#you KNOW I don't have the guts to post the smut chapter. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simpjaes · 5 months

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FRENZY ៸៸៸ part two

Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect.

៸៸៸ part one here ៸៸៸ you must read the first part in order to understand this one!

៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader

៸៸៸ minors dni

៸៸៸ wordcount: 14.2k

៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut

៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him.

៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.

៸៸៸ a/n: sorry again for the way i had to post this in two parts, still i hope it was worth the wait!

៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut

៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press, standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The next morning, you were late waking up to log into your work account but Jake was still there, drowsy and smiling at you from the moment you opened your eyes.

You briefly remember the early morning pouting he gave you, hard against you and lips all over you, and in turn you remember how you made a promise to yourself swiftly after rejecting his needs.

Your face heated up the second he said good morning to you, flustered over the fact that not only do you want him, but you want him to want you like that again, despite your rejection. After all, you let him sleep over, and he didn’t try to take advantage of you despite sporting an intense boner through the majority of it.

He sees the way your eyes check him out upon waking up too, but you stay silent after he gives you his good morning greeting.

“Are you hungry? I can step out and pick up some breakfast so you can work.” He offers, stretching his arms out wide and tapping you to stand up. “I’m staying again today.”

Your eyes widen at him, but the smile on your face betrays that little red flag in your head that has forced you, up to this point, to struggle to give him what he needs.

“I’d like that.” You nod to him, cheeks permanently warmed at the image of your shining boyfriend. “Sorry about last night.” You blurt now, standing up and stretching yourself.

“It’s fine love, it's just hard to keep my hands to myself sometimes.” He says, intensely watching your reaction.

You lend a pause in your stretch at those words, having heard them before when your ex did things that made your body ache for weeks. There is a pull in your gut hearing him say that before you remind yourself that they’re just words. He just really likes you, and he did stop when you told him to.

He is not your ex.

“I wouldn’t have hurt you though,” He continues, seeing you deep in thought in front of him. “If you’d have let me, I mean.”

“Jake I–” You stop yourself, feeling a flood of words on the tip of your tongue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You confirm, now moving forward to hug against him. “I would have–”

“You would?” His eyes light up, smile brighter than you’ve ever seen before.

“No, I mean,” You stutter in panic, hugging him tighter. “I would have touched you if you asked.”

His eyes go dark instantly, making his smile seem more eerie than anything as you look up at him.

“I’m okay with doing the touching, we can work our way up to the other stuff…maybe? If that’s okay?”

“Oh, baby, that’s more than okay.” He coos out, now losing his appetite for actual food and wanting nothing more than to show you just how good he could really be for you. His arms hug you tightly before releasing you, and he ushers you across the room. “We can talk about this later though, you’re already late, right?”

You nod, feeling a bit better about initially rejecting him and doing just that, moving to the small nook that holds your desk and PC and listening to him slip his shoes on.

“I’m going to grab breakfast, and I’m gonna stop by my place to grab some clothes.”

He leaves before you can answer, which is nice because part of you didn’t want to hear your own voice accepting that.

Accepting that he’s leaving right now, accepting that he’s coming back to stay another night, accepting that you feel perfectly fine with all of this despite your inner demon advising you to run.

You don’t know who you are in this moment, but what you do know is that you’re safe. That’s what’s driving you to act blatantly against what your own brain is telling you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re clinging and Jake is fucking devoted to the feeling of it.

Devoted to the way your fingers, so much smaller than his own, grab him to kiss him. Devoted to the way you kiss the bruise above his brow, and the way you ask him to stay for another night, and another, and another, up until he finds himself doing his and your laundry together just so he doesn’t have to go back home to grab more clothes to rotate through.

It’s been a week since he’s been in your apartment, rolling around on your bed with you in it, cleaning himself in your shower, washing himself with your soap. It’s like only the two of you exist in this space, where he is the only one to step out and see the sun, solely so you don’t have to.

Or, solely so you can’t. He doesn’t think he’d let you at this point, now that you’re his and you prove it with each kiss and hug. All you need to do is sit and look pretty, sit and love him. That’s what your purpose is in this relationship, he will do the rest.

Given, he’s also fucked his fist each second he can get in your bathroom. But goddamn do you cling. You whine when he separates himself from you even for a moment, and day by day he can see you come closer and closer to fulfilling his need to be loved by you entirely.

Your phone hasn’t received any unsavory messages you’ve noticed as well, they haven’t needed you to come into the office, and all you can manage to think is that…you’re in love with being in this apartment with him.

Only good things happen when Jake is with you and you’re growing so attached that you’ve thought more than once to just move him in with you. Your mother would scold you, your ex would kill you, and arguably, Jake would absolutely do it.

He waits on you hand and foot. Cooking, cleaning, doing your laundry, holding you and giving you some of the best sleep you’ve had in years. You refrain from considering it seriously though, because this relationship is still so new. You don’t want to freak him out or cause an uproar in your already fucked up and unsteady life. You’re throwing yourself in like you always do, but…is it so bad when he’s doing the exact same thing?

Until he’s not, anyway.

“Love,” Jake starts, tapping his chin with the tips of his fingers as he lounges on your bed. “I need to go home today.”

Your heart immediately sinks.

“What? Why?” You ask in a voice that plainly shows your panic.

“Well,” He taps on his chin again before moving his hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure my mailbox is probably full by now, I need to clean out my fridge, and I should probably check my course work.”

“You’re…in college?”

Jake nods with a snicker, laughing at how he’s given up his entire life for you.

“Yeah, probably won’t be soon though.” He laughs, shaking his hair out and then looking at you with big, rounded eyes. “Just for the day, I’ll be back before sunset.”

You look down in a disappointed way before nodding to him.

“Aww, babe. Don’t be like that–” He mock pouts as he turns to you, grabbing both of your cheeks and squishing them up, forcing your lips to pucker before landing a harsh kiss against them. “I’m coming right back, I promise.”

You nod again, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face.

“You’re so cute, it’s going to kill me one of these days.” He smiles back at you, hopping up and preparing himself to head back to his apartment.

What you don’t know is that, while Jake wasn’t lying and that he should at least clean out his fridge, he needed to go home.

He needs to unload the footage onto his computer, he needs to watch it back, he needs to fuck something.

And so, he does just that.

The second he gets back to his apartment, it’s almost uncomfortable. Unfamiliar scents, no warmth, rotting food in the fridge, neglected pillows and bed sheets.

Even so, it’s like he acts on instinct when he walks past everything he needs to do and lands himself at the window. His mind takes over in an instant.

It felt like so long ago when he first saw you from here, knowing you were the most beautiful, the perfect girl for him. Knowing you would love him too, and that you’d never want to leave him. He smiles at his victory, knowing that you’re sitting in that apartment right now thinking about him too. If he knew where he would be now, he thinks his former self may have very well fucked himself to death. After all, he’s felt you, tasted you, and even seen parts of you based on the little image he sent to himself from your phone. Everything happened better than he knew it would.

If it weren’t for your ex, perhaps you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment. Perhaps you wouldn’t have clinged to him so immediately.

In a way, he almost wants to thank the man before he eventually strangles the life out of him.

He’s tasted almost all of you by this point, and each moment it happened is trapped within the files of that little camera there. All of it, for him to remember. Each kiss and makeout session he made sure happened in the view of this camera, and so badly does he want to watch over and over again the moments where you gave in to him. The moments where you needed him.

He’s quick to push the camera to his pc, uploading a weeks worth of files before placing it back onto the window sill and immediately shoving his hand down his pants.

Jake shivers at the first unrestricted graze of his hand against his cock, eyebrows falling into that of probably one of the most pathetic faces he could ever make in his life. The relief is so good, so painful.

He can’t fucking help it. After jerking off multiple times a day before finding himself in your apartment with you, it’s hard to only do it once a day within a short time span of a few minutes. He felt so restricted in terms of his release, and he has so much cum to give right now. He’s aching for it. He wants to bleed it dry.

He wants you so bad at this point, seeing you dangle yourself in front of him and not yet give in to at least going down on him– he needs this. He needs it now.

Even if it’s not you touching him, he needs to release before he takes it from you. Before he does something stupid and makes you hate him forever. Before he really does become your ex. It felt like he was going insane in your apartment, surrounded by you, only wanting to fuck you, and still not getting to.

God, the footage is so grainy but it hits his cock so fucking fast. He memorized each moment as it happened, and now watching it in third person makes him feel as if he’s some sort of ghost. Like he’s having an out of body experience and can see and feel you in a completely different light.

In more ways than he already has, even.

He releases within thirty seconds, barely holding his cock when he doubles over at the footage of that very first, harsh kiss you gave him. Sensitive and twitching, his raging length spilled all in his pants, drenches them through even, as his body shakes with the need for more.

And as if it never happened, he takes a firmer hold of his cock now, fast forwarding the footage to each and every kiss, wondering how good those lips of yours would feel elsewhere on his body. How pretty your moans would sound for him, how cute your hand looked gripping your tit in that little nude of yours, how–

He comes again, forcing him to let out a choked sob and drop his head to his desk. God, it hurts. He’s so sensitive, and still, he wants you so bad. His dick is still raging, aching, and begging, especially when he thinks of how you’ve been clinging. How your hands have fucked yourself, and how badly he wants them to stay on him forever.

God he wishes your fingers could slice him open, leaving painful and love-filled reminders of not who you belong to, but of who he belongs to.

When he thinks of how he’s only doing this right now because you have your claws buried into him already, almost refusing to let him leave you, he knows he could come another four or five times within the next thirty minutes solely because you cling, and cling, and fucking cling. Fuck..

That’s so hot to him.

He’d let you cage him up in a heartbeat, he’d let you fuck his entire life up and then laugh at him for it. It’s what you deserve. To have a man willing to do anything for you, someone willing to give up everything just to hear you breathe, to have him be that person.

Third release, forcing him to hold his breath to the point of feeling faint.

The veins on his neck protrude, sweat now dripping down his brow.

It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts.

But it doesn’t hurt enough.

And all day he does this. Until the sun is telling him that he needs to go back to you, until his hair is drenched in sweat and his arm is sore. Until his body feels weak and his cock feels spent, raw, and still throbbing for more.

It hurts when he puts on a new pair of pants, hurts even more when he forces himself to squat in front of his fridge to clean it out, opting to toss everything into a bag rather than sifting through what’s good and what isn’t.

Now more than ever does he want you against him, knowing that he’s fucked himself half to death solely to keep himself from scaring you, and still he isn’t satisfied.

At this point, nothing will satisfy him but you. He knows this now.

He’s quick to lock up, even quicker to toss his trash, and finds himself inside of your lobby at a loss.

Goddamn his libido. Goddamn this love for you.

He can’t stop wanting you, and he can’t just fuck the need away himself at this point. He needs you to fuck his brain quiet, only you can satiate this horrifyingly deep hunger.

Waiting, watching, waiting, waiting, waiting.

He’s waited enough. He’s done waiting.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake appears at your door right on time, and you were expecting to see his smiling face and big stretched out arms to greet you as you open the door for him.

You didn’t get that though. In fact, you found yourself frozen with the door half open as you stared at your boyfriend and the way his terrifyingly small pupils looked back at you before instantly growing twice the size. So different from this morning, heaving, lips shaking, eyes darker than they’ve ever been.

Before you can even ask why he’s looking at you like that, you learn exactly why.

“I’m going fucking insane.” Jake says shortly in a hot whisper, stepping forward and slamming the door behind him. You feel his hands on you instantly, slipping under your shirt and grabbing your waist tightly. “Can’t be away from you, can’t be with you, I can’t stand it.”

You just listen, feeling him walk you into the living room, fluttering his lips all over your face and neck, only to press you up and against the window with his entire body pinning you there with a slam.

You’re shocked, unable to do anything but listen to him and feel the way his hands grip and search your entire body for something to hold onto.

“All fucking day,” Jake seethes out angrily, pulling back from you and grabbing your face to turn it. Almost pissed that you simply exist in front of him right now. “Right there.” He says, pointing directly to his apartment. “I sat right there trying to deal with this.” He presses his hips against you, letting you feel exactly what he’s talking about. “And still, I need more.”

Your brain goes numb. Or maybe it goes hot, you’re not sure. You’ve only recently realized that he turns you on beyond belief, it’s difficult to decipher the difference between horniness and fear right now.

“Jake–” You turn back to him, now using your own hands to grab his face, forcing his eyes to steady and look at you, as if to bring him back to reality. “Do you need–”

He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, hands running up just to press you harder against the window, his hips chasing whatever he can get from you. Like he’s using you in this moment, as if you’re not real and simply a doll for him to release against and inside of.

He’s fucking gone. Outside of himself, and you, and the universe as a whole.

“What I need,” He says, pulling back and stating in an almost demanding tone. “Is for you to take care of me.”

You knew this would come sooner or later, and you’d been trying to work up the courage to do it. You’ve run his patience dry, and you guess it’s now or never at this point.

“Just tell me.” You whisper submissively, wanting to give him whatever he needs solely so that he won’t leave you.

You see his expression soften within a split second, his hips release their pressure against you, and he pulls his hands back.

“Fuck.” He lets out apologetically, demeaning himself for losing his control and being so blatant. Pointing out his fucking apartment to you. “Baby, I’m sorry, I–”

You’ve already made your decision, understanding exactly why your boyfriend broke his composure. This past week proved enough to you that he wasn’t in it to fuck you, and even though his needs weren’t being met, he still worked hard to meet yours, you feel…

Yeah, you’re happy he did this. Even the force didn’t scare you entirely. The only thing that scares you is him leaving you over this. And he watches as you do it, sinking to your knees and reaching out to hook your fingers into the loops on his pants.

“Baby,” He warns you, feeling you pull him straight to you. “Wait, wait.”

You don’t, knowing that if you were to stop now you might end up talking yourself out of doing this again.

“No,” You shake your head, lifting on your knees just to rub your cheek against the length in his pants. “Let me take care of you, I’ve neglected you enough.”

God, he fucking buckles. Dropping right to his knees in front of you, pulling you in by the face, and kissing you as hard as he possibly can. His entire body quivers, bursting in a euphoric sense of arousal as the hairs rise on his body at the very image of you on your knees for him.

“You’re so good to me,” He mumbles through kissing you. “So, so good to me.”

And you just let yourself feel it. Intensely, to the point that even your stomach flips at knowing what’s about to happen.

Strangely enough, it flips in a good way. You haven’t felt like this in years, and it brings so much glee to you knowing that Jake is right here, willing to let you make him feel good. Willing to let you feel these things again, willing to make you feel good if you work up the courage to ask for it. And most of all, he’s staying.

“Stand up then.” You whisper in a smile. “I’ll take care of you, so don’t run back home to do it yourself anymore.”

Jake shakes his head with a smirk, happy to get what he not only wants at this moment, but what he so desperately needs.

“I did that for you, and look where it got me.” He says, standing and staring down at you. “Nothing will ever satisfy me, only you can.”

You chuckle shyly, reaching up to fumble with his button only to have him take over for you, dropping his pants and gripping himself.

“Don’t be so sure though.” You swallow around a lump in your throat at the size of him, proving why you were always able to feel it and not quite ignore it. “I don’t have a lot of practice with this.”

Oh, could you be any more perfect? Any more fucking endearing? With those pretty eyes staring down what he wants to put in you so bad, not even knowing how he’s only ever gotten this hard for you and you alone. Fuck, he could give it to you so good, he could fill you until you can’t breathe, he could keep you forever.

You look so pretty like this, with your lips trembling as you wet them, with the way your smaller hands swat him away as if to ask him to let you try and hold it yourself.

He could shoot his load right now if you asked him to, looking so fucking docile on the floor for him. He needs to look away, he needs to prepare for this.

“I don’t know if I can, um,” You start, gripping him and noting that he’s thick, there’s no way it will all fit in your mouth without absolutely suffocating you. “Jake, I genuinely don’t know if I can fit all of it.”

He lends you a short chuckle as he takes in a breath, his fingers going down to tip your chin up at him. You feel it pulse in your hand as he looks at you, almost feeling his quickened heartbeat through the vein that runs up the underside of it.

“Love, I don’t need it to fit.” He smiles, pressing it harder into your palm. “Even this is enough right now.” He lies, pressing his hips forward as if to show you that he’s lying.

He needs it to fit so bad.

You eye him down, feeling the twitch release a little dribble of precum that rolls down and onto your circled fist. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked at another person this way, wanting to taste it, almost needing to.

Rubbing your legs together, almost uncomfortably, you swallow again as you keep your eyes trained on his before glancing back down. You pull your hands back just to see the way it drops. God, it’s so heavy. You can imagine he’s full of resentment for how long it’s taken you to simply look at it. His cock rages at you, darkened in color and glistening in the light of the setting sun through the window.

All you can do is stare.

And all Jake can do is stare too, watching you do math in your head of what you need to do with him. He’d take anything, fucking anything, from you right now.

“Mm,” Jake hums for a moment, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tighter. “Like this.” He instructs.

“I know how to give a hand job, you know.” You roll your eyes playfully, despite totally forgetting how to do it now that, you know, you want to.

“Yeah, don’t tell me that.” He warns, annoyed that you’d even say that right now. “Just, grip me harder–” He closes his eyes, pretending that you’ve never touched a cock that wasn’t his own, noting how your hands have always been gentle with him, save for that day you dragged him around by the shirt in a kiss.

You listen, trying to grip the girth of it as tightly as you can while dragging your hand forward and back, forcing little grunts out of him.

“Yeah,baby–” he encourages you, “Just like that.” He continues to lose himself to the feeling in soft moans, blinking down and now moving his hips in your grasp, fucking forward a bit harder. “Use your other hand too..”

You listen intently, never having to use both hands on a man like this before. You try to squeeze him, offering as much pressure as you can as he swivels his hips forward and back, slicking your hands up nice and wet with his precum. Unbelievable how much he has, actually.

You look up when he lolls his head back in a drawn out moan, staring at the expanse of his neck and the way it tenses when he swallows around the same moan. And then, suddenly, in a split second he hangs his head back down and looks at you as if he can see everything you are, everything you ever have been, and everything you ever could be. You gasp at his expression, feeling totally lost and in awe when you see that gaze go dead as he stares back.

His lips fall slack when his hips pick up pace, essentially fucking your fists rather than letting you do the work. And when you glance away from him, tuning in to the consistent pre-cum spilling out of him, he sees you lick your lips.

He watches, he sees you want it.

So, very gently, he places one of his hands on the back of your head, encouraging you to do it. And it’s like he can taste colors when you let him and instantly wrap your lips around the big, swollen head of his leaking length.

The half-moan-half-amazed-chuckle that falls out of him only comes from the fact that you instantly stretch your lips around it, lapping at his tip in an almost hungry way.

“God, fuck–” He keeps his head hanging forward, watching intently as you take him further and further into your mouth, up until you release one hand and grasp his thigh to hold onto. “I’ve dreamed of this.” He admits, shocked that you’re really going to do this for him.

You blink up at him, trying to smile around the heavy length pressing your tongue down. If you’re going to do this, the least you can do is make sure he fucking loves it. Not to mention, the fact that you’re also enjoying it only drives you to do more. Like the wall inside of you has been shattered and nothing could ever stop you from wanting him in any and every way possible.

He smiles through a deep groan at the way your lips still curl around him.

Never in his fucking life did he imagine you smiling while sliding his cock down your throat. Really, you did that entirely on your own and somehow, he feels even more insane than he did walking into your apartment earlier.

You’re making it fit, and all he can do is help you, now bracing that same hand on your head and pressing further into your mouth..

More, more.

And when he feels your fingernails dig into his thigh and his cock hit the back of your gagging throat, he chokes out, eyes tearing up, and he sobs out your name in a desperate attempt to compliment you for it.

That sound alone from him went straight through you, igniting a long awaited arousal within your belly. You feel the drip, relishing in the feeling of being wet for the first time in fucking years. He’s so big, and he’s so suffocating. You want to do this, you want to hear him cry out your name again.

Even when he tries to pull his hips back, you grab onto him and hold his hips in place, pushing your lips further down, depressing your tongue even more as the thickest part of him cuts off your airways. Your throat restricts around him, and you feel proud of it. Proud of choking on him, happy to keep doing it.

He stutters in awe, gripping the windowsill with his free hand and using the other to feel your hollowed out cheeks. Shit, you’re going to taste him, he’s going to give you all of it, he’s going to–

Shocked, floored, entirely drunk for you, all he can do is watch as you choke. His body did not warn him at all when his cum shoots into your throat, warming your belly with that first swallow around him.

Your reaction to it is immediate though, as he watches with half-crossed eyes the way you pull off of him and let his cum spurt out and drip all over your face. Down those beautiful cheeks, onto your plush lips, and down your neck.

It won't stop. He just keeps coming. His entire body trembles as he stares at you, and you stare back before closing one eye due to the fact that there is now cum in your eyelashes, and you fucking smile at him.

The image alone keeps him hard as his body finally stops twitching. You, there on your knees, smiling up at him drenched in him.

“Baby,” He soothes out with a raspy tone. “Fuck, you didn’t have to do–”

“I’m wet. Jake.” You smile, as if you’re admitting this to him to gain some sort of congratulations for it. And in a way, you are. He has no idea how amazing it is to you right now that you can feel your panties go sticky. It feels amazing to admit to him, actually.

It’s so relieving, it’s so warm, it’s something you never should have missed out on in the first place.

“What?” He asks with uneven breath, dropping to his knees in front of you again, rubbing the cum into your skin with his thumb as he caresses your face. “You are?”

You beam at him, smiling with a nod.

“Really?” He asks again, in disbelief because this was all it took?

You nod again, leaning back on your arms and watching him follow, hovering over you and slotting himself between your legs with a hungry gaze.

“Can I feel?” He asks abruptly, crawling over you to the point that your back hits the side table behind you, keeping you from lying all the way down.

And you nod before you think about it. Wondering if this is how it’s always supposed to be. Always willing, always wanting, always needing.

He stares at you when you nod, glancing down to your middle then back at you as if to gain another confirmation.

You nod again, this time wanting to hide your face in your arms. You anticipate it, wondering what it’ll feel like to be touched there again by a hand that isn’t your own after all this time. And when you feel his shaking hand dip into your sweat pants, you don’t even shutter. You don’t shy away.

You’re surprising yourself even, letting out a gasp when he cups your core and looks down at you with a cautious smile.

“You’re dripping, baby.” He smiles as he balances himself on one arm over you, rubbing his hand back and forth and memorizing the dips and folds he can feel through this flimsy fabric. Then, his more intrusive thoughts spill in an unintentional and needy groan. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”

Words that would make you recoil are no longer scaring you. You can tell he wants to apologize for saying it too, but goddamn, you loved hearing it. In fact, your entire body pulses at the words, feeling his hand do nothing more than hold you there and gently rub. His eyes are pleading though, with his lips pouting as he relishes in thoughts of probably fucking his fingers into you just to see if he’s right.

Or maybe it’s just you hoping that’s what he’s thinking about. You can’t help the way you clench, letting out a strained breath as you lurch forward and hug him around his neck, squeezing so tightly as you whisper against the shell of his ear.

“You can touch me– if you want.” You whisper, physically feeling the goosebumps against his neck raise to your lips. “Just go slow.”

You still need to go slow, after all, you don’t know how your brain may react to this, despite loving it at the moment. Relishing in the fact that someone managed to make you feel horny again. You feared that you never could again. God, he’s amazing.

“I’ll go so slow for you,” He whispers back, twisting his hand in your pants to hook his fingers around your panties to pull them to the side. “Oh, baby, you really do want this, don’t you?” He whispers again upon really feeling you drip, trying to slide his fingers through the slick mess before rubbing circles around your hole. He’s lost his train of thought now, only able to feel one sense at a time so that he can fucking memorize how you coat his fingers entirely.

He moans again from deep in his chest along with you, despite knowing you’re the only one feeling the pleasure of his fingers. You feel his moan vibrate through his throat when you kiss him there, anticipating what it’s going to feel like when he slides a finger in.

And it’s like you see stars when he does, slowly pressing one into you as he wraps his other arm around your waist to hold you in place, sitting back on his knees and forcing you to stand on your own infront of him.

There he holds you as if he’s afraid you’ll start to fight, relishing the feeling of your wet walls hugging his finger all while you cling to him through it. He was right, you are tight despite how wet you’ve gotten. It’s almost like you’re a virgin despite knowing that you’re not.

Your body is reacting this way for him, and you’re hugging him, and your pussy is clenching for him. He just knows that if he manages to fit his cock into you, he’d fucking lose it. You’d squeeze him so tight, and he’d fuck it so deep. Fill you up, deeper, deeper, until the only name you know is his.

He’s losing it again, hearing your little whispered moans against his ear, hanging on him like a fucking pet, god, he wants you to squeeze the fucking blood out of him. You’re being so compliant, so submissive, so–

“Do you even know…” He starts babbling, trying to silence his thoughts by giving them straight to you as his finger slides out, eagerly shoving two back in at a much quicker, much harsher pace. “How much I’ve dreamed about this?”

You shake your head noting how he’s already mentioned dreaming of you once. The thought has you spreading your legs out to feel how deep his fingers reach inside of you. There’s no pain involved in this, despite his pace not being nearly as slow as he said he would go. You’re not upset, you want him to go faster, you want him deeper, you want to hear him talk.

“So many times, baby, so many times.” He soothes himself more than you through these words, losing himself more and more each second to the feeling of your core clenching his fingers. “You’re even prettier to me right now,” He continues to babble, listening to you hum in his ear at the pleasure you feel. “I want you to take everything from me.”

“I want you to wrap your legs around my neck, I want you to rub my nose in it, I want you to suffocate me, I want—”

“Shit, Jake.” You moan out his name for the first time at the dirty words. They’re a lot to take in only because you know it truly is a lot, or rather, it should be. But you fucking want that too. You want everything from him, you want everything he wants. Everything. “What else?” You urge him to keep talking.

“I want you to pull my hair,” He says, instantly feeling your fingers slide up his neck and into the thick of it, tugging immediately. “I want you to make it fit here too.” He continues, curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting his own hips against the dense air in your apartment.

You moan again at his hot words. You’re overwhelmed by how much you want more, how much you’d let him, right here, right now.

“Keep going,” You sing out, feeling it in your stomach and knowing that this familiar feeling is so much better than you’ve ever felt before. “Tell me, Jakey, fuck–” You continue, huffing at the way his fingers quicken even more.

“Sound so pretty saying my name, fuck,” He groans now, more level than before as he feels your legs close around his arm, fingers relentlessly hitting the soft spot inside of you. “Tell me that I’d never hurt you, that only I can make you feel like this.”

You nod aggressively as your brain hits a wall, unable to fulfill his request. Every muscle in your body tenses in pleasure as you begin to shake, moving your own hips against his fingers and tugging his hair harder without intention.

He moans out at how tight you hold him, wanting nothing more than to lay you out and bury himself into you, to feel your pussy jerk him off.

“Feels so good, baby, right?” He continues to talk, feeling your tight walls try to push his fingers out with each threat of your build up, his mind is spinning. “Say it–” He stutters, feeling his own body react the same way yours is. “Fuck, please, say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You whisper out of breath against his ear, the hot breath sending him overboard as he immediately pulls his fingers from you and grips his cock instead, ignoring your whimper of the lost build up.

“Yeah,” He cries out, thrusting his hips against his hand. “So let me– please, please let me.”

His face looks so broken when you stare at him in shock, eyes pleading for you to give him all of it. To give him everything right now. How could you fucking say no to that expression? How could you ever say no to him?

And still, with your orgasm half-fulfilled, you’re entirely enamored with the way you instantly want it too. As if you’re rushing head first into a brick wall with him, and you stop just to think for a moment.

Should you?

Do you intend to keep this man forever? Do you want him to leave? Would you be able to picture a day without him?

It confirms in your brain right then and there. You do intend to keep him. You don’t want him to leave. You could never picture a day without him at this point.

If he wants to have sex with you right now? Why not? You’re sure that if he is truly wanting to stay, sooner or later you’ll feel him pumping inside of you. Why should it matter that it happens now rather than tomorrow? Or next week? Or even next month?

Instantly upon your snap decision, you stand on shaking legs, watching him watch you. His hand gripping himself harshly to prevent a pathetic and untouched orgasm, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

You smile, dropping your pants, panties, and then lifting your shirt right up and over your head. All he does in response is wince, grip the base of his cock harder, and try to focus on not spilling and wasting his cum on your floor. Brain only slightly trying to distract him with the idea of grabbing those sticky panties to suck them clean.

“Really?” He chokes, out of breath and standing up, swiping your panties up quickly and crumpling them in his hand.

Then, you feel one hand on you after he drops his length, and the other rubbing those same wet panties against your skin, as if he has a death grip on them and you. Still, he walks you right back to the window and against it, speaking in that same, needy and shaking breath. “Baby, are you sure?”

You look away, feeling vulnerable and shy but so willing, so ready when you nod and throw your leg around his waist as if to tell him that you’re more than sure.

He gives you a breathy chuckle, pulling back just to lift his shirt off of him, hang your panties at the base of his cock, and then he grabs your leg and holds it in place. “Right here?”

He can’t tell if he’s even alive right now, with your pussy sitting spread open right up against him as you let him hold you here, your ass is probably looking great for the camera right now. Your panties feel so good in their rightful place, dangling just in front of his balls. You feel so good in your rightful place, right up against the wall with him trapping you here.

You nod again, pressing your hips forward, proving to him how hungry you feel for him right now. Finally feeling dirty and not hating yourself for it.

“Right here.” You confirm, tuned into his lips and leaning forward to lick against them. “That’s what you want, right?”

He’s stunned by how you take control while still being somehow submissive to him about it. Almost like you’re shaming him for wanting it, almost like you don’t want to admit that you want it too.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, trying hard not to think about how you’ve shifted entirely within the span of however long it’s been since the two of you started this. Is this how you act when you're horny?

“How could I not?” You confirm again with a confident tone, watching your boyfriend break in front of you. “Look at you.”

Jake can’t bear to look at himself, he knows he looks just about as pathetic as he’s always wanted. Never quite able to feel pathetic enough to satisfy him, only now understanding why he chased and chased the feeling to have you like this.

Controlling whether he can stick his dick in you, controlling whether he can fuck off and die.

That’s how it’s supposed to be in a relationship, but somehow it’s something else between both of you. For him, it’s like you’ve intentionally edged him for an entire week and for you it’s like you finally have control over your own sexuality again.

You feel powerful, and Jake wants to be entirely at your mercy.

“No one has ever wanted me this bad and waited.” You finally say to his intense and loving stare. “I want to give you anything you want.”

If he had a tail, it would be wagging so fast right now. It’s like he’s being given a treat for being exactly who you needed him to be, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing it.

“I could wait longer,” Jake mumbles, inching his lips to yours and letting his other hand cup one of your tits. “You could make me suffer,” He continues, whispering it right into your mouth. “Could lock me up and starve me of it.”

You lean your face back, a little shocked at his choice of words there.

“So you meant those things you said earlier?” You ask, remembering how he babbled on about wanting you to suffocate him, about how he wanted you to take everything from him.

“Do you want me to be honest?” He counters, now pressing his hips forward and letting his cock weep against your thigh.

You nod to him.

“I want you to take it all out on me.” He admits, gripping your tit in his hand tighter, hiking your leg up higher. “I want you to control every aspect of my life.”

Honestly, it shouldn’t be a thought that brightens your brain but it does. It sounds toxic, and you can’t even tell if he’s saying this just because he’s horny and is about two seconds from slamming you up and against this window with the force of his cock alone. Somehow, you love the thought of all of it.

“Every aspect?” You ask with interest. “What do you mean?”

He chuckles as he hangs his head, watching his length pulse constantly against your thigh and the panties hanging off of it. Only then does he release your tit and use your panties as a way to position his cock up, lining up with the wet of your core that is only for him.

