#I cried after years for a m/m couple | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misserabella · 7 months ago

Text

sick love

spencer reid x fem! reader

pt2!!

synopsis;;

you catch your best friend spencer touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;; (let’s act as if spencer and reader are the same age (consensual 18) in high school

really perv!spencer, dark themes, spencer uses readers body without implicit consent (i don’t know if it counts as cnc since later we find out she doesn’t mind), somnophilia (if you squint), INDECENT use of cum, stalker behavior, use of masculine sex toys, breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom spencer, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

@cafekitsune ‘s separators

Spencer was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were no where to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you invited Spencer for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in D.C in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been shared, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up,— and also, who would believe them if they said that the slender nerd of their class was the one that beat them up— so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Spencer loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would steal food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Spencer considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woke up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Spencer was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Spence!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Spencer always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a book he had been dying to read for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been sold out. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Spencer?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Spencer fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Spencer was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, glasses crooked, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Spencer was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Spencer’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and book in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the book fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Spencer, the Genius Spencer Reid, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Spence.”

“I��m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Spencer’s. It was big, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Spence…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Spencer?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Spencer…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his hazel thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded it away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Spencer…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. Spencer knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Spencer, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Spencer crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Spencer drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled when once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Spencer.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Spence? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling of his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Spence.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Spencer, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Spencer, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Spencer, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Spencer, Spencer, Spencer…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Spencer. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Spencer!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Spencer had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

i needed to.

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dark-fics-4-you · 1 year ago

Note

Heyyy saw ur request were open what about dark!rafe catches you talking shit about him to your friends over text???

How a Girlfriend is Supposed to Act

Warnings: noncon, forced sex, domestic violence, choking, slapping, oral (m!recieving), toxic relationship, gaslighting

Despite being with Rafe for almost a year, you had learned all of the quirks that he had when it came to his possessiveness very early on.

The first time you caught him reading your texts, you were surprised by just how nonchalant he was about the entire situation.

He was sitting on your bed after you returned from grabbing the two of you a snack, scrolling through your phone, not even bothering to look up at you until you asked him what he was doing.

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N.” He said it slowly, like he was reminding you of something you yourself couldn’t possibly forgot. The accusing fire in his gaze made you squirm. “Of course I have the right to look through your phone.”

At first you were too surprised to react. You had never really had a reason to look through Rafe’s phone, but you imagined he wouldn’t be too happy if you did.

“Why the fuck do you look so nervous, huh?” He was starting to sound annoyed, and his eyes were flicking between meeting yours and scanning your phone. “Got something you’re trying to hide from me?”

“What? No, Rafe! I just didn’t expect to find you going through my phone, that’s all.” You explained breathlessly. You didn’t know why he was accusing you of trying to keep secrets from him.

Unfortunately, the last thing that you should have done in that moment was try to snatch your phone away from Rafe.

His hand shot out, tightly gripping your wrist as he dug his fingers into the bone beneath your skin. You cried out in pain and watched as your phone fell onto the bed, before bouncing to the floor.

Your boyfriend was furious now, easily pulling you onto the bed by your wrist and onto your back at a painful angle before straddling you. You struggled beneath him, trying hopelessly to stop him from putting his hands on you

When Rafe slapped you across the face the first time, your ears rang and you swore that your vision went white for a moment.

Every sound became muffled but you could hear Rafe angrily chastising you from above, “dumb bitch. I mean, I pay for your fucking phone, so yeah, you’re not gonna talk back to me when I go through it.”

That was months ago, and you later learned that that wasn’t even the first time that Rafe had gone through your phone.

You weren’t cheating on Rafe, that much was 100% true. The problem was that Rafe’s definition of cheating included behaviors that you knew were not cheating.

Texting your classmate a question about homework turned into a two hour long fight that culminated in Rafe giving you a black eye.

After Rafe saw you had and Topper had sent each other a couple funny posts in instagram dm’s, he choked you so hard you passed out, leaving you to cover up the extensive bruising on your neck around your friends and family to avoid explaining what had happened.

Ever since then you had learned to be careful about who you texted, and if you ever texted anyone Rafe wouldn’t approve or said something that he wouldn’t like, you made sure to delete the conversations.

You were always so diligent in covering your tracks.

Except for the one time you really needed to.

After another argument with Rafe had become physical, once you finally got some space away from him you had texted a friend, vaguely venting your frustrations with him, without revealing too many details to make her suspicious that Rafe was hurting you.

As you shakily typed out the texts you couldn’t help but think back on the fight you had had. After catching a guy staring at you in the club, the moment you returned home, Rafe had been quick to grab you by the throat, pushing you up against the wall before hurling insults at you.

“I mean you dress like such a fucking slut, no wonder I have to chase these guys off. I bet you wanted his attention, didn’t you?” His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you with disgust.

You were so shocked by his outburst you had barely registered the fingers crushed your throat, and you finally gasped for air against his strong hand. “N-no, Rafe!”

His grip tightened as he regarded your fearful eyes, “nah, you always think you can fool me sweetheart but you never can.” His chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his eyes, “I saw you looking at him when we first walked in.”

You shook your head against him, tears gathering in your eyes as you begged with him, “I wasn’t baby-”

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N.” He spat at you, squeezing so hard you were sure you would have deep purple bruises on your neck tomorrow.

