!r. non-con(?), strap on use (r receiving), fingering, oral, top!nat and bottom!reader. choking, bondage, gagging. daddy kink, degrading (puppy, mutt, and slut used). alluded to stockholm syndrome. word count. 1.5k

authors note. I understand I have two other fics going but why not add in on kinktober with just one fic 😏 — holy shit i jst realized this is like the first time I actually wrote smut other than my drabbles ☹️ ⌣⌣⋟

You heard the tires screech as the corvette had rolled into the abandoned parking lot. Eyes wide, hands tied behind your back as you had the gag spit out of your mouth as you fixated your glare on Natasha. Nose scrunching, before hissing out, “This isn’t following regulation! You’re going to get in more trouble!”

You questioned why Natasha hadn’t tightened the gag, as if the redhead was asking for you to be annoying, which you were. Having the threats of ‘if you don’t keep that gag in then you won’t like the consequences to come’ and yet you kept pushing your limits everytime thinking Natasha wasn’t going to do anything too drastic. It wasn’t until her head whipped back with a dark glare pinpointed at you as she snapped out. 

“We’re both on the run from the government, I’m doing a brat like you a favor. I don’t trust you stabbing me in the back both ways, I’m so close to losing my temper with you,” Her words were cold, and you knew that it was nothing but the truth. You had swallowed thickly before opening your mouth to have argument with the redhead words as she cut you off, “If you spit out that gag one more time I might as well find something else to occupy your mouth with,”

The pool of heat that seeped through your panties had you thinking a little bit, the way Natasha had been looking at you couldn’t help but want to test out the waters. Sifting your body a bit in the seat with your restraints before speaking out, “so why don’t you come back here and try me?”

The car was put into park, Natasha had eased off of the brake to lift her foot. Which isn’t what she’s about to do with you, no plans on having it ease as she hissed out, “Such a pathetic mutt, doesn’t know when to stop pouring too much spice to the mix,”

She crawled into the back seat, and it wasn’t without a doubt a cool hand had grasped your cheek and pressed you into the window of the corvette. It wasn’t even hard, taking a small pocket knife to tear through the clothing as she fondled your breasts. With you know bare in her leather seats, her eyes fell to the soaked panties before letting out a mocking taunt, “such a little slut, we work against each other but you still can’t help but get wet for me,”

You had released a whimper as her fingers found your nipples and pulled harshly. Your body had moved back, hips pressing into her pelvic bone as you felt your mind daze enough to allow the redhead to maneuver you about. Putty in her hands and you felt her pull back already, sexual frustration beating the fear of her cruelty you spat out, “Natasha if you don’t put your hands back I might as well stab you in the back,”

A hand had found your scalp, gripping the roots of your hair before pushing your face into the leather seats of her corvette. Her other hand had squeezed your ass, fingers gently trailing down to swipe through your folds and watching your arousal stick to the pads of her fingers, “Listen here you stupid mutt, you think you’re so mighty but I know that when daddy puts her hands on you all you become is a needy little puppy,”

You whined, wiggling your hips back before Natasha pushed your hips back down. Her hand lowered from your ass to cup your core, thumb pressing down on your clit as you moaned out loudly into the thick air of tension that resided in the vehicle. Her eyes darkened as she hummed, clearly thinking.

“Now what should I do with you? Hmm? Maybe train the poor little puppy to learn that she can’t get what she wants,” She taunted, pressing her lips to your ear as you let out a soft cry. Wrists shifting from behind your back against the ropes as they uncomfortably rubbed against your skin which is bound to be red and burning when they—if—they come off. As much as you were against having to be edged and not allowed to cum, you still felt more needy than you realized, crying out.

“Daddy please, I’ll be good,” Her grip released on your hair for a split second before her hand snaked around and gripped your throat and lightly squeezed as the hand between your legs had plunged two fingers into your needy hole as her nails gently scraped down your velvety walls which gave you a feeling of paradise you haven’t felt in a long time, “Hmm? Please what puppy? Daddy doesn’t read minds,”

You let out a soft babble, not able to utter anything out as your attention was on your restricted air and the fingers of the assassin inside you. Her pads were rough, calloused from so many fights and training, eyes watering a bit as Natasha started to steadily thrust into you as she watched how your cunt accepted it all. When your body shook and your walls squeezed her roughly, she ripped her hand out from your core and you cried out pitifully into the air. Tears had swelled in your ducts, and they were threatening to dribble down your cheeks as Natasha mockingly cooed.

“Poor puppy, my poor little mutt was so close wasn’t she?” And you nodded so quickly, desperately, feeling her hand on your throat leave as fabric was heard being pulled down her body behind you until you felt silicone press against your thigh. You were already a sopping wet mess, and she took that advantage to plunge her fake cock into your desperate cunt.

“You need to learn your manners, ask daddy to cum when you need to cum or when I take you to my safehouse I’m going to edge you all night and make you warm my cock,” She threatened harshly until she steadily set her pace of thrusting into you. She started off slow and tauntingly, which had your knuckles white before her hands found your hips to steady herself. Without warning her pace quickened and the sound of skin slapping was heard throughout the car. The sound of wetness squelching as she pounded into your pussy was heard over the faint radio in the background of reporters looking for Natasha and the other avenger on the run.

You felt insane pleasure, blissful already as you whimpered out. Her thumb pressed against your clit as you panted against the leather of her seats, a mocking sentence left her lips again, “such a little slut, is puppy so desperate to get fucked that she lets her enemies pound into her from behind in a car?”

You moaned out loudly, mewls had left your throat as you felt your lungs shrivel up as your voice was heard throughout the vehicle. Brows furrowing as you tried to hold onto that coil in your stomach, and you completely forgot. Without a warning your orgasm washed through, feeling the stickiness gush out of your cunt and stick to yours and Natasha’s thighs. You felt silence go through the car, even the radio stopped. The shared movements between the both of you had come to a pause before Natasha’s strap was pulled out of your hole.

“That was a bad puppy,” her teeth grit, and the irritation in Natasha’s voice was clearly heard as she lowered herself onto all fours, hands ripping your thighs apart to bring her tongue to your folds to get a final taste of your arousal and essence. She was addicted already, lavishing your cunt but never giving you the friction you needed. When you tried to grind down on her face she pulled back and left you on edge, listening to you let out a sob as she gave a slap to your ass.

“You’re gonna have to wait until we get to the safehouse mutt, because I’m certainly not done with you. Especially with how you already broke one of daddy’s rules. Gonna warm my cock all night while I play with your pretty tits and clit, going to ensure that I’m all you’re gonna need puppy,” She had pulled her pants back up as she tucked her strap back into her pants, leaving you face down in the seat with no move to sit you upright.

She took your gag off of your neck where you had previously spit it out, wet with your salvias. She left your body bare as she rolled up your panties and shoved it into your mouth to gag you properly, eyes falling on how your eyes fluttered shut to hide how aroused you were. She slid back up to the front seat of the car, eyes dark as she went back to drive on the road to the familiar route of the safehouse. Tuning the radio up before she quietly announced to you.

“You better prepare yourself puppy, because daddy doesn’t plan on letting you go anytime soon,” Her eyes met yours in the rearview mirror as your eyes drooped. Listening to the raspy chuckle of the runaway avenger, before your mind went blank. Vision going black as you passed out with the burning ache in your stomach for desperate release that you weren’t going to get anytime soon. A poor little mutt that got picked up off of the streets, oh how did you end up like this.

[dorabellingham]

Kissing in the rain

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you're arguing and you leave him talking to himself, but he follows you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a gray, rainy afternoon in Madrid. The sound of rain beating against the windows of the house was constant, almost drowning out the tense voices inside. You and Jude were standing in the living room, arguing about something trivial —this time, it was about which route to take to get to a family appointment, but it could have been about anything else. In the last few days, it seemed like everything was a source of friction between you.

—I told you, the route I chose is faster! Why do you always have to complicate things?

You exclaimed, crossing your arms and looking at Jude in frustration.

Jude, on the other hand, seemed equally impatient.

—Complicate things? I’m just trying to help, but you never listen! Every time we have to decide something, it turns into this.

—Turn into what, Jude? I’m not asking for help. I just want us to get there without fighting!

You were clearly tired of that argument, but at the same time, you couldn't stop arguing.

The rain outside was getting stronger, the sky seemed heavier and heavier, reflecting the tension. The eldest Bellingham rubbed his face with his hands, taking a step back.

—You know what? You're always cutting me off, always making it seem like I'm the problem.

You huffed and turned your back, heading towards the door. You weren't going to stand there, arguing, when all you wanted was peace.

—Cutting you off, Jude? Stay on your route. I'll go alone.

You opened the door, and the cold air of the rain entered the house, messing up your hair and making your skin shiver. You knew it was stupid, that you were going out in the middle of the rain for a silly reason, but sometimes your emotions took over everything. Without looking back, you walked out the door, leaving the boy alone.

Outside, the rain was falling hard, soaking you in seconds. You walked fast, almost running on the wet sidewalk, raindrops running down your face, mixing with the tears you wouldn't admit you were shedding. You were angry, frustrated, but most of all, tired of how things always seemed to be out of control lately.

But after a few meters, you heard his heavy footsteps behind you.

—Y/n, wait!

He shouted, running towards you, completely ignoring the fact that you were both getting wet to the bone.

You stopped, but didn't turn around immediately. You stood there, in the middle of the street, feeling the cold rain fall on your body as you waited for Jude to reach you. The sound of the drops was the only sound that filled the silence between you for a moment.

He reached you, breathing heavily, his soaked hair making heavier drops of water run down his face.

—Babe... we need to stop this. —He said, his voice hoarse, as if he was tired of fighting so much. —This... we're always arguing over nothing.

You finally turned to face him, your eyes shining with anger and sadness.

—So why don't we stop? Why does it always have to be like this?

He was silent for a moment, running his hand through his wet hair. The rain continued to fall, harder, as they stared at each other.

—Because... because I care too much.

Jude finally answered, his voice low, barely audible over the sound of the storm.

You looked at him, surprised.

—What?

—I care too much, Y/n. That's why we fight. I want everything to work out, I want us to be okay... and when we start arguing, I just lose control.

He admitted, his frustration evident in his voice.

You were quiet for a moment, absorbing his words. Maybe you had underestimated how much your boyfriend cared, how much he wanted things to work out between them. You always saw him as the calm guy, the one who kept his cool while you exploded with emotion, but maybe he was just as lost in this relationship as you were.

You were about to answer, but before you could say anything, Jude took two big steps towards you and pulled you close. Without hesitation, he kissed you with an urgency you hadn't expected, as if he was trying to end all the fights, all the frustration, in a single gesture.