“It means–” He starts, sliding into you with a paused moan, hiccuping slightly as he furrows his brows. “I want you to make me cry for you.” He continues with a tilt to his head as he watches the way you wince at all of the strength he has to hold you up like this, to slide into you like this. “I want you to hurt me, and I want you to love doing it.”

He bottoms out after that, holding you in place and feeling your walls struggle to adjust to the tight fit.

“It’s what you deserve.” He soothes out to you, kissing you once. “To take someone the same way you’ve been taken.”

You recoil instantly, pussy restricting in horror at the reminder of why you never do this with another person, but god the way he lifts on his toes just to plunge somehow deeper into you. The way his lips trap you even more, the way his force is nothing but fucking amazing to feel. All you can do is moan, bump your head against the window, and squeeze him.

“You said you wanted to give me what I want–” He slides out of you just a little bit. “So, can you?” He pushes back in, listening to you get wetter at his words and feeling your answer when you can’t seem to speak for yourself.

“I said I’d never hurt you, love,” He coos out this time, watching your body shift up against the window as he picks up some sort of rhythm, taking you the way he’s always wanted you. Right here, against the window. “But I never said that you couldn’t hurt me.”

Why the fuck is that so hot? God, why does a man like Jake offer you so much? Why is he doing this to you? Why is he doing it to himself? Why do you love it?

You find yourself nodding as you moan out, still not quite adjusted to his size and the way he made it fit into you in such a…pleasurable way. It doesn’t hurt at all, it feels good.

“Yeah, I knew you would.” He continues to talk as if he’s not internally losing it, but months worth of pretending, several orgasms today alone, and having your pussy hugging him just as tightly as he knew it would? That’s helpful.

And now, as your fingers grip at him through his harsh and deep thrusts, all he can do is hold your leg against him, lean forward, and stare directly into his apartment window. As if he’s mocking his former self, as if everything in the world has fallen into place. You wouldn’t leave him now, never, you’d be just as stupid as everyone else if that were the case.

He has faith in you, in himself, in this, and the way you drip all over him.

He knew you’d be perfect for him.

It doesn’t take long, really, for him to pull an orgasm out of you when he’s doing it this good. In fact, you don’t even have to reach a hand down to help pull it out of you by the time your body begins to stiffen up at it.

His pace is slow, his cock is deep, and fuck his entire body is on you. You couldn’t squeeze your hand down if you tried, in fact, you don’t think he’d even consider letting you do any of this on your own.

His grip is so strong, you can feel your sweat stick to the window as you slam your head down on his shoulder, sliding up and down the window with each of his powerful thrusts.

It feels so good to do this again.

“Jake–” You hiccup against his neck, listening to his heaved and choked breaths through each thrust. “I wish I had done this sooner.” You manage to get out, body tensing and relaxing by the minute with the threat of an orgasm. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

And honestly, you don’t know what’s gotten into you, nor do you fucking care. If you want to cry, you’ll fucking cry. It’s been too long since your tears hit you out of pleasure, or happiness, or fucking safety. At this rate, you’ll never let this man go.

“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you, arms shaking as he holds you up and thrusting in as deep as he can go.

You feel him stutter in his pace, his hips stopping as you feel his heavy cock pulsate against your clenching walls.

“Are you close?” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Is that why you’re sorry?”

You look at him with glassy eyes, smiling dazed at him as you shake your head.

“No,” You smile wider, running your hands up and into his hair, remembering what he asked for before. You tug, forcing his head to tilt back so that you can attach your lips to him. “I’m saying it because I want you to always make me feel this good.” You whisper against his pulse point, kissing it hard.

You feel him lose composure at that, his hips immediately moving again, slamming up and into you so hard that you can’t even hold your head still enough to kiss him there again.

“Ah, fuck,” He whimpers out, “why would you fucking say that to me right now?” He continues, relentlessly fucking himself against the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. “You still make me feel so insane, only you could do this to me.”

You smile, having learned that he appears to love the torture anyway.

“You love it though, don’t you Jakey?” You say, loving the way he loses it for you, learning how badly he’s wanted this, seeing him intend to stay.

And at those words, he can’t take it anymore. Fuck the camera, fuck anything else in the world that isn’t you. He ignores that wince on your face when he slips out of you, ignores the way the panties fall from his length, and focuses entirely on the way you hug him as he carries you straight to the couch.

Right there, he drops you and watches the way your tits bounce at the motion.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He says, feeling the arousal run through his veins, knowing you’d love to hear him say that while never knowing just how true it is. “How are you real?”

You smile, hiding your face as you feel his hands hold your thighs open. You know what he’s looking at, and you can’t force yourself to see him do it. Solely because you know it’s going to swell your heart so big that you’d only fear the day he wants to leave it empty.

And you don’t respond either, because you can’t. His fingers are spreading you open and you can hear him drop to his knees yet again for you. You wan’t to look so bad, but still, you fear the love in his eyes.

You fear and want all of it.

He hears the sharp inhale you give when he spreads you out, really inspecting the single spot on your body that no one on this earth should ever see aside from him.

“This is where it hurt the most, isn’t it?” He asks, staring into the hole he’s already fucked, watching it beg him for more despite his words that probably stab your soul.

You’ll never understand how he can take your pain and turn it into something you don’t mind hearing though. Yes, that’s where it hurt the most, and still, that’s where you want him the most.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks again, reaching an arm up and forcing you to look at him. “This is what you were so afraid of?” He continues, dipping down and rubbing his face directly into the folds and inhaling a deep breath.

“Y-yeah.” You choke out at the feeling, in awe of how you knew his eyes would make you terrified. He still stares up at you as he does it, pointing his glare straight through you and into your fucking spirit.

Only Jake can make you fear nothing else in this world aside from the thought of losing him.

“I’ll make it better,” He says, boosting his ego at the way your legs wrap around his head. “You’ll always want me here,” He continues, cooing out with each taste and lick of your budding arousal. “You’ll never want me to stop–”

No man has ever wanted you this bad while having you, even as you experienced the trauma of just that. Your ex wanted you physically, but something about the man drying to drown himself in your pussy right now makes you feel like he wants you on a level far deeper than what’s possible.

He’s eating you out like he wants to eat you whole. Like he could devour you, and never spit you out of his mouth.

“Shit, shit–” You moan, hands shooting down to his hair yet again, finding yourself loving the way his grown-out roots feel softer than the harsher dyed section of his hair. You tug harder than you have before, feeling his tongue search and yearn for everything you have to offer him.

“Mhm.” He mumbles with a mouth full of pussy, rolling his eyes back at how you do just as he suggested before. Rubbing his nose in it, letting him continue to lose himself in the point of all of his problems.

And it’s as if you forgot that this only happens to reach a point of coming. The experience alone feels like one long and drawn out orgasm already, it doesn’t take anything at all for him to get you there.

It’s like he already knows it too, because you go entirely silent with a held breath as he holds your hips and buries his tongue deep inside of you. He wants to feel it, he wants to taste it. And he suffers for it, really, neglecting his own cock and knowing he’s going to come through this alone anyway.

As expected, he does. Upon the first gush of your slick hitting his tongue, his cock pulses, his balls squeeze up, and he can feel it shoot out of him each time your pussy shakes against his suffocated mouth.

And your hands, so perfect in his hair, pulling without even knowing. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, this is more than he could have ever asked for.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By this point in your relationship, the two of you have moved so quickly that it doesn’t even scare you. In fact, if it slowed down at any point, you’d probably be preparing a suicide note simply because you don’t want to be in this world without Jake.

Since the first time you got intimate with him, it’s like it hasn’t stopped. You’re shocked at his thirst for you and even more shocked that someone so fucking perfect would waste his breath on you even for this long.

It hasn’t been that long, really, since the first time you touched him. A few days at most, but it’s like that moment solidified a lot for the two of you.

One, he’s not going to be sleeping in his own bed anytime soon or, ever, really. Two, you’ve learned through at least two more sessions of Jake’s mouth on you that he really does want you to live up to his requests. He makes it known how badly he wants you to make him suffer, how badly he needs you to give him everything he wants. Thankfully, he’s patient with your reluctance. And Three, your ex is no longer a threat.

Each message you receive, you just hand your phone to Jake and he takes care of it.

It doesn’t even translate in your head that you’ve been barred from answering your mother’s calls until the police show up at your door for a wellness check. Where, of course, Jake answers,

“Yeah, she’s here.” You hear his voice as you lay flat against your bed, heaving breaths as if he didn’t just have the tip of his dick in you. “Why?” You hear him question.

A few more muffled words and you hear the door close and his footsteps making his way to your room.

“Cops.” He dead-pans, “Your mom thinks you're dead.” he adds with an eye roll.

Your internal panic, a feeling you had once been so accustomed to that now feels almost foreign, takes over your body.

“Fuck, my mom!” You say in a fast breath, rushing onto your feet and throwing on a pair of his soiled sweatpants.

Jake hangs back but listens to your conversation from your hallway, listening intently to how you speak to other men, cops or not.

“Yeah,” You say, scratching your temple with shame. “I guess I didn’t realize she was calling me so much.”

Try five times a day.

“I’ll call her now, sorry for wasting your time.” You continue with that nervous chuckle that you used to use on him during your dates.

And then you’re back in the room, looking at him with a raised brow.

“Why didn’t you tell me my mom has been calling?” You ask, a little annoyed that it’s gotten to the point of freaking your mother out.

Jake shrugs, then looks at you apologetically.

“I don’t like when she forces you to talk about it.” He finally says, sulking his shoulders and huffing out. “I don’t like that she tells you to be careful around me.”

You roll your eyes, relieved that he’s just being himself and wanting to keep you happy.

“Still, you should have told me. She’s going to have a fucking heart attack thinking he showed up at my work place again.”

Jake’s entire brain stops working, his body going rigid as if the cold air outside is hitting him in full force.

Your eyes immediately widen as you slam your hand over your mouth. Fuck, you forgot that you told her in a hushed tone, explaining that it’s okay. That Jake wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

Fuck.

“He what?” Jake says, dumbfounded at the slip of your words.

“Jake, wait–” You try to get an explanation but he’s not having it.

“You haven’t been at work, what do you mean he showed up?” He glares, chest heaving as his heart rate picks up.

“It was from that day when you first stayed over,” You look at the floor apologetically. “I didn’t want to talk about it…” You trail off, feeling his energy hit you in the face at how he’s completely shifted from that loving, soft boyfriend you’re so used to.

“You kept that from me!?” He seethes out in disbelief. This whole time he thought he fucked your ex up enough to prove what would happen if he even fucking tried it. By you explaining that it happened just after Jake found him, that’s a direct insult.

A threat.

A fucking death wish.

“I didn’t–” You stutter trying to explain yourself. “I didn’t think it would matter since you were here. You were keeping me safe.”

“You lied to me?” He continues interrogating you, coming up to you and practically demanding an answer through his eyes.

You look away, nodding.

“You said you wanted me to keep you safe, what would have happened if you had to go to work again?” He drones on and on, seemingly stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell him. “What would happen if they called you to go in today?”

Already you’re starting to cry, feeling stupid for not making a bigger deal out of it. To be fair, not talking about it helped and you did intend to tell him at some point. That just…never happened.

“I would have asked you to stay with me at work.” You say, feeling numb as the fear of losing the man in front of you steals your every thought. “I’d have not gone. I’d have quit. I don’t know!”

Jake backs down at your words, only able to soften his rage if you’re the one who causes it.

“Baby,” His soft voice shocks you when you feel him come back to himself, as if to comfort the fear he just instilled in you. “I’m not mad.”

Yes he is, you know he is.

“Now you’re the one lying.” You argue, pushing him away only to feel his grip on you tighten.

“Am I?” He asks, urging you to keep talking. “Are you mad at me now?” He continues, intentionally pushing your buttons.

“Mad that I should have already known?”

“Mad that I didn’t let you talk to your mom?”

“Mad that I’m keeping you safe, while you keep putting yourself in the position to be hurt by him again?”

You stare at the floor.

“Mad that this is your fault?”

Yeah, you are mad.

“Fuck you, Jake.” You break, feeling his strangling fingers on your skin scratch and leave welts when you force yourself away from him. “Fuck you for all of that.”

“What else?” He presses, hanging on specific words. “Fuck me for what else?”

You just stare at him, and he can see the anger in your eyes.

“For not being there when it happened?” He asks gently. “For not killing him when I had the chance?”

When he had the chance.

“What do you–” You try to ask, but he just continues, closing back in on you.

Somehow, you need it, despite wanting to pull away every time.

“Fuck me for wanting this from you, right?” He says, much closer to you and dipping down to kiss you. “Fuck me for wanting you to be this mad, hmm?”

You break again, something deep within you spiraling into a different type of insanity you’ve never felt. You don’t feel trauma, you don’t feel scared, you feel…enraged.

“Fuck me for thinking you look perfect,” He whispers against your lips. “Fuck me to fuck me, fuck me to fight me, fuck me.”

The repeated words fit into your brain like they belong there. Like this anger is supposed to be filling you with pleasure rather than dread. Like you’re supposed to feel just as in love as you are mad.

“Just fuck me, baby.”

And god fucking dammit. How does he crawl into the depths of your brain, like a fucking roach, and kiss all of the areas you don’t know exist? How the fuck does he wake shit up inside of you that you never dreamed of having, or feeling, or wanting.

“I hate you.” You say, and meaning it too.

Because you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone more than you do now.

“Yeah, I bet you do.” He smiles, dipping his hand down into the sweats you put on and sliding into the same slick he had spilling out of you just before the pigs showed up. “I love it.” He chuckles against your lips when you refuse to moan at his touch.

You’re pushing against every good feeling inside of you right now, thinking only of how this rage spills out of you and against his fingers.

“So wet to hate me–” He says, pressing and pressing and pressing for you to just fucking– “Hit me.”

He sees your eyes shine at the very thought of how badly you must want to do that, unknowing of how much he wants it too. Needing it almost.

And oh, the moan he lets out when your weak hands raise to shove him back. He plays off of it, stumbling back to your bed just to fall on it. Waiting, knowing you’ll come take him for all he’s worth.

“Come on, love.” He encourages you. “Make me sorry.”

You hate him, and you hate that you love it. Love that he loves it, fucking adore that he wants this, he wants to let you do whatever you want to him.

To kick, cry, scream, release everything that’s been trapped in your head for years.

You don’t even falter, feeling it bubble up and overtake every thought. Dripping down your legs as if this is the only way you could ever fulfill your own pleasure again. Only now to you slide the pants back off of you, so horny out of your mind that all you can manage is to feel these emotions drip for him.

He watches you straddle him bare from the waist down, sees your breath shaking, and your lips quivering.

Jake knew you had it in you.

“Take them off.” You demand, rolling your eyes at the way he looks up at you with pure bliss.

“Hit me first.” He offers, feeling his cock strained against his own pants that he haphazardly threw on when he heard the knock at your door. “Hit me, and I’ll fuck the hate out of you.” He lies.

“Take them off.” You repeat, cold hands reaching down as you do it yourself, lifting just enough to shove them down far enough.

And god, the breath is knocked clean out of him with the way you just take him. You slide down perfectly, bottoming him out in one motion. He can see now that you need this perhaps even more than he does.

“God, come on baby.” He moans, feeling you just sit still on him.

“Jake,” You warn, running your cold hands up to his neck on instinct. “Shut up.” You squeeze.

The smile that forms on his face is pornographic at best, and drunk at worst. You see him love every instant of it, and you don’t want to admit that you do too.

You didn’t know it would feel so good to have a man’s neck in your hands, squeezing it just to shut him up. Releasing it just to hear him gasp out a praise.

“So good,” He praises, eyebrows knitted together as he loses himself to the way your pussy chokes his length. You’re not even fucking him, you’re just– “So perfect.” He continues, nearly wailing out at the immense love he feels inside.

And then, you do. You hit him. Power hungry and entirely at a loss for your own pleasure, you land a harsh and loud slap right against his face, only for him to moan louder.

Only for him to fuck up.

Only for him to grip your sheets so tight that you hear a rip.

Again. You slap him, feeling your anger slowly fizzle with each frantic moan he gives back.

Again, and again.

“Shit, you love that, don’t you?” He manages to say, feeling his cheeks sting with red-hot passion, only to be hit again, and again. “God, make it hurt.”

At this point, you know that you could never give him enough as the rage leaves your body entirely and it’s replaced with nothing but the need to just….fuck him. Never in your life have you ever been blinded by a need so badly, save for safety.

And you have that now, don’t you? You have Jake now, right where you want him, right he wants to be. He wants you to feel this, he made you feel this.

The first bounce felt like pure agony, slamming his cock into you by your own force, feeling him stretch you open, hearing it slap and echo against the walls.

“Make it hurt?” You finally say, pinching his cheeks together and forcing him to look at you. “I don’t think I could hurt you enough if I tried.” You admit, quite truthfully, mind you.

Jake gives you a crooked smirk.

“Try it anyway.” He coos, feeling the way you repeatedly arch your back just to ride him faster. “Could fill you up, right here, right now, flip you over and make you take it if you’re so worried that you can’t.”

It runs through you like a cold shiver. You don’t want to give up this power, you want to try.

“That’s big talk for someone asking to be choked right now.” You dead-pan at him, voice even and calm. You continue to move your hips, listening to his repeated moans with each breath. “So loud and needy for it too.”

Jake nods proudly and drunkenly, reaching his hands out to yours and forcing them back on his neck.

“I could be needier.” He says, pressing your hands against his airways.

You take over for him, choking his remaining words out of him and forcing him to moan.

“You said you’d make me take it?” You seethe out through your own pained moan, riding him so hard that you feel sensitive. “Like you think it would hurt me?”

He shakes his head rapidly, implying that you’re wrong to think that. Wanting to tell you that if he made you take it, you’d love every second of it. You wouldn’t tell him no.

“After promising you never would, Jake?” You question still, knowing he can’t answer. You squeeze harder as you watch his face darken, the blood rushing to burst in the whites of his eyes. “Is that it? You want to hurt me so that I hurt you back?”

He nods in a daze, wanting nothing more than to die like this now, or some other day. To hear your voice, feel your hands, and know that you’re fucking him through it.

“You don’t scare me.” You finally say, releasing the grasp and listening to the sharp inhale he takes in. “As much as I wish you did, you don’t.”

That’s all it takes really, knowing that he could work you like a puppet and you’d still love him. Why else would you say that? You wouldn’t fuck him like this if you didn’t mean it. Your mother long forgotten, the anger gone, it’s just a raw form of you and him right now.

Everything you’re saying is more truthful than he ever thinks you’ve been with him.

“Want me to?” He finally asks with a wet gasp as he continues to catch his breath. “I bet I could.”

“You can’t.” You say, now slowing your hips as your legs tire out, bracing yourself on his shoulders to take a breath.

“I can.” He says, immediately overpowering you. He sits up quick, flipping you right over and onto your back. “I can make you feel anything I want.” He whispers darkly to you. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest, lost entirely from this reality. “Anything you want.”

You just stare up at him, willing to accept his words even more when he slams his length into you, so deep that you feel nothing but the pain of it.

For the first time, he’s hurting you through pleasure alone.

“Could make you love it too,” He continues to dote on himself as he watches the sparkle in your eye dim. “You love it already, don’t you?”

“I’m not afraid.” You manage to mutter out through a guttural groan, wincing at the way he drives himself into you at such a speed that all you feel is pain.

“I can’t take you seriously when you talk like that.” He chuckles, feeling entirely in control of whatever entity is running his body right now. “I see you baby, you’re terrified to lose me.”

Your eyes die in that moment, because out of anything in this world, he’s pinpointed your biggest fear.

“So pretty when you’re scared too,” He hums out, not relenting at all with the force of his hips when he lets your legs fall around him, and he finds himself burying his face between your tits. “Maybe I should threaten to leave you.”

Instantly, you cry.

“Just so I can eat up these little tears you have for me.”

You wish he would shut up.

“So I can taste the way you come on me, and feel your pussy try and lock me here.” He smooths over your nipple at the words, slowing his hips and pulling out just to the tip. “Your body tells me more than you know, love.”

Your eyes roll up when his pointed thrust shoves your body across your sheets, your hands reach for his shoulders, clawing for any sense of normality to this moment.

“So quiet.” He lightens his own voice now, letting it fall against your collarbone in a tone just above a whisper. “So stubborn.”

Your mind awakens at the insult, hoping he’s right.

“To think I’d ever leave you.” He smiles, lifting up to meet your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He tastes your tears and it’s just enough for him to forgive you.

To forgive you for not hitting him enough, for not choking him until he died. To forgive you for even thinking you’d need to talk to your mother, and for fucking lying to him.

And only now does he go quiet, fucking you will full intent now that he’s already in your head at every turn and corner. He can tell with the way you don’t even realize your previous orgasm.

With the way it bubbled out and down his balls, hugging his cock so tightly that all he could do was keep fucking with your mind, toying with threats only to silence them.

And then, you inhale a sob, and breathe out his name, so pretty to your ears, even more beautiful to his own.

“Don’t leave me.” You chime out, body numb and emotions threatening you into a panic attack.

“I’m right here, love.” He chuckles. “You’re shaking.”

You are. More than you can even comprehend, your body is shaking from feeling everything and nothing at once, all the way up until you do feel something.

“Ah, shit.” You cry out, hugging his body so tightly against you. “Right there–”

And Jake does it, angling his hips to repeatedly hit the spot inside of you. Knowing you’re sensitive, knowing you can take it, knowing that he can’t when he feels every drop in your body push him out of you.

Instantly he plunges back in, listening to the wet sounds of all that love you must have for him. He can barely move in this suffocating hug as your body shakes and quivers more than it ever has, even through your past traumas, even through the cold nights this city offers.

He has spent you and fucked you dry.

“There she is,” He echoes into your ear. “The girl of my dreams.”

The only energy left in you is enough to give him a smile before your tunnel vision fades into nothingness.

It feels calm in the darkness he gives you, and even calmer when you wake up feeling as if all of this was a dream.

It wasn’t though, because you can feel the way you’re still leaking all over your bed. Your own slick mixed with his, and you don’t even remember when or how he orgasmed because he certainly was taking his time before you initially fainted, but you’re glad he did. You think he is too, with the way he clings to you like a puppy, as if he didn’t just fuck reality straight out of you.

Lending you the gift of floating, and of pain you find yourself to love.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up the next morning felt like you were a new person and you couldn’t be happier to see the saddest version of you die. The only fear you need to have is that Jake may some day choose to leave, and he said himself that he never would.

You trust him more than anyone, more than yourself even, considering he’s managed to force you into facing so many versions of yourself that you didn’t even know you had.

This is the first morning you’ve woken up without your skin crawling and you can’t help but shake him awake, destroying that blushed and sleeping face of his.

“Jake,” You shake him, feeling him stir instantly and lend you a crooked smile. “Wake up.”

You listen to his morning stretch as his body vibrates in a yawn, and then he’s nuzzling his face even further into your naked chest.

For what feels like hours, you find yourself engaging in pillow talk. Logging into work? Long forgotten. Calling your mother? Forgotten. The pain in your body? Ignored.

You tell him everything. Every detail of your life, your first memory, your first laugh and cry. All of the times your heart has been shattered, your least favorite colors and favorite words in the world. And he just…listens.

He nods, he smiles, he coos and kisses you throughout all of it.

And then–

“You know, a while back before we met, I came home and noticed some of my things were missing and messed with. I can’t help but feel like he’s known where I’ve been this whole time.”

Jake stiffens in your grasp before relaxing. It happened so fast that you don’t think anyone but you would have noticed it.

“Some of my panties were gone, and the batteries in my toys went missing weeks ago–not that it matters now or anything.” You continue, watching his face intently. “ At first I thought that maybe I was just forgetful but– now i know that it really was him.” You pause, smiling at him. “I’m just kind of waiting now, wondering if he’s ever going to try and do it again.”

“Do you want me to kill him?” Jake chuckles out as if to offer a funny little solution, one that he has genuinely considered more times than he can count. And he should have already, honestly.

You feel warmer at the way he makes jokes, but you know better than anyone that Jake jumps into action driven only by rage at times.

“He won’t come near you again, love, haven’t I proved that to you already?” He continues, imagining the blood of his man on his fists again. Imagining the way his bones would crack so beautifully.

You nod in an almost shy way to him.

“You’re safe with me.” He says, wrapping his arms around himself as you cradle him. “You’re safe with me.” He continues, repeating it more to himself because he feels as though he can’t fail you again, “You’ve always been safe.”

You haven’t believed words so deeply until you met him.

“He already fucking knows–” He whispers shortly, cutting himself off. “I’ll kill him.” He whispers a bit louder, uncaring if you heard that first slip of his words.

Something in your brain floods at those words. A confirmation that you’ve seen him break before, and it wasn’t your imagination. Your protective, loving, and sweet boyfriend has a side to him that you’ve yet to truly see. Those words were more believable than any of the sweet things he’s ever said to you.

And still, you almost want to encourage it, reminding yourself of the image of your ex the day he showed up, all bruised up. And then to the image of Jake with his own little battle scar.

Deep down you think you knew what happened.

And you still wonder how such a perfect man fell into your lap? Your bruised up, pain-loving boyfriend, breaking his soft persona and showing you a glimpse of something that feels….unnervingly beautiful to you.

Unsure, almost, you feel. As happy as you are that he lied to you, you try to not think of how Jake found your ex with nothing more than an out-of-context description of your abuse. You try not to think of the way he looked away from you when you mentioned the items in your apartment that went missing.

You try not to think about how close he lives to you, and how he always managed to show up when you couldn’t hang out.

How all of his interests matched your own, up until he never spoke about them again when he started staying with you.

How he only looks at you, how he only talks to you, and about you.

How he always knew what to say to you.

You try not to think about how you saw him toss his own laundry into your washer many nights ago, seeing a glimpse of what you thought could have been a pair of your own missing panties. Or how he always accidentally picked up your toothbrush rather than his own in the mornings.

You push those thoughts far into the back of your mind, knowing that you were just being paranoid, grasping to not trust a single person in this world as you fall into this life with him. Even if all of those instances were with purpose on his end, you know you’d simply accept them as normal. You’d accept him, you wouldn’t think twice.

Jake is your only safety. He would never do anything to harm you, he’s proved that.

You hold his head tighter against your chest, breathing out a sigh and accepting everything at face value, pushing back the slight doubt in your head that everything he has done for you, to you, and with you, isn’t normal.

“Did you tell him already?” You sigh out in a calmer tone, soothing him with your fingers in his hair. “That you’d kill him? Is that really why you had that bruise?”

Jake stiffens under your grasp briefly.

“What do you m–” He starts.

“I won’t ask how,” You cut him off. “But thank you.”

He relaxes, thumbs now rubbing hearts into your skin, stomach bubbling in butterflies.

“I did.” He now admits reluctantly, feeling dangerously close to a truth you don’t need to see or know about. “I couldn’t just let another person think that you still belong to them.”

You pause, then nuzzle closer to him.

“I knew from the first time I saw you that I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you.” He continues, spilling and spilling. “I knew that you’d be mine.”

You try not to think too hard about it, asking out gently and instead choosing to just love him harder.

“When was the first time you saw me?”

Jake goes silent and tries to read the air in the room, sensing how relaxed you are against him.

“Eighteenth of October at the supermarket. We both made spaghetti for dinner that night.” He lies, never intending to admit that the first time he saw you was through your window. Never admitting that he actually already knew you by that eighteenth of October. That he followed you to the market.

He says it so confidently, and the fact that he’s right about what you cooked should scare you. The fact that you must have seen him that day too should make you feel unnerved.

You choose to ignore that too.

“Was your spaghetti good?” You ask, allowing yourself to spiral into the safety that he offers you. The image of your bruised ex boyfriend bringing joy to you, the idea of Jake keeping his promises making your stomach tingle with even brighter joy.

“No.” He admits with a chuckle. “Yours was probably better.”

“You really would kill him, wouldn’t you?”

Jake nods.

You trust him.

He’s not lying.

He would never lie to you.

Him knowing what you cooked that night is a coincidence. Him remembering the date and month is just him being mindful. Your lost panties must have gotten tangled in his laundry, surely. He found your ex because you probably let sensitive information slip without realizing it.

He met your mother and uncle by coincidence.

He’s the perfect man by chance, and you’re lucky to have him.

“I love you, you know.” You say, feeling him immediately shift away from your chest to look at you.

The look in his eye when he’s immediately getting on top of you, it’s still as if he’s about to wisp away with you in his arms to another realm. You’ve already been there before, and your body warms at the thought.

“What did you say?” He asks, voice shaking and somewhat far away from your own dissociated reality.

“I love you.” You say again, watching his lips quiver, and feeling his hands squeeze you.

He did it. He’s won.

And at the end of the day, you don’t think Jake could ever lose. After all, you’ve never felt so safe in a grasp as tight as this one, as painful as this one. You’ve never wanted a man to leave his fingerprints on you so bad.

As you look at him, seeing him lose himself from reality, you follow suit. Losing yourself with him, feeling that painful grasp on you turn into begging hands. Swelling him under your palms, soothing his stinging skin with your lips, listening to him encourage you, knowing that if your ex ever tried to step into this room, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

oh, the horrors, amirite?

this is the last of the fic. there is not a part three.

taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs

#enhypen smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jaeyun smut

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gojoluvs · 22 days

Text

Forever yours.

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo,

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message also sorry for the spelling errors I didn’t have time to edit :c

9.5k words

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Feeling the warmth of the sun peek through the window, you awoke with a sense of longing.

Feeling the bed empty, you just sighed, realizing that Satoru was nowhere to be found and here you were, laying down on your honeymoon bed. Closing your eyes, all you could do was imagine how you used to wake up next to Toji, and how happy he looked to see you awake. You remembered how he used to caress you after you shared your good morning kiss, and tears began to well up in your eyes as you longed for those moments once again. But you also knew that those memories were in the past and that you had moved on.

"No, I swear to you," you could hear Satoru arguing with someone.

His voice was filled with frustration and desperation, as if he was trying to convince the person of something very important. His words were muffled, but his tone was unmistakable – he was pleading with them to believe him. Despite not knowing the context of the conversation, it was clear that Satoru was in a heated argument.

Confused, you got out of bed feeling a bit sore from last night's activities. As Satoru clenched his phone, you noticed him heading outside to talk to someone. You couldn't help but wonder who he was arguing with and what it could possibly be about.

As Gojo's friend spoke on the phone, he seemed to grow more and more agitated. "Listen Geto, please keep her distracted for now. I know how she gets when I'm out of town," he commanded, clearly worried about something.

"Don't worry, I've got it covered," replied Geto, Gojo's trusted friend and partner in crime. "I'll make sure to keep her entertained and away from her phone." Geto knew that Gojo's girlfriend was prone to constantly checking her phone, so he made a mental note to keep her busy with activities and conversations.

Noticing your presence, he began walking towards you, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Listen, I got to go. Just please do what I tell you," he pleaded before hanging up and letting out a heavy sigh.

"Who was that?" You questioned, watching as he walked past you and into the door. Rolling his eyes, you followed him inside. As he walked towards his desk, he replied, "Just another annoying colleague." You couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so irritated by this person's presence.

Right, you almost forgot that this man hated your guts. It was clear that he didn't want to be anything more than acquaintances, let alone friends. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

"We have a long day today, so wear your best outfit because I'm taking you out." Walking into the restroom, he closed the door.

As you stood there in awe, you couldn't help but wonder why he was suddenly taking you out. Did he have important business associates in town? Or was he trying to impress someone by showing off his new wife? The possibilities swirled through your mind as you anxiously waited for him to reveal the reason behind this unexpected outing.

Walking back outside you grabbed your phone hoping you could take a picture of the sunset and post it later. Despite not being as famous and recognized as Satoru you did have a hefty amount of followers.

You quickly snapped a picture before heading back inside. Your heart dropped when you saw a notification, "Toji zen'in added to their story." Biting your lip, you clicked on the notification, taking you to his story. Your heart broke as you saw a photo of him and another woman.

