#worse: he caressed the phone

[ficandkaboodle]

The old man I interact with in my daydreams:

….

The old men I interact with in reality:

“I went to go get my wife’s phone looked at and the guy, he says to me, ‘You gotta touch the phone like it’s a woman’! HAAAAAAA!!”

[little-writers-posts]

Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)

Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.

Word Count: 1.957

“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.

“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.

“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.

“Just�� Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.

It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.

As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.

Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.

It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.

“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.

“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.

“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”

“I would like that,” he smiled.

He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.

Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.

“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.

“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.

We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.

Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.

Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.

“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.

“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.

At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.

“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.

I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.

“Prep me up?” I mumbled.

Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.

“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.

“Francis…” I whimpered.

He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.

I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.

I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.

When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.

I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.

When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.

The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.

“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.

I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.

The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.

“I’m cuming,” I begged.

“Wait for me,” Francis urged.

He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.

“Francis, please” I begged again.

“Almost there” he grunted.

I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.

I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.

“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.

I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.

At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.

Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.

“I love you” he whispered between kisses.

“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.

He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.

“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.

“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”

“Just some water, please”.

I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.

The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.

Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.

[byuntrash101]

the good friend

f!reader x san x mingi ft ateez smut | mdni 3.4k san has known about mingi’s crush on his girlfriend for a while now. he also happens to be a very good and caring friend who values their friendship very much. and san would do just about anything to help a friend nsfw tags under the cut

a lil plot, idol!au, established relationship, bf san, mingi is the simp master, also rengoku hair mingi because i miss him, alcohol consumption (but consent is unquestionable), safe word mentionned but not used, pet names, (baby, princess, sannie...), unprotected sex (recommanded by 0/10 dentists), wall sex, semi public sex (full dorm hallway sex), exhbitionism/voyeurism, dirty talk, slight breath play (gentle), masturbation (f & m), controlled orgasm (f)

a/n: OMGGGG THIS ONE IS JUST SDMLKSQDMMSQLKKFF. i kinda like how turned out because im feral and shameless when it comes to these men. if you like it PLEASE TELL ME i might make a part 2 👀

@shinestarhwaa for you boo <3

sequel | ateez masterlist | navigation

It’s funny how Mingi is still stuck in this same situation years later, he thought while staring at you from across the kitchen table. When he first saw you 5 years ago, your back leaned against the company building, eyes glued to your phone, he thought of how pretty you were but he was late for practice again and he knew he was going to be scolded by Hongjoong so he just hurried himself in.

This encounter should have been left at that, he would have forgotten about you the next day and he would be at peace right now. 

But no.

You were still waiting there when he got out much much later at night, sweaty, tired and starving. He took a look at you again but this time you lifted your face from the screen of your phone and your eyes met. He didn’t know why he was flustered and cursed himself silently when he whipped his head to the side, quickly breaking eye contact. But despite the uninviting body language you took the first step in his direction. It took everything he had in him not to stumble back and stand his ground in the most natural way he could muster given his current state.

‘Hmm… Excuse me?” you started hesitantly, “Hmm… I’m looking for…” Mingi was all ears and eyes for you, focussing on your every move and word. In that split instant he noticed the color of your eyes, the soft texture of your hair and the mesmerizing way your lips moved to form words, that made sentences which he was supposed to listen to and he was arguably doing a poor job. But right when he was losing focus you were interrupted.

“Y/N!!” San’s voice resonated from the entryway. You whipped your head in the direction of the voice and turned away from Mingi with the most radiant and heavenly smile he had ever seen. 

“Nevermind. Thank you” you said quickly before running to San’s side. 

Mingi stood there for a second completely stunned as he watched the pair of you walking away, San’s hand reaching for yours right before you disappeared at the intersection. 

The next day San made him promise not to tell anyone he saw you waiting for him. He didn’t tell him exactly you were his girl but Mingi was smart enough to figure that out on his own.

And that should have been the end of the story. You should have remained San’s secret girlfriend and Mingi would have forgotten about you and your perfect smile in a week or two…

But once again… no. It did not go that way.

Over the years it got worse. You both grew, you weren’t 18 anymore. You grew into a beautiful, stunning woman and Mingi grew into a man. And you even became friends. With the years you got to meet the rest of Ateez. You became friends with all of them but you were closest to Mingi without a doubt, much to his disarray.

That’s exactly how he came to stare at you from across the kitchen table as you were leaning your head on San’s broad shoulder, barely holding your head up as you had one too many bottles of grapefruit soju. San was gently caressing your flushed cheek.

Everybody was laughing, drinking and enjoying themselves, but Mingi who was also slightly drunk just couldn’t stop staring at you, stealing glances at you through his eyelashes. To the others he looked like he was zoning out like he usually does after a drink or two but in fact he was focussing on you. Precisely on your neck and the sleeve of your top slowly sliding off your shoulder. The large and rounded neckline of your loose oversized top was barely hanging to the edge of your shoulder at this point and if you moved even in the slightest it would completely expose your shoulder. To everyone present that wasn’t a big deal. Nobody had even noticed apart from Mingi. And when you lift your head up again to bark at Wooyoung that was making fun of you for being a lightweight it happened.

The tired sleeve gave in. Mingi had a front row seat on your delicate collar bone and the smooth skin of your shoulder lightly shiny. If only that was it he could have handled it but the large neck line was also hanging very low on your chest so low that his eyes were rapidly forgetting about your shoulder to solely focus on your chest. His eyes scanned the shadow of your cleavage, the ceiling light was casting on you, he imagined how your breasts would feel in his large palms, how soft your skin would be and how your nipples would taste on his tongue.

He thought so much that he started pitching a tent in his large cargo pants. The tent of shame like he liked to call it. The tent he tried to fight off so many times because San was one of his best friends… And you were… his.

That thought broke his own heart.

“Well! I’m swamped, guys. I’m going to bed” he declared getting up, both fists stuffed in his large pockets concealing the “shame”.

The others grumbled to make him stay. They were having a nice time but honestly he just wanted to catch a break from his own heart and hop into the shower.

San knew exactly why he wanted to leave. He had known for a while about Mingi’s feelings for you. In reality everyone knew except for two people. One was Mingi who thought he was so good at concealing himself when in reality he was staring at you like a puppy all day and the other one was yourself. You just never noticed because to you Mingi was a friend, an attractive friend, granted! But a friend nonetheless. You didn’t think further than that. To you the idea of him having feelings for you was so far-fetched that the thought never entered the realm of possibilities.

Once Mingi had decided to go, the members followed one by one, Hongjoong was the second one. At the end only Wooyoung and Yeosang were playing a drinking game while you and San crashed on the couch. 

San was absentmindedly playing with your hair when he caught your hand dangerously slipping below his belt. He gripped your wrist firmly, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

“Y/n~~” he quietly singsang. He knew that was going to happen. Alcohol had only one single effect on you. It made you horny. Without fail, whenever you all gathered like this and drank, it made you feral. And today San felt mischievous.

***

Mingi exhaled a big sigh before stepping in the shower, the hot water running on his large back helped him take his mind off the chatter and laughter erupting from the living room at the end of the hall for a while he just glided the soap across his body. The hot air made him dizzy. He felt the warm water on his face letting the stream run down his hair. As he closed his eyes, flashes of you came back to him. 

Your cute flushed face, eyelids half closed, your eyes made sparkly from the soju, this adorable dorky smile you wore all evening, the exposed patch of skin, the neckline of your top hanging so low on your chest. He wondered without even realizing about the way he would have loved to lay you down on that table right there. Peeling your clothes one by one, taking his sweet time admiring your body slowly giving away all its secrets. 

He felt himself becoming hard again. He kept his eyes shut as he guided the soapy foam along his half hard member. 

He dreamed about the melodic wet sounds you would make when he would slide inside you, about the way you would grip him so perfectly, about how your eyes would roll back and your lips would lazily hang open as you lost yourself to his cock, abandoning yourself to him, only him.

He gripped his length even tighter, rapidly dragging his fist up and down his shaft, turning his tip bright red from his arousal and the hot water.

He thought even harder about your hands muffling your high pitched moans shamefully as his powerful thrusts rocked your body under him.

Fuck he wants to see you like that, he wants to have you like that he thought as he drove himself crazy, on the verge of bursting. He felt himself twitch in his hand, precum and soap mixing perfectly making this sinful act easier than ever. 

“Fuck” he grunted considering to finally let himself go but at the last second he opted out of it. He suddenly let go of the aching organ, twitching and pulsing, hot and dripping red tip begging for release.

But Mingi just couldn’t keep doing that anymore. Just seeing you in the day act like your friend and fuck himself to the thought of you at night. He had to somehow snap out of this trance, break free from the spell you casted on him five years ago back in Gang-nam.

After five years he had to come to the realization that you were with San and you would never be with him.

So without thinking twice Mingi turned the water from scolding hot to icy. That had two purposes: one calming his raging boner and two taking his mind off the painful reality he had to accept. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and hissed in discomfort at the sudden temperature change. But it was efficient enough.

He quickly dried off and wrapped the wet towel around his waist. He crossed the living room to head out to the hall where San's room and his were. But when he entered the hall…

“Please”

Immediately he hid behind the corner of the L shaped hall out of pure instinct. That kind of sounded like… you?

“Please” you whimpered again. 

This time there was no doubt it was in fact your voice. 

“Can’t we do it in your room?” you asked, your voice interrupted by muffled moans.

“No I wanna take you right here” San responded, determined.

“But what if Mingi comes back from his shower?”

San smirked. That was exactly his intention but he just chuckled and brushed off the question. 

“Also if you really didn’t want to do it here. You’d use the safe word, right baby?” San’s smirk grew bigger as you stayed silent. “Wanna use the safe word baby?”

“No…” you admitted half heartedly.

“That’s what I thought” he said brushing his tip against you.

San wanted to be caught. He couldn't explain it properly but recently he started thinking about maybe offering Mingi some kind of relief. Because he’s had that huge crush on you for so long it must be really troublesome for him, right? So this little show for him was kind of a way to blow some steam off for him. Yeah! That’s right! San was doing that out of the goodness of his heart, out of friendship! Because he cared oh so dearly about his friend and not because the idea of having an audience flipped a switch in him. A flip he’s been fantasizing about for a while now.

“Spread your legs” San whispered. 

Mingi’s heart rattled against his ribs and rang in his ears. He held his chest as he didn’t even dare to breathe, not to mention move a single muscle.

“Babygirl” San started his lips pressed against the thin skin of your neck. “You’re already this wet for me”

His fingers brushed against your center, still clothed but already soaking wet.

“Were you touching yourself at the table again?” 

You nodded shyly. You just couldn’t help getting incredibly horny every time you had a drink.

“Yes” you admitted in a shameful whisper.

“What a naughty girl. Passing the blush as an effect of the alcohol when in fact you're touching yourself under the table despite your boyfriend’s friends gathered all around you.” you whined. “Maybe it’s even exactly why you couldn’t resist the urge huh baby?”

Mingi bit his lip, trying his hardest not to gasp. To think that you busied your hands into your folds while he was eyeing your exposed chest. And to think maybe, just maybe, you exposed yourself on purpose?

“Please… Sannie…” you begged again.

Mingi was going crazy. This whole time he was just leaning his bare back on the wall, dampened locks of hair, trailing water down his body. He couldn’t see anything he didn’t dare to move a muscle but fuck did he want to have a peek. Before he could even realize the raging boner was back on. Forcefully pulling up the towel he had tied around his hips.

“I love it when you beg baby” San whispered, lips pressed to your blazing skin.

Me too. 

Mingi thought so loud he was scared you would both hear him. One hand instinctively traveled to his engorged member, giving it a firm squeeze at the base while the other hand was pushing his flaming red and yellow hair back.

“Please… I can’t wait anymore” you said, granting your boyfriend’s wish.

“Please what, baby?” San teased again as he pushed your panties to the side. You hissed when you felt his tip brush against your bare pussy, digging your nails in his broad back.

“Cock!” you hurriedly replied, lust filling your mind. So eager you could barely form intelligible sentences “I want your cock” you demanded in a strangled whisper, hardly keeping your voice down.

Mingi had fought the idea of you against his own mind too many times today. He won at the dinner table and he won again in the shower but this battle… Knowing you there begging to be filled to the brim, exposed for anyone who might stumble across the sinful scene… He couldn’t fight that. He had to look. He had to see you.

So he dared. He dared to peek, just enough to have a look. Just one eye is all it took. And he saw…

He saw the both of you entangled into each other, both facing one another, your back pressed against the wall while San gripped your hips firmly with one hand and lifted one of your legs up with the other to grant himself access to your beautiful and soaked little pussy. He saw his friend’s smirk and eyebrow twitch as he gently pushed himself into your welcoming folds. But all this was only anecdotal. Because nothing, nothing! could come close to you. Mingi only had eyes -one eye in this case- for you.

He saw how your mouth went agape as you took him in, he saw how you arched your back and rested your head on the wall you were pressed up against. And he heard you trying your hardest not to make a noise and failing so miserably, much to his contentment. 

That sound, that fucking sound. He will never forget.

The raspy sigh you produced, audible bliss dripping from your lips as you refused to close your eyes, taking in the exalted face of your boyfriend.

San spotted from the corner of his eyes the flaming red strands of hair peeking from the angle of the hall. It made him smirk, his little scheme had worked. It made him even more determined to put on a good show for his friend, determined to drag those beautiful sounds out of you until you would beg him to stop. And you could have sworn you felt him grow even bigger inside you.

Without a second thought San settled a pace that was especially designed for you. Deep and slow. Just enough to keep you on edge. With every roll of his hips into yours you felt every single inch of his length deliciously scraping your clenching walls, gripping him desperately.

“Fuckkk” you cried out, biting down on your lower lip.

“You like that baby?” San asked you, the evil twinkle of lust dancing in his eyes.

“Yesss” you sighed, barely holding yourself up on the only leg that was supporting you. 

You gasped as he bottomed out again, this time staying there for a while. You instantly started to rock your hips into his, desperately clinging onto the friction.

“That’s right baby” San growled as his veiny hand left your side to tightly wrap around your narrow neck. “Fuck yourself on my cock”

And you were more than happy to oblige. You lost it at his words, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to coerce you.

Unholy wet squelching noises bounced back on the walls of the narrow hall all the way to Mingi ears. His hands violently pumping up and down his cock, thick slimy precum coating his tip and being dragged with each movement along his shaft. It was so hard not to make any noise but he pulled himself together just so he could keep looking at you.

“Sannie Please… Fuck me harder” the last ounce of bashfullness had evaporated out of your body as the carnal sin was clouding your judgement. “Fuck me senseless” your tone was demanding. You just couldn’t bear it anymore. You wanted to cum. You need to cum.

Mingi can't believe his ears or his eyes or any of his senses as a matter of fact… To hear you say these words with so much drive, so much desire. To see you plead with those sultry eyes… If only he was the one right there between your legs right now. If only he was the one pumping his hot and dripping cock into you until completion. If only he was the one feeling your cunt clench and pulse around him.

“Your wish is my command, Princess” San whispered before he caught your other leg and lifted you up, flipping both your legs onto his shoulders and folding you in two against the wall. And he slid himself right back in. Where was his rightful place. You gasped, this position allowed him to go even deeper and tears started to cloud your vision as his tip so precisely hit on your sensitive spot. Both of your hips perfectly angled to fit inside each other.

“Fuck yessss… j-just like that” you whispered through gritted teeth. “Please don’t stop Sannie”. Your voices shaken with each of San’s violent thrusts. “Fuck I love your cock” you sobbed as your eyes lost their focused and your mind slipped in thick foggy haze. And San chuckled, his eyes leaving yours for a split second to briefly look at the flamboyant orange tuft of hair peeking from the corner of the hall.

Fortunately Mingi was way to focus on you to notice San had spotted him.

Mingi was about to burst but he was determined to cum with you. Picturing your twitching cunt in place of his gripping fist.

You were a couple of thrusts away from coming undone and San knew it. He knew everything about your body. He knew every micro expression, every sound, every queue.

“You’re gonna cum baby?” he asked, short of breath.

“Yessss” you whined, trying hard not to cum on the spot.

“Cum now. Cum on my cock right now” he ordered.

That was what you needed. In a split second you let go of the knot you’ve been desperately hounding on to and completely lose your sanity in an earth shattering orgasm that washes over your body.

Quickly followed by Mingi. Uncontrollably twitching and delivering what felt like gallons of cum in the towel, completely soiling it. Maybe even ruining it forever. It was so good, he never came like this. So good that an ever so audible groan of bliss slipped past his lips and into the world. Instantly he bit his lip and stopped breathing but it was too late.

San also let himself go, a smirk dancing on his lips as he happened to catch the shameful groan. You were unaware of why but that amount of cum was unprecedented and you attributed it to the thrill of the fear of getting caught. But San knew it was simply the joy and fulfillment of being a good friend.

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

a/n: what a ride dskfmkfmdkmfl. you liked it? you want part 2? SPAM MY COMMENTS AND ASKS AND REBLOGS BECAUSE I LOVE READING YOUR REACTIONS MY POOKIES <333 (a threesome in part 2? 👀)

sequel | ateez masterlist | navigation

taglist: @staytiny816 @onysmamas

[waughymommy]

WM: Breastfeeding Kink & Diaper play

Disclaimer: all characters depicted in this story are consenting adults over the age of 18. If you are NOT 18 or older, Don't Read if UNDER 18

I startle awake from a throbbing pain in my breasts. Quietly groaning as I turn over onto my back not wanting to wake my sleeping little prince. My hand moves up to my big tits and oh god are they swollen. I’m not sure what’s been going on but for the past few days my breasts have been so tight and swollen and it’s just getting worse. I slowly begin to massage them in an attempt to ease the pain. “Oh fuck this isn’t helping at all” i whisper to myself. 

I pull my loose tank top away from my breasts and look at the swollen mounds. The only time I’ve ever seen breasts look like this were when my best friend breastfed her little in front of me… wait. It can’t be can it? There’s no way I haven’t even been taking the special pills she had to take to induce lactation! 

I open my phone to Google and type in “what can cause you to lactate?” I click the first site that pops up. “There are many things that can induce lactation such as Yada yada yada medications such a birth control… FUCK.” I whisper yell. I did not just accidentally induce lactation with the new birth control I’m on. Oh god we haven’t even had this discussion yet I’m not sure it’s even something he’d be into. But my breasts hurt so bad I need some relief. 

I get up from bed as quietly as I can and walk into the adjoining bathroom. I flicker the lights on and keep the door open just the slightest bit incase my little prince needs me. I look in the mirror and slowly pull my tank top down. My tits spring out all heavy and full. “Fuck” I hiss quietly as I press down in the swollen flesh.

I slide my finger down to my nipple and begin to stimulate it. A milky liquid starts to drip out and I almost can’t believe it. I moan as my finger squeezes some more out. Oh fuck that feels good. 

A quiet voice interrupts my ministrations “Mommy?” I look over to my left side and my little prince is at the bathroom door just in his princess t shirt and full diaper staring at my dripping nipples in wide eyed wonder. Fuck he looks so beautiful with his bed head and sleepy eyes. He rubs at his eyes and hold the door frame. 

“Mommy what’s that?” He points to the liquid still dripping from my hard nipple. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about baby boy just turn your little tush around and go back to bed. I’ll be right there.” I say as I walk toward him and turn him around with my hands on his shoulders walking him back to the bed. He throws his head back and whines lowly, “but mommy I’m thirsty das why I woke up!” He says as I set him down back in bed. 

He looks up at me and his eyes move back to my nipples and his lips part and drool seeps out. “Okay baby you just wait right here and mommy will get you a drink of water.” I move toward the door but he grabs my wrist and with those doe eyes of his staring up at me and says “But I wan mommy’s milkies!” He whines again. His tonight peaks out and he licks his lips. “I’m not sure honey we havent really spoken about this.” I say as I softly caress the side of his face. He leans his head into my hand and pouts. 

“Please mommy please I just wanna try and see what it’s like. If you don’t like it or If I don’t like it we always have our safe word!” He trues to reason with me. And he’s not wrong so what could be the harm? I’ve secretly wanted this so badly for the longest time. I sigh and smile at him and nod. 

“Okay sweetheart you won, let mommy get comfy in bed first.” He claps his hands in excitement and slaps a sloppy wet kiss on my lips. I laugh as I crawl into bed and settle against my pillows. I pat my lap for him, “come here sweetie and lay side ways in mommy’s lap. Put you head right there in mommy’s elbow.” I maneuver him a little till he’s sitting just right, I cover him in the blankets and turn the low lamp on. A soft glow covers the room as he looks up at me with his lips slightly parted. I can tell he’s just as excited as I am. My sweet little boy. 

“Alright baby boy open those pretty lips for mommy.” I hold my boob up and my nipple leaks as I pull it and drop it in his waiting mouth. His lips close around my nipple immediately and he begins to softly suck. It takes him a few moments to really get the hang on how to latch on but soon his tongue is working in overdrive and hes suckling away like his life depends on it. I a gasp at the strength of his suckling and softly run my hands through his brown hair. “Sweetheart mommy isn’t going anywhere you can drink slowly, I promise I’m not going anywhere.” He closes his eyes and the suckling gets softer as soon as he realizes I’m not gonna snatch my nipple away from him. I moan quietly as I watch him drink. 

He’s such a sweet little boy suckling on his mommy’s nipples. I slide my hand down to his diaper and rub at his diapee covered cock. It’s so hard. I won’t lie my panties have absolutely socked through at this point. The feeling of his tongue lapping at the milk from my tits is just so erotic. He moans as my hand continues it’s rubbing. 

His hand reaches for my other leaking breast and he begins to fondle the nipple. Pulling and clutching at it, the milk dribbles done his fingers soaking them. I can’t help but moan out at the feeling. “Oh sweet boy that feels so good. You’re such a good boy just keep playing with mommy’s nipples like that.” I say a little breathless. 

I slip my hand into his diaper and just as my hand reaches the tip of his little cock he begins to piss right into my palm. I laugh a little and look at him a she pauses his suckling. His cheeks flame red, “I’m sorry mommy I couldn’t hold it.” He’s so fucking cute. 

“It’s okay baby you can go pee when you need to you know that. It’s why you have a diaper on to be able to lose control over your bowels and bladder whenever you need.” His stream continues as it hits my hand and I press down on the slit it’s pouring out of feeling the force of it. His piss is so warm on my hand as it fills his already soaked diaper. 

He smiles and nuzzles my breast and begins to suckle again as he pisses in my hand. He’s so fucking sexy sometimes I can’t believe he’s all mine. 

My sweet little boy.🍼😍💦🥰

[freedomfireflies]

Whiplash*

Summary: The second part to Knockout*

The one where Harry does something dangerous in the shadows, and he'll do anything to keep you out of it.

Word Count: 9.4k (again...so sorry)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, slight blood kink, slight pain kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

There’s no protocol for what to do when a handsome stranger you hardly know (but occasionally fool around with), stops showing up at your diner. 

You stare at his booth for far longer than you should. Willing him to appear. To walk through the door and make things right. Ease this ache in your chest.

You have no way to contact him. You don’t know his last name, or his phone number, or his address. You don’t even know his license plate number. He’s a ghost to you. More than a stranger but less than a friend.

You give him a few more minutes to appear. Maybe there was traffic. Or maybe he forgot you were working tonight.

But soon, a few minutes turns into an hour, and booth 505 remains empty.

So, you put the idea of him to bed. Carrying on with your shift while wearing your heavy heart on your sleeve. Perhaps he’s gotten bored with you. Or perhaps he’s found other ways to occupy his nights.

You almost think you’d prefer this alternative to the other. The one where he’s not here because he’s not…here. That wherever he goes and whatever he does has finally caught up to him.

It makes your stomach wrench to imagine, and you forcibly shove the thought free before returning your attention to your newest pie.

Peach. Another one of Harry’s favorites.

3 a.m. has never felt so liberating. Bringing you the perfect escape as you clock out and rush through the doors for the parking lot. Eager to rid yourself of this wretched night and head back to your apartment to worry about your stranger in peace.

You step out into the cold morning air and pull your jacket a bit tighter around your frame. Exhaling a shaky breath that you can see dance across the dimly lit space.

There are only two other cars over by the right side of the building, and much to your continued dismay, you notice that Harry’s still isn’t one of them. 

So, with a sinking stomach, you reach into your pocket for your apartment keys, and begin walking for the subway. Yet right as round the corner of the diner, you notice something move within the shadows just beside you.

With a jump, you gasp, and spin around on your heel with your keys raised and aimed at the ready.

The figure that emerges sends your heart straight into your throat.

“Harry?” You drop your arm and move closer for a better look. “What…what…?”

The battered and bruised man offers you a tired smile that hardly reaches his lips. “Hi, Cherry.”

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. There’s a nasty slash going down his left eyebrow, a dark bruise forming along his jaw, and blood dripping down his arm from beneath his sleeve onto the pavement below.

You search for the right words – for any words at all – but before you can, he’s stumbling forward. Just barely able to catch himself before he collapses onto the ground.

With another gasp, you surge forward, quickly taking hold of his shoulders in order to keep him upright. “Harry—”

“M’okay,” he murmurs, and you can hardly hear him. As if he barely has the strength to speak. “I’m fine. I promise—”

“Harry,” you repeat for a third time, almost incredulously. “You…this is not fine. You’re…what happened?”

Even before he shakes his head, you know he won’t truly answer. “Nothing. S’just a little worse this time, but I’m okay. Really.”

You feel sick. Sick that he’s so hurt, sick that you can’t help him, and sick because you don’t understand who does this to him. “Okay, we…we need to get you to a hospital, we need to get you some help—”

“No.” His head shakes again, a bit more insistently. “No, I can’t go to a hospital. I just…I had to see you.”

You feel your throat constrict. “What?”

His hand lifts, palm finding your jaw until he can softly caress your cheek. And you feel a streak of blood smear across your skin from where his thumb brushes at your chin. 

“I had to see you,” he repeats softly. “Had to make sure you were all right. M’so sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”

You want to bury yourself in his arms. Want to kiss him, and hold him, and fix him. Make everything better again.

“It’s okay,” you nearly whimper. Pushing yourself into his touch. “I’m just really worried about you.”

The smirk grows. “I’m all right. I’ll go home, take some pain pills, and be right as rain by tomorrow. Really.”

 You’re hardly convinced. “Harry—"

“I’m all right,” he insists, dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to worry about me, Cher. S’not the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. I’ll be okay. I just wanted to see you.”

And you don’t believe him. You don’t even think he believes him. But he smiles at you as though he wants to. As though he wants to offer you any sort of consolation for his pain. To make this better…for you.

You allow him to hold you a moment longer before you pull back and declare, “I’ll help.”

His brows pinch together. “What?”

“I’ll help. I’ll go with you. Make sure you’re okay, and…and help you clean up.”

His expression softens, but he sighs heavily. “Baby, I can’t…I can’t ask you to do that—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“I know, s’just…” He holds your cheeks in both hands now. Keeping you in his sights. “I made a rule with myself. A promise that I wouldn’t drag you down with me. That I’d make sure you were okay, and that you’d never hurt because of me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens, but you merely straighten up. “How could this hurt me? I just want to help.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he breathes. “But letting you come with me means breaking my rule. And I can’t do that. I won’t.”

You wonder what he means. You wonder if you really want to know.

“Then you come with me,” you decide. “You can come back to my apartment, and I can make sure you’re all right.”

Another heavy exhale, but you can tell he’s touched. “Cherry—”

“I mean it. You’re not…Harry, I’m really worried about you. You can hardly stand and you’re bleeding from more places than one. You could have really hurt yourself and you shouldn’t be alone. I won’t let you be alone right now.”

He considers this. “Cherry, I’m trying to protect you—”

“And I’m trying to protect you, too,” you argue firmly, but with a persuasive grin. “Please let me.”

There’s a long lull of silence, those gentle green eyes studying you closely. He looks so very tired and wrought with grief. Yet when he sees you…his entire world seems to change. Lighting up about as bright as the moon.

“Okay,” he finally agrees. “Okay, we’ll go. I trust you.”

I trust you. Three little words that have never sounded so good and you can’t help but push up onto your toes to kiss him as gingerly as you can.

“Okay, where’s your car?” you ask, letting go in order to look around. “My apartment isn't too far, so I can drive until we—”

“No.”

“What?”

He squeezes onto your wrist almost pointedly. “No, we can’t…can’t take my car. S’not safe.”

“Oh…” Your lashes flutter. “All right. We…we can take the subway. I was going to take it anyway because a friend of mine is borrowing my car for the night, but…that can work. We can make that work.”

He says nothing, instead swaying a bit from the loss of blood as you rush to take hold of him once more.

“All right, okay. You’re okay,” you murmur softly. “Just hold on, okay? It’s only a few stops to my place, and we’ll be there in under twenty minutes.”

He nods weakly in response, and you’re quick to pull his arm around your shoulders in order to help guide him through the parking lot.

He seems grateful for this hold on you. Smirking to himself before leaning over to press his lips to your temple. Keeping you tight against his chest as though the two of you are merely going for a stroll in the park. 

Like a real couple.

You cling to his stained hoodie and help lead him toward the subway station. Making sure that you don’t walk too fast (or too slow) in order to get him there in one piece.

You don’t talk much – although there’s so much you want to say – but you can tell he’s pleased. Grateful to be in your company, even despite the circumstances. 

Once the train arrives, you both slip through the doors, and take a seat near the exit. You push your shoulder into his and he pushes his shoulder into yours. Leaning against each other almost contently and smiling to yourselves as the rest of the crowd saunters on.

The subway is relatively empty for this time of night. Or rather, early morning. And you’re more than all right with that. It means less people to stare at the bloody, bruised man dripping onto the train floor. 

He doesn’t notice the odd looks. He doesn’t seem to notice anything but you, instead staring down at where your fingers are tracing his. The way they run tenderly over the cracked skin across his knuckles before intertwining together.

He hums contently, lips stretching into a gentle grin.

You’re at your stop only fifteen minutes later, practically leaping onto your feet in a rush to get him out.

He seems to have a bit more energy now, perhaps from being able to rest for as long as he did. But he still holds onto you as tightly as he can while you walk along the sidewalk.

And you can’t help but let him.

“My apartment might be a little messy,” you attempt to preface as you head inside the tall building. “I was going to clean it before I left, but something…came up.”

He nods understandingly before glancing over the side of your profile. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” you tease, gesturing toward him.

He smirks, but that curious look doesn’t slip. “Are you?”

You press the elevator button with one hand and squeeze his palm in the other. “I will be once you are.”

Apartment 505 is on the left side of the building, just beside the stairwell. It gives you a perfect view of the city, and you spend most of your days out on the stairwell watching the sun rise and set.

There’s a wreath on your door, hanging just over the number, and your stranger smiles when he sees it. Seemingly amused by the bright flowers and dainty bow that stands out amidst the dark grey paint.

After fumbling with your keys, you finally manage to get you both inside. Exhaling a deep breath and tossing your things toward the coffee table.

“Lock it,” he murmurs just as you’re moving for the kitchen.

“What?”

“The door. Lock it,” he says, almost firmly while nodding toward the handle. “Right now.”

A tad surprised by the resolute tone of voice, you nod, and turn around to oblige. Making sure the lock is turned and the door is secure before glancing over for his approval.

“Good girl,” he mumbles. “I want you to always lock it when you come in, all right? Always.”

“Okay,” you agree softly, returning to him. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” you whisper, raising your hand to his face to press a kiss to his cheek. “Can you let me take care of you now?”

He seems to chuckle as he allows you to stroke his jaw. Settling into your gentle touch before nodding.

Pleased, you take his hand, and lead him toward your small bathroom. Sitting him on the edge of the bathtub in order to get a better look.

But the moment you see each cut and scrape beneath the bright, fluorescent light, there’s a hitch in your breath. Overwhelming you with sorrow and anguish at the sight of him. 

“Harry,” you exhale, almost unintentionally. 

His lashes flutter as he smiles, reaching out to lightly tug on your waitressing dress. “M’okay, Cherry. Really.”