The rain continued to fall around you, and you felt his body against yours, warm, even in the middle of the storm. You let yourself be carried away by the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling Jude’s large hands holding you firmly.

The world seemed to stop in that moment. The fights, the friction, the arguments —everything disappeared the instant Jude’s lips met yours. And for a moment, you realized that what you were doing now was much more important than anything you had discussed before. That was what mattered, what you had with each other, the connection that, despite all the differences, always brought you back together.

When the kiss finally ended, you were both breathless, but he still held you close, your foreheads pressed together.

—I’m sorry, babe.

He whispered, his eyes fixed on yours.

You smiled slightly, your hands still holding his face.

—I’m sorry too. —You said, your voice soft. —I think we just need to learn not to let small things become a problem.

Jude nodded, letting out a soft laugh.

—And maybe we should wait to argue until it’s not raining?

You laughed too, shaking your head.

—Yeah, that might be a good idea, honey.

You stood there for a few more seconds, just looking at each other, as the rain continued to fall around you. You knew there would still be fights, there would still be times when you would disagree, but in the end, what you had together was greater than any argument.

—Shall we go home?

Jude asked, finally pulling away a little, but still holding your hand.

You nodded, and you began walking back, hand in hand, soaked from the rain, but with lighter hearts. This might have been the stupidest fight you had ever had, but in the end, it had served to remind you both that, no matter how much you argued, you were still in love.

Heyyy! I'm sorry for the delay in bringing this one shot, it's my first time having an iphone and all this is very strange to me but soon we'll be back to normal :)) Do you have any suggestions for new themes?

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[t-horn-n]

— the nights the wind grows teeth

pairing: silco x hard of hearing!reader (female) 

genre: a little of everything 

summary: a simple introduction, briefly. 

word count: 1 311

note: I have an unserious headcanon that Silco doesn’t drink anything from the Last Drop since Vander’s not the one pouring them.

anyway, prolly gonna be a series ???

You possess a capacity for calmness that so often escapes fissure folk.  It’s a quality that Silco appreciates even if that sort of level-headedness is off-putting to most, to the extent that many believe you’re either a stone cold bitch or just stupid enough to live in a constant state of ignorant bliss.  

Silco supposes that, temperamentally, you remind him of himself.  Sevika has his passion, but she also has a tendency to think with her fists.  Jinx has his intellect and intuition but she’s inclined to act out on her own.  You actually can exhibit an amount of forethought.  And, well, past the three of you, he can’t claim to be interested in anyone else. 

“Go home, kid,” Sevika says into your good ear.  “You’ve done enough for the day.”

It’s barely eleven at night and you know that she’s going to be running around for the next three hours, at least.  That, and you’re actually Sevika’s senior by a year, give or take.  She just likes to play big sister once in a while.  You like to let her.  

And you can’t say that you mind getting off a little early to sit in one of the Last Drop’s booths until you’re tired enough that you’ll be asleep on your feet by the time you trudge back to your bed.  Well actually, if you’re more inclined to be honest, which you aren’t, you would admit that you’re hoping it’ll be one of those occasions where your generous benefactor will slide into the seat across from you and lean forward so that you can light his cigar.  You’ve never quite understood why he likes the things considering that the fissures already have their fair share of smoke.  

Sometimes he’ll talk about the week’s plans, monologuing into your good ear, or he’ll talk about Jinx.  On other nights, when he knows that the ringing in your bad ear is particularly bad, he’ll let you sit in silence, watching his smoke writhe beneath the Last Drop’s grimy green light.  

Everyone knows that Silco is clever, but he is also observant, and he knows that it’s the biting, frosty nights that your hearing is the worst.  The uncomfortable whine is the loudest and even the sounds that you can hear become smothered and unfocused.  

It’s also when that unrequited ache, bone-deep, is the most needy.  

You’ve only had shimmer once.  It’s been too long for you to remember how it actually tasted, whether it was bitter or sweet; whether it burned your throat or whether they injected it straight into your veins.  But you can remember the way that it made you feel.  You’ve never been in love, but you figure that shimmer makes one as manic as love does.  

When it’s cold fog stalking the Lanes, rather than just the typical Gray, your severed ear calls out for the weightless sensation shimmer provided, but you’re sure that if you indulge, even when you feel like you won’t survive the phantom pains, you won’t be able to resist the drug the next time.  Or the next.  You can’t say that your life is bliss, but you know that you're much better off fighting the cold with the Last Drop’s liquor than you are addicted to shimmer.

“It’s bothering you tonight,” Silco states plainly.  

Before you is a glass of some mystery, clouded liquid.  All you’d asked for was something strong, hoping that it’d dull the persistent thrumming in your skull.  Silco, lounging across from you, has an unlit cigar dancing between his fingers.  You swear you’ve never seen him drink from his own bar.

“Yes,” you admit because you know anything else will lead to a pointless argument.  “But it’s not bad tonight.” 

“Hm,” he hums.

You’d only been to the Last Drop once before meeting Silco, officially that is.  And, you hadn’t really been there, all things considered.  You had been fifteen and had your ear pressed against one of its windows in order to hear the murmurs of whomever was inside.  Before you ran with Silco, you were an information runner.  It was simple and clean and tidy.  You’d play the part of the fly on the wall and whisper plans for hit-and-runs and smuggling jobs into the ears of your handlers and you’d get a cut.  It was simple, well, until you got caught.  

Now, it’s certainly true that your old job would be more difficult considering the circumstances.  The reason why Silco keeps you around, you suspect, is because you can be quiet and charming, when you want to be.  Your feet are coated in enough silver for you to make your way silently around the Lanes into places where people don’t want you to be.  And your center is soft and gooey enough to charm Piltees into trying shimmer.  Just this once, they’ll tell you.  That’s how you get them.

“A shipment is going out tomorrow and I expect that it will go better than the last one,” Silco says.  

He sounds submerged.  He repeats himself, slowly so that you can make out the movements of his lips in the low light, then continues, “We don’t need the Fireflies disrupting our schedule any more than they already have.” 

You nod and notice how odd he looks down among the general trouble of the Lanes.  

“You’ll be there tomorrow,” he says and it’s a fact.

He slides out of the booth, his cigar still unlit.  “It’s cold tonight.”

“I’m warm enough,” you tell him as you down the rest of your drink.  

The cobblestones beneath seep cold into the soles of your feet and the alleyways shuck their frosty breath onto your back on your way to your hole-in-the-wall apartment.  It’s cold there too.  And dark. 

There’s not really a kitchen, just a gas cooktop beside a muddy window.  A single stool sits at a counter and beyond that is a bed boxed in by three walls and an old dresser. 

“Hi, Jinx.” 

“Aw, how’d you know I was here?” she croons.

“I heard the sound of your breathing.” 

“No you didn’t,” she laughs.  

“No,” you agree.  “But you left my door unlocked.” 

“Oops.” 

You toss your jacket at her as you flip the light on, and Jinx is there, perched on your windowsill.  She swats away your oncoming jacket.  

“Close the window.” 

“You’re bossy.  Has anyone ever told you that?” she asks, twirling her hair around her fingers.  

She follows you into your bedroom and falls backward onto your bed.  She’s appeared in your apartment enough times that this is all routine, practically.  At least you’ve trained her to keep her boots off your bed.  

“Mhm,” you reply.

Your fingers are cold and slow moving as you unlace your shoes, tug them off, and throw them on top of your dresser.  You press your palm against the spot where you ear should be trying to warm it up.

“He sent you to make sure I didn’t trip up the stairs?” you ask, a little sarcastically but really, you’re somewhat flattered.

She groans and doesn’t answer you.  “He’s bossy too,” she whines.  

“He is.” 

You fall onto the bed next to her head.

“Did you know that you’re the only one he comes down to that shitty bar for?” 

“Mm?”  You only caught half of her sentence.

“He just sits in that chair and frowns.”

Jinx always makes enough conversation for both of you.  You wonder how often she fills in your parts herself.

It’s likely stupid of the thought to even cross your mind, but on these particularly cold nights when you are feeling particularly unlike yourself—when you are in pain and you crave what you shouldn’t have and your regrets feel the most potent—Silco feels particularly like a friend.  You almost scoff.  That’s a dangerous thought.

“If you’re sleeping here, you’re getting the light,” you tell Jinx.

— m. list

[laneywrld]

Oh Baby | part two

part two.

word count: 10.8k

Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy

The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.

You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning. 

"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."

You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad. 

He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.

The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning. 

If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.

You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up. 

"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."

The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other. 

Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side. 

His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.

"We need t'sleep."

He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.

You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate. 

"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."

Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.

Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world. 

He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.

He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.

Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life. 

Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.

"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.

-

You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.

"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.

You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.

There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten. 

You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.

What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise. 

You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.

You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.

He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"

You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"

"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.

"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"

Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.

"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off. 

Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.

You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.

You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.

"Last night was fun," He hummed.

You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.

"I want to address what we-"

You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.

"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."

"I don't-"

"It was a mistake," you rambled on.

Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.

"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.

"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."

Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.

There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.

"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."

He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.

He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny. 

"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts. 

His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.

"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."

You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.

"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"

"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"

"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?" 

He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other. 

"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.

"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"

"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.

"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes. 

Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.

"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."

"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."

"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.

"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"

And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.

And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.

But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.

You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.

"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."

Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"

He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.

You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."

You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.

He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.

He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny. 

You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave? 

You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely. 

When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this. 

-

Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend. 

You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.

He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.

You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.

Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you. 

-

Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes. 

He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.

When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.

Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."

Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good. 

He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.

Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.

The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school. 

Hello Lewis,

I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will. 

Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.

p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder. 

From Bunny. <3

-

One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.

His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.

Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.

He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well. 

He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.

He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture. 

He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races. 

Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week. 

*

You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.

When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high. 

Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by. 

Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.

You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.

You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed. 

All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner. 

The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.

Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.

"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.

"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"

Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you. 

You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front. 

"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."

You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."

When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.

A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces. 

You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck. 

So much for being able to avoid him.

You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.

You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.

"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime. 

"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"

"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."

It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.

Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads. 

You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.

This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht. 

You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it. 

Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet. 

An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins. 

He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?

And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other. 

Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.

"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"

"What's happened, my boy?"

Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.

"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.

Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?" 

Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.

"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."

You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."

"No, sir."

He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face. 

"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."

Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses. 

"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."

"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.

"Well, Yes, sir."

"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.

You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis. 

This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.

You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.

Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty. 

You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.

Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory. 

"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.

"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him. 

"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.

"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."

There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."

Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.

It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.

He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.

He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.

You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now. 

Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart. 

"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."

When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you. 

"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.

"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.

"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles. 

You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction. 

"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing. 

He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.

"Wow."