To make matters worse, there was small writing in the photo that said, "Happy birthday to one of my greatest friends ever." It was clear that Toji was hanging out with other women now.

All you could do was feel disappointed that you were no longer in his life. Toji was your first love, your first best friend and your first everything. Letting him go now was possibly the worst thing you could ever do. With a longing sigh you walked back inside the house, deciding what you were going to wear for later.

As you stood in your closet, staring at your clothes, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. Toji was the one who always helped you pick out your outfits and now he was gone. You never thought you would have to make these decisions alone again. With a heavy heart, you chose an outfit and got ready for the evening ahead, trying your best to push away the thoughts of Toji and the pain that accompanied them.

"You would look better if you wore white, compliments your face." he said, snapping you back to reality. Raising an eyebrow, you couldn't help but question his statement.

"Does it really compliment my face more?" you asked, slightly skeptical. He simply shrugged in response, leaving you to ponder if his opinion was genuine or just a ploy to get you to wear white.

You could see his tall figure leaning on the door frame. He had some black pants on but his hair was still wet. As you tried to turn away, you couldn't help but feel flustered at the sight of his bare chest. Quickly turning back around to change, you tried to push the thoughts out of your head.

Before you knew it, you were already inside a Rolls Royce that Satoru had rented. You were in the front seat, watching the clouds slowly move as you thought about your new life back home. You used to work for Toji's company, but now that you had split up with him, you had to figure out your next move.

Would you stay in the same industry or try something completely new? It was a daunting thought, but you were excited for the possibilities that lay ahead.

As you stared at the ground, lost in thoughts, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. If only you had followed through with your feelings for Toji, maybe you would have a different life now. But instead, you chose to marry Satoru, hoping for a better future. Yet here you were, still struggling and hoping for a job from your husband's family.

And as you thought about Satoru and his lover, you couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't taken the next step in their relationship after dating for so long. Perhaps things would have been different if you hadn't married him. But it was too late for what-ifs, as you were now stuck in a bittersweet limbo, unsure of what the future held for you.

The constant thoughts and questions about why your father chose the Gojo family continued to linger in your mind. You couldn't understand why he would choose them over all the other families in the neighborhood.

You couldn't recall ever being close to the Gojos, especially Satoru, who seemed to ignore you most of the time. The only time he ever showed any kindness towards you was when he gave you his umbrella on a rainy day in high school. But even then, you could sense his disdain towards you. You couldn't help but wonder why he never showed any interest in you, even though you knew you were not the most attractive girl, you were sure you were still worthy of someone's attention.

You still remembered the day your family got invited to one of their annual big parties. You had no friends there, only Satoru. Despite feeling like a lost puppy, you followed him around until he suddenly turned on you. He told you to leave him alone and that he didn't want to be associated with someone like you. To this day, you are still confused as to what you did wrong to get on his bad side.

"We're going to be meeting some of my friends who stay by here so please, be at your best." nodding your head all you could do was keep your head low.

You just wanted to go home. forget about this whole stupid marriage. However, as you follow along to meet your soon-to-be spouse's friends, you can't help but feel a sense of dread and sadness. You know that you're only going through with this marriage for the sake of your family's business and reputation, and not because of love.

Your heart aches as you remember your true love, who you had to leave behind for this arrangement. You can only hope that your true love is happy and that someday you can be together again.

You might've been married to Satoru but your heart only belonged to one man. The man who helped you throughout everything. He was your confidant, your best friend, and your soulmate. The one who knew you better than anyone else and loved you unconditionally.

Despite your marriage to Satoru, your heart never wavered and remained devoted to this man who had been there for you through thick and thin. No matter what obstacles you faced, he was always by your side, providing unwavering support and love. He was the true love of your life, and no amount of time or distance could ever change that.

Hopefully Toji would wait for you, because you knew deep down you wanted only him. This marriage meant absolutely nothing to you and you were going to keep it like that. You couldn't risk losing your true feelings for Satoru, no matter how strong they were, and you were determined to keep them buried deep inside.

You couldn't let yourself fall for him, because if you did, you were afraid of what might happen and how it would affect your life.

As you sat in the passenger seat, watching as the car passed by the city of Santorini, you couldn't shake off the feeling of anxiety. Meeting his friends for some reason made you feel scared and uncertain. Did they know that this marriage was fake? Did they believe his lies? You couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the truth came out.

You knew your sole purpose in this arranged marriage was to give birth to an heir to their company. You always wanted kids but you wanted to have them with the man you loved. However, you were forced into this marriage and knew that you couldn't do anything about it. Your heart broke knowing that you would never have the opportunity to have children with the person you truly loved.

Despite the challenges, you were determined to give this child the best life possible. You knew that their parents may not have loved each other, but you were committed to making sure their upbringing was not affected by it. You were determined to provide a loving and nurturing environment for them, and you were ready to face any obstacles that may come your way.

feeling the car arubtly stopped you raised your head. Seeing a beautiful beach house in front of you. Satoru rolled down the window pressing the small button to talk in the intercom in the gate.

"Its Satoru Gojo, im here for the party." he said. Greeting the guard and gave his name, waiting for the gate to open. As the car slowly made its way up the winding driveway, you couldn't help but admire the stunning architecture of the beach house.

The sleek design, the ocean view, and the lush landscaping all added to the allure of this luxurious property. You couldn't wait to explore and relax in this beautiful setting.

You quickly grabbed your purse and headed out to the car. As you closed the door behind you, the wind gushed and blew your hair gently. The chilly atmosphere sent shivers down your spine. Suddenly, you felt Satoru's arms wrap around your waist as he led you towards the entrance of the house.

Before you entered inside he stopped you, "wait, take out your phone and take a picture of us together. post it later." he said. Nodding you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Leaning your head towards satoru, you smiled.

Before you could even protest, he snatched your phone and stuffed it into his pocket. "You won't be needing this today. I'm keeping it until later," he stated sternly, giving you a piercing look.

The door opened and you were greeted with a tall man with blonde hair. "Satoru, nice to see you." He said hugging him before landing his gaze at you. "I see you brought a guest, i'll tell shoko." he said smiling at you before motioning to come inside.

The man, whom Satoru introduced as his friend Kento Nanami, smiled brightly at you. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said with a warm handshake. His blonde hair was neatly styled, and his tall frame exuded confidence.

The man's words were barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves. He gestured towards the door leading to the back, which opened up to a stunning view of the beach.

"Everyone's outside if you'd like to follow me," he repeated, beckoning the others to join him. "And feel free to come by anytime, the beach is always open for our guests." With a smile, he stepped outside.

There was a pleasant atmosphere, with everyone dressed in bright summery colors. Soft classical music played in the background, while the sound of people chatting filled the air.

The house was undoubtedly expensive, but its breathtaking view of the beach made it worth every penny. Its grand size and stunning surroundings left you feeling awestruck.

"Is that who I think it is?" said a woman with long brown hair, her slight eye bags only adding to her undeniable beauty. She seemed to be in deep thought, her gaze fixed on the figure walking towards her. As they got closer, she couldn't believe her eyes - it was her childhood best friend who she hadn't seen in years.

"Shoko," Satoru smiled before embracing the woman. "How have you been? It's been a while since we last saw each other."

Shoko smiled warmly and replied, "I've been good, thank you. How about you?"

"I've been good as well," he said, introducing you to his friend. As you shook her hand, you couldn't help but notice the warmth in her smile. "And this is my wife, Y/N," he continued.

"I see geto has been putting in the work," he said, placing a hand on the baby bump she had.

"Don't say that... It was unexpected, but yes, Geto is the father." She smiled, placing her hand over his. "I never thought I would be doing this with him, but I couldn't be happier." They both looked down at the baby bump.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal at the mention of a baby, especially when Satoru had touched her belly with such adoration. It was a harsh reminder that he only wanted you for a child, nothing more. You looked at her with a mixture of sadness and longing, unable to find the words to express your feelings.

Satoru was casually talking to shoko, making comments about her pregnancy and how happy he was for her and geto. You stood there baffled that he had the audacity to act so kindly to them but never to you. Deep down you wondered how he'd be if you'd never married him.

Despite the amount of people at the party, you couldn't shake the feeling of shame and regret for being there. The sight of the other woman, who was most likely his true love, only added to your feelings of inadequacy.

You couldn't help but think that he never truly loved you, and never will, because of the arranged marriage your father forced upon you. You didn't want to show your tears in public, so you silently told yourself to "suck it up." But deep down, you couldn't ignore the fact that his lover must have had it worse than you, being in love with a man who only saw her as a pawn in a business deal. You couldn't help but feel envious of her freedom.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment towards Satoru and Shoko. You knew you would have to live with him until you bore a child of his, but the thought of being left again made your heart ache. You longed for true companionship and love, but instead, you were forced to endure a loveless marriage for the sake of bearing an heir. The loneliness and emptiness you felt only grew stronger with each passing day, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly all life had in store for you.

Your silently closed your eyes, letting the smell of the beach fill your nose. Exhaling, trying to recompose yourself after almost crying. You licked your lips before putting on a smile and opening your eyes again. You couldn't help but feel grateful for the peaceful setting of the beach and the calming sound of the waves crashing against the shore. It was the perfect place to gather your thoughts and regain control of your emotions. As you took a deep breath, you felt a sense of relief wash over you, knowing that you were able to overcome your emotions and put on a brave face.

You walked towards satoru, your heels clicking with each step. You hooked your arm with his before engaging in the conversation he was having.

"So, will you be the godmother and godfather of my child?" She said scrunching her nose. You were taken aback by her request, unsure if you were ready for such a responsibility. Your husband's hesitant look mirrored your own thoughts. You

You took a deep breath before finally answering, "We would be honored." Shoko's smile widened as she thanked you both, and you couldn't help but feel excited for the journey ahead as godparents to her child.

As he walked away, you couldn't help but notice the look of concern on his face. You wondered what could be going on inside his mind and if everything was okay. Shoko's presence also made you feel a bit uneasy, as if she knew something that you didn't. You found yourself anxiously waiting for his return, hoping that he would come back and explain the sudden tension in the air. "It'll get better."

"What do you mean?" you asked, turning to face her with a confused expression. She tucked a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear as she looked at you with a pitiful expression.

"I know about everything, but please just give him a chance," she pleaded with a heavy sigh, placing her hand on her belly and starting to rub it. "I know it may seem like he hated you, but the truth is, he doesn't. He's just struggling to deal with his own emotions, Y/N." She looked at You with compassion, hoping to ease the tension between you and Satoru. "Please, give him a chance to make things right."

"I know it may be difficult for you to understand, but there were things that happened before you came into the picture," she explained with a sigh. "Him and Jiiyuu had a long history before you arrived, and it's not your fault that he's acting this way." As you stared at her, you couldn't help but feel baffled by her words. How could he blame you for something that happened before you even knew him?

You avoided her gaze, staring at the floor you just wanted to disappear. To never been seen again, maybe then you could feel loved. Despite not knowing Satoru as much and just being recently married your heart ached. You knew him for almost all your life and for him it was like you were a mere bug in his life, easy to be forgotten.

The pain of unrequited love consumed you as you stood there, unable to face the woman you had spoken to. You couldn't help but feel invisible, ignored and insignificant in the eyes of the one you loved. No matter how much time and effort you put into your relationship, it seemed like you were never enough for them. And as you stood there, longing for their love and attention, you couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it to continue chasing after someone who would never truly see you.

"I see," your voice barely audible. You felt the need to swallow, holding back your tears you continued to look at the ground.

"Just please," She grabbed your hands placing hers on top of yours. As her warm hands consumed yours, you felt the sudden feeling of coldness gone, even if just for that simple moment she stared at you. "Give him a chance," she pleaded, her eyes filled with sincerity and hope.

In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of doubt and hesitation fade away as you considered her words. Maybe, just maybe, she was right and you should give him a chance. You had to remember he lost someone he loved too.

You smiled kindly at her, thanking her before going off to find your husband. You bit your lips trying to spot your white haired husband but it didn't take you long. You spotted him speaking animatedly with Kento and another man wearing glasses.

You debated on walking towards him, what if you were a nuisance? Or what if he just didn't want to try in this marriage as you did. These thoughts swirled in your head as you stood at a distance, unsure of what to do. You didn't want to bother him or make things more difficult, but you also couldn't help but feel hurt and frustrated by his lack of effort in the marriage. You were torn between approaching him and confronting him, or simply walking away and accepting that things may never change.

Your thoughts were abruptly disturbed when you saw a man with pinkish hair approaching you. He stood tall and had two small tattoo markings on his face. As he got closer, you noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes and your heart began to race.

"What's a pretty lady doing out here alone, huh?" he said, grinning as he stuck out his hand in a polite manner. You kindly smiled back, unaware of who the man was. You didn't mind the company and thought it would be nice to have some conversation.

"Oh please, you must have me confused. I'm no pretty lady," you giggled, correcting the stranger. You then introduced yourself and accepted his hand, shaking it firmly before he introduced himself in return.

"I'm Ryomen Sukuna," he introduced himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he stuck his hands into his pant pockets. Despite his playful demeanor, it was clear that he was a handsome man. "Nice to meet you, Y/N Gojo."

"So tell me, are you here alone or with someone?" Tilting your head to where your husband stood you sighed.

"Im with my husband, you might know him actually." He raised one eyebrow, pouting his lips he looked at the crowd trying to guess which one was it.

"Hm, is it that ugly fella with the black hair?" You giggled, rolling your eyes at him. You shook your head in denial. "No, that's actually some random person I don't know," You replied with a smile. "But nice try."

"Try again." You said, shaking your head as you grabbed a pastry from the pastry table. You couldn't resist indulging in one before heading back to your seat. You had made your way over to the table without even realizing it, too absorbed in the conversation with a certain man.

"Oh I see, you're talking about Gojo," he said, pausing to point his finger directly at where your husband was sitting. "That albino looking guy," he added with a smirk.

Before you could even engage in an actual conversation, you were pulled away from the man, your husband standing in front of you defensively. "Don't talk to my wife," he said, his tone filled with jealousy and possessiveness. It was clear that he didn't trust you and didn't want anyone else to have a chance to get close to you.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his lips. He had always found Satoru's rigid attitude towards relationships amusing. But now, as he leaned in closer to Gojo, he couldn't resist teasing him about his own love life. "Oh please, funny coming from someone with..." he paused dramatically, enjoying the way Satoru's expression shifted. "with a lover."

"I can't believe you would choose that disgusting excuse for a person over a mature, respectable woman like her." He said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice. He then quickly composed himself and found his way back to his seat. Satoru grabbed onto your arm, pulling you along with him to your seat as well.

You could feel the tension in the air as you avoided his gaze, knowing that he was fuming with anger. He was visibly biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to control himself, his anger only intensifying at the mention of his lover and the insult Sukuna had thrown his way. Despite the fact that you were the one wearing the ring, it was clear that he did not care about you at all, and it was painfully evident in that moment.

You gripped the fabric of your white dress, feeling the soft material between your fingers. As you ran your hands over the delicate fabric, you couldn't help but admire the intricate stitching and the way the dress hugged your curves perfectly. The softness of the fabric against your skin made you feel elegant and confident, something you hadn't been feeling in a while.

Shoko smiled as she addressed the guests, her voice projecting through the microphone. "Thank you all for coming, we'll be having games soon as per every baby shower has one. These games are a fun way for everyone to participate and celebrate the new arrival. We hope you enjoy them and have a great time!"

Truth be told, you wanted to run and escape from this form of everyone's expectations. You longed to return to your old life, free from the pressure and obligations that came with being the chosen one for an arranged marriage. You felt sorry for yourself for being so naive, thinking that Satoru would just accept the situation without any objections. In all honesty, who would want to be in your position?

However, you couldn't help but feel envious of the vastness and freedom that the sea represents. You longed to be able to travel and explore without any responsibilities or worries holding you back. As you gazed at the sea, you couldn't help but compare your stagnant and unfulfilling marriage to the endless possibilities that the sea seemed to offer.

You stayed staring at the sea, lost in thought about your miserable life. You wondered if maybe being with Toji, your best friend and lover, could be like the sea - a source of solace and escape from your troubles. The rhythmic crashing of the waves and vast expanse of the ocean seemed to offer a sense of peace and possibility that you longed for in your daily life.

The wind gushed over you, a few of your hairs falling out of place. Bringing up your hand to fix it you tucked your hair behind one ear. You longed to be loved, to be someones everything again. Maybe it was regret you were filling, or maybe you just felt like you deserved absolutely nothing. As you sat there, the emptiness inside you grew, and you couldn't help but wonder if anyone would ever see you for who you truly are and love you unconditionally. The loneliness and longing for a deep connection weighed heavily on your heart, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing from your life.

You never wanted to be the cause of someone else's heartbreak, yet here you are, living a life that was meant for someone else. You can't help but feel guilty and unworthy of any love. Every time you looked at Satoru, you were reminded of the fact that you were not the one they were meant to be with. It's a constant internal struggle and you can't help but wonder if things would have been different if you had just followed your heart.

"Y/N?" You're thoughts were interrupted by Shoko, her hand sticking out to help you get up. "It's you and Satoru turn for the blindfolded diaper game."

You took her hand, following her to the center. Everyones eyes looking at you and your husband. They handed you a blindfold. Grabbing the soft fabric they placed it on your eyes, tightening it before starting the game. Every other couple had their own doll, having to change the diaper before anyone else did.

"Go!" Shoko giggled seeing everyone start.

As the game began, you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and giggles from the other couples. You and your husband carefully felt for the diaper pins and began to change the doll's diaper, trying to do it as quickly and accurately as possible. The crowd cheered and laughed as the game progressed, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with the other couples.

Despite the blindfold, you and your husband worked together seamlessly, and in the end, you were declared the winners. As the blindfold was removed, you were surprised.

"Y/N and Satoru take that one! Seems like she's a lucky lady, huh? He knows how to change diapers!" exclaimed one of Shoko's friends.

You chuckled awkwardly as you found your seat, sitting down next to your husband. "I didn't know you knew how to change diapers," he said with a genuine confused look. You looked down and shrugged, "I guess I learned something new."

You caught a look on his phone, seeing he was texting a certain number you remembered seeing.

before you knew it the day had come to an end, you were already back at the Hotel cave you had rented out. You felt mentally and physically exhausted. For some reason you felt more at peace now. Maybe it was because you had come to realization that you could never make Satoru love you, but yet you knew you had to try. At elast for Toji, his last words being "Take care of yourself, okay?” It hurt so bad.

Satoru was in the restroom getting changed, practically forgetting about your existence. You stood outside, feeling a mix of emotions - irritation at being forgotten and a sense of loneliness.

“Toji… Please never forget about me.” As you stood there, lost in your memories of Toji, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing and sadness. Even though he was gone, he was still a big part of your life, and you could never forget about him. The thought of him fading from your mind was unbearable. You hoped that wherever he was, he knew how much you missed him and how much he meant to you.

You threw yourself on the bed, kicking off your heels and undressing yourself, you unclipped your bra and grabbed a big T-shirt stopping as you recognized it. It was one of Tojis shirts or rather as he said, his “lucky” shirt. He had explained to you that he met you with this shirt on so he had gave it the title the “lucky” shirt as he was lucky enough to meet you.

As you held the shirt in your hands, memories of him flooded your mind. You remembered how he would always wear this shirt on your date nights, how he would always smell like his cologne mixed with your perfume when he wore it. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that you would never see him wear it again. You threw the shirt back onto the bed and collapsed onto the pillows, wishing you could turn back time and hold onto those happy moments forever. But now, all you had left were memories and his "lucky" shirt.

Hearing the doorknob unlock you quickly grabbed the shirt and put it on, leaving you in just ur panties and Toji’s shirt. You grabbed the soft sheets of the bed and pulled it down, going under the sheets you faced away from Satoru who has just gotten out the restroom. You didn’t dare to say a word to him.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you pretended to be asleep. You didn't want to face the awkwardness of the situation and you hoped he would just leave you alone. But then you felt the bed shift as he climbed in next to you. Your heart raced as you felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you close.

"Why do you smell different, more..." he paused, slowly sitting up from the bed and turning on the small lamp next to him. "You smell like cologne," he said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He couldn't quite place the scent, but it was definitely different from the usual lavender and vanilla perfume you wore.

You tried to reply before he took the shirt off you, “Its Toji’s isnt it.” He stared at you not daring to blink, his intense gaze making you feel vulnerable and exposed. You could see the anger and betrayal in his eyes as he realized you had been wearing another man's shirt.

"I didn't think it was such a big deal," you covered your chest with your arms as a shiver ran through your body. The coldness of the hotel cave was biting, causing goosebumps to emerge on your skin. You could feel the chill in the air, but it was nothing compared to the icy feeling in your heart.

Satoru gripped the shirt before throwing it, most likely hiding it later on. “A big deal? my wife wearing another’s man shirt? not a big deal?” He scoffed grabbing one of his shirts and throwing it to you.

"You must be stupid or something," he muttered, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "And don't pretend to be shy. I've seen your breasts before." With a scoff, he turned off the lamp and lay back down in bed next to you. You couldn't believe his audacity and felt hurt by his crude words. It was clear that he didn't value or respect you, and you couldn't help but question why you still stayed with him.

Today was your last day of the so called “honeymoon”.

You loathed every moment spent here with Satoru. You envied anyone who didn't have to endure being in his presence. You would rather be dead than ever come back here with him again.

You hated the fact that you married such a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel conflicted, as his sleeping figure appeared so peaceful and innocent. It was hard to reconcile this image with the way he treated you, with the hurtful words he would say and the way he would make you feel small and insignificant. Yet, here he was, arms wrapped around you, his touch so gentle and loving. It was a constant battle between your heart and your mind, torn between loving and loathing this man. But in this moment, as you awoke to his sleeping figure, you couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different between you two.

As expected, he wasn't wearing a shirt and you were surprised to find that you weren't wearing one either. You couldn't help but feel a rush of heat to your cheeks as you realized you were practically skin to skin with him. The close proximity and lack of clothing added an unexpected tension to the situation, making your heart race and your mind race with thoughts of what could happen next.

Despite your initial attempts to escape his grasp, you found yourself unable to resist the comforting presence of the man in front of you. You couldn't help but feel drawn to this peaceful version of him, free from his usual toxic behavior. You gently placed your hand on his smooth, shiny skin, reveling in the softness of his cheek and the fullness of his lips. Your thoughts turned to kissing him, but you quickly scolded yourself for even considering such a thing. He may be different now, but he was still the same man who had caused you so much pain.

You gently brushed one of his hairs out of his face, revealing his forehead. With a sigh, you spoke his name, "Satoru." You shook his shoulder, hoping to rouse him from his slumber.

His blue icy eyes staring back at you, he released his grip and rubbed his face tiredly. "Mm, Gmorning," he grumbled, clearly not a morning person. Despite his rough exterior, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort in his presence.

“Today's the last day of our vacation and I want to do something memorable, something that will make this trip even more special. Please, can we do something fun and romantic together?” He let out a deep sigh before getting up from the bed.

Without saying a word, he walked straight to the restroom, leaving you feeling disappointed and unheard. You could hear the sound of the faucet being turned on, a clear indication that your requests were being ignored.

Once again you were alone, somethinf you were going to have to get used to now. You got up grabbing the white t-shirt your husband gave you last night.

You walked outside extending your arms up stretching your sore muscles and gazing at the sunset. You took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, salty air and feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. As you looked out at the stunning view of the caldera and the sparkling Aegean Sea, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment. Despite the painful memories associated with this place, you knew that this beautiful view would always hold a special place in your heart. You took another deep breath of fresh air and let out a content sigh, feeling the tension from your muscles slowly dissipate. The warm sun on your face and the gentle breeze made for the perfect morning routine.

You could feel the tension in the room as you walked in, but you didn't know how to break the silence. Satoru seemed completely absorbed in his phone, not even sparing a glance in your direction. You walked straight towards the restroom, in need of a bath. You stripped yourself off your clothing. immediately going into the hot shower, feeling it go over your body you could finally relax.

As the warm water cascaded over your body, you could feel the tension and stress melting away. It was as if the shower was washing away all the worries and troubles of the day. The soothing sound of the water and the comforting warmth enveloped you, providing a sense of calm and peace. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, feeling grateful for this moment of relaxation amidst the chaos of the day.

Suddenly, the sound of the bathroom door opening caught your attention. You turned to see your husband walking in and casually brushing his teeth, not even noticing you in the shower. As you watched him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness and disconnect. Despite being in the same space, it felt like you were in different worlds.

“Listen, we’re going to go eat dinner then we can go see what we can do alright?” You hummed in return not paying attention to a single world he said. You knew that his words were empty and insincere. He had a habit of saying things to placate you, but his actions always spoke louder.

You just wanted to go home, to find a new hobby to preoccupy yourself with. You got yourself ready, elegant enough for a so called “dinner” he was taking you too.

He emerged from outside grabbing his wallet and keys he closed the door before heading out by the parking area. “Its kind off like a cruise but its only for a few hours so stay with me at all times, got it?” You nodded back entering the car with your husband.

As you drove to the harbor, your husband explained that the boat you were about to board was a yacht rented out for private events. You were excited for the mini cruise and couldn't wait to see what the night had in store. As you boarded the yacht, the sun started to set and the view was breathtaking. You thanked your husband for the surprise and promised to stay by his side throughout the night.

The sun was setting, casting a beautiful orange glow over the ocean and the yacht. As you stood next to Satoru, you could feel the warmth of his arm against yours. You both tried chatting with the other couples on the yacht, enjoying each other's company and the stunning view. The drinks were delicious and you could feel yourself relaxing more and more, grateful for this chance to spend time with Satoru. Maybe this trip would be the turning point in your relationship.

You felt the vibration through Satorus pants, indicating that someone was trying to reach him. With a brief apology, he excused himself and made his way to the other side of the yacht to take the call in privacy. From your spot on the deck, you watched as he paced back and forth, his expression growing more serious by the second. You couldn't help but wonder who could be calling him in the middle of your vacation again.

Feeling dejected and alone after being stood up by Satoru, you decided to drown your sorrows and headed to a nearby bar. While nursing your drink, you struck up a conversation with a group of people who, to your surprise, were also on their honeymoon.

Particularly, you had met this rather old couple, they were in their 40s and said that this was their third time back in the mini cruise. They were sitting at the deck, enjoying the ocean view and sipping on some cocktails. "We just love the atmosphere and the relaxation that comes with being on this cruise," the woman said, smiling at her partner. "It's like a mini vacation from our busy lives," the man added, nodding in agreement.

"You're absolutely gorgeous!" exclaimed the woman as she took a sip of her cocktail, once again admiring the stunning symmetry of your facial features. She couldn't help but notice the way your eyes sparkled in the dim lighting of the bar, or the way your smile lit up the room. It was as if you were the perfect combination of beauty and charm, making it impossible for her to take her eyes off of you.

"Thank you so much, you look rather gorgeous yourself," you replied, smiling at her compliments.

"Now tell me, why are you here all by yourself?" The woman asked, tilting her head with curiosity.

"Well," you begin, trying to come up with a plausible excuse, "I just needed some time alone to clear my head. It's been a stressful few weeks and I wanted to take a break from everything." You flash a fake smile, hoping she wouldn't catch on to your lie about your husband. You knew he was here, but he was too busy talking to his mistress on the phone to notice your absence.

As you stood nervously in front of her, she playfully nudged you and said, "Well, let's hope some young, handsome man here can swoon you and steal your heart." You couldn't help but laugh at her teasing words, and her smile only grew wider. She gestured for you to come and talk more, and you found yourself feeling more at ease in her presence.

You tried to look for satoru, to no avail was no where to be found. You sighed in disappointment following the middle aged couple back outside. “You know i used to be just like you,” she said.

You tilted your head confused, “Just like me?”

“I would often take spontaneous trips to new places, whether it was a nearby hiking trail or a faraway city. Being in a new environment helped me to relax and forget about my stressors for a while. The excitement of exploring a new place and the freedom of being away from my usual routine brought me a sense of peace and clarity. And even though it may have seemed impulsive to others, I never regretted taking these adventures to clear my mind.”

"That's also how I met my now husband," she continued, "and I can tell you from experience that it's important to always be certain if the man you are marrying is the right person for you." She went on to give you further tips and advice on marriage, sharing her own personal stories and lessons learned.

You didn't know why she was so comforting, maybe it was the way she kind of reminded you of your mother in some way or maybe because you needed someone as wise as her to speak with you. You were grateful for the empathy she showed towards you and the insightful advice she gave. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders after talking to her.

"You're a beautiful young woman," she said, smiling at you before taking off her sunglasses. "Never settle for less because there's always someone who would do anything for you." Her words resonated with you.

Almost the entire night you spent it with the couple, talking about your future and what college you went to. The whole night was filled with laughter and you had realized mid way through it that Satoru still hadn’t came back.

You had found out the womens name was Akari Nitta, she was probably one of the nicest people you had ever met. As the night went on, you couldn't help but feel grateful for meeting Akari Nitta. Her kindness and warmth made you feel at ease, and the drinks only added to the pleasant experience. You found yourself opening up to her, sharing stories and laughing together. The alcohol slowly took over your body, making you feel lightheaded and carefree.

Despite just knowing the couple for a few hours, you felt an instant connection with them. It was as if they could see right through you, making it impossible to hide anything. Before you knew it, you were pouring your heart out to them, telling them everything that had been happening between you and your husband. Akari's anger was palpable, and you knew she would do anything to protect you from Satoru's mistreatment. "Oh sweetheart, don't cry," she said, wiping away your tears as they fell down your cheeks.

Although you despised alcohol and the hold it had over you, you found it to be a temporary escape from the harsh reality of your life. It was a fleeting moment of calm amidst the chaos and pain that plagued you daily. It was a temporary numbing of the emotions and memories that haunted you, making it easier to endure the present. But deep down, you knew that alcohol was only a band-aid for your problems, and it would never truly solve them.

To make matters worse your husband happened to appear by you after the many hours he was gone he was surprised to see you crying. “Y/N, whats wrong?” You could tell he was genuinely concerned as to why he came back to his wife crying.

Jiyuu had been drunk calling Satoru, telling him how she missed his touch and how she wouldn’t wait for him to divorce you. The whole time without you knowing he was calling her and couldn’t even be with you on your last day of your honeymoon.

"You... You're a disgrace," she said with venom in her voice as she spat at Satoru, who looked back at her with a bewildered expression.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" His eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. You stood there, confused and unsure of what was happening.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she continued, her voice shaking with anger. "How could you treat such a wonderful and sweet girl like absolute shit? And then insult her like if it was her fault?” Her words pierced through the air, leaving him speechless and ashamed. People stopping by see what was going on.

His eyes widened, “Listen old hag, Shes my wife and stay out of our love life.” He narrowed his eyes as his anger flared, "I don't need your meddling in my relationship! She's my wife and I'll handle our problems on my own." He clenched his jaw and shot a fierce glare at the old woman, challenging her to say anything else.

Her voice trembled with emotion as she continued, "She deserves to be treated with love and respect, not like a worthless object." Her words were filled with anger and disappointment towards the man standing in front of her. "You are nothing but a coward, incapable of taking responsibility for your actions." She turned and walked away, leaving the man to contemplate his behavior towards the girl. “wonder how disappointed your mother would be.” she spat back Shaking her head.

The yacht abruptly stopped, causing you to stumble into Satoru's arms. "Toru, let's go home, please," you slurred, clearly intoxicated. Satoru could tell that you were completely wasted and in no condition to continue partying on the yacht.

The words the woman had said hit him hard, he carried you to the car and placed you on the passenger seat. You had fallen asleep once he carried you. As he drove, he couldn't help but replay her words in his mind. He sighed not wanting to deal with anything else. His world already felt like it was crashing and this? Just made it worse. He wondered how he was going to handle this situation and if he could even fix it. The weight of it all suddenly felt too heavy to bear.