He’s not okay, and you both know it. “I’ll…I’ll need to clean them first. Where…how many are there?”

A beat while he thinks. “There’s a couple on my chest. Plus, the one on my eye, and, you know, my hands.”

You nod, and vaguely gesture toward him, willing yourself not to shake. “Can…may I take off your hoodie? So I can check?”

The corner of his mouth curls up and he nods as well, reaching for the collar of his sweatshirt in order to begin peeling it off his torso.

You attempt to help, making sure he can get his arms through without having to bend too far or cause any strain to the injuries.

But once it’s off, you feel your stomach twist.

 His skin is littered with scars, scrapes, and fresh bruises. A variety of colors that range from light pink to an unsettling yellow. Blood is smeared across tattoos you didn’t even know he had, and there’s a rather nasty gash along the side of his ribcage. 

You hear yourself gasp, and he quickly tugs on your hem again. “Cher—”

However, you brush his hand away and move closer, running the tips of your fingers along his shoulder and down his sternum. Trailing each inch of stained skin until you reach his heart.

“Harry…” you say again.

He takes hold of your wrist and offers you a look of remorse. “I know.”

You aren’t sure you have the strength to ask, instead swallowing thickly as you pull back, and turn around. Searching through your cupboards for everything you’ll need.

He watches you closely, and it seems your reaction causes him more pain than anything else. It’s a look you know well. One where he’s desperate to comfort you, and you wish you could let him.

You rejoin his side with bandages, rubbing alcohol, and a sterilized needle with thread. “All right, I have to clean them first, and then…”

His eyes flick down to the suturing supplies with a smirk. “Ah.”

You grimace. “It’ll probably hurt.”

To your surprise, he shrugs. “No worse than what gave me the cut, I imagine.”

You hum to yourself and move for the alcohol. “And this might sting.”

“Mm. I’m counting on it.”

Dipping a cloth into the potent liquid, you begin to dab at each open cut that’s painted along his body. Making sure to be as gentle as you can and avoid any potential infections.

He tenses every few moments, jaw ticking as he takes steady, even breaths. But he makes no noise of complaint, nor does he flinch away from your touch. Almost leaning into it as you move between each scratch.

“How’s that?” you whisper, glancing over his face curiously before moving for the cut on his brow. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, red-rimmed eyes trained on you. Seeming to study you while you study his injury. “M’okay. Are you?”

You smile. “Yeah. Don’t like hurting you, though.”

“You’re not. Could never.”

“Hope you’re right.”

You smooth back the dark hairs of his eyebrow as gingerly as you can before reaching for the medical tape. Cutting the strips to the right length, you place a couple over the cut, and step back to observe.

“All right,” you declare. “Now, um…now I’ll need to…”

You both look toward his stomach where the worst gash lies, and he nods. “Where do you want me?”

“Just…there. Is fine.” You collect the needle and thread before crouching down near him in order to get closer. “It shouldn’t take too long. Be over before you know it.”

“All right.” He’s oddly calm, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched, Cherry. I’ll be all right.”

 “I can see that,” you mumble to yourself, reaching now for his abdomen. “Just…tell me if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

With a deep breath, you pinch his skin between your fingers, and bring the tip of the needle closer. Piercing the skin and threading it through slowly and with great precision.

He looks down, watching for a moment almost as though fascinated. “You’re really good at that.”

You offer a tight-lipped smile. “Should hope so. Spent three years learning how to do it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. My, uh…my parents really wanted me to pursue a career in the medical field,” you explain as you continue working your way down. “And I thought being a nurse would be good because I liked the idea of helping people. And I liked learning about the body and how to heal it.”

His eyes remain on you.

“Anyway, it didn’t…I didn’t have a great experience in medical school,” you continue. “And it made me realize that it wasn’t what I really wanted to do. I wanted to…help people through food, I guess. Which probably sounds silly—”

“No,” he says, almost immediately. “No, it doesn’t.”

You smile a bit bigger. “Well, my parents were pretty pissed when I dropped out. Which makes sense, since they were the ones paying for it. But…they told me that if I wanted to pursue baking, I’d have to do that on my own. Financially, anyway. Hence all the late shifts at the diner.”

His brows furrow together almost sternly.

“And I don’t mind it. I really like working there. I like my coworkers, I like the people I meet.” You pause now and brave a glance up. “And I really like that it brought me to you.”

There’s a softness in his expression that makes your heart skip. “M’glad it brought you to me, too.”

You chew on the inside of your lip to suppress a rather giddy grin before returning your focus to the wound. “All right, your turn.”

“My turn?”

You nod your chin toward his injured body. “Why do you keep letting this happen?”

He sighs, and his stomach tenses with the strained breath. He wears the same look he wears each time you ask, and you already know he’s searching for the right way to deflect the question. 

“I don’t know.”

You expected nothing less, yet tonight, you insist upon the truth. Scooting closer as you glance up almost pleadingly. “Where do you go? Who does this to you?”

He hesitates. “Cher—”

“I won’t judge you. I’d never judge you, but this isn’t…Harry, this is really scary. And I want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Another heavy pause as you continue the suture. He contemplates his response, the small bathroom filling with a tense sort of energy. You wonder if the truth hurts him more than the scars.

“I…fight,” he finally says, and you feel your pulse stutter. “I get paid to fight. Three nights a week.”

And even though you’d already begun to assume that was the case, you feel the blood drain from your face. “Harry…”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs quickly, reaching out to brush his thumb along your cheek. “I’m okay.”

You want to argue, but you bite your tongue. Zeroing in your focus on your hands.

“I like it,’ he continues. “Don’t know why, but there’s just…there’s this rush, you know? This adrenaline. Makes me feel alive to be so close to death, I guess.”

You hum quietly, features pulling together in a wince. 

“S’about the only thing I’m good at, too,” he adds with a wry chuckle. “And all I have to do is win.”

Your head lifts. “This doesn’t look like a win.”

“Yeah, well. You should’ve seen the other guy.”

And despite his attempt at humor, you look back down, lashes fluttering.

It’s quiet for another long lull before he says, “It’s how I met you.”

You choose to keep your eyes downcast on the needle this time, but your ears perk up.

“One of the guys I work with said your desserts were the best he’d ever had. Said he used to go there all the time, for every fucking meal.”

You pull the thread though his stained skin and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

But his story is undeterred. “And I always get kind of a sugar craving after a fight, so I thought I’d go. And then…you.”

You remember the night vividly. The sight of him, hands wrapped in gauze, eyes dark and inquisitive, that familiar hoodie pulled over his head.

He was mysterious and strange, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

You have been ever since.

“And he was right,” Harry whispers now, tucking his finger beneath your chin until he can see you. “Never had anything as sweet as you.”

Your heart returns to your throat, and there’s a sort of longing in your stomach that can’t be tamped. You aren’t sure if you want to laugh or cry, so you merely release a soft sigh and finish closing the wound.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” you ask of him again. “Really?”

He runs his tongue over his cracked lip. “Sometimes.”

“And would they let you leave? If you wanted to?”

The silence is deafening. 

His thumb moves to your mouth, brushing over the pink fibers that part for him. “Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to find out.”

It’s not a perfect answer. But it’s the one you choose to cling to, reaching up to squeeze his wrist in desperation.

You suppose this explains more than you realized. Why he won’t tell you who he really is. Why he won’t let you into his world. Why he insists on keeping you safe.

But it only makes this new reality that much heavier.

“Just make me a promise, okay?” you exhale. “Promise me that you’ll be all right. That you’ll stay safe. That you won’t…”

The unspoken word carries a weight that nearly crushes you, and he seems to understand as he squeezes your chin.

“That you’ll always come back,” you finish.

“I promise,” he says, even if you both know it’s not a promise he can make. “Always.”

You kiss him. Quickly and without pause, surging forward until your mouth meets his. You take his lips between your own, careful to mind the cut while remembering just how much he enjoys the sting.

Instantly, his hand curls around the back of your neck, tugging you as close as he can get you. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing, and soft grunts that reverberate all the way down to your chest.

“Careful,” you gasp, attempting to pull back when he guides you between his legs. “Your cut—”

“Don’t care,” he whispers, bringing you back to nip at your bottom lip. “Don’t fucking care.”

You whimper against him, hands resting delicately on his chest. “Har—”

“I know. Just missed you. Really missed you, sweet girl.”

He tugs you between his thighs and you allow yourself to be moved. Melting into his touch as he uses his height advantage to fully take control of you. In more ways than one. 

Desperate pants fill the tiny bathroom, and you can’t help but feel undone by him. Already feeling a certain throbbing in the pit of your stomach that can’t be tamed by anything else but him.

“Harry,” you try again, moving your hands to his hair. Carding your fingers through his matted, bloody curls. “Please…”

And then…you feel it. Rather, you feel him. Hard and prominent, pressing right up against you. 

You gasp, and he rests his forehead against yours. Cursing to himself when you nudge yourself forward.

And that’s when you realize. 

“Does pain turn you on?”

There’s a quick pause before he nods once. Trailing his lips along your cheek and toward your throat.

Your head spins. “Really?”

Another motion of his head. “It’s not really pain when it’s you.”

Breathlessly, you drop your touch to his lap, palming him through his dark jeans while he groans again and buries his nose in your neck. Inhaling you deeply while bracing himself against your knelt frame.

“Think it’s my turn now,” you say. “My turn to be good.”

The grip on your neck tightens, and you can feel him release a warm exhale against your collarbone before he’s kissing just below your ear.

Then, he shakes his head, and mumbles, “No.”

You stop, fingers freezing over the bulge between his thighs. “What?”

“No,” he repeats gently. “S’not about me. Wanna make this about you.”

You lean back just far enough to catch his eye. “But—”

“There are a lot of things I’ll never be able to give you. Or do for you,” he explains gingerly. “But I can do this. I want to do this, sweet girl. Wanna give you the fucking world because it’s what you deserve.”

You consider this for only a moment before settling on the floor. “Har…”

His head shakes once more. Thumb stroking the curve of your jaw while tilting your eyes up. “Never be able to tell you how beautiful you are. I don’t…I can’t even understand it. You’re perfect, Cherry. So fucking perfect, and I will spend the rest of my life wanting to be near you.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. One that nearly knocks the wind from your lungs as you gaze at him.

“Wanting to taste you…” he continues, dipping down to brush his nose against yours. “Feel you…touch you. You…are the best goddamn thing I will ever have.”

You whimper, pushing yourself closer until he finally kisses you. “Then let me…”

But he merely smiles. “One day, sweet girl. I promise.”

You want to push. You almost want to insist that he let you take his cock into your mouth, but the look on his face is resolute. Decisive. You aren’t changing his mind, at least not tonight.

And you decide that maybe it’s for the better. His body needs to rest in order to heal, and perhaps any extra strain would hurt him or rip the stitching.

So, you oblige. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”

With a chuckle, he kisses you again. “Good girl.”

The kisses grow more frantic. About as frantic as before, and you have to physically yank yourself out of his grasp in order to calm yourself down.

“No,” you say this time as you stand. “No, you need to lay down. And rest. Okay? Give your body time to heal. And get better.”

He watches you go, but he’s unconvinced, already looping an arm around your hips to pull you back. “This is how I get better.”

And even though you’re concerned for his health, you can’t deny the pulsing between your thighs. “Harry—”

“You make me better,” he says, trailing his lips along your arms, all the way down to your palms. “Always. Fucking always—”

You whine beneath a strained breath, your other hand dropping to his head as you tug on his hair.

In turn, he moans against you, and your knees about buckle. “Let me get better…please…”

And it’s almost like he doesn’t realize he’s said it. A subconscious thought that’s whispered against your skin until it becomes one with your bloodstream.

“Want to,” you say. “I want to, but you need to rest. I need you to rest, Har.”

“I am,” he tries to argue, glancing up through those thick lashes of his. “This is me resting.”

“Harry—”

“Please,” he nearly groans again, pressing his nose into your stomach. “God, please, Cher. Please. M’so fucking lost on you, I can’t…I need…”

He told you once that you’re like a drug to him. That he goes through withdrawals if you’re not near. If he’s gone too long without you.

And, truthfully, you feel about the same. Feeling strung-out and shaky without his touch. Even the sound of his voice. It’s borderline pathetic, yet you don’t ever want to be rid of him.

“You need to rest,” you repeat, although you’re losing conviction. “I want to, but I can’t…I’m worried. You shouldn’t move, you should rest.”

The air becomes charged as he looks back up. “Then ride my face.”

You hesitate. “What?”

“Ride my face,” he says again, practically groaning the instruction. “S’easy, right? Won’t have to move. I’ll just hold you, yeah?”

You feel the heat rush into your cheeks as you blink down at him. “I…you’re already hurt. I don’t want to suffocate you, too—”

“God, suffocate me,” he sighs, grabbing onto the backs of your thighs. Squeezing the flesh in his strong, battered hands pleadingly. “You’d never hurt me, baby, ever. S’all I fucking want. Don’t want anything else but you. Only you. All of you. Want you everywhere.”

And you believe him. You do. But the idea of…and being that close…

“What…but what if it’s too much?” you murmur. “What if I’m too…—”

“Never.” A firm shake of his head. “Fucking never. You would never be too much. Believe me. Tasting you is the only good thing in my life.”

There’s a catch in your throat that you swallow down. “I just…I’ve never…”

His expression softens. Thumbs brushing at your exposed skin before squeezing once more. “It’s okay. S’okay, sweet girl, really. Don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t have to do anything at all. But…I promise you…you could never do anything wrong. Ever. You breathe and you’re perfect.”

And he’s so honest. So good. You know he means it, know he’d never lie about something like this. And you do trust him. More than anything. Trust that he’d never judge you or want anything more from you than what you’re willing to give.

“If you say no, then it’s no,” he adds gently. “End of. Promise.”

But that’s not your problem. You’d happily do anything and everything with him. But you’re worried about his injuries and all the blood he’s already lost. Granted, his suggestion would perhaps be the best alternative, but…

“Fine,” you whisper, squeezing his curls in your fist. “Okay. But you need to be very careful and very still. And if it starts to hurt, we stop. Okay?”

There’s a wicked gleam in his eye. One you recognize all too well, yet it merely makes your pulse jump.

“Okay,” he agrees, almost mischievously. “Deal. Just lead the way.”

You bite back a whimper before glancing toward his knuckles. “I need wrap your hands first—”

“No,” he interjects. “No, leave ‘em. Just for right now. Wanna see them when I hold you.”

And there’s something about the idea that leaves you breathless, making your nails curl into his scalp as if to drag him closer. “Are you sure—”

“Yes.” He tugs on the hem of your dress again, almost as though trying to rip it off. “Yes, m’sure. Please, Cher…”

And you have no choice but to oblige.

You reach down, take his hand, and pull him onto his feet. Quickly and impatiently leading him out of the bathroom and down the hall to your room before pushing the door open and bringing him inside.

He only takes a moment to look around, eyebrows raised while a smile plays at his lips. He studies the array of artwork you have displayed, the baby blue paint on your walls, and the plethora of pillows that sit near your headboard. He seems…enchanted, almost, and it makes you giddy.

“S’cute,” he decides, offering his smirk to you. “Very cute. Very you.”

“Thanks,” you reply anxiously, already looping your arms around his neck in order to yank him back down. “Please?”

He chuckles against your lips before dropping his hands to your waist, nodding once, and pushing you back. “Do you trust me, baby? Trust me to take care of you?”

“Yes,” you answer instantaneously. “Yes, always.”

“Yeah? Know I’ll take care of you?”

“Yes.”

He drops you onto the bed before chasing after you. Lips on your cheek, your neck, your chest. Fingers playing with the buttons on your chest before he whispers, “Can I take this off, sweet girl?”

You motion your head almost frantically, leaning back to give him room.

He undoes your dress and slips it over your head in a matter of seconds. Leaving you in nothing but your underwear as he tosses it toward the floor before surging forward to kiss you again.

He’s seen you before. Seen your chest, your stomach, your thighs. But never in the privacy of your own home, and the way he seems to look at you now feels as though it changes everything. Like he’s looking at you for the very first time.

“Baby,” he breathes, pulling your lip between his teeth before groaning. “God…s’fucking cruel you have to hide this behind such a hideous dress.”

You grin against his mouth, scooting back in order to make space for him. “Then maybe you should come around and take it off more often.”

He likes this idea, chuckling to himself before grabbing hold of your hips, and flipping over onto his back. Effectively pulling you with him until you’re straddling his waist.

With a gasp, you glance down to his newly stitched cut, quickly inspecting in order to make sure nothing has been ripped or pulled. “Harry, you can’t—”

“Shh,” he coos, pulling on the back of your neck to bring you down again. Nose nudging with yours. “M’okay. I’ll tell you, yeah?”

“But—”

“I’m all right,” he insists quietly. “Promise. Just need you.”

You swallow the rest of your complaints, allowing your body to be pulled into his before he’s moving both hands to your naked thighs. Stroking along the tender, soft flesh and kneading it tenderly.

“Think you’re ready, baby?” he whispers. “Hm? Gonna let me have a taste?”

And even if you’re somewhat apprehensive, the lust that swims within the bottom of your stomach makes you whimper. Urging you to say, “Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good girl,” he hums, gliding his palms toward your ass before patting it once. “Up you go.”

You imagine you seem somewhat terrified, but his look of encouragement goes straight to your cunt. Encouraging you up his body until you can place your knees on either side of his head.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes already gluing to your panties. “So good, baby. Can you hold onto me? Hold onto my hair? And tug it if it’s too much?”

You nod weakly and drop your fingers to his curls. Brushing them gently while he smiles, lashes fluttering.

“Good girl,” he says again, and it makes you clench around nothing. “M’gonna pull you down now, okay? Don’t worry about anything. Just let me make you feel good. Promise I’ll be all right.”

You whimper beneath a deep breath before nodding again and allowing him to guide you down to his face.

You feel the tip of his nose ghost across the edge of your panties, right near your clit. And you can help but buck up, gasping as you squirm away from the stimulating touch.

But his hold on you is unrelenting, tightening when he feels you twitch before yanking you back into position.

“Uh-uh, sweet girl, none of that,” he warns softly, mouth dancing down your covered cunt. Tauntingly. Deviously. “M’just having some fun, yeah? Gonna let me have fun with such a pretty pussy?”

When you don’t answer, he gently smacks his hand against the side of your thigh.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, gathering his curls in your fist. “Yes, I…I will.”

“Mm. Good. Cause m’having so much fun with you, Cher. You know that? Always have fun getting to play with what’s mine.”

This possession sends chills down your spine and your chest heaves from the way he flattens his tongue against your underwear before dragging it down.

He seems to bask in your whines, moaning against your cunt before curling his fingers into your skin. Forcing you down even further until you’re nearly sat on his mouth.

His technique is sinful. Just enough to tease you and leave you wanting more. Effortlessly casting out any doubts or hesitation as you begin to settle in his hold, permitting him to keep you against his tongue until he sighs contently.

“Fucking killing me, baby,” he says, lifting you up in order to reach for the soft material against your pussy and drag it to the side. “Ready, sweet girl?”

You nod quickly.

“Promise to tug me if it’s too much or you want to stop?”

“Yes…yes, Har, please—”

“I know,” he shushes. “Just so well behaved for me, aren’t you? Hold still for me, all right?”

You go to nod again, but before you can, his lips are meeting your clit. Pressing the most innocent of kisses to the sensitive nerves until you choke on his name and yank his curls.

He seems to realize this aggression has more to do with the pleasure than the pain, and you can practically feel him smirk into your cunt before he does it again. Over and over and over, making your eyes roll back and your throat run dry with desperate pants and whimpers.

Then…he sucks. Takes your clit into his mouth before flattening his tongue and dragging it through.

You’ve never felt this kind of stimulation. This kind of overwhelming pleasure that goes directly to your toes.

Sure, he’s eaten you out before, but he’s never been this…close. He’s devouring you from the inside out. Forcing you against his mouth as though his life depends on it. 

The hold on your hip is unforgiving, and you’re almost sure you’ll see remnants of him on your skin tomorrow. The tips of his fingers tattooing to your waist and marking you as his forevermore. 

You aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Overcome with lust and infatuation for the man between your thighs. The way he expertly slides his lips through your folds, drowning in you.

The tip of his tongue teases your hole, and you feel him groan at the way your pussy flutters from the slight intrusion. And the vibration of his greed makes your hands tighten in his hair. Nail scraping so hard down his scalp, you’re sure you’ll draw blood.

But he loves it. Seems to thrive off it. Going in a bit further before dragging your arousal up to your clit and flicking.

Then, he swallows you down.

“Harry,” you gasp, and you wish you could see him. Wish more than anything that you could gaze down at his face and watch while he does this to you. 

He always tends to get a sort of mesmeric look in his eye when he’s making you cum. Almost like he’s in a trance. Hypnotized by your body, drunk off the way he’s making you feel.

You imagine that’s about how he looks now, and you’d give anything to see those beautiful, hazy eyes just once.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, pulling away just long enough to speak. “You’re okay, yeah?”

You nod quickly. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay. I promise—please…”

He understands your request perhaps better than anyone and smiles to himself before going back in. It’s far too easy to unravel you, it seems. All he has to do is suck, and flick, and slide his mouth along your dripping pussy, and you’re done for. Already nearing release before he’s even really begun.

He senses this, and instantly goes harder. Faster. Tongue fucking into your clenching hole relentlessly until you cry out his name…and let go.

You hardly have time to register what’s happening or warn him of your impending orgasm. Nor do you have the time to remove yourself from him before accidently crushing him between your thighs and beneath your weight.

Yet through every second, he holds on. Keeps you exactly where you were, stuck in his hold, glued to his tongue. Until every drop of your cum belongs to him.

“Har…Harry,” you pant, uncurling your fingers from his hair. “Okay, it’s okay…I came, I—”

“I know,” he mumbles, leaving another kiss to your clit. “And you’re gonna do it again.”

It’s resolute. He leaves no room for bargaining or questioning before he’s going back in. Quick flicks of his tongue through your pussy until you feel breathless.

It’s sloppy. Everything about it is sloppy and wet. The sounds, his technique. The way he makes out with your cunt as though it’s the best thing he’s ever had. And, truthfully, you imagine he believes it is.

He repeats the movement of his tongue along the overstimulated nerves until you begin to shake. Never letting up, even when you begin to whine rather pitifully. Instead, he squeezes your waist, and keeps you close. Makes sure you take every second of this blissful affliction until you cum for a second time. 

The moment you do, he readjusts his hold on your panties in order to slip a finger inside. Forcing you up onto your knees so he can nip at your clit and fuck his finger into you with a newly determined fervor.

“Harry,” you cry out again, moving one hand to your headboard to brace yourself. “Can’t…can’t—”

“You’re all right,” he hums, the tip of his nose pressing hard into your skin. “You’re all right, sweet girl. Just want one more, okay?”

 And you believe him. You do believe you’re all right, even if the painful pleasure he’s dragging you into nearly kills you. Making your legs shake and your lungs heave.

You want to give him another. You want to give him all of your orgasms, forever. And he knows this, so he adds a second finger, and pumps you mercilessly.

The sound echoes through your room, loud and lewd. But it intertwines beautifully with his soft murmurs of encouragement: 

“Good, baby, just like that. Fucking squeezin’ me, aren’t you? Hm? S’it feel good? Feel so good to ride my face?”

You can’t answer. Want to. Can’t. Skin growing hot as sweat beads at your hairline. Muscles burning, aching, crying out for reprieve.

But all you really feel…is him.

“One more, come on,” he urges, increasing the speed of his tongue and his thrusts. “Can feel how close you are, sweet girl. Know you want to, yeah?”

You whimper softly, body tensing with the impending release.

“Yeah? I know. Know you’re so close. Bet it hurts, doesn’t it? S’just too much for this sweet little pussy, hm?”

He curls those long digits into your cunt until you moan, thighs trembling beside his head as you attempt to keep yourself upright. “Har, please—”

“What? What do you need?”

Everything, all of it, whatever it takes. You aren’t even sure, you just need…more.

He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg. Kissing and sucking into the tender skin while his fingers continue to encourage you closer. 

“Just taste so good, don’t you?” He trails his lips back toward your cunt. Lazily mouthing at your clit as if to torture you. “Get so wet for me. S’precious. So fucking precious.”

He uses his fingers to spread you open. Exhaling against your dripping cunt until you begin to squirm. Writhing away from the sensation while he does it again.

“Mm-mm,” he tuts, pulling you closer. “Told you no, sweet girl. Said I could play with you, so I am. Thought you were behaving for me?”

He exploits your need to please him. To obey and win his approval, and it nearly drives you mad.

“Know it’s a lot, baby,” he coos next, slipping back inside and curling. “Know you’re all sensitive. Not used to being so overstimulated, are you?”

He’s right, you’re not. Apart from him, nobody else has ever really taken the time.

“Makes me wonder,” he continues gently. “Wonder how you touch yourself…here in this very room.”

He pulls your clit between his teeth and tugs until you gasp.

“Tell me, Cherry. Tell me how you touch yourself when I’m not around.”

Your mind goes blank. Darkening around the edges while you suck in quick pants for air.

“Tell me,” he repeats, coarse and riddled with an insatiable hunger. “Tell me what you think about. D’you think about me, baby? Think about how good you look on my tongue?”

You find just enough strength to nod as you squeeze his curls and whimper out your agreement. 

“Yeah? Go on, tell me.”

Your mouth drops open, yet nothing else comes out. Save for a plethora of pathetic whines and anxious mewling.

He seems to laugh, the low sound sending goosebumps across the back of your neck. “What’s the matter, Cher? Pussy got your tongue?”

You can hardly acknowledge the joke as you go reeling forward, just barely able to catch yourself against the headboard before collapsing. “You…you,” you finally groan. “Always you, Harry. Always.”

“Me?” You can hear the faux fascination. “You think about me, baby? What do you think about?”

What don’t you think about? “Your…your fingers,” you stammer. “And…and your mouth.”

“Yeah? Good girl. What else?”

You’re too close to think straight, already falling victim to your orgasm before it’s even found you. “You…your…your…”

“S’okay, baby, come on. Tell me.”

You swallow thickly and will yourself to speak. “Think…think about taking you. About how you’d feel. How you’d…be.”

“How I’d be, hm?” The hand on your hip tightens almost possessively. “How would you want me to be? How would you want me to fuck you?”

 An array of positions flash through your mind. The echoing of his groans and pants in your ear as he fucks you. The way he’d hold onto your leg and push it into the bed. The way he’d pull your hair and demand you take him. That you behave, be good. 

There’s something about him, you realize. Something about his dominance that makes you feel safe. Seen and cared for.

You want him to tell you what to do. Want to give him full control of your body and mind. Make your decisions for you so you don’t have to wrestle with them yourself. You trust him. Trust that he’d always put you first.

“Any way you want,” you finally answer. “Any…any way. Hard…slow…fast…deep. Just wanna be good for you.”

The noise he makes against your pussy is animistic. Virile and obsessed, and his mouth reattaches to your clit almost like a reward. 

“Good,” he nearly growls. “Know you would be. Know you’d be fucking perfect, yeah? Let me stretch this sweet, little pussy anyway I’d like?”

 “Yes. Yes, Harry, please—”

“Just take it, wouldn’t you? Take me so well?” He yanks you down so hard, you wonder if he can even breathe. Truthfully, you don’t think he cares either way. “What else do you think about, sweet girl? Think about me tying you up?”

You nod zealously, sneaking a glance at the headboard almost as though to recreate your fantasy. 

“Yeah? What else? Would you want me to spank you?” He follows this inquiry up with a quick – albeit gentle – slap to your outer thigh. “S’that what you want?”

“Harry—”

“What about your pretty, little throat, hm? D’you want me to hold it in my hand? Squeeze it till you see stars?”

The thought sends you into a frenzy. Stomach flipping in on itself until you’re clenching so hard around his fingers, you’re surprised they don’t break.

“Yeah? Oh, sweet girl,” he coos, slowly and almost inconspicuously sneaking a third digit into play. Filling you exactly the way you need. “My dirty little Cherry just wants to be taken care of, doesn’t she?”

You have nothing more to offer him. No more noises, no more whines, no more pleas. Your throat has gone dry, and your body is trembling almost violently.

He grins. “Then I’ll always take care of what’s mine.”

You’re not sure what does it. If it’s the way he strokes his fingers into that sweet spot in your cunt, the way he skims his tongue against your clit, or if it’s his promise. 

But no matter the cause, your third orgasm overwhelms you. Pulls you down into the deepest part of your pleasure before ripping you apart. Seam by seam.

He swallows every second of it. Attempting to drag the stimulation on for as long as he can before you have to psychically take yourself away in order to breathe. 

“Okay, okay,” you whimper, returning to the bed just beside him. “Can’t…I can’t…”

“Okay,” he agrees in a soft, soothing tone. Quicky reaching out to press his hand to your cheek while his thumb brushes at your heated skin. “Okay, we’re done. Did so good for me.”

Your lashes flutter as your vision slowly returns, and when you see him, you about moan.

During his ravaging of your pussy, the cut on his lip reopened, and now, blood is smeared across his mouth and chin. Glistening from his skin right beside the remnants of you.

You don’t imagine you’ve ever seen something so erotic. You also never imagined you’d find it so appealing, and yet the way it looks painted across his sharp jaw and swollen lips…

You surge forward and kiss him. So hard and so fast, you imagine you’ve made him dizzy. 

Instantly, his palm is pressing to the back of your head. Keeping you against his mouth while slowly pulling you back into his embrace. And he holds you against his chest while moaning something that sounds a lot like, “Fucking hell.”

 You kiss until the sun comes up. The soft, warm beams of light slipping through your curtains, setting the whole room – and your tired bodies – aglow. 

His mouth moves to your neck. “You still with me, baby?”

You smile. “Always.”

“Good.” He leaves one, final kiss. “And you’re feeling all right?”

“Mhm. Are you?”

“Oh, I’m more than all right, sweet girl. M’fucking perfect.”

He guides back onto his chest. Limbs tangling together as he puts your body between his legs until he can hold you properly. Even despite your fussing over his injuries.

But it’s not until you’ve begun to settle that you feel it. “Harry?” you whisper softly.

“Mm?”

“…did you cum?”

He smiles before pressing his lips to your forehead. “Yeah.”

“But I didn’t…I mean I didn’t get to—"

“You just have that effect on me, Cher,” he murmurs, snaking his arms a bit tighter around your frame. “Told you. Making you feel good is all I want.”

You glance up, expression wounded. “Why won’t you let me help? I thought…I mean, you keep saying you want me to, but you never…you won’t let me.”

The bedroom falls silent as he considers this. The sage green in his eye melting into something golden from the reflection of the sunrise.

He reaches out and brushes his thumb across your mouth. Seeming to clean you of the blood that smeared when you kissed.

“I didn’t want this to be about me,” he finally says. “I never do.”

You merely frown. “But I want to do it. Do you not…I mean, do you think I can’t or something?”

A soft chuckle. “Oh, I know you can. Know you’d use this pretty little mouth just right, yeah?”

You nod.

“Yeah.” He squeezes your chin. “I meant what I said. One day. There are a lot of things I want to do with you. Be for you. But right now, I can’t…I’m not in a place where I can offer them to you. Not with…everything else going on.”

Your stomach sinks as you realize. You might not understand the complexities of his job or his life, but you do understand his concern. And you trust that he doesn’t make this decision lightly. 

“Besides,” he adds coyly, “they kind of have a rule about it.”

“Oh, do they?”

“Yeah. Something about reduced testosterone and decreased aggression. I don’t know, s’probably bullshit.” A nonchalant shrug. “Just means I get to keep the focus on you. Which is all I really want, anyway.”

“I can tell,” you tease, reaching up to brush your nose against his. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re perfect.” He says it so easily. As though it needs no thought. “Baby, you have no fucking idea how beautiful you are. Touching you is the closest I will ever get to heaven.”

You wonder how he does that. How he always manages to say exactly what you need to hear. And make you believe it. Every time.

You kiss him again, but it’s slow. Soft and gentle and full of an unspoken emotion that nearly overwhelms you. 