"Wow, what, Lewis?"

"So I'm Lewis now?" 

"Is that not your name?" You snap back.

You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.

"Not to you, you know that though."

"Nicknames are for friends." 

"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.

"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"

 you both childishly bicker back and forth.

“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."

"I've got a right to be mean to you."

"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.

"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."

"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."

"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.

"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.

"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."

"I wasn't about to call you a bitch." 

Yeah, again, you think. 

You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.

"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"

"That's my dad for you."

"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."

"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.

"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."

"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."

He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.

"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."

"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."

And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.

Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.

"You okay, bunny?"

You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.

You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics. 

"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent. 

And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.

"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.

You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.

"I'm still mad at you." You declare.

"I know." 

"I still want an apology."

"I'm sorry."

You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.

This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off. 

"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."

Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.

"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."

Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."

His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."

"But you never called me."

"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.

"I thought you were finally done with me."

"Never that."

"Are we okay?" You examine.

"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured. 

And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.

He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."

"I love you more." 

You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above. 

"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.

"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."

"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face. 

-

"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.

"What's that?"

"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."

Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in. 

He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.

That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him. 

"What?" You question.

"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."

"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.

"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again. 

"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.

He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else. 

Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.

As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.

You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.

You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.

"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.

She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout. 

"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.

"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."

"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."

You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.

You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."

Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."

-

Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.

 She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.

"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."

When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.

You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."

"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.

You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.

"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you. 

"I think you are, though."

Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.

"Whit." It's all you say.

"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."

"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.

She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.

"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"

"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"

"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"

As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.

Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together. 

You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain. 

Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.

"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.

"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.

"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.

You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"

The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.

"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.

She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face. 

You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.

When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.

"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."

"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.

"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.

"I need to tell Lewis."

"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."

You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.

"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.

"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"

"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."

"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders. 

"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.

"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"

You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.

There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.

"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."

You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.

He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.

"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."

He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours."

You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"

"Are you sure?"

You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"

"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"

"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."

"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."

"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.

"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."

"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"

"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.

"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"

"Yes, but."

"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."

"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."

"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."

"What about everyone else? What will they say?"

"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."

"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"

"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."

"Lewis, they're going to-"

"Once again, I don't care what people think."

"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."

"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.

"My child," you state, mushing his head back.

His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."

"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"

"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.

This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."

"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.

He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.

"Lew, that's not realistic."

"Why not?" He scoffs.

"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"

"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."

He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."

"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.

"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day." 

"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.

"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.

"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."

"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.

"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.

"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one." 

"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow. 

"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?" 

You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.

"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.

"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.

"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."

He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."

You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."

Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been. 

You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold. 

And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too. 

Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.

I luv luv luv y'all.

so here's part two!

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ birthday boy, a. iosivas. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: the birthday boy's turning 25. it's only right he gets his present.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: okay so boom, storytime. this idea hit me exactly five hours ago after i saw a clip of troye giving vinnie a lap dance on tour. immediately thought about subby!andrei which is perfect bc i wanted to write a bday fic for him anyways. so i hope y'all enjoy. she's short and sweet <3

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, lap dance, grinding, handjob, blowjob, a hint of sub!andrei, description of ejaculation.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: andrei iosivas x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 1.9k.

You stepped out of the shower, the steam enveloping your naked body like a warm embrace. The scent of vanilla and musk filled the air, a tantalizing hint of what was to come. You toweled off with a hum to yourself, your passion twists clinging to the dampness as you walked into the bedroom, your bare feet whispering on the plush carpet. You glanced at the bed, where Andrei, your boyfriend, lay sprawled out, scrolling through his phone.

He looked up at you, his brown eyes smoldering as he took in your freshly scrubbed skin. "You're killing me, baby," he murmured, his hand unconsciously adjusting his growing erection through his pants. "I can't wait for this surprise anymore."

You giggled, your full lips curving in a knowing smile. "Patience, birthday boy," you sang, your voice a velvety purr. 

You strutted over to the dresser, your naked curves swaying with a seductive grace. From the top drawer, you pulled out a black lace lingerie set, holding it up against your body in the mirror. The reflection revealed your dark areolas and the promise of more to come. You slipped on the lingerie, feeling the material hug your curves like a second skin.

Andrei's eyes followed your every move, his breath hitching as he watched you change into your underwear. His dick strained against the fabric of his pants, a silent plea for release. You noticed his struggle and couldn't resist a little tease. You turned to face him, throwing your passion twists over your shoulder without a word before reaching for his Bluetooth speaker on the nightstand.

Andrei's eyes widened in anticipation as you reached for his phone, the light from the bedside lamp casting shadows across your body, making you seem to glow. Without a moment of hesitation, he handed it over, your manicured fingers navigating to Spotify. You hit the play button and a sultry R&B melody filled the room.

The first notes of your sex playlist hit the air, a bass line that vibrated through his chest and straight to his lower half. His eyes never left you as you turned the volume up just right, a knowing look on your face. He recognized the first track immediately, your favorite song that never failed to set the mood.

You strutted back over to the bed, your hips moving to the rhythm as if the music lived in your very bones. Andrei's eyes traced the lines of your body, the silk of your skin glistening under the soft light. He cursed to himself, his gaze devouring every inch of you.

"Sit up," you ordered, gesturing to the edge of the bed. Your tone was playful but firm, leaving no room for argument. Andrei did as he was told, his legs trembling slightly as he followed your command, his heart racing.

You positioned the speaker just right, ensuring that the music surrounded you both. You stepped closer, your movements fluid as water, and began to sway in front of him. The beat of the song matched the rhythm of your hips, which rolled in a mesmerizing dance that made Andrei's mouth water. You placed one hand on his shoulder, your nails digging in slightly as you ground yourself against his thigh. He released a breath, his cock jumping in response.

Your other hand trailed down your body, teasing your skin as you moved. Andrei watched, his eyes following the path you took, his own hand twitching with the desire to do the same. The room grew hotter, the air thick with lust as the music grew more intense.

The second song began to play, an impossibly slower song. You stepped closer to Andrei, your thighs parting to straddle him. You placed your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging in slightly as you began to grind against him. He groaned, his dick straining against you, desperate for contact.

"Take your pants off," you breathed, your voice low and commanding. 

Andrei's hands shook as he unbuckled his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. He slid his pants down, revealing his boxer briefs, the fabric tented with his arousal. You licked your lips, a wicked glint in your eye.

Your hands traveled down your stomach, your fingertips grazing the edge of your lace panties. Andrei could see the dampness already soaking through the fabric, a testament to your own desire. He groaned, his hips bucking up to meet yours as you slid closer, your wetness brushing against him.

"Not yet," you whispered, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. 

You leaned in, your breath hot on his neck as you kissed him lightly. Your teeth grazed his earlobe, sending a shiver down his spine. "First, the full show."

The music was a siren's call, guiding Andrei's eyes as they traced the lines of your body. He watched, his breathing ragged, as you reached behind your back and unclasped the bra. It fell away, revealing your firm, round breasts. They bounced slightly as you moved, your hardened nipples peaked with arousal.

"You're so beautiful, princess," he murmured, his voice thick with need.

You giggled, the sound low and throaty. "Thank you, Drei," you said, leaning in to kiss him, your breasts pressing against his bare chest. Your hand snaked around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss grew deeper, your tongue slipping into his mouth to tangle with his. Andrei groaned, his hands sliding around to cup your ass, his thumbs grazing the damp fabric of your panties.

The third song kicked in, a rhythmic bass that had you both grinding against each other. You pulled away, a glint of mischief in your eyes. You stepped back, placing a hand on his chest to keep him seated as you turned around. You bent at the waist, your ass high in the air as you slid the panties down, revealing your toned backside. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Andrei's breath caught in his throat as you stepped out of the lace, leaving it in a pool at your feet. He took in the view of your bare pussy, already glistening with excitement. The music grew more intense, and you began to dance again, your movements slower and more deliberate. You knelt to your knees, your ass swaying as you grabbed the base of his cock through his boxers, your nails scraping gently along his length.

He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as you began to tug at his boxers. Inch by torturous inch, you revealed his hardened shaft, until it sprang free, standing proudly against his stomach. Your hand wrapped around it, your grip firm but gentle as you began to stroke him in time with the beat.

Andrei's hands clenched the bed, his chest heaving with each stroke you administered. The room was alive with the throb of the bass. Your grip tightened, your thumb tracing the precum beading at the tip of his cock. You leaned in, your warm breath fanning over his shaft, and whispered, "You want me to suck it?"

"Fuck yes," he hissed, the words barely leaving his mouth before you took him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him like a warm, wet glove. Andrei's eyes rolled back in his head, the sensation of your tongue swirling around his head nearly sending him over the edge. You sucked him deep, your cheeks hollowing as you took him to the back of your throat. The sight of you eagerly pleasuring him was almost too much to handle.

Your hand kept rhythm with your mouth, your nails lightly raking his thighs as you worked him. Andrei's hips began to move, thrusting up to meet your mouth, his control slipping away as the music swelled around the two of you. You moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him. He watched in the mirror across from the bed, his muscles tensing at the sight of the back of your head bobbing up and down his length, your twists flowing down your back.

The music grew more intense, and you pulled away, panting. "Take these off," you demanded, pointing to his boxer briefs. Andrei complied, his cock bobbing free as he kicked the material away.

You straddled him again, this time with your slick pussy pressing against his thigh. Andrei groaned, his hands reaching for your hips, but you slapped them away playfully. 

"Not yet," you purred, your breath warm and sweet. Instead, you reached for his chin, tilting it up to meet your gaze.

Your eyes searched his tensing features, the music a pulsing heartbeat in the background. Andrei's own heart hammered in his chest, his anticipation a tangible force in the air. You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest, and kissed him hard. Your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, stroking him from base to tip in time with the beat of the music.

"I wanna give my birthday boy the best present," you murmured, your voice a siren's whisper that sent another jolt of need through Andrei's body as he moaned painfully. You continued your movements over his shaft, watching as he groaned out. 

His brown eyes closed as he whispered, "You're the only present I need, baby."

"Gonna come for me, birthday boy?" You taunted, your hand moving faster, your thumb circling the sensitive ridge of his head. Andrei's eyes snapped open, meeting yours, and he nodded frantically, unable to form words through his lust. The room was a symphony of his heavy breathing and the bass of the music, your bodies moving in perfect sync to the rhythm.

"Come for me, Drei," you encouraged, your strokes now a blur as you watched him, his eyes locked on yours. His hips bucked, his body begging for release. He was so close, so very close.

And then the dam broke. Andrei's body tensed, a moan ripping from his chest as he came, spurts of hot cum landing on his stomach and chest. You slowed your movements, your hand milking him through the last of his orgasm, watching with a smug smile as his cock twitched and spasmed in your grip.