“I never should have let you outta the house wearing that dress. You were looking for trouble walking around like that.” Rafe growled, his eyes were ice cold. You knew that he was itching for a fight, and you didn’t want to give him what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” you struggled to force the words out with such little breath and Rafe finally gave you a respite when he loosened his grip on your throat. “You okayed it before we went out, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I knew every guy at that bar would be trying to fuck you with their eyes, but I didn’t think you’d be doing the same to them!” The more he spoke, the more pissed off he seemed to be making himself. You knew that he was just convincing himself that his actions were justified.

When he tossed you to the floor, you yelped in pain when your shoulder hit the hard wood. You barely had time to reach for your tender neck before Rafe grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look up at him.

“I mean, do you even love me anymore, Y/N?” His voice sounded hurt, and even though this wasn’t the first time he had used this card on you in the middle of putting his hands on you, you couldn’t deny the tug on your heartstrings you had when you looked into your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Of course I do, Rafe!” You insisted, knowing that your enthusiasm was expected and there would be consequences if you didn’t play along.

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and after being with him for so long, you were aware of the ways to deescalate a tense situation. In moments like these you would have said anything to protect yourself.

“Nah, you don’t mean that. You haven’t been yourself lately baby. Always too busy with work to spend time with me and now you’re talking back to me?” He shook his head, tsk-ing as he glared at you disgustedly. “Not to mention, you haven’t been fulfilling all of your duties as my girlfriend.”

You stared at him, puzzled and not understanding his meaning, “what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” He repeated back to you in a mocking tone, like he couldn’t believe how dumb you were to not get it. “I mean, it’s been, what, five days since you last let me have sex with you? I have needs, Y/N. And when you can’t just lay on your back and spread your legs for me, you’re being a bad girlfriend.”

His words stung, and you couldn’t tell if the tears in your eyes were because of the large hand tangled into your hair, or because your boyfriend was acting like you owed him sex, like you were in the wrong right now.

“Now you’re gonna make it up to me, because you are really pissing me off right now, and I don’t want to hear any fucking complaints, do you understand?”

Your body was screaming in resistance, but you numbly realized that you were nodding your head. Rafe’s hand left your hair, finding your chin and gripping your jaw hard.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” the sick grin that was spread across his lips told you exactly how much Rafe was getting off on your humiliation right now and you wanted to be sick.

“I understand.” You forced the words past your gritted teeth, swallowing down the bile that threatened to come up.

Rafe unbuttoned his pants before sliding the zipper down and pushing them down his legs before pulling off his boxers as well.

His dick was hard, a bead of precum already pearled at the tip of his intimidating length.

You swallowed nervously, already afraid of how rough your boyfriend was going to be. You felt like you weren’t ready at all, but the sharp pain the bloomed on your cheek after Rafe slapped you told you that you must have hesitated for too long.

“Quit your damn procrastinating, Y/N,” he hissed, tangling his fingers into your hair again and pulling you to his dick, forcing the tip past your plump lips.

You didn’t have any time to be surprised, gagging and choking on him as he pushed himself deeper towards your throat. He groaned at the feeling of your throat squeezing his cock, urging himself further into the back of your mouth.

Rafe was in heaven, basking in the sight of your teary eyes and the ruined mascara that now trailed down your cheeks. You had looked so pretty at the club tonight, but now you were a crying mess. The noises of your gagging and the steady sound of Rafe’s cock hitting the back of your throat filled the space. Nothing had ever made Rafe hornier than seeing your beautiful, tear filled eyes begging and pleading with his.

He reached out to your cheek, wiping up a bit of saliva that had been forced past your lips. Your glassy eyes were unfocused now that you had given up any thoughts of resistance, too cock drunk to try protesting against the stronger man.

You were doing all you could not to gag on him and choke, knowing full well that that would only spur him on. Every time you pushed at his thigh to get him to ease up, he would slap your hand away with an annoyed grunt.

His pace was relentless now, one hand was gripping your hair and the other was at your throat, holding you still so he could push himself deeper.

“That’s right baby, fuck,” he bit back his groans, ignoring your gagging and desperate eyes when he forced himself too far down your throat, literally choking you with his cock. “Oh fuck- god Y/N, you’re better than any sex doll, you know why?”

He knew you couldn’t answer him, especially since he had started thrusting faster past your messy lips, but he still paused to drink in the sight before him.

“Because they can’t fight back,” Rafe sneered, picking up his pace again, reaching a punishing fervor.

The blond’s dick was slamming into the back of your throat while the large hand at your throat squeezed in warning anytime you so much tried to pull back.

He sped up on final time, chasing his high by forcing you to take all of his cock. Rafe held you in place and watched you choke on him for a couple seconds before letting out a low groan and spilling his salty seed down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow every drop of it.

When he pulled his dick out of your mouth, you took a gasping breath, but weren’t allowed much air before Rafe slapped you across the face hard.

“From now on, I expect this and more from you every night we’re together. Because that’s how my girlfriend is supposed to act. And if you think about giving me any lip about that, then I’m gonna make you wish you had just kept your pretty mouth shut, got it?”

That rest of the night was no better than the beginning, after Rafe had helped you clean up, he basically immediately led you to your bed.

He chuckled in satisfaction when you didn’t fight back against his wandering hands, and as held tight to your wrists, plunging his cock into your slick cunt, he didn’t say anything about the tears rolling down your cheeks.

The next morning you had woken up sore, your entire body ached, and you weren’t surprised when you looked in the mirror and saw the red and purple blooming around your throat.

Rafe was still asleep, his deep snores letting you know that he wouldn’t be waking up soon.