You fall asleep against his heart. His lips in your hair, your fingers on his chest. And for the next few hours, you dream of nothing but him.

By the time you wake, it’s nearly afternoon. Your muscles are sore and your body aches from the decisions and positions of the night before. 

But it’s a good sort of pain. The kind that reminds you of how willing you are to do it again.

You’re both quiet as you stir, and it’s comfortable. As though you’re used to waking up together. Exchanging nothing more than smiles and a hoarse, “Morning.”

After offering him some cereal, you ask if he’d like to take a shower. Maybe change into something else before you take him back to the diner so he can retrieve his car and you can pick up yours from your friend.

He politely declines, but he does agree to your stipulation that you check his wounds before you leave. He even stands perfectly still while you assess each cut and stitch in order to make sure everything is still in place.

Which to your surprise, it is.

Once you’ve gathered your things, you exit your apartment (after locking it as previously instructed), and head for the subway station.

It’s almost strange to see him in the light of day. He’s still as effortlessly striking as before, if not perhaps more. His skin looks a bit more tan, and his hair seems softer in the sun. But he walks with a kind of confidence you almost envy, slinging his arm around your shoulders just like the night before. This time, out of possession.

And you grin the whole way there.

It feels normal. Feels good. Natural. Like it was always meant to be. You and him. Always.

Your heart begins to sink with each step closer you get to the diner. You cling to his hoodie as though it physically hurts to say goodbye. And in turn, he pulls you in tighter to his heart, as if refusing to let you.

“I’ll walk you in,” he murmurs once you reach the parking lot, and you nod gratefully. Already taking in a deep breath as you prepare to watch him leave.

You see your car near the front of the diner, signaling that your friend is here to drop off the keys. And you almost feel nervous because you aren’t sure how to explain Harry. Or if you even need to explain him at all. 

If he’d want you to.

A part of you wants to protect him from everybody else. From their prying eyes and inquisitive questions. From their haughty, judgmental stares and this idea that they know who he really is.

Instead, you take his hand in yours, and squeeze. Offering him one last smile to hold you over until you see him again.

Which you can only hope will be soon.

He pushes the door open and leads you inside. Loosening his grip on you almost regretfully while your heart sinks down into your toes.

But the moment you both step beneath the light, he stops. Suddenly and with a strained inhale as fingers retighten around yours, halting you in place.

Concerned, you glance over the side of his face rather curiously before following his eyeline further into the diner.  

And that’s when you see him. 

“Hey, thanks again for letting me borrow your car,” your friend says, sliding off one of the barstools in order to hand you your keys. “I really appreciate it. It was a huge help.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” you murmur before looking back to the tense man beside you. “Uh…this is my friend, Jesse. And Jesse, this is—”

“Harry,” Jesse says for you, lips curling up almost knowingly before he’s nodding once. 

Now even more confused, your head tilts while Harry’s skin instantly pales, his jaw clenching as his grip on your hand gets stronger.

But despite your muddled expression, Jesse merely chuckles to himself and steps forward, dragging his eyes from you to the tall stranger holding you.

“I see you finally found my girl.”

EEEEE I AM HAVING WAY TOO MUCH FUN

Next Part:

~ Reckless*

Previous Part:

~ Knockout*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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[dontopenfairies]

“You’re holding so well. Just one more cup of water, okay?” She takes his glass from him and he waits on the couch while she fills it up in the kitchen. The elastic waistband of his diaper is pressing firmly against his lower belly and the soft material feels so relaxing and inviting…but he can see phone’s timer ticking down on the coffee table and he still has another half-hour to go.

“Here, sweetheart,” she says, passing him the glass of water and interrupting his thoughts. He mutters a thank you and starts to drain the glass. “You’re doing so well, I’m not even sure if I should have put you in a diaper. You might make it this time!”

I’m not too sure about that, he thinks, as his crotch and bladder start to really tingle. He leans back a little on the couch, waiting for the wave to pass.

“How about this,” she says, tapping her fingers on her chin thoughtfully, “how about we go sit on the toilet for the rest of the timer?”

Oh no, he thinks, but she’s made up his mind. She scoops her phone up off the table and grabs his forearm, helping him off the couch. She follows him to the bathroom, keeping so close behind him she’s practically pushing him with her body.

As soon as he stood up, the tingling feeling got ten thousand times worse. He can feel it in his whole belly and even his upper thighs. Deep inside his bladder a little burning feeling is starting. And as he sits down on the toilet, he feels his urethra open.

“Mommy, I really don’t think I’m going to make it!” he blurts out. The far-away feeling of the toilet seat and the open hole in the middle is making it so much harder to resist flooding his diaper. He’s trying to concentrate and get his urethra to lock up again.

But his girlfriend isn’t listening. She’s putting on soft music on her phone. The extra noise and the bright bathroom light is making him feel overstimulated. Don’t think about that, he thinks. Concentrate on your groin. You can hold it. Just…don’t move…

The first few minutes he thinks he’s doing okay. Mommy gives him a comic book to read and leaves and room to check on other things around the house. When she comes back he can definitely feel the urge, but he’s optimistic that he can maybe make it through the timer. After all, he has a really big and strong bladder.

She’s standing over him now, stroking the side of his face. He feels his lips part and his mouth fall open. It’s so relaxing… a tiny, tiny spurt of warm liquid slips out of him and quickly soaks into his padding. He sits up straighter, suddenly alert.

“Are you going to pee in your diaper, baby?” she asks, unbuttoning the first button of his shirt one-handed and sliding her hand down his chest.

“N-no,” he stammers, as she caresses up from his nipple to his neck.

“Okay,” she says. “You think you’re pretty far away from having an accident. I bet you can hold it a little bit longer.” She steps towards him, gazing into his eyes, and it’s so overwhelming. He can smell her, warm and musky and perfumey, and she’s smiling down at him…

“I can hold it,” he says.

“Ohh, you’re such a good boy! So eager and so polite. I think we should add another five minutes to the timer, sweet boy. I bet you could even do that. Couldn’t you? Couldn’t you show Mommy what a strong bladder you have?”

He nods vigorously, embarrassed of what her condescending tone is doing to him. She comes back over and wraps her arms around him again. He can feel his dick twitching. Even his legs are twitching a little bit. He’s trying to tighten up all of the muscles in his lower body…another little spurt of pee soaks his diaper. And then another, longer one. He gasps.

“Baby isn’t peeing his diaper, is he?”

He shakes his head, but another spurt comes out. He manages to catch it before it becomes a stream, but his eyes prick with tears.

“Are you crying?”

“No, my eyes are just…oh!” He gasps as another spurt of pee comes out. He wants to relieve himself so bad now, he wants to feel it soak the diaper, wet and warm. But he wants it to come out slowly, and if he lets go it’ll jet out.

“Baby, I think you’re peeing your pants, aren’t you? Are you peeing in your pants?”

He shakes his head, hands involuntarily grasping the sides of the toilet seat. “No, Mommy, it was just a little bit!” But then another little bit comes out. There’s no way he can close up now. His girlfriend’s hands are undoing his fly, and her fingers are bumping him all over around his lower belly and his thighs. Right as she cups the front of his diaper with his hand, a long spurt escapes him.

“Ohh, I think someone’s peeing right now,” she says. “Aww, honey, look. Three minutes left on the timer. Can you make it? Hold it, baby. Hold it.”

“I c-can’t!” he says, feeling more pee saturate the diaper. It’s starting to feel heavy around his legs, and he’s embarrassed of how much he’s already gone when it feels like he has so much more in him. The spurts start to converge into longer streams, stopping and starting as he loses control. “Mommy, I’m peeing!”

“Ohh, sweetheart, and with two minutes and thirty seconds left on the timer. Looks like you couldn’t make it.”

The stream is letting up but he still feels like there’s more in him. “Mama,” he says, pulling her down to his level. “I think I need to go pee-pee more but it’s not coming out.” He bends at the waist and leans forward, crossing his arms over his stomach.

“Push, baby, remember? Pretend like you’re going number two.” She rubs his shoulders over his shirt. “Lean forward a little more and push, okay, honey? Can you do that for Mommy?” He immediately complies, and she gets close to his ear. “You’re such a pervert. Immediately doing anything I tell you just to show me how wimpy and babyish you are. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be all wimpy and babyish and needy?”

He’s taken aback. She doesn’t usually tease him this much and it’s making him feel all blushy and shy. Distracted, he pushes again, and this time soft, mushy poop fills his diaper. He hadn’t even realized he needed to go! He sits up immediately, looking at Mommy.

“I just…um…! I think I just, I mean, accidentally, like, um…”

“What? Did you finish going pee?”

“I…I think so…but it isn’t really that, I…”

“Did you just poop yourself?”

“Um…maybe a little bit.”

“Let me see.” She teaches her hand down the back of the toilet bowl and squeezes his butt through his pants. “That’s not a little bit, honey. That’s a full-blown accident. Is there something you didn’t tell me? Do you have a problem with this?”

“N-no, I…”

“It’s okay, honey, you can admit it. Are you not fully potty trained at the age of 25? It’s okay if you’re not, honey, you just need to tell me.”

“I am!! It was just a mistake! I don’t usually…I don’t even REMEMBER the last time I…”

“Honey, boys who don’t go poopy in their pants don’t…well, they don’t poop their pants!” she says, laughing. “Stand up, baby. We need to give you a diaper change. And I think you need to be in diapers for a little while.”

[suiana]

(yandere! foreign exchange student x gn! reader) (thanks for 8k 😍😍)

"can you stop being so annoying?"

"what?"

he stares at you with a raised eyebrow, pouting as he rests his cheek on his palm. with both arms propped up on the table, he reaches out his other arm towards you. obviously you back away in disgust at his affection... and you can't help but notice the way he narrows his eyes at your reaction.

he, as in, your annoying buddy. hiroto yamada, your buddy for the foreign exchange program which you were unwillingly made to participate in.

you knew bad things would happen when you saw the program, yet you were made to participate in it because you had joined the university wellbeing club. curse you and your past impulsive decisions.

honestly, things were fine in the beginning. apart from the fact that you had to socialize with others and waste your breath explaining things in the university... everything was quite alright. he wasn't too extroverted, liked to keep to himself as well...

that was until you started suspecting that he liked you.

you didn't want to believe it. there was no way. like, it's literally the absolute worse thing that could happen that would disrupt your peaceful school life.

so you pretended to not see the obvious signs he threw at you. you treated him like how you used to treat him, aka like a classmate you wouldn't talk to outside of class...

so it wasn't unexpected that he'd get frustrated. in fcat, it was actually a wonder that he managed to go for so long without shouting at you to stop ignoring the signs (he lasted 6 weeks).

eventually he confessed but... you didn't accept. duh. you didn't even like him that way! you didn't even treat him like a close friend so why would you fall or accept his love?

so you rejected him. understandable response.

but he wouldn't take it for an answer.

so he constantly pestered you in hopes that you'd finally give in and say yes. which is what led you to your current situation.

"you know, trying to act like my boyfriend..."

"but I'm just practicing for the future that will happen?"

he raises an eyebrow, seemingly confused as you roll your eyes at his reply. you make no move to explain yourself because you knew that he understood what you meant. he's a smart guy after all. he just likes playing dumb to get on your nerves.

and right now he's doing that.

you honestly wanted to just beat him up but that'll never work out in your favor. so you settle for the next best thing and that's to ignore him. and it always works.

turning around to face away from him, you plug in your ear phones and tune his blabbering out as you attempt to ignore him. it worked for a little bit but he always gets irritated the second you lose interest in him.

"hey pay attention to me..."

he whines softly, tugging on your shirt. you continue to ignore him, humming softly as you scroll on social media. oh this is a nice post-

but the second you move your hand to like it, he yanks the phone out of your grip and hides it in his bag. his face displays an annoyed expression, furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips.

you wanted to smack his face so bad. and you were just about to do that until he speaks in a chilling tone.

"you can't keep ignoring me. you know that we'll end up with each other. it's inevitable."

he mumbles before caressing your cheek. you shiver, eyes wide as your blood runs cold. shit! unconsensual touch! unconsensual touch!

but as much as you hated his touch, you couldn't move away for you were too frozen in fear. he always had a way of scaring you with his voice. and he loved to abuse it.

"you're really going to make me mad... so please don't keep resisting. it's not humourous or cute."

he mutters quietly before giggling as he lets go of your face. all you do is stare at him, still frozen in place as you gulp and finally look away.

god damn it. you really should've fought harder to get out of the exchange program.

[cornsoupflavour]

Sorry, I Found Better (Twice NSFW Smut)

[ New Collaboration Pt. 2 – See Pt. 1 ]

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Mina Myoi x Manager!Male Reader

Tags: 3.5k words, semi-cheating, multiple creampies, sweat, sharing, manager x idol, romance, wholesome, possible breeding/impreg, body praise

Months after her encounter with the new idol, Mina realised that she wanted more. Not more of him, but more of that feeling he gave. After some reflection, she realised he didn’t satisfy her as much as she wanted him to. Even the collaboration faded into the back of both their minds. After the two drifted apart despite the hope he had for the both of them to continue to see each other, Mina was left feeling rather empty – both physically and figuratively.

The feeling became worse after the whole incident with you and Momo. That whole ordeal made her feel some type of way, like that was what she wanted. She wasn’t sure if it was you, Momo or the both of you, she wanted to get a taste of whatever you two had. But alas, with the fact you and Momo were dating now, it felt as if that were to never come true.

It’d been a while since she treated herself to some retail therapy, and thought that might be what she needed at the time. She grabbed her things, put on a really spicy outfit, and headed out.

She walked around the mall, checking out branded bags and jewelry when she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

"Mina?"

Mina turned around to be greeted with Momo’s bright smile and tantalisingly curvy body. Mina’s smile widened even further as she saw you approaching from behind Momo.

"Momo!"

The two girls leaped into each other’s embrace excitedly. It’s been a week or so since they last saw each other in person but it seemed as though that was long enough. The girls chatted for a bit, giggling and gossiping. You couldn’t help but notice Mina, sneaking in glances at you, once in a while.

You flashed a warm smile each time you felt her gaze on you. You might be with Momo, but you couldn’t deny the allure Mina had on you.

"Anyway, I’ve gotta be somewhere now, you two have fun, alright~?" Mina chimed as she pulled Momo in for a really tight hug. "Mr. Manager, huh? Good job, Momo... Say, you up to share?"

"With you Mina? Of course~ TWICE’s J–Line has to stick together right?"

Wow, she thought Momo would be more possessive... Maybe this could be the start of something new and special.

"Mhm~"

"But I mean, I won’t say no if the other girls ask to share him either... As long as I remain his favourite~"

"Hehe~ Of course~"

Your eyes shifted around, unable to discern what the whispering was about. But as quickly they embraced, they pulled away. Mina gave Momo a fluttery wave before turning to you and winking.

As Mina left, Momo wrapped her arms around yours before continuing the errands you had to run.

Later on that night, as you had settled into a comfortable routine with Momo by your side, nestled in your bed. You were about to drift off to sleep when your phone buzzed. It was Mina.

"What? It’s like... 11PM..."

Momo turned over, her beautiful eyes locking with yours with a soft gaze.

"Who is it, baby? Is it Mina?"

"Yeah, how’d you know?"

Momo giggled, bringing her hand up to your cheek and caressing it gently.

"Us girls just know... But I encourage you to go, trust me."

A soft smile graced her lips as she leaned forward and planted a soft but longing kiss on yours. A few moments later, the both of you pulled away. You nodded reluctantly as you got out of bed, walking over to your closet to grab some new clothes.

"If she asks to head back to her place, do it. I’ll be fine tonight, baby. Don’t worry about me~"

You frowned a little, as you approached her side of the bed to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. "Are you two planning something?"

"Hmm... You’ll just have to find out~"

You shook your head amused before grabbing the keys and heading out. "Love you, Momo. If you need anything, just call, alright?"

Momo nodded, "Love you too, Y/N~ Bring my beloved Mr. Manager back in one piece, alright?"

"I will," you chuckled as you left your home and made your way to the meeting spot Mina had picked. Luna Cafe... 

Upon arriving, the lights around the cafe were dim. Not in a ‘scary, dangerous alleyway’ dim but more of a ‘romantic evening with your spouse’ type dim. You walked in, amazed that a cafe would still be open at this time of night. The lights within the cafe were the same romantic dim, a soft jazz tune playing in the background.

You scanned the patrons before spotting Mina, seated in a corner. Her eyes zeroed in on you the moment you walked in. When your gazes finally met, she waved you over. She wore a white turtleneck, a black coat and some tight black jeans.

You approached the table, a soft smile on your face as you took a seat. "So, Mina, you wanted to see me? What’s going on?"

"Mr. Manager... I have to come clean... Earlier this year, I met a new idol..."

Mina began to explain her situation and what she did. You sat there listening attentively. Once done, she sighed.

"But, I don’t know. Something felt missing between us. Or well, it felt as though HE was missing something..."

"What might that be?"

"I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but... when we caught you and Momo in the hotel room the other night... I realised that was what he was missing."

You blushed deeply. You and Momo had already slept and fucked well over three times now, but somehow, you still feel embarrassed and shy when someone brought it up. "W–What do you mean? What did you realise?"

Mina breathed a deep sigh before placing her hands onto yours, her thumbs tracing circles on the back of your hands. "I realised... he wasn’t you, Mr. Manager..."

"...I guess I’ll just come out and say it... Mr. Manager, I want you to fuck me the same way you did Momo."

Your eyes widened. Did she really just say that? "Mina... Y’know, I..."

"If this is about how Momo would react, don’t worry about it. I made sure to discuss this with her and Jihyo before this. Please, Mr. Manager... please show me that you love me as much as you love Momo and the others..."

You froze. This was... quite the temptation. You took a moment to yourself to think. As you looked into her eyes, her motherly yet youthful appearance, her gummy smile and her toned body... You couldn’t say no.

"Alright, Mina. I’ll do it. Is there anything else you’d want me to do before we go through with this? I take it you want to join my relationship with Momo."

Mina's eyes lit up with excitement, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Yes, please. Let's go to my place. It's not far." she said, standing up from the table.

"Like right now...?"

Mina nodded, a slight seductive glint in her eye. That’s when you remembered what Momo said and decided to go with it.

You followed her out of the cafe, the two of you strolling through the quiet streets. The night air was cool, the city lights casting a soft glow over the surrounding area. The both of you engaged in some small talk, discussing music, the latest gossip within the industry and what it’s like to be dating THE Momo Hirai.

"Y’know, you’re a lucky man. In–charge of a group of attractive girls, even dating one of them? I know people who would kill to be in your place..."

"Yeah, I really lucked out. Momo’s the best thing to have ever happened to me... besides becoming TWICE’s manager, of course."

The both of you chuckled as you felt her body leaning slightly onto yours. She wrapped her arms around one of yours as you walked. Initially, you felt a little put off, but you slowly warmed up to it. If Momo says it's alright, it's alright.

A few moments later, the two of you arrive at her apartment. Mina's apartment was cozy and filled with a sense of warmth. The smell of recently–baked cookies lingered throughout the space. There were posters of various artists adorning her walls, including TWICE and some of her solo endeavors.

"Comfortable, right?" Mina asked, leading you to a couch.

"Very much so. I didn’t think you’d keep all the posters I gave all of you for each of your tours..." you replied, taking a seat.

"Yeah well, you gave them to me, so I gotta, right?"

Mina sat beside you, her hand gently brushing against yours. "I appreciate you coming here, Mr. Manager. I know this is a little confusing for you, especially since you're already with Momo."

"It's alright, Mina. Momo’s alright with it and I want to make you happy too," you assured her.

Your gazes locked as she slowly brought her face closer to yours. Your lips met, your tongues dancing together in an intimate embrace. Mina's hands slid down, gripping your waist before moving lower to unbuckle your belt.

She pulled away momentarily, "Mr. Manager–"

"Please, Mina... call me Y/N."

Mina blushed slightly, "A–Alright, Y/N... I want you to breed me, alright?"

Your eyes widened, unsure if what you heard was right. Breed? Like... start a family? Mina could sense the shock behind your widened eyes.

"You heard me right, Y/N... I discussed this with Momo... she said that she’d allow you to get me pregnant... but if you want to breed her first, I’d totally understand."

You stuttered, unable to get words out of your mouth. Before long, your body moved on its own, leaning forward and joining your lips together once more. It appears your decision has been made. Whether it happens or not, you are going to attempt to breed Mina.

As the makeout continued, Mina pulled away once more. "Y/N, wait. Let me get changed into something... nicer for you~"

Your hands lingered on her hips, almost not wanting her to leave but a little wink from her left a smirk on your face. You waited patiently, checking your phone for any messages. Momo had just sent some.

Momo 🥰🥰: hey baby~ everything going well?

You: everything’s fine here baby, im back at mina’s

You: how about you? everything alright back at home?

Momo 🥰🥰: mhm

Momo 🥰🥰: just missing my beloved man is all~

Momo 🥰🥰: anyway, im not gonna bother you

Momo 🥰🥰: breed her well okay, baby? im trying to be an auntie here~

You chuckled to yourself.

You: alright baby, ill do my best

Momo 🥰🥰: okay~ get home safe, and if youre still not satisfied, im always open for a breeding~

You blushed hard as the both of you bid farewell. As you put your phone away, you looked up and felt your cock spring out from your undone pants. Mina sauntered in, her tight and fit body adorned in a beautiful feathered–blue jacket and a sexy light blue top and skirt.

Your mouth hung slightly agape as the goddess of a woman entered the room.

"So? How do I look?"

"...I need you so fucking bad."

You leaped up and wrapped your arms around her waist, engaging in a hot makeout once more. You dragged her back onto the couch and adjusted your member so that its tip is perfectly aligned with her slit.

It felt as though you weren’t in control any longer as you impaled her onto your cock, the tip bottoming her out almost immediately. She moaned loudly, arching her back to meet your every thrust. "Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking big~! Just like Momo said you’d be~" she cried out.

You increased your pace, slamming your whole length into her as you showered her upper body with kisses. You began to lick her breasts erratically, it felt like you’d gone insane with lust.

As the intensity increased, Mina’s moans grew louder. "Ahhh, Y/N... you’re making me cream all over your cock," she panted.

You grinned, loving the wetness engulfing your length with each plunge. As you drowned in the sensations, you reached up, fondling her breasts while you ravaged her pussy. Mina arched her back, her heaving chest begging for more as her moans morphed into cries of pleasure.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she groaned, her fingers digging into your shoulders.

You could feel her warm folds begin to quiver around you, a sign that she was nearing her climax. Her walls clenched tight, making you feel like you were the owner of the most sought–after toy.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don’t stop..." Mina pleaded, her nails digging into your flesh as her orgasm claimed her.

Her cunt milked you like a greedy monster, and you couldn’t help but match her rhythm, feeling the familiar tinge of your own impending release.

"Mina, I’m close, baby..." you warned, your voice raspy.

"Knock me up, Y/N..." she cried out, her voice shaking as she looked deep into your eyes, urging you to fill her with your seed.

Your thrusts became more erratic, your hips bucking as you lost all semblance of control. With a loud grunt, you exploded, flooding her insides and filling her with your hot cum.

Mina continued to shake, her orgasm reasserting itself as you spilled your load into her. When your orgasm subsided, you collapsed onto her, panting heavily.

"Holy shit, Mina... you’re... unbelievable..." you said, your breath still catching in your throat.

Mina smiled, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. "Momo said you’d say that."

You began to pull out, admiring the evidence of your defilement on Mina’s thighs. Her hand rested on your abdomen. "Hold on, you didn’t think we were gonna stop after one round did you?"

Mina gazed longingly into your eyes as she pushed her lips against yours in a deep and passionate kiss. "Until further notice... I’m claiming you... You belong to me and Momo now~"

The both of you smirked before Mina broke the kiss, a wicked grin on her face. She readjusted herself as she made you lay back on the couch. Before long, she straddled you again. This time, however, her demeanour was different; she was in full control... Mina was in–charge now. Her hands gripped your shoulders tightly as she lowered herself further onto your cock, her pussy swallowing your whole length once again.

"Ahhh, Y/N, I’m..." her voice quivered as she bounced, her sultry voice pleading for more of your thick shaft. Mina began to ride you, her movements slow but deliberate. Each time she rose, she’d slide almost entirely off you, teasing your tip with her wet entrance.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." Mina’s tone was demanding, taking charge of the situation. She set a relentless pace, her slender thighs gripping your hips, her pelvis rocking back and forth. Her hands rose to her soft breasts, groping and squeezing them desperatrely. You did the same.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don’t stop..." She cried out, her moans deafening within the small apartment. She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours. "THAT’S IT– YOU’RE MINE~"

Mina began to bounce faster, her cries growing louder as the scent of sex began to fill the room. Her hand reached between her legs, rubbing her clit while she rode you. Within minutes, she began to shake, her inner walls clenching you tightly.

"C–CUMMING–! C–Cum with me, Y/N!" Mina begged, her voice trembling.

Your hands gripped her hips. You didn’t think either of you could cum again this quickly, but Mina has shown you her sexual prowess and you just couldn’t hold back your own release anymore, your hips bucking to meet her rhythm. 

Together, you both climaxed, Mina’s orgasm pushing you over the edge. You pumped her full once more, your seed spilling into her as she collapsed on your chest, her hair draped over your face like a veil.

Panting, she whispered into your ear, "You better get used to this, Y/N. Momo and I are going to milk you dry."

"Oh, Mina... What do you think Momo has been doing with me the past few days?" You chuckled, sweat dripping down your forehead. "But hey, I’m not complaining, Mina."

Mina hugged you tightly, her heartbeat syncing with yours. You both remained intertwined, sharing this intimate moment in silence, savoring the afterglow.

She leaned up slightly, her outfit messy but still intact. The way her back arched made you shoot a little cum into her still impaled body.

"One last time?" she asked.

"I can’t say no to you~"

Mina leaned all the way back, your cock still engulfed within her folds. She arched her back a little, pushing her tits upwards. You could see the outline of her ribcage but for some reason, that turned you on that much more.

The both of you were now positioned in this desperate and hungry missionary, you began to drive yourself into her, your thrusts quick and forceful. Mina arched her back, her breasts jiggling with each plunge. She gripped your shoulders tightly, her nails digging into your flesh as her moans grew louder with each thrust.

"Aahh, Y/N, I’m... oh, fuck, Y/N, don’t stop..." Mina panted, her voice almost hoarse from all the screaming.

Your brows furrowed as you gritted your teeth. You’ve grown sexually frustrated. It’s like you couldn’t get enough of this woman. You kept thrusting, your hands reaching forward to squeeze the wonderful pair of mounds in front of you.

You could see a slight bulge on her abdomen form each time you thrusted inwards. Her loud yet sultry moans pushed you forward. You squeezed her hips, your hands gripping tightly on their sides.

"Fuck– Mina– I don’t think I can ever get enough of you– Momo was so right to invite you to join us– FUCK–"

Your own breathing grew ragged as you neared your limit yet again. Mina's sweat–soaked skin glistened under the light, her ribs visible beneath her smooth skin.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she cried out, her words becoming more and more desperate.

Each thrust was now a battle for dominance, both of you vying for control as you forced your bodies to submit to the rhythmic pounding.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don’t stop..." Mina begged, her voice now a mixture of pleading and demanding.

You slammed into her one last time, the sound of your flesh meeting hers echoing in the small room. "That’s it, Mina, squirt for me–" you groaned, your voice hoarse. Mina began to scream out in pure ecstasy and pleasure.

"OH MY GOD– FUCK~ KNOCK ME UP, Y/N– DO IT–!"

Mina's walls convulsed around you, triggering your own orgasm. Together, you both unleashed powerful orgasms. Her cries of ecstasy intermingled with your guttural grunts. Your seed flooded her once more, the heat of your release igniting another wave of pleasure for Mina.

With both of you completely spent, you collapsed onto her, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat dripped from your brows, coating both of your trembling forms.

"God damn, Mina..." you whispered, panting.

Mina smiled, her cheeks flushed from exertion. "I–I’m glad you approve, Y/N."

"Approve? I don’t think I ever wanna be away from you anymore... I guess it’s official, you’ve joined my relationship with Momo."

Both of you stayed entwined, sharing this intimate moment, the room now filled with the scent of sex and the heavy thumping of your heartbeats. After a while, Mina let out a content sigh, her body relaxing beneath you.

A few hours later, you were back at home with your beloved Momo. She could see the look of a man who had just been drained of what is essentially his soul. She playfully called out to you.

"Y/N, baby~ Come and sit with me."

As you waddled over and sat down, she gave you a soft kiss. You reciprocated.

"So, how was it? Looks like you had fun~!"

You nodded.

"Yeah, baby... Uhh, Mina’s gonna join us now... like you and me, us..."

"Mhm! I told her she could, I mean, you didn’t seem to mind when Nayeon was actively touching herself to us..."

"You’re right... I love you so much..."

Momo smiled, knowing she made the right choice, both for herself, for you, and for the both of you combined. Knowing that, you and Momo look forward to whoever else that would be interested in joining your little circle here.

You and Momo shared another sweet and loving kiss as she straddled your lap. Just then, you both heard a knock at the door. You stood up, walked over and opened it. There stood Mina in a white tank top, a tight blue jacket and a short yellow skirt. She presented her phone to you, a message already typed out to who you presumed to be the idol she slept with a while back.

Mina: hey, i dont think we should see each other anymore

Mina: sorry, i found someone better

Your gaze met hers as you brought her in for a passionate kiss. As you did, you brought your finger to the send button and pressed it. As the kiss broke, you brought Mina in to see Momo and the two sat on the couch together and faced you.

"Wait, what’s happening now?"

"You know~"

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[peachysunrize]

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, fluffff fluuuuffff disgustingly sweet lol, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 6k+

A/n: sorry for the delay, I hope this chapter lifts your spirits! Happy reading my loves and reblogs & comments are always appreciated🥹💕

Taglist: it’s closed!

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Chapter 6: a summer worth living

The sound of a notification catches Aemond’s attention. He reaches for his phone on the desk, smiling when he sees your name on his screen.

Clementine: “Need your help with something!”

His smile widens as he types back, scratching behind Vhagar’s ear who sleeps beside him on the library’s couch.

Aemond: “Good morning to you too, darling. How can I help you?”

Clementine: “We saw each other at breakfast! Anyway, you should come upstairs to give me your opinion!”

He chuckles, remembering how hard it was for you not to let anyone notice a thing in the way you walked or interacted with him. Still, Helaena’s sharp eyes took the hints immediately, and without hesitation, she dragged you out of the kitchen with a playful glare at Aemond.

Aemond: “Did not have the chance to wish you a good morning in private, or even kiss you, which is why I’ve started my day on a bad note.”

Clementine: “Oh no, did I neglect you today?🥺 If yes, then you should really come upstairs now! Need your help and most importantly, I can give you your morning kisses.”

Aemond shakes his head as he starts typing again, grinning like an idiot.

Aemond: “I’m busy, darling—“

He doesn’t even have the chance to send the next text when he sees yours, and in an instant, he is up on his feet.

Clementine: “I doubt you’ll like it if I ask Aegon to help me choose which bikini to wear while I’m lying half-naked on my bed.”

Aemond: “I’m coming.”

Clementine: “Good boy.”

Without wasting another second, he walks out of the library, skipping a step or two as he makes his way to your room. His heartbeat rises with each step he takes, even the thought of you half-naked is something that sets his skin on fire but to have you confess it to him? He’s a man possessed.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before, quite the opposite. In fact, ever since your night out on the yacht, he hasn’t been able to keep his hands to himself; always touching, caressing, kissing when no one saw — which Helaena scolds him for.

He knocks on your door, looking at the ends of the hallway to see if anyone is around before you open the door pulling him inside your room by grabbing the collar of his shirt.

His lips are on yours in the blink of an eye, pressing you to your door as he kisses you fiercely, his large palms running up and down your naked sides, his lips moving in sync with yours.