The music switched to a new song, something slower, more sensual, as you climbed off of him. You stood to your full height and leaned down to kiss him again. He tasted himself on your lips and groaned as you deepened the kiss.

"I love you," Andrei murmured against your mouth, his breathing still heavy. Your smile grew wider as you broke the kiss, your eyes sparkling with satisfaction. You leaned over him, your breasts brushing against his chest as you reached for a towel, his hands reaching to steady your hips. You wiped the evidence of his release from his body, your movements gentle and tender.

"Thank you, baby," Andrei managed to say, his voice still thick with pleasure. Your eyes softened as they met his, a soft smile playing on your lips as you leaned back in to kiss him again, your tongue dancing with his in a slow, passionate dance.

"I love you too, baby. Happy birthday," you murmured against his lips, your breath sweet and warm. Andrei's eyes fluttered closed as he savored the taste of your mouth, feeling a sense of peace wash over him, the afterglow of his climax lingering as his muscles relaxed.

[dtchloedecker]

closed starter for @lucifermorningstxr

Chloe was so angry, she could barely see straight, so she wound up pacing agitatedly. Lucifer was sitting at her desk and Eve had chosen that moment to give him a head massage. Chloe fought the urge to vomit. Did Eve HAVE to do that NOW?

Even though Lucifer said he still wanted to be partners, Chloe couldn't help feeling like he was going out of his way to punish her. He came in every day constantly talking about his sexcapades with Eve. If he wanted to torture Chloe it was working. But, she never said anything because she definitely deserved it. She had betrayed him, screwing up any chance she had with him.  Of course she snapped a LITTLE bit when he when he showed up at a crime scene wearing "orgy pants," but it actually seemed like he felt bad for upsetting her. For the past two days, it seemed like things were going back to normal between them.

But, today, Lucifer was in rare form. He showed up at the crime scene with Eve who wanted to learn about "catching bad guys." When Chloe told Lucifer that it wasn't okay, he threatened that he and Eve would just go after the killer on their own, so she agreed to let Eve join them just for this one case and immediately regretted it.

The first woman was loud and shrill and very hyperactive. In fact, Lucifer was practically chasing her around the bullpen like a father who brought his three-year-old daughter to work. She constantly talked about how she wanted to see Lucifer beat up the suspects. In fact, when they went to question Pony Boy and he asked for his lawyer, Eve told Lucifer to "torture the truth out of him until his lawyer shows up" and then proceeded to heavily make out with him as Chloe was arresting Pony Boy.

Things got worse when the three of them went to see Jacob Tiernan, Julian's father. Lucifer accused him of being worse than his son and Eve had to chime in calling him a true monster. Then, Lucifer had the audacity to ORDER Chloe to leave the room so he could punish Tiernan then started to bend a metal chair like a pipe cleaner. Chloe stood on his right, telling him to stop while Eve on his left encouraged him. Chloe was lucky that she was the one who got through to him and they left.

"Tiernan killed Sam, but we have no proof!" she ranted when they got back to the precinct. "So, Tiernan is gonna double his legal defense now that you’ve hulked out in his office."

She chose ignore Lucifer's response because she knew it would piss her off even further.

"What about this other guy? Pony Boy?" Eve chimed in. "Pony Boy already posted bail," Chloe answered. "So, you're saying we don't get to punish anybody?" Eve whined and then to Lucifer, "Honey, you promised."

Whatever patience with Little Miss Clueless that Chloe was holding on to slipped away from her. "THAT'S. NOT. HOW. WE. DO. THINGS. HERE. EVE!" Chloe yelled, slapping the back of one hand into the palm of the other on every word. "Please, remind me, why are you even here?!"

"I wanna help punish the bad guys," Eve pouted. Actually POUTED.

"Well, you've done NOTHING to help!" Chloe raged. "You've actually made things worse for the case! Pony Boy was supposed to remanded without bail, but thanks to your little comment about torturing the truth out of him, his lawyer was able to use that as an argument to post bail. He said that the LAPD was trying to coerce a confession out of him."

"Well, that's not good," Eve said. Then her eyes widened and she broke out into a huge grin. "We should punish the lawyer!"

"It's not your place to punish ANYONE, Eve!" Chloe didn't think it was possible to get any angrier. "Just because you're boning the devil doesn't make you a punisher! So, do me a favor and SHUT THE FUCK UP!" And before Lucifer could even open his mouth, Chloe held up her hand to him to stop him. "Don't, Lucifer! Not after you ORDERED me to leave the room like I'm your subordinate!"

Chloe couldn't stay in here anymore. She needed to be away from the two of them. "I need air," she said, not bothering to wait for them to answer her. She didn't bother waiting for the elevator. She just went up the stairs one level to the car park and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down as she stepped outside.

[bella-goths-wife]

Kiss the barrel of my gun softly: chapter six

Chapter warnings: angst, arguments, mentions of non-con, confessions, brief smut, oral (R receiving), kissing, fluff, ooc Sevika, lmk if I missed anyway :)

Sevika pants loudly as she looks at you with a concentrated expression, her hard, toned body covered with splatterings of blood that told a gruesome story. She doesn’t speak as she looks you up and down and tries not to admire your lustful figure in the silk underwear that you were wearing, looking like a gift wrapped wet dream.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in confusion as you attempt to cover yourself by crossing your arms 

Sevika doesn’t answer with anything but a grunt before she’s shutting the door behind her and turning her back to you, blocking your only exit.

“Stop, what are you doing?” you say in confusion and slight irritation as you walk forward “I have a client coming, Sevika you can’t be here”

“He won’t be coming” she grunts out before holding up the key that had been given to the winner of the auction that would grant them the ability to unlock your door, using it to lock the door before throwing it on the coffee table next to the loveseat in front of the bed.

You look down at the bloodied key and back up at her, a slight bit of fear gnawing its way into your bones as your eyes widen. Sevika wouldn’t hurt you, right?

“What did you do to him?” you ask quietly, your arms tightening around yourself

“I outbid him” she answers stoically as she turns to face you “I’m your client now”

There's a silence as you stare at her and try to process her words and expression.

“Why would you do that?” you ask in shock, eyes widened in your skull as you move closer.

She stood in silence as she looked at you with her stoic glare piercing into your barely covered body, refusing to answer your question. Your mind became a rage filled machine as you made your own assumptions.

“Is this some sort of game?” you ask with a scoff “some sort of big joke from Silco?”

“Silco doesn’t know about this” Sevika speaks quickly with an almost defensive tone

“So this is just for you? A way to humiliate me further?” you ask in an angered tone, your hands balled up into fists “kick me when I’m down?”

Sevika only scoffs and that seems to only tick you off more as you walk closer and look up at her to glare at her coldly.

“Wanted to gloat? Prove to me that you’ve won?” you yell out in anger “show that you’ve reduced me to a whore just so i can keep my business?”

“I did it for you” She exclaims suddenly as she walks forward to look down at you with a glare, a part of her so annoyed that you’d call yourself such names when in her eyes you were the furthest thing.

“For me? You did this for me?” you repeat in disbelief and anger “your the one who put me in this situation in the first place”

“I had to make you see sense, you need to attend this meeting with Silco” She exclaims defensively “you're playing with fire and i just wanted to make sure you don’t get yourself killed”

“Please don’t act like this is some selfless act” you scoff out with an accusatory tone “you created a problem for me and then made yourself the solution, this isn’t you saving me this is you trying to make things go your way again”

“I never thought you’d enact a night with the Madame, I assumed you’d just go to the meeting with Silco and get yourself out of this rivalry” She speaks with frustration in her tone and face as she walks closer, causing you to take small steps back “do you know how stupid that was? How angry it made me to hear those idiots in the bar brag about the disgusting things they were gonna do to you?”

“So this is a jealousy thing then?” you ask with a sneer, anger clouding your judgement and making you unable to see Sevika’s clear intentions “you wanted to be the one to fuck me? The one to do dirty things to me?”

“What?” Sevika looks taken aback and almost offended as she goes to reach for your hand and continues to walk forward toward you “no, I-”

“You want me just like old times huh?” you ask tauntingly with a sneer as you yank your hand back and continue taking steps back to avoid her touch “gonna bend me over-”

“No” she interrupts with a frustratedly desperate expression “that's not-”

“Hold my arms down?” you carry on in a rage filled rampage “put your fingers inside me? Put your tongue inside me?”

“Stop” she commands quietly but it comes off more as begging.

“Put your hand over my mouth to make sure no one hears?” you continue as you keep stepping back “mark up my neck? Leave bite marks on my tits?-”

“Stop” Sevika yells suddenly as she reaches her breaking point, the change in tone shocking you so much that you take a few more steps backwards and feel the bed on the back of your legs.

You feel yourself losing your balance as your legs hit the bed and you grab onto the first thing you can reach for, incidentally grabbing onto the front of Sevika’s shirt and accidentally bringing her down with you.

Her mechanical arm coming above your head to brace herself from crushing you as you both fall on the bed, her other hand holding onto your hip to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. You look up at her in the familiar position above you with wide eyes as she pants.

She looks down at you and can’t help the flurry of images entering her mind of past encounters like this, but the look of slight fear stops in your eyes stops those thoughts in their tracks. She just sighs and places her forehead against yours in a soothing manner.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you” She admits gently through a sigh, mirroring the words you had spoken so many times at the start of your relationship 

“Then what do you want from me?” you ask quietly, your vulnerability beginning to crack through in your weak tone.

Sevika looks down at you with a softened gaze and you can see how exhausted she looks. You gently caress her cheek with your palm and she immediately leans into your touch.

“I just…..” she struggles to place the words on her tongue as a conflicted expression crosses her face “I just want to hold you, talk to you about my day and listen to you talk or just listening to you breathe”

Her eyes look into yours with an amount of vulnerability that almost makes her uncomfortable to express, her arms tighten around you as if she were preventing you from running and leaving her sight again.

“I want us to be like we used to be, even if it’s only for tonight” she confesses quietly with pleading eyes “please, just let us be us for a night”

You look at her in shock for a moment before nodding silently and signalling her to stand up, which she does but she keeps her hand firmly on your hip as you do the same. You pull the covers of the bed up before laying her in the bed on her back and quickly joining her after removing her shoes and cape. You lay your head against her chest and listen to her thrumming heartbeat and pulling the covers over your bodies, this action somehow feeling more intimate than if the two of you had actually had sex.

“So” you say gently as you wrap an arm around her and her fingers ran through your hair “tell me about your day”

—————————-past————————————

You hadn’t been yourself since your argument with Sevika, and it had been obvious to everyone as multiple brothel girls and Madame Emerald had questioned you about your low mood. 