You quietly snuck into the bathroom, grabbing your phone off of the bedside table on the way. Once you had shut and locked the door behind you, you exhaled deeply, unlocking your phone to check for messages.

Your friend had texted you asking how your night had gone, and feeling perhaps a little too honest, you told her that the two of you had had an “argument.”

‘he thought i was checking out a guy at the bar and said some really rude things to me last night.’ You laughed to yourself as you stared at your own words through blurry eyes. It was both funny and sad to you how used to covering for Rafe you now were.

The bathroom felt more cramped when you remembered that Rafe was just on the other side of the door, despite being asleep.

A new notification popped up soundlessly and you read your friend’s text. She was joking about gathering all of your mutual friends to gang up on Rafe.

If only she knew the extent of what Rafe had done to you. You were sure she wouldn’t be joking then. In spite of that, you were angry with Rafe and wanted to blow off a little steam with your friend.

Which is why you felt emboldened to continue texting her.

‘he’s such an asshole sometimes. i’ve been thinking about breaking it off with him soon.’

You huffed, putting your phone down before finishing up in the bathroom and opening the door.

To your surprise, Rafe was standing on the other side, waiting for you to get out before he brushed past you without a word.

You noticed he was taking longer than he usually did to just pee, and when he finally stepped out of the bathroom, you realized with a horrible chill why he had been in there for so long.

Clutched in his hand was your cellphone, and you could see that it was open to the messages you had just sent.

“‘He’s such an asshole, I’ve been thinking about breaking it off??’” His voice was cold and you cringed hearing him speak your words. There was no denying he had read your texts.

You shivered, frozen in place as he stared you down, his blue eyes boring so deep into you that you swore you could feel them burning straight through you.

Your mouth was so dry, you had never felt so afraid of your boyfriend before. Even after everything he had put you through, you had never said anything about breaking up with him to his face. “Rafe, I-”

If your instincts hadn’t kicked in, you would have taken the blow right to your nose, however you had been lucky enough to dodge the phone fast enough that it only nicked your forehead before smashing into pieces against the wall behind you.

Unfortunately, while you had been focused on dodging your phone, the taller man had closed the gap between you, easily pushing you up against the wall by your throat and choking you with both hands. Rafe’s fingers pressed down against the bruises that they had left there the previous night.

You wanted to scream, but Rafe had knocked the wind out of you and no matter how hard you shoved him, he wasn’t giving up.

“You’re mine,” he hissed as you struggled against him. “Maybe I’ve been hitting you too much recently, because I don’t remember you being this stupid when we first started dating.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Rafe had spun you around and pushed you face first into the bed. One of his hands was forcing your head against the mattress, while the other pawed at your silk pajama shorts, opting to rip away the fabric covering you before freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

“You think I’m an asshole?” He growled, the tip of his cock brushed against your slick cunt and you shuddered at the feel of him beginning to force himself inside of you.

“I’ll show you how much of an asshole I can be.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic #how a girlfriend is supposed to act #rafe cameron x reader

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javier-pena · 4 months ago

Text

three's a crowd

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 9.9k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and he is in love with you, but you both have no idea how to act on it. Until Joel Miller comes along.

Notes: I started writing this fic in June and it was supposed to be a fun little summer thing and then stuff happened and now it's October - but here it finally is. There isn't really much I can say about it except that Dani @alexturner saved the whole thing by pointing out that the final fic wasn't really like what I had talked about while discussin the idea with her and after editing it, it's much, much better. I also had a lot of fun talking about Frankie's and Joel's backstory with you, Dani 🤭 maybe I'll write that one day ...

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

BEFORE

It must have been two years ago, or maybe it was three. Your hair was longer, you had just broken up with your boyfriend of five years, had just moved to a town where you didn’t know a single soul. “A fresh start is what you need.” That’s what your therapist said to you when you cried your heart out after Derek dumped you and moved in with his new girlfriend a week later. But she hadn’t been talking about this, moving halfway across the country, all the way from Maine, where the winters are cold and the air is always salty, to Texas, where it almost never snows and the tornado sirens make you run for cover.

That’s how you met Frankie, sweet, smiling Frankie. Your truck broke down in the grocery store parking lot and he jump-started it. He stuck out to you because he was wearing a pale blue baseball cap, bleached from countless summers under the hot Texan sun, and not a cowboy hat like all the other men around. You bought him dinner at that steak place that would become your favorite, and after three shots of tequila you opened up to him. He held you when you started to cry, took you home, slept on your couch when you asked him not to leave.

You’ve been friends ever since.

He showed you around San Antonio, he flew you to Enchanted Rock in a helicopter he rented, he even took you to Mexico where you found out he speaks Spanish fluently. He helped you fix the roof of your bungalow when it started leaking. You, in turn, took him to the cinema, made him watch horror movies that made him squeal, dragged him along to a rodeo, taught him how to ride a motorcycle when he told you he had always wanted to learn. The two of you just clicked. It felt right.

Now, after three years, you can’t imagine your life without Frankie in it. You don’t remember who you were before him, and you don’t want to. He’s your best friend, and you’re his. Where one of you goes, the other follows. And of course, people mistake you for a couple, of course they ask, “And what about your girlfriend here?”, they say, “You’re lucky to be dating such a nice young fella”. You always laugh, correct them lightheartedly. But sometimes you wish they were right. You love Frankie as a friend, more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but sometimes you want more.