The car ride was quiet, save for the occasional snore from you as you slept soundly in the passenger seat. He couldn't help but feel conflicted about his feelings for you. On one hand, he wanted to stay true to his commitment to jiyuu, but on the other hand, you brought a sense of peace and comfort that he couldn't find elsewhere. He knew he had to be careful, not wanting to lead you on or hurt jiyuu in any way. But deep down, he couldn't deny the guilt he felt for you.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing Jiyuu again. It was like a constant ache in his chest, a reminder of the love he once had and lost. He couldn't understand why he resented you so much, why he treated you so badly when you didn't even want the marriage either. He was torn between his loyalty to Jiyuu and his duty to make the marriage work. But deep down, he knew that he could never truly love anyone else the way he loved Jiyuu.

However, he was determined to make his dream a reality, even if it meant sacrificing his marriage and causing heartbreak. In the end, he was able to be with the person he truly loved, but at what cost?

He parked the car before getting out and carrying you once again, he could obviously tell you had one to many drinks as you couldnt even wake up from it. Finally he made it to the house Gently placing you on the bed, he changed you out of your clothes and put you in something rather warming. All he could do was just stare, stare at your flushed cheeks and your glowy skin. He could tell you had been crying because your lips were slightly more plump and your eyes were a but puffy.

Feeling a pang of guilt, he couldn't help but wonder what could have caused you to drink so much. He made a mental note to check on you in the morning and make sure you were okay. As he turned to leave, he couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness over you, even though he barely knew you. He hoped that you would be okay and that he could help you in any way possible. With a final glance, he quietly left the room, hoping that you would wake up feeling better in the morning.

He didn’t mind picking up your stuff and putting it in your suitcase, remembering that you had to wake up early tomorrow he ordered room service and asked them to bring some Advil for the headache you were sure going to have tomorrow.

He couldn't quite put his finger on the reason for his sudden change in behavior towards you. It could have been the influence of the stranger's words, or perhaps it was the weight of his guilt that finally caught up to him. Whatever the reason may be, it was clear that he was making an effort to be kind to you in this moment.

As he lay in bed, he kicked off his shoes and reached into his pocket to grab his phone. He scrolled through social media, occasionally glancing over at you lying next to him. Suddenly, his phone vibrated, and he quickly sat up, intrigued by the notification. He leaned over, seeing your sleeping figure he sighed in relief. He opened the message, seeing it was Jiyuu trying to text him at 2:04 in the morning.

+1 *** *** ****; love you Toru, don’t forget that.

He bit his lip contemplating if he should reply back, 'Toru...' he remembered the nickname gracefully slipping out of your mouth, and for some reason, it made him smile. He couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and fondness towards you.

Taglist; @allofffmypeaches @shycreatorsandwich @ryumurin @cloudsinthecosmos @4-everm-0-re @kurookinnie @bluebreadenthusiast @diannana @haurno @fouyumixuri @numblytemporary @spin-garden @oyaoya-bungeegum @we-loveebony @katteddie86 @mine-lu @rosso-seta

#arranged marriage #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #mean gojo #modern au jjk #cheating gojo #sukuna #shoko ieiri #geto suguru #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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golden-cherry · 2 months

Text

deal - cl16 (25/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Having lunch with friends always leads to sharing information. And girl, those friends don't hold back.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet, mentions of Carlos and his girlfriend (yes, I consider this a trigger)

Word Count: 3.3k

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A/N: I just reached 2.6k followers and wow!! thank you so much!!! I love you! and this one is for you!!! feedback is appreciated.

Although it's only a few days until Christmas, the sun is shining so brightly that it's pleasantly warm as you and Kika leave the furniture store. As planned - but still with an uneasy feeling - you have left the almost overflowing shopping cart in front of the checkouts and while Charles pays for your "early Christmas present", you and your friend walk to the restaurant.

"I hope all this stuff fits in the car." Kika curls her mouth into a grin. "The mirror I wrote on the note - you know, the one they have to get from storage - is pretty big."

"I'd like to have your guts," you answer her. "Just picking out a huge mirror without knowing exactly whether it will fit anywhere in our apartment."

Kika grins and points to her brown eyes. "Eye measurement, baby. Those marbles are that big for a reason."

You have to stifle a laugh. "If you say so."

While the Portuguese woman plans where in your room she will place which decoration, your thoughts drift off.

It bothers you a little that Charles wants to spend so much money on you. And for no good reason. "I want you to feel comfortable" was his explanation, which is of course very courteous and loving of him. But you could have bought the things with your own money. At least a small part of it.

Would he expect a similarly expensive gift for Christmas now? If so, what could you get him? What do you give someone who already has everything?

"Are you mad at me?" Kika interrupts your flow of thoughts and grabs your elbow.

Confused, you turn to her. "What?"

"I - I don't know." When she stops, you're forced to stop too. "I didn't tell you that Charles is a famous Formula 1 driver. You - you confided in me about Raphael and I kept you in the dark about your roommate."

You exhale. "Kika..."

"I wasn't a good friend and I'm sorry about that. Charles had asked us all not to tell because he wanted to protect you and enjoy the time with you when he was just Charles to you. Even if it wasn't fair to you. I can understand if you're angry with me and-"

"I'm not angry with you," you interrupt her and smile at her. "You're Charles' friend first and foremost and I can't blame him or you for keeping his secret. It doesn't affect our friendship in the slightest."

"Promise?" Her tone sounds a little more pleased than it did a few moments ago.

You nod. "I promise."

She hooks back into you. "Thank goodness for that. I felt super bad because I couldn't tell you. But it wasn't my secret and it wasn't my place to tell you. And I'm really relieved that you see it the same way." She rests her head on your shoulder as you continue walking.

"So you're a model, huh?" you ask her.

She nods. "Yes. Well, I put a lot of effort into it and it's very tiring at times." Kika shrugs her shoulders. "But because of that - and Pierre, of course - I get to travel a lot and see great places. And I really appreciate that." She looks at you. "Now that you're unemployed -" You give her a dirty look. "Maybe you'd like to take my pictures sometime. And then I can post it on my Instagram and maybe other models will want to book you."

"You haven't seen any of my pictures yet," you reply with a laugh as she grabs your hand and jumps up and down. "Of course we can. We can try it out if you like."

Your friend looks around briefly before letting go of you and moving away from you. "How about now? I know you don't have your camera with you, but you can use my phone. The photos won't be as focused as with a real camera, but it should be enough to get you started."

She hands you her cell phone before standing opposite you against the wall of the house. You watch her uncertainly as she fixes her hair. "Are you sure about this? What if the boys are already waiting for us?"

"Let them." She pulls her black jeans up a little so that they sit loosely on her hips. "It won't take long. And I trust you. So here we go."

While Kika turns, repositions herself and smiles at the camera, you take as many pictures as you can. In between, you adjust her purple cardigan so that it sits in the middle of her narrow shoulders, tell her how her feet should be positioned to emphasize the curves of her body and even tousle her hair once so that a few strands fall loosely into her forehead.

When you look at the pictures after ten minutes and favor three of them, she looks curiously over your shoulder. "They look great. Really outfit of the day vibe." You hand the phone back to her. "I like this one. And this one. You've captured my butt well," she grins and puts the phone in her black handbag before hooking it back up to you. "And now let's go. I'm really hungry and I don't want to keep your tiramisu from you."

Oh well.

Charles' words - "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it" - haunt your mind and the images that appear in your head don't make the situation any easier.

For example, Charles kneeling between your legs and his gaze wandering hungrily over your body. How his hands rest on your thighs to open them a little wider so that he can lie comfortably on his stomach between them. How he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties to slowly pull them off your legs. And the way his mouth moves up from the soft skin of your thighs to where you want it to be. Need it to be. The way he opens his mouth and licks his tongue over his lips before closing the distance between you and -

"Watch out. You start drooling." When you give Kika a confused look, she pokes you in the side. "I didn't know you could daydream about tiramisu."

"I wasn't even thinking about tiramisu," you defend yourself, but Kika doesn't believe a word you say.

"Of course not." You could even hear her grin if you weren't looking at her. She lifts her hand and puts it to your cheek, playfully wiping the non-existent spit from the corner of your mouth. "I hate to repeat myself, but you're really not very good at lying."

You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at your sneakers. "Is it that obvious?"

"That you're totally into tiramisu? Hardly," she replies wryly, but puts her arm around your shoulder. "Let's be honest. A trained eye like mine can spot something like that, but if you're worried about the boys seeing it - you really don't need to worry. They wouldn't even recognize a dessert if you put it right in front of them."

"I just don't know what to do," you confess to her.

Kika purses her lips. "Would you be ready for tiramisu after everything that's happened?"

A question you don't know the answer to. After Raphael's betrayal, you had actually sworn off men for a long time for fear that something similar would happen to you again. You tried to build a wall around your heart, but Charles has broken it down piece by piece and now there is only him. He has spread inside you, in your head and in your heart, and you are hungry for him - a feeling that you have never felt for Raphael before. A feeling that takes you by surprise and overruns you like an avalanche and you are helplessly at its mercy.

"It's not the end of the world if you're ready for it," Kika assures you and her smile is genuine. "And when you're ready to give the tiramisu its real name, I'll be here if you want to talk about it."

You hug your friend tightly, causing her to let out a loud gasp. "Thank you, Kika. Really."

"You don't need to thank me. After all, I'm going to make full use of the mirror in your room soon and use you for your photography skills."

A few minutes later, you arrive at the small restaurant. As you enter through the glass door, you can already see the two men sitting at a table at the back. And Kika was right - apart from the four of you, the restaurant is deserted.

"Where have you been?" asks Pierre as you join them. While Kika sits down opposite her boyfriend, you take the empty seat next to her. "We've been waiting for ages."

"We had to stop for a moment because I wanted to take photos," Kika explains and shows them both one of the pictures you took of her.

Pierre grimaces in amazement. "Very good photos. I hope you tag her in them too."

Playfully indignant, she puts her hand to her cleavage. "Of course! What makes you think I wouldn't do that? It might even land her more photo shoots with other models." She leans in your direction. "But as long as I remain your favorite model, everything's fine."

"You are and always will be my favorite model, Kika," you reply and briefly lean your cheek against the top of her head before she sits up straight again.

While Kika and Pierre argue lovingly, you feel Charles pressing one of his legs against yours under the table. When you look at him, he smiles. "Everything okay?" he asks silently, tilting his head.

You nod. "Everything's perfect." You press your leg against his as well.

The risotto you ordered doesn't taste too bad, even if it is a little more fancy than your typical meals. The boys talk about their sport and you try to understand everything, but when the conversation eventually turns to engines, you stop listening.

You watch Charles as he talks energetically and passionately to his friend about his job, while the French mainly listens. He tries to explain things with his hands, waving them wildly in front of his face, and if you didn't know him, you'd think he was a bit out of his mind. But there is something twinkling in his eyes, a spark that shines brighter and brighter the longer he talks about Formula 1.

It makes him so attractive that you have to swallow.

"How are Carlos and his girlfriend doing?" Kika interjects into the conversation. "I saw on Instagram the other day that they went on a trip together."

You look from Kika to Charles. "Who is Carlos?"

"My teammate at Ferrari. The other driver," he explains briefly with a smile before turning to Kika. "I've seen that too. Santorini or something, wasn't it? It was definitely nice, but let's see how long it lasts."

You have to ask again. " How long will it last? That doesn't sound like you have much faith in the relationship."

Kika, who has taken a sip of her water, puts her glass back on the table. "Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with faith," she explains and takes her cell phone out of her bag. She taps on it a little until she hands it to you.

You see an Instagram page of a Becca, also a model, it seems. 27 years old, model at the Bijou Management agency. Her last post is actually from Santorini and alongside all the pictures of her lolling by the pool is one of her with a man. Carlossainz55 is tagged in the picture.

"When you're famous, it's harder to have a relationship," Pierre continues. "Not everyone is so lucky and falls in love with someone who is a good match for them. Sometimes rumors surface about people that aren't true, but still damage reputations. And to counteract this, some people go into relationships that put them in a good light."

You look around in confusion. "So it's a marketing strategy? So that people can sell themselves better?"

Charles nods. "These PR relationships are very conspicuous and usually easy to see through, but even then they distract from the actual rumor."

"And Carlos and Becca are in one of those PR relationships?" Your friends nod. "And what's the rumor that needs to be put to rest?"

Charles bites the inside of his cheek. "Carlos was with a young, super-nice woman for years. When they broke up, there was a rumor that he had a secret family and even a son. That this was the reason for the break-up. And that triggered a few conversations at Ferrari." He shrugs his shoulders. "And then they pulled Becca in for him."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Pulled her in? How do you find someone to willingly agree to a fake relationship like that?"

Kika catches your attention. "Some racing teams have a cooperation with certain modeling agencies for such cases. Which of course makes the whole thing even more conspicuous. But just think how much publicity the girlfriends get from it. It definitely doesn't hurt the modeling job."

"But you also have to understand that millions of euros are attached to a driver's reputation," Pierre explains. "Fans buy tickets to see their favorite driver. They buy merchandise like shirts, caps or whatever to show their loyalty. And loyalty is not exactly low. Ask Charles. One priest has his whole Instagram page dedicated to him."

As you look at your roommate, he can only nod. "That's true. Fans put their favorites on pedestals, praise them to the skies and would defend them to the bitter end. But a rumor that is so serious and has consequences like falling sales figures - anything is better than fans who refuse to support their favorites."

"And why do you think it won't be good for much longer?" Charles looks nervously around the room as if he doesn't know what to say, and his friends also avoid your gaze and your question. "Guys, I don't know these people. So, whatever you tell me - I can't do anything with the information anyway. Is there another woman?"

"It's not exactly another woman," Kika mumbles into her glass and all heads turn in her direction. "What is it? Like she's going to run to the nearest news agency and tell them that the Spanish Ferrari driver isn't exclusively into women."

You raise your hands placatingly. "In case it's not clear - of course I'll keep everything that's said around the table to myself. I'm not crazy and risking our friendship."

"I didn't expect anything else," Charles replies with a smile that could melt glaciers. "I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends anymore either."

As you look at him and mindlessly lick your lips, you feel Kika's elbow gently on your arm.

"What do you think? Do you fancy some tiramisu?"

Your gaze lingers on Charles and when he presses his leg a little harder against yours, your breath hitches. "I'm craving it."

And indeed. The tiramisu isn't as good as the one at the restaurant where you met Kika and Pierre, but it comes close. You try to look away from Charles, but every time you look at him, his eyes are already on you. Something that makes you even more nervous than it should.

When you get into the car a short time later, unnoticed, you glance briefly over the seats back into the trunk. "Where's the new bed?"

Charles straps himself in and has the seat belt fastened against his torso. "They'll deliver it between Christmas and New Year and set it up straight away. Then I won't have all the work and Pierre won't have to lug it around with me."

"For which I am very grateful," replies the Frenchman, steering the car through the streets of Monaco. "I don't even know how we're going to transport this mirror without breaking it. It was already barely possible to get it into the car."

"That sounds like a you-problem," grins Kika, looking at her boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. "You're the strong men. You'll find a solution while we get all the little things into the apartment. Right?"

The question is directed at you, but apart from a nod, she can't expect anything else in response. Charles's fingers are once again wrapped around your calf, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin and you can't think of anything else but the feeling of warmth that spreads through you from this small touch.

It takes a good hour for both the mirror and the rest to get to the upstairs in your apartment. After Pierre involuntarily teaches you several swear words in French and Kika decorates your entire windowsill with fake plants, they quickly make a run for it, worried that you're both going to take even more advantage of them than you already have.

"We've had a good day so far," you call out to Charles from the kitchen as you pour you both a glass of water each. You don't know where he is, but he will probably have heard you anyway.

"Definitely," comes his voice from the living room. As you follow it, you see Charles sitting on the large couch, his head back and his eyes closed. Only now do you notice how thick his neck is. Is it from all the training for Formula 1?

"Here." You hold his glass of water out to him and he opens his eyes to accept it. As you sit down, he takes a sip. You watch his Adam's apple bounce as he swallows.

"Thank you," he replies quietly and rests his arm on the back of the couch. A sign for you to lean against him, which you definitely don't refuse.

As you snuggle into his side and breathe in his unmistakable scent, you feel tiredness overtake you. "But it was exhausting."

""Mh-mhh."

"Thanks again. For my early Christmas present. Even though it wasn't necessary," you joke, but as rigid as Charles is sitting next to you, he doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. And as you follow his stare, the roses on the white piano come into your field of vision. The reason why you suggested the trip to the furniture store. And suddenly your tiredness is blown away.

"Do you happen to know anyone who has something like a fire bowl or something?" you ask your flatmate.

This question seems to break him out of his spell. His gaze wanders from the roses to you and he raises an eyebrow in confusion. "A fire bowl?" You nod. "Joris has a rooftop terrace and we've had bonfires there before in the summer." He licks his teeth once. "What do you need a fire bowl for? You're not thinking about sitting around a fire with sticks and marshmallows in winter, are you?"

"Not exactly," you reply and get up from the couch. As you look down at him, you hold out your hand. "Come on, mon joli. I have an idea."

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nisuna · 2 months

Text

I got super inspired last night, so here's a short drabble about the smut adventures of cult leader!geto x non-sorcerer!f!reader let's goo

I have more planned along the lines of: First time sleeping with him; Public sex in front of his followers; Making you call him by his First Name during sex; Saying I love you during sex; things I have mentioned in my headcannon post (I might do a poll for the next chapter 🙈)

Feel free to check out the headcannons for this AU for more context!

TW: heavy nipple play; nipple sucking, biting, pinching; manipulative geto, short non-con, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual orgasm, FIRST KISS, trust issues, crying, he calls you "pet", power imbalance; cult leader!Geto x non-sorcerer!f!reader

<3masterlist<3

-----------1.2k words; strictly 18+ MDNI--------------

"Geto-samaaa... I need a break today. Please, no more.", you huffed in his arms. Your hips and back were starting to hurt from the countless nights that you've been spending with him.

"What do you mean, pet? Have I overworked you? Oh poor you. But there has to be something I can do to satisfy myself. Tell me, what activity do you enjoy that doesn't involve my cock?"

You felt stumped, but something did come to mind. "Che..."

"Hm? What was that, pet? You need to speak up.", he demanded, looking at you expectedly.

"Chest.", your timid voice broke the silence. "I like it when you play with my chest Geto-sama."

After hearing the words leave your mouth, a toothy grin appeared on his face.

"Good job. Look at you speaking your mind. Such a good pet. Well then, get ready.", he cooed, loosening the knot on your robe. "Tonight, I'm going to town on your chest. Nothing more, nothing less. I promise."

He didn't lie when he said he would go to town, because that's exactly what's been happening for the last half hour. You were on all fours above him while his hungry mouth was sucking in your right nipple. Much to your dismay, however, he was paying attention to the right one ONLY. And at this point, you were getting impatient.

"Mmh whyy~", you mewled.

That caught his attention as he unlatched his mouth from your sensitive nub.

"What is it, pet? You don't like it? That can't be, you were the one who suggested this in the first place. I can practically feel you dripping all over me."

"It's not that...", you mumbled, turning your head, because you didn't have the guts to face him right now.

"What is it then? You have to speak your mind. How elese am I supposed to know if I'm doing something you don't like, hm?"

You sucked in a deep brath and squeaked. "The.. the other one..."

"Hm? Come again?", he cocked an eyebrow, putting his fingers on your chin, finally making you look at him.

"The other one...why do you only play with the right one. What about the left?", you mumbled trailing off.

His mind went ding as he smiled up at you. "Oooh your other one wants attention as well, hm? Why didn't you say so? I'm more than happy to oblige." He hummed caressing your cheek with his large palm.

"However, that service comes at a price."

"What do you-?"

"You have to put in a quarter to play."

"A what? I don't think im following Geto-sama..."

"Oh my dumb little pet. I'm talking about this, of course.", he smiled while sliding his exposed cock through your wet folds.

"Mh- no you said we wouldn't do that today!", you tried your best not to succumb to temptation.

"Just the tip, pet. I promise. Do that for me and I'll suck on your tits all night long.", the way his deep and smooth voice rolled off his tongue like honey made you weak.

How could you say no to such an offer. He wouldn't lie to you right? Geto-sama was a man of his word, you can trust him.

So you reluctantly nodded your head yes and began lifting your hips. He was quick to grab you by your hips and push into you. As promised, he didn't go deep and stopped immediately. You felt relief wash over your body as you tried your best to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

You let out a few huffs before finally discarding your robe, saying. "Mhh, I did my part of the deal. Now's your turn...AH-", as you were about to press your left tit against his mouth, he bottomed out, making you whine his name.

"Geto samaaa noo, you promised we wouldn't.. you.. you lied to me.", you sobbed, digging your nails into his exposed chest. The tears collecting in your eyes almost made him pity you. Almost.

"I'll continue pampering you, don't worry, this is just a quick detour."

You had no energy to defend yourself in his tight grasp, so you let him bully his fat cock into your tight little hole without protest.

After a few thrusts, he sat up, keeping you on his lap and finally fulfilled his part of the deal. His tongue darted out to your neglected left nipple while he pinched your right one between his long fingers. His hips kept rocking up into you while his hungry eyes kept looking up at you all throughout his ministrations.

Your tears of disappointment soon turned into tears of pleasure as you started losing yourself in his grasp. It was when he started to stimulate your puffy clit as well that your mind went blank. The expressions you were making were so nasty, that they soon pushed him over the edge as well.

It was the first time both of you came at the same time and it was understandable that you lost your mind at the intense feeling. It was when he kept fucking you through your high that you lost your sense of self and didn't notice that you grabbed onto his face and pushed your lips against his. Your mouth fell open as a needy moan left your mouth at the feeling of getting filled to the brim. You were so out of it that you didn't notice his eyes shoot open and hands halt all movement.

This was the first time you two ever kissed. Cult leader geto always saw sex as an act of service and obedience. Never once has he thought about kissing someone like you. He talked you through it and prohibited you from ever trying, or else...

Your eyes shot open as well at the lack of reaction and you almost had a heart attack at the realisation of what you have just done.

You were beyond terrified, immediately pulling away and shivering at the sight of his blank expression and his sharp eyes burning holes into you.

You began trembling in his tight grasp as your next words came tumbling out. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Geto-sama, please forgive me-", you sobbed.

As you were about to pull your hands away from his face, he stopped you. You were petrified, expecting the worst. But to your surprise you didn't feel a punishment come your way. Instead, you felt him press his lips against yours and holding your hand in place on his cheek. The kiss was hungry, his tongue prying your mouth open and all you could do was moan and just take it. When he finally pulled away, you didn't dare speak, blinking at him with fear evident in your eyes. Your confusion only grew when you heard him let out a chuckle.

"You surprised me for sure, pet. But let's continue, I quite liked it.", he mumbled.

You nodded, letting out the breath you were holding as you closed your eyes and puckered your lips. While you were making out, you felt him harden inside of you again. This was going to be a long night, after all.

From then on out each time he crashed his lips against yours and made you cream on his cock over and over he thought "fuck it" abandoning his principles. All because of you.

----

I'd love to hear your thoughts!

#geto smut #geto x reader #suguru smut #suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk drabbles #takes with nini♡#jjk fanfic #nini's takes♡#jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader

195 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 6 months

Text

Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Descriptions of an animal kill. Mentions and descriptions of suicide/self harm. Tiny mention of smut. You and Joel open up further, with a heavy chat.

☝🏻Some of the tags aren't working, so please ensure you're following me and turn on notifs so you don't miss an update on this story.

Enjoy! 🖤

Previous Chapter

Joel switches on the walkie-talkie and you both wait in suspended silence.

He remains sitting forward; his left elbow on his knee and the other on the arm of the wicker chair. His fingers tap and fidget restlessly, you notice.

You sit back fully in your chair and keep your eye on the green light. Waiting for it to pulse. Waiting for it to crackle into life and deliver bad news.

You can’t help it, years of ingrained pessimism have bludgeoned your optimism down to a flat nub.

It feels like an age before the time passes through midday and Joel switches off the walkie-talkie just after seventeen-past the hour.

“No news is good news.” He reminds you, glancing at your anxious face pulled tight, and you smile faintly, grateful for the ebb of reassurance, even though it barely makes an indent.

Your mind drifts to Kelper and Max in the main group, heading towards the horde with Tommy. To Sal, who’s in the second group bringing up the rear with the explosives. And to Guthrie locked down back in the commune, praying for you all incessantly no doubt. You wonder how he can still have faith, after everything.

You hope they’re hitting their marks, that they're okay and this God forsaken plan of Kelper’s goes off without a hitch.

You rub at the back of your neck and yawn and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Why don’t ya take a beat?” Joel nods over to the cot and the thought is too tempting; you’re tired and feel your eyelids become heavy and swampy.

“Mm,” you agree.

You stand and kick off your boots after unlacing them. The heat in the shack from the sun only makes you more sleepy, and you flake on the cot foregoing any blankets.

You roll onto your front, your head facing the wooden wall. Up this close you can make out the fuzzy fibres in the dark, splintered wood, and your finger runs over the rough surface, back and forth a few times.

“Did you miss me, Joel?” You put out there, pausing with the dull pang in your gut waiting to drop. “When I left, I mean.”

The question had been gnawing away at everything inside you. Now that you’d asked it, you weren’t sure if you wanted an answer.

You know it was a cowardly move; leaving whilst he was at work. Shoving your possessions into bags quickly and removing all trace of you from his life.

You keep your eyes closed, it's better if you can’t see his expression. Especially when his face is knotted up again, like you assume it will be.

You’re pretty sure it's a question that's winded him and it makes guilt sprout like moss somewhere when he doesn’t respond.

Why do you keep torturing him with this, and yourself?

“Sometimes,” he whispers, his voice travelling over towards you.

You hold your breath, your body tensing.

“Sometimes it felt like I never stopped.” You hear the wicker in the chair creak as he moves inside it. “Even if you drove me fuckin’ nuts.” Joel concludes.

You smile, opening your eyes. “I did, didn’t I?” You reply, your shoulders jostling a little as you chuckle.

“I liked it. Kept me on m’toes.” Joel husks from the other side of the room.

“I know.” You confirm, your smile dipping. "Do you..." You trail off and steady your breaths as they find an increasing pace. "Do you ever wish you could just go back, do it all over again?"

"Before the Outbreak?" He queries.

"Yeah. If you got a second chance, would you do it all differently?"

You hear him take in a deep, contemplative breath. "Some of it."

You hear more shuffling in the wicker chair and close your eyes again. You breathe out slowly trying to swim out of all the muddled thoughts pulling you under.

Were ya missin' me too, darlin'?

You can hear him as though he's right beside you. Feel the warmth of his breath in your ear, his lips nipping gently on your earlobe as his scruff tickles the skin on your neck. Feel his swamping hand that’s burning on your thigh as he squeezes and then runs it up your hip, towards your stomach.

Thick, rough fingers trailing along your navel gently, leaving goose bumps and making your nipples peak as he strokes with a featherlight touch around them, under your top, in giddy, teasing circles.

You moan out, biting your lip. Pushing back into him to be met with the swell of his hardness pressing into your ass, and his grunts braiding through your hair as he slowly grinds into you.

“Joel…” You hum, burning up. You turn over in the cot to find his lips, searching for the heat of them.

But you’re met with nothing.

You sit upright, dumbfounded and perplexed as you rub sharp, crusted sleep from your eyes.

You glance over to the wicker chair to see Joel slumped in it. His arms crossed over his chest and his head lolled to one side. His eyes are closed and he snuffles gently. He’s asleep.

Licking around the inside of your cotton mouth, you glance at the clocks that all read past four in the afternoon. The light still floods the shack and it feels stifling.

You sit forward, contemplating whether to wake him or not. Joel looks content, if not for an aching neck to suffer from later.

You smile, observing him and the way his mouth is downturned and pursed under the greying fuzz smattered above it. It suits him, you think. Ageing.

He appears more beautiful now than you remember, and you soon start to feel like you're burring up from the inside the longer you stare at him.

You stand, stretching out, reaching for a bottle of warm water, when you hear it.

You stop, the sound of it rendering you frozen on the spot and your heart racing.

It’s the sound of your own name passing from Joel’s lips in a soft, sleepy moan.

It comes and goes.

Bleeding into your subconscious like a dream, or more of a hellish nightmare lodged between the sinew and muscle.

This time it's the blood from the buck that stirs that sleeping giant.

One moment you're focused on the task of deboning the flesh from a blunt hunting knife that you'd recovered from one of Joel's knapsacks. The next, you're frozen, hunched over the infant carcass of stained, wet fur and reliving through it all over again.

You see it all, hear it in surround sound. Even smell it; the ripeness of it, the rot. Drawn to it like a fruit fly to fetid garbage.

You try to rationalise it; convince yourself that it's just some malignant trauma hovering over you, not done with roughing you up yet and that it’ll settle soon. But it’s hot, searing mercury in your veins, heavy mustard gas in your lungs that chokes you.

Nothing's affected you like this before, like this loss has. Well, that's not strictly true. Losing Joel is right up there. The scars of that run deep, deeper than the one on your wrist.

You glance at it as you carry on with the task at hand, physically shaking your head as though you could empty the incoming white noise out of your ears if you shake hard enough.

But it's still there.

You regard your hands soaked and slippery in the claret. It's so bright, fresh. The metallic scent of copper is tasted on the back of your throat as you breathe in and swallow it down.

You're not sure how it started, how it all went to shit in a blink of an eye. How you were complacent and allowed yourself a few moments of respite; to believe that everything could be alright.

You can see it clearly as you scrunch your eyes tight; willing yourself not to go there, but you do.

It always pulls you under.

You're walking with a basket, laundry maybe. Or is it something else? You look into the basket in your hands, but you don't see it, there’s just a void. A hole where a memory should be. What was in that damn basket?

You pass smiling faces, working hands and chatter. Laughter, such an alien sound, but full of promise and hope. These are your people, people who owe you their lives, but you're insistent they don’t. They really don’t.

The camp is thriving despite its lackadaisical appearance. Clusters of tents, makeshift tarpaulins wound around branches. Old RV’s being picked clean of pipes and bulbs.

It’s a good place to pitch up, rest for a while. Probably one of the better places Kelper has managed to settle you all. It's the longest time you've had to stand still, to soak in the peace. To let it all start to peel away in thin papery layers from your skin as you shed it.

Then you hear it.

Screaming. A single wail at first, but then more; more are mutating into a chorus of shrieks and panic that seem to be coming from all directions like sharp, precisely aimed arrows.

You drop the basket. Or maybe you throw it down, again, you can't be sure. All you know is that once you hear it, it's discarded.

You start forward towards the screaming, pulling your gun from your back waistband. Instinct fuels you to aid; it’s all you run on these days.

Then you see it.

The blood. It's on their faces as they dash past you, scrambling. On their arms and legs. You don't realise it right now, but the blood is from bites; flesh torn apart by teeth that infect.

It spreads quicker sometimes. Other times it lies in wait, hours of slow torture as the fever turns you out.

You're firing. More gunshots are heard echoing tinny around you. You take a couple out, but more rear through the camp.

Then more, then too many. Herds of them. You've never seen a cluster this big, this co-ordinated. They just keep fucking coming.

You remember being paralysed as they swarmed in like locusts, devouring everything. Taking everything from you in literal moments. You watch helplessly as faces you know are pulled under, devoured.

You try to shoot them, knowing it's too late for them; to end their suffering as a last kindness. They would want that. They would understand.

But your aim is sloppy. They're getting closer. Your gun jams. Shit. There's too fucking many.

Run.

RUN!

A hand yanks you backward, so hard that you're sure your socket has been wrenched out. You grip tightly onto Kelper who drags you away like you weigh nothing; a clumsy kite on the end of flimsy string.