You cursed yourself for doing something so stupid as falling for the emotionless woman, the woman who was a known womanizer and a known heartbreaker. But she never acted that way with you, she was just Sevika with you.

You were lounging on your bed when you heard knocking on your window, not surprising as sometimes some of the girls used your window to sneak back in after going out after being given a punishment ban from Madame. 

What was surprising was the sight of Sevika hanging onto the ledge with all her might with one hand and the other hand clutching at a small bunch of flowers. You look down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your cold tone making Sevika recoil slightly

“I’m here to see you” Sevika states stoically with a hesitant expression

“Obviously” you say with an unimpressed expression and a pointed look towards the ledge she was holding onto.

Sevika just lets out a long sigh before willing herself to look back up at you.

“I want to talk about us” she says calmly, her tone softening slightly in hopes of convincing you

You think for a moment before sighing and stepping aside and letting her climb her way into your room with a few grunts as you sit on your bed. Sevika approaches you slowly as if she was afraid you’d run if she moved too suddenly.

“I brought you these” she says stoically as she hands you the flowers and looks away, the flowers were the real thing instead of the usual undercity fakes you were so used to and you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t impressed.

“Thank you” you say quietly as you place the flowers on your nightstand.

There’s a moment of silence as Sevika sits beside you on the bed and you're both unsure of how to start this conversation.

“I’m still upset with you” you reveal quietly as you fiddle with your fingers anxiously.

“I know” Sevika lets out a long sigh “just please let me explain?”

You nod silently as you look up at her, but Sevika keeps her eyes straight and away from meeting yours. She knows she’ll be able to express herself better as long as she’s not looking in your pretty little eyes.

“I know that I said I didn’t want us to have a public relationship, and I know I said a lot of other things to piss you off” Sevika speaks quietly and shifts around in an uncomfortable manner, clearly not used to apologising “but I never meant to hurt you”

You stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt her when she was finally opening up a bit and telling you how she felt.

“I know you don’t like sneaking around Madame Emeralds back, I don’t particularly enjoy sneaking around Silco’s” Sevika states gruffly “but I do it for your own protection, I don’t know how Silco would react to this but I don’t want him to put a target on your back, not to mention all the other people who wanna get to me and would see hurting you as the perfect opportunity”

You stay quiet and look away from her, you know her points are valid but there's something so frustrating about the fact that she’s right.

“I want you, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted most things in my life” She confesses with a humourless chuckle but the way her eyes glared showed she was fully serious “I want you to be mine and no one else's, I wanna rip the hands off any asshole who touches you, I want you so bad that it scares me that other people will notice and you’ll be taken from me”

You couldn’t help the way her words deeply satisfied a dark part of you, couldn’t help how much you wanted to hold her close and have her whisper those words over and over again in your ears.

“Please, say something” She begs quietly as her fists clench, scared her confession would only end in embarrassment. 

You think for a moment on how to respond, but your emotions quickly took over and your mouth and heart was quicker to respond than your mind was.

“We could be together without the bullshit if we just talked to our bosses” you speak quietly with a frown “I don’t understand why we can’t even try”

“I know” Sevika sighs out, she can understand why you couldn’t see things from her perspective. You were used to the gentle leadership of Madame Emerald and she was used to the firm eye of Silco, both two different experiences with their own challenges that neither one of them could understand.

A moment of silence happens between the two of you, but a thousand words are passed between your shared gazes. Longing, disappointment and adoration dances between your eyes before you look away.

“Maybe…..” you start with an apprehensive expression “maybe we’re just not meant to be”

“No” Sevika responds firmly as her hand quickie holds onto yours “don’t say that”

“I won’t keep sneaking around Sevika, and I won’t leave Madame’s care or the position as her assistant” you state firmly but your face looked like pure defeat “and I won’t ask you to leave Silco’s employment, I won’t do it”

“I know….” Sevika speaks quietly to contain her own frustrations at the situation “I know that”

“Then what do you suggest we do?” you muttered out quietly with a despairing expression

“I’m not sure” Sevika admits through a murmur as she avoids your eyes.

“I love you Sevika, I’m in love with you” you confess softly as your thumb rubs the hand that holds your own “but I can’t keep sneaking around”

“I know” She replies with a sorrowful expression.

There's a beat of silence as a hesitant expression crosses your face, your mouth constantly opening to speak and quickly snapping shut again.

“Do you think Silco would say yes if you asked if you could be with me?” you ask quietly, your face turning ever so slightly hopeful.

“I doubt it” Sevika answers honestly with a blunt but regretful tone.

“Even if he and Madame made a deal and she gave us her blessing?” you ask with desperation in your tone

“It's not likely” Sevika tries to reason with you without crushing your hope all together “he still doesn’t trust emerald”

The silence between the two of you is deafening but is quickly stopped when gentle sniffling escapes you and small tears run their way down your cheeks as you're unable to contain your sadness. Sevika feels herself crumble at the sight of your tears as her hands quickly caresses your cheeks and her thumb wipes away your tears gently, you lean into her touch instantly.

“Do you think….. do you think you could just ask?” You ask almost desperately as your voice comes out as if you were pleading “you don’t have to commit to anything, just asking enough-”

“I’ll ask…” Sevika responds quickly, not thinking about the consequences of her words. She just wanted to make you happy again without knowing the weight of her words.

“Thank you” you breath out softly, a relieved expression crossing your face.

You lean forward and press your lips against hers softly, enjoying the feeling of her rough lips against your own soft ones. The kiss lasted only seconds before you pulled away, leaning your forehead against hers.

“I… I love you” Sevika whispers out softly, the words feeling unfamiliar on her tongue but your adoring expression quickly made her feel like the words were the most appropriate for how she felt about you.

“I love you too” you whisper back as you look up at her with nothing but pure, desperate yearning.

Her head dips down and her lips meet yours once again, only this kiss contained more fire, more yearning, more desperation. She wanted to feel you, she wanted to consume you gently and know in her heart of hearts that you were hers body and soul.

You respond in a similar manner as you move your head slightly to the side for her to kiss you deeper, revelling in the sensation of her lips on yours and the arousal it unleashed within you. 

You let out a soft gasp as she parts your lips slightly and her tongue licks at your mouth feverishly, the kiss growing more desperate and sloppy as the seconds ticked by. Sevika didn’t care about the mess she was making, all she cared about was having that sound fall from your lips again.

She drags you onto her lap so that you were straddling her thigh, you comply with utter obedience as you let her manhandle you in whatever way she wishes. Your arms wrapped around her thick neck and her hands clutched your hips gently but firmly, feeling the cold bite of her mechanical hand through your nightdress sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

Sevika lets out a soft grunt as her hand buries itself into your hair to bring you impossibly closer and to deepen the kiss into a messy dance of tongues fighting and teeth clashing. Your eyes close as you enjoy the intimacy between the two of you.

Sevika’s hand leaves your hair to grasp the bottom of your nightdress, but a hesitant look crosses her face as she stops herself from lifting it up and pulls away from your kiss. You look at her with a puppy dog like confusion that only endeared you more to her.

“Need to know if you want this, pretty” she speaks softly as her hand rubs circles into your hips “need you to tell me-”

“I want you, Vika” you cut her off quickly as you pant, feeling the arousal gathered in your gut become uncomfortable with the need to be relieved “need you to touch me”

Sevika is caught off guard by your sudden neediness, considering you’d been the one denying her advances for almost a year now. She’d assumed  you’d hold out longer but here you were, trembling like a virgin over a little kissing. She can’t help the small smirk that spreads across her lips.

“Yeah?” she asks slightly condescendingly, to which you nod your head eagerly “how bad?”

The only response she is given is a needy whine as you grind your hips against her thigh, desperate to relieve the throbbing between your legs. She chuckles meanly but quickly shuts up when you frustratedly pull your night dress up and off your body, leaving you writhing on her lap in only your cotton panties.

“Please” you beg softly as you look up at her with your big, innocent looking eyes “Sevika, please fuck me”

That was the moment that Sevika knew, the moment she knew deep down that you had her wrapped around your little finger.

She lifted you up by your hips, causing you to squeal and wrap your arms around her muscular neck. She throws you down on the bed and crawls over your body, her mechanical hand clawing at the pillow near your head and having the feathers accidentally spill out around you.

You let out a soft laugh at her accidental destruction and Sevika swears you look like an angel as your panting, blushing, aroused figure is surrounded by white feathers and you look up at her with blown out pupils and a gentle smile.

You can’t help the soft gasps that leave your throat as she kisses her way down your body, paying extra attention to your breasts and nibbling gently before she reaches your clothed core, an approving grunt leaving her lips at the sight of the dark arousal staining your cotton panties.

“So wet” she mumbles out as she presses her thumb to your twitching clit from over your panties, leaving you to buck up into her touch “real desperate for me, huh sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly as you buck your hips up again, wanting to savour the intimate touch but at the same time wanting to hurry the fuck up and touch you properly. Sevika just chuckles as she pulls down your panties slowly, eyes darkening at the sight of the wetness connecting them to your aching core.

Sevika crawls between your legs and rests your legs on her muscular shoulders, admiring your cunt with a dark expression that excites you deeply. Her tongue leaves her parted lips and traces its way through your soaked folds gently as she savours the taste of you on her eager tongue.

You throw your head back with a melodic cry, catching your bottom lip between your sharp teeth to stifle yourself and clawing at the sheets to prevent your hands from dragging through her short hair and shoving her tongue deeper into your aching cunt.

As Sevika disappears into the apex of your thighs, you knew you were in for a long night. You had denied her advances for a year and left her high and dry on many occasions, Sevika wasn’t a forgiving woman and you knew she’d make your punishment long enough to ensure you paid for your sins.

You knew that this intimate act had sealed your fates and that you were now intertwined despite the many reasons you shouldn’t be. 

You simply didn’t care.

—————————-present——————————-

Sevika awakens in the same position the two of you had been in last night, with you snoring away softly on her chest and her with her arms wrapped tightly around you as if you were gonna up and run in the night.

She couldn’t help but stare down at you and wonder how you had both ended up like this, one minute deeply and madly in love and the next you were clawing at ways to hurt one another.

Though she doubts you’ll ever find a way to hurt her as much as her actions had hurt you.

She wanted to keep you safe, in the end all she did was push you further into the venus fly trap of danger. But there was one thing she could keep you safe from, Silco.

He wouldn’t loosen up on his careful observation of you unless you attended his meeting and agreed to do business with him, or at least be civil and lift your no Silco workers ban.

And the longer you didn’t attend this meeting, the bigger the target on your back would grow.