“Good morning, handsome,” You mumble between his kisses, urging him to keep going by pressing his face to yours with a hand through his hair. His fingers skim over your hips as he grips them, squeezing your flesh while his tongue explores your mouth.

“It’s certainly a good one now,” he whispers, trailing his lips from your cheeks to your neck, pressing feather-like kisses all over your skin as you lean your head back on the door, giving more space for him to leave his marks on you. 

“Pool party with Hel?” he asks, raising his face from your neck to look at you.

“Not a party, just relaxing,” you smile when he grabs one of your arms that is wrapped around his neck, starting kissing from your shoulders to your elbows, “besides, Aegon will definitely show up with alcohol and turn it into— Aemond, stop distracting me!” you giggle when he nips at your wrist, kissing your pulse once more before he leans to lock your lips in a searing kiss.

“Mind if I join you? I promise to behave,” he says, letting go of your arm to reach behind you, caressing your waist before his hands inch down slowly, looking at you with a dangerous glint in his good eye.

“Absolutely-fucking-not,” you dodge under his arms, freeing yourself from his grip, and he finally has the chance to actually look at what you are wearing, or what you are not, because coming up to your room and kissing you distracted him from shamelessly eyeing you only in your bra and underwear, “Also, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“This is my house, and I can use the pool whenever I want,” he backs you against your bed, “I’m a man of my word, you’ll learn that soon enough.”

“Hmm, is that right?” You turn around and hold the two bikinis up for him to choose, “red or black?”

“I think I might faint if you don’t wear the black one,” he says, smiling as you nod, pursing your lips as you hug his waist.

“I fear what will happen to you if I wear it,” you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him before reaching to push a few strands of his hair behind his ear.

“I think I’ll drop dead,” he replies, his tone serious and with how he caresses the dip of your back and gazes at you, you know he might just be that serious.

“Aemond,” you pout at him, “I know you’re joking but your death is not funny in any scenario.”

“Alright darling,” he kisses your forehead, squeezing your back, “I won’t talk about it anymore.”

“The fainting though…” you unwrap your arms around him, reaching behind to unclasp your bra, watching his eye drop to your bare chest, “I like that.”

“You fucking tease—“

“Fucking hell!” Helaena screams as she opens the door and closes it immediately, “For fuck sake, can you two please keep it under the fucking radar? I seriously don’t want to see my brother getting giddy with my best friend.”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen my boobs before, idiot,” you reply, grabbing the bikini top before asking Aemond to tie the threads around your neck and back, giggling when he bites your shoulder as you listen to Helaena scold the two of you from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, but I don’t need to see Aemond eating your face like a fish! Lock the door next time, and don’t make me wait! You better not fuck when I leave,” she bangs her fist twice on the door before she leaves, making Aemond groan and drop his head on your shoulder.

“She’s annoying.”

“She helped us, be grateful,” you kiss the side of his head before reaching for the bottom of the bikini on your bed, before changing quickly so Aemond wouldn’t get too handsy with you, “At least she’s not like Aegon, he would probably stick around and listen if we fucked.”

“Why are you so obsessed with bringing up that manwhore every time you get naked?” He teases you, shaking his head as he gives you an overall look, licking his lips at the sight of you in a bikini that has his mind-melting.

“To rile you up,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Aemond on top of you with the collar of his shirt, forcing him to embrace himself on the bed by his forearms.

“Never thought I’d see this side of you,” he bumps his nose to yours, “sweet sweet friend of Helaena who was my sister’s rock in every way… look at you now, naughtier than anyone I know.”

“I doubt you know many girls—Ahh! Stop, Aemond—“

He starts tickling you, pushing your legs apart to stand between them while his fingers pinch your sides.

“That’s the truth, but I know Aegon and you are worse than him.”

“Take that back!” You laugh, hitting his chest as he tries to flip you over on your stomach but you lock your legs around his waist, “no one is near close to Aegon when it comes to sex.”

“Yeah, you’re right—“

“Now, let me go and distract your sister from what she saw earlier, and you, my handsome handsome nerd,” you give him a sweet kiss on the lips, “should go and put on your switruck and join us by the pool.”

“Deal.”

•••••

Aemond walks out of the house towards the outdoor pool, finding you and Helaena already on the sun loungers while Dreamfyre chases Vhagar, barking and jumping on her with delight. He approaches you, his towel dropped on his shoulder as he sits on the edge of your lounge before he reaches and grabs the back of his shirt, pulling the fabric off with one arm.

“Ew, fuck off,” Helaena groans, looking at how Aemond puts up a show for you, and you do not stare away from him while he is topless and braiding his hair quickly, “You’re disgusting!”

”Oh, please shut up,” you whisper, watching Aemond kissing your knee gently before he walks to the edge of the pool and dives in, splashing water everywhere, “Fuck me.”

“What a showoff!” Helaena throws her book at you, pulling you out of your thoughts, glaring at you with her huge eyes, “You are a totally different person around him! That’s disgusting, stop eye-fucking my brother.”

“I wasn’t!” You hiss at her, pursing your lips together as you meet her eyes, “he’s just…hot, okay?”

“Definitely not okay, dumbass! I don’t want to hear anything but my brother’s sex life, alright?”

“Why? He is so tall and so so big—“ 

“Fuck off!” She screams and makes a gagging sound, and you laugh in return, watching her face twist in deep disgust, “Where are those two?”

“I don’t know but I hope they get here soon, I’m so thirsty,” you exclaim, chuckling when Vhagar jumps on your lounge, crawling her way up to your lap to just lay there and bask under the sunlight with you, “hello, old lady.”

“YOU STARTED WITHOUT ME?” Aegon’s screech fills the air as he walks with a pout, a cooler in one hand as he joins you and Hel with Daeron, glaring at Aemond who keeps swimming, not really paying attention to his older brother.

“We had no choice, sweetheart,” Helaena says, making room for Aegon and Daeron to sit and bring out the beers.

“Shouldn’t we call Aemond?” You ask, thanking Daeron who hands you a cold bottle of beer, “he might be thirsty too, right?”

“Babe,” Helaena gives you a look that makes you shudder to your bones, “Don’t.”

You nod, because the glare she sends you is probably able to kill you on the spot. You sip on your drink, watching Aemond swim from one side of the pool to the other, his tall frame moving under the water.

“Time for some music!” Daeron announces, pulling out his phone while Aegon takes off his shirt and hands his bottle to Hel before he joins Aemond in the water.

You watch Aemond swim to the edge of the pool, his braided hair wet and dripping as he leans on his forearms, his eye finding yours pretty quickly.

He watches closely as you take a deep breath. He rests his palms on the mosaics and pulls himself out of the pool, sitting on the edge with his legs in the cold water. Aemond no longer looks at you, but his smile widens when he sees your shadow looming over him as you sit beside him, handing him his beer with a shaky exhale.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, crossing one of your legs over the other when he takes a long sip from his beer, his wet hair shining under the blazing sunlight and his throat bobbing as he swallows the drink, “Do you want to kill me or what?”

“Consider this a payback for the little stunt you pulled earlier,” he smirks, running his fingers through his hair, messing up his braid even more, “I had no idea I would have such an effect on you though.”

“Right, you had no idea,” you hiss, rolling your eyes at him playfully, “That’s why you are acting like a supermodel in a shampoo ad in front of me.”

“Shampoo ad? I’m offended,” He whispers, “I thought I was quite clear with what I wanted to do.”

“If making me wet in front of your siblings was your plan, then it worked,” you take a swig from the beer, shaking your head when you see his smug face, “Don’t you fucking dare, Aemond.”

“What? Can I not admire my girl?” He leans back on his elbows, making it harder for you to keep looking at his face while his abs are fully displayed.

“Well, you are making it quite hard for me to keep my cool. Sit up, or else I will break your bones.”

“You gonna jump on me now?” He sits up and leans on the plam he puts right behind your ass, leaning down to whisper, “But you’ll make a scene… or maybe you want them to see, huh?”

“I’m gonna kill you—”

“Holy shit, Mum?”

You and Aemond turn around immediately, finding Alicent coming to join you by the pool with her auburn hair falling around her shoulders, her sunglasses resting atop his head while she walks toward the empty lounge only in her swimsuit.

“What now? I can’t enjoy a good day in my own pool?”

“Of course, but—” “You have never worn a swimsuit before,” Aegon finishes Helaena’s sentence. 

“Everything has a first time,” she exhales, turning around to find Cole looking away immediately from her, clearing his throat as he guards the door to the house before she looks back at all of you, “Can you stop looking at me like I have grown another head? It’s summer and I wanna spend some time with my children before they leave again.”

“I’m gonna ask you something and I want the truth,” Aemond nods and helps you on your feet, “Does Cole… have feelings for your mum?” “Yup,” he guides you by his palm on your waist, joining the group, “I don’t think they have done anything other than probably talking to each other but you can feel how happier Mum is around him.”

“That’s…unexpected but really cool,” you reply, “What if they fucked—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he pinches your side before he distances himself from you, standing next to his mother, “How are you doing, Mum?”

“Amazing! Now come on, what are you demons up to?” Alicent asks, ruffling Daeron’s head a little before she sits beside him.

“Muuuuum I’m twenty-one! You gotta stop doing that!” Daeron pouts, and pops a beer for his mother, handing her the cold beverage.

“You are no fun,” she does it again, to which Daeron tries to act as if he hates it, “anyway, what are you going to do? And please spare me the dirty jokes, Aegon, and let’s do something fun.”

“Sunbathing?” Aegon suggests, laying head on Helaena’s lap.

“Nah, Aemond will burn so bad,” Helaena laughs as soon as Alicent says, and you try to stifle your giggles but Aemond’s glare only makes you burst out laughing.

“How bad?” You ask.

“So bad! Once we went to an aqua park, and I am not kidding when I said he looked so red when we were driving back! His whole body was burnt, and he doesn’t get tanned, he burns!”

“Mother, please,” he shakes his head and walks to an empty lounge, resting his head on his arm, “anything but sunbathing.”

“Oh, I know I know!” Daeron finishes his beer before he talks, “Pool Volleyball? Yeah? Girls vs boys?”

“Come on, take it easy on Aegon, Hel will eat him alive,” you shrug as you say and watch Aegon whip his head in your direction.

“You're counting me among the girls?” He looks at you, wide-eyed and blushing, “How dare you?”

“You said your tits are nicer than mine.”

“You said what?” Alicent asks, wiggling her eyebrows at Aegon who just grins at her before he stands up and pulls his t-shirt off, “these are definitely nicer than hers.”

“You’re just sour that you don’t carry a vagina around with you all the time,” you pat his shoulder before putting your beer on the table between the lounges, bending down a bit in front of Aemond, giving him a good view of your cleavage.

“Fucking tease,” Aemond whispers and sits up immediately, looking at Aegon to wipe the image of your body from his head before you get him in trouble, “we don’t have a net, how are we going to play?”

“You know what? Forget the game, let’s go inside and order something for lunch.”

“You sure, Ali?” You ask, earning a kiss on your forehead from Alicent before she nods.

“Absolutely, come on, ducklings.”

“Yes, Mama Duck,” Aegon and Daeron follow her inside the house, leaving Helaena alone with you.

“I’m gonna leave,” she stands and points at you two, “you better not do it here, and clean up this mess. A payback for this morning.”

“What do you take us for? Horny teens?” You ask, but Aemond proves her wrong immediately, standing up from the lounge to wrap his arms around your waist, “Aemond—“

“That’s exactly what I mean! Urgh, you guys need to get a fucking room!” Helaena sneers, leaning forward to press a kiss on your cheek before flocking Aemond’s forehead and leaving you alone.

“Come,” Aemond kisses your shoulder before intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you behind him towards the end of the pool, helping you up a few stairs that lead to the jacuzzi hidden from the house’s view.

“Hmm, this is nice,” you lower yourself in the warm water, leaning your head back as you watch Aemond do the same, sighing as his muscles relax instantly.

“How are you feeling, beautiful?” He asks, pulling you closer by snaking his arm around your waist, guiding you so you are perched across his lap, “I’ve missed you.”

“We haven’t been apart even for one minute,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, “How is it that you miss me so much, Little nerd?”

“I don’t know, maybe I like you a lot,” he shrugs, kissing the side of your head while his large palm glides across your thighs under the water.

“Uh huh, no funny business in the jacuzzi, mister,” you kiss the corner of his lips, smiling when he squeezes your flesh before he brings his lips down to yours, tasting the beer off your tongue.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he whispers against you, pecking your lips and cheeks, keeping you close to him while you scratch the back of his neck.

“Good, that’s exactly what I want,” you bite his lower lip, making him groan in response, “Now let’s go, I’m sure your Mum is looking for us.”

“I don’t wanna leave!” He whines but follows you as you grab his hand and step out of the water, and he ogles at your back, his eye trailing over your ass in the bikini, “I need to get away from you as soon as possible or I’ll bend you over the nearest surface and—“

“Good thing I’m gonna let go of your hand because Daeron is coming out of the house,” you whisper before you turn around and shoot him a teasing smile, looking back at Daeron and waving at him.

“What did I get myself into?”

•••••••••

Aemond sighs, pushing the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he keeps reading his book under the dim light of his lamp, lying on top of his cold bed sheets.

He looks up when he hears his door knob twisting, finding you peeking through the door at him before you ask quietly if you can come in which he of course says yes.

“Hi,” you say, leaning back on the door, looking at him shyly, and he takes his time to look at what you are wearing; a short silky nightdress that falls on your upper thighs, the straps of it falling down from your shoulders.

“Hey you,” he closes his book and puts it on the nightstand before he extends his hand for you to come and take it, “why are you up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply, padding across the room until you reach his bed, crawling on top of him, straddling him gently, “You?”

“I like reading in the dark,” he explains, his surprisingly soft palms caressing your exposed thighs gently, making you rest your hands on his bare chest.

“So that’s where the glasses come from,” you tease him, “I had no idea you owned plaid pajamas.”

“What can I say? Aegon bought them for me as a souvenir from Dorne,” he scoffs, letting his hands wander under the silk fabric of your dress, running his fingers up and down on your heated skin, “He has quite the questionable taste.”

“I like them,” you tell him, leaning down to kiss his cheeks, your fingers also tracing the muscles of his chest, grazing your nails against his neck, “They suit you.”

“Yeah? Well then, I’ll wear them more often,” he turns his head, pressing his lips to yours gently, kissing you softly while one of his hands comes up to hold you close to him by the back of your neck, “What are you really doing here, hmm?”

“Well… you see…” you whisper, trailing your kisses from his lips to his ear, biting on his earlobe, “Seeing my boyfriend all wet and dripping had me feeling things…”

“Boyfriend, huh? Tell me more, darling,” he throws his head back, giving you enough space to kiss down his neck, sucking a little mark on the skin of his throat.

The blood rushes to his cock as soon as you start grinding your hips down, your clothed cunt rubbing against the bulge in his pants as you nibble on his collarbone, licking the line of his bone before you look up at him, grinning softly.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he says, his hands going down to your hips to rock you against his now fully hard cock, groaning when you lean down to take his nipple into your mouth, biting and sucking on the bud feverishly.

“You’ve said it twice today. You must be going nuts then.”

“If you don’t ride me now, I won’t be responsible for what I’ll do to you,” he sighs, already breathless and empty-headed, “I will fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow.”

“Save it for another time, baby,” you sit upward, pressing yourself completely down on his covered cock to pull down your nightdress enough for your boobs to be exposed before sitting up on your knees, reaching beneath his pajamas to pull his cock out, “I need to feel you tonight.”

“Take what you need, darling—fuck…” you both sigh in delight when you press his tip to your entrance, bracing yourself with one hand on his chest while the other guides him further into you until you slowly sit on him, taking his full length inside you.

“Aemond,” you moan as you start to grind your hips down, gently rolling them in circles in a way that has Aemond digging his nails into your flesh.

“There you go, beautiful, that’s right,” he spreads his legs more, his silver hair framing his face like rays of moonlight while you gaze down at him, watching his face morph into a hazy smile, “You’re unreal.”

“So are you, you should see yourself,” you gasp as you start to slowly move up and down his length, his cock nudging the deep spots inside you deliciously. Nothing is rushed or impatient, you are taking your time with how you ride him, how you memorize his face twist in pleasure.

“There is my girl,” he whispers when you start bouncing a bit faster, gasping and moaning his name while you close your eyes and get lost in the pleasure, “I know you’re close, darling. Give it to me, yeah, come on.”

“A-Aemond, fuck,” you grab on the headboard with both hands as the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you gets more intense, “I- I need more, please—“

“I know, I know,” he looks up at you as if you are a goddess sent from heaven to him, and for him to please you, so he reaches down and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, “There you go, beautiful, anything for you.”

You down say anything, your moans, gasps and the way you tightly clench around Aemond is enough to set both of your skins ablaze. You fall on his chest and he wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you close to him while he starts snapping his hips up to yours, burying his face into your neck while he drives you both closer to your breaking point.

He breaks first, pulling out quickly, but you stop him before he has the chance to stroke himself and sit on his cock, rubbing your clit to his throbbing member as he twitches underneath you.

“Fuck, darling, I’m gonna—“

“Me too, please— I-I— fuck, Aemond!”

You come together; you gush on his cock while he pulsates and comes on his stomach, ropes of his come covering his body and your wetness dripping on his waist as you shake on top of him.

As soon as you both calm down, he sits up against the headboard and kisses your forehead, pushing a few sweaty strands of your hair out of your face before he leans down and locks your lips with his.

“You made a mess on me,” he chuckles and you bashfully bat your eyes at him before dropping your head on his shoulder, “Don’t sleep on me now, let’s clean up then we can cuddle, yeah?”

••••••••

“Wake up, lovers!” Helaena bangs on Aemond’s door, “it’s way past noon! Come on, wake the fuck up!”

“Your sister hates us I swear,” you groan as you hide your face into Aemond’s neck, tightening your arms around him so he doesn’t leave the bed, “Fuck off, Hel!”

“Nope, I’m coming in, and you better have some clothes on,” she pushes the door open, hands on her hips as she glares at you two, “Up, now! Aegon’s generosity is at its peak and we should take advantage of that. He says he wants to take us for an ice cream date but I’m sure he just wants to hit on the sexy girls who work there.”

“You guys go, we don’t wanna come,” you say, your words muffled by Aemond’s shoulder but when you feel he pulls away a bit, you whine and tuck him closer, “No…”

“Babe, come on! Don’t whine, we’ll have so much fun! Also, Daeron said he had a surprise for us!” Helaena pleads, and you feel Aemond sit up completely.

“Fine,” he groans before he leans down to peck your cheek, “Come on, darling, get up. We’ll drive in my car, yeah? Just the two of us.”

“Fine, fine! I’m up!” You get up but pout at both of them before you give Aemond a quick kiss and leave him alone when Helaena pulls you behind her so you both go to get dressed.

Aemond smiles when you blow him a kiss with your sleepy face and bedhead, sighing when Helaena shuts the door and gives him some time to dress before you come to collect him.

He gets ready quickly, and meets you and Hel at the entrance of the house, smirking when he finds you wearing yet another sundress Helaena has gifted you for no reason. It seems he is not the only one who likes to see you in their belongings — technically, your dress isn’t hers, but the gesture is.

“Ladies,” he nods and you both smile at him. Helaena takes the chance to slip between you both before Aemond can get his hands on you.

“You wanna keep this a secret, better watch yourself around Daeron’s sharp eyes. He’ll go straight to Mum if he finds out.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighs in defeat and looks at you with an apologetic smile, only to be met with your reassuring expression.

“It’s okay, Aemond, don’t worry about it,” you reach around Hel to squeeze his shoulder, telling him it will be alright and that you understand him.

“Finally! Come on, we gotta head to the nearest town and buy a few things before Daeron takes us to his—“

“Shut the fuck up, you gonna spoil my surprise!” Daeron groans in annoyance before he looks at you three, “We’ll get ice cream, then we’ll run some errands and after that, I will help you make a core memory!”

“Sounds fun,” you say, and Aemond nods in response before he walks towards the parking, unlocking his BMW, but he stops and turns around, asking who would like to drive with him.

“I’ll go, I can’t stand Aegon’s playlists,” you say, and walk to Aemond, ignoring Aegon’s protests about how good his songs are, “Come on, let’s go!”

“Yes, princess,” Aemond bows sarcastically before he sits on the driver’s side and starts the engine

“Stop giving me attitude, Aemond Targaryen,” you glare at him playfully, buckling your seatbelt before he drives out of the parking lot, Aegon following you closely with his car.

“Or what?” He taunts you, waiting to see what exactly you have up your sleeve.

“Or I’ll fix it for you,” you do not back down from the challenge, and knowing him, you know he won’t either, “Careful, I can be mean if I want to.”

“Oh, yeah? By all means, be my guest,” he smirks and you smirk back, watching how the afternoon sunlight shines on his face, his hair floating in the air as he eases off the car.

Aemond parks the car in front of a little caf after Aegon, and you step out of the car, Helaena and Daeron joining you both as the group walks inside — and as Helaena said earlier, Aegon starts flirting immediately.

The girl Aegon was talking to takes your orders and you all sit around a table and start talking until Aemond stands up to help Aegon bring your ice cream.

“So, why are we going grocery shopping? Are you taking us for a trip?” You ask, sitting snugly against Aemond, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders unconsciously, making Helaena clear his throat.

“Oh, come on! Everyone knows these two are a thing!” Daeron says, shrugging when Helaena gasps, “I thought everyone knew!”

“You just found out?” Aegon asks, licking his ice cream before he starts talking with a full mouth, “Our brother is not as subtle as he thinks.”

“Fuck off,” Aemond rolls his eye but doesn’t take his arm off of you, “At least I have a girlfriend and you don’t.”

“See! I knew it! Come on, gimme my money!” Aegon stretches his hand out to Daeron, wiggling his fingers as he waits for him to give him his money, “And what do you mean, bro? I am drowning in pussy. You think there’s a day that goes by and I don’t have a pretty girl sitting on my face?”

“I seriously don’t think he wants to hear about your amazing sex life, Aeg,” you say, leaning your head on Aemond’s shoulder, your eyes meeting Helaena’s and she matches your growing smile — now that you know that everyone knows about you and Aemond you can easily let go.

“Hold this conversation, my phone is ringing,” Daeron answers the call, “Hi sir! Yeah, yeah, we’ll be there today. Oh? Are you absolutely sure? That’s perfect… yes yes we will be there in half an hour!”

“Who was it?” Hel asks, finishing off her ice cream before she wipes her hands with the tissue, “It better not be dangerous, Daeron.”

“Easy, sis,” he pats his sister’s shoulder, “We no longer need to go shopping! We can drive straight to our destination!”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, Aegon, I’m sure. Come on! We should go and come back before the sun’s gone!” And with Daeron’s cue, you are all up and heading towards the cars, and Aemond takes this chance to thread his fingers through yours, blushing a little when Aegon whistles and acts like a total jerk.

“Ignore him, baby,” you bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles, “And don’t worry, I’m sure Hel is telling them to keep their mouths shut and don’t tell anything to your Mum.”

“I hope so,” he smiles and returns the gesture, kissing your forehead before he opens the passenger door for you, and heading towards his own seat. 

Aegon drives to the wharf Aemond took you once, and you both share an amused smile as you look at the road. 

Spending such quality time with you is… unusual to Aemond. It feels domestic, so… natural and beautiful. Something he’s been craving since he remembers. This familiar warmth spreads in his chest again whenever he glances at you, melting under the slow little touches you give him as you play with the nape of his head, massaging his neck with one hand.

“Are we going to go on the yacht you took me to?” You ask, jumping out of the car, and watching Aemond putting his sunglasses on before his hand automatically reaches for you.

“Nope, that’s why he said it’ll be a core memory,” he replies and you join the trio, “So, are you gonna take us there or what?”

“Stop being impatient, pirate!” Aegon says, “We’re going there, okay? Daeron needs to talk to the captain first.”

“Okay, guys! I’m gonna take you on a one-hour tour of this beautiful Bay! Now, follow me!” Daeron explains as he waves off the captain, and you go with the Targaryens towards his boat, “Board on safely!”

He is the first to jump on his bowrider boat, helping Hel and Aegon next, leaving you in Aemond’s capable hands.

“You guys already have a family yacht, why do you have a personal boat too? And why am I just finding out about all of these? It’s like I’ve just met you guys,” You say and thank Aemond when he helps you in, steading you on your feet with his hands on your waist.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yes,” you kiss his cheek and drag him towards the empty seat next to Helaena, finding Aegon fiddling with bags of snacks on the floor of the boat.

“You see,” Daeron chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his head, “We have an uncle—“

“We have two but go on.”

“As if I don’t already know,” he glares at Aegon, “but, Uncle Gwayne is pretty generous with how he spends the very large amount of useless money he has.”

“Daeron is his favorite,” Aemond whispers, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear, and his statement gets a good few nods and laughs from Aegon and Helaena.

“I am not!” But he soon takes it back, “Fine, okay, I basically grew up with him! One time, he took me on this boat trip with our other relatives and it was super fun! He kind of noticed how much I loved it and bought me this out of the fucking blue!”

“Wow, does your uncle also take wishlists? I would love to own a Rolls Royce, you know?”

“I can buy it for you,” Aemond says, looking into your eyes dead serious, “I have the money.”

“I was joking…” you chuckle, cupping his face into your hands, “For real?”

“Yeah, anything. Name it and it’s yours,” he shrugs as if he didn’t just tell you he would spend countless dollars on you just because you wished for a car. 

“It’s really fun to have a hot billionaire boyfriend, you should try it,” you tell Helaena, still in shock at how easily Aemond is ready to just… give you what you want.

“Okay, stop being so lovey-dovey with my brother, and you kid, show us a good time!” Helaena rolls her eyes playfully at you as she talks to Daeron.

This has to be the best evening you’ve ever experienced; it’s filled with laughter and music, Aegon throwing you in the water, Aemond playing the savior, and getting you on the boat after he pushes Aegon in the water for the payback.

It is perfect.

[mononijikayu]

drunk tonight — ryomen sukuna.

"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations. His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion you’re experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, toxic romance, hurt/no comfort, break up, fighting, crying, hurt, physical touch, sexual content, sadness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depictions of toxic relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of fighting, depiction of sexual content, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of sexual context, mention of loneliness, toxic ex-boyfriend! sukuna, long suffering ex-girlfriend! reader;

WORD COUNT: 9.4k words

NOTE: the thought bubble says "yes, we can." and "because i love you. and you love me."; i wrote this a while back but i was waiting for the poll to end. but if sukuna wins, then he definitely has his stuff posted first. somehow, sukuna always wins my polls 😆😆😆 anyway, i hope you love this one too!!! i love you all 🫶🫶🫶

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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YOU DON’T WANT TO ANSWER THE PHONE. Late at night, your phone buzzes, its vibration cutting through the silence like a knife. You glance at the screen, feeling a chill run down your spine as you recognize the number. It’s a number you know all too well, one that you’ve tried to erase from your mind but could never quite forget, no matter how hard you tried.

A sigh escapes your lips, your heart sinking as Sukuna’s name flashes across the screen. It’s a name that once brought you comfort, excitement, even love. But now, it’s just a reminder of everything that went wrong, of the hurt and the scars that never fully healed.

You’ve blocked him on everything—social media, messaging apps, even email. You thought you had cut off every possible avenue for him to reach you, but he always remembered your phone number. 

He was always good at that—memorizing details, knowing exactly how to reach you when you least wanted him to. It was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, his ability to know you so well, to be so in tune with you. But now, it’s a curse, a reminder that no matter how far you try to run, he can always find you.

The text is a mess of jumbled letters and half-formed words, the kind of message that only makes sense to the sender. You can almost hear his deep, slurred voice in your head as you read it, the way he used to talk when he was too far gone, too deep into the bottle. He’s drunk, that much is obvious, and the thought makes your stomach churn.

You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. There’s nothing worse than a drunk ex-text. It’s a toxic mix of emotions—regret, anger, longing—all wrapped up in a few poorly typed words. You know how this goes, how the night will unravel if you let it. 

He’ll keep texting, maybe even call, and each message will be more desperate, more incoherent than the last. He’ll say things he doesn’t mean, make promises he can’t keep, and you’ll be left holding the pieces of a conversation that never should have happened.

For a moment, you consider ignoring it, just turning off your phone and pretending you never saw it. But you know that won’t make it go away. You know that as long as Sukuna has your number, as long as he has a way to reach you, this cycle will keep repeating itself.

You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the screen. You could respond, tell him to stop, to leave you alone once and for all. But part of you knows that won’t work either. You’ve told him before, and yet here you are, staring at another late-night message from the man you once loved.

Your thumb hovers over the message, the words blurring in your tired eyes. You want to be strong, to resist the pull of old emotions and familiar patterns. But there’s a part of you that’s still connected to him, a part that wants to reach out, to understand why he can’t just let you go.

But you know better. You’ve been down this road too many times before. And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like tearing a piece of your heart out, you know what you have to do. With a sigh, you delete the message, your chest tightening as you do. You close your eyes, trying to block out the guilt, the sadness, the tiny voice in your head that says maybe this time will be different. But you know it won’t. It never is.

You can’t even muster the energy to be angry. It’s all too familiar, the cycle of hurt and regret that you both keep getting sucked into. You start typing back, your fingers trembling slightly with the weight of it all.

“Sukuna, stop. Wherever you are, just stop.” You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the screen. But you need to say this—you need to finally put it to rest. “This hurts, all of it. It’s a mess, and we’ve broken up. You need to stop chasing after me. We can’t go back.”

There’s a long pause. You wonder if he’ll leave it at that, but another text pings through.

“I can’t… I can’t live with this without trying. Please…”

You swallow hard, feeling the ache in your chest, but you’ve made up your mind. This is a wound that needs to heal, and reopening it will only make it worse.

“Sukuna, I’m done. You need to be, too.” You send the message, and this time, you turn off your phone. The silence that follows is almost deafening, but it’s the first step towards finally moving on.

You purse your lips, staring at the screen as his last message burns into your mind. You know he’s just too drunk tonight. He doesn’t really want you back—not the way he thinks he does. He’s just broken inside, sad and high, and you can feel the weight of his loneliness pressing through the words.

A lump forms in your throat as the urge to cry wells up again. It hurts because deep down, you know the truth. He doesn’t want you back. He’s just lonely, aching for something familiar to fill the void. You’ve been there before, reaching out in desperation, hoping for comfort in the arms of someone who used to mean everything. But that was then, and this is now.

You type slowly, forcing yourself to keep going, even though each word feels like a knife twisting deeper into your heart. "Sukuna, you’re not really after me. You’re just lonely and sad, and I get that. But this… us… it’s over. We ended things for a reason."

Your fingers hesitate over the next part, but you push through the pain. "We hurt each other too much. I didn’t want to be with you anymore because all we did was tear each other apart. And I don’t want that for either of us."

You take a shaky breath, knowing what you need to say, even if it feels like ripping off a bandage from a wound that hasn’t fully healed. "So put down the phone, Sukuna. It’s time to go home. You’re just drunk tonight.”

You hit send, and the tears that you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You’ve been strong for so long, but tonight, in the quiet of your room, you allow yourself to feel the full weight of everything you’ve lost and everything you’ve chosen to leave behind.

You ended things because you knew it was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier. And even though you’re telling him to move on, a part of you is whispering the same words to yourself. It’s time to let go, for real this time. It’s time to heal, even if that means facing the pain head-on and accepting that some things can never be fixed.

Your phone rings, and your heart sinks as you see his name flashing across the screen. You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the decline button. You know you shouldn’t answer, know that nothing good can come from this. But some part of you—maybe out of concern, maybe out of habit—hits the green button.

“Sukuna, don’t—”

“I’m on my way.” he interrupts, his voice slurred but filled with a determination that chills you. “I need to see you. We need to talk.”

Your stomach drops, and a sense of dread washes over you. “No, Sukuna. Don’t do this. You’re not thinking straight.”

There’s a pause on the other end, a brief silence where you can hear him breathing heavily, as if he’s fighting to keep his composure. “I have to see you.” he repeats, softer this time, almost pleading. “Please. I…..I want to see you. I wanna…I wanna be with you.”