You almost got that more about a year after meeting Frankie. One of his friends, Santi, was in town, and you went out with a group before taking advantage of the hot tub that came with Santi’s motel. There were drinks involved, one thing led to another, and suddenly you found yourself straddling Frankie, wearing nothing more than a bikini, your fingers tugging on his curls, his hands roaming all over your body. It didn’t go any further than that, and the next morning he dropped you off at your house with his usual, “See ya ‘round.” He never talked about it and neither did you. He was probably regretting it and you didn’t want to lose him over something like this, so you left it all unsaid.

He started dating someone soon afterwards, first Arabella, then Bessie, and you hated them both, even though they were probably decent women. Luckily, neither relationship lasted long because it hurt. You didn’t tell Frankie, acted perfectly civil around them, but it felt as if your heart had been dropped from a great height and had shattered against the pavement. You had to ease that pain with a couple of meaningless one-night-stands but they couldn’t take your mind off Frankie buried deep in another woman when it should have been you. And when you told him about Billy and Carson and Hank and Landon and Clara to provoke him to do something, he just shrugged it off and said, “I’m glad you had a nice evening.”

Frankie is single now, and so are you, and life is good. It isn’t always easy, but it’s a far cry from how it was in Maine. You’ve made peace with the whole Frankie situation, realizing it might just be enough knowing you’re the most important person in his life, even if you’ll never have him completely. This way, there also won’t be a messy breakup, hurtful things said in anger, actions you can never undo. You’re content with being Frankie’s best friend, and that should be enough.

It's summer now, one of the hottest on record. The AC in your bungalow broke and Frankie wanted to help you fix it, but then he got busy at work. That was almost a week ago, and you use these circumstances as an excuse to hang out at Frankie’s place as much as possible. He doesn’t mind. He has a big pool in his backyard that he always shares with you, and he loves your company. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s putting off fixing your AC on purpose.

You’re floating on your back, eyes closed, the sounds around you muffled by the water. Frankie is lounging in a chair by the side of the pool, resting in the shade after a hot day. Every time you glance over at him, his eyes are closed. That gives you the freedom to truly look, to see him how not many people are allowed to see him.

You take a deep breath and dive, floating weightlessly for a few seconds. It’s so easy to imagine this to be your life, Frankie to be your boyfriend. If he were, nothing would be different. You’d get to use your shared pool, watch him doze in the shade, help him prepare dinner later, laugh at his corny jokes … Your heart squeezes when you realize you have all of that and still it isn’t enough. What’s missing is riding him by the side of the pool, your bodies sticky with sweat. What’s missing is kissing his neck while he’s watching the brazier. What’s missing is knowing he’s yours and you’re his, come what may.

There’s a shadow by the side of the pool, and you scramble upwards, breaking through the surface with a gasp. “What?” you ask, smiling up at Frankie, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.

Frankie gives you a thumbs up. “Just making sure you’re not drowning.”

You’re treading water as you say, “Would you jump in and rescue me if I was?”

He laughs. “I’m pretty sure you’re a better swimmer than me.”

“I’d make it worth your while.” You wink at him.

He lowers himself into a crouch so he’s closer to the surface of the water, closer to you. “How?”

“Ever heard of mouth-to-mouth?”

He laughs one of those laughs that comes from deep inside his chest and shakes his whole body. “Leave it to you to make saving someone’s life sound sexy.”

“But it is sexy,” you say emphatically. “Imagine pulling me from the pool, your big, strong arms wrapped around me. I think you’d stay calm and collected; you’d know exactly what to do. Any woman who doesn’t fall for you after that would be a fool.”

Frankie dips his fingers into the water and flicks some of it in your direction. You squeal and try to duck, but the drops still hit you in a quick shower. “Shut up,” Frankie laughs.

You use your whole hand to try and shove the water back toward him. You miss. “Stop it,” you tell him, no weight behind your words, a broad smile on your face.

“Hey!” he shouts. “Don’t make me come in there, young lady.”

He always makes you laugh when he calls you that, the air of authority he puts into his words. You’re not that much younger than he is, but he always acts as if you’re 20 years his junior, while you have started calling him “gramps” to rile him up.

You propel yourself backward, away from him toward the opposite side of the pool. “You’re too chickenshit.”

“Oh, just you wait.” He starts to pull his shirt over his head, his cap that he always wears getting caught in the hem of the neckline. You really try not to but you can’t help looking at his soft belly, the white skin such a stark contrast to his tanned arms. You wonder what it would be like to touch him, what sounds he would make in response to the difference in pressure, if you were using your nails or –

“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?”

You don’t mean to, but you squeal at the sudden appearance of a strange man next to Frankie. You were so preoccupied staring at your friend you didn’t notice someone else approach.

Frankie lowers his shirt. His cheeks are slightly flushed. “Joel!”

You glance between the two men, but neither of them offers an explanation. Instead, a heavy silence settles itself over this already muggy afternoon.

Finally, the stranger, Joel, speaks. “Is this a bad time or –?”

“No, no,” Frankie quickly assures him while you bite down a harsh, “Yes, it is”. Frankie runs his palms down his shirt, trying to smooth the creased fabric. “I just … I had no idea you were in town.

“Well, I am,” Joel replies in a tone of voice that rubs you the wrong way. “I thought I’d drive by, see if you’re home.”

Frankie glances at you, seemingly only now remembering your presence. “This is Joel Miller,” he says in an oddly formal voice. “We sometimes work together.”

“Hi.” You raise your hand out of the water to wave at Joel, the smile you put on not reaching your eyes.