Sevika stills as she feels you start to stir, her arms tightening around you before loosening up slightly when you let out a huff.

“Morning” you mumble out as you look up at her with a barely awake expression “how did you sleep-”

“Please go to the meeting with Silco” Sevika cuts you off quickly with a pleading expression

You're taken aback at her sudden request, your eyes widening as you look up at her with an ‘are you serious face?’ you’d almost be angry at her if it weren't for her desperate expression alongside something akin to fear within her eyes.

“Please” she pleads with you again as she hides her face in your messy hair “I can’t lose you, even if your not mine anymore”

You look up at her and you can't help but feel yourself soften and the wall you’d built up between the two of you crumble to the ground. You wanted to be angry with her but with the way she held onto you like a desperate child clinging to a toy for comfort you just couldn’t.

“Okay….” you agree gently as you rub her arm soothingly “I’ll go to the meeting”

Sevika visibly relaxes at your words as her hold loosened and she let herself melt into your touch.

“You won’t lose me” you reassure gently “you won’t lose me Vika”

Sorry if the smut was cringe i suck at smut scenes :(

[plutoswritingplanet]

could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?

You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)

a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3

Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes

Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.

Part 2.

You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.

There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.

"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.

They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.

So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.

"Hostage!"

Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.

Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."

You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.

"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.

"Barely."

"Can you dance though?"

"Barely as well."

He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.

"You'll be performing in our next act."

Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".

"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.

They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"

The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.

"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"

He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.

Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.

"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.

"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.

He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.

"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.

"Sing for me some more" he says.

And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.

A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.

And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.

It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.

An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.

Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.

Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.

You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"

You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.

"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."

At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.

So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.

"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.

"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."

He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.

"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"

Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.

"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"

Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.

"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.

Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.

Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.

"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.

"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."

You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.

Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.

"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.

Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.

"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.

So he hasn't let this one go.

No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.

"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.

He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.

You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Congratulations on the well-deserved 900 followers.

"That was the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Carnival Date

Don't ask me how, but this turned into 600 words

It had taken a little convincing, and maybe a few well placed bribes, but you had managed to get Jason Todd to join you at the Gotham City fairgrounds.

You had planned it all, carnival games, pig races, greasy, fried fair food, and rides that made you want to puke all that food back up.

It was nearly perfect, even if Jason didn't seem completely excited, he still won you a prize at the shooting game. (Stunning the worker who had seemed so sure he would lose) He still indulged in milkshakes, chili dogs, and enough fried dough you nearly went into a food coma.

But for as fun as it all was, it wasn't perfect enough. You wanted him to have a good day. A day he could look back on as a fond memory. A memory with you.

And you had almost done it! Almost created the best, most wonderful day. Until it started to rain, just before you got in line for the ferris wheel.

Jason had been quick to usher you both undercover, watching as the busy crowds practically disappeared to seek shelter from the impending storm.

The dark, rolling clouds made your heart drop. It wasn't supposed to rain today. You had checked the weather, found the one day Gotham was supposed to have sun, planned incessantly, done everything you could to make the day amazing, and now it was ruined. And you had barely managed to make him smile.

Your shoulders slump, trying to hide the defeated look on your face as the sky starts to downpour. Which was sooo great, of course. You're sure Jason will love getting soaked to the bone.

Who are you kidding? You shift your weight, certain he'll never go anywhere with you again.

"This was the most fun I've had in years," Jason's easy tone cuts through your self-deprecating thoughts, and you snap your head towards him.

He can't be serious. You narrow your eyes slightly, almost offended he would lie, "It's raining."

He nods sagely, holding his hand out to catch some droplets on his fingers, "That it is."

"It doesn't look like it's going to stop," You point out.

"No, it doesn't," he agrees idly, eyes finally meeting yours.

"We're going to get wet," you try, uncertain why he seems so calm.

"We can use my jacket as cover if it bothers you," he drawls, already moving to tug his arms out of the sleeves.

"No," You say quickly, grabbing his arm to stop him. He goes still, and his lips quirk up in a half-smirk.

"Then what's the problem? We can handle some rain," he asks, catching your fingers when you move to drop your hand. He rubs your hand between his palms, and you didn't realize how cold they were until he starts sharing his warmth.

"I just– I wanted today to be nice," you mumble, a little embarrassed.

"It was, still is," he says, voice as soft as his eyes.

You fall quiet for a moment, biting back most of the arguments you want to make as he continues to warm your hands, "The fair's going to close."

"We can go to that restaurant down the street instead," he suggests, tugging your hand into his pocket. He does it so casually, you almost don't even register it, "the one you like to get takeout from?"

You stare at him, one hand in his jacket pocket, and the other on the prize he's won for you. He always seems to find a way to catch you off guard, to shut down every negative thought circulating in your head.

"Yeah. Okay," You agree, almost knocked breathless by the smile that spreads across his face.

"Good. C'mon," he tells you, and soon enough, you find yourself giggling and running from cover to cover with him.

Your clothes stick to your skin, your socks are soaked, and your hair is completely unsalvageable, but his eyes are just as bright as yours. And it's perfect.

[trancylovecraft]

Yandere Douma x reader?

(KNY) YANDERE! DOUMA x READER: Headcannons

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: i entered the nowhere dimension the other day and returned with a forbidden scroll that told me how to homo my text. also WARNING! this thing is LONG. GENDER: Femme FANDOM: Demon Slayer

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Let's see.. Douma! Upper Moon Two? Leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult? Emotionless demon who likes to eat women specifically for their nutritious value?

Oooooo, This is gonna be a tough one for you!

I view Douma as an Obsessive, Clingy, Possessive and Sadistic yandere.

Obsessive in the way that Douma just can't help but get to know everything about you! His beloved! Every little thing you are- Your hobbies- Your personality- The way your eyes flicker when you're overjoyed. All of it is such a drug to him!

Clingy in the way that you must be close to him at all times, It's a need. Douma will always be touching you in some form, Whether it be an arm around your shoulder- You sitting on his lap or your lips on his. Wherever you are- You must be nearby.

Possessive in the way that you're his with no argument. To him, You are his belonging. And as such if he wants to toy around with you then he will, Your reactions to this only serve to amuse him which leads onto our next point.

Sadistic in the way that he just loves to poke and prod at you to get a reaction. He loves to see you squirm, To cry or laugh. It doesn't matter whether it's positive or negative- As long as you react, He'll be just fine.

Whether you view Douma as a product of his upbringing or an evil-to-the-bone bad guy- It doesn't particularly matter.

I'd think the only way he'd ever become truly obsessed is if you yourself somehow spark something in him. A strike of colour in a greyscale.

I see two ways of this occurring.

The first is where you're a member of his cult. Perhaps a rather beautiful or talented one that manages to ensnare his attention. Perhaps something about you stands out from the others, Or maybe you're average- Who knows? All that matters is that you caught his attention.

The second is where you're a demon slayer. Maybe you're a Hashira or a lower ranked slayer, One that just happens to stumble across a massacre caused by our one and only. Maybe you impress him with your skill, Or Douma may want to save you as a snack for later, Only to grow feelings towards you in the coming times.

I'm gonna go with the first.

Okay. So you're a member of The Eternal Paradise Cult! Let's say you were born into this convent, You grew up in this convent. The Buddhist statues and the prayer ceremonies- It's all you've ever known. You worship some immortal figure with red eyes, Preached to you by your convent's prophet, Douma.

Douma is a rather unfamiliar figure to you. For one, You barely see him- Not having spoken a word to him at all! You only see him during ceremonies and occasionally on night-time walks.

You're described by your fellow men and women of faith as a woman with a sweet and demure nature. You're known for the way you can bond with a Shamisen, How your fingers run across the strings and you can serenade crowds in an instant.

But you don't perform for the cult, Not like some of the other girls- No.

You much prefer to keep your talent's to yourself, Maybe play a private concert if another member asked you nicely enough. Despite the constant praise- You don't particularly think that you're good enough to perform, Let alone for his grace!

Maybe one day if you improve.. Perhaps someday..

Douma himself is a man of the arts. He enjoys dancing, He has women flock to him to play their music for him. Tapestries of fine colour hang from every wall in the convent.

So it's safe to say as he's taking a stroll through one of the more secluded area's of the convent, He pauses once he hears such a beautiful melody.

Now Douma, Despite his penchant for the Arts- Isn't particularly moved by it. Though he enjoys the tune of a biwa or a koto, Enjoys the colours upon a pallet- Nothing really touches his heart, Nothing really makes him feel much as usual.

However there was something about this tune, Something about the way that shamisen was being strum.. It was interesting for him, It was a tune he hadn't ever heard in his centuries of living..

So he slides open the shoji door, Stepping inside as his eyes search the room..

To land on you.

You sat there on your knees, The shamisen delicately cradled within your arms as you tug at the strings with a pick. It was such a strong yet gentle tune you hummed along to, Not quite noticing him yet, Too invested within your instrument to care about your surroundings.

Douma finds it rather.. Amusing. Yes. That was the word. He stood there, His golden fan splayed across his mouth to conceal the expression laid upon his face. The music was so much more.. Poignant now that he was closer.

You're jolted out of your trance by the clearing of a throat.

You turn around with a mild expression, Ready to greet and/or apologise for the noise to whatever person that walked in here- Only to come face to face with the founder himself.

"O-Oh my- Your grace! I didn't notice your presence, I apologise-"

You quickly set your shamisen to the side, Lowering down so that your forehead kissed the tatami mats, Bowing to him in deep respect. Your heart thunders in your chest, Still reeling from the shock of seeing him there.

Douma finds that funny, The fan fluttering over his face to conceal the amusement on his face. He steps forward, Telling you to raise your head in such a kind and friendly voice.

He tells you that he had been on a stroll when he heard such beautiful noise. He asks you if you were the one to play it, Even though he already knows the answer to it.

You blush in embarrassment, Nodding your head as you gesture down to your shamisen. You feel both flattered and awkward that he had heard you play, And even call it beautiful..!

Douma asks you to play again, So you do. By the end of it he's clapping, Smiling, Telling you how the gods have blessed you with a talent none other has. He invites you to play for him tonight, Telling you that you should join the girls that do it on the regular.

And you- Of course- Aren't one to deny his grace, Are you? Especially since he had taken the time out of his day to listen to your music and call it beautiful..

So tonight you play for him, You do the best you can.

And that's how it is.

You join his little group of women who play for him each night and admittedly you enjoy it. Douma himself takes a rather keen liking to your talents, So do the other girls in your group.

Suddenly in your solitary life you gain much more friends, More recognition for your talents. Douma makes sure to keep you as one of his best musicians, Something that makes you so excited- To be so favoured by His Grace..!