“Sukuna, please.” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re drunk, you’re not yourself. Turn around and go home. You’re only going to make this harder—for both of us.”

“I don’t care.” he snaps, and you can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. A desperation that’s never been there before. “I can’t keep living like this, pretending I don’t need you. I’ll be there soon.”

Panic starts to set in. You feel trapped, knowing that no amount of reasoning will get through to him tonight. “Sukuna, if you show up here, I won’t open the door. I mean it.”

There’s a harsh laugh on the other end. “You will. You always do.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut because they’re true, or at least they were. You can’t deny the history between you two, the countless times you’ve stood at the edge of this same precipice, teetering between resolve and surrender. 

How many times had you given in, opened the door, and let him back into your life, even when every fiber of your being screamed that you shouldn’t? You’ve lost count, the memories blurring together into a painful montage of late-night confessions, tearful apologies, and broken promises.

Each time, you told yourself it would be the last. You would stand firm, hold your ground, and finally cut the ties that bound you to him. But then he would show up—vulnerable, raw, and desperate—and the walls you had so carefully constructed would crumble in an instant. 

He knew exactly how to reach you, how to twist the knife just enough to remind you of what you once had, what you once were. And for a fleeting moment, you’d believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

But they never were. The darkness that surrounded him, that clung to your relationship like a shroud, always found a way to seep back in. It would start slowly—a harsh word here, a lingering silence there—but soon, it would consume you both, dragging you back into a toxic cycle of pain and regret. Each time you let him back in, you lost a little more of yourself, a little more of the light that once defined who you were.

But you can’t do that anymore. You can’t keep losing pieces of yourself to a love that no longer serves you, to a relationship that has long since become a shadow of what it once was. You’ve fought too hard to reclaim your life, to step out of the darkness and into the light of something better, something healthier. You’ve built yourself back up, brick by brick, and you can’t let him tear it all down again.

This time, it has to be different. This time, you can’t open the door, no matter how much he begs, no matter how much it hurts to turn him away. You can’t let him drag you back into the darkness that you fought so hard to escape. You deserve more—more than late-night texts filled with empty promises, more than a love that only thrives in the shadows. You deserve peace, stability, and a future that isn’t haunted by the ghosts of a past you can’t change.

So you take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the familiar pull of his words, the seductive lure of what could have been. You remind yourself of the pain, the nights spent crying, the days filled with anxiety and doubt. You remind yourself that you’ve survived without him, that you’ve thrived in ways you never could have imagined when you were still caught in his web.

And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like a betrayal of everything you once held dear, you know that you have to let him go. You have to close the door, lock it, and walk away—this time for good. Because if you don’t, you’ll never truly be free. And freedom, you realize, is worth more than any fleeting moment of comfort he could offer. You can’t let him pull you back into the darkness. You’ve come too far, and it’s time to finally step into the light.

“No, I won’t.” you say, forcing steel into your voice. “Not this time. If you care about me at all, you’ll turn around and go home. You’ll stop this before it gets worse.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you think maybe, just maybe, he’ll listen. But then he speaks again, his voice rough and broken. “I’m almost there. Just… wait for me.”

Your heart is racing now, your mind scrambling for what to do. “Sukuna, if you come here, I’ll call the police. I’m serious.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, and then, finally, silence. You think he’s hung up, but then he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything. But I have to try.”

He hangs up before you can respond, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone with your heart pounding in your chest. You feel sick, torn between the history you share and the need to protect yourself from the man he’s become.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You don’t want to call the police, don’t want to escalate things that far, but you need to be ready. You need to stay strong, for your own sake.

With trembling hands, you lock your door, turn off the lights, and sit down on the edge of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand. You wait, praying that he’ll turn around, that he’ll finally realize that what you had is gone, and it’s time to let it go. But deep down, you know this isn’t over—not tonight, not until he’s standing at your door, and you’re forced to make the hardest decision of your life.

The minutes tick by slowly, each one heavier than the last. You sit in the dark, your breath shallow and your nerves frayed, listening for any sound that might signal his arrival. Every car that passes by your window makes your heart jump, your mind conjuring images of him stumbling out, determined and reckless.

You think back to the times when things were good between you two, when his intensity was something you admired, even loved. But that intensity had turned into something else, something darker and more destructive, and you couldn’t let it consume you both any longer.

Your phone vibrates again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Another message from Sukuna:

“I’m here.”

You freeze, your blood running cold. He’s close, maybe right outside. You stand up slowly, moving toward the window with a mix of dread and resolve. Peering through the curtains, you see his figure in the dim light, leaning against a lamppost across the street, his silhouette unmistakable.

He looks up, and even from this distance, you can see the torment in his eyes, the way his shoulders sag with the weight of whatever he’s carrying. But you can’t let that sway you. You’ve made your choice, and you need to stand by it.

Your phone vibrates again, the familiar buzz sending a jolt through your already frayed nerves. You don’t even need to look at the screen to know it’s him. The notification hangs in the air like a weight, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

With a trembling hand, you unlock your phone, the brightness of the screen almost blinding in the darkness of your room. His message is there, short and desperate, the words filled with a plea that you’ve heard too many times before:

“Please, just open the door. We can talk, I swear. I won’t make a scene.”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm, to keep the tears at bay. His voice echoes in your mind, the deep, gravelly tone that once brought you comfort now only serves to break you down. You can almost picture him on the other side of that door, his eyes wide with that familiar mix of anger and sadness, his posture tense with anticipation. He’s close, so close that you can feel his presence like a shadow creeping over your heart.

It would be so easy to give in, to let him in one more time, to listen to whatever promises he has prepared for tonight. After all, you’ve done it before—opened that door despite knowing it would lead to nothing but more heartache. But tonight feels different. Tonight, there’s a finality in the air, a sense that if you open that door now, it won’t just be another mistake; it will be the last one, the one that shatters whatever remnants of strength you’ve managed to hold onto.

You swallow hard, your throat tight with the urge to cry. You know him too well; you know he won’t leave unless you confront him, unless you face him head-on. He’s stubborn like that, relentless in his pursuit of what he wants, even when it’s something—or someone—that’s no longer his to claim. 

But you also know, deep in your bones, that opening that door is the last thing you should do. It’s a line you can’t cross, not this time. Because if you do, you’ll be dragged right back into the storm you’ve fought so hard to escape. You’ll be pulled into his orbit, where everything is chaotic and intense, where love and pain are intertwined so tightly that you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

You take a shaky breath, your hand hovering over the door handle as your mind races. What could he possibly say that he hasn’t already said? What could he promise that he hasn’t already broken? The answers are clear, but the pull of the past is strong, and it tugs at you with a force that’s hard to resist.

But you have to resist. You have to stay strong, for your own sake. Because you know that once you open that door, once you let him back in, all the progress you’ve made, all the nights you’ve spent rebuilding yourself, will be undone. You’ll be right back where you started—lost, hurt, and wondering why you ever let him back into your life.

Your heart aches with the weight of it all, but you know what you have to do. You know that tonight, you have to choose yourself, even if it means walking away from someone you once loved with every part of your being. 

So you close your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe through the pain, to let it wash over you without letting it consume you. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you fight back the urge to cry, to scream, to throw open that door and let everything unravel.

But you don’t. You stay where you are, standing firm in the decision you’ve made. Because tonight, for the first time in a long time, you’re choosing to protect your heart instead of breaking it all over again.

You steady your breathing, forcing yourself to stay calm as the reality of the situation sinks in. Each vibration of your phone feels like a pulse of pain, a reminder of the emotional battleground you’re standing on. You know that answering the door would only open the floodgates, allowing the turmoil and chaos of the past to flood back into your life. You’ve fought so hard to reclaim your peace, and you refuse to let it slip away now.

With a deep breath, you take a moment to center yourself. You remind yourself of the reasons you’ve decided to cut ties, the countless times you’ve faced heartache, and the strength it took to rebuild your life. This decision, though painful, is a necessary step to ensure you don’t lose everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve.

You get up and move to your front door, standing just a few inches away. The cold, unyielding surface feels like a barrier between you and the chaos you’ve left behind. You listen for any sounds—footsteps, a knock—but the night is eerily quiet, punctuated only by the occasional rumble of distant traffic. It’s as if the world itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to make the choice that will define this moment.

Another message from Sukuna pings through, and you resist the urge to check it. Instead, you focus on the decision at hand, the choice you’ve already made. You know that the best way to move forward is to keep the past where it belongs—behind you.

You glance at your phone once more and see that Sukuna has called you again. Your heart races, but you refuse to answer. You let the call go to voicemail, the familiar chime sounding distant and detached. Each unanswered call is a step towards reclaiming your autonomy, towards making it clear that you will not be dragged back into the emotional mess that has defined your relationship.

The minutes tick by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, there’s silence—no more texts, no more calls. You take a deep breath, letting the calm settle over you. You feel the weight of your decision settle into your bones, a mixture of relief and sorrow. You’ve chosen to protect yourself, to preserve the hard-earned peace you’ve fought for.

As you turn away from the door, you feel a mixture of sadness and strength. The pain of seeing Sukuna’s name, the torment of his pleas, is still fresh, but you’ve managed to hold firm. You’ve chosen not to open the door, not to let him back into your life. This choice, as difficult as it was, is a testament to your resolve, to your commitment to yourself.

You sit back down, wrapping yourself in a blanket of quiet determination. The tears you’ve fought so hard to keep at bay finally come, not as a sign of weakness but as a release of all the emotions you’ve been holding inside. They’re a reminder of your humanity, of the depth of your feelings, but they’re also a sign of your strength—strength you needed to make the right decision, no matter how hard it was.

You’ve done what you needed to do to protect your heart, and now, you allow yourself to grieve, to heal, and to move forward. You close your eyes, letting the tears flow, and in the silence of your room, you begin the process of letting go, knowing that you’ve taken a crucial step toward finding the peace and happiness you deserve.

You reach for your phone, your hands trembling slightly as you begin to type out a message. You need to be firm, clear, and compassionate, even if you’re struggling with your own emotions. You know that any form of communication right now will only complicate things, but you also want to make sure Sukuna understands the finality of your decision.

With a deep breath, you type:

“Sukuna, I can’t talk to you right now. Please, just go home. We can’t have this conversation tonight. I need some space, and I need you to respect that. Please understand and go home.”

You hit send, watching as the message is delivered. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope that this will be the end of it, that he’ll respect your wishes and leave you alone. You’ve made your boundaries clear, and now it’s up to him to honor them.

Minutes pass in tense silence, and your phone stays quiet. You sit back down, trying to calm your racing heart, focusing on the quiet around you instead of the anxiety that has taken root in your chest.

But then, a new message comes through. You don’t even need to look to know that it’s from Sukuna. With a heavy heart, you open it:

“I just need to see you. I’m sorry for everything, but I can’t let this end like this. Please.”

You can almost hear the desperation in his words, the anguish that comes from knowing he’s losing you. But you also know that this isn’t just about you and him anymore. It’s about your own well-being, your need to set boundaries and stick to them, even when it’s incredibly hard.

You type back:

“No, Sukuna. This is not the time. I’ve made my decision, and I need you to respect it. I can’t keep doing this. Please, just go home.”

You hit send, feeling the weight of your words settle heavily on your shoulders. You’re asking for something that feels almost impossible—to respect a boundary when emotions are high, when both of you are vulnerable. But it’s necessary. 

You put your phone aside and try to find a way to soothe the emotional storm inside you. You remind yourself of why you made this decision, of the personal growth you’ve achieved, and the need to maintain your peace. You try to focus on the positives of your life and the future you’re working toward, hoping that with time, the pain of this moment will fade and you’ll find a way to heal.

Hours tick by slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, there’s a quiet relief in knowing that, at least for now, you’ve done all you can. You’ve set your boundaries and communicated your needs as clearly as possible.

You let yourself close your eyes, allowing the exhaustion to wash over you. The road to recovery will be long and fraught with moments like this, but for tonight, you’ve taken a crucial step toward reclaiming your life. As you drift into a fitful sleep, you hold onto the hope that tomorrow will bring clarity and a renewed sense of peace, allowing you to continue moving forward.

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IF THERE WAS A LOVE STORY WORTH MENTIONING, IT’S YOURS. Because in truth, it wasn’t a love story. It was a painful hurt instead. The romance between you and Sukuna was a tumultuous symphony of passion and pain, a story that oscillated between intense highs and devastating lows. It was a love that consumed everything in its path, leaving behind a trail of broken dreams and shattered hearts. 

You, the good girl with a heart full of hope and idealism, and him, the quintessential troublemaker whose very presence seemed to stir chaos wherever he went. It was a match made in hell, an explosive combination of purity and defiance that sparked with an almost palpable intensity. 

From the beginning, there was an undeniable chemistry between you two, a magnetic pull that drew you into Sukuna’s orbit. You were drawn to his raw energy, the way he seemed to live on the edge of every emotion, pushing boundaries and challenging norms. His life was a whirlwind of excitement and unpredictability, and it was a stark contrast to the more controlled and orderly world you inhabited.

At first, the contrasts were thrilling. Your calm demeanor and responsible nature seemed to balance out his reckless tendencies, creating a dynamic that felt electric and invigorating. You believed that your love could be the force that tamed his wildness, that your stability could anchor him amidst his stormy existence.

But as time went on, the initial thrill gave way to a more complex and painful reality. Sukuna’s troublemaking ways began to seep into every aspect of your relationship, turning what was once exciting into something exhausting. His impulsiveness, once charming, became a source of constant stress and conflict. The very qualities that attracted you to him started to feel like burdens, and the harmony you sought began to slip through your fingers.

The highs were dizzying—moments of intense connection and fiery passion that made you feel alive and on top of the world. But the lows were equally devastating, each conflict leaving deeper wounds, each argument a reminder of how differently you saw the world. The love that had once seemed like a perfect escape from your own constraints now felt like a whirlwind of chaos that you couldn’t control.

Your attempts to bring order and stability to the relationship often clashed with Sukuna’s need for freedom and rebellion. The more you tried to ground him, the more he resisted, and the cycle of conflict and resolution became a relentless pattern. The love that once felt like a daring adventure turned into a series of battles, each one leaving both of you more scared than the last.

Ultimately, the contrast between your worlds proved too great. The boundaries you set were repeatedly crossed, the promises made were broken too many times. The passion that had once ignited your connection became the fuel for your destruction. What began as a match made in hell had devolved into a battlefield of emotional devastation.

You were left to pick up the pieces of a love that had burned too brightly, too destructively. The remnants of your time together were a stark reminder of the dangers of mixing such opposing forces. In the end, the love you shared was a powerful testament to the intense beauty and agony of a relationship that, despite its fiery start, was doomed from the beginning.

From the beginning, the relationship was marked by a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. Sukuna's charisma and intensity drew you in, his presence filling every space with an almost palpable energy. There was a fire in his eyes, a promise of something deeper and more profound, and you were captivated by the allure of his raw power and unfiltered emotions.

At first, it felt like a dream. His touch was electric, his words charged with a potent mix of desire and vulnerability. You would get lost in his gaze, swept away by the intensity of his kisses, believing that this was what true love was supposed to feel like. Every argument, every make-up, every moment of passion felt like a confirmation of the bond you shared.

You couldn’t stand it anymore, how tired you were. How truly full of it you were. how emotionally drained you’ve been. You found yourself face-to-face with Sukuna in the dimly lit living room. He stood close, his gaze intense and his voice almost a whisper, yet filled with an undeniable gravity.

"I'm sorry." Sukuna said, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness. "I never meant for things to get so out of hand. I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you."

You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity mixed with a touch of desperation. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"You say that now, but it feels like we’re always back here, fighting and making up," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I thought this was supposed to be different. I thought we were building something real."

Sukuna reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that belied his earlier anger. "It is real. What we have is intense, but it’s real. I know I mess up, but I need you to understand that I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re everything to me."

You looked at him, feeling the familiar mix of pain and passion. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Sukuna. Every time we fight, it feels like we’re tearing each other apart. Maybe this intensity isn’t what I thought it was.”

He stepped closer, his voice filled with an earnest plea. “Please, don’t say that. We can work through this. I know I’m not perfect, but we have something special. We just need to fight for it, not let it slip away because of a few mistakes.”

You shook your head, tears welling up. “It’s not just a few mistakes. It’s the pattern, the way things keep repeating. I want to believe in us, but it’s getting harder every day. We’re not just having moments of passion anymore; we’re living in a storm.”

Sukuna’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I don’t want to be the storm in your life. I just want to be with you. Please, let me show you that we can be more than this.”

As his arms wrapped around you, the warmth of his body was a stark contrast to the cold reality of your situation. You said nothing as you leaned into the warmth of his body. The intensity of his words and the fire in his eyes were a powerful reminder of his hold on you. You forgave him that night once again, as you always did. And once again, you were trapped.

But beneath the surface of this passionate connection lay a darker undercurrent, one that grew stronger with time. Sukuna's emotional volatility was not just a fleeting characteristic; it was a core part of who he was. His moods shifted with little warning, swinging from intense affection to cold detachment. What seemed like an endearing quirk quickly revealed itself as a source of profound instability.

Sukuna's massive hand moved to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands you had painstakingly did. You were ignoring him again after your recent fight. You just wanted peace of mind from him. And you knew that he hated being ignored. You know he hated being forgotten. You were the only person in his life that dealt with him, all his everything — and to not have you there shatters him. As much, you suppose, when he shatters you by loving you.

His other hand wrapped around your side, pulling you closer against him with a possessive strength. You felt the heat of his body pressing against yours, his touch both demanding and overwhelming. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he started to kiss and nibble along your skin.

The kisses were intense, growing more fervent until he bit down, his teeth breaking through the delicate skin. A cry escaped your lips, a mix of pain and confusion. You could feel Sukuna speaking against your skin, his voice muffled and indistinct, but the words were lost in the haze of sensation and hurt.

The pressure of his hand on the back of your neck was unrelenting, anchoring you to him and heightening the intensity of the moment. It was only when his fingers pressed firmly against the nape of your neck that everything snapped into focus. The sharp reality of the situation cut through the fog, pulling you back to the present.

The biting pain, the tight grip, and the overwhelming closeness were all too much. You could see the raw, unfiltered emotion in his eyes, the storm of feelings that often clouded his judgment. In that moment, you were starkly aware of the power dynamics at play, the fine line between passion and control, and the deep-seated turmoil that defined your relationship.

The kiss, now a blend of pain and longing, was a stark reminder of the complexity of your love—both fierce and destructive. The intimacy of the touch, the raw intensity, and the sharp bite were all part of the same emotional spectrum, where passion and pain were often intertwined in ways that left you feeling vulnerable and conflicted.

You could feel your skin growing moist, a cold sweat breaking out across your entire body as you struggled to maintain your sanity against his relentless touch. Ryomen Sukuna had a way of overwhelming you, of winning you over even when you were trying to resist. His touch always managed to reach places you thought were well-guarded, stirring up sensations that you couldn’t ignore. You could feel your body betraying you, slick pooling between your legs, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your mind.

With a swift movement, Sukuna pinned you against the wall, his body pressing hard against yours. His kisses grew even more rough and demanding, each press of his lips a reminder of the intensity and chaos that defined your relationship. His hands roamed over your chest, fingers pinching and teasing, heightening the mix of pleasure and pain.

"Sukuna, slow down. It hurts." you cried out, your voice wavering as you tried to make yourself heard over the roar of conflicting emotions. The rawness in your voice was a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to make him see the damage being done. "Sukuna, we... oh, we won't fix anything with this."

His grip faltered for a moment, but only just. He paused, his breath ragged and heavy against your skin, his eyes dark with a mixture of frustration and desire. There was a flicker of hesitation, a moment where he seemed to question the reality of the situation. But the tension in his body remained, the emotional storm far from over.

Your heart pounded as you struggled to maintain your composure, to hold onto a shred of clarity amidst the haze of his touch. The physical connection was undeniable, but it was the emotional wreckage that left you feeling most exposed. The passion that once felt exhilarating now seemed like a dangerous force that threatened to consume you both.

"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations.

His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion you’re experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."

The declaration hangs heavily in the air, mingling with the heat of the moment. You mewl softly, a sound of both surrender and confusion. His touch and words are a potent mix, stirring emotions that you’ve been trying to keep in check. 

In your turmoil, you find yourself grappling with the truth of his words. The love you shared is undeniable, and it’s clear he still feels it deeply. Yet, the intensity of him and the roughness of his touch make it hard to reconcile with the pain and frustration that have become a part of your relationship.

"Even if you love me….." you manage to say, your voice trembling. "We can’t fix everything like this. We’re hurting each other, Sukuna.”

He doesn’t pull away, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity that makes it difficult to look away. The struggle between your emotions and his unyielding desire leaves you feeling torn, caught between the remnants of your past connection and the harsh reality of the present.

Sukuna’s grip remains firm, his dark red eyes not leaving yours. In this moment, the lines between love and pain blur — as it was with your relationship. The declaration of love feels both comforting and confounding, leaving you with the painful realization that while feelings might persist, the way you’re handling them is only adding to the emotional wreckage. You were in love with him as much as he was with you. But what was the point of this? Of this suffering?

But as he pleasured you, you never said anything. You just let him love you painfully, because that’s all he knew. It was a raw, visceral form of connection, a way he expressed what he felt, even if it was damaging. It was all he could give, the only way he knew how to bridge the gap between you.

As you felt him inside of you, there was a deep, painful connection that mingled with the physical sensations. It was a painful reminder of the way your love had always been—intense, consuming, and sometimes overwhelmingly conflicted. The pleasure was intertwined with the hurt, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other. 

You accepted it, allowing the moment to unfold as it did. In your mind, you grappled with the reality of your situation—recognizing that this was how Sukuna knew to express his love, even if it was fraught with pain. And so, in the midst of the storm of sensations, you let yourself be caught up in the complexity of your emotions, trying to find a semblance of understanding amidst the chaos.

Arguments became frequent, fueled by misunderstandings and a growing sense of frustration. The intensity that once seemed thrilling now felt suffocating. Sukuna's need for control and dominance clashed with your desire for independence, creating a constant struggle for power. What was once exhilarating now felt like an endless cycle of conflict and resolution, each cycle leaving deeper emotional scars you didn’t want.

The tension in the air was palpable. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clenched in frustration, while Sukuna stood across the room, his posture rigid with anger and jealousy. His eyes were fixed on you, his gaze fierce and unrelenting, the result of a recent encounter with one of your friends who had been a bit too touchy for his liking.

"You’re always so quick to run off." Sukuna snapped, his voice sharp and laced with irritation. "Why can’t you just stay and deal with things like an adult? I’ve seen the way you look at others. Do you think I’m blind?"

You turned to face him, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. "It’s not about anyone else. It’s about us. You’re always so controlling. You want to dictate every part of my life. I need space, Sukuna. I need to be able to breathe."

His eyes flared with frustration as he stepped closer, the intensity of his emotions almost tangible. "Space? That’s what you call it? I saw the way you were with him tonight. It’s like you’re trying to push me away, like you’re looking for excuses to slip through my fingers."

You stood up, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. "It’s not about looking for excuses. I’m not trying to push you away. I just need to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I’m under constant surveillance. This isn’t about him. It’s about the way you’re smothering me."

Sukuna’s frustration was evident in the way he paced the room, his fists clenched at his sides. "Smothering you? I’m just trying to hold onto what we have. If you’d stop running and actually listen, maybe we could work things out. But every time I turn around, it feels like you’re slipping further away."

"You’re not holding onto what we have, Sukuna." you said, your voice trembling. "You’re suffocating me. Every time we have an argument, you try to control me even more. I need space to figure out what I want without feeling like I’m being watched and judged every second."

Sukuna stopped pacing and looked at you with a mixture of anger and hurt. "I don’t want to control you. I want to be with you, but it feels like you’re constantly pushing me away. I just don’t know how to handle it when I see you getting close to others. It makes me feel like I’m losing you."

The room fell silent, the air thick with unresolved emotions. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear of losing you. But you also felt the deep, suffocating grip of his jealousy and control. The love that once felt exciting now seemed like a battleground, and the constant cycle of arguments and attempts at resolution were leaving both of you emotionally drained.

"I don’t want us to keep going in circles like this, Sukuna." you said softly, your heart aching. "We need to find a way to be together without this constant struggle. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep hurting each other."

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I don’t know how to change things if you won’t let me in, you know that." he said, his voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration. "I just want us to be okay, but it feels like we’re constantly fighting against each other."

You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the sting of his accusation. "That wasn’t flirting. I was just being polite. And even if I was, what does it matter? You can’t keep trying to control me like this. We can’t keep doing this.”

He stepped closer, his anger palpable. "You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Always so independent, always so self-righteous. I’m the one who’s always fighting to keep us together. And this is how you repay me? By pushing me away and seeking attention from others?"

His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the control he exerted over your life. "This isn’t about repaying you. It’s about being true to myself. I’m tired of feeling like I have to constantly prove my loyalty to you. I’m not your possession."

Sukuna’s face contorted with frustration, and he slammed his fist against the wall. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you slip away while I’m left here fighting to keep us from falling apart? I’m trying to hold onto something real, and you’re pushing me away."

The hurt in his voice was undeniable, a mix of jealousy and desperation. But you could see the cracks in his control, the way his need for dominance had become a cage that both of you were trapped in.

"I’m not trying to push you away." you said, your voice trembling. "I’m trying to find a way to be myself without feeling like I’m suffocating under your expectations. We’re stuck in this cycle of fighting and making up, and it’s tearing us apart."

Sukuna’s expression softened for a moment, the anger giving way to a look of vulnerability. "I just don’t want to lose you. I know I’m not perfect, but I need you to understand how much you mean to me."

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. "I know you care, but the way you show it is suffocating. We need to find a way to be together without this constant power struggle. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep hurting each other."

The room fell silent, the intensity of the argument leaving both of you exhausted. The love that once felt like a thrilling adventure now seemed like a battlefield, with each conflict leaving deeper scars. The vibrant energy that had once sparked between you was now overshadowed by an unrelenting cycle of discord and unresolved tension.

You wrapped your arms around your chest, as though trying to hug and comfort yourself amid the emotional wreckage. Your shoulders shook slightly with the effort to maintain composure, but even more tears were inevitable.

Sukuna’s posture was a reflection of his internal struggle, his anger giving way to a raw vulnerability. He took a hesitant step towards you, his voice trembling. “What do you want me to do?” he whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “What can I do, to…to make you stay?”

The softness in his voice, the genuine plea for understanding, struck a deep chord. You could see the pain and desperation etched into his features, the realization of how precariously close he was to losing you. Yet, amidst the raw emotion, you felt overwhelmed and trapped.

“I don’t know,” you replied, your voice breaking as the tears began to fall freely. “I’m tired, Sukuna. I’m tired… of loving you and losing you all at once.”

His shoulders sagged as he absorbed your words, the weight of your exhaustion evident in his expression. The tears that prickled at his eyes now spilled over, reflecting the depth of his own despair. His gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet yours, the crushing reality of your relationship settling heavily between you.

The room was filled with a profound silence, broken only by the soft sounds of your sobs and his choked breaths. The love you shared, which had once been a source of exhilaration and passion, now felt like a relentless cycle of joy and pain that neither of you could escape.

Sukuna’s voice was barely audible as he spoke again, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make things right when everything feels so broken.”

You wiped at your tears, the exhaustion of the emotional turmoil leaving you feeling drained. “Neither do I.” you admitted softly. “I wish I had the answers. I wish I could find a way to make things work, but right now, it feels like we’re stuck in a never-ending loop of hurt and confusion.”

Sukuna’s silence was heavy with resignation, a poignant acknowledgment of the struggle that had become an inescapable part of your relationship. The love that had once been a source of strength and excitement now seemed overshadowed by a painful reality that neither of you knew how to navigate.

In that quiet moment, both of you were left grappling with the depth of your feelings, the complexity of your relationship, and the painful truth that sometimes love alone isn’t enough to overcome the barriers that keep you apart.

Sukuna's tears continued to fall, and he moved closer, his steps hesitant but deliberate. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against your arm in a gesture that was both gentle and desperate.

“I never meant to make things so difficult,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought... I thought if I held on tight, if I tried harder, we could work through it. But now, I see how much I’ve pushed you away.”

You looked at him, your own tears blurring your vision. The sight of him, vulnerable and torn, added to the weight of your own sorrow. You wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but the chasm between you felt insurmountable.

“I know you were trying,” you said, your voice cracking. “But the way you tried to control things... it pushed me away more than anything else. I felt like I was losing myself in trying to make things work.”

Sukuna’s hand tightened around your arm, his grip firm but not painful. “What do you need from me?” he asked, his voice desperate. “Tell me what I can do to make things right, to fix this.”

You shook your head, struggling to find the words to express the depth of your exhaustion and the confusion that clouded your mind. “I don’t know if there’s anything that can fix this right now. I just feel... lost.”

His expression softened, the realization dawning that perhaps the damage was too great to repair immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to handle my own fears and insecurities.”

You nodded, the sadness overwhelming. “I know. And I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that we couldn’t find a way to make this work without hurting each other so much.”

The silence between you was heavy, filled with the echoes of what had been and what might never be again. The love that had once felt so alive now seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the pain and the sense of inevitability.

Sukuna’s hand slowly fell away from your arm, and he took a step back, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Maybe... maybe we both need some time apart to figure things out. To heal and find ourselves again.”

You looked at him, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. “Maybe you’re right. I need time to understand what I really want and to heal from all of this.”

Sukuna nodded, his face a mask of resignation and understanding. “I hope... I hope we can both find a way to be okay, even if it means being apart.”

With that, Sukuna turned and walked towards the door, each step heavy with the weight of what was ending. As he left, the silence of the room seemed to deepen. You sat down on the edge of the bed once more, your emotions a tangled mess of sadness and relief. The path ahead was uncertain, but in the quiet that followed, you felt more alone than ever before. But free. Freed from your own ruin.

▬ι══════════════ι▬

YOU COULDN’T DO IT ANYMORE IN THE END. In the end, you did break up with him. The cycle of arguments and reconciliation had become a never-ending loop, a house of cards that seemed destined to collapse no matter how carefully it was built. You loved him deeply, that was undeniable. But you also realized that rekindling the relationship would only lead to more pain, more hurt that neither of you could bear.

As you stood by the window, the first light of dawn was beginning to creep across the sky, painting the world in soft hues of pink and gold. The sight was starkly beautiful, a contrast to the turmoil that had been raging inside you. This was what life should be like, you think. You shouldn’t settle for less. You shouldn’t settle for hurt.

Outside, you could see him—still there, lingering near your door, his figure slumped against the wall. He had a cigarette against the burrow of his lips, smoke filling his face. The remnants of a wild night clung to him; he was drunk and high, his posture wavering as he waited for you. The sight of him, lost and desperate, broke your heart in a way that felt both familiar and foreign.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your decision settle heavily upon you. You knew that as much as you loved him, returning to him now would only mean opening the door to a love that had become toxic, a love that had already left you shattered too many times.

“I can’t go through this again.” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible. The realization was painful, but clear. The cycle of breaking up and making up had drained you emotionally, leaving you with scars that were too deep to ignore. “Not again.”

As the sun continued to rise, its light growing stronger, you turned away from the window, feeling a sense of finality. The decision to end things was not made lightly, and the pain of walking away was immense. But you knew it was necessary for your own well-being, for the chance to heal and find a path forward that wasn’t mired in the constant heartbreak that your relationship had become.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you reached for your phone. With a heavy heart, you composed a message, knowing it was the last thing you needed to say to him. Your fingers hovered over the screen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you as you typed:

"Sukuna, this is the last time I’m reaching out. I can see you waiting outside, and I need you to understand that this is over. I love you, but we’ve reached a point where continuing this relationship will only lead to more hurt. The cycle of breaking up and making up has left us both wounded, and I can’t keep going through it. I need to move on and find healing for myself. Please respect my decision and let this be the end. I wish you well, but I can’t be with you anymore. Goodbye."