If you had to guess, you’d say Joel was older than Frankie by at least five years, maybe even ten. He’s taller too, broad-shouldered where Frankie tends to fold in on himself. His graying hair is slightly too long, but his graying beard makes him look handsome, especially when he gives you a twisted half-smile as if he’s fully aware of what he just interrupted and is taking pleasure in your discomfort and annoyance. You want him to leave but with a clench of your stomach you realize you also want him to stay.

“She your girlfriend?” Joel asks without pretense, nodding at you in a way that makes you clench your fists.

Frankie chuckles awkwardly, a sound you only heard a few times before and always hated. He lifts his cap with one hand to scratch his scalp, then shakes his head. “No, we’re just friends.”

Joel shifts, rolls his shoulders ever so slightly. “Nice to meet you, just friend of Frankie’s.”

Can’t say the same about you, you want to say but if there’s one thing you learned from your years spent in the south is that there is nothing more important than hospitality. “You too,” you say instead, and start kicking the water, doing laps in the pool. If you ignore him, maybe he’ll leave soon.

But Frankie opens a beer bottle for him and Joel sits down in the lawn chair next to him, taking a big swig. You try to ignore them as best as you can, but you can’t keep your ears from straining to catch snippets of their conversation.

“… between jobs … just a couple o’ nights …”

“… go out tomorrow … bar in town …”

“… broke up with me ‘cause she … her friend …”

Sometimes Frankie laughs in a way he only does when he wants to impress someone. Usually, you can see it too, usually you admire the same people but there is something about Joel that makes alarm bells ring in your head. And you don’t like the way Frankie behaves around him. You don’t want to call it submissive because you hate that word, but it feels as if he’s putting up a front for Joel, not saying what he really wants to say, not doing what he really wants to do.

But then sometimes Joel’s eyes are on you, his gaze hooded, and he doesn’t look away when you catch him staring. There is something in the brazen way he does it that makes you crave more, and you’re a little bit disgusted with yourself for wanting that. You don’t know this man, and you don’t like what you glimpsed so far, but when he asks, “Any chance of you joinin’ us, sunshine?” you’re so very tempted to say yes.

“I wanna shower first,” you answer, pushing yourself up on the edge of the pool. Joel’s eyes immediately shoot to your chest while Frankie’s are glued to his bottle, his fingers busy picking at the label.

“Don’t keep us waitin’,” Joel says in a tone of voice that grates on you and makes you tighten your jaw. You want to flip him off, and he knows it too because he raises his half-empty bottle to you. You wish Frankie would say something, or at least acknowledge your presence, but a loose thread on his jeans has caught his attention now. Your chest tightens with annoyance and, even though you’re loath to admit it, hurt, and you huff at Joel before grabbing your towel and making your way toward Frankie’s house. You feel Joel’s eyes burn a searing mark into your back.

You have no right to feel the way you do, you tell yourself as you work shampoo into your hair. Frankie can be friends with whomever he wants to. This is his house and he can let himself be treated however he sees fit. And you’re not dependent on him to defend you against a jerk like Joel, you can manage that all on your own. Besides, it’s not as if Joel is going to be around for long, he will most likely leave after another beer or two, so there really is no reason for you to get so worked up about it.

And yet …

You turn off the water with a quick jerk of your hand.

Stepping out of the shower, locating a fresh towel, it’s like second nature to you. You briefly bury the face in the soft fabric, inhaling the clean scent of Frankie’s detergent, a scent that will always bring you comfort. Then you pull one of the several dresses you keep at Frankie’s house over your head before using the towel to superficially dry your hair. It comes away smelling like him, which sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You’ve come to terms with it, you really have. Yes, you sometimes dream about kissing him, yes, you can’t stop fantasizing about what the two of you would be like as a couple, but what you have is nice. And it feels like it should be enough, which should count for something, right?

“Took your sweet time in there, sunshine.”

You jump, only registering Joel’s presence leaning against the opposite wall as you pull the bathroom door closed behind you.

“There’s a half bath next to the kitchen,” you tell him, avoiding his searing gaze. “You know, if you need to go.”

You try to scurry down the hallway and back out into the garden, but Joel pushes himself off the wall and steps into your way. “I don’t,” he answers. “I was looking for you.”

You sigh and look up at him, hoping he’ll notice your mild annoyance. “Why?”

“Frankie’s busy with dinner.” His gaze sweeps you from your damp hair down to your bare feet, widening as he notices your dress is slightly too tight at your chest. “And you look like good company.” Before you can come up with a snide remark, he’s two steps closer and his hand is suddenly resting on your waist, his palm hot to the touch even through the fabric. “You’re certainly prettier.”

The sudden contact, his brazen approach catches you off-guard. It’s been years since a man has treated you like this, and many years more since you were free to do with that whatever you wanted.

“Come on.” Why is his voice so low suddenly? “Cat got your tongue?”

You roll your eyes. “N-”

But before you’re able to finish the second short sound, the thumb of his free hand is on your bottom lip and he starts to pull it down. “Let me check.”

Before your brain can consider all your options, you bite down on his finger, hard, out of reflex, drawing a hiss from him. He pulls back, steps away, shakes his hand. But that sleazy half-smile is still firmly fixed on his face. “Oh, you’re a little fighter, is that it?”

You take a step closer to him in an attempt to intimidate him, but he doesn’t budge. “I just don’t like it when people touch me without my permission.”

“I bet that sweet little pussy of yours is tellin’ a different tale.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shove him, both palms hitting his chest, and he loses some ground.