And at some point, He promotes your status even higher to become apart of his harem. You have such a pretty face after all, And hey, There's a new space ever since he accidentally ate another girl who was apart of the harem. So don't worry about crowding him!

Your quick rise through the ranks of Eternal Paradise surprises you and your friends. All of this happens so fast- But you don't question it to Douma, His judgement is absolute of course! He's a messenger of the gods, So of course this all must be natural..!

It's difficult to say where he grows an obsession.

Though I'd say that it comes all at once, Douma has not point where it begins to 'grow', No, One moment he could be acting just as he usually does and the next he could be on his knees, Pupils in heart shapes as he fawns over you like a lovesick puppy.

Though I doubt he would actually show it, Though that's certainly how he feels on the inside when it does happen. Douma keeps these new emotions in check, Only really letting the 'louder' parts of it out in private.

But lets say that this obsession happens months into you joining his harem. You haven't gotten intimate with him yet to your surprise.

Lets say that during a festival down in the nearby village of Hiyohara- A celebration that your convent celebrates with the upmost favour is occurring once more. It's a favoured holiday of yours- A time you love and cherish while spending it with your family.

But somehow this time you end up with Douma, Maybe because you became lost in the crowd and just lingered near the familiar figure of His Grace. Maybe he let you accompany him, Even though he had no care for you at this point in time.

Maybe he saw it as entertainment, Maybe you amuse him.

But either way you're with him now, Wandering around the festival in Hiyohara, Following him to try out whatever he chooses to do.

But somehow- Things develop.

As you're wandering around, Following him along- You trip.

Your foot gets caught on a rock, Your eyes barely being able to widen before you faceplant dead into a puddle caused by last nights rain.

Your clothing is ruined, Your face is covered in muck. You're not injured but you push yourself up on bruised elbows. Douma flicks his fan across his face, Concealing

He expects you to feel ashamed- To break down in embarrassment- You were with him after all, All his cultists would never-

But you don't.

You don't break down or seem ashamed to have embarrassed yourself in front of him, No- Instead you laugh. You begin to giggle, Smiling as you wipe the mud off your face and swipe it off your hair- Saying how clumsy you were for tripping.

Your laugh.

It was music to him.

To see that unaltered- Raw- Human emotion displayed on your face was enrapturing to him and he had no idea why. The way your eyes lit up, The way your grin stretched from ear to ear in a shameless mirth before him.

For some reason- Douma felt his heart begin to thump in his chest.

As soon as you get up you notice how he has gone rigid, Completely solid as if he was frozen in time. You can see how his expression just looks absolutely shocked, His usually pale- Stark white skin beginning to redden around the face.

You don't understand what was happening.

Douma on the other hand was going through what was almost a religious experience. Suddenly he notices the world around him, His heart pounding, His eyes widening. He can feel sensations flooding through his chest- His cheeks and his heart.

He feels alive.

And it all came from.. You?

Douma in the following days/weeks definetly changes his behaviour. For the first time in his centuries old life he feels love- He feels joy- Excitement even! He can barely believe it, Almost in denial at first.

At it all occurs when he's around you. You.

Douma doesn't question stuff like this, Stuff he see's as silly. But what he also sees is you, How wonderful you are- How much you bring out this addictive emotion inside of him. He doesn't care how you did it- Not in the slightest.

Douma definetly begins to get much more favourable towards you, Even more so than before. Every night you will play your music for him and he will listen, All the while his eyes trail across your face, Your body. All admiring with a gleam in his eyes.

Expect him to make much more appearances where you are. His smile on his face as he makes his way towards you, Ignoring the shocked looks of the other cultists who can't believe that His Grace has shown up amongst them.

Douma definetly gets more touchy, More friendly with you. A hand on your shoulder? An arm around your waist? If he's feeling ballsy then maybe a small kiss on the corner of your lips as he leans down towards your ear to tell you what music he wants you to play for him later.

You don't question the intimacy- No, You're apart of his harem, That's to be expected but..

Think of this all as an experimentation stage for Douma. What he's doing, His intimacy and his extra time with you is to make sure that what he's feeling comes from you and you alone- Not some other factor changing that.

And once he gets his results?

Yeah. No. He's hooked.

I'd say up until this point everything is relatively normal with him, Well- As normal as you can get with Douma but I digress. You go about your daily life, Play music for him each night while Douma continues to feast on his cultists as ceremonial practice all the while his mind lingers to you.

But that doesn't last for very long.

As Douma takes one of his daily walks through the halls of the convent- A habit he picked up out of boredom during the day- He pauses.

Douma was stopped beside a corner, Looking out through an open door to see two figures standing within the sun-soaked gardens. He can't really see who it is at first, Considering that both backs were turned but..

One of them- He could tell it was you.

You were giggling, Admiring the prospering plant life around you as you stood next to some unknown figure. You were almost brushing shoulders with him, A smile on your face as you looked at him, Your shamisen held delicately in your hands.

In any other scenario, Douma wouldn't care about what was going on- He wouldn't even bat an eye but-

You were too close to him, Yes, Douma thought. You smiled at him so brightly that it felt like the sun was sizzling at Douma's skin. You seemed happy to be there with.. With that man. You had your shamisen, Did you play it for him..?

Oh no.

Oh no no.

Douma felt his eye twitch. Felt his innards begin to turn and his blood run even colder than it ever did.

What was this?

This feeling in his stomach that made the rest of him feel as frozen as ice.

Why were you with him?

Who was he?

Shouldn't you be back inside out of the sun, Where he was? Away from whatever human man was talking to you so freely right now.

He could just rip his guts out right now, Would you like that? He could just tear and tear away at his flesh for you if you wanted, Would that get you away from that man and back to him?

Douma didn't like this new feeling in his veins. He grasped at his stomach, His eyes widening as he felt his body react to this disgusting sensation. He didn't like this feeling. He didn't like it one bit.

Douma's smile is near contorted on his face as he watches the two of you walk away amongst the gardens. He near keels over, Holding on the corner for support.

He didn't like this feeling.

He didn't like how you talked to that man so freely.

...

That man.

It's a day like any other, At least that's how it starts out. You wake up in your room as usual, Get dressed, Do your hair and makeup before walking out into the hallways to head to breakfast.

As apart of Douma's harem, You're allowed to take partners other than him, Douma isn't usually jealous so the rest of his harem tend to have partners of their own.

You too, Have followed in their footsteps as you met another cult member that you hit it off with. He seemed to enjoy your music, Laugh at your jokes and vice versa. He was a nice guy, Someone you got along with well.

And it was obvious you both shared looks between each other.

So as you enter the breakfast hall it comes as a shock to hear that he had ran away during the night. It's heresy to the convent to forsake your religion by running away, You had just seen him yesterday and he was plenty faithful then so-

Why had he ran?

You ask Douma about this but he just waves you off with a saddened look across his face, Saying that some people just aren't able to be enlightened, That they stray from the path.

And you believe him. Of course you do.

He's your leader after all.

Soon after that things change.

Douma has requested that you now sleep with him in his quarters, A move that has shocked both you and the rest of the faithful. The rest of the harem has never gotten the privileges of sleeping in the same bed with him, Even after 'session's per se.

Douma requests your presence much more often, Always disguising it as wanting to hear you play your shamisen but it always ends up with a cup of sake and a conversation.

His physical touch becomes much more intimate now, Much more public. A kiss on the lips is common, His hands squeezing your cheeks like you're the cutest thing even more so.

He views other humans as cattle, But not you- No.

It's a shock to find out that one day during a sermon, Douma declares that the gods have sent him a wife. An eternal lover. It's even more shocking when his eyes lock on yours, Telling everyone that it is you who the gods have declared to be his partner.

You're absolutely shocked, But also terrified.

You can't be sent by the gods. You just.. Couldn't.

You're showered in gifts by the cult, Praised and honoured as the God's new gift to them but all you can think of is how.. Fake this all seems. The way Douma looked at you during his declaration, Something about it seemed so.. Wrong.

Something wasn't right.

Douma himself is thrilled to have this work out for him. Declaring that you were chosen by the God's worked well- Made sure that you wouldn't try to go for anyone else as well.. You're no longer apart of his harem, You're promised to him and him alone.

Having other romantic interests is out of the question now.

If you do show signs, Any at all, Of being interested in another man..

You'll be told they've ran away during the night- Or got chosen for the next Ascension.

That reasoning doesn't seem to make sense anymore.

Expect Douma to be with you at all times now, Your ability to go wherever you pleased in the convent revoked in favour of staying in his quarters with him. If you want to go out you must be with him.

He lives through your emotions. If you're sad, He's sad. If you're happy, He's happy. He feeds off of your feelings like a parasite, You're something he can invest what rotten soul he has into.

Which is why he tries to make you as happy as possible.

You want food? Delivered with the finest of cutlery. You want expensive clothes? Your closet is filled to the brim the next day. You want jewellery? Made with the largest of gems and polished until it hurts the eye.

Even if you're humble and don't want the richest of things- You'll get it anyways. Douma can't have his wife- A woman declared to be sent from their god walking around in 'rags' now can he?

When sleeping in his bed expect to be the small spoon. When you are, Douma holds you just a bit too close to him, His nose buried in your hair. Even when you're fast asleep he's wide awake.

He leaves after a while to do as he usually does, But he always spends an unordinary amount of time just laying with you.

You bathe with him now in his private bathhouse. Douma love to take baths in sake so you'll be doing the same with him, Often times on his lap. It's up to your imagination what happens afterwards.

He also enjoys dancing so he'd expect you to try learn some. Even though it's not your forte (That belonging to music-) You try your best to keep up with him, Nervously now.

He doesn't let you talk to nobody anymore, No one that's not the monks or a very trusted group of people that Douma approves of.

You're now to be worshipped along with him as a gift from the gods, Offerings given to both you and Douma now.

Douma I think may actually try to drink some of your blood- Perhaps collecting it while you slept or bringing it up as a sort of 'ritual' for lovers that you've "just not heard of."

Once he does get a hold of your blood, Expect him to savour it like ambrosia, The taste better than marechi as he eagerly sips away at it.

He'd turn you into a demon at some point, However not now as he still values your human qualities. Douma still wishes to keep you like this until the day comes where he decides to immortalise you as a demon.

If you try to bring up your doubts to Douma about being sent from the gods, Douma will try to convince you that you were- Your beauty- Your skills- All of this was made for him.

It's an honour to be with him.

You agree, Right?

Douma, Despite his lack of emotions can read you like a book. He can tell that you're growing suspicious, That you've got a gut feeling that something was wrong. He tries to tell you that it's just jitters..

If you ever find out about Douma's demonic nature..