You stared at the message for a moment, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. With a final press of the send button, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. It was done. The words were out there, and now it was time to let go and start the process of healing. You took a deep sigh and pursed your lips into a flat line.

As the first rays of sunlight began to illuminate the room, you felt a glimmer of hope amidst the sadness. The end of this chapter was painful, but it was also a step towards a future where you could rebuild, where you could heal. It was a chance to find peace and to rediscover yourself, away from the shadows of a love that had become more damaging than fulfilling.

With a final, lingering glance at the window, you steeled yourself for the difficult road ahead. The love you had for  Ryomen Sukuna was real, but the decision to move forward was the right one. As the sun rose higher in the sky, you began to prepare for a new day, one that would be marked by both the pain of goodbye and the promise of new beginnings. You hope the best for him, as much as you hoped the best for you. 

[chrisbesitos]

younger reader cursing out Chris because she’s in one of her snappy moods then apologizing with tears 30 min after.

“oh my god your pissing me off! Can’t you just shut the fuck up!!!” You say running away

bad moody.

"But, doll, I–"

"Jeez, Chris, shut up!" Y/N said, almost screaming. Chris was pissing her, she was trying to study for a test, but her boyfriend didn't stop talking. "You're fucking pissing me off."

"Oh." He murmured, surprised by the way she was acting. Most of the time, Y/N is lovely and gentle, but now she's stressed and annoyed. "I'm. . . I'm sorry, doll." Chris didn't know how to act, he didn't want to get her moody worse.

"Just. . . Just stop talking." She took a deep breath and sighed, Y/N reached of her pencil on the computer desk. "Where is it?!"

"You want help with something?"

"No! Just leave me alone, Chris!"

Chris didn't discuss, he just reached for his phone on the bed and walked out of the room. He would not argue with her while she was in that mood, Chris just did what he asked and left her alone until she calmed down.

He went to the living room, Chris sat on the couch and decided to watch a movie. Not much time after Y/N kicked Chris out of the room, the boy heard the door open and steps on the stairs. He turned the volume of the tv down and opened his arms when Y/N ran until her boyfriend drowning on her tears.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to be rude to you." Y/N cried out, Chris hugged her hard and caressing her back. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay, doll. It's okay." Chris whispered, he wasn't mad at her, he could never be. The boy kissed her cheek, then her lips. "You were upset, I get it."

"It wasn't an excuse to kick you out of the room." Y/N sobs, but Chris shook his head smiling. "Do you still love me?"

"Ur so silly, don't you?" Chris giggled. "I could never stop loving you, doll. You're my princess."

"So you forgive me?"

"Jeez, doll. Of course I forgive you, don't worry." Then Chris pulled her to a passionate kiss, he loves his doll with his whole heart. A bad mood would not change this, not even a little bit. "Are you on your period?" Chris broke the kiss and ask.

"Yeah, it came this morning."

"Now I get this moody."

she's just a girl in her period moody 😔

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[zhonglicious]

pairing: bully!ran haitani x fem!reader x bully!rindou haitani

cw: 1.5k

cw: dark content (if you dont like, keep scrolling. please.), college au, fem!reader, virgin!reader, bully!rindou haitani, bully!ran haitani, non-con/dub-con, bullying, non-consensual filming, sexual harassment, blackmail, blowjobs, humiliation, fingering, creampie, lmk if i forgot any!

thinking of bullies!ran and rindou :(( they're both so mean, insisting on making your life a living hell >:((

they're both fucking assholes. they do all the typical cliche bullying you see in movies. they steal your stuff, they laugh and humiliate you. and no one ever calls them out on it or even attempts to, because they're the haitanis, and they always have their way.

rindou is actually the "nicer" one. he makes you do something then leaves you alone for a few days. you prefer dealing with him, because he isn't as mean as ran is. the worst he's had you do is take all of his schoolwork, and make you do them instead. makes you do them in his lap, his fingers flipping up your skirt and caressing your thighs. when you wriggle, he just huffs and slaps the skin. so he isn't as bad, as long as you do what he wants you to.

but ran. ran haitani, the older brother, is an absolute fucking bag of dicks >:(( while rindou lets you breathe, ran absolutely does not. he is so mean. makes you run errands for him, from getting rid of items that could get him expelled, to the most mundane task of getting him a drink. but then he hums and stands up, only to pour the ice cold water on your head. laughs as the liquid seeps into your white button up, enough of it drenching the material to expose your bra underneath. sends you away with a smile on his face, downing whatever remained in the glass.

but then it gets worse :(( one day ran grabs you and drags you to his dorm room. locks the door behind him as he pushes you inside. sits down on a chair and tells you to kneel in front of his spread legs. and you can already see the obvious bulge straining against his pants as he hums and fishes his phone out of his pocket. when you try to protest, he tuts, phone in one hand as he unbuckles his belt with the other.

"this is the last thing i'll make you do. if you suck me off and make me cum, i'll leave you alone." the grin that stretches his lips is cheshire, and you can't tell if he's lying or not. but still, the words make hope blossom in your chest, so you ask meekly, "you swear?" and ran's grin grows even wider as he croons his answer "i swear."

so ran throws his belt on the bed and unbuttons his pants as you straighten your back and scoot closer, small fingers hesitantly dragging down the zipper and taking his already hard cock out of his boxers. he's big, your fingers barely wrapping around his base as you stare wide-eyed. the chuckle above you makes your head snap up, and you see hooded lavender eyes staring down at you in amusement.

"never had someone this big before?" he raises an eyebrow, and you look away. so you don't notice the way both of his eyebrows rise when you admit you've never done this before, his dick twitching in your hands. his pupils are blown wide as he cards his fingers through your hair and yanks your face closer to him, the tip just barely grazing your bottom lip. coos at you "well then you should be thanking me for letting you get some experience."

and when you hesitate, his voice grows deeper and more authoritative as he tugs at your hair again. his cock presses against your cheek and smears pre-cum as he says "suck." so you do, hesitantly taking the head in your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. you may be inexperienced, but you have seen some porn, at least. and the answering satisfied sigh above you is a good indication, so you keep going.

you can't take him all the way in, so you use both hands to jerk what you can't reach. "mhmm, just like that," ran hums above you, legs opening wider to give you more room. and you feel sick, because the sound makes your core throb, makes your legs squeeze together from where you're kneeling.

after a while, you hear a breathless "fuck, i'm gonna cum-" and instinctively, you lift your gaze and...

see the camera of ran's phone gazing back at you.

alarmed, you try to pull off him but ran isn't having it. with the hand still in your hair, he pushes you down further on him, moaning at the way you gag around his length, hips jerking as he shoots his cum down your throat. then when he's done, he laughs and tucks himself back in his pants and shows you the video in his camera roll. "but you said-" "god, you really are stupid, aren't you? i lied, sweetheart." so now you have to do everything he asks unless you want the video to spread around the campus :((

he makes you do "favors" for him, worse than what he already has you do before.

a few days later, ran has you in his lap in his dorm room. this is one of the "favors" he's asked of you. well, more like showed you the video and threatened to send it to people in campus. so now he has you in his lap, middle and ring buried in your cunt, all while his phone records everything from the table :((

whenever you say stop, ran just clicks his tongue and goes faster, fingers curling against your sweet spot so quickly it has you seeing stars, even as you keep sobbing for him to let you go. now, here's the thing. you've been so busy dealing with ran's "favors" that you've neglected to realize rin hasn't been messing with you lately!

so when rin uses his key to walk into their shared dorm room, you practically jolt remembering the existence of the younger brother. but rin has always been the nicer brother! so you beg for him to help you, all while the smile on ran's face shifts into a grin because he knows what rindou's answer is gonna be.

rin who smirks at you and says "no." relishes in the despaired noise you make, tapering off into a whine as ran's palm brushes against your clit. he shuts the door behind him and chucks his bag onto his bed. rin who pulls ran's fingers out of you, manhandling you onto his bed and grinning at you like "ran's had his fun with you, but i haven't. i think it's my turn now."

rindou clicks his tongue at how you struggle against him, so he grabs your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, while the other guides his cock to your already wet entrance. the tip teases at the tight ring of muscle, and you whimper weakly. "please stop-" you sob, and rindou gives you an unimpressed look before he pushes himself in. you gasp just as he hisses, the warmth of your walls around the head feeling heavenly.

he pushes himself the rest of the way in, ignoring your protests. "telling me to stop when your cunt's squeezing me so tight. fuck- can't believe ran hasn't fucked you yet." he grunts, giving you no time to adjust before he's slamming into you in an unforgiving pace. while you moan "stop" repeatedly, mind hazy at the way he fills you up, ran chuckles and retrieves his phone, already recording the way rindou fucks into you.

"mm, i wanted you to have your fun first, rindou <3" ran hums, the phone recording as you cry and throw your head back onto the pillows. rindou snickers at this, tapering off into a moan as your cunt squeezes around him. "damn, can't wait for you to fuck her. so fucking good, fuck-" he groans.

"rindou- rin-" you sob, your hips twitching as moans and whimpers fall out of your mouth from how the tip of rindou's cock keeps jabbing against your g-spot. the stretch of his cock burns but it also feels so so good, so all you can do is babble mindlessly as your orgasm creeps up on you.

rindou isn't faring any better either, breathing heavily as his thrusts get sloppier, faster as his thumb finds purchase on your clit. "shit, i'm gonna cum," he moans breathlessly, furiously rubbing your sensitive nub, and causing that tight coil of pleasure to snap. rindou gasps at the way your cunt flutters around him, thrusting one, two, three more times before he's cumming, curses falling from his lips as he paints your walls white. and ran films it all, cock straining against his jeans.

ran who walks over to get a close up of your cunt dripping out rindou's cum as he pulls out. even as rin lets go of your wrists, you don't have it in you to struggle, so you just moan weakly as ran uses his fingers to collect the cum that drips out of you, pushing it back in. well, that's just another thing he can add to his folder of you <3

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #9 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

A pounding headache awoke you from your sleep, the feeling of warm arms wrapped around you brought you comfort, mind still groggy and eyes barely open. You took a deep breath, licking your dry lips as the taste of alcohol with still on your tongue, making you slightly cringe at the bitter taste. You closed your eyes again, hands moving towards the warm arms wrapped around you. “Kento.” You smiled to yourself, voice cracking. You gently caressed his skin before gaining the strength to turn over towards him.

You slowly opened your eyes only to be met with familiar black hair, and an all too familiar scar. Your brows furrowed and you immediately sat up. “What the fuck?!” You screamed. Toji jolted awake, looking around the room before his eyes landed on you, a confused look on his face. “What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Toji?!” You screamed, not helping the fact your head was still pounding. You quickly scrambled out of the bed, mind running a million miles per hour and heart beating just the same.

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down, y/n!” He sat up, holding his hands out in defense. “Nothing happened between us, okay? We didn’t do anything,” he tried to explain.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you mumbled under your breath. What happened last night? Where was Kento? “What the fuck!” You screamed. “I can’t with you, Toji. We strictly agreed that this wouldn’t happen no matter what. We agreed that we only communicated if it came to the kids and now here you are making your way into my bed again! Oh my god! I should’ve fucking known!” You scoff in disbelief.

His brows furrowed at your words. “You called me last night!” Toji yelled back, getting out of the bed. “Crying, begging for me to come over here! Don’t pin this shit on me!”

“Oh, bull-fucking-shit, Toji. What’d you do, huh? Threaten Kento? Scared him away? All so you could have a quick fuck again?!” You clenched your jaw in anger.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Toji stared at you, lips parted.

“Remember what?” You shrug your shoulders, throwing your hands in the air.

Toji pulls his phone from his pocket, calmly walking over to you. You eye him up and down as he does so before he turns his phone towards you. “You called me, late last night, drunk, crying, begging me to come over, asking me to stay.”

You stare at the screen, seeing that you were the one who made a call to him last night. “I…” You quickly shut your mouth, not knowing what to say.

“Apparently you and your new boyfriend had gotten into an argument. Don’t ask me about what, I didn’t care to know. But, I don’t need you yelling at me and blaming me for being in your bed when you were clinging onto me with tears in your eyes saying that you—” Toji quickly cut himself off before he made the situation even worse. “Listen, y/n, I came over because I was worried something had happened to you. Otherwise, I would have respected our decision to leave each other alone. We didn’t have sex or anything of the sort like you’re assuming! I only stayed because you asked me to.”

You looked up at him with sincere eyes, poking your cheek with your tongue. “I’m sorry, I just—I thought…” You sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, whatever.” Toji grabbed his shoes, slipping them on. “I’ll be sure not to come again when you call unless the kids are here, I don’t want this happening again.” He opened your bedroom door before stopping in his tracks. “It’s best if you don’t remember last night.” He walked out of your bedroom, the sound of his footsteps growing farther away.

You sat there and pondered about what he just said, biting at the skin of your lips. “Shit.” You quickly grabbed your phone, wasting no time to call Kento. Your leg bounced up and down nervously as it kept ringing and ringing, hoping that you’d hear his voice on the other end of the line.

Whatever happened last night between you and him needed to be talked about, it’s sad that you can’t even remember it, but deep down you felt that was the right decision.

“Hello?” His voice was soft but raspy, like he had just woken up.

“Kento…hey,” you responded.

“Y/n,” he sharply spoke, like your name was something forbidden.

A deep sigh left your lips. “Can we talk about last night, please? I just want to apologize to you about being so harsh and making you leave—letting you leave. I just…I want us to work out. You’re an amazing person and I appreciate you in my life—”

“Y/n, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He cut you off, leaving you slightly shocked. “After our small argument last night and after I had left, I realized one thing about this whole situation that I don’t even think you realize yourself. In no way am I blaming you or shaming you because you’re also amazing, beautiful, and kindhearted, but…I know you’re still in love with Toji.” His words hit you like a truck, your mouth dry, eyes darting around the room as if you were searching for what to say. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s what I noticed, what I see.”

“Kento, but, I don’t want this to end between us just because you think I’m still in love with Toji. I’m sorry if I hurt you last night or said anything that offended you, but I want us to work out. Can you just come over so we can talk? Please?” It was embarrassing, but you were begging him, that heavy feeling starting to sink down on your chest.

You heard sigh on the other end. “I’m sorry, y/n.” Your phone beeped as he abruptly hung up. You threw your phone on the bed as tears pooled in your eyes.

Maybe it was you, always you. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be happy and find real love. Maybe you were the one who was always making the mistakes. Why was it so easy for him to leave? To forget you just like that? It all felt too familiar, making you reminisce about your arguments with Toji. You wiped your tears stained cheeks, taking in a deep breath. You’ve barely even woken up fifteen minutes ago and your day has already gone to shit.

“Mom?!” You heard Megumi call as the front door squeaked open. Quickly, you wiped away your tears, trying to pull yourself together before your kids saw you. You didn’t want them to know you were crying.

Naya’s little feet could be heard running down the hall as she entered your room with a smile on her face. “Mommy!” She jumped into your arms, hugging you tightly.

“Hi! Good morning, baby!” You giggled. “How was aunty Shoko’s?” You asked, wiping a crumb off of her cheek.

“It was fun! She took us to a trampoline park, then the movies, and then we ate a restaurant!” She smiled.

“Hi, mom.” Megumi walked into the room, a tired look on his face, still dressed in his pajamas. You couldn’t help but laugh as he waddled over to you like a zombie, holding his arms out to hug you.

“Hi, my love,” you chuckled. “You look so tired.” You gently caressed his back. All he did was nod in return, nearly falling asleep on you. “Here,” you slipped his backpack off, “sleep a little longer in my bed and I’ll wake you up when breakfast is done, okay?”

“‘Kay.” The young boy plopped down face first into the pillow, pulling the blanket over his body.

“Mommy, can I help you make breakfast? I want blueberry and raspberry pancakes.” Your daughter batted her eyes at you, tugging on your shirt.

“Of course, let’s go and let your brother sleep.”

“So you ended up at her house last night, in her bed, and she said she loved you?” Gojo asked, taking a sip from his drink. Toji nodded in response. “Fucking hell,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “And you didn’t say anything to her?”

“She was fucking drunk, Gojo! What’d you want me to do, confess my feelings, getting married again and get her pregnant all in one minute? She one hundred percent didn’t mean a thing she said which is why she went off on me the moment she woke up. She’s with that dude anyway, it’s got nothing to do with me.” Toji just shrugged, taking a swig from his beer.

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Something tells me that you didn’t tell her what she said last night.” He stared at Toji, brows raised. Toji just stared back in silence, biting the inside of his cheek. “I knew it,” he scoffed.

“She wouldn’t have believed me anyway.” Toji sounded defeated, like he’d given up all hope that you and him would ever be together again. Which was true. Maybe it’s time that he stops fighting and let’s go. Let’s you go. “I think I’m starting to accept that me and her will never happen again.”

Gojo suck his teeth, waving Toji off. “Ah, come on, don’t say that.”

“It’s the fucking truth. But goddamn is it hard to accept.” He clenched his jaw.

“Kiss her,” Gojo bluntly stated.

Toji looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Kiss her and see. If she goes back for more, she still loves you, if she pushes you away then you know it’s over,” Gojo explained, like it was as easy as blinking.

“You are one stupid motherfucker,” he laughed, sipping on his beer.

“What?!” Gojo asked, voice slightly high.

“I can’t just kiss her, that’s weird, and she’s still with that guy. It’s not right. I can’t.” Toji shook his head, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger.

“Look,” Gojo slightly leaned forward, “I’m just tryna help you get your ex wife back, okay? Might not be the best ideas, but they’ve worked for me…in the past. Point is, it’s your best shot. Everything else you’ve tried has gone to shit. If she’s still with the guy, then don’t do it. If she is, well there you go.”

“But how would I know if they’re still together? I can’t just ask,” Toji mentioned.

“Be patient.” Just as soon as Gojo finished speaking, Toji’s phone went off, a text popping up on his screen.

Kids came back from Shoko’s a few hours ago, said they wanna see you.

Toji stared at the text, contemplating if he should go over there today, especially after what happened just few hours ago between you and him.

You stared at the text you had sent, waiting for his reply as he usually responds quickly, but there was nothing. You shut your phone off, watching as the kids played in Megumi’s room, Naya with her dolls and Megs on his video game.

“Did daddy respond?” Naya glanced up at you.

“Not yet, but I’m sure he will,” you assured her, a soft smile spread across your face. As the two were occupied with their things, you walked into your bedroom and laid down on the bed. You began to think about what Nanami had said, making you second guess everything about yourself. Were you still in love with Toji? How could you possibly know? What is it that you do or say that makes it so obvious to others? The questions began piling up, crowding your brain.

You weren’t in love with Toji, not anymore. Nanami is just saying things, still hurt over the argument that occurred. You were sure that you guys would be back together in no time. A misunderstanding is all this is. But then again, you called Toji last night, not Nanami. It was Toji you ran to first when you were upset and drunk. It was Toji who stayed when you asked him, even when he most likely knew you’d react the way you did this morning.

You toss in your bed, inhaling deeply as you stare at the ceiling and your phone buzzes.

I’ll be there in ten. Tell them I’m not coming, I wanna surprise em.

You chuckle through your nose at the text, getting up out of bed and walking over to your son’s room. “Hey, babies?” You said in almost a sad tone.

“Yeah?” Megumi responded, pausing his game.

“Daddy can’t make it today, said he’s busy. He’ll be here tomorrow though.” You frown.

“But…I miss him,” Naya said.

“He misses you too, that’s why he said tomorrow. Sometimes daddy gets busy just like mommy does,” you explained.

“Okay…” Megumi had a small pour on his face as he unpaused his game.

You walked back out the room and pulled your phone from your pocket.

They got so sad when I said you weren’t coming lol. Get here quick don’t wanna see one of my poor babies crying

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat @mochimoee @cheridrwyy @vi-ola666 @emmaperdoswife @sucrose-fqn @rhyies-pieces @tojislittleprincesss @sashadonat @ruixrei @zara-zara11 @paper--angel @khyok @ilyanadelarosa @zxnxy @esmedelacroix

[wonlovie]

— ALWAYS.

After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.

— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)

— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 14.3k

— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME

SIXTEEN DAYS.

When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.

Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 

Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.

You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.

The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.

Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 

It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 

You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”

Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 

Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 

And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.

“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 

Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.

A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.

When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 

Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.

A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”

Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.

Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”

You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.

Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).

“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”

“My what?”

Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”

“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”

“You get what I mean, sweets.” 

You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.

The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”

He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.

Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.

He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.

In other words, he was hot.

“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”

Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.

“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.

For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 

“It’s still weird to me.”

Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”

He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.

You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.

“You still hung up about it?”

Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”

He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”

You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”

Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.

Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.

You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 

Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.

Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.

Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.

Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”

“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Jake, we were five.”

“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.

Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 

“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.

With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”

By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 

“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”

You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”

Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”

“For you? Always.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”

Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”

Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.

Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.

Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.

3:02 a.m.

As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 

Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.

Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”

Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”

“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”

Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 

Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”

He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”

You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 

Jake did not sleep well that night.

FOURTEEN DAYS.

Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.

It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”

You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”

Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”

You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”

Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”

Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.

You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”

You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”

 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”

“My birth year?”

He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.

He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.

Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!

“Last night, while you slept.”

You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.

His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”

Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”

You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”

It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.

An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”

Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”

You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 

As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 

The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 

Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”

You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”

Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, it’s you!”

To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.

“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.

Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”

You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”

The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”

Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”

Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.

You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.

Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”

Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 

In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.

Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.

“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”

“A room for two, please,” said Jake.

The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”

You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 

It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 

“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”

Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”

Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.

In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 

He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.

“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.

Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”

Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.

“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”

Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.

“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 

Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”

Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.

“Why did you move so far?”

You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”

“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”

The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”

Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”

“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”

Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”

His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”

He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.

Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.

“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”

You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”

“With you, never, sweets.”

You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”

Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”

Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”

Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”

The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.

You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.

Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.

“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”

He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 

His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”

He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…

You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.

Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?

The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—

No. You need to stop.

Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.

“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 

Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.

Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 

You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.

“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.

Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.

Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.

“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.

“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”

It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”

You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.

Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”

Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”

He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”

He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.

“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.

He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 

“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.

When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”

Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.

Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 

The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.

When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.

“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.

You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.

He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.

When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”

You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”

You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.

He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 

“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”

Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.

You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 

The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.

Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.

ONE DAY.

Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.

Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.

As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.

“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.

So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.

Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”

Never, he thought.

That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.

In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.

He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 

Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.

Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.

He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.

“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.

“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.

“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.

If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”

He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”

You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.

You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”

You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”

He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.

“Yeah? Trust me?”

“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”

Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.

After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”

Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.

The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.

The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.

You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”

At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.

His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.

Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.

“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.

“Hmm?”

“When… When you said you loved me.”

You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”

THREE HOURS.

Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.

Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself

Are you even awake? 

Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century

Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”

At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.

“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”

Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.

The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.

When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.

He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.

Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.

Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.

“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.

You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.

Clearing your throat, you looked forward.

When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.

When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.

The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.

The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.

The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 

When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.

He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”

You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”

“Is it Heeseung?”

His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”

“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 

Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”

Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”

It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”

He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”

“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.

Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”

But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.

“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.

“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”

Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.

When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”

He met your eyes before kissing you again. 

You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”

Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.

“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 013 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. infidelity. slight angst. toxic characters & toxic relationships. 18+. smut (nothing explicit.) unedited. suggestive. fluff. alcohol consumption.

notes. feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3 ALSO!! i am very bad at describing places (i tried my best) but just so you guys can visualize things better, i included photos of where this chapter took place at the end of the fic

wc. 12.1k

series masterlist 

[ THIRTEEN ] it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. i’ve done the math, there’s no solution. we’ll never last – why can’t i let go of this?

“Rin,” you stopped his hands from going any further, your fingers closed around his. He paid you no mind as he merely flicks your hands away. The top three buttons of your blouse have already been popped open, the white lace of your bra visible to his eyes. They visibly darkened with lust. Grasping his hand again, you held him tighter this time around, preventing him from exposing you to him. “Rin, please. Stop.”

Rintaro finally stopped. His fingers froze in the air, his thumb caressing the button like he’s fighting back an itch to completely rip your blouse apart. Maybe on another day, you would’ve found his hunger to be flattering. But not here, not in the middle of nowhere, and definitely not when he smelled like smoke. Not when he smelled like all the horrible things he’d gotten from her.

Cocking his brow, he leant back at the hood of his car. He stared up at you, his pretty eyes narrowed into slits.

“What? You don’t want me to touch you?”

You vehemently shook your head no. You awaited it – some sort of angry response from him. It wasn’t often you rejected his advances, but it was written crystal clear on your face: he made you uncomfortable. He found it sickening, how you looked at him like he was some vermin.

“Fine,” he spat out, rounding the vehicle as he opens his door. “Get in the car.”

“But… I can’t just leave–”

“I’ll have someone take care of it. Get. In. The. Car.”

You glance back at your car. Kuroo’s cellphone was still inside, along with your gun engraved with your family crest. If anyone were to peek inside, it wouldn’t be far to assume that you were out to kill someone. Not to mention, it was your private vehicle, not the Palace’s issued ones. Quickly, you raise a finger to Rintaro and ask him to wait, running back to your car before slipping the phone inside your pockets. In less than a minute, you’d opened the passenger’s seat and buckled the seatbelt.

The silence was painful.

There’s nothing but the smooth hum of the car’s engine, the rhythmic tapping of Rintaro’s hand against the wheel. He didn’t bother turning the radio on, and you were too lost staring at the trees whizzing by to strike up a conversation. There were too many things to ask, too many answers that demanded your attention, and so little time for it all. You wanted him to break the silence first, until sleep beat you to it. With the clock reading half an hour past four, you found yourself nodding off, shaken awake by the constant road bumps ahead.

Six am.

You straightened your back. The scenery had shifted from the dense forestry. Beside you, Rintaro looked half-awake, cracking his neck from side to side.

You watched as the gentle fingers of dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold. With the car travelling along the coastal road, you glanced sideways, captivated by the mesmerizing vista unfolding before your eyes. You’d seen the sea before, but never at this time – never when the sun was beginning to stretch its arms as if to embrace it. The sea, that of liquid sapphire, shimmered under the first light of day, each tiny, soft wave crested with a translucent luminescence – something both haunting and mysterious that made it hard to look away. It was deep and bewitching, like it would whisper to you the secrets of the deep if you looked close enough.

Rolling the windows down, you gazed at the horizon – right where the ocean kissed the sky, and birthed with it the symphony of color. Pastels of pink and lavender blended into a cerulean blue. The sun, a radiant gem emerging from its slumber, cast a golden path across the water and shimmered across the ripples, inviting the soul to wander its glittering trail. You felt the need to reach out to it – to skirt your fingers across the horizon, wondering if somehow the sea could drown you in its beauty and your pain could be forgotten.

As the car cruised along, your eyes remained transfixed on the sea. Drawn to its endless, vast rhythmic dance of a push and pull. The waves rolled in a timeless cadence, their gentle roar a comforting lullaby. Each surge and retreat of the water mirrored your own steady breaths – in and out – a silent meditation that made you feel as if everything was almost okay.

Through the open window, the scent of salt and the crispness of morning air filtered through. It filled the car with the essence of the sea, masking the scent of Rintaro’s stumped cigarette. For a moment, you were filled with a profound sense of peace. A moment of stillness amid the journey. The sea, with its infinite expanse and eternal ebb, seemed to hold all the answers. It wasn’t like Itachiyama whose beauty brought calmness to your soul and silenced all your fears. It was entirely a beauty of itself, one that haunted you and prodded at your bones, picking your soul apart and gently sewing back them together.

Like an unstoppable force, like watching a car crash into another – it was hard to take your eyes off of it.

“Where are you taking me?” you broke the silence after a while, choosing to keep the windows rolled down. Beside you, Rintaro spared you a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Nodding, you propped your chin onto your arm. Now that you were awake, the events from the past few hours finally caught up to you. The meeting with Kuroo, Atsumu’s sex tape, being chased by Rintaro, and your call not reaching Kiyoomi – Kiyoomi. Gods. He must be so worried. But your phone’s battery died long ago, and there was a bigger matter at hand – Rintaro’s accusation, and the way he’d hid his hurt with a smirk.

It was a side of him you’d never seen before.

Sure, he’d been angry when you did anything that concerned Iris, or when you left for Itachiyama after his displeasure about it. But this time, he looked more hurt than angry, as if he couldn’t believe you would go so far.

You rolled the windows up. The sounds of the humming of the car and the breeze slipping through muted.

“Rin,” you mumbled, toying with your fingers in your lap. “I didn’t try to kill you, you know.”

Your husband snorted. “Oh, you didn’t? Could’ve fooled me. It’s not every day you see your wife’s new maid slipping something in my drink, but if you truly did not have anything to do with it, then I guess it’s safe to assume your maid is out to assassinate me,” grip tightening on the wheel, he forced himself to exhale through his nose. “Do you deny this?”

“Airi has nothing to do with this.”

“Do enlighten me, then, because I don’t know what to think of you anymore,” he gritted his teeth, and you were shocked into silence. It was quite the confession coming from him. “I have made mistakes. Many of them. I have hurt you, again and again, but do you really wish to end my life?” he shot you a look, only to turn his head away – staring out into the sea before you. You wondered if it’s because he couldn’t stand to look at you, or he didn’t want you to see whatever might show in his face.

“I didn’t think you could be so cruel, Princess.”

Your face fell, the light in your eyes dimming as his words sunk in. “I told her to crush some sleeping pills in your tea so I could sneak out without you noticing. I wasn’t trying to ‘kill’ you.”

“And where would you go without me? A lady like you should never leave the castle premises unsupervised,” he reminded, the edges of his lips curling into a dissatisfied smile. “Unless you don’t want me knowing who it is you’re meeting.”

Sighing, you let your head drop to your hands. “Enough with the accusations, Rin. How many times do I have to tell you I have never cheated on you?” you rolled your eyes at him, your arms crossed to your chest, irked. “If you really must know, I met up with Kuroo Tetsurou – yes, the man who wrote that article about your tryst and ruined your reputation. You know what I did? I paid him to disappear from this country, and to completely erase any traces of what he’d written. I did it for you. I did it because I no longer want to see you suffering from the hands of another, so don’t you dare go around treating me like I’m your enemy, because at the end of it all, I’m the only one on your side. Do you understand?”

It was a half lie, but a white lie in your defense. The end would justify the means. Rintaro didn’t have to know the whole truth, not when there was a chance he’d ruin your plans. He only needed to let his guard down, to completely trust you on this because that last part you would not lie about.

He could hurt you – take your heart and crush it until there was nothing left. But it would not change the fact that you were his wife, and he your husband. It wouldn’t change the fact you were bound by vows you’d spoken in front of Her Majesty, in front of the Gods they worshipped in a sacred chapel. You would never, and could never, go as far as to make Rintaro detestable in the eyes of others. He was yours to hate and love. No one else could take that right away from you. He simply wasn’t for the world to pick apart.

Silence clouds the car. With a quick glance, you saw his grip loosening on the steering wheel, his shoulders visibly relaxing as his brows pinched together. “You did that… for me?”

You scoffed. “You have no idea the things I would do for you.”

“Then why keep it a secret from me? I would’ve gone with you. I could’ve sorted it out myself.”

“You couldn’t. You’ve barely been touching any of your work ever since the scandal happened,” you pointed out, holding your hand up to flash him your ring – the one you never dared took off, not even in the shower, and especially not when Kiyoomi had been nudging his way into your heart. “I’m your wife. I promised to share the burden of the crown with you. If a time comes that you’re unable to handle the troubles coming your way, then I will step in and do it for you.”

Rintaro blinked rapidly, as if clearing away the images that troubled him. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, “I’m just… You said you hated me, and that you regretted marrying me. So when I saw Airi mess with my tea, I immediately thought you wanted me out of your life.”

You looked out the window. Pursing your lips, you couldn’t help but think to yourself – if only it were that easy.

“You’re my husband. I would be devastated if you died.”

Rintaro drove around for a few more minutes before finally arriving in a gated community. Although community was a stretch, considering there were no other houses around. Not a single person could be seen. The entire beach was closed off from that point on. He wouldn’t answer any of your questions either, simply smiling to himself as he drove past a grove of trees until you broke through – the sounds of the waves audible and muted, as if they were from a distance. Before you stood a large white mansion, hidden by the tall trees, but peeking just enough to be highlighted by the golden dawn.