Something clicks in you, brings you back as Kelper screams at the others to run. Some of them do. They scatter like marbles dropped from a little boy's pocket. No clear direction. They run straight into their deaths, with flailing arms and you can't save them.

Stop! You’re going the wrong way!

You run too. Your lungs are on fire already as you yell at people you pass and can't hear your own voice. You reach out for them. You latch onto one, Guthrie.

You toss your gun in exchange for his hand and he keeps that frantic pace with you. He trips, falls and cries out as you lose your grip on his sweaty fingers. You go back for him as he scrambles up.

A bullet passes so close by your temple and hits the infected sprinting for you both. It's thunder cracking in your ears and leaving a tinny din.

You turn to see Kelper aiming and hollering at you; he’s all teeth and spittle at the mouth. A rabid rottweiler unleashed with hackles, barking crazed and panicked.

You run. You and Guthrie together. You follow Kelper, footsteps stampeding as he dashes towards the treeline. Losing them in the camouflage, good idea.

You fucking run.

Your ankles are snapping at you to relent, every breath you suck in feels like liquid fire. You glance over your shoulder to see Max and Sal bringing up the rear. Their faces bloodied and you can hear Guthrie's exhausted moans as he keeps pace with you.

You drag him along. You make him work through the pain. He can't stop. You won't let him stop. You can’t lose another. You won’t.

Stray infected chase you. Kelper points to a clearing where it dips a few yards out. An opportunity to take those bastards on.

He glances at you and you know. You just know it has to be done.

You shunt Guthrie down the hill and he slips, rolling and yelling out. Max dives down after him. Kelper pulls Sal to him. She practically flies around the trunk as he pauses with her in his grip.

You pick a spot and get ready. You reach for your gun behind your back to realise you don't have it.

Fuck.

Seconds. You have seconds to react. Blood thuds inside your ears.

You don't remember, but you lunge.

Teeth are snapping at you as you grapple with the infected. Skin a sallow grey and fungal rot in a sickly pale orange; even its scleras are a disgusting hue.

You remember the smell. The stench of its breath as it comes for you.

You slam it backwards, reaching blinding for something, anything. Your fingers graze a rock and you pummel its head with it and keep going, long after it's dead.

Long after it no longer has a face to haunt you.

It takes Max and Kelper to pull you off as you scream ferally at it. The other infected that chased you have already met a similar fate, and the five of you are left standing there on the edge of the camp, hidden and listening to the sounds of your extended family die.

You pull them away, with Kelper; the sounds of their screams whistling in your ears.

Max wants to be a hero, wants to go back for them. And you love him so much for it, but you can’t let him. He tries to fight against you both, a small tussel, but stops when Sal speaks.

There's no-one to go back for. Her voice is cold, empty. She knows it too.

You walk for hours.

Until the sky is darker and the ringing in your ears stops, or maybe you just learn to accommodate its petulant wail. You walk until the blisters in your boots are plentiful and burst.

Until Kelper spots an old farmhouse up ahead, isolated in the vast fields and valleys.

You and Guthrie keep watch whilst the others do some recon. His arm is busted up pretty bad from the fall down the slope. You apologise to him as you tear a strip from his shirt and create a makeshift sling, and he tells you it's alright; a broken bone is nothing in the grand scheme of things. That you did good. That God was with you.

And it's at that point you crack. Fissures start erupting inside you uncontrollably.

You pace away, you don't want him to see it. Any of them.

You don't know where you’re going. You can't feel your feet anymore and you're blinded by tears that won't cease. You try to remember your mantra. Try to remember how you're still here and they're not.

Eventually you walk into something soft, warm. Arms pulling you tight. Telling you he’s got you as you sob, and your cut to shreds and exhausted feet finally give way under you.

He falls with you, settling into the ground and mourns the loss with you.

You don't know how long you and Kelper stayed out in the grass that night. All you know is that you never let go of one another. Even when you fell asleep amongst the tiny bugs.

You stand up; your back aching from being crouched for so long over the buck's carcass, and stare down at the bloodied meat you’ve salvaged from it.

And then it hits you and makes you feel unsteady on your feet. A renegade choke slithers up from the back of your throat and out into the open as your eyes mist over.

You know it with resolution, with utmost conviction.

The loss you suffered that day was insurmountable. The loss you suffered when Raiders came and took more than just scavenged possessions from your people still cuts deep.

The losses since the Outbreak have stacked up against you, that some days you don’t think you can physically take anymore.

Enduring and surviving is taking its fucking toll. The pain garnered from those losses will remain with you always. More scars.

But, as you stand here zoning out into abject realisation and determination, you know that there is a loss that trumps all of that.

And you feel wretched for even comparing them.

A single man for all that bloodshed and carnage? All those innocent lives lost? It's a heinous and selfish thought. One that rises bile to the back of your throat as you try to cough it away.

But you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that losing Joel again would be worse than anything you've endured and survived through. Worse than anything else that's possibly coming for you next.

And you can’t lose him again now that you’ve found him.

You just can’t.

After Joel’s annoyed rantings about you not waking him finally cease into incoherent mumblings, you both settle down to eat some of the venison that you’ve cooked.

Whilst he was asleep, you took the opportunity to hack the buck up outside; a messy job that left your top splattered with blood and your mind stained with rattled recall.

You washed up discreetly in the alcove, replacing it with another simple, long sleeved top from your pack, and then later laid the meat into pans cooking it tenderly.

The sounds of sizzling as the meat cooks stirs Joel at just past six in the evening.

You both sit down to eat as the approaching dusk begins to infect darker blues into the sky.

You share the remainder of the focaccia bread and you watch as Joel winces as his neck aches. He rubs at it listlessly.

“Ya should've woken me.” He pouts again, as he shovels in another mouthful of meat, chewing with a deep frown.

“You needed the sleep.”

“I should’ve been on watch,” he grunts. “Not fuckin’ sleepin’ with a bent up neck.”

You shouldn’t have been moaning my name either, is what you want to say, but you keep it to yourself. A secret that elates you as it thrills.

Your mind can't help but to wade into conjuring up images about what it was exactly that he was dreaming about. You try to contain the small smile ebbing as you chew, but it’s difficult - it pours renegade across your lips anyway.

“S’not funny.” Joel gripes. He reaches for some water still patting at his neck.

“I’m not laughing at you.” You state with a flat mouth free of curves or bends.

He eyes you carefully as he puts down the water bottle.

You clear the chipped plates when you’re both finished, and put the remaining cooked meat inside the Tupperware box. It’ll keep for a day or two.

Joel gets up and disappears outside, and you make the most of the few minutes of silence. Silence that is always somehow interrupted by wayward thoughts or unflinching desires as of late.

You think back to your dream earlier of being wrapped up on the cot with him pressed up against you, and it suddenly feels hotter inside the shack, even though the cooler air of the evening seeps inside now.

Your mind swims with his hands. His hands that were on your hips at the Hootie And The Blowfish concert he took you to as you swayed against him, mouthing the words of the songs into the air.

How his large palm would squeeze your thigh in the passenger seat fondly and you flare at the thought of him rising it higher and higher, until his fingertips would probe the edge of your panties that were always soaked for him.

The taste of his thick, salty fingers as you’d kiss and suck each one gently whilst he lost all his breath and sense of being, drowning in you.

A longing sigh settles in the back of your throat and chokes you.

Joel returns a few minutes later, zipping up his fly as he pulls the door shut behind him, and you turn away feeling as though you’ve been doused in gasoline and set alight.

He slouches down back in the chair and sighs listlessly. His hand is rubbing again at the back of his neck as he peers out the small window.

He tries to crack it out, bending his head from side to side and growls under his breath when it doesn’t release.

“Want me to massage it for you?” You offer after he grunts in frustration again.

His brown eyes dart to you as though you just shot him in the gut.

Your own mouth is appalled at the suggestion, and the origin of it, but the mutiny in your chest spurs you on.

“Might stop you complaining?" You suggest, standing and not giving him much of a choice. Or yourself, for that matter. Driven on drunk autopilot as you're there in a blink of an eye.

He caves, nodding hesitantly and scooches his chair forward a little.

"Ya sure?" Joel questions, a small voice that cracks like glass, flows out of him. His eyes are furtive, widening and he looks acutely terrified. His posture is suddenly more rigid, if such a thing were possible.

You nod like it's nothing, but it’s everything. A small reassuring smile greets him behind a skull of chattering teeth.

You step behind him, flooded with gumption, despite the fact your body is yelling at you that this is probably a disaster waiting to happen.

You feel him hitch a breath as soon as your skin makes contact with him. Yours does too. It stops time, space and gravity no longer exist.

Coherent thought dissipates and you're left with a head full of iridescent bubbles, floating with them. The sweat beads at your neck, you feel your spine pull tight. You clench between your legs.

His neck is hot and red from the constant pawing at it; the skin in his hairline feeling rougher and bobbly with large pores and coarser hairs, as your fingers sink slowly into it.

You press your thumbs at the base and wiggle them around in slow moving circles, applying gentle pressure.

Joel groans out immediately; a noise that is all too familiar to you, and so uniquely new. His shoulders instantly deflate.

“That’s the spot, huh?” You smile, wrangling it all out of him.

“Fuck,” you think you hear him murmur, as you knead and roll your thumbs across the top of his spine.

“Ya too good at this,” Joel says after a few minutes. You can see he has his eyes closed in the window’s reflection.

You beam, enjoying that he’s enjoying it, as you’re all fingers and thumbs, albeit with a tremor in them.

“Ya used to do this thing, you’d scratch ya nails into m’head.” Joel lets slip through a deep sigh.

“You remember that?” You ask, smirking.

“I 'member a lot,” he groans, as you push your fingers up the back of his scalp, snaking to his crown and then dragging them down again. Letting your nails rake through his salt and pepper waves and scratch against his skin.

“Yeah... like that.” Joel whines; a long, laboured husk pulling from his chest that causes devastating explosions inside of you, ten million Hiroshima’s.

You continue circling around his crown, behind his ears, to the front of his forehead, and back down his nape where your fingers knot around his unruly curls.

You let your dexterous digits run through the silk of them. You see goosepimples flood across the back of his neck and you pulse.

You could just lean forward and plant a tender kiss there. You can see yourself do it in your mind's eye; taste his skin, and you lick your lips unconsciously.

“God, I fuckin’ missed this.”

It makes you fly to hear it, fireworks sparking inside your core. The hairs stand up on your arms and your own scalp tingles. A deep ache pulls on your clit as you squeeze your thighs together again and try to stifle your own groans.

“Yeah?” You manage to swallow.

He nods slowly, pushing his head back into your fingers to get more of them. Chasing the sensations that leave prickles all over his scalp, running down his spine and into the end of his hardening cock.

“Feels good?” You prompt.

“So fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He croons with his eyes closed and jaw slack. "I could fall asleep again."

Joel Miller is literal putty in your hands. A stark contrast from a few minutes ago when the grump wouldn’t stop griping into the air. Now he’s languidly panting into it with soft breaths that move up in octaves when you find a good spot that makes him melt further.

Your hands slip down onto his broad, thick shoulders and knead with the pressure there, working him out. You’re no professional, but the amount of knots in his shoulders pains you a little.

He’s been holding on to a lot of tension for so long.

Your brain wanders off to wondering about how he releases some of it. The back of your own neck becomes saturated as you linger in that wanton territory of Joel with those hands wrapped around his large, thick cock and grunting as he comes.

You wonder if he still makes the same face...

The sting of you biting down onto your lip pulls you out of that illicit thought. You can't help it; touching him again, finally having your hands on him, brings it all back and makes your need physical and corporeal. It's been so long.

Joel sighs out again; the sound speaking to the ache between your legs, communicating with it as you feel it more intensely.

More contented hums follow from him, putting invisible smooches on your skin as they land on you and flower.

And then Joel reaches for your right hand, pulling it round to his face and goes to run his nose against it, inhaling the natural perfume of your skin.

An action driven unconsciously in that dreamy moment of his hedonism and own need. You're certain he's going to kiss you there.

But he stops.

You hitch your breath at the contact of his hand on yours, so familiar, and yet so new. His hand is so warm, a little rough on the fingertips that grip gently around your wrist.

You close your eyes as you feel his breath waft over your palm.

Then you freeze when you feel his fingers push up your sleeve and catch him staring at the scar on your wrist as it’s revealed.

It’s long, puckered and massively obvious. The skinny, zagged pink line is vertical and was once dangerously deep.

Joel twists in the chair, the sound of the wicker slicing through you. His brown eyes are back in that alcove of his frown as they ward up at you questioning, swimming in fury, and it instantly becomes too much.

You snatch back your wrist, breaking all contact with him as the dreamy spell shatters in reflective shards at your feet.

“What happened?” He asks gently, tentatively.

You can still feel it, the strange lack of any pain sensation; just the release of pressure as the blade slid up and into your wrist with ease. You’d thought it would at least sear or burn. That you’d scream out in agony as it ripped apart the fibres of your sinewy flesh.

But you didn’t. Instead you just watched, with some acquired peace; peace that you’d longed for so desperately at the time, and welcomed it, as you slowly bled out. It felt like you were high, floating almost.

Kelper had saved you, the bastard. You’d beaten against his chest, crying and cursing him for doing so, but in hindsight, you know why he did it. It was so you could save him later. Save the others.

Even save yourself in some way.

And as you breathed life back into his body, you understood that it was just a cheat’s way out of this world. Although the world was scorched and desolate, there was still love and connection to be found.

And that was fucking worth living through it all. Had to be. Because there was fuck all else.

You swallow thickly, unsure of where to begin, how to revisit that fertile ground that you've dug up and re-soiled over again and again.

“The same thing that happened there,” you swallow, tapping your right temple at him, and Joel senses the damage it would cause the both of you if he digs around that grave site, so he presses no further; just leaves withered roses on the ground before walking away.

Instead he sighs, and the frown that is so moulded into his features returns. “Ya needed me, so many times n’ I wasn’t there.” Joel utters.

The scar, not leaving his sight, taunts him of his failures to protect yet another person he’d cared about from all the rot in the world.

“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” You sigh gently. "Supposed to, anyway."

You turn your wrist around and look down at the scar that you used to loathe. You try to remember what your skin looked like before it was there and you come up blank. It feels like it's always been a part of you, even before it was physical.

“I haven’t felt strong in a long time.” Joel whispers out, and your head turns to him.

Jaded from years of craggy, cemented trauma, a hardened shell like the shirt pulled taught on his back sits heavy on him; even if it crushes him most days.

It's impenetrable, solid steel. Nuclear bomb proof. But you just witnessed him take the weight of it off for a second, lighten the load, and it leaves you paralysed to hear him say it.

In your head, you’re yelling at yourself to rush forward and scoop him up in your arms. But you sense he probably doesn't want that. Wouldn't know how to accept it and it pains you further.

“You’re stronger than you know. That’s why you’re still here.” You say, weakly. It's hard to believe that yourself some days.

He drops his head, his hands now a thick, clumsy ball of knots inside his lap and mulling over your words. He offers no words, but just the subtle shaking of his head as though you're wrong about that.

“Joel, I have to tell you something.” You begin with a little hesitation. But you can’t keep this from him. Not now.

He looks up at you with some mild concern. “What?”

You roll your lips over one another; they’re dry, chapped and don’t taste like your own anymore. You feel your heartbeat quicken.

“Tommy told me about Sarah.” You reveal in a low tincture.

You see Joel's cheekbones flex by his ears as he grinds his teeth. “I figured he might.”

His own voice is toneless and it makes your bones ache to hear no music in it.

“I know there’s nothing I can say-”

“I can’t,” he says, holding up a large palm and shaking his head.

“You don’t have to.” You confirm. “You don’t ever have to. And I’ll never…” You trail off. Perhaps you should heed him and actually stop as you fumble around your words.

“You can say it.” Joel nudges you, his eyes sinking further back into his skull.

You sit in the other chair beside him, dragging it close.

“I’ll never understand what it’s like. What it’s been like for you, without her."

"Ya never had any?" Deapite his warning, he asks you, and you shake your head.

"I bet she was incredible… But I do understand why-” you tap your scar, and he looks at it with a deeply etched sadness drawn on his face. “-Why you tried to make it stop.”

His expression makes your eyes water and you tell yourself to not falter, to not crack or break when he needs you now.

Endure and survive. Endure and fucking survive!

Joel reaches for your hand, resting it upright on his knee and trails his index finger lightly across the trench of the scar. It makes you shiver as you both watch him do it.

You feel the warmth flood through your body at breakneck speeds. Live through the way you shudder as your spine resets itself and you swallow like you're choking, dying.

He's killing you with a bare, featherlight touch and you can't abnegate yourself from heading to the light.

"Sometimes... it feels like we were never there. Was a dream, that life. I dreamt it. All of it. I dreamt her up... Must've, to have been so happy, so content. So fuckin' unprepared." Joel sniffs. "Then we just... lost it all. Everythin'. N' for what?"

His eyes find yours, his face softens and his fingers continue that gentle, heady contact. And you both sit there for what feels like an age, not speaking whilst he familiarises himself with your own pain.

"This ain't survival. This is fuckin' Hell. And I couldn't even..." You hear him whisper to you as he shakes his head recalling his own failure. "I flinched. The bullet missed. I don't know why. Somethin' kept me here. Punishin' me."

You soon feel your fingers brushing against his wrist, and then interlocking with his digits. You both squeeze tightly against one another and neither one of you falters that grip.

Not even for a second.

Not even when your palms sweat and your fingers ache under the crush of him.

“I wish ya both could've met.” He utters, head bowed in the direction of your scar, and you see a single tear drip from his face and land on the thigh of his worn jeans. "She would've liked ya."

You squeeze his hand tighter, and he squeezes back.

You don't say anything, because honestly, what can you say? Mere words are destitute. He carries more anger, more remorse; more guilt than a human being could ever drag the weight of behind them. It's crushing him on the daily.

Joel Miller had already crossed over into Hell and eternal damnation the moment Sarah was taken from him. He'd lost his baby girl. Ripped from his arms as he’d yelled at Tommy to help him frantically as she slipped away from her daddy's embrace; bled out all over him and he'd never felt more helpless. More alone.

He'd resided in that Hell on a daily basis; adding to his heavy life sentence with the onerous deeds he'd committed since. Heathen atrocities, blood stained hands, and stacks of faces haunt the darker trenches of his mind. Joel can never escape them.

There were things - depraved and animalistic things - you could never know about Joel, for he would never burden you with the horrors of their weight. Some of it's from a selfish point of view; he wouldn’t be able to stand the pity you’d tarnish him with.

Or the forgiveness.

He’d carry it all himself and save you that pressure, save you from the nightmares soaked in an iron tasting sweat. He'd been lost for a while, knuckles sheathed in the crimson of the innocent.

He had wielded a scythe and dealt the cards in the House’s favour. Death's bitch, who refused him an easy way out when he'd finished with him.

He’d done heinous, despicable things all in the name of survival and base instincts, that he was inherently ashamed of; carried demons that wouldn’t let him rest or sleep as they clawed at his face continuously.

And when he looks at your scar, it’s another thing to add to the pile of calcified bones that have mounted up behind him.

He should have been there for you. Should have fought harder to find you. Tore up the world in his search. He should never have let you fucking go in the first place.

You can’t pull him out of that fiery torment, walk across the hot coals and lead him out by the hand, not fully. Your comprehension of it wouldn’t even begin to pierce through that layered steel.

But you offer a moment’s calm in the swirling hurricane as you reduce it to a gentle breeze. You stop that ice from creeping up into his heart and denying it of it's beating.

You silence that voice that convinces him he's going to die, alone.

You squeeze Joel's hand and offer a moment or two for the hellfire to stop burning him and blistering his skin. You take his pain and pull blood soaked threads from it, finally speaking in a language that he can understand and respond back in fluently.

For a moment, you squeeze back. And that’s more than Joel will ever be able to ask for.

To be continued...

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melodygatesauthor · 3 months

Text

The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 9: Betrayed

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

A/N: I've finished writing this series! I'll be posting the final 3 chapters every Sunday for the next 3 weeks!

Chapter Summary

You and Marc are running out of time. You need to come up with a plan...and fast.

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/Warnings NSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 1.6k

You smelled different since Marc had been with you just the other night, and he felt more drawn to you than ever before.

Khonhsu must’ve noticed it as well. It was obvious with the change in his attention toward you, especially in front of Ammit. Marc observed the way he held onto your hip so tightly, fingers digging into your side a little more possessively than before. Your scent had changed from that sweet aroma to a warm musk, and Marc couldn’t describe the way it made him feel.

Protective? Possessive? As if he would - without hesitation - tear the limbs off of anyone who thought of harming you even the slightest? It’s not like he didn’t feel this way about you before, but something was different now. He felt a deeper…connection.

Something else had changed. Marc could see Khonshu paying more attention to him, which made his stomach turn. Did he know? Was he biding his time, toying with Marc until they got back to the mansion? Would he stick Marc in the thirst room until you were dead and he’d never see you again? It was as if all the wind had been punched out of his lungs when he thought about that. Your mortality was always on the back of his mind, but he’d never really considered living without you.

He couldn’t fucking live without you.

“Marc!” Khonshu snapped, forcing Marc to jump out of his thoughts and give all his attention to his master. “Out.”

The word was final, strong, and non-negotiable. Without any sort of acknowledgement, Marc left the lounge, which Khonshu had been using as a makeshift meeting room for his own household while on Ammit’s property. In his quarters, Marc stewed, an anxious poison bubbling in his gut at the thought of what may happen if his fears were justified. What if Khonshu knew about what he’d done with you, and what if, as a result, that night was the last chance he would ever have to save you both?

It wasn’t a matter of if, anymore, it was a matter of when he could sneak off to your room and a matter of how hard it would be to convince you that the two of you needed to get out of there immediately. There were several obstacles, but he thought he could figure them out with your help. The only thing that was for certain was the fact that you both needed to leave as soon as possible.

Marc had expected it would be a little more difficult this time around while trying to get to you, now that Khonshu was certainly suspicious of him, but to his surprise, he had no resistance getting to you at all. He wondered if everyone was busy in preparation for the return home tomorrow. You were awake, jumping out of your bed the moment he climbed in through the window. In a mad rush, you both collided, lips and tongues melting into one another through a series of moans.

“I have to–” kiss “talk to you,” you moaned, breathing heavily in between each peck.

“Me too,” he rasped, pushing you against the wall roughly. “You smell different,” he growled into your neck.

“I know,” you whispered.

Marc hoped you didn’t feel the urgency in his shaking hands while he pulled his pants down to his thighs. You held onto him tight as he lifted you effortlessly, slowly lowering your body down around his dick. You’d neglected your panties. He wondered if you were expecting him to come to you one more time before you both had to leave Ammit’s home.

You both exhaled out into the room as your bodies connected. Marc’s thrusting was ragged, and he knew it. He was desperate for you, he could feel it in every nerve ending, this intoxicating need to have you. This new scent of yours was driving him mad, and he couldn’t understand why.

“You have to bite me,” he muttered between thrusts, “and do it hard.”

You looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. He’d forgotten that you didn’t know much about his kind, other than their need for blood and the fact that they could live forever. Khonshu was careful about how much he told you and the other livestock in an effort to keep you ignorant and obedient.

“Khonshu is suspicious,” he breathed, “I don’t want to turn you but–”

Marc was cut off by the sharp pain of you biting hard into the side of his neck. He groaned as he felt the skin break. It wasn’t often that Marc felt pain, he liked it though, particularly while his cock was buried deep in your warm cunt. He sighed out a moan, completely engulfed in a feeling of pure pleasure while you drank from him. His hips started rolling harder, as if they moved on their own, basking in the feeling of the agony and ecstasy melting as one.

“Mm, yeah honey, just like that,” he cooed, kissing the side of your neck and trying to keep himself from tearing into your skin as well.

He could tell you liked the taste based solely on the fact that you were moaning more than usual while you licked at his skin. You shuddered, walls clenching around him as he pushed deeper, fucking into you harder.

“M-Marc, oh-my…”

Your breath caught in your throat and you tilted your head back to rest against the wall while he moved even faster. His orgasm came rushing through his body, hips stuttering until they were flush against yours, cock throbbing and spilling into your gushing cunt. You moaned so loudly Marc thought you might get caught so he clamped his palm down over your bloody lips.

It took several moments of holding you there before you both had calmed down enough for him to lower you to the ground. You wiped your lips and stared at him wide-eyed as if you couldn’t believe what had just transpired.

“God, I didn’t mean to bite you so hard, I’m sorry,” you said, reaching out to touch where you’d bitten his neck.

He chuckled, “don’t worry, I heal pretty quick.” He touched the wound. “Besides, we can call it payback for all the times I’ve tried to sink my teeth into you.” Marc pulled his pants back up around his hips. “How are you feeling?”

He tilted your head this way and that, looking for any indication of change. He didn’t understand. Your pupils weren’t dilated as he’d expected them to be, and you didn’t feel feverish to the touch. Turning a human didn’t take long, at least not from what he recalled.

“I don’t feel different,” you said, a hint of worry in your voice.

“Of course you don’t, little dove.”

Khonshu appeared, like a villain in a movie, sliding in through your bedroom window and striding over to Marc. He grabbed Marc by the throat before he even had a chance to react, holding him high while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Marc held onto Khonshu’s forearm, choking and gasping, trying desperately to keep himself from losing consciousness.

“Sir, please!” You yelled, louder than Marc had ever thought your voice could go.

Khonshu dropped Marc on the floor, leaving him gasping and struggling to catch his breath. Marc could see you backing up into the corner in terror but knew it would get much worse for you both if he tried to stop Khonshu. It was obvious he valued you above any other cattle and wouldn’t kill you, but Marc didn’t doubt Khonshu’s ability to make the rest of your life a living hell if he chose to.

Marc watched as Khonshu grabbed your arm roughly and forced you to the bed, bending you over the mattress. You were brave, Marc noted, hardly making a sound above a quiet whimper while Khonshu pulled your dress aside and stuck two of his thick fingers into your cunt, still slick from before.

“Just as I thought,” he spat through clenched teeth, pulling out his fingers only to reveal Marc’s cum dripping from them. “Marc,” he said as though scolding a child, “to think that my own knight would betray me so. I saved you, Marc Spector, or did you forget?!”

You turned over now, scrambling to put some distance between yourself and Khonshu.

“I didn’t forget,” Marc managed to say as he fought to control his breathing. “But you can’t keep her in a cage like an animal, you can’t keep tricking innocent people into your bullshit cult.”

Khonshu sniffed out a laugh, “and why is that, Marc? Hm? Is it because she smells so good that you’ve changed your attitude toward the cattle trade? Because until I brought her home you didn’t seem to take issue with a free food supply.” He stormed over to Marc.

Marc kept looking to you for a change in your appearance, even the slightest shift in your posture, but nothing changed. You still looked the same as you did on the day he first saw you.

“Why didn’t it work?” Marc asked coldly, looking up at Khonshu from where he still knelt on the floor.

“I know you’re young, Marc, but you’re not a fool.” Khonshu walked over to Marc and grabbed the collar of his jacket. The door to your room burst open to allow several of Khonshu’s guards in. Before they whisked Marc away, Khonshu leaned in to whisper in his ear, “you know our blood only works on humans.”

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mrsjavierp · 4 months

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Where you belong?

Chapter 5 - Die For You

Javier Peña x latin!f!reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the whole fic): +18!, angst, smut, cheating, last relationships, drug dealing - Narcos Universe (not so accurate), bad spanish, english is my second language, use of Y/N and Y/LN. No physical description of the reader, only your clothes (sometimes). The POVs are shifting between reader (first person and Narrator - 3rd person)

(If I forgot anything, tell me, pls!)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N:

So, I'm using narcos universe, but screwing up the timeline because we need plots and things for our couple. Nevertheless, just a warning for the accuracy of the series. Btw, I'd love to know about you're thinking about it so far! Your opinion is really important! Tks <3

Y/N's POV - 1st Person

After an investigation we did together with the CIA and the Mili Group, we finally had proof about La Catedral.

Steve, Javier and I were discussing the possibilities and what Noonan would authorize. At the end, I knew what to do first: talk to Gaviria.

We were running against time and Escobar again...

"Yes, ambassador. I know it's risky... But I know we can screw that MF and try to bring Escobar to the US. I'll talk to Gaviria, let me handle it."

Noonan sighed, I finally won.

"Don't disappoint me, Y/LN. You've done a hell of a job in NYC and have been doing it in Colombia. We trust you. You've got a backup plan?"

"Yes. Already on it, even with plan A working. We're not stopping until we get the motherfucker."

"Good luck, keep me posted."

I called Steve and Peña to my office.

"I'm heading to Bogota. I need to talk to Gaviria in person about it all."

"I'm going with you, jefe." - Javier said.

"No need to. As a matter of fact, I need you both here... We need to be ready to all that'll happen to La Catedral. My gut is feeling really bad."

They both knew what it meant: bad things for sure. My gut were never wrong, unfortunately. Sometimes early, but never wrong.

When I tried to reach, none of them were available.

Something is off... I reached even for Connie and she lied to my face. I'm gonna chop someone's head off.

When I arrived back at the office, my head was spinning:

An informant confirmed Moncada’s and Galeano's deaths a few days ago, meaning that Escobar was losing his senses. Was that the La Catedral effect? What will be his next move? The Colombian media were, by the way, publicizing it badly. Noonan would fuck me and the rest of the DEA, probably, if she didn't got fired before that. I knew how the US thought about it. And, the cherry on top: Javier and Steve missing.

I was really fucking overwhelmed.

A couple of hours later, while I was tracing possible steps for Escobar, trying to think like him, Steve showed up at my office.

"Murphy, what the fuck? Where the fuck were you?"

At the same time, Javier barged in: "Y/LN, I've gotta talk to you, it's urgent! I think Steve..."

"Hey, man."

"Peña, close this fucking door now!" - I yelled, furious.

I turned on the TV.

"Watch it: it's a fucking disaster. The Colombian army is outside La Catedral, Sandoval just entered... Brace yourselves."

They looked at each other, in silence.

"Here's what I think and what I'm doing: I'm suspending both of you, for a week. Stay low. I know you both tipped the media. Major Wysession told me about what you asked him, Peña... Don't you ever do that again. When I arrived here, I told all of the DEA to be straight with me and I'd be straight with you... Don't go to Wysession or Noonan or anyone. Come to me. I'll handle it. And Murphy, let me guess, Cali? Co-operation proposal?"

Steve swallowed hard.

Javier turned his face away from me.

I poured a glass of whiskey for myself.

"You better hope that Noonan doesn't get me fired."

"Y/LN, yes. Cartel de Cali kidnapped me. They didn't like that we helped kill a few of them, but apparently there was someone innocent among them..."

His words faded away as the TV announced about Escobar's escape.

Narrator's POV

Escobar ran off again.

Noonan got... A nice retirement.

You maintained your position, since Crosby knew and liked how you worked, but didn't stop you from hearing a bunch of shit.

You send Peña and Murphy to check La Catedral, but nothing worked.

"Here's the deal, niños. We're moving to CNP headquarters. Pinzón is such an ass, but I'm working on it. He hates our kind, but who doesn't in Colombia? He threw the tip line on my lap and I'm giving it to you."

"Telephone Operator? Really? Fuck me..." - Murphy complained.

Javier was... Distant. Weird in your eyes. You pretend not to care.

Something is off... - you thought.

Weeks passed since he last touched you, in that pool. A few casual happy hours, catching glimpses. Smirks.

When you touched yourself, even without your vibrator, his image was right there: crystal clear in your mind.

You were almost giving up drinking your beloved whiskey and dear cigars... To be healthy?

Fuck, no.

The whiskey's flavor and the cigar's scent remind you of his breath. You wanted to keep him far, but it was becoming unbearable.

"Be patient, you two. I'm not allowed to say much for now. At least pretend to do something. I'm working on our budget and relations with both governments."