Screaming, Crying, Throwing up. You're horrified, Absolutely petrified that you've been worshipping a demon your entire life without even knowing about it. You gave gifts to him, You praised him, You worshipped him-

The amount of people he must've eaten- The amount of lives he must've taken-!

Trying to run away would be insanely- And I mean insanely difficult. The convent is already guarded to keep people in and with you there is extra supervision not just from the monks but Douma himself too.

The only way I ever see you actually escaping would be playing the long game and doing it during the daytime, But I'm talking about years here- Douma can read you, If he suspects you of not being all that devoted to him then he'll know.

If you actually do succeed in escaping then Douma would go insane. And I mean it. He'd slaughter members of his cult in a rage, His talons tearing through their skin like paper as he rampages.

This emotion is new to him after all- Anger, Desperation. All of this is so incredibly potent because of it, No one to keep him in check since you escaped.

If you thought him discovering Jealousy was bad..

Douma would get a hold of himself after a while however, No- Douma is an intelligent demon. He's conniving and collected, He just lost it for a little bit.. Just a bit. Don't worry, He's back to normal.. He's collected himself.

Douma will never stop looking for you. Members of his cult may even be dispatched to look for you while he does so at night-time. Your scent is memorised in his head, He'll follow whatever trail he can get- He'll track you down one way or another.

He presents himself as less-than-good at tracking- However that all changes when it comes to you.

If he finds you, You'll be dragged back kicking and screaming all the while Douma has that same smile on his face. He's passive aggressive for sure, Making sure you hurt yourself in your struggle all the while demeaning you.

If you were hiding out in any town or village then Douma will massacre everyone and anyone in your vicinity. He'll drag their corpses back with him too, Food for later- Food for your transformation.

You'll become a demon, Douma is not loosing you again. He'll cut open his arm and hold you down, Forcing you to drink his blood- Knowing that Muzan will accept this new demon as the last two turned out to be promising.

He'll make you eat the bodies of the people you use to love- Your friends, Your family. All the while telling you that this is what happens when you try to disobey him in such a happy tune.

Despite how fake he seems, He really is genuine when he tells you how much he loves you- How overjoyed he is to have you back.

All the while wiping the blood off your lips with his thumb.

Leaning in to kiss you surrounded by the flesh of dozens.

[skyfallscotland]

We really need to talk about this obsession with toxic positivity in fandom.

There are corners of the internet (tumblr, reddit, in some respects AO3) that were made for discussion and exploration.

Part of being in fandom is, and has always been, discussing canon through a critical lens. This should be expected, not lambasted as if the creators themselves are going to read every post and be so viscerally offended they skip their dinner for the night.

If you’re required to only “be positive” about something, the community devolves into an echo chamber and that's boring. Going against the grain, believing something different, never used to make you a 'hater'. Where did we go so wrong that it’s perceived as such now?

Everyone has a valid viewpoint to add to any discussion, however my viewpoint is only welcomed if it’s in agreement with the majority of people—which it generally will never be given I am, in fact, a minority and therefore do not view the text through the same lens as most people. My lived experience means I don’t think like most of you, and I'm frustrated that I’m essentially told to sit in a corner and be quiet because of it. Why are you even posting under a discussion flair if any opinion different to yours is met with vitriol? You clearly don't want discussion.

Here’s the thing—you don’t love this book more than me just because you don't have any critiques. Your opinion is not more valid than mine (or anyone else's) because you lack the ability or the inclination to imagine, to explore, to question.

You (we, if I may) can love something and still believe it can be improved upon. Generally, if you love something, that is what you want—you want it to be the best it can be.

And even if you don't think the same way I do, here's the thing—ultimately, how the hell does it affect you if I don’t agree with an aspect of the text or your interpretation of it? My criticism of the way certain books are lauded for bare bones disability rep or their inclusivity when they have *checks notes* a character of ambiguous skin tone, should have no bearing on your enjoyment of the book. My opinion that a character has ambiguous morals should have no bearing on your enjoyment of the character.

You wanna know what I think it is? (You don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway)—people seek to find themselves in stories. We want to feel seen, that’s normal. But now, especially in these fandoms, people are getting the lines blurred. They’re getting their identities completely entangled with these books.

It’s ok to love something, but to become so entrenched in it that you can’t separate the book from your own sense of self? That's dangerous.

These unfortunate people need you to say only ultra-positive things about it because anything else is perceived as an attack on them and who they are—because they think they are the things they enjoy. Positive opinions on the text and its characters, in line with their own, are self-validation for them.

Enjoying something doesn’t mean it has to be a part of your identity. Things can be beloved and formative without affecting your self-esteem and sense of worth.

And I think, for me at least, it all trickles down to this: at the end of the day, if I disagree with something, I attempt to counter the opinion, that's how my brain rolls—people who disagree with 'being negative' (and I say that with the utmost derision, because usually it’s not negativity at all) don't have an argument that you're wrong, they just don't think you should talk about it. They go straight to attacks and vitriol, and telling you to get out.

You can still like something and admit it’s flawed.

There are a great many things I love about my fandoms, I just don't always mention them because it's been covered already 😉 Why bring up something ten other people already have day in, day out?

In closing, I'll leave you with this:

Even when fandom is being critical, it ultimately comes from a place of optimism and devotion, one that centers on the hope that a beloved property might stop fucking everything up and start being good again, x

Oh, and no, I won't "quit reading fantasy" just because I want to see a protagonist with my physical limitations. That's ableist as fuck. Have the day you deserve!

[remedyturtles]

10 with Leo and Raph would be so interesting. (Thought I can't really picture either of them saying somthing that mean to eachother, so maybe mystics are involved?)

I hope you have a nice day!

great minds think alike y'all. thanks @bluemoonsymphonies and anon for the prompt! i hope u both enjoy....

wordcount 1k, pre-movie

10. "Please... what am I doing wrong?" "What aren't you doing wrong?!"

Leo’s throat hurt. 

Just add it to the list of bullshit that Raph was doing to him. Because there was absolutely no reason that Raph had to come and interrupt him while he was snoozing on the bean bag. Like, this lecture could’ve totally waited until later. Maybe after Leo had gotten some fucking sleep. 

“You’re not taking this seriously!” Raph said.

“You could not be more of a broken record if you tried, Rapha.” Leo hadn’t gotten up from the bean bag and suffocated a yawn into his fist. He was tired of the grating arguments and he was tired, just bone tired of the fighting for no reason. And tired in general. Because his head was so loud and when he laid down to sleep there was just… screaming there too. 

“That’s because you’re not listening to me.” Raph poked him right between the eyes. “I gotta drill it in that empty head somehow.”

Leo twitched. That was a bit harsh, especially since it wasn’t a gentle poke. He was feeling a little ganged up on and crawled out of the bean bag to stand his ground, crossing his arms. “Yeesh, tell me how you really feel.” 

“I think you’re lazy and unmotivated.” Raph scoffed. “We’ve got so much we could be doing and you’re sleeping in the middle of the day.”

Leo… paused. Stared at his brother with a bit of hurt shock. He was really coming at him, no holds barred. He held up his hands in surrender and said, “And wow, I think you’re a huge jerk. What the hell, dude? For your information, I barely slept last night, so get off me.”

Something flickered in Raph’s eyes. But it didn’t stay. He scoffed again, louder and more derogatory, raising up his lip to sneer with his snaggletooth. “You’re not even trying.”

“Wow.” Leo repeated. Hands still raised, skin goosebumping, a chill from the undisguised scorn. This was different from the usual annoyed arguing. This was … mean. “Okay. Please, let's hear it. What am I doing wrong, then?”

“What aren't you doing wrong?” Raph spat back, chest heaving. Genuine anger sung hot and heavy. 

Leo stared. This sounded a lot like the inside of his own head. Which didn't make sense, because that wasn't Raph. He pushed and he pushed but he was never like this. Not his Raph. Not his lovable big lug of a brother who truly only wanted the best for all of them. 

“Nothing to say?” Raph tilted his head to the side. His eyes were rather blank, now that Leo was making painful eye contact with him. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Leo prompted.

Raph blinked rapidly, surprised, then shook his head. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who's a problem here."

"Yeah, something is definitely wrong." Leo stepped forward, cataloguing other symptoms as he went. "You give me a hard time, you piss me off, and you nag me. But you're never, ever mean. So what gives?"

Raph was sweating. Not any of his usual sweat, not a scent Leo could pinpoint with scary accuracy. Something unheard of. When Leo got closer, he could see the pin-pricked pupil and too-quick breathing. He practically growled at Leo as he got close. 

"Relax." Leo smiled, charming, getting another step closer to the lion's den. Flickering his gaze over Raph to try and find some kind of clue. "I get you, I know you want me to try, etc etc. But you wouldn't just brush past me telling you I hadn't slept, because you know I hate being honest about that. You'd be beating my ass with a pillow to go to bed then and try again in the morning. So either you've been possessed by a demon or cursed. Which is it?"

"I'm not –" Raph lurched forward.

But Leo had already spotted it. He pinched the little bug between his thumb and forefinger and pulled – a parasitic scarab bit down into the skin of his neck. The moment it left Raph's body, the little pincers wiggled agitatedly in the air, and Leo surveyed the bug with a distasteful eye. 

Raph inhaled sharply, hand flying to his neck, and took two staggering steps backwards. He breathed, "What the fuck."

Leo waved the evil little beetle at him. "Did you piss off someone? Maybe walk through a magical rainforest?"

"I – I – " Raph's face morphs into one of pure horror. "I'm so sorry."

"Aw, buddy." Leo opened a portal and flicked the beetle through it, sending the fucker to the moon. Then he waved it away and opened his hands in offer. "It's okay. I know you better than that." 

Raph scooped him up in a hug so tight it took his breath away. He squeezed and squeezed and Leo bore it with the patience of someone who'd been a teddy bear for this man many a time. 

"It's okay." Leo mumbled to him. 

"Not really." Raph replied, miserable.

"You didn't mean it." Leo shrugged.

The arms around him tightened. Raph shuddered a breath.

"Okay, maybe you meant it a little bit." Leo amended, because it wasn't like this conversation was new. Just the vitriol at which he spat it. "But bud, I know you're not coming at me to hurt me. I'd never think that. You're literally doing this because you want me to be my best. I'm not stupid. I'm just really, really good at acting like it."

Raph pulled back enough to show his red eyes. "Then why won't you work with me here?"

Leo couldn't say, because I'm scared my best isn't good enough. Instead he pat his big brother's arm and said, "Let's get you checked out and make sure that beetle didn't cause any lasting effects, hey?"

"Leo–" Raph growled.

Too late. Leo eeled out of his grip and danced away, waving over his shoulder. "Come on, chop chop, I don't have all day you know."

Raph… sighed. And followed, shoulders hanging.