“We’re here,” Rintaro announced, bouncing out of his seat to run around your side and open the door for you. You couldn’t help but snicker at his sudden chivalry. Nevertheless, you slipped your hand into his, following him as he led you to the pebbled walkway leading up into the house. “I bought this beach for us.”

“Rin, you can’t do that. The beaches should be open to the public.”

Rintaro squeezed your hand. There was a lightness to his step, almost as if he was floating through air – or maybe your reassurance had simply made his body feel lighter. “Indulge me a little, wife. Let me show you around first, and if you really don’t like it… then I’ll put it up for sale, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was hard to, anyway, when he struggled to open the doors as he refused to let go of your hand. After fumbling for the keys, he finally got them in and pushed the doors open.

You could see much from where you stood. At the break of dawn, the sun’s first golden rays began to dance across the tranquil surface of the sea, casting a gentle, shimmering glow that greeted the grand beach house with a tender embrace.

The luxurious abode, with its elegant arches and expensive terraces, stood proudly against the backdrop of the awakening sky. Its hues of pink and orange melded seamlessly into the lingering blue of the night. Your eyes widened, watching as the colors bounced off the water and reflected back onto the sturdy white pillars of the house’s exterior. The soft, ambient light illuminated its exquisite architecture, revealing intricate details and the soft contours of its stone façade.

Stepping onto the grounds for the first time, you let your hands run through the textures of the pillars, feeling its smoothened out surface. 

The house, a vision of opulence and warmth, beckoned you with its ethereal allure. Each window and glass wall, strategically placed, welcomed the sunrise with open arms, allowing the light to flood the interior spaces with a radiant glow. The reflections danced upon the surface of the pristine pool outside, playful patterns dancing along the walls and the ceiling. It made the entire house seem alive with its morning gentle touch.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat – stunned by the beauty of it all.

You moved towards the edge of the expansive backyard, where the manicured lawn stretched out like a verdant carpet leading directly to the soft sands of the secluded beach. The sound of the waves, a soothing melody, called out to you. It mingled with the rustling leaves of the palms that framed the house. The air, crisp and salty, invigorated your senses and filled you with a sense of profound peace and connection.

Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro was drunk on your expressions. He lit up each time you smiled at a corner, his heart blooming and swelling he felt it would burst out of his chest. For one of the few times in his life, he felt proud of himself.

“I bought this mansion a year after I started courting you,” he said, his gaze transfixed on the way your hands were still intertwined. It caused him to trail after you like a lost puppy; not that he minded. He just liked being here with you. With that thought in mind, he absentmindedly caressed your wedding ring with the pads of his thumb. “I didn’t have concrete plans in mind yet, but I knew I would end up marrying you someday, and the Palace didn’t seem like a good place for us to enjoy our married life. But here… we can live separately from the rules imposed on us. Here, we are not Princess or Prince. It could just be the two of us.”

You bit your lip, your heart hesitant. It fluttered at the sincerity of his words, swooned at the revelation he’d been planning this for years. You could imagine it – Rintaro walking through this property a year into your courtship, the young Prince nodding to himself because he just knew this place would be yours.

“It’s still mostly empty, of course. I didn’t want to decorate it without asking for your opinions, and I figured maybe you’d want to take the lead in that area,” he encouraged with a smile.

And really, who could say no to that? When he gave you such a beautiful house and handed you the reigns to do as you pleased, then you would turn this house into something you could call your home.

Every detail of the beach house was meticulously designed for both grandeur and intimacy. The spacious terraces offered the perfect setting for private dinners and joyful gatherings with family and friends, promising countless evenings of laughter and love under the starlit sky. You could already envision long, leisurely breakfasts on the balcony, the sea’s gentle murmur a constant, comforting presence.

You would sip your morning coffee in your nightgown, reading the newspaper, or letting your eyes close as you let the sea breeze gently wake you up from the remnants of your slumber. Behind you, your husband would sneak up in nothing but his sleep shirt, his voice deep and croaky with sleep laced to it. He would wrap his arms around your waist, coo good morning in your ears as he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

It was the perfect house to live the married life in.

The moment is too beautiful that it let the walls you’d put up slowly crumble. It gave way for your mind to entertain the thought of hope, of second chances, of a life where Rintaro apologized for everything he did and you forgave him for it. A life where he finally left Iris behind, and moved in here with you – being a loving husband and wife like he’d promised.

Regardless of his mistakes, you couldn’t deny he chose this haven with care.

He understood your yearning for a sanctuary that felt both majestic and personal. You could see his vision in every corner of the house – in the way the morning light filled the rooms, in the carefully carved openness that invited the outside world to become part of your home, and in the promise of countless memories waiting to be made within its walls.

“It’ll get very bright here in a few minutes,” he murmured, his voice echoing through the spacious expanse. “I know you hate dark places, so I wanted something that had a lot of room for sunlight.”

You hummed. “That was thoughtful of you.”

“I only had you in mind when I was looking for our place.”

Tugging at your hand, you let Rintaro drag you upstairs and show you around. “This is our bedroom,” he gestured, and you stepped inside, glancing back at him and down at your intertwined hands in a silent query. Rintaro smiled, nodding as he gently let go of your hand to let you look around the room.

Taking small, careful steps away from him, you let your eyes take in the sight before you. The room was a sanctuary of tranquility, bathed in the soft, warm hues of the rising sun. The bed, dressed in crisp white linens with accents of deep red, invited you to sink into its comfort. Candles flickered softly on a low, modern nightstand, casting a gentle, ambient glow that complemented the natural light streaming through the expansive glass wall.

The true masterpiece, however, was the view.

The entire far wall of the room was made of glass, offering an unobstructed vista of the ocean beyond. Palm trees gently swayed in the morning breeze, framing the horizon perfectly.

You moved closer to the glass, your heart swelling with awe and contentment. Outside, on the spacious terrace, two elegant lounge chairs awaited, promising peaceful mornings and serene evenings spent with the one you loved. The lush greenery surrounding the room blended seamlessly with the view, making it feel as though you lived in harmony with nature.

“Want to see the best part?”

You giggled. “You mean to tell me something could get better than this?”

“Of course. You know I’m only choosing the best for you.”

Leading you into another room at the end of the hall, Rintaro smirked – proud and barely holding back his excitement as he swung the door open. As you stepped inside, a gasp of pure delight escaped your lips – followed by bubbling laughter in disbelief.

The morning sun streamed through the grand, arched windows, casting a warm, golden light that danced sprightly across the room. The room seemed almost enchanted, a perfect blend of nature and comfort, invite you to lose yourself in your own world and let the time pass you by.

Towering bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with volumes of all kinds, promising endless hours of exploration and discovery. The rich, earthy scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. A graceful spiral staircase wound its way up to a second level, where more books awaited, their spines gleaming in the soft light.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the cozy seating area, where a plush of sofa beckoned you to sink into its depths and get lost in a story. The soft, muted colors of the cushions and throws added a touch of warmth, making the space feel lived-in and inviting. A quaint reading lamp stood nearby, ready to cast its gentle glow over late night reading sessions. Behind you, you could hear Rintaro move through the room as well – gently picking up knick-knacks placed along the way.

“–And here is your reading corner, or… whatever you’d like it to be really. If you want to crochet, or paint with Tobio, you can use this room.”

“I thought you said this place was empty,” you joked, gazing up at the myriad of books displayed.

“Yes, it is,” smiling to himself, he leant against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest, content to let you indulge yourself by exploring. “But I made sure to fill this place up first, as I figured this would be the room you’d spent the most time in. I went ahead and collected all the books I know you liked, along with other things I thought you would enjoy.”

There it was again – the thumping of your heart over his words.

It was too easy to get carried away, especially when Rintaro was being unnecessarily sweet. It almost felt as if… nothing was wrong at all. And for a moment – just for now – you let yourself forget everything and focused on the present. With your heart tucked and hidden away for safety under your sleeve, you pointedly averted your gaze from your husband. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him like that – content, unguarded, with hooded eyes watching you tenderly. Like he was in love with you, and he meant it when he said he wanted no one else to spend his future with.

You turned your attentions back to the room, the lush greenery that adorned the space, with ferns and potted plants that brought a taste of the outside world in.

You could already imagine yourself curled up on the sofa with a book, the sounds of the waves gently crashing in the background, or perhaps sitting by the window on a rainy day – the patter of raindrops providing a soothing soundtrack to your literary adventures.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell in adoration, even as you tried so hard to fight against it.

The Prince had carefully curated this heaven for you. He’d ensured you could have a space where you would spend countless mornings in, a cup of tea in hand, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Afternoons would be spent exploring the vast worlds in the many books that lined the shelves, each one a new journey waiting to be embarked upon.

This reading room was more than just a space; it was an escape from the world. A place where you could retreat and recharge, surrounded by the things you loved most. As you stood there, bathed in the soft morning light, you were bombarded by a mix of emotions – an internal debate whether to feel elated or depressed.

How could someone know you so well, and still hurt you in the process? Love truly was a dangerous thing.

However, you pushed that thought out of your mind. You did not want any arguments tainting this space, this home. Rintaro’s efforts didn’t deserve to be shattered, either. You would save it for another time. For now, you would explore every inch and corner of this house. “And here’s the backyard – plenty of space for our future kids to play in. I’m thinking twins, one boy and one girl, and then we’ll stop trying for another. Two little devils should be enough. The boy needs to be the eldest though, so he can protect his little Princess,” his eyes lit up, and you can see it already.

Rintaro must’ve seen it, too – the scene of your children running around, chasing other. Your little boy would be screaming at the top of his lungs, your little girl blowing bubbles as her hair bounced around her cute little face with each tiny step she took. If she ever tripped, her brother would immediately be there for her. He’d cradle her soft cheeks in his equally small hands, wiping her tears away and telling her it’d be okay. And then they would run to their parents for comfort – Rintaro would bring them into his arms, pressing kisses to their foreheads before he brought them back to their mama. Then, you’d pull out the first-aid kit, plastering band-aids on every scraped knee and kissing all the boo-boos away.

It was a beautiful thing to imagine. Letting your kids grow up in a beautiful place, with a loving father who would stop at nothing to ensure their happiness, building a family.

It put a smile to your face. “You do know I can’t control who comes out first, right?”

“Yes, but a man could dream,” he shrugged and faced your way, his eyes softening as he scanned your face. You didn’t know why Rintaro looked so beautiful in that moment. The picture perfect image of a Prince Charming, his hazel eyes seeing things you couldn’t, his smile hesitant yet hopeful. “I hope our little girl looks like you. She’d be very pretty just like her Mom.”

Heat rushed at the nape of your neck. It was a flood of emotions all at once – flustered, flattered, frustrated.

You immediately pointed your body in a different direction. Sliding the glass doors aside, you kicked off your heels and sunk your feet into the grass. It was a much needed reprieve after walking and driving for hours with those darned heels. Soon enough, you could hear Rintaro trailing behind you – a quick, curious glance letting you know he’d picked up your heels, your shoes dangling on his crooked fingers.

“Can we have a dog?”

“We could have a dog,” he grinned, and then gestured for you to come follow him. Feet sinking into the sand, your hands found solace in his bicep. Rintaro practically puffs up with male pride the moment your nails sunk into his skin. It was silly, enough to make you roll your eyes, but you kept on walking and walking – the sounds of sand crunching beneath your feet and the delicious warmth emanating from your husband a great way to start the morning. Eventually, you’d made it to the front of the house, where the crystalline pool stood just before the sea announced its presence.

“And in the beachfront, well, we could do pretty much anything. Barbecue, invite friends over for dinner. Oh, and there’s a wine cellar in the basement. I think I had that filled up, too. Do you want to have a quick drink before we go?” Shaking your head at him, Rintaro nods, gnawing at his lip before he decides – fuck it – and finally lets his hand rest on top of yours.

The position was oddly intimate. You weren’t embracing each other, yet you’d never been so close to him before. Your sides pressed against one another, your hand curled onto his arm, with his large, veiny hands caressing yours. It’s a little too perfect, and it makes you just a little too in love. Unable to help it, and drunk in the serenity of it all, you let your head fall back to his shoulder. Eyes closed, breaths shallow – your heartbeat in sync with his.

Thump, thump, thump. The schwaa of the waves. The whoosh of the wind.

It was like heaven on earth.

Above you, Rintaro cleared his throat. “So? What do you think? Is it to your liking? If it isn’t, I could always look for a different house–”

“It’s beautiful, Rin. Thank you.”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you told him, opening your eyes to smile up at him, your cheek still smooshed against his broad shoulders. “It’d be a perfect home for us.”

“O-Okay,” he blushed, averting his gaze from you as he stared at the sea instead. The motion made you chuckle. It wasn’t always Rintaro could be such a flustered, affected man, but you adored the rare times when he was. Just then, an idea popped up in your head and you grinned, tapping his shoulder with your nails.

“Hey. Why don’t we have a little housewarming party to make it feel more like home?”

“We can?”

“We can do whatever we want, Rin,” you reminded him, and then scrunched your nose as you thought of the whole process. Furniture shopping, talking with interior designers, adding your personal touch, bringing in some of your most important things to this beach house that was literally miles away from the Palace. “–Although decorating it would take a lot of time and you must be busy–”

Rintaro’s eyes widened in panic. “I’m not busy. Well, I am, but I’ll make time. Let’s – Let’s decorate. I want to turn this into our home, too.”

You squeezed his bicep, warmth flooding your senses.

As you wandered through the house, your heart swelled with love and gratitude. The beach house wasn’t just a place to live in; it was a dream woven into reality. A testament to the life you would build together. Standing there, bathed in the tender embrace of the sunrise, you felt an unbreakable bond to this place, knowing that it would be the backdrop to your love story – however complicated it may be – a place where you both would grow, laugh, and find solace in each other for the years to come.

For the next few months following your arrival, you and Rintaro dedicated yourselves to transforming the beach house into a true home. It was a long, arduous process – infusing every corner with your touch, and Rintaro with his love for knick-knacks. Countless mornings were spent wandering through local markets, hand in hand, searching for pieces that spoke to you – the future you would create.

It was a great opportunity to fool the media, too, a silent declaration to the world that your marriage would not be swayed by petty rumors.

Well, they were not just rumors, but the Queen seemed ardently pleased by the amassed support.

Rintaro, suddenly the considerate partner and doting husband, would often pause to hold up a delicate vase or an intricately carved wooden sculpture, his eyes seeking your approval. You, in turn, would smile and nod, trusting his impeccable taste and loving the way he always seemed to know what would make your heart sing.

It was as if he knew what you’d like before you even said it out loud. Maybe it was because he’d spent two years of his life courting you that he now knew you like the back of his hand.

Whatever it was, the media ate it up. The article regarding his cheating scandal eventually became nothing but measly gossip. You remained in contact with Kuroo, however, his article about Iris only waiting to drop at your signal.

It should’ve been released months ago. You could’ve ruined her already, snatched your husband back right under her nose – you just couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not when she’d been pointedly avoiding Rintaro, and your husband was acting like he forgot she existed. Could it be both of them couldn’t handle the criticism, after all? Did they care more about their reputations and image than their ‘passionate love affair’?

But then again, neither of them wanted to be exposed for their trysts.

It was all Atsumu’s doing.

And that actress – poor Hiroda Yuki – still remained oblivious to the sex tape you hid under your closet. A secret you would bury there forever, a secret you’d take with you to your grave. You hadn’t heard news of her getting knocked up, and her career was still soaring. For now, you had nothing to worry about. It seemed peaceful – for now.

In the meantime, you dedicated your afternoons in the arrangement and rearrangement of everything you’ve collected – snow globes from your trips overseas with your parents, Rintaro’s random collection of weapons and key chains from his own adventures. The living room, with its expansive glass walls and view of the endless ocean, became a canvas for you to experiment with. There were no rules here.

You placed a soft, oversized rug in the center, its deep blues and greens echoing the colors of the sea. Comfortable chairs and sofas were positioned to invite conversation and relaxation, while vibrant cushions and throws added splashes of color and warmth. You insisted on color, ensuring that the beach house had to be vibrant and thrumming with life. You refused to let it be like the Palace – dull yet overwhelming with all its arching marble statues and golden chandeliers.

And then the dining area, envisioned as the heart of your home, where family and friends would gather, received special attention. You chose a large, rustic wooden table, its surface polished to a warm glow. Around it, you placed mismatched chairs (which greatly bothered Kiyoomi when you sent him photos), but you told him that each had its own story and character. The space was an organized mess, eclectic yet coherent. Above the table, Rintaro hung a chandelier of delicate glass orbs that cast a soft, magical light during evening meals.

The master bedroom was a different tale itself. It was the room you and Rintaro spent the most time on. You established several rules before proceeding, drilling it into his head that:

Rule no. 1: He was not allowed to bring any women inside. (He scoffed at it, offended, but agreed anyway.)

Rule no. 2: Lavender essential oils were the only scents allowed. Vanilla scents were forbidden. (He didn’t understand why you were so vehemently against it, but again – whatever makes the wife happy, was what he said. That alone made you question… did he not know what Iris smelled like? He knew all your favorite perfumes by heart, yet could not recognize the distinctness of vanilla? You quickly dropped the subject.)

And finally, Rule no. 3: No arguments inside the bedroom.

(Rintaro was barely able to hide his shock at you suggesting it. His eyes widened for a moment, an expression he quickly schooled into that of nonchalance. “Of course,” he’d said, “Any conversation that may require a debate will always be had outside. Never here.” To which you replied, “Never here, Rintaro. This is our space. We will not be enemies here.)

There it was, the master bedroom, a sanctuary of tranquility and intimacy. Soft, sheer curtains were chosen to filter the morning light. The bed was adorned with luxurious linens and a variety of textured pillows, making it a perfect retreat after long days spent exploring the island or entertaining the guests you would have over.

Personal touches, like framed photographs of your wedding, and the candid ones he’d taken of you each time he called for you in the Yuzuru Estate, were placed on the nightstands.

All that was left was to invite his brothers over for the housewarming party.

You and Rintaro decided to keep it a secret for now. After all, it wasn’t every day that the brothers all gathered together for dinner outside the Palace. You debated inviting the Queen over, too, but after that recent fiasco and her snide remarks about your mother, you were heavily against it. Rintaro, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. He just wanted to spend time with his brothers – saying they’ve never done that before. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for them to rekindle their brotherhood.

It sounded like an absurd idea at first, you admitted. You didn’t have to go so far to help your husband get along with his own brothers, but whether you liked it or not, you were married – and marriage often came with demanding responsibilities.

Of course, there was still the issue of Iris: would she be invited or not?

You gauged it for the first few weeks. Waiting, listening, and watching with a careful eye on how Rintaro would be acting. You’d also piloted the agenda, peering over it like a hawk to see if he would sneak in a thing or two. Or maybe he had a room for her. But – much to your surprise – there was none. There were exactly nine guest rooms; one for each brother and their wife, and one for the Queen or your parents, whoever wanted to visit.

Still, it made you turn your nose upwards.

You didn’t fancy the thought of Kiyoomi sharing a room with Iris. In fact, the image of them sharing the same bed was enough to make your stomach turn upside down. But knowing Kiyoomi? He’d probably make her sleep on the floor than be anywhere near her.

Finally, after some finishing touches, you both sent out the invitations.

The housewarming party was an intimate, private event. It was challenging at first – their schedules did not align with each other, and Prince Wakatoshi was not warming up to the idea. However, his son, Wakashi, badly wanted to see the sea. That was all it took before he’d agreed, and soon, even the busybody Shinsuke accepted the invitation – with the promise Airi could also come.

Pride bloomed in your chest. It seemed like an impossible feat at the beginning, gathering all the Princes into one place. But they’re all here now – Keiji was reading books to Wakashi, Tobio is playing beach volleyball with Tooru, Rintaro, and Atsumu. Osamu declined his brothers’ invitation as soon as he caught sight of your kitchen, pushing past his blond-haired twin and declaring that your kitchen was now his. You all laughed about it, and Osamu hasn’t left since.

Wakatoshi was there in your living room, cuddled up on the couch with his wife, Camilla. They both snoozed in peace, lulled by the Princes’ distant shouts and yells from their game. Behind them, Shinsuke crouched over the paperwork he’d brought with him, Airi happily gazing at her Prince as she wiped glasses and silverware.

Kiyoomi and Iris, for some reason, did not participate in any of the activities. The Second Prince has worn a stormy expression the moment he parked his car, his wife in tow. Iris didn’t look great either – her face pale and lips chapped.

You made a mental note to ask him about it later. For now, you would enjoy yourself.

Stepping out of the living room, you walked past the pool and to the beach. The Princes were still playing on a 2v2, Tobio and Tooru on one team, Rintaro and Atsumu on the other. As you got there, your sundress puffing up from the wind, you noticed Maiko was already on one of the lawn chairs – smiling fondly at her husband who scored once more.

You followed her gaze. Now that was a sight, indeed. All the Princes were shirtless – their muscles rippling with each jump or aggressive spike of the ball. They’d already been tanned after playing under the sun for hours, their healthy golden glow illuminated by the setting sun. Rintaro himself had you struggling to look away. Wearing sun shades, a black compression arm sleeve, and his shorts hanging low on his hips – it suddenly felt hot despite the breeze.

Shaking your head to yourself, you tore your gaze away from him and sat next to the Princess. “Maiko,” you greeted, handing her a watermelon juice.

“Your Highness!” she beamed, gladly accepting the drink and playing with the umbrella before she continued, “Thank you for having us over.”

“It was my pleasure,” Smiling, you watched her closely, not missing the way her cheeks flamed each time Tooru scored and he looked her way. The movement was subtle, barely noticeable from another’s eye, but it was clear in that moment it meant the world to Maiko. Beside you, the Princess hid her giddy smile behind her drink, her bare toes curling into the sand beneath you. “So. You and Tooru seem to have gotten along more.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” she scrunched her nose, “He was really worried for you, you know. He wouldn’t stop telling me how he was going to beat the Crown Prince up. And when that article went out…”

“We’ve moved past that.”

“You have?” she perked up, “I mean, that’s good. Have you forgiven him?”

You took another sip of your drink, and then snorted. “Of course not. But I think we’re at this point in our marriage where we’re pretending to be happily married, and it’s hard for me to not play my part,” when Maiko titled her head to the side, confused, you gestured to the grand abode behind you. “He’s bought me this house, helped me decorate it. We spent many nights talking about how we’d like it to be, and now we’re all here. His brothers, their wives – everyone is laughing and having fun. How could I ruin it by dwelling on the past?”

Maiko didn’t look entirely convinced. You couldn’t blame her – you weren’t very convinced yourself.

Things were going a little too smoothly for your liking. Until now, you still had your doubts that everything was suddenly okay, that Rintaro and Iris have suddenly decided to end their relationship. But you’d asked around, bribed the maids in Belleview Manor, and they all said the same thing.

Rintaro and Iris have not spoken to each other ever since your return.

It felt as if Rintaro had been sincere when he said he only slept with her because he felt lonely with you. A pathetic excuse, of course, something only an imbecile would fall for. But you’d long accepted that Rintaro was an oddity and complexity of itself.

The only way to truly understand him was to let him show all versions of himself, both the good and the bad, before you could see which one of him you could love the most.

And this Rintaro?

The loyal, caring husband who’d given you this home? The one who wouldn’t stop stealing kisses even when no one was looking? The one who proved to you that the master bedroom upstairs indeed had very soft, luxurious beds by fucking you in it all the way until the morning?

You liked that Rintaro very much.

“I’m always here for you,” Maiko said after a moment, her smile genuine as she gazed upon the secluded area. “The house is beautiful, by the way. I can see why you looked so happy ever since the Crown Prince showed this place to you.”

“It’s our home. It was the best thing he could’ve given me.”

Saying it loud felt like an accomplishment. Your mother had always told you that you would be great at managing your own house someday. It felt surreal to see with your own eyes that she’d been right.

“To be honest, I never expected I would have moments like this,” quipped Maiko, her smile wavering as she plucked out the cocktail umbrella. “Before I married Tooru, it was lonely in the Rai Estate. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father married the next woman who presented herself to him. Sometimes I think he did that because he wanted me to grow up with a mother, but my stepmother was never fond of me. It was a lonely childhood, I must admit,” she confessed with a sarcastic chuckle, lifting her head to stare at her husband. “But then Prince Tooru came along. The Queen started bringing him along whenever she visited my father, and the Prince and I would always have playdates. I remember I would cry each time they had to return to the Palace.”

You tipped your head to the side, curious. “The Queen brought Tooru to the Rai Estate?”

Maiko nodded. “Yes. You didn’t know? Her Majesty is my godmother,” she informed, absentmindedly spinning the ring on her finger. “She was close friends with my father, and they remained in contact even when she married the King. I’d say she was the closest I ever got to having a mother figure, but Her Majesty is too busy to waste her time looking after a little girl.”

“I see,” you murmured, and reached over to clasp her bare shoulder with a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry about your mother, Maiko. I hadn’t known she’d already passed.”

“It’s alright, not a lot of people mourned her death anyway. And people easily forgot she existed because my father remarried very soon,” she shrugged, a forlorn look crossing her sharp features. “My father said I don’t look like her. Sometimes, I think that fact made it easier for him to move on, because he never saw her in me.”

“Did your father love her?”

“Probably not. You know how marriages between nobles are; I wouldn’t be surprised if it was arranged. He never talked about her either, so I wouldn’t know.”

You hummed to yourself, “Does the Queen still visit Lord Rai?”

“Not lately, no. She got occupied handling the Kingdom’s affairs when His Majesty passed away, but they still send each other letters during birthdays. I’m not sure the Queen has written back to my father in a while, though,” as quickly as she said it, Maiko’s back straightened, her free hands waving frantically in the air. “Oh, I hope this doesn’t change the way you see me, Princess. I promise the Queen does not hold any special favors to me.”

“Not at all, Maiko. You’re still the same Princess in my eyes.”

“TAKE THAT!”

Both of your heads snapped in the Princes’ direction. Tobio, pumping his arms in the air as Atsumu tugged at his blond locks from the other side of the net. Tooru was running around – or more like bouncing – while your husband was down on one knee, panting heavily with sweat dripping down his chest.

Before you could process what was going on, Tooru bolted for Maiko’s direction, whooping and hollering as he picked her up and twirled her. Maiko’s squeal was lodged in her chest upon Tooru’s crushing hug. He kept spinning her, enough to have Maiko wobbly on her feet when he finally put her down, holding her at an arm’s length away as he exclaimed, “Did you see that? Rintaro couldn’t receive my serve!”

“It was just a lucky serve!” defended your husband.

“Yeah, right.”

Rintaro turned to you, his ears turning red as he stood up and dusted the sand of his abs. “It was a lucky serve.”

You put your hand up to your mouth, concealing your laughter. “I’m sure it was.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the horizon, the air buzzed with excitement and the scent of blooming flowers from the garden. The sound of waves crashing softly in the background added a serene rhythm to the lively conversations that flowed as effortlessly as the wine. The brothers, their bond evident in their playful banter and shared stories, mingled around the spacious terrace, their laughter mingling with the music that floated through the air.

You eventually left Maiko, seeing as the Princes did not have any plans on stopping their game anytime soon. You didn’t want to rush them into dinner either, not when Rintaro looked like he was having the time of his life.

Dusting sand off your dress, you took yours and Maiko’s empty glasses back inside. Airi and Osamu were still in the kitchen; the former smiling at you when you handed her the glasses, while Osamu remained elbow-deep in some dough. You left them soon to their devices, heading out of the kitchen when you nearly bumped into a firm chest.

“Hey.”

“Kiyoomi,” you blinked up at him, joy radiating from every pore now that he was here. Kiyoomi looked handsome in just his cream, short-sleeved linen shirt, his curls tousled and falling beautifully to frame his face. Until now, you were still beguiled by his striking beauty. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I heard you’d been occupied with some things in Itachiyama.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, and I would never decline an invitation from you,” he said softly, dipping his head so you could hear him better. His close proximity set your heart racing, and before you noticed it, you had your dress balled into your fists. “You did a great job with the place. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” you breathed out, voice light and airy as you gestured outside. “Are you not going to join your brothers in their game?”

Kiyoomi shook his head, a mischievous smirk gracing his handsome features. “If I did, then Rintaro’s team would lose.”

“Oh, are you a better player than him?”

“I’m better than him in all aspects,” he declared, offhandedly gesturing to their brother on the couch.  “Though I could never hit as hard as Wakatoshi. You should’ve seen him in his prime – he was a monster as long as he had the ball in his hands.”

“I didn’t know you played volleyball, too.”

“We used to play a lot when we were younger. Before duties called.”

You nodded, silently escorting him out of the kitchen. You could already feel Airi’s gaze burning holes at the back of your head. “How is Iris, by the way? I don’t think I’ve seen her around.”

“She said she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s been holed up in bed ever since,” informed Kiyoomi, scratching his cheek in thought. “Did she have a fight with Rin?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think… it’s because Rintaro is ignoring her, and she might be upset about that,” wrinkling your nose, you raised both hands in the air as a form of surrender. “But let’s not talk about unpleasant things. How was your trip to Itachiyama? And Kanami! How is she? I didn’t get to properly say goodbye to her last time.”

Kiyoomi’s lip twitched with amusement. “She’s fine, just a little mad that I took you home without informing her beforehand. She really wanted to spend more time with you.”

I didn’t want to leave either, you almost told him, biting back your tongue at the last moment.

Finding yourself alone with the older Prince, the air thickened with unspoken tension. A palpable static seemed to crackle between you two. Every glance exchanged was laden with unvoiced words, and every accidental touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. He stood close to you, his presence comforting and warm, yet an invisible barrier held you apart – neither brave enough to bridge the gap.

Your heart raced as you felt the weight of his presence beside you, the magnetic pull urging you closer. The silence was almost deafening – filled with the potential of what could be said, yet the fear of breaking it kept you mute.

Finally, Kiyoomi, with a nervous swallow and a shy, almost boyish smile, broke the silence.

“How was the meeting with Kuroo?” he began, his voice soft but trembling with the same tension you felt.

You told him everything without a detail to spare. Your words were hushed, voice barely above a whisper in case anyone accidentally walked in on you. Kiyoomi nodded as he took everything in, the tension on his shoulders increasing. “I see. Has he contacted you ever since?”

“The last message I got from him was from a few days ago. He says he’s got everything he needs – he’s just waiting for the green light.”

“So we’re just waiting for him to drop the bomb.”

“Practically, yes,” you agreed, when an idea formed in your head. Clapping your hands together, you tugged at Kiyoomi’s sleeve. “Actually, could you come with me? I wanted to show you something.”

Kiyoomi wasn’t able to say his response before you’re dragging him upstairs. You already knew the house like the back of your hand, confident you could navigate through it even with your eyes closed. Once you’d reached your destination, you swung the doors open – arms outstretched to show it off. “This is my reading corner, a library of sorts. And here–” you led him to a wall you’d intentionally kept empty, “–is your corner.”

“My corner?”

“Yes, you know, like how everyone has their own space in your library back at the farmhouse.”

“That’s a family house. This is your house with your husband.”

“Rintaro bought it because he wanted to have a safe space with his family, and you’re his brother. That makes you my family too, doesn’t it?”

Your smile was warm, sincere and elated upon presenting him his ‘corner.’ Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you for not noticing the fleeting hurt in his eyes, his disappointment quickly masked with a practiced, cordial nod.

“Family. Right,” he echoed, “I’ll make sure to add my own things someday here. Thank you.”

“FUCK YEAH!” roared Atsumu from below. All too quickly, the moment is broken. You and Kiyoomi stepped away from each other, both releasing a breath you didn’t noticed you held.

“I should go–”

“Of course,” Kiyoomi agreed, his nods a tad too hurried. He’s looking at everywhere but you now. “I’ll follow in a bit.”