He tries to snatch your wrist but you’re too fast for him. “Careful, sunshine. Don’t irritate me.”

“Why?” You push your chin forward in defiance. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, I have some ideas.” Joel reaches for your waist again, but you manage to step back quickly. He balls his hand into a fist. “I just ain’t sure you’d like them very much.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“I’d like to teach you some,” he shoots back.

The sound of Frankie clearing his throat makes you jump. He’s standing behind Joel, just inside the sliding door that leads into the garden, a cocktail shaker in his hand, an apron covering his chest. “Drinks are ready,” he announces, his voice tense. Then he turns around, leaving you to wonder how long he’s been standing there and how much he heard.

Your stomach curls tightly with shame. Not because of anything he might have overheard or because of anything you did, but because you liked the way Joel talked to you, you liked that he decided he wanted you and went for it. You liked being close to him, feeling his uninvited touch on your body, hearing him say those lewd things. And all the while you forgot about Frankie, for the first time in months.

Joel glances at you and some of the shame must show on your face because he says, “If I kissed you right now, do you think he’d punch me?”

And just like that you’re back to feeling the slow grating of annoyance, like nails scraping down a chalkboard. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you huff before pushing past him and stepping back out into the garden.

The evening light is softer now, the heat feels less oppressive. The sun has begun to dip toward the horizon, and Frankie’s shadow is long against the grass as he waits for you to rejoin him by the pool. You want to put on your brightest smile for him, want to show him how much you appreciate everything he is doing for you, but with him you never have to pretend. Your face lights up when you see him whether you want it to or not, your steps quicken, your heart feels full of happiness. Even someone like Joel can’t ruin that, no matter how hard he might try.

“All clean?” Frankie has a lopsided grin on his face and a martini glass in his hand. When you nod, he hands it to you. “I made it just the way you like it.”

“Thanks, honey,” you tease and playfully kiss his cheek.

“This one’s for you.” Frankie hands Joel a tumbler full of amber liquid.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Just whiskey?”

“You seem like a whiskey kinda guy,” Frankie answers with a shrug before taking off his apron and hanging it over the backrest of his lawn chair.

“What are you having?” you ask, sitting down on one of the sun loungers Frankie keeps next to the pool.

Frankie lightly shakes his beer bottle. “I’ll stick with this for now.”

You glance from him to Joel and then back to him as both men remain standing, clutching their drinks. “Well, this is nice and relaxing.”

“Sorry,” Frankie mumbles and lets himself fall back into his chair. “Long day.”

Joel chuckles and steps forward, but instead of choosing the chair next to Frankie’s, he sits down on the sunbed right next to you. The rough denim of his jeans scrapes against your naked thigh and you scoot away from him, clearing your throat. Joel doesn’t seem to have noticed; his eyes are fixed on Frankie.

“You never told me you had a nice place like this,” he says, vaguely waving his hand at the pool and the manicured lawn. “I would’ve come over much sooner.”

“Where do you live?” you ask before Frankie can say something.

Joel chuckles before taking a sip from his whiskey. “You know what would go great with this?” He pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket of his jeans, conveniently having to lean against you to retrieve it. You push back, refusing to make yourself small. He holds the pack out to you first, but you shake your head. He doesn’t offer it to Frankie.

“She asked you a question.”

Your eyes snap from the sight of Joel lighting a cigarette, the filter hugged firmly between his lips, to Frankie, who has his elbows propped up on his knees, a thumb and forefinger wrapped around the neck of the beer bottle, holding it precariously.

Joel takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales slowly. The smoke tickles your suddenly very dry throat. “I live here and there,” he finally replies. “Wherever work takes me.”

“Okay, so where do you currently live?” you probe.

Joel waves his hand around. “Y’know …”

“What he means to say is that he’s currently between houses,” Frankie clarifies, a slight tension in his voice you haven’t heard before.

“Oh, so you’re a bum?” Is Frankie’s face lighting up with satisfaction at your comment or are you only imagining that?

Joel takes another drag. “I’m whatever you want me to be.”

It was bad enough that he had no regard for your boundaries when Frankie wasn’t right there next to you, but he can’t expect you to just take it now that Frankie is this close. You try to stand up, but his hand closes around yours and pulls you back down next to him, the force of it making some of your drink spill.

“Hey!” you protest loudly, but he only slings his arm around your shoulder.

“His girlfriend just kicked him out,” Frankie goes on, pretending he didn’t notice what just went down. “He cheated on her with her best friend.”

“Couldn’t have been a very good friend then.” You pick Joel’s heavy arm off your shoulders and let it fall down next to you.

Joel shrugs. “If I see somethin’ I want, I take it.”

“Must be lonely, going through life with that mindset,” you observe, watching him as he stubs out the cigarette against the tiles surrounding the pool.

“Depends on what you want out of life, I s’pose.”

You glance up at the slowly darkening evening sky, currently a soft, darkening blue, then take a sip from your very strong martini. “And what is that?” you ask, watching a bird glide across the sky.

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

AFTER

“Yes.” It comes out rough and breathless and eager, and suddenly your blood is rushing in your ears. You have no idea when the evening shifted to this, but you suppose it was inevitable from the moment Joel walked in. You just didn’t think Frankie would be the one to ask the question.

You glance at Frankie, sweet Frankie, who always respects you, always treats you like you’re royalty, and you see something in his gaze you’ve never seen before, a sort of strangled curiosity, like he’s desperate to find out where this might go, but unsure if he can handle the way there. You smile at him, and you nod, and his pupils dilate immediately, setting your heart pounding. That’s all he needs from you, and all you need from him.