After a few screw ups from the agents, as they captured Bush and became a joke, the days were appearing longer and harder. You were practically going insane to prove Crosby, the soon to be new ambassador, that your new, big and, overall, expensive plan was going to work.

You only needed a little luck...

Until it happened: the tip line handed to you three La Quica, one of Escobar's sicarios.

"Pinzón, I'll be a car and two men. Don't make me push further. We're just checking, we're not going to alarm'em." - you told him.

He sighed, made a joke about the fake calls... But said yes.

As you all prepared to go, Murphy received a call from Connie and she told she was leaving Colombia.

"No, Con, please... Just listen!" - Steve was desperate.

"Murphy, go to the airport. You're not going with us. Go talk to your family, now!" - you spoked at him and he ran off.

"Let's go, boys. We all want La Quica." - I said.

Y/N's POV - 1st Person

"I swear, I don't know this one!" - Javier defended himself.

"I already told you, we don't care, Peña. But is this new? It's gotta be, as you don't know it..." - I joked, my heart was a little broken.

The other cops laughed, as Peña rolled his eyes.

I didn't want to admit that his fame towards prostitutes and brothels made me jealous and a little resentful.

He'd never know about how I felt nor my... Preference for a certain sextoy baptized after him.

"Stop by the payphone, back here." - I hid my gun and put on a cap, to match my jeans, sneakers and plain shirt. I could pass without no one noticing. - "Vamonos." (Let's go)

Me, Javier and one of the cops got out of the car, one by one.

But someone spotted us and told La Quica.

Out of the sudden, we're running around and, at the market, behaving as a predator hunting a prey.

That place was so hot, so crowded... I couldn't see anything... Until he glanced before my eyes.

"Gotcha, pendejo." - I ran as fast as my legs could and a bit more.

A fucking cross-fire started out of the blue and I had to hold a little.

Fuck! - I cursed alone.

I needed to think fast: we're just four and didn't know who to shoot.

Fuck it! I'm going after him! - I decided.

"Someone cover for me!" - I yelled and ran off again. I didn't have an answer before going.

Narrator's POV:

"Fuck! Where is she?" - Peña yelled.

When the shots stopped, they saw how the Colombians were frightened. They just wanted peace, not gringos and narcos shooting around.

"Where the fuck is my jefe?" - Javier asked again, screaming, to the other cops, seeing red, looking for you. The veins on his neck were bulging.

The backup arrived shortly with Pinzón.

"My men are looking for her, she went after one of the big fish. Some nerve the girl got, gotta say." - Pinzón mocked.

The other cops held Javier, asking for him to calm down.

Javier'd burn all the fuck down, until he finds you.

"Let me go. Not in the mood." - he said to the poor guy.

"Peña, look! It's her!" - He pointed out to you, a little bit hurt, your pink shirt torn and dirty.

Smiling like a kid on Christmas morning, you came out of nowhere, a little hurt, a few bruises starting to appear, your blouse dirty and torn up... But still looking pleased: a victorious agent.

Coming closer to Peña and Pinzón, you start:

"¡Mis amigos, mira que cosita más bonita tengo acá! I'd like to formally introduce you to this pendejo... Not La Quica this time, but we've got Luiz Rodriguez." (My friends, look what a beautiful thing I've got!)

"In my car I have a bag with 50 grand. If you give me one hour, I can make it ten times bigger." - he offered.

You burst out laughing at him.

"Oh, mi regalito..." (my little gift) - You had started, as one of Pinzón's men put on some handcuffs and you fondled his cheek. - "You're going to Disneyland. Don't worry, we're gonna take so much care of you, mi tesoro." (My treasure)

Javier knew you're mocking that sicario, but he still felt something awful on his chest, 'cause you're supposed to call him those sweet names, not that thug.

Arriving at the building, you and Javier went to the locker room, to change before going home.

"Y/N, you scared the shit out of me. Luiz did all of these injuries? Or has anyone helped him? I swear, if there's someone else, I'll..." - he started, looking worried at you.

Y/N's POV - 1st Person

"No, Peña." - I interrupted him, as I searched for clothes in my locker. - "You're not doing anything. I can take care of myself."

Javier punched his locker hard as fuck.

"I thought I lost you! Don't ever do that again!" - he yelled.

I laughed, in a sarcastic tone, observing him. He seemed actually worried.

"You know what, Peña? I don't care!" - I lifted my blouse, showing my huge scar on my ribs. - "Can you see it?" - his face shifted from pissed to desolated, as my eyes watered. He looked at another place. - "No! Don't turn! Take a nice long look at it! - My tone was so harsh. His eyes were so sad. - I always take care of myself! I've been alone in this world for as long as I remember, Peña. It's not my first fight on the field, it's not gonna be the last!"

His face was devastated... He felt sorry for me?

"Are you sorry for me, Peña? Oh, grow up! Why do you even care if I die or live? I know you hate me! And you know what? I fucking hate your guts as well!" - I screamed.

He remained silent. Why?

I started to change to a black shirt. I needed to leave.

I walked to the door, but when I noticed, he was behind me, holding it, not letting me leave.

"Y/N, cariño, I know you can take care of yourself, you've been doing that for a while now..." - he whispered in my ear. - "I heard you, by the way... Yes, I heard while you took care of yourself almost every night."

I swallowed hard, thinking:

Oh fuck, he heard me... Oh no...

"However, you called out my name, didn’t you?" - he continued.

I leaned on the door pressing my back against it, turning to face him as Javier got on his knees and looked at my with those puppy brown eyes and said:

"Let me make your fantasy come true, cariño... Let me be your good boy, your obedient soldier."

His hands started to take off my boots and socks, one by one.

After that, he unbuttoned my jeans and slowly, so slowly, put it down to my feet, throwing it somewhere...

There I was, only in underwear and a shirt, my skin felt hot.

His eyes never left mine.

I took off my shirt and bra and, lastly, his hands took off my red panties, at a slow pace, as if he was trying not to scare me off.

There I was, naked in front of Javier.

He seemed to be thinking on what to do first, until he said:

"Tell me what you want, cariño. Let me be your good boy."

I just nodded positively.

"Words, please. Use your big beautiful mouth, cariño."

"Y-y-yes, Javi... Put your lips on me, show me how good you are..." - my voice barely came out.

He smiled, picked up one of my legs over his shoulder exposing me. His lips met my folds, oh so soft, so delicate... My hand grabbed his hair, pulling closer.

He explored me, without any rush, as if he wanted to last as long as possible... Teasing my hole, opening me up with the tip of his tongue, fucking me. My clit throbbed, as my pussy clenched around his tongue.

I bit my lips, trying to stay quiet, my eyes closed. I couldn't look down, I was almost ashamed.

"Mmm..." - I sobbed, pulling his hair harder.

He slipped two fingers in me, and taking his mouth off me, said:

"Look at me, cariño, open your beautiful eyes while I make you feel good. Am I doing, at least, a nice job?" - he smirks, knowing he was. I opened my eyes, looking down, probably blushing. No one ever made me look as I was being eaten out. - "A little reassurance won't kill you."

"Y-y-yeah, Peña..." - I managed to say.

Oh, fuck.

His thumb met my clit, putting a gentle pressure as his middle and index fingers touched my g-spot.

"You can do better than that, cariño..." - he grinned, asking for more. - "You wet half of my face, Hermosa, you can call me Javi again."

"¡Hijo de puta!" - I cursed. - "Make me come on your lips, for God's sake... Be my good boy, Peña." - I asked.

He smiled and got back to suck my clitoris, making me shake under his touch.

I came so hard, dripping all over Javier, calling out his name.

He took off one finger, slowing his pace. A very satisfied "hum" came out of him.

"You taste like heaven... You were such a good girl for me, cariño... But I'm greedy, you know? I want more from you and your sweet little pussy." - he smiled. - "I wanna see you beggin'... I'm not stopping now."

I was still burning from my first orgasm.

Javier Jesus Peña was trying to kill me, for sure.

My hand traveled from his hair to his cheek, caressing him.

"Javi... I'm only gonna say this once: do what you want with me. Do what you want to my body. I'm yours for tonight."

His finger left me, leaving me empty.

Oh, fuck.

He stood up, looking deep in my eyes.

"My place or yours?" - he questioned.

"Yours." - I responded, barely breathing.

He picked up my clothes, helped me get dressed and we went to his place.

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summercourtship · 23 days

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Hi Kyra! this post will just be me commenting my favorite moments from this chapter ( it’s so funny bcs this IS my favorite chapter so far… to be fair, every chapter that you post becomes my new favorite chapter….) so don’t be surprised of how LONG this will be…

I ABSOLUTELY ADORED THE FIRST SCENE!!!! how could you think of not putting it in??? it’s SO GOOD!!!! i loved edward getting conflicted about telling his fantasies to the mc, only to say it anyway bcs she basically said: “pretty please with a cherry on top 🥺🥺🥺” and after it he even strokes her hair??!!?! what a man….

I want to congratulate you on the build up and immersion that you created when Jonathan was guiding us to the basement! Holy fuck! that was INSANE!!!! i was genuinely scared while reading it, like i knew that he wasn’t going to actually hurt us BUT STILL!!!! and him (angrily) taking his glasses off when talking about Bruce (like i have this gut feeling that he still holds a resentment to him for dancing with us) was TOP TIER!!! and jesus fucking christ i don’t even need to say the smut part of it all so fucking good… the small gestures of yearning that he did (that could -it is- be him manipulating us BUT WHO GIVES A FUCK?) the “have you missed this?” YEAH I DID!!! and i KNOW he did too!! you can’t fool me!!! everything about was just perfect… goes to show that Jonathan Crane is intoxicating…. that jerk…

Bruce Wayne is the people’s princess, he IS the ultimate damsel in distress, EVERYONE IS OUT TO GET THAT MAN!!! but seriously, the scene where the reader is deciding that she is going to betray Bruce and he just smiles at her and she realizes that SHE CAN’T HURT HIM!!!!! IT MELTED MY HEART ❤️ him being worried and still being there for her…. BRUCE NATION WE WON SO HARD WITH THE PECK IN THE ROOFTOP AND WE ARE GOING TO A PARTY WITH MISTER WAYNEEEEEE!!!!!! WHAAAAAT??!!! him asking was so funny and cute too!!!! i absolutely LOVE their dynamic!!!

Thank you so much kyra!!! thanks for sharing your amazing story! i know how personal they are! i don’t think you get thanked enough!!! i love your art, i love the passion you have for it… so yeah thanks!!!

ahh! thank you so much! I love getting these asks, I love hearing everyone's thoughts and analysis of what I've written it really makes my work feel appreciated!

I was very nervous that the first smut scene would feel unnecessary or OOC but decided that it didn't matter! I also don't really think there's going to be anymore Edward smut (in this fic, at least) so I wanted to treat you all to some more since a lot more people liked their dynamic than I thought would when I was planning the fic! He's sweet now but he is also... volatile.

Thank you! I was so excited to write the basement scene with Jonathan and I'm glad you all are enjoying it! Jonathan definitely doesn't like Bruce, the extent of which will be revealed slowly. I also loved writing the contrast between Jonathan's downright tender moments and the gross filthy stuff. Both of which are, indeed, ways he's trying to regain his control over the reader.

Bruce and the reader's relationship is FINALLY moving somewhere lmao. I know y'all have been SOOO patient. It is so funny to me, though, that the reader is like to Batman "please please protect Bruce!! he's a lil baby, he can't protect himself!" because girl.... that IS BRUCE. he'll be fine. It also adds another layer to their conversation that is, to me, delicious. I really enjoy dramatic irony, can you tell?

#ask #anon #stbotdi

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stephsycamore · 3 months

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Hello friends. Yet another post on a topic literally no one here signed up for but the blog is about my hyperfixation of the month so here we are

I have been reading dramione. I know in my last post i said i was ki da over dramione after a couple of fics because i find the pairing too toxic but i only kinda lied because i have just reread the like 4 dramione fics i found and liked and now i will review them. Technically i have read/started more than 4 but i won't be commenting on fics i didn't like because that isn't fair to the writers.

The first one was manacled. Which i know what a fucking reintroduction to the fandom. But i am no young newbie. I used to read and rewrite A LOT of harry potter fic and while its still fuck jk rowling, she doesn't financially benefit from fic and i heard years ago that she doesn't like fic so. I hope its all a big fuck u to her.

Anyway, manacled. Wow!!! What the fuck???? It has lived rent free in my head ever since. I literally cannot stop thinking about it. If ever i reentered the harry potter fic world let it be known that it would be so i can write fanfic of this fanfic. A couple points - manacled is kinda overly long and would benefit from an editor/beta reader, but I heard senlinyu wrote it on her phone while nursing a baby and just???? Idk what her day job is, but that woman needs to be doing creative writing mfas, writers workshops, residencies, whatever. That is extraordinary creative talent.

I think the first part with hermione in the manor was a bit overly long and too torture porn ish. A lot of the scenes bordered into the unnecessarily gratituous. But overall, it was well plotted, well written, and gut wrenching. The last section takes my breath away

The second fic i read was Remain Nameless. And while i kinda don't love smut (it makes me a little uncomfy) i think remain nameless is a perfrct example of fanfic as a genre. Within fic, there are obviously genres, but there are stylistic elements and things that I think makes fanfiction a genre in itself. Remain Nameless is an exploration of character that goes beyond the confines of conventional or traditionally publish-able story structure. It is too long, too drawn out, too indulgent to be a traditionally published story. If i swap out the names and details in Manacled or Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in love (up next) out, its a probably close to a stand alone novel, but Remain Nameless relies on you knowing and already caring about Draco and Hermione. I don't mean that disparagingly at all, I just think sometimes people don't realize that fanfic should be different from traditionally published novels and that is a benefit of the genre. I think Remain Nameless is great. Its an indulgent, fluffy read that takes two broken people and slowly puts them back together again. Its like a hug in book format.

My next one is DMATMOOBIL!! I loved this one. And the author??? You cannot convince me that this fic was not written by someone with literal years of publishing experience in contemporary romance. No way. Its too good. Not just in a good writing way. Manacled is good in an unfiltered, raw talent way, but DMATMOOBIL is polished. The plot is perfectly structured and then each chapter within that is perfectly structured. I loved it. It wad witty, funny, heartfelt, and exciting. Not sure what more I can say about it. It reads like published fiction both in its polish and readability, and I think of all the fics I read has the best worldbuilding. It is truly exciting to read about the possibilities of magical and muggle science colliding in this book and bringing their world to the 21st century.

The last fic i read was Green Light by SereneMusafir. I thought it was so good but would benefit from being split into two maybe even three books. Green Light features a journalist coming to interview Draco many years after the events of the book, so that kinda complicates splitting it up, but as it stands, the story parts are too vast and thematically disparate to be one book. The first part has Draco and Hermione on an expedition in the desert to find a archeological myth and the writing is extraoridinary. Its poetic and cinematic. But I think at times it all tries to do too much. Like I said, the whole thing needs to be split up but each chapter also needs to be a bit shorter. Again, I don't mean cutting content, but rather restructuring. As it is, I read an incredible scene, but then there's like 5 more scenes of something else, and by the time I'm at the end of the chapter, I've kinda forgotten what amazing prose I read earlier on. Things get lost in this way. Beautiful passages buried.

I think two or three books would also allow each thematic section to be explored better. Idk i thought about this one a lot. I likely will not reread Green Light the way I have reread the others on this list, but other than Manacled, it is the one I think about most. Its the most ambitious plot wise and it kinda got lost in that ambition but I think it has so much potential and was over all very good.

Anyway. That is the end to this book review no one asked for. I will likely not be reading more dramione. So here ends that brief of excellent phase.

#dramione #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry pottet fanfic #dramione fic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #manacled #senlinyu #remain nameless #heyjude19 #draco malfoy and the mortifying ordeal of being in love #isthisselfcare #dmatmoobil #green light #serenemusafir

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may-bornmia · 9 months

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Clingy Little Baby (series) - Bang Chan

(a/n: THIS HAS BEEN POSTED ON WATTPAD UNDER MY USERNAME may_bornmia !!)

Pairings: Bang Chan x OC (you can picture yourself, whatever makes you comfortable :))

Warnings (for the entirety of the series): littlespace, forthcoming smut, subspace, a HUGE amount of fluff, fast-paced story

CHAPTER 7: Stimulation

While the professor gave a monologue about something Ahyoung was paying grave attention to, Chan was barely listening. You know, that feeling when you sit with your crush for the first time and you have that anticipation bubbling up in your gut that is more or less unexplainable? Exactly that.

He kept glancing at her every now and then, watching her from the side as her eyes were concentrated on the presentation slide being played on the screen before them, and her mouth moved in quiet whispers as she repeated what was being taught and penned down the details in her notebook. Chan inconspicuously grinned; it was such a sight to see her so concentrated on her work.

However, he immediately averted his eyes when she glanced at him midway, and then looked at his notebook, "You haven't written anything?"

"Oh- um," he tripped over his words, "I have already studied this at home."

She raised her brows, "That's actually impressive!"

Score!

Chan smiled widely, "Thanks, pretty."

She smilingly blushed, unable to conceal her pleasure at the nickname. With twinkling eyes, she moved her gaze back to the screen, cheeks pink and a smile sitting on her lips. Seeing that, he knew that she was warming up to him -- how her flustered face was not accompanied by anxiety, but with a smile.

Ahyoung was suddenly aware of everything; how the professor's voice sounded, how a pen was being clicked on and on for minutes, how Chan sat beside her in all his muscular glory, and how his hand was vacantly placed beside hers. That hand had comforted her yesterday to a huge extent, calming her anxiety down.

Should I do it? -- she inwardly asked herself, eyeing his pale hand lying wide open before her, practically inviting her to bury her hand in it. She averted her eyes to look at the board, but they kept moving back to Chan's strong, veiny hand placed at a very convenient spot beside her.

Eventually, she gave in to the temptation, and moved her hoodie paw to place it into his warm hand, fingers loosely lacing with his. She felt his hand almost jerk upon the contact, and thought that she may have crossed a line; as she was about to draw it back, embarrassed, she felt his fingers curling around hers and clutching her hand in a delicate grip.

Chan was, needless to say, astonished at her move. He had not seen that coming -- her initiating physical contact with him. And the second he felt her small hand about to be withdrawn... he clung onto it for dear life, no joke.

He pulled his lips in and shifted closer to her -- just the slightest bit -- and his thumb traced patterns on the skin on the back of her hand. He dared to glance at her once, and saw that her lower lip was between her teeth and her eyes were flickering around; between him and the screen and the window. He stifled a chuckle at her adorable behavior, whispering to her, "You don't need to be so flustered, babygirl. It's just your Channie."

At this point, he was not even trying to flirt subtly.

And he raised a brow when she pulled her knees together, her legs sticking to each other. What was she thinking? Whatever it was, Chan was quite interested to know.

And Ahyoung? The nicknames were actually getting to her. Sending tingles down her body. Goosebumps on her skin. Making her react in a way she had no control over. Babygirl? How did he know...?

Her face warmed up, and her grip on his hand tightened just barely. Chan brought his other hand to their intertwined hands, placing it on the back of her hand so that her tiny hoodie paw was covered with his big ones. More than anything, he was just proud of himself for making her react this way. What more lengths could she go to if he stimulated her a bit more? He was dying to know.

Chan knew that he was going a bit too fast when he lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. However, when he heard a low, choked gasp from her, he smirked, knowing how he had successfully elicited a response that he desired from her. And as long as she was okay with it, he knew what he could do to elicit such reactions from her cute, gorgeous self.

He looked at her, and realized that she was looking at him, too, face red and heated, her heart beating dangerously quick. So, he leaned in next to her ear and whispered, "Focus on the screen, princess."

Although she was starting to heat up, she obeyed him easily, confirming to Chan how submissive she was.

And he knew just what to do with this pretty little sub.

---

(a/n: to be continued)

Taglist (let me know if you wanna be added!): @whyyougottadothatbro @inara-a @berryberrytan @blissfulchahn

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arrieebooks · 1 year

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Precious Weapon (4)

Pairing : Lloyd Hansen x F!OC (Elle) x Sierra Six.

Summary : Six discusses with her about Lloyd. Her very first mission. She disobeys Lloyd's orders and they get into a fight that leads into something else.

Warnings : Lloyd being a rough trainer. Explosions. Injury. Cursing. Mentions of detailed murder. Gore. So much angst. Fighting. Really rough smut. Pain kink. Oral smut. Fingering. Blood kink. Dirty talk. Pure filth at the end. Vague voyeurism. Fluff and comfort.

Word Count : 16.8k words.

Author's note : heyy! I was writing this while also editing chapter 3 during my vacation so that's why I'm posting this part in less than two weeks of the previous chapter. I personally liked this chapter, mostly because there was smut in it and I like writing smut, somehow. Anyhow, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did while writing it!

***

Elle absolutely hates Lloyd's guts with everything in her.

She wants to kill him so badly if she could.

He is the worst trainer ever for her.

He's rough. Harsh. Inconsiderate. Always yelling at her. Tiring her out all day. Making her wounded all the time even though it's usually her fault because she was clumsy and he knows she heals in less than seconds but still, he could've at least been a little bit fragile of her.

It's been one full week of training. Thankfully.

She's so fucking tired. She hasn't had a second to even rest the whole week. They train all day and only take breaks during breakfast, lunch and dinner. That's it. After that, they train again and again until it's late and it's time for bed.

Even Six is tired of watching them train all day from the gym's bench. Lloyd doesn't seem to even be tired. He could do that all day and he did. He only let Six train her for one day. He trained her even better than Lloyd since his training was different from him but he's way softer with her. That's the problem.

He mostly trains her to fight a lot without her powers. She has enhanced strength but didn't know how to use it at all so he taught her. He made her punch a lot of solid objects and she bled a lot. He taught her a little martial arts but he doubts that she needs any of that when she could punch someone and they'd immediately pass out from how strong her punch is.

He likes that she's strong. That her body could withstand any pain. He doesn't have to hold back with her, not a single bit because he knows she can take it. He can do whatever he wants with her. In which he succeeded.

With her powers, it's way easier. She's used it her whole life so she knows it well and all the spells she made are in her head already — she doesn't need a stupid spell book. Her reflexes are good, too. She can even catch a bullet or a knife or any weapon thrown at her with her powers. Or with her bare hands if she's lucky enough to catch them in time.

Today, she can finally relax. Even just for a second. Because today's her first mission. She's a little nervous. Lloyd and Six have given her little hints on what CIA missions would be like. But they left out all the bad and important details, of course.

She's just waiting for Lloyd to tell her about her mission now. He's been on the first floor of the penthouse for hours now, talking to Denny and handling everything.

Six is right beside her, as always. They're chilling on the couch of the living room, letting the TV on as it plays a movie that she's currently focused on. But he's not.

He's focused on her, only. As always. He'll never get tired of watching her.

This whole week, they barely touched each other. Only a few kisses here and there but she's been sleeping in her own room because Lloyd has been watching them like a hawk. He even stays up late until she falls asleep in her own room.

He's doing it on purpose so they don't even try to fuck. At all. He didn't say anything about it in particular but he just kept saying that she can't have any "distractions" and they both fully knew what that meant. Six knew it better than she did.

She just thinks that it's because he cares so much for the mission and for his weapon and that he can't let her get even a tiny bit distracted.

But Six knows the real reason why — Lloyd wants her too. But he can't let himself have her so he doesn't want anyone else to have her, even Six, the only man he's ever tolerated enough to not kill him. He respects him, too.

"This movie is boring." Elle remarks, glancing at him with a small pout on her lips. Her head is leaned on his shoulder as his hand is around her shoulder. They're comfy and getting cozy now.

Six chuckles. "You said you wanted to watch it." He reminds her.

She shakes her head. "Not really. I just wanted a distraction from the anxious anticipation of Lloyd's big announcement for my mission. It's been hours."

"He'll be out soon." he assures her.

"That's what you said an hour ago." she reminds him.

He sighs. "I know. I'm sorry. If we go downstairs right now, he'll just yell at us again."

She breaks into a soft giggle. "Yeah, that seems to be what he does these days. Especially to me. I think he's too tense. He needs to relax."

Six furrows his eyebrows. "How?"

Elle shrugs, her fingers toying with his thick fingers. "I don't know. Maybe he needs someone for himself. Someone to lick his wounds and help him calm down. Someone patient enough, of course. But not like a girlfriend, I know he doesn't do that." she says.

He hums teasingly, moving his mouth closer to her ears. "Sounds like someone I know well."

She chuckles, feeling ticklish. "Absolutely not. He hates me."

Six frowns. "No, he doesn't. He's just pretending to." he says, flatly.

Elle lifts her eyebrows in surprise. "Really? But why?" she asks.

"It's easier that way for him." he slowly says, "You know, because he doesn't want to jeopardize the mission if he gets distracted by…you."

She scoffs. "You mean, by fucking me?"

"Yeah."

She grimaces in disbelief. "No. No, that's not—he wants to fuck me? I mean I remembered our night at the bar but that ended already. I thought that he only wanted me that night. Not until now. Because he doesn't do long term shit. He told me."

"You don't feel the same?"

"No. I don't feel attracted to him anymore since that night."

Six straightens up, looking behind him to check the foyer before his eyes meet hers again. He gives her a small thoughtful look that's barely there as his fingers gently brush her hair away from her face and he sighs. "Do you remember last week, when we had to all stay in your house for one night?" he suddenly asks, really quietly.

Elle nods, curious to where he's going with this as she creases her eyebrows. "Yeah. Hard to miss. Why?" she asks.

He exhales softly. "Well, he told me that he walked in on you showering that night and he saw you naked, just your back but, he said that you opened your bathroom door wide. I don't know, it feels like you knew he was going to be there, you know? Because of your hearing. And I'm fine with it—"

Six accusing her? That's new. Certainly not very him. Truth be told, he didn't even want to say anything earlier. Lloyd told him this in a brief and casual conversation last week. He wasn't planning to confront her about it. But he's curious. He wants to know if she's attracted to him that way just the same way he does for her.

She retreats from him, widening her eyes. "Woah, what the shit! He saw me naked? And didn't say anything?" She raises her voice, filling the empty penthouse.

Six remains calm despite her lashing out. "He didn't want to make it weirder." he simply says.

"I thought you had walked in that time. That's why I kept the door open wide when I heard footsteps approaching." Elle explains to him in a harsh tone.

Six slowly nods. "Alright, then. Look, he didn't indicate that you did it on purpose. I was the one who assumed that you…well, we haven't really discussed it, right? How it would be with us and him."

She shrugs. "What's there to discuss? He's okay with us." she assumes.

He scoffs, shaking his head gently. "I mean, is he? You know that he's been trying to keep us apart this whole week, Elle." he reminds her.

"What, you think he doesn't want us to fuck just because he wants to fuck me too?" she scoffs at her own words, "Come on, that's ridiculous. He doesn't want to fuck me, Six. At least not anymore. And that's good. For me. Because I bet he's rough and selfish in bed."

Six chuckles through his nose. "Not to sound like an asshole but didn't you say you liked it rough better?" he mumbles.

Elle looks at him, shocked but intrigued and possibly a little turned on that he remembered her words and is using it against her. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Just not him." she says, smirking as she slowly crawls onto his lap.

He leans his head with a hand behind it as his other hand wraps around her waist. "You'd never know if you've never tried."

She frowns. "You want me to try fucking him?" she accuses and her voice slips out in a different accent.

Six shakes his head. "No, I mean, try giving him a chance. Just like you said earlier, he could use someone to help him relax." he gently says.

"I don't want to. It's not my job. Just get a nice hooker or something. We'll pay her." She proposes an idea.

He laughs quietly. "You're serious? Elle, no. He'd hate it. He told me that he didn't want to fuck any hookers in this city. He was a bit paranoid if they're clean enough, you know."

She snorts. "Okay, fine. Not a hooker then. Well, look, as much as I love helping people, he's not going to want me to do it. I mean, maybe he does want me, like you said but knowing Lloyd, he's probably just going to deny, deny and deny."

"Wait, what about your best friend? Amelia? She seems just as nice as you." he asks.

No. Lloyd wouldn't like her. She's too much of a saint for him. She's not really like Elle, actually. They're very different if anyone had bothered to look close enough. Sure, they both share the same love for science and their style is almost similar but they have a lot of differences that they never really talk about. Elle doesn't mind doing something a little bad to do good. Amelia doesn't. And there's the other fact where Elle fuck whoever she wants because she can but Amelia doesn't want to do that.

Elle immediately shakes her head. "No, no. Fuck no. Lloyd isn't her type. And neither is she for him. Also, she hates white guys. She knows their only motive for local girls. To fuck them and then leave."

Six nods. "Right. That's called a one-night stand. And I'm usually grateful that they leave first so it's not going to be awkward."

She giggles out loud. "Yeap. Yes. I agree. That's so true."

His eyes focus on hers and her little facial features all lighting up as she begins to smile at him. She likes this. It's been a while since they had a moment just for themselves and their little jokes and their loose laughters. His lips slowly tug into a small smile watching her happy like this.

He sighs, his hands moving to cup her face. "Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to accuse you like that. Wasn't my intention." he apologizes softly.

Elle's face relaxes and sighs too. "It's okay," she softens her voice, "Hey, if you do want to share or try to, at least, I'm fine with it. Because to be honest, it did cross my mind a few times last week, what it would be like to have him again. But it was just a quick flash of thought."

Six's face even looks shocked as he tries to contain himself. He's not used to showing emotions. But he forgot who he's with right now. She's someone he trusts.

His fingers play with her hair as his other hand touches her cheeks and she leans on his palm. "What'd you think of?" he asks softly, it almost comes out as a whisper.

She hums, thinking on it and as the thought comes back to her mind, she shifts her body on his lap. "Like, how it would feel like to have his fingers in me again or you know, if I had you both, at the same time—but it's stupid, really. I'm with you already. It's wrong to think like that. And what if he doesn't actually want me that way? It'd be embarrassing to assume so."

"It's not stupid. It's reasonable to have fantasies. I think it's… hot. That you want us both. And, he told me has a hard-on for you. Does that help?" Six slowly asks in a soothing voice for her.

Elle giggles again, scrunching her nose a little. "Yeah, but that doesn't really mean he wants me. Because that could just be a natural reaction from the body. Science is weird, trust me. I'm the living embodiment of it." she says.

Six snorts. "It's not a natural reaction anymore if it happens too often, Elle." he tells her.

She lifts her eyebrows in surprise and widens her eyes. "Holy fuck, really? How often?" she exclaims.

He shrugs a little. "Once a day, maybe?"

She widens her eyes even bigger. "What? No way. How? I never even wore anything revealing except for gym clothes."

Six shakes his head. "You didn't have to. You exist. That's it. And that's his problem, he's making you his own problem because you're making him hard every single day without you even doing it intentionally. He's close to losing his mind, honestly." he admits.

Elle sighs, taking in the information all at once. She can't even believe that she didn't notice it since she's usually sensitive to other people's emotions — on what they feel everytime they're with her and she can feel it because of her powers. That's how she can communicate with Six without talking sometimes, because she's always feeling what he's feeling. She's in his mind and so is he. She chooses who to feel and she chooses him.

And that's when she realized something. She only ever felt what Six felt. Not what Lloyd felt. She never cared enough to do so. She convinced herself that he's too much for her, that if she felt what he felt then she'd get overwhelmed.

It might be true. Lloyd has a lot of repressed and unsolved bad memories and trauma from his past that he chose to keep hidden so he could go on with his life and his job. But that just made him…worse. It made him angry all the time. He throws tantrums, blames everyone, hurts and kills anyone he looks down on and does whatever he wants whenever he wants without thinking of the consequences ahead (most of the time).

She might've judged him wrongly. But there's more to him than she knows, than he's allowed her or anyone to know. She can see the real him with her mind, she just isn't sure if she wants to or not because what if the real him isn't so bad and she begins to…like him? That's something she certainly can't afford to do.