You were hesitant to leave. It’d felt like forever since you’d last spoken to Kiyoomi. Ever since that night your call did not push through when Rintaro chased after you, Kiyoomi had been restless. He’d text you every morning and night, without fail, to reassure himself you did not come to harm. He was sweet – undeniably so – and it felt like a waste. Everything did. You couldn’t spend time with him, or speak to him freely like you did in Itachiyama anymore. Here, in Inarizaki, the cameras devoured everything you and Rintaro did.

It came without question you’d unknowingly distanced yourself from the Second Prince.

With a heart heavy of doubt, you exited the room. The last you saw of Kiyoomi was him slouched over his corner, his eyes closed and his head resting on his arm.

You skipped down the stairs, careful of the ankle-length of your sundress. The living room was already a mess when you got there – Atsumu was shaking Wakatoshi awake by the shoulders, screaming that he’d won against ‘stupid Tooru.’ Tooru, on the other hand, was being comforted by his wife, a pout permanent on his face.

“Hey,” an arm wrapped itself around your waist. Tensing, you quickly smiled when you saw it was just Rintaro – now dressed in a plain white button-up, the top three buttons left open to cool himself.

“Hey back.”

“Why didn’t you watch me play?”

You almost laughed at him. It was a comical sight – your tall husband slouching and pouting like a kicked puppy. Shaking your head at him, you let him pull you into an embrace, his arms engulfing you completely. You’re wholly warm like this, his head on top of yours, your cheek on his warm chest that’s still slightly damp with sweat.

“We have guests over, Rin. I have to make sure everyone’s settled.”

“But I played good,” he whines above you, his head dipping to playfully nibble at your ear. Rintaro crushes you in the embrace, your bodies pressed close enough that the growing tent in his trousers poked you through your sundress. Breath hitching, your tilted your neck to give him more access – warily looking out for onlookers. Thankfully, his brothers were all occupied with searching for snacks.

“I’m not inviting my brothers over next time. They take up too much of your attention.”

“Don’t be weird,” you teased, “I’m all yours tonight.”

Tipping your chin to look him in the eye, Rintaro presses a tender kiss at the insides of your wrist. “All mine for a lifetime, hopefully.”

“We’re married. I don’t think we have much of a choice in that aspect.”

When Rintaro smiled, his whole face lit up, his teeth flashing wickedly. Squeezing your waist, his eyes took in the warm, golden lights of your house. The bustling noise his brothers made, and the aroma of dinner being prepared. “We really outdid ourselves, huh. This place turned out better than I expected.”

You patted his firm stomach. “Should we all celebrate with some dinner?”

Nodding, Rintaro pressed a kiss to your forehead before disappearing in the kitchen. Atsumu followed not long after, complaining that ‘Samu was taking ‘too darned long’ preparing his food. You can’t help the smile making its way into your face. Rintaro was right; you really outdid yourselves. The night was a success – everyone was happy, and it finally felt like everything was normal.

“Nee-chan,” Tobio appeared before you, a towel wrapped around his neck. His grin is bright, cheeks flushed from the game and still breathing heavily. “Thank you for the party. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun before.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Tobio,” you beamed at him, watching from behind him as Wakatoshi shook his head at all the noise his brothers made – not missing the way his lips curled just the slightest when his son joined in on the joyous atmosphere.

“You should teach me how to play volleyball someday.”

“Of course!” Tobio said, a little eagerly. Just then, his eyes dimmed, his smile wavering as he approached you, a hand cupped at the sides of his mouth. “But sis… are you sure you’re okay with Rintaro? He seems oddly clingy to you today. If he bothers you, let me know, okay? I’ll beat him up. I’ll ask Shinsuke-nii to help me too–”

“Calm down. No one’s getting beaten up today. Let’s just enjoy dinner, alright?”

Tobio sulked, his shoulders closing in together with a frown. However, all that disappeared when Osamu and Airi appeared with dinner. Within minutes, all of you were situated in the long table. Everyone dug in, a mumbled ‘thanks’ and a quick prayer led by Wakatoshi.

Beside you, Rintaro squeezed your thigh before standing up. The scraping of his chair alerted everyone – multiple pairs of heads turning your way as he raised a glass.

“I wanted to make a toast – to thank everyone for coming despite their busy schedules. This home – our home – means the world to me, and there’s no one else but family who I’d rather share this moment with. I want to thank my wife, too, for bringing light into my life,” he gestured your way, causing a bout of sniggers coming from Atsumu. You rolled your eyes and decided to ignore him. “Also, I am very happy to announce that the scandal has been officially cleared. The writer of that article has left the country, and the media is no longer attacking me. I am officially an honorable man again.”

“To honor?” Osamu raised his wine with a snort, and everyone glared at him. “Oh, my bad, I thought that’s what we were toasting for.”

“Osamu,” warned Shinsuke.

“To good memories,” you announced, followed by a chorus of echoes, “And to family.” Pointing your drink in Kiyoomi’s way, the Prince raised his drink, his small smile hidden behind the glass.

“To family.”

As twilight deepened into night, the garden lights twinkled like stars, and the gathering moved inside to the cozy warmth of the living room. Stories and laughter continued late into the evening, the house filled with the comforting sounds of family and the promise of many more cherished moments to come.

It was a night of celebration, not just of a new home, but of the bonds that made it a true haven—a place where love, laughter, and the warmth of family would forever reside.

It was a moment you would cherish while it lasted.

Everyone headed straight for the wine cellar after dinner.

It caused a ruckus – half of the Princes were passed out drunk in their rooms, while the rest stayed up playing Mario Kart. It had been Tobio’s idea, and with Rintaro eagerly joining in, it soon turned into the competitive bout it was now. Whoever lost would skinny dip in the pool without turning the heater on.

You shook your head at their antics.

You cleaned up after everyone, Maiko and Camilla apologizing that they wanted to tend to their drunk husbands and couldn’t help. You quickly waved them away, unbothered. If anything, you appreciated how the noise slowly dissipated – leaving you alone with Kiyoomi who’d volunteered to help clean up. The silence is comfortable as you maneuvered around the dining room.

“Your Highness!” exclaimed Airi, wiping her hands on her apron as she rushed to you both. “Please, leave that behind, I’ll take care of it!”

As gently as you could, you snatched back the wet rug from her hands. “Airi, darling, you can go ahead and rest. I’ll take over here.”

“Oh but Princess, I could never! I’ll clean everything up–”

Kiyoomi smiled at her. “It’s okay, Airi. I’m sure Shinsuke’s been dying to talk to you, too,” Airi flushed red, causing the Prince to rumble in laughter beside you. “Go. We’ll handle this.”

“T-Thank you.”

Airi dashed upstairs, sending you both one last grateful glance before disappearing.

Guilt washed over you at the sight of her. Airi and Kita seemed to be happy together, but you knew the harsh reality that the chances of them working out were low. Not only was she a maid, but she had completely nothing to her name – no family, no college degree, and had a mouth that required dire control. At least here in the privacy of your home, they would receive no criticism, but as soon as you all returned home to the Palace… you sighed.

You couldn’t tell whether you were comforted at the thought you were not the only one suffering when it came to love.

You’re elbow deep in the sink washing the dishes, Kiyoomi at your side silently wiping the plates, when you remembered an empty seat at the table. “Iris didn’t come down for dinner. Should I bring her some leftovers?”

Kiyoomi grumbled, uninterested. “I’m sure she’ll come around once she’s hungry, and that should be soon. She’s had a mad appetite lately.”

Speaking of the devil, a light tap came from the countertops. You whipped your head at the soft, lilting voice. Iris stood a few feet away from you, a basket covered with red cloth held in front of her stomach. She looked sheepish; her brown hair falling down her in graceful waves, but her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d been crying the entire time.

You snuck a glance at Kiyoomi, questioning, but he merely shrugged, turning his back to her and resuming with his task.

“Your Highness. May I speak with you?” her eyes darted to her husband’s figure, shifting from foot to foot. “Alone?”

“Of course. Excuse me for a moment,” bowing to Kiyoomi, you quickly washed your hands and followed Iris. She led you past the living room and out to the pools. The Princes’ shouts and banters became nothing but background noise. There, Iris situated herself in the picnic table under the willow tree, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

She nudged the basket your way, lifting the red cloth to reveal… pastries? “I baked these cookies for you this morning before we left the Palace. Please, have some. Consider it my peace offering.”

You fell silent. Mouth opening and closing as you searched for the right words, you settled for a forced smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Iris gnawed on her lip, and dragged her chair closer to you. Much to your surprise, her hands landed on your knee, her big, green eyes pleading. “Listen, Princess, I know we got off on the wrong footing, and I really want to put that behind us and start new.”

“Uh,” you blinked back, “O-Okay?”

“I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I didn’t mean for Rintaro’s lies to drag on and go this far, and if you must know, I never supported him on his plan–”

“Why?” you didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh. But it did, and you tilted your head to the side, oddly calm as you asked, “Why don’t you support him? Don’t you want to be his?”

Iris’ bravado faltered for a minute.

“I-I did at one point. It gets tiring having to hide your relationship, you know? But his plans seemed too absurd to me, and it sounded impossible that he could achieve it.”

“Do you think he’s not fit to be King?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied,” you reiterated, scanning her face for answers – for the truth – when realization dawned on you. Leaning back, you flicked her hands away from your lap, lips curling in distaste. “You look down on him, Iris. You don’t think he’s a capable Prince at all.”

Iris clenched her jaw in an attempt to bite back a retort. “He has his many great qualities, but sometimes the Crown Prince loses touch of what is real and what is not,” she said, her placid tone betraying the fire burning in her eyes. “This is why I’m hoping we can be friends and start anew, Princess. I’m letting you know I’m breaking up with Rin. In fact, we have not been talking as of lately–”

“You fucked him in my bed lately. Do you really expect I would believe you?”

Her gaze was ice cold as it cut to you. “That was months ago, and he was the one who brought me there.”

“Let’s say he did. But who’s to say you did not seduce him beforehand?”

“He said his room felt lonely without you there, and he brought me for company. Don’t you realize, Princess? Your husband longs for you more than you know.”

Unable to help it, you chortled out a laugh. “What, are you saying he loves me?”

“He might,” she gritted her teeth, “But he needs to get over me first. That’s why I’m letting him go – you’re a kind person and you don’t deserve to be treated as second best. I’m putting my heart aside so you can finally enjoy your marriage.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re doing this for me? How very benevolent of you, Princess.”

“It’s really not that hard to believe I want you to be happy.”

You shook your head, refusing to believe it was this easy. “Why the sudden change of heart? Is it because you couldn’t handle being called a slut by everyone?”

“I am not a slut, nor am I a homewrecker. He loved me first, don’t you forget that,” she spat out, her words laced with poison. It had you narrowing your eyes at her, and the Princess cowered for a moment, dropping her gaze down her lap as she stumbled over what to say next. “But the truth is… I never loved him. Or if I did, it wasn’t to the point where I would throw away my marriage to him. I want stability, Your Highness, and my union with Kiyoomi provided me that. Stability, security, and power – I have it all. There’s nothing more I could possibly want.”

“Then why were you sleeping with my husband?”

Iris shut her eyes, her hands balled into fists at her lap. “Because my husband wasn’t around. He avoided me like the plague during the early stages of our marriage, and the Palace is too big a place for someone like me. I’m human, too. I got lonely. You cannot blame me for seeking out the warmth of another. He wasn’t yours during those times, so you can’t put this over our heads again and again.”

“You were using him,” you stated, shooting up from your seat. Kiyoomi had told you about it. Hell, even Maiko had an inkling their relationship was nothing but exploitative on Iris’ part, but hearing it coming from her – hearing how she used your husband like he was a mere toy or puppet for her to play with as she pleases… your blood boiled.

“You knew Rintaro was in love with you, and you took advantage of that. How could you?”

“Because he was there when no one else was.”

You stood rigidly, trying to quell the storm brewing within you. Fixing your gaze on the horizon, you avoided Iris’s eyes, afraid that even a fleeting glance would betray the torrent of emotions you fought to contain. Each breath was a deliberate effort to maintain your composure, your mind a battlefield of unspoken accusations and restrained fury.

Despite the turmoil, you held yourself with regal poise.

“I think I’m going to have a drink,” you decided, sending one last forced smile her way. “Care for some?”

Color drained from the Princess’ face. “No, I-I’m laying off the drinks for a while. I’ve never been a drinker anyway.”

You watched Iris from the corner of your eye, noting how she subtly used her arms to hug her stomach, her movements slow and deliberate. Since arriving at the beach house, Iris had looked unusually pale and sickly, her vitality drained. She kept her distance from Rintaro, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by everyone.

A wild thought flickered through your mind – could Iris be pregnant?

You quickly dismissed the idea, shaking your head, but the possibility lingered – filling you with a growing sense of dread. The realization settled in her chest like a heavy stone, the implications threating to unravel the fragile ‘peace’ between you all.

“Hmm.” You dug your nails to your palm, licking your lips as you tried to still your beating heart. “I think I’ll head to bed soon. Good night, Iris.”

“Princess,” Iris called out from where she sat, her beautiful face crestfallen and desperate. “Have you forgiven me? Can we be friends?”

“I’ll think about it.”

You headed back inside the house, your breathing growing shallower with each step you took. Faintly, you heard Rintaro’s concerned voice calling after you. You paid him no mind, taking two steps at a time as you pushed open the door to their shared bedroom.

Kiyoomi was already inside, in the middle of taking off his wristwatch when you came bustling in. Your name fell on his lips. You ignored him, too, heading for the bed with crumpled sheets from where Iris must’ve slept. You threw the pillows on the ground, the blankets balled and discarded to the side, as you looked for something – searched for answers. Her belongings all came crashing to the ground as you picked it apart one by one, hauling her suitcase from the drawer before kicking it to the floor.

“Princess,” Kiyoomi sounded worried, his hands coming up to reach for you when you slapped it away. Concern flashed over his face, more so when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”

“She’s hiding something. I know it.”

It didn’t take much effort to open her suitcase. Clothes, shoes, her makeup bag – you emptied it of its contents and felt around for any hidden zippers. None. It was empty, save for some unused tampons scattering right beneath your feet.

Your vision began to grow blurry.

Pushing past Kiyoomi, you dashed for the bathroom and knelt on the ground, opening the trash bin and digging through the heap of dry paper towels. You stared at it, confused. Why throw away perfectly good and unused napkins? Determined, you flipped the bin upside down. A white, thin object fell on the ground with a soft clink.

You reached for it with shaky hands.

It was a pregnancy test – one that read positive.

Behind you, you heard Kiyoomi’s sharp inhale. “It’s not mine,” his words faded into the background, “I never touched her.”

When you found the strength to speak, your voice came out weak and cracked.

“…I know you’re not the father.”

from the left: beach house → master bedroom → reading room

[gremlingottoosilly]

Normal People Things (dark!141 x fem!Reader)

Soap drags you to his place to meet with his lieutenant. It goes as smoothly as you can imagine. AO3 CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation

The ride is short – shorter than you anticipated. You don’t know if you wanted it to be longer if you needed more time to sort out the thoughts flying in your head – you feel numb, empty, hollow, all of those stupid words for stupid expressions because nothing can quite describe the dread settling in your stomach. 

Your throat burns, your makeup is ruined, you are shaking like a kitten left under a rain – you listen to some light music, something you could hear in the car of a guy you’d probably be interested in. Classic rock, some melodic sensations, if you squint and cover your mouth, you can almost relax and stop the desire to puke. You felt mostly sober when the Scot was pushing his dick in your mouth, the horror of the situation forcing your mind to clear up a little – but now it’s foggy again, blurry and messy every time you open your eyes just to see the same man on the front seat, smiling every time he catches you looking at him through the mirror. 

He broke your phone, obviously – snatched it from your hands and broke it in two with horrifying ease. He kissed you after this, cold lips on your forehead. You were crying, or so you think – you were crying this whole ordeal, your face feeling wet and burning as he was fucking laughing, trying to get you to talk to him. You wouldn’t, even if your throat weren’t hoarse and hurting from the fucking he gave you. 

“Want to grab somethin’ to eat, bonnie? I know a bloody lovely place, eh?”

You didn’t respond, the thought of taking something from a guy who eligibly kidnapped you made you sick. Besides, it’s not like food will do you any good – your stomach is spinning from a combination of fear and alcohol, and even though you’d love to ruin this pretty car, you don’t want to evocate even more negative feelings from its owner. He hasn’t hurt you too much yet – no bruises, no broken bones or blood, and you don’t want to provoke him further. 

“Don’t cry so much, I didn’t even fucked ye. I’ll get ye off later, aye?” 

You don’t want him to ever touch you again – despite that disgusting, burning feeling on your panties, the way your little cunt is fucking soaked because his voice is gruff, his face is pretty, and he almost touched you in a way that wasn’t making you sick – it all dropped now, thankfully, your mind is reminded of just how horrible he really is. “Just sit yer wee arse here, lassie. Lt and I will take care of ye” You almost fell asleep when he finally stopped in front of…a building. You don’t know what you were expecting – an evil lair, maybe some grimy base where monsters like him are being made. Not a rather normal apartment building, maybe a bit too scary and dark for your liking – you probably wouldn’t want to live here or even be around this place at night, but, ultimately, it doesn’t look like an evil base. 

This only makes your condition worse – you start sobbing again, useless and pathetic begging as the Scot drags you out of the car, supporting your wobbly legs and making sure you won’t fall down to the ground as he gently caresses your body. He is too fucking soft, too gentle – even his grip on your wrists isn’t bruising, he has one hand on your waist, gently pushing you towards the building. 

***

Ghost wasn’t expecting guests today. He just got out of another deployment, a few days from the previous mission, ready to get back any time if it weren’t for the fact they all deserved a little retreat – yet, he was planning to go with alcohol, maybe some lowly jerk-off sessions with Johnny and shitton of cigarettes to pass the day. What he wasn’t expecting is his sergeant spamming the 141 group chat – shitty idea, really, too much liability and security problems, despite all the measures Price took to encrypt everything – with pictures of cute, crying girl being all adorable, scared and fucking defenseless. 

No one in 141 is a good person – it comes with the job, really, if you’re willing to be a good guy with a gun, there will always be a moment when the lines become blurred. Dragging a civilian girl to their damp apartment isn’t a life-or-death decision made in the field, but they all deserve a bit of sweetness after a mission, right? 

They can be good for you. Simon isn’t sure there is anything in his heart that can still be declared as soft and fuzzy feelings, but he is willing to try and find it, even if for a night. They won’t be letting you go, obviously, Lasswell won’t cover their sorry asses in case you’re getting out with a marvelous surviving story, so you all would have a lot of time to get to know each other. 

— Thought you’d bring food, Johnny. 

— I did. Not my fault they gave up sweets as freebies. 

— How is she? 

— Quiet. Our lassie is a smart girl, eh? Didn’t even fight too much. 

— Fuckin’ hell. Thought they stopped making those a while ago. 

— Good thing I found her, aye? 

Ghost stands at the door of their shared apartment, staring at adorable scared you. You’re shaking in his sergeant’s hands, poor thing, too fucking terrified to even run – you have mascara smeared all over your face, drool and cum on your lips, and he drags a finger to your mouth, wiping it all away. 

You instinctively suck on his finger, the natural obedience coming with a very simple “please, don’t hurt me” plea – and he fucking knows you will be so good for them. He is dragging you inside, allowing Soap to push the takeout bag on the small table in the kitchen while Simon is dealing with all of those silly clothes you’re wrapped in. 

You beg him to stop, but, at this point, even you don’t think he will. All ounces of hope were destroyed already. You aren’t sure what you want anymore – maybe you want to just lay down and sleep, hoping that they will stop tormenting you. The ache between your legs only grows stronger when Ghost drags you to the bedroom, his strong, bulky hands holding you so perfectly – so firmly, you can’t even wish to move away. 

The mattress creaks under the combined weight of your bodies. You roll to the side immediately, your brain is foggy from alcohol again – you don’t even register his rough, firm hands as he is slowly dragging the ruined dress from your body, revealing the underwear you spend so much time choosing and buying. You liked the combination – you wanted to wear something nice today, even if no one would have seen it. 

Now you have this horrifying man in a skull balaclava and harsh hands tugging on the straps of your bra. You sob, head spinning and vomit picking in your throat. The man puts a hand between your shoulder blades, just enough pressure to make you grounded – to remind you that there is no way out, even in your mind. 

— Calm down, love. Won’t hurt ya. 

You choke on a laugh – they are literally going to fucking assault you, you were already forced to suck on Soap’s dick, and yet, this man is playing gentleman with you while undressing you at the same time. You cry again, your tears met with a soft hand on your cheek – checking on you. 

God, you want to drown in this affection, no matter how artificial it is. 

— L…let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone. 

— Too late for that, eh? Johnny don’t have any bloody manners. 

Scot screams from the kitchen, making you wince from the sound. 

“Bloody hell, Lt, I ken ye were fine with draggin’ our lassie here a minute ago!“ You sobs intensify, and you never felt more fragile than before – just one loud sound is enough to break you. The British guy drags you into an uncomfortably tight embrace almost immediately – you’d say you’re almost thankful for the moment of affection, but he snaps your bra a second later. 

— Sorry, love. Will buy you a new one. 

His fingertips are rough on your skin, a contrast that sends shivers down your spine. You whine, feeling stranded like this – feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick from the moisture in your panties. You hate yourself for being this touch starved, but the man is as rough as he is mysterious – and by the look of his figure, perfectly sculpted hands, and a healthy amount of tummy that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating, he might be up to your tastes. It's too bad you don’t have a choice anyway. 

— Don’t touch me. 

— Can’t help it. You’re pretty. 

You feel like you are going to have a fucking panic attack. This is too much – you feel sick, you feel mortified, you are getting your hands out of his hold with the power of surprise and dragging them closer to your mouth, trying to contain the involuntary bile collecting in your throat. You gag, finally feeling all the alcohol you took, getting back to bite you in the ass. 

Before you could say or try anything else, before you could even be bent over, trying to calm yourself down before you dirty everything in this fine-looking bedroom, Brit already dragged you to the bathroom, allowing you to look at the tile floor and white ceramics while you were vomiting your guts, cum, and anxiety out of your stomach. 

It took you a few minutes before you could get anything out – and another few while you were just holding the toilet seat, not even caring about how unsanitary it was. You feel like you’re going to die, the throbbing in your head only intensifying as you could almost feel dropping out of conscience. God, you will never drink again – even though it’s a promise that will break you right after you break it. 

— Bloody hell, love. Easy. Easy. 

— F…fuck you. 

— You will, love. Promise. 

The skull mask guy was rubbing your back the whole time, a motion you didn’t expect from a kidnapper, rapist and a fucking arsehole. He gently took your hair out of the way, he slowly rubbed calming gestures in your aching muscles, and you leaned into his touch, your state was finally reaching the breaking point – you were longing for the soft touch of your captor, not even caring that he is just as awful as his friends, rummaging through various bags somewhere in the other room. 

You cry, the depths of the situation finally getting to you – and he drags you into a tight hug after wiping your mouth with a paper towel, throwing it away before you could feel sick from the smell again. 

He talks you through it with his grovely voice and deep accent, and you can’t help but lean in and listen. 

— Calm down. Can’t have you panicking on my cock. 

— D…don’t touch me. Please. 

— You need this, love. We’re not the worst people who could have picked ya up. 

— You’re a bunch of fucking ra…

He stops you immediately – holds your hand, and drags you back to the bedroom almost too rough, dropping you to the bed before you can manage to scramble your legs and writhe away from his touch. You sob again, crying even more – you don’t have makeup now. Thankfully, everything was mostly wiped out by the paper towels and a mix of your tears, but you still feel horrible. Laying on the soft bed in your soaked panties made you feel like a slut, and this is not the feeling you were expecting out of this night. You just fucking wanted to go home and sleep the alcohol out, not…this. 

— We’ll take care of you. Be a good girl for us, and I will make Johnny pay for not getting you off, eh? 

You can hear the Scot again, emerging from the kitchen in an apron – to your surprise. He looks too domestic, too clean, his hair is a bit disheveled after your little attempt at breaking out, and you can see the resemblance between him and a very, very sad and polite dog. If he had a tail, it would be curled between his knees, a look of genuine guilt almost making you believe that he wanted to apologize for being so forceful. 

— Steamin’ Jesus, I tried to be a gentleman. Didn’t want to scare our lassie too much. 

— She’s shivering. Poor girl, was Johnny this scary? 

— It’s yer mask. Wee things always scared of those. 

They both laugh, clearly not taking your tears seriously. You curl into the bed, trying to protect your exposed breasts and midriff as much as possible. You don’t want to be touched, you feel dirty and used already, but their attentive gaze is making your skin burn and crawl from the feelings you never thought you knew before. It’s a horrible situation, but somehow, you are almost flattered because of how affectionate they both look for someone as insignificant as you. 

Maybe, it’s your brain trying to protect itself from further trauma. Maybe, if you’d lie to yourself long enough, you could pretend you want this. 

Ghost looks at you, drinking the drowning panic in your eyes. You’re so pretty, so helpless, he doesn’t even want to think of what could happen to you if Johnny weren’t here to pick you up. You’d be murdered in cold blood, left laying on the side of the street after a group of some perverts would be done with you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you deserve a proper help and calmness of living with them – and he knows that once he is done with bringing his first orgasm with your body, you will learn to love it too. Maybe not at first, but the seeds would be there. 

He tries to be on his best behavior as he slowly drags his body between your legs, catching your ankles once you tried to kick him. You’re like a kitten, growling and hissing, clawing on his hands like it didn’t turn him on even more – he pins you under his weight easily, enjoying the audience of Soap already palming himself through his pants. Fucking pervert – he already came in your mouth not so long ago, but the lieutenant knows that given a chance, his sergeant will break this girl for another three rounds in a row. They can’t have that, right? 

— Calm, love. Don’t make it harder for yourself. 

— Stop…please, just…god, wait, I…

It’s such empty words, he knows you can’t calm yourself down – you’re a pretty girl, really, you’re cute and adorable, and you don’t deserve his firm hand taking off your lace panties, but he knows that you will love it after a few more times. You’re dripping already, a combination of manhandling and previous foreplay making you adorably weak for them. 

— Will make you nice and wet, yeah? Such a pretty cunt, bound to give it a taste. 

— W..wait, please, don’t, really, j…just let me…

— Quiet, love. You’ll fuckin’ love it. 

Ghost drags his fingers straight into your folds, spreading them as quickly as possible. He would love to give you more time to adjust, but he was hard ever since Johnny made that goddamn call, and patience isn’t his best quality when on leave – he needs you in all ways you can handle. On your back, preferably, he wants to see that pretty face of yours when he will bottom himself in your cunt and make you squeal. Maybe play with your ass for a little – if you’re going to be the team’s favorite girl, they need all of your holes ready to be used. 

You squeak from surprise when he drags his mask on the upper half of his face, revealing his mouth. Clean-shaved chin, a bit of uneven blonde stubble, strong jawline – he smirks because he knows he is quite the opposite of ugly, that even after all the burns and scars, he is still that rugged type of handsome that ladies in pubs just love to touch. He wonders if you’re more of a typical pretty boy type – he wonders if you’d like Gaz as much as you love Simon. And you fucking adore him by the sight of your wet pussy almost dripping on his tongue. 

You beg him to stop when he slides his tongue in, the feeling of his harsh fingers stretching you only making everything hotter, less bearable. You don’t want to like it, but he is handsome and strong, he is whispering sweet compliments into your pussy, sliding sloppy kisses all over your folds, not forgetting to pay attention to your throbbing clit. 

“Such a pretty cunt for us. What was the last time she got so much attention?” 

He kisses you down there sloppily, adding another finger almost immediately to really make you feel that burn. You’re crying from stimulation, it’s been a while since the last time you had anything so heated – you just want him to stop, to proceed, to let you go, and also to never stop kissing your pussy and collecting all the juice that’s been flowing from you. You make the bedsheets under your ass wet, and Ghost just can’t help but stretch you a bit more, enjoying the sound of your confused, almost pained squeals. 

“Stop crying, love. I could have taken your arse instead.”

He can only imagine how adorable you’d look, crying from his cock in your plump rear. He is by no means small, and the thought of tearing your pretty arse just a little, making you cry from being filled so much, makes him even harder. He needs to be patient, can’t break your rear before Captain gets here – but god, isn’t patience the hardest virtue. 

“S’good for me. Sorry, love, can’t wait much longer. Got a bloody lovely cunt f’ me” 

You cry even harder when Ghost finally slides his cock in you – one harsh thrust, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, is enough to make you sick again. You’re stretched, dripping wet, it wouldn’t hurt if only he had a normal-sized cock, not the fucking monstrosity he is showing in your underprepared pussy. Nothing would prepare you for this – he started moving immediately, with little regard for your comfort. The niceties he was whispering were falling on deaf ears as he slammed inside of you over and over again. 

You feel sick. 

— Fuck. S’ tight for me. 

You’re clenching around his dick, not allowing him to pull back. Such a pretty girl, he doesn’t know what he would do without that feeling – he wants to fucking devour you whole, to have you laid out for him so prettily. He bottoms finally, stretching you beyond any man could – you feel him somewhere deep, near your cervix, hitting your sensitive walls while all you can do is cry for him to stop tormenting you like this. You can only squeal under him, for him, he is hitting all of your special spots at the same time, and you don’t know if you could really handle him like this. 

His hand lands on your folds, playing with your clit – only making you more and more wet with each second, you almost feel like you are passing the breaking point already. He is stronger than you want him to be, and you feel like he is going to fucking break you, every attempt of squirming from under him is met with a fierce grip on your waist, dragging you back where you belong – moaning and crying on his cock. 

The intrusion stopped being painful after a few minutes, you’re open enough to allow his cock to slide in and out easily. He bites your neck, munching on sensitive flesh like he is going to rip a chuck off you, leaving marks as if he were a wild dog. You moan under him, the feeling of his teeth on your skin isn’t exactly horrible – but not too enjoyable either. 

You squirm softly, hoping he would at least cum soon. 

— That’s right. Dumb civvie girls should just relax for the ride. 

— N…not dumb. I’m not dumb. 

— Only a dumb girl like you would get in Johnny’s hands. S’ry, love, but you really are dumb. 

— I’m…

— It’s alright. We like dumb girls. 

He moans in your ear, biting your earlobe, engaging in a sloppy kiss that allows you to taste your pleasure on his lips. You hate every second, you want to loathe every inch of his body, but his hand is moving faster and faster, steady rhythm that makes you see stars every time he plunges his cock inside – and, oh god, you can’t help but feel your pussy throbbing around him, the tight knot in your lower tummy getting warmer and warmer as his movements steadily brings you to an orgasm. 

It hits you too fast to be prepared for – just a few minutes later, you’re panting under him, mouth open agape as he slides his cock even faster, abusing your poor, sensitive cunt. You’re milking him for cum, not even caring that you are not on the pill – you just concentrate on the head of his cock hitting your G-spot in the most perfect of timings and his rough fingertips caressing your clit in a way that makes you go wild. 

You cum with a cry, soft, squeaky sobs escaping your lips as you hiccup and moan, pressing your hips against his in an attempt to become as close as possible. You feel his hot cum filling you up, a slight bulge in your lower tummy becoming even more prominent. 

Ghost kisses you on the forehead as he slowly emerges from you, hissing as your tight walls refuse to let him go. You’re so fucking perfect, all flushed and panting heavily, neck covered in bite marks and outline of his bruises forming on your waist. 

He pats your pussy a few times, making you shiver from the feeling. 

— Such a pretty girl. Lay here, your cunt is goin’ to be a bit more visitors today. 

He smiles, kissing you on the lips again – you whimper, curling on the bed, feeling the hot cum dripping from your exhausted, sore pussy. You feel his hand affectionately patting your head as if you were a cat, and he hums in approval when you instinctively lean towards his hand, getting as much affection as you possibly can. He brings you a pillow and drags your head so it would rest more comfortably – and you already feel extremely tired, your eyes closing. 

You’re almost ready to sleep when you feel the Scot sliding in bed with you, slowly spreading your legs.