Frankie puts his beer bottle on a small table next to his chair, leans back, crosses one leg over the other, ankle resting against his thigh. “Tough luck, pal,” he says, and next to you Joel stiffens. “You can kiss her though.”

For a moment, you’re right back there in high school, a bottle pointing at you, your friend Ines grinning at you from across the circle, Billy licking his lips nervously. But you’re all grown up now, you’ve played these games a million times, should know their rules by heart. Then why are your hands so sweaty?

Joel doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even wait for you to turn toward him. His hand is already at the back of your neck while your eyes are still on Frankie, and his lips have found yours while you’re still trying to decipher the look in Frankie’s gaze. The kiss is rough, almost unpleasantly so, and you can taste the nicotine and whiskey on Joel’s tongue that claims your mouth with hungry licks. Joel’s whole body is pushing against yours, and you push back, pressing your chest against his, making his concentration slip briefly. You use this moment of inattention to gain the upper hand and bite his lip, less violently than you bit his finger but hard enough for him to inhale sharply. Maybe even hard enough to draw a little bit of blood.

Joel shifts, tightens his hold on your neck, and pushes up against you even more, like he’s trying to get you to lie down and submit to him. Resisting his efforts gives you a feeling of power you’re unable, maybe even unwilling, to control. You’re still trying to come to terms with the newness of the situation, with the shift that has taken place, but you know exactly what you want, and that is not to give up one inch to Joel without making him work hard for it.

Joel’s hand is on your naked thigh now, tough callouses rubbing against smooth skin. Just like his kisses, it almost feels too violent, but then you remember Frankie’s hands roaming your body in that hot tub, the way the water hadn’t managed to soften his skin. You remember how much you wanted him that night, and suddenly you wish Joel would touch you more.

As if he can read your thoughts, Joel’s hand is suddenly at the underside of your breast, cupping it through the fabric of your dress, his thumb finding the nipple so confidently as if he has touched you a million times before. Your body responds to the touch immediately and you lean into it, your lips parting in a stifled moan. The pad of his thumb rubs across your hardening nipple, rolls it through the dress and the bra you’re wearing, and you should push him away, make him feel like his efforts are futile and he has no effect on you whatsoever, but it’s been too long. Too fucking long. You’re on fire, unpleasantly so, feeling like you’re burning up too fast, like the flames have barely touched you and you’re already turning to ash. You press yourself into Joel’s touch as your jaw slackens, and he grabs your breast and squeezes it roughly while pushing his tongue into your mouth with the sole intent of making you gag.

“Hey!” Frankie’s voice is sharp, but when you flinch away from Joel and glance over at him, he’s still sitting in his chair holding his bottle of beer.

Your ears feel hot with shame as you refuse to acknowledge Joel’s presence and avoid Frankie’s gaze. Frankie was the one to suggest the kiss, Joel made the first move – then why do you feel such shame? Like you’ve been caught cheating? Why do you feel it’s wrong to –

“What?” Joel asks, interrupting the spiral you’re about to slide down.

Frankie squeezes the neck of the bottle, his skin making a wet sound against the glass. “We said kiss.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that sleazy smirk return to Joel’s lips. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little second base.”

Frankie seems to consider this, his eyes fixed to the ground beneath his feet. You wish you could tell what was going on in his mind, but your heart is still racing like you’re being hunted for sport and your body is screaming for Joel to put his hands on you again, and all of that is too much to read Frankie.

Frankie holds out a hand to Joel. “Cigarette,” he says, and Joel obliges. You watch Frankie light it up and take a deep drag, a sight so unfamiliar it makes you eager to commit it to memory. “So you really wanna fuck her then?” he finally asks.

There is a pressure low in your abdomen that makes you shift against the lounger.

Joel only laughs, crude and hoarse, as if deigning that question with an answer is below him. “Where did you get that idea from?”

Frankie takes another drag, a short one this time, before glancing directly at Joel’s crotch. You follow his gaze to find a bulge there, one that definitely wasn’t there before, straining against the stiff fabric. When Joel’s eyes find yours, you make sure he sees you lick your lips. His jaw twitches.

Frankie leans back comfortably in his chair, some of the ash from the cigarette landing on his pants. He brushes it off with a flick of his wrist. “I’ll let you fuck her. But you’re gonna do exactly as I say.”

You think you must have entered a parallel universe or another dimension. For a short while at least. None of it makes sense: the cigarette in Frankie’s hand, the way he talks and what he says, that man next to you who is nothing more than a stranger, who had his tongue in your mouth two minutes ago, and that all of this makes you wetter than you can ever remember being. But then Frankie’s eyes meet yours, dark pupils blown unfamiliarly wide, and yet there is something in them you recognize – this isn’t a stranger who is looking at you, this is your best friend. No matter what happens next, he’s going to look out for you. All you need to do is trust him.

Next to you, Joel shifts, adjusting his crotch. He licks his lips. “Yeah.” He nods. “Okay.”

Your eyes are on Frankie now, heart racing in your chest, mouth completely dry, as you wait for what comes next. Your brain is running hot trying to go through all the possibilities of what Frankie could have Joel do to you, but all you come back to is Frankie kneeling in front of you, spreading your legs. Joel is nothing more than a shadow beside you, watching with a hungry gaze.