"Elle? Hey, are you okay? You're quiet. If there's something wrong, tell me." Six snaps her out of her thoughts and as usual, he noticed that her mind was elsewhere. He always notices.

She hums, quietly shaking her head as her lips curve into a small smile for him. "No, there's nothing wrong. I was just thinking about things. I mean, are you going to be okay with…sharing?"

His lips stretch into a light smile as he chuckles through his nose. "Of course, I'm okay with it. I suggested it. And even if I didn't, it's what you want and I will do whatever you want." he tells her, no—he swears to her. He'd do anything for her, more than he should.

"Sounds romantic. You know, you haven't even taken me on a date yet." Elle teases him with a smile, but it's not like there was any time for them to even go out. She was mostly busy and he doesn't go outside without her.

Six's lips grow into a wider smile that he's never shown anyone else as he comes up to get his face closer to hers and plants a soft kiss on her cheek before his cheek touches her while his mouth is near her ear. "After the mission. You pick the place. Then maybe, if you're still up for it, we could talk to Lloyd about all this." he whispers in her ears in a hoarse voice and gentle tone.

She nods, her smile turning into a small smirk. "Hmm, great plan. And I think we should—"

Her voice gets cut off by the loud sound of the elevator opening and she doesn't even bother to get off Six's lap as Lloyd walks out of the elevator mindlessly, without even looking at them while he steps into the living room.

He looks tense. Because he is.

Elle smiles up at him. "Lloyd. We've been waiting for you." she says with excitement as he stops to stand in front of her and behind Six, frowning with confusion and frustration while his eyes examine their position.

Lloyd cocks his head to the side, still frowning. "Get off his lap. Your first mission is here." he orders her.

She rolls her eyes. "I actually like this position very much." she retorts.

"Don't make me get you off myself." he warns her.

"Oh, please. You won't even be able to. I'm stronger than you." Elle taunts him as he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Six sighs. Sometimes he wishes that they'd fuck each other just to finally stop arguing every single second of the day because it seems to him that the only reason that they fight is because they haven't fucked yet.

"Guys, come on. Lloyd, what is it?" Six asks, his head turning to him.

Lloyd looks at him, avoiding her gaze. "Her first mission, today. With you. It's simple. Extract data and destroy. That's it." he declares.

She frowns. "What's the data?" she asks, slowly getting off Six's lap and Lloyd finally glances down at her, his eyes boring into hers. He's slightly relieved that she got off his lap because he was…distracted by the view.

"CIA data," he replies shortly.

"What kind of data?" she repeats.

"The one that could put all of us in very deep shit. A corporate American building here has data about all of us in Jakarta. They've been spying on us this whole time, everytime we got out of the penthouse. They even have pictures of you and us in your house." Lloyd explains.

Elle widens her eyes, immediately rising up from the couch. "What? How? Why would they even want it?" she starts to panic.

He sighs, tired of having to explain everything to her. "Because we're CIA. That's it. They'll usually sell the information to people who would actually do something about it."

She hums confusedly. "Do I kill the person…?" she asks, unsurely.

She doesn't want to kill anyone if it's not a life or death situation. If it's just for a mission and that person isn't even dangerous to the people or to the city, then she won't do it. She's not ready to just kill and kill aimlessly without even caring who she's killing. She's not an assassin. Even though, deep down inside her, she knows that someday she's going to have to forget who she is and just do the damn job, however brutal it is.

Lloyd shakes his head. "Unfortunately, no. He's useless. Just a fucking idiot behind a desk. Well, idiots, technically." he replies.

Six simply nods, knowing that these kinds of things happen all the time whenever a CIA agent stays in one country for more than a week. He's had a lot of experience with it and always has had to fix it himself. It's an easy mission if there's no collateral damage or a certain obstacle.

"When do we go?" he asks him.

"Wheels up at 6pm. It'll close soon at that time. Less workers, less obstacles. Just get in there, pretend to work there. We'll give you their office card with fake names." Lloyd tells them as she nods.

Elle's eyes dart to Six, who is calm and unfazed. Not even a single spike in his heartbeat. It doesn't bother her that he's always so calm, but sometimes she wishes that he'd let himself feel normal feelings once in a while. She knows that it's not exactly his choice, he was trained to be that way. But he still has free will, technically. He just needs to be reminded of that sometimes.

Six gets up from the couch, "I'm going to start prepping." he simply says, looking into her eyes for approval.

She subtly nods before he plants a soft kiss on her temple and starts walking past her and Lloyd.

"It's chaotic down there. Good luck." Lloyd tells him as a warning.

Six's lips form a thin line, nodding at him as he walks towards the elevator.

Lloyd's eyes dart to hers and his gaze darkens. "Hey. You remember your training, right? Or should we do a quick training right now?" he asks her in a serious tone.

She shakes her head. "No, absolutely not. I need to preserve my powers, anyway."

He frowns. "Oh. Was I too rough with you?" he asks in a serious tone.

Elle gulps. "Uh, yes." she truthfully answers.

Lloyd frowns deeper. "But you could take it." he coldly says as he steps closer to her, "You're strong. You could withstand anything, right?"

She slowly nods her head, gulping again as she could feel the tension between them getting thick. Her eyes glare up at him and she has to force herself to keep up the eye contact since he's looking at her too intensely. "Yeah. I could. But as you said hundreds of times, I'm only human. I can still get tired."

"But you have a different stamina than a normal human being—" he states before taking a sharp breath and she could tell that he's annoyed. "Don't fuck with me, Elle. You are strong. You took every punch, every kick, every bullet and every stab like a fucking champ. Now, do you remember what I trained you or do you need some reminder?" Lloyd softens his voice but it's still laced with anger, he's just trying to contain himself.

Elle huffs. "Don't talk to me like that. It's fucking weird. And yes, I do remember. No, I do not need any reminder from you. Now if you'd excuse me, I'm going to…prep for the mission as well. Whatever that means." she says, walking past him.

He scoffs. She ignores him and walks to the elevator to go to Six. He's her comfort. She doesn't want to handle Lloyd right now. She needs to just focus on the mission.

***

The mission is simple and easy, Six said. So she believes him. As always.

She'll believe him, no matter what. Even if what he's saying is a lie or not. Because she trusts him blindly. That's what she does when she cares about someone deeply — she'd do anything for them. She'd even go head first into danger for them.

"Elle, do you copy?" She hears Lloyd's formal voice through her earpiece as she and Six walk towards the building.

It's not a big building. It's medium. It only has three floors and their data is on the top floor. They're both wearing professional work clothes. Six is wearing a suit. Elle is wearing a matching blouse and blazer.

She presses her comms and turns it on. "Yes. It's me. I'm here." she responds.

Lloyd leans back on his chair in front of the big monitors, tracking quite literally everything but mostly surveillance cameras that show the outside of the building, the street they're in and inside the building as well. He can see everything from here. Even them.

"You're supposed to say, "this is Elle, copy", didn't Six tell you this? It's standard protocol." he protests.

She rolls her eyes. "You know who I am already. I'm not talking to another CIA agent, am I?" she retorts.

Lloyd huffs. "Can you not? This is a serious mission. Don't talk back right now."

"I'll be taking this mission seriously when you stop complaining about every single thing I'm doing." Elle says.

"I was correcting you. That's what usually happens when someone makes a fucking mistake." he retorts back.

Six clears his throat as he stops in front of the entrance or the building. "Guys. We're here." he announces.

She nods, standing beside him. "Alright. Now what?" she asks.

"Tell them you forgot something upstairs and that you're new. After that, get to the top floor no matter what." Lloyd tells them through their comms.

"Alright. I'm hanging up." Elle tells him, her fingers touching the comms on her ear.

"No, you don't hang up on—" Lloyd's voice gets cut off as she turns off her comms but Six still keeps it on.

"Hey, Six, tell her that she's not supposed to turn off comms during missions." he says through Six's comms.

He looks at her and she shakes her head. "I need to focus." she whispers before walking ahead towards the entrance of the building as he follows her from behind, as usual.

"She needs to focus, Lloyd." Six mutters under his breath as he slightly looks down and he could hear Lloyd grunt in response.

As they're approaching the entrance, a few security guards open the door for them without any questions asked.

Once they're in, Six walks beside her and their eyes immediately examine the inside of the building. It's almost an empty lobby with only one receptionist behind the desk and a few people exiting the elevator.

"Keep your head low, Elle. These people can't suspect us right now." Six whispers into her ear as they walk towards one of the elevators.

She nods subtly while waiting for all of the people to finish walking out of it and when it's all empty, they enter the elevator together and he immediately presses the close button along with the level of the floor they're going to.

Elle turns her comms on again. "We're almost in. What are we looking for again?" she asks, just to confirm.

Lloyd sighs through their comms. "It's supposed to be a hard drive. That's usually how important data is kept but we could be wrong. It could be anywhere. Look for it and then destroy it, no matter what, okay? Do you understand me, Elle? This is your first mission, anything could go wrong." he tells her.

She rolls her eyes. "Nothing is going to go wrong because it's an easy mission. And yes, I do understand what I have to do."

"Great. Because if something goes wrong, Denny would want you out of this mission and this country. He'd send you the states, drag you there if he has to and then you'd work for the agency, where you can't do whatever the fuck you want." he warns her.

She gulps, her eyes glancing at Six's eyes and he slowly nods, assuring her that that wouldn't happen, that this mission would be easy like he said earlier. So she trusts him and she goes back to being calm and composed again.

She clears her throat. "Yeah, okay. I can do this, Lloyd. I understand your orders."

"Good. That's more like it. I prefer it better when you're obeying me." Lloyd admits.

She breaks into a soft chuckle. "Yeah. Makes things easier when I don't put up a fight with you, right?"

He nods to himself. "Exactly." he agrees.

The elevator dings and her eyes are immediately fixed on it as it slowly opens while she lunges forward to it.

"We're here." Elle announces to him.

"Okay, talk me into whatever you'll be doing. The cameras won't be working once you get to the storage room. Use the card to get in there." Lloyd orders them.

"Mhm. Got it." she replies quickly before getting out of the elevator with Six behind her.

***

This office is like a maze for her. And she hates mazes.

They've been walking around the top floor of this office for almost more than twenty minutes. They had to check every single room to make sure there aren't anyone here anymore and that the data isn't stored anywhere there.

But after double checking everything, they could finally go to the storage room and destroy the data and get out of here.

They have a date to go to after this.

Six always lets her walk in front of him so he could steer clear of her surroundings because the most dangerous threats always come from behind as he's learned that from his own experience.

As they're walking to the only storage room right in the corner from a narrowed and small hallway, she moves to walk beside him instead and he immediately looks behind them.

"Hey, so I was thinking…we could just stay at the penthouse for our date? I could decorate the living room and order in and then we could watch your favorite movie, whatever it is." Elle suggests with an amused smile on her lips.

Six stops walking because they've arrived in front of the door. He looks at her, regarding with a confused but acceptable look. "Oh. If that's what you want, I'm fine with it. I don't have a favorite movie, though."

She chuckles. "We'll find you one."

"We?" he asks.

She nods. "Yeah. Well, if you don't mind, we could do it with Lloyd? So we could talk about the…thing. I just think it'll be way easier. Plus, it's a busy night in Jakarta right now. It'll be impossible to find an empty table in a nice and quiet restaurant."

"Alright, then. We'll do that." he steps closer to her, taking both of her hands in his softly, "Whatever you want, we'll do it. You're the boss."

She laughs and scrunches her nose, shaking her head. "No, I'm not."

He tries to hide a smile coming off of his lips. "Yes, you are. You're in charge. And even later if we're with Lloyd, you'll be calling the shots when we're together."

Elle scoffs. "Yeah, as if he would ever listen to my orders. He only ever wants to listen to his own orders."

Six quietly snorts. "We'll talk about it later. We got some data to destroy." he tells her.

She smiles up at him. "Yeah, let's just get this over with."

He steps forward to the door and scans his card against the card reader until it makes an accepting beeping sound as he opens the door wide enough for her to come inside too.

She steps inside first and then him while he closes the door behind them.

Their eyes wander around the large and spacious room that's stacked with tall racks filled with tons of data of whatever they keep in here. It'd take a lot of time to find their specific wanted data.

She sighs, turning on her comms. "We're in. But the storage room is really…big. There's way too much data in here. If we go in looking for it, it's going to take hours and maybe until the office closes and locks us in here."

Lloyd exhales. "Are you fucking kidding me? Right, then, we'll just…wait, hold on a second. I'm communicating with Denny as well on the other comms." he tells her as Six just stands quietly, waiting for his next orders as usual.

She hums softly in response before looking at him. He seems so calm while she's not. She really doesn't want to spend her entire night here just trying to look for this stupid data for the CIA. She knows this is just the first mission but she was expecting something…heroic. That would mean something to her. Or to anyone, really. Now, it just feels like she's a little pawn doing the agency's bidding whenever they want her to.

Six already knows he's their pawn. Ever since they recruited him from prison, he knew. But this was his only way out of jail for the rest of his life, that's why he took it.

Lloyd clears his throat after a few seconds. "Okay, I've got direct orders from Denny. Elle, blow up the whole floor. Don't leave anything left. You've been cleared for collateral, too. Go loud, he said."

She swallows thickly. "Oh. The whole floor? A-are you sure? I mean, shouldn't we just like, I don't know—"

He cuts her off. "You have no other choice, Elle. There aren't any. Just do it. Get it over with. Then you could come back here and do whatever you want." he harshly tells her.

She huffs, her eyes immediately searching for Six's eyes and she's trying to ask for his guidance so he could tell her what to do, the right thing to do.

Six nods gently at her. "He's right. Do it." He simply says as if he's a machine designed for the CIA and not a human. He switched to it earlier once they entered this room. He needed to be professional and compartmentalize again for work.

She frowns at him. He's different and she knows it. She never thought that he'd ever change like this. He's…cold and indifferent and it scares her a little bit since she's not used to changes. She knows it's because he's working now that's why he's changing but seeing him like this makes her question him, if it's going to be like this every mission. Because then, who could she depend on when he's uncaring like this even towards her?

Elle takes a sharp inhale, blinking as she bites her bottom lip anxiously. "Okay, fine. I'll do it." she finally says and she could hear Lloyd's sigh of relief.

"Good. Let me know when you're done." Lloyd shortly tells her and she hums in response, walking away from the room with Six following her from behind without a word.

They exit the room and he closes the door shut. He lets himself look at her for a brief moment. He can sense that she's disappointed in his change but he can't do anything about it. It's his job. This is how he is every time he's on missions. He can't just change how he is. He'd be fucked and so will the missions.

"You could've given me a heads-up, you know. If you were going to be so different like this. I deserve a warning." Elle snaps, not even looking back at him as she's fueled with anger and fear.

She's just scared. Terrified. She thought that she could depend on him on all these missions so she doesn't feel like she's doing it alone because she hates being alone and it scares her. A lot.

Six doesn't even blink or anything. He just continues on walking calmly. In truth, he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't have the right words for her to comfort her or tell her he's sorry. Because he's not. He can't feel that guilt he's supposed to feel. He's just a little upset that it upsets her. He doesn't like seeing her upset, that's it. He wasn't trained to apologize for how he is. He is what he is and he can never change it, no matter what.

"Let's just blow up this building and leave. We could talk about that later." he coldly says.

She sighs, stopping in front of the boss's office and this is where she's supposed to blow up this whole floor because it's the center of it. But instead of readying her powers, she turns around to him with a scowl on her face.

"No. We're going to talk about this now," her voice slightly cracks, "Why are you acting so different? I've never seen you like this before. I mean, why? You could even barely look at me." Elle confronts him as she points a finger at him.

He's looking away from her, trying really hard to stay calm and uncompromised despite her demanding answers from him. "Elle. Just stop. Let's not do this now." Six shortly says.

"Yeah, I agree, guys. You could fight more back in the penthouse. Maybe even in the bedroom, but I could care less about that right now. So, can you just hurry it up and blow up the fucking building?" Lloyd interjects through both of their comms.

Of course they forgot to turn it off and he's been listening to their conversation this whole time.

She frowns again and blinks as she clears her throat. "Fine, I was just about to, anyway. Jeez." Elle scoffs before walking ahead of Six and standing in front of him to protect him from the explosion later on. She's creating the fire so it won't affect her at all.

She raises her hand and slowly inhales her breath, focusing on this building but suddenly her focus drifts. She hears a distinct sound. A really muffled one. But it's there. She focuses on the sound and tries to listen closely to it as she closes her eyes to focus better.

"Mommy? Daddy? Where are you?" She hears a little girl's voice from afar. But she's still on this floor. She's here. They must've missed a spot earlier when they were checking all the offices here.

Elle immediately opens her eyes and widens it. "A child. There's a child here. We need to find her first and get her far away from here." she tells Six and Lloyd.

"No. Absolutely not. We don't have time for that. Elle, you've already been cleared for collateral. So just do your damn job." Lloyd orders.

Like he would ever give a shit about a child. He doesn't even care about anyone that doesn't concern him.

She shakes her head, turning to Six. "I'm not killing a child! I'm not doing it. I didn't sign up for this shit." she raises her voice at him as panic is laced in her tone.

Six hushes her softly, his hand slowly reaching out to her arm before slowly turning off his comms in his ears. "Elle, be quiet. We'll solve this. Together." he whispers.

She sighs in relief as she nods, turning off her comms as well.

"You want to help? Are you sure?" Elle asks him for reassurance.

Six nods, his facial expressions immediately changing and turning into more relaxed and more of himself now. He's had missions like this before where he has to postpone it for a while just because he sees a child or a civilian around. He does kill people for a living but only the bad ones, the ones who deserve to die and are hurting innocents along the way so there was no point in them living anyway. He's always thought of it like that. He has a complicated moral compass but at least he still has it. Most assassins don't.

"I am. I'm not going to let a kid die either. So, let's find her first and then get her out of here, okay?" he says to her softly with both of his hands holding her arms.

Elle nods, her lips slowly curving into a small smile. She could tell that something in him switched him back to himself again after hearing that there's a child here and she knows that he doesn't like collateral damage when on missions. He tries his best to always make sure that there's no collateral at all. But sometimes, there will always be, no matter how hard he tries.

Except for this. This is an easy and quiet mission so rescuing the kid shouldn't be hard. But he knows that Lloyd is going to give him and her a really long lecture about disobeying orders, especially from the chief. They're both screwed later but if it means they get to save a child's life, then so be it.

Besides, Six knows that Lloyd will excuse them just this once and not tell Denny anything about this. It's her first mission and all that. That and the fact that he has a soft spot for her, deep inside. Six sees it. Especially after last week when she got hurt, he could see how he was actually worried but he was trying to hide it as much as he could even though Six could see concern written all over his face since he's good at reading people.

"I think I hear her footsteps. Let's follow it." she tells him before she takes his hand and guides him to where she hears the little girl's sound.

***

Lloyd is so fucking pissed right now that he can't even put it into words.

Six turned off his comms. Elle did, too.

And he hasn't heard anything from the agents nearby the building about any explosions yet, that means they haven't done their job.

He knows what this is about. She told him that there was a child earlier but he told her that she was clear for collateral. It's not like it was up to him. Lloyd doesn't call the shots. Denny does. And he's the one who doesn't give a damn if a child dies or not. He just thinks it's collateral damage and it happens all the time.

It's true, collateral does happen all the time. But it's not like this is a critical mission. This is just a simple one. It should've been allowed to just save one single child and keep her out of danger. But apparently the CIA's data is much more valuable for him than a child's life.

Sometimes Lloyd wishes that he isn't his friend. But it's too late to undo that. He's already roped into all this shit long ago and he knows there's no going back.

"Sir, what do you want us to do now?" One of the IT support asks him while he's still sitting on his huge chair in front of all the monitors.

"I don't fucking know! It's been mintues that they've been radio silent and instead of asking me what should you do, maybe try accessing the fucking security cameras on the top floor?" Lloyd snaps.

He nods. "Right. On it, sir."

He rolls his eyes before downing a glass of his whiskey and placing the now empty glass on a small table beside him. He should've come with them earlier. It won't go sideways like this if he's with them right now.

And now, he just has to wait. The thing he hates the most. But as of right now, it's the only thing he can do.

He needs to wait for them until she blows up the building and comes back to the penthouse so he could have a talk with her.

***

"Small creature? Are you there? I'm friendly!" Elle softly tells the child who's hiding behind a chair in one of the offices here.

They finally found her after searching for a few minutes but Elle told Six that they have to approach her gently since she's scared and alone.

Slowly, the little girl comes out of her hiding spot and runs to Elle. She's about four or five years old. She almost looks like her. Maybe she's a mixed kid as well. They even have the same hair. Curly and a little brunette.

The girl looks up at Elle while hugging a pink teddy bear tight against her arms. "Do you know where my mommy and daddy are?" she asks.

Elle nods, looking down at her as she smiles. "Yeap. They're right downstairs. Let's go there now."

Her tiny hands hold Elle's as she looks at Six and quickly hides beside her. "Who is this scary man?" she softly asks.

The tattoos must've startled her. It does scare some people usually. Or the broad and tall figure of his, as well.

She chuckles, glancing over at Six as she kneels down to reach her level. "Okay, this is my friend. He's very nice. In fact, he's going to give you some candy if you come with him to go downstairs." she tells the kid, convincingly.

The girl immediately smiles and nods. "Okay!" she exclaims before walking to Six and putting her small hands into his large ones but he's too focused on looking at her, admiring her on how good she is with kids and she can get along with any of them so easily.

It is a little sad that she could never have her own.

Elle looks at him, her lips tugging into a small smile before planting a soft kiss on his cheek and leaning closer to his ear. "Bring her down to the lobby and then meet me at the car after I'm done with it, okay?" she whispers in his ears as she rests her palm on his cheek.

Six nods. "Got it. Good luck." he whispers back to her ears and she backs away from him, looking down at the girl and smiling widely at her.

"Be good, okay?" Elle tells her as she quickly nods her small tiny head and pulls his hand to go forward while she chuckles at the kid's action and so does Six.

He turns around to go in the right direction and the little one just follows him. He steals one last glance to look at Elle for a second before his hand gets pulled again to walk faster.

He's not very good with children, the only close interaction he's ever had with a child is probably with Fitzroy's niece, back in Hong Kong but that was two years ago and he's never seen her again. So this is new for him, especially after seeing Elle being so good with a child and getting along with them easily. He knows that she wants that kind of future where there's children in it but he also knows about her condition that doesn't allow her to have them. She told him last week and he hasn't forgotten about it ever since.

He feels bad for her because she'd make a really good mom. He just knows she would.

Six leads the little girl towards the elevator and presses a button to go downstairs as it immediately opens because this office is nearly empty. He lets her go in first with him following her from behind while the elevator closes behind them once they're fully inside.

Once Elle hears the elevator closes from afar, she immediately turns on her comms again to communicate with Lloyd again. She just hopes he isn't that mad.

Elle clears her throat, "Hey. So I'm about to blow up the building and was wondering where to escape? Because I was thinking about jumping off the building but that would take too much energy so if I—"

Lloyd cuts her off. "What the hell have you been doing this whole fucking time? And where's Six?" he asks her, yelling in her ears as she grimaces at the impact of his voice.

"Relax, jeez. I'm literally just about to do it now. And he's downstairs, dropping off the child safely." she responds.

He rolls his eyes. "You dragged him into your mess. Denny has been asking me countless times on why the building hasn't blown up yet. I had to tell him that there's been an interference with our comms. Six has never been known to fail a mission and if he failed this easy one just because of you—"

She frowns. "I haven't failed this mission. I am about to do it, I just postponed it a few seconds." she defends.

Lloyd scoffs. "A few seconds? It's been more than ten minutes. You were supposed to follow your orders immediately. You weren't supposed to postpone it." He scolds her.

She rolls her eyes, sighing. "Fine. You can lecture me about it all you want once we're back home but now, I gotta know where to escape."

He exhales deeply, his fingers brushing his stache as he looks over at the blueprint map of the office she's in from one of the huge monitors in front of him. "There's an exit back door to your right that leads to some alley. You'll be safe there." Lloyd finally says.

Elle hums in response, raising her hand again and inhales a sharp breath as she feels all the energy inside the building before chanting a quick spell of her own and it blows up immediately, blasting everything inside as she runs through all the fire as quickly as she could even though everything is dark for her but she's trying to use her heightened senses.

Her hand finally reaches a door handle and quickly opens it as she throws herself inside of it. She coughs a little from the damage and turns on her comms again, if it's working. "Lloyd? Six?" She tries but there's no answer. The signal died the moment the explosion started. She should've known that but this is her first time ever doing this.

She stands up from where she was and looks at everything but it's all dark again. She knows that there are stairs here but she can't see anything. She can't just run down these stairs for four floors blindly. She does have heightened senses but it's literally pitch black and she can't hear anything because of the explosion.

She lets her hands touch the wall beside her and she immediately gets an idea. It might be a bad one, but it's the only good one to get out of here now.

She clenches her fist and starts hitting the wall with her bare hands as hard as she can and it crumbles with one try. She gasps at that, she's never seen how really strong she could be.

She punches the wall again until it finally breaks even bigger and it's big enough for her to fit into it. She looks at it and it's pretty high from here to the ground but it's her only choice right now. She knows she'll survive the fall but she's never done this before and she's a little…scared — she's actually scared of heights, it has been like that since she was little.

"Come on, just do it." Elle mutters to herself, trying to encourage herself to just jump off this fucking building and stop being scared. This is what it takes to be working for the CIA. She knows it. Now she does, at least.

She closes her eyes shut and takes her feet off of the ledge and just jumps her whole body down.

She could hear outside now. The cars, the motorcycles, the people. She knows where she'll land now, that alley which Lloyd told her to go to. She just hopes she won't land on someone's car or on someone. She focuses on all the sounds she's hearing

She can hear everything as her body falls onto the ground, hard.

She groans, finally opening her eyes and squinting it as she tries to get up but everything hurts now. Her whole body hurts. She's laying down flat on the ground without being able to move at all. She doesn't understand what's happening. She thought she was invincible to everything. Maybe her body isn't used to being thrown to the ground yet. This is all new for her and her body.

"Elle? Are you okay? Can you hear me?" Six's voice appears from behind her and her eyes look up at him, upside down.

"I didn't know that you'd be here, I thought that…fuck, it hurts." She winces at the pain and he immediately squats down, carrying her in his arms, bridal-style. She leans her head on his chest and breathes deeply. He's carrying her like she's practically nothing.

"What happened?" he asks her, softly as his eyes look down on hers.

"I miscalculated. I thought that I could just go downstairs after the blast but I blasted too much and it was all dark. I should've just blown it up from here, with my mind. Would've been way easier." Elle explains to him, weakly.

"Okay. Let's just go back and you'll feel better there. The car's right here." Six tells her, gesturing his head towards the car beside them, the same one that took them here earlier. There's a local driver in it and he was paid to be quiet and not ask questions.

She nods slowly as he brings them to the car and he gently places her in it as delicately as possible before he gets in the car as well.

***

Lloyd has been eyeing the elevator as it finally opens and Six and Elle walk out of it but she's… hurt.

They're on the first floor of the penthouse because they knew that he'd still be here. All the field agents and IT support are all in here too, staring at them.

She has her arm around his shoulder for support and he's got his arm wrapped around her waist as she leans all of her weight against him.

Lloyd rushes to them immediately and frowns. "What happened? You look like hell." he asks.

Elle sighs. "I made a mistake. I calculated wrong. The blast that I created was too big for me to escape in time. So I had to jump out of the building." she tells him as her eyes dart to his and he's a little worried but he's still angry. Very angry.

He exhales, trying to contain his anger because he can't just yell at her when she's all hurt, it's like kicking a wounded puppy and even he still has a little bit of empathy left in him. "Jesus. Alright, bring her upstairs to the living room. I'm calling a doctor from the nearest hospital here. You just stay there and don't fucking move." he tells them, walking to the elevator.

"Okay." she softly says and he almost feels bad for what he's about to say to her after all this but he needs to say what he needs to say. She needs to hear it or she'll never learn, like ever.

Six and her follow him from behind and they all enter the elevator again as Lloyd presses the up button.

He glances at her from the side and he wishes he could say something now but he knows that he should just keep his mouth shut for now.

He examines her body closer and it's all dirty and dusty from the explosion but he doesn't see any blood on her or any injury. He's a little bit relieved so at least he doesn't need to spend his time worrying about her just like last week when she was shot and almost kidnapped by some idiots — he handled those idiots already, by himself, but he hasn't told Six or her yet.

The elevator dings and it opens by itself as Lloyd lets her step out of it first with Six still helping her walk.

She sighs in relief as she steps her foot on the penthouse's floor. She's happy to be back home and safe.

***

Elle lies down on the couch with a woman doctor sitting beside her, checking all her vitals while she applies an IV on her.

Lloyd and Six are standing in front of her, both crossing their arms against their chest as they observe her. They've been like this ever since the doctor arrived.

In truth, they're both equally worried for her well being. They don't like seeing her hurt or vulnerable like this. She's supposed to be strong and powerful and invincible. If she keeps getting hurt like this, then they'd have to worry more about her than about the missions. They always thought that they didn't have to worry about her like this because they always thought that she could take it.

But again, she's still human. She can still get hurt anytime, no matter what.

"How is she, doctor?" Lloyd asks, concernedly.

The doctor focuses on her file. "Well, her vitals are completely fine, surprisingly. She just needs a little fluid. Maybe some painkillers for the pain, too. She said she was experiencing some pain but I don't see where it's from. There are no injuries or any wounds. You said she fell, earlier? From where?" She asks back, looking at him.

Elle gulps, looking at Lloyd for help. She doesn't usually lie to doctors. She always tells the truth because she thinks that they'll figure out the truth anyway and it's just impossible to lie to them.

Lloyd steps forward to the doctor. "Doctor, I'm paying you ten times more than your usual fees so I'd say that's enough for you to not ask questions about anything and just do your job." he tells her.

The doctor slowly nods, turning to her. "Right. Well, I'm going to give you some painkillers, is that okay?" she asks her.

Elle shakes her head. "No, I'm good. I mean, I'll be fine. I don't think that…I need those pills. I–I can heal naturally, right? Yeah. I don't need those. I'll feel better in a minute." she tells the doctor as she faintly smiles.

She can't get her hands on those pills again. Not again. She'd rather suffer pain than getting addicted to those fucking pills again. Plus, she promised Six. She knows that once she has them again, she won't stop.

"Okay, then. I'll leave you to rest. Take the IV off when it's finished and contact me if you still feel any pain." The doctor tells her, standing up from the couch as she gets her stuff.

She nods. "Thank you, doctor." she says politely, giving her a weak smile.

Lloyd walks to her. "Let me escort you out, doctor." he formally says as they both walk out of the living room towards the elevator.

Elle softly groans, leaning her head back onto the couch as she looks over to Six who's still standing still there. "Come here, please," she whispers weakly to him in a pleading tone.

He immediately walks over to her and sits beside her. "How are you feeling?" he asks her, his hand reaching out to her arm as his eyes search for her and their eyes finally meet.

She relaxes and smiles up at him. "Better now." she murmurs softly.

"Do you want to take a bath? I can help you with that, if you want." Six offers her as his hand slowly brushes the side of her face while his thumb strokes her cheek.

Elle pouts a little, scrunching her nose as she shakes her head. "No, I'll just have a shower. I need to try to move my muscles so I can heal quicker. I think my body was just in shock when I fell from that building earlier. It's not used to being thrown that high." she tells him.

"Okay, then. I need to go downstairs to do a little debrief with Denny, as usual."

"Is he going to ask anything about me?"

He frowns. "No, nothing like that. Just a lot of questions after questions and then I'd have to make a quick summary about what the mission was like. But he won't ask anything about you or ask anything to you. It's your first time." Six assures her.

She sighs in relief. "Great. Okay. That's good. Um, I do need help getting up, though." Elle admits as she gives him an innocent smile.

He chuckles quietly as he nods. "Come here, let me help you," he says softly, holding both of her hands before lifting her upper body up and she sits up from the couch.

They both look into each other's eyes and realize that they're so close, their faces are almost touching and their lips are an inch apart from each other. This has been the closest they've been after this whole week of not touching each other. It's not that they didn't want to because they did, they really did. They have so much desire for each other. It's a lot. And it's undeniable, no matter how hard they try to hide it.

She swallows thickly. "Hey, so, I know we haven't really slept together this past week because of training but now that that's over, can I sleep in your room tonight?" she asks him.

Six tucks her hair under her ear and nods. "Of course." he softly says as his lips slowly tug into a small smile.

She smiles again. "Okay. See you in bed then." Elle says, getting excited for tonight and she completely forgot that she was in pain. It's really that easy to distract her.

They both say nothing as they retreat from each other and he helps her to stand up from the couch, walking her to her room as well.

***

Finally, she is cleaned up, well rested and fully healed.

She's showered, changed into clean clothes and she's already feeling better due to the IV.

And now she's extremely starving while looking for food in the fridge that desperately needs to be stocked again.

She's the only one who does the grocery shopping around here. If she just misses even a day of not doing it, the boys are going to complain to her because of the lack of food. It's not even her job but it has become part of her life now.

After a few minutes of searching for some food that's quick to eat and doesn't require to be cooked, she takes them with her to the kitchen island as she proceeds to eat her food there.

She's got strawberry and mango yogurt, some pasta leftovers from domino's, a bowl of watermelon, a bag of cold chips and some leftover pastry from the local coffee shop downstairs. And she's drinking a liter of water. She needs to keep being hydrated so her body stays healthy and healed.

They order a lot of take outs for most nights and Lloyd usually orders too much of it and it ends up being another leftover in the fridge.

Right now, as she’s eating, she’s too lazy to listen in on everyone downstairs and way too focused on her food. She knows Six is still downstairs doing some stupid debrief that is only wasting his time to rest and clean up. She doesn’t know where Lloyd is though. Probably still downstairs as well, accompanying Six, as usual. Those two have quickly become besties now, always telling each other literally everything.

She wonders how they ever got along, though. Because she knows that they didn’t meet each other up until this mission, only heard stories of each other from other people in the agency. And when they had to do this mission together, they didn’t exactly like each other since they both never had any partners in their line of work. They’ve always worked alone. They weren’t used to partners or even friends.

But this mission has really brought them along and well, her as well. They both have only one thing in common, they both want her and are willing to do for her and her safety.

“Mmm. So good.” She mutters to herself, mouth full with the food as she enjoys it before she has to handle Lloyd. She knows what’s coming. He was just waiting for her to heal and clean up to finally lash his anger out on her.

Ugh. What a headache.

She just wants to lay down and sleep forever. She’s a little tired, she’ll admit. She did just blow up a whole building and jump from the tall building and is still alive until now. She used a lot of her energy. But thanks to food and IV, she’s not that tired anymore.

But thinking of Lloyd about to yell at her face again, she just lost her appetite as she looks down at all her food that’s almost half finished already. She might not have super speed, but she sure does eat really fast. And that way, she gets full way easier.

She hops off the kitchen island stool and begins to throw away all the trash from her food to the garbage can in the kitchen. She walks to the kitchen sink and turns it on with her mind as she lets the water while she washes her hand with the soap.

After she’s done, she dries her hands with the paper towel and just as she was about to walk to the couch to relax and watch some TV, the elevator dings and opens.

Shit. I’m fucked.

Elle sighs as she hears Lloyd’s heavy footsteps coming out of the elevator and stepping in their foyer.

She frowns and sighs loudly. “Look, can we just not do this—” she tries.

He ignores her as he walks into their living room, where she’s standing. “I get it. But we’re all tired, Elle. And you need to learn a fucking lesson.” Lloyd starts.

She snorts. “Please. What am I? A child? What lesson are you trying to teach me here, Lloyd? I understood the orders and I did it. I blew up the fucking building already.” Elle defends herself.

Lloyd scoffs, shaking his head. “But you disobeyed my orders. Don’t you get it? You’re supposed to do as you’re told, no matter what. No questions asked. That’s what we all do.” he lectures her.

“Wow, it’s not like I don’t even have any more free will.” She retorts.

“Well, you asked for this. You wanted this. Don’t fucking complain for something you signed up for.” He harshly says.

She scoffs. “I never signed up to kill an innocent child! What the fuck were you thinking?” Elle raises her voice at him.

Lloyd frowns. “It wasn’t my choice! Did you think that I ever wanted that? It was a clear order. I couldn’t do anything about it.” He raises his voice back at her.

She shakes her head in disbelief. “So you would’ve killed a child anyway?” she says, lowering her voice.

He huffs. “Jesus, Elle. Would you fucking stop? The child’s not dead, right? You saved him or her. But still, you can’t just turn off your comms and ignore me and do whatever the fuck you want. It’s not how this works. You’re lucky that I didn’t tell Denny the truth about you. He’d be pissed. Just like I am with you because following orders is very important. But if he knew, he’d remove you from this mission and drag you to the states and—”

Elle gulps. “Then, why didn’t you?” she weakly asks. She’s scared to ask but she’s curious. He’d snitch on anyone else because he could care less about them but somehow, it’s different with her.

Lloyd lunges forward to her and glares down at her. “I did it for you.” He grits out. He didn’t want to admit that but she asked for it and there’s no point in hiding anything from her anyway, the girl’s a mind reader after all.

She furrows her brows and scoffs gently. “But why? I thought you didn’t care about me or anyone at all.” She asks but it comes out as a whisper because she's still in disbelief.

Lloyd takes another step forward closer to her and now they’re so close to each other as their faces are almost touching. “I do care. For you. I don’t know why but…I just do. You have no idea how much effect you have on me. If you so much as tell me to kill someone right now, I will. I’d do it in a heartbeat. In fact, I have killed for you. Remember those guys who tried to kidnap you and instead shot you and Six last week? I found their bosses and shot them all in the head at their own house, a few days ago. And I didn’t even clean it up. I just left the bodies like that. So they’d know not to mess with us again. Not to hurt you again.” He bluntly confesses.

It’s not like him to just confess what he feels but he’s cornered right now and he has no other choice but to just get it out and finally tell her the truth. She deserves the truth, anyway. Keeping her in the dark forever is just not right and he knows that.

Elle swallows thickly. She is scared but also turned on. She never expected for anyone to do that for her. But she does like it. With all the other guys she’s been with, they were too much of a coward and she’s always wanted them to do more for her. To do anything for her. And she knows it’s fucked up to want him because he killed for her but it’s not like they didn’t deserve it. They were going to kidnap her and sell her as a weapon. But still, he killed for her — not exactly right or justifiable.

“You did that…for me or for Denny? Did he ask you to—” she slowly asks him.

He cuts her off, shaking his head. “No. He didn’t. It was for your safety but…the CIA wouldn’t have sanctioned a mass murder. It was really fucking messy, Elle. There was blood and brain matter all over the place.” Lloyd casually says with a scoff.

Oh.

She gulps again. It’s how he says it so casually while talking about murder. Like he has no remorse or regret and even has a little pride for it, in which he does. He proudly did it for her and he wasn't even planning to tell her but here he is anyway.

She stays quiet, her mind going round and round in circles thinking about why he did all that just for her. She remembered Six’s words about him secretly wanting her but she just thought that meant sexually only and not in a way that he’d do quite literally anything for her. Because this is getting dangerous. He killed someone for her, just like that. She’s scared.

Lloyd sighs softly. “Say something, dammit. Your silence is weirdly scaring me. Are you…scared?” he asks, cautiously.

She looks him in the eyes. “I was just thinking. I mean, why would you do that for me? I didn’t ask for it and yeah, I guess I am a little scared of you. I’ve always been. But…this is different. You killed them for me, just like that. Like their lives didn’t mean shit to you. It does scare me.”

His lips slowly turn into a smirk. “That’s good that you’re scared of me. You should be.” He lowers his voice into a whisper.

She frowns. “Lloyd. You can’t just do that, go out and kill anyone for me. It’s reckless.” She raises her voice a little.

He scoffs. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, sweetheart. Even if I get caught, I have immunity for that because of the agency.” He pauses, staring into her eyes, “You should feel grateful. I don’t just kill for anyone. Well, except for the CIA but, you know, that’s completely different from you. I’m doing it for you because I want to. I need to see you safe and sound. And I don’t fucking know why.” Lloyd admits, truthfully.

Elle sighs softly, looking down to avoid his gaze but his hand lifts her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “What do you want from me?” she softly asks.

Lloyd furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side as he slowly smirks. “Oh, sweetheart. I want everything from you. Anything that I could take from you. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you? I’ve wanted you in every way possible. I can’t stop thinking about that night in that dingy, gross bar when I had my fingers in you and when I tasted you…”

She frowns deeper. “Lloyd, if this is one of your sick and twisted games to tease me, you better stop right now.” she warns him.

His smirk turns wider as his hand moves to her lips and his thumb strokes her bottom lips. “I’m not teasing you right now, Elle. But if you want me to…” Lloyd whispers at her face.

She slightly widens her eyes and takes his hand off of her with one try. She shakes her head as she turns around from him and walks further into their living room. “No. We can’t do this. I don’t even know why you want me and care about me so much all of a sudden when you’ve been treating me like shit this whole entire time. I just don’t fucking get it.” Elle snaps, stopping to stand in front of their floor to ceiling window that highlights the whole city of Jakarta as she turns to him.

Lloyd sighs, walking to her. “So you don’t feel the same?” he asks as he stands in front of her, seeing the night view of the city behind her head.

“That’s not what I said. Look, Six and I talked about it and we were about to propose an idea to you about…sharing me. We were about to do it after the mission but—that’s not the point I’m trying to make. It doesn’t matter if I feel the same or not. You killed someone for me, Lloyd. And then you lied about what you feel for me the entire time. That’s…toxic. If we are together, if we do this, then what does that say about us?” she asks, waving her hand between them.

Elle has always been logical with life. What’s wrong is wrong and what’s right is right. She knows killing is wrong but killing for someone else because you care for them, that’s a whole different level of wrong. And yes, it was necessary to kill them for her own safety but he only did that because he cares for her. If he didn’t, they would still be alive. She just doesn’t want to be the reason why someone’s dead. She doesn’t want to be responsible for that because she’s had her own guilt already for actually being responsible for someone’s death and it felt horrible for her. She’ll never forget what she did in that lab.

That doesn’t mean she’s justified her own actions, no. She fully knows that what she did was wrong and she still feels guilty about it but she has a feeling that Lloyd doesn’t feel guilty or thinks it’s wrong which is why it makes this toxic.

Lloyd steps forward to her and stares into her eyes. “I don’t care what it says about us. You want me and I want you. Really badly.”

Elle scoffs at his face. “You’re a sociopath. You won’t feel the same for me anymore after a while. You’ll feel bored and then you’ll forget why you were even obsessed with me in the first place. And if we’re starting it like this, with you killing for me, then I don’t want it. I’m scared. About you and all of this. It’s out of my comfort zone. I can’t do this.” She tells him as her voice slightly cracks.

He knows what he is. A sociopath. A person who doesn’t feel things like any average human being. He’s aware of it. Six and him talk about it a lot. He doesn’t want to be that person who gets bored easily with someone they care about and then just leaves them but in this situation, he can’t leave her because of the mission and all. He’s conscious about it but it doesn’t mean he’s proud of it. He hates it. He hates himself for it. He can’t change who he is but he is trying to be better even if it isn't showing.

At least he can still care about someone and would do anything for them. If he is an actual sociopath, it doesn't mean that there aren't a few people he'd kill for and even die for.

She tries to walk away but he immediately lunges forward to her and cages her in with both of his arms on the window as she’s pressed against it and he presses himself against her body. He leans into her ear, “You can’t run away from us, Elle. It’s too late for that.” Lloyd whispers in her ears.

She scowls. “Let me go.” she hisses as her breath hitches.

He looks back into her eyes. “If you wanted me to, you would’ve already done it yourself. You do want this but you’re trying too hard to avoid it. Stop fucking doing that. I’m right here and it’s only us.” he presses her.

She rolls her eyes before moving her face closer to his, staring down at his lips. “Just shut up. I don’t want to talk anymore,” she breathes out as she smashes her lips against his and kisses him as hard as she could while he deepens the kiss, roughly and she lets out a loud moan against his mouth.

Lloyd cups her face, his teeth harshly biting her bottom lips until it bleeds as she moans again, louder this time. She liked that. She likes it rough and he knows exactly how to fulfill that desire of hers without asking.

“Where do you want it? Right here? On the couch? Or in my bedroom?” he asks against her mouth as his breathing starts to get heavy while her hands move to his hips, getting lower and lower to his crotch.

She whimpers, shaking her head. “Shit. We shouldn’t be doing this. I told Six that we’d do it together—” she whines against his mouth, slowly regretting everything but she can’t say that she’s not enjoying this because she is, she really is. She’s just too ashamed to admit it. It’s her guilty pleasure.

Lloyd cuts her off. “Fuck that. I know him and he’d be okay with this. With us.” He breathes out as he brings down his hand to rest on the side of her neck.

She breathes heavily, “Fine. Fuck me right here, then.” She pants against his mouth as her eyes gesture behind her, to the huge ass window.

His eyes look down to the night view of the whole city through their clear window. Anyone could see them from down there if they fucked right here since their lights are on and the window is huge and wide enough. But it doesn't matter to them right now — nothing does, except for each other and this very moment.

He smirks at her bold response before he pulls away from her lips an inch away. “Kinky. You want to let the whole city know that you’re mine? Is that what you want?” Lloyd whispers.

She nods mindlessly. “Mhm. It is,” she whispers back, her hands moving to the front of his pants before popping open the button easily.

Lloyd grabs her hands and holds them tight between their bodies. “Eager, are we? I haven’t even gotten you ready yet.” He teases her.

She shakes her head. “I don’t need that. I can take it. I can take you.” She insists.

He releases her hands as he grabs a fistful of her hair and grips it tightly as she leans her head against the window, enjoying the pain he’s giving her. It’s not as painful as it should be for her but she can still feel it and for her, it’s more of a pleasure than pain. She’s accepted long ago that she can never feel pain like anyone else so she turned it into something better — she developed a pain kink. It turns her on when he hurts her psychically.

But Lloyd’s the first guy in her life to ever do this to her, he just knew what she wanted without her even asking him to do it and he knows that she could take it. All the other guys were too gentle. She hated it. But not with Six, that’s different. They have something entirely special together and it’s not just about sex for them, not that they’ve ever done it yet.

Lloyd leans into her ear as his free hand moves down from her breast to her stomach until it stops at her cotton shorts and he reaches down to her panties, getting inside as he feels her wet cunt. “I need to taste you, sweetheart — properly taste you. I’ve been dreaming about it ever since we met.” He whispers inside her ears and she gasps softly at the feeling of his hand inside her.

Elle lifts her tank top up and takes it off completely, throwing it onto the floor somewhere. She’s not wearing a bra since she thought that she was going to get ready for bed earlier. So this is the first time Lloyd’s seen her bare tits. Even Six hasn’t seen her fully naked yet.

He lets his eyes wander around her body and takes a second for himself to examine it. Her body is pretty fit since she’s strong and all that. But she doesn’t have abs, just an average flat stomach. She can’t seem to ever gain weight with her condition so her body will look the same all the time, no matter what. She can never grow. His eyes then drift down to her tits. He focuses on them more — her beautiful tits that he’s been fantasizing about it this whole time.

His hand releases her hair and goes down to her breasts, grasping them tightly together as she lets out a soft moan at that. His fingernails digs into her tits until it bleeds and she moans even louder at that. He swipes the blood off of her before her skin heals again and he licks the blood from his fingers while she watches him do that. She’s having a little déjà vu when they were back at that bar and he was licking her cum off of his fingers.

And now she has a blood kink.

“I know that you’ve seen my ass naked. Six told me.” She breathes out. She can barely think right now and this is what comes out of her mouth.

Lloyd’s eyes look up at her. “Really? Well, what can I say? You have an amazing ass and that was a great view…” he comments.

She rolls her eyes, smirking. “Asshole.”

He gets even closer to her face. “But it turns you on anyway. I turn you on, Elle. Remember that.” He retorts as he takes her shorts off, leaving her with only her panties on.

Her smirk turns wider. "And I make you hard every single day, Hansen.” She retorts back as she moves her hands to rest on his chest before she rips his expensive polo shirt off easily with both of her hands, revealing his big and muscular body.

She takes a moment to let her eyes observe his shirtless body. There’s some tattoos on his chest that she certainly wasn’t expecting to see. His six-pact abs are really fucking perfect and she could drool just by the sight of this. She didn’t know that he was so fit under all those ridiculous fancy shirts of his. She forgot that he also had a lot of training and he does missions that requires fighting as well, like Six. She's not exactly surprised, she knew that he was packing underneath, but her hatred for him wanted to make her forget that she finds him sexy.

He’s not even mad that she ruined his $300 polo shirt that he brought from this country, it was way more expensive here because it was imported from the country he used to buy it in, which pissed him off so much . But he just got even more hard. If she was any other girl, he would’ve gotten mad and immediately left her. But she's not any other girl he's been with — she's way more important to him than some stupid shirt that he could buy again and again.

Lloyd scoffs at that, looking down at his ruined shirt before his eyes dart to hers again, his gaze darkens. He holds her neck and grips it harshly as she smirks again. “Guess we both have an addiction for each other, huh?” he whispers.

She nods her head against the window. “Take your pants off, Lloyd. Or else I’ll rip it off too.” She lightly threatens him with that knowing innocent smile of hers.

He shakes his head. "Not yet. I said I wanted to taste you first, right?” He reminds her before covering her mouth with his, kissing her deeper than earlier as his teeth bites into her lower lip again, making it bleed a lot. She moans against his mouth, leaning even closer to him but he pulls away from her, breaking the kiss.

He loves teasing her and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop. He likes seeing her reaction to it and enjoys it all the time.

She pouts as he predicted and he lets out a soft huff of a laugh. Lloyd slowly gets down on his knees, kneeling in front of her while his eyes stay on her. His fingers toy with the fabric of her panties just to tease her again.

He looks up at her. "I want you to let out those pretty sounds as much as you want, okay? Let all of them hear. I don’t care.” Lloyd tells her, softly.

She nods at him. He smirks at that. “Good girl. I like it when you’re obeying me. Not like what you did today.” He retorts.

She huffs. “I don’t want to talk about today.”

“Good. Me neither.” Lloyd agrees with her before his hands touch her inner thighs, “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” He whispers against her skin, sending goosebumps on it.

She does what she’s told, spreading her legs slowly and getting wider a little. He takes her panties off and leaves them down on her ankles. He gets his face closer to it as he swipes his tongue across her wet and glistening cunt. She throws her head back, letting out a soft gasp and moan at the same time.

Lloyd looks up at her again, wanting to see her face. “Eyes on me, Elle. You look away and I’ll stop.” He tells her as she looks down at him, her chest breathing heavily.

“Look at you. All wet just for me.” He taunts her, letting his eyes wander down her mess and she’s dripping around her legs and staining the floor, as well. She’s gonna have to clean that up later.

She lets out a breathy moan as his fingers touch her cunt before he inserts two fingers inside of her at once, making her gasp loudly at that. She could take it. He knows she can.

“You can take it,” Lloyd husks, twisting his fingers in her before adding another finger and she hits her head against the window, letting out another loud moan. “That’s it. Take it like a fucking champ,” he echoes his previous words before to her that he said today before the mission.

Ding.

She was too blind in her own pleasure to even bother to hear anything. It's one of the reasons why she likes sex so much and makes it her coping mechanism, because she could get distracted and forget everything, even if it's just for a while.

The familiar sound of the elevator announcing that it’s about to open immediately startles them. The elevator is at the far side of the living room but anyone could see the whole thing from there.

Six casually walks out of it with his eyes looked down, extremely exhausted after that long debrief with Denny in front of a laptop and then some of the field agents engaging in a conversation with him about fighting techniques and suggested weapons that he so wanted to get out of. He finally got out of it and he was ready to come back home, get ready for bed and sleep in with Elle.

He certainly was not expecting the view right in front of him now when his eyes finally look up.

She’s fully naked and Lloyd’s shirtless with his pants button open and he’s going down on her with his fingers still inside her. This is the first time he’s ever seen her naked and he wasn’t expecting it to go like this.

“Shit…” she mutters under her breath as Lloyd turns around to see Six.

Six is speechless. He’s frozen, standing still in the foyer. He’s not mad or disappointed at the both of them. He’s just really surprised. Shocked. Stunned. And maybe even a little bit turned on.

“Hey, you’re back. How was the debrief?” Lloyd casually asks him as he puts her panties back on and grabs her shorts and tank top from the floor. He helps her put her shorts on first before standing up and putting back her tank top on.

Six finally has the courage to take a step forward and proceed to walk into their living room. “Uhm, it was long and tiring.” He responds.

Elle shoots him an apologetic look as he stands beside Lloyd. “Six, I’m so sorry—”

He frowns. “What are you sorry for? I’m not mad, Elle. You know that we were about to tell him, anyway. I just wasn’t expecting you to do it yourself.” Six softly says in a gentle tone.

“I know, I’m sorry. We promised that we were going to do it together and then I just went and did it behind your back.” She apologizes again.

She has a bad habit of apologizing to people over and over again even though most of the time, it’s not her fault. She just always thinks it is hers.

Lloyd frowns. “Stop apologizing, Elle. I told you he’s okay with it and he is. Right?” he looks back at him for confirmation.

Six nods at him. “Yeah, I am. I’m the one who’s sorry for interrupting you because now it’d be awkward to continue.” He confirms.

She lets out a snort. “Yeap. It would be. Well, now that we’re all here…wanna go watch a movie and make it less awkward for all three of us?” Elle suggests.

They both nod at her. Six’s lips slowly form into a small smile. Lloyd gives her a genuine half smile. They’re both slightly a little bit content, somehow.

***

“I don’t like watching movies. It’s a waste of my time.” Lloyd grumbles as they all sit together in one of their couches, cozily in front of the TV.

She’s in the middle of them, leaning her head on Six’s shoulder and resting her legs on Lloyd’s thighs. She has her blanket from home, spread across all of them. The TV is on as she’s holding the remote control, ready to play her top favorite movie.

She giggles, shaking her head. “Well, it’s a shame. Because I’m going to make you watch my favorite movies, anyway.”

Lloyd huffs frustratedly. “Seriously? We could be doing so many other better things right now.” He continues to complain before he turns to her, slipping his hand under their blanket and placing it on her inner thighs, teasing her.

She frowns at him, but not exactly complaining of his hand placement. “Oh, come on! Just watch the damn movie.” She argues.

Six quietly chuckles, leaning his mouth into her ears. “He’s still frustrated that he didn’t get the chance to fuck you,” he softly jokes but he’s not exactly whispering.

Lloyd immediately looks at him, blinking at him offended. “At least I saw her naked first.” He retorts back, even harsher.

She shakes her head. “Stop, both of you.” She says, turning to look at both of them at once, “Look, I know we haven’t really talked about it yet, but I’m positive that this could work. We could work. I mean, there’ll still be a few things we need to work out, obviously, but we could solve all that tomorrow and the other tomorrow because we’re stuck here all together for a few months. So, let’s all just enjoy this movie and not think about other serious stuff for tonight.” Elle states with a tired smile on her lips.

She’s always been positive about everything. It’s her specialty. Even when she’s pessimistic about something, deep down, she still manages to be positive about it. She’s not actually sure that this will work. She’s even scared that it won’t, but she's tugging away that thought for now to not ruin this moment.

Six nods. Lloyd hums in response.

“We do need to set a schedule, though. About sharing…you.” Lloyd suggests.

She chuckles. “Yeah, right. Not gonna happen.”

Six lets out a soft huff of laughter before planting a long kiss on her cheek. She looks into his eyes and she leans onto him, pressing her lips against his without having to say anything, she already knew what he wanted.

Lloyd stares at them, examining closely how they kiss. Six goes really gentle on her and so does she. There’s still passion in their kiss but it’s just very…vanilla for him. When he and Elle kiss, it’s rough and harsh and kinky as the whole world suddenly stops just for them. It’s so different compared to Six and her. But it’s a good thing, she gets to have two choices. Gentle and rough.

He clears his throat, hoping to stop them from eating each other’s faces out but they’re still kissing. She lazily kisses him as he sets a really slow rhythm that she just gladly follows. They’re kissing like two teenagers who just learned how to kiss so it’s extremely slow.

Lloyd frowns, grabbing her face with both of his hands as they forcefully break their kiss. “We’re still gonna watch the movie or—” he gets cut off by Elle kissing his lips roughly, stealing the oxygen right out of his lungs and he lets out a soft moan before she pulls away from him, breaking the kiss.

Six chuckles at that. “I think we should probably watch the movie or else we’ll spend the whole night trying to steal her for a kiss,” he remarks. He’s not wrong.

She laughs softly, nodding her head. “Yep. I agree. Though, I’d still like that very much. I think it’s hot when you both try to compete to have me. We should use that for our future roleplay.” she teases him.

Lloyd rolls his eyes. “Roleplay is for weirdos,” he states.

“I know. I was joking. But, I thought that you’d be more into that considering how kinky you are.” Elle assumes. She knows he’s rough just by making out with him twice. She can also sense that he enjoys being rough as much as she does.

Six is quiet, paying close attention to this conversation that he just grew interested in. He usually doesn’t really want to hear what they both say have to each other since most of the time, they always bicker and fight and insult each other. He's just glad that he won't have to hear that shit on a daily basis anymore. If they fuck any sooner, their little fights will reduce eventually.

He snorts, squinting his eyes a little. “You think I’m kinky? Why, because of how rough I am with you?” Lloyd asks her, genuinely.

She nods. “Yeah, exactly. But I like it.”

Lloyd smirks at that. “Oh. Guess I’m not the only kinky one here. What about Six? Is he kinky?” he asks, out of pure curiosity.

She giggles, not knowing how to answer his question. Six looks at him weirdly. “Why are you asking?” he asks back.

Lloyd shrugs. “Curiosity.”

“Uhm, I guess? You know that we haven’t…so I wouldn’t really know.” She responds, clearing her throat to change the topic. “But anyway, I think that I should just sleep in my own room tonight until we figure out some things.” Elle declares to them.

He frowns. “We don’t have any problems.”

She raises her brows. “Of course we do? Lloyd, you commited mass murder for me. That’s a fucking problem. We need to talk about that, seriously. Tomorrow. I’m too tired to talk about it now.”

Six frowns confusedly, turning to him. “Wait, you did what?” he asks him.

Lloyd’s lips form a thin line. “Remember those guys who shot you and Elle and then tried to kidnap her as well? I did a bit of digging and found where they lived, a few days ago. I brought some of the agents with me who wouldn’t tell Denny and then we…got rid of them.” He explains.

Six sighs. “Lloyd. You could’ve told me first.” He protests.

He nods, agreeing with him. “I know. I’ll do that next time.” He casually says.

Elle frowns. “What? No. There won’t be a next time because you can’t be doing that anymore. I’m serious.” She scolds him.

Lloyd silently looks at Six. They both know that she hasn’t gotten used to that yet. Murder. Death. It’s not her world yet. But soon enough, it will be, no matter what and none of them can help her. They feel bad for her, though. She doesn’t even know what she’s getting herself into. They can’t tell her or warn her because that’s kind of the first rule in the agency, is that they don’t tell anyone how bad it actually is.

She’s way too naïve. Even innocent, sometimes. She’s lived in a bubble her whole life and she’s gotten out of it the moment she stepped into that bar and met them. That’s right when she got out of her bubble.

Six nods at her. “You’re right. There are a few things that we still need to talk about.”

She smiles faintly. “I’m sorry, I know that I told you that I’m going to sleep in your room tonight…”

“Then, sleep in his room tonight.” Lloyd interjects.

Six shakes his head at him. “No. It’s okay. I think it’s better that you sleep in your own room.” He softly says, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Hm. Less temptations, right?” Lloyd teases him.

She rolls her eyes playfully, turning to him. “Yes, Lloyd. Because sex doesn’t solve problems. It just distracts us for a while.” Elle says to him.

She’s an expert when it comes to psychology and sex. It’s been a part of her life until now so she wanted to learn about it and she’s mastered it now. She knows that distractions are never the solution to a couple’s problem. It eventually distracts them too much and they never even get to solve the problem. And most of the time, it’ll become a bigger problem when they have unresolved problems.

She doesn’t want to have problems with Lloyd or Six. She wants this to be right and perfect and good. She’s had too many problems with relationships in the past and never got to have a single happy one. Well, it was mostly because she’s damaged. She has had so many issues and trauma that no guy has ever been capable enough to handle it, to handle her. But she knows that they’re both perfectly capable of handling her.

Lloyd’s lips stretched into a smirk, staring down at her soft lips as he remembered how good she tasted like. Now he’s the tempted one. She’s too fucking addicting for him. “It does solve some problems if you’re satisfied after,” he teases her.

She lifts her brows. “Really? Well, we could try that—” she says as his smirk turns into an almost smile and he leans forward onto her. “Later. When we’ve solved our current problems.” She adds.

Lloyd sighs deeply, throwing his head back in disappointment as he groans. “You’re going to give me blue balls, Elle.” He complains.

Six laughs quietly as she giggles out loud. “Then I’ll heal you! It’s kind of my job for the CIA. If you both get hurt, then I have to heal you guys.” She says, practically.

“I think he’d like that very much seeing as you have to touch the wounded body part in order to heal it.” Six teases him, his lips tugging into an easy smile.

Lloyd looks back at her, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Really? You know what, I think I do need you to heal me.”

Elle laughs again, shaking her head as she slaps his arm. “No, you don’t! You just need a kiss.” She smiles through her words before leaning onto him, cupping his face as she presses a soft kiss on his lips.

His forehead leans onto hers as he sighs softly. “You’re right.” He murmurs, “You always are, sunshine.” Lloyd whispers at her face before pulling away from her so he doesn’t get more tempted to kiss her again.

Her lips stretch into a warm smile. “I know I am.” She says before quickly planting a kiss on his cheek and pulling away from him to lean closer onto Six.

Six is still quietly smiling at them, allowing himself to enjoy this moment for just this one time. He kisses her temple and puts an arm around her. “Let’s watch that movie, baby.” His voice is soft and quiet inside her ears but she heard it. Even Lloyd heard it in the quietness of their living room.

Baby. He called her baby.

It’s rare for him to call anyone a pet name. It’s not usually his type. He doesn’t do lovey dovey stuff with anyone. He doesn’t even have a love language — but that’s what he thinks, he actually does have one and it's psychical touch. He likes being touched a lot and showing his affection by touching too. But, he’s never been with anyone long enough to be affectionate and loving to them. He’s never had a relationship, just like Lloyd. It’s always just been quick fucks in a dark alley and one night stands in a cheap hotel, for Six. There wasn't anything special in his life before her, before them.

The word hangs between them as her lips curve into a soft smile and she buries her face into his neck, kissing him there. Lloyd gently grabs her legs and places them on top of his thighs again, straightening them so she’s comfortable enough. He pulls the blanket to cover her more because he knows that she’s a little cold. His hand is still on her inner thigh as she rests her hand on top of his.

Elle pulls her face away from Six before leaning her head on his shoulder, comfortably. She presses the play button on the remote control of their TV and it starts playing her most favorite movie as the light in the living room starts to get dimmed automatically.

It’s dark and quiet as the movie begins and she shifts closer to Six, cuddling closer to him than she already is.

They’re all three comfortable with this and they think that they could stay here forever, just being cuddled up and holed up in here.

They’re oddly and weirdly… happy. Which is really rare for them. Happiness is a luxury in this cruel world.

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