Frankie leans forward and reaches out his hand as if he means to touch you, but then stops himself and leans back. “You don’t have to do as you’re told.” The softness in his voice catches you by surprise, but he goes on before you can analyze it. “To start, do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You glance at Joel, at how stiff his shoulders are, and you face him, trembling fingers pulling his shirt up where it is tugged into his jeans. Up and up you pull it until he has to raise his arms for you to get it off, and then you finally see his body betray his nerves as his chest flushes a deep red. There is a scar on his left collarbone, old and slightly brighter than the skin around it, there are some sparse, dark gray hairs on his chest, and his stomach is so much firmer than Frankie’s, so much less inviting.

Joel huffs and your gaze shoots back up to his face. “Kinda boring, don’t ya think? Pullin’ off my shirt when you could’ve done anythin’ to me?”

You won’t let him get to you, not like that, not when Frankie’s eyes are on you. “There’s no shame in me enjoying myself by taking things slow,” you retort. “I know your first move would’ve been to stuff two fingers into me but where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, you’re gonna see where the fun in that is when you’re comin’ ‘round ‘em,” he replies with that infuriatingly sleazy smile darkening his face.

You lean in just a tiny bit closer. “Only if Frankie lets you.” God, that thought turns you on so much your head starts to spin.

Once you recover, Joel’s right hand is cupping your jaw, his grip firm, while his thumb rests against your lips. “Someone should stuff that mouth o’ yours.”

You open your mouth then, until his thumb is only pressing against your bottom lip. You let it slide in past your teeth until you can feel it on your tongue, heavy, tasting like nicotine. You close your lips around the digit and suck on it, your cheeks hollowing, your tongue massaging it. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. Somewhere to your right, you hear Frankie’s chair groan.

The sound of Frankie’s voice interrupts you. “I want you to take off her dress.”

With a wet plop, Joel pulls his thumb out of your mouth and then starts pulling at the straps of your sundress, pushing them down your shoulders.

“Slowly,” Frankie adds, his voice calm as if he’s talking to a semi-feral animal.

Joel moves you so both your feet are planted firmly on the ground, then shifts so he’s behind you. He finds the zipper at the back of your dress and begins to pull it down, torturously slowly as if there is something he wants to prove to Frankie. As more and more of your skin is revealed, he brushes over it, calloused fingers making you shiver. His hands feel so much like Frankie’s, and yet not at all like him. Frankie would be soft and gentle too, but he wouldn’t scrape you with his short nails, he wouldn’t tremble like it takes everything in him not to devour you whole.

The fabric of your dress glides down your shoulders and back, and comes to rest around your hips. It isn’t anything Frankie hasn’t seen before – your breasts are still covered, after all – and yet there is something in his gaze when you look at him, a strange kind of longing, like desire that has been kept in check for so long it has become second nature to him. You can see it in the flare of his nostrils, in the darkening of his eyes, in the way his bottom lip trembles briefly before he darts out his tongue to wet it. And yet he sits there, watching, his body unmoving like it has been trained not to give in.

“Take off her bra.”

Even Frankie’s voice is controlled and even. You shift, pulling back your shoulders and pushing out your chest in an attempt to get him to break, but his gaze shifts from you to Joel as he waits for the other man to follow his orders. Joel doesn’t need to be told twice. He flicks open the clasp at your back with one hand and your bra falls away. You push out your chin, willing your face not to heat up.

Frankie’s throat works as he swallows, a small crack in the otherwise impenetrable wall he has put up. “You’re perfect …” His voice, too, cracks on the second syllable and he coughs. “Wouldn’t you agree, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply. Instead, he cups one of your breasts again and squeezes the nipple tightly between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch you back as a small stab of pain shoots through you. Now that the protective barrier of fabric is gone, you can feel just how rough his skin is against your sensitive spots, how his callouses catch in places your own fingers smoothly glide over. Your head falls back against his shoulder as he pinches your nipple again, as he begins to roll it roughly, pull on it from time to time to hear you hiss.

Joel’s chest rises and falls against your back, hot skin pressing into hot skin, his breath caressing the back of your neck. He runs his nose from your earlobe all the way down to your shoulder, then back up again, but before he reaches the starting point, he sinks his teeth into your neck and bites down, drawing a shivering gasp from you. And then he doesn’t let go. He bites down harder, holding you in place, while cupping your breast with his entire hand, kneading it until your world tilts.

You’re not aware of how desperate you are to find purchase, but the garden and the pool and the sky above right themselves when your hand finds Joel’s thigh. The denim is rough beneath your palm, but he is a rough man so it doesn’t surprise you. What does surprise you though is how hard you have to fight to keep yourself from bucking your hips.

“Joel, stop.”

For just a short little while you had forgot Frankie is there with you, but his voice reminds you with brute force. And when Joel does as he’s told and you are left with nothing to distract you, all you can do is look at your best friend, at his fingers wrapped around that cigarette, and wonder what it would feel like to have him play with your nipple instead of Joel. The painful way your heart constricts at that thought utterly catches you by surprise.

Frankie takes a final drag on his cigarette, flicks the butt away, and clears his throat. “You’ll only do what I tell you to do.”

You shift, the fabric of your underwear rubbing against your clit sending a bolt of desperation through you, mixing with that unbearable longing to create a heady, dangerous cocktail. “Frankie, please.”

Frankie takes you in, and you have no idea what he sees, but he runs his thumb across his bottom lip and asks, “Do you want him to touch you?”

Joel runs his fingers up and down your arm, his touch so light it feels like torture. You try to squirm away but he keeps you trapped against his chest.

You exhale shakily. “Yeah.” There’s a brief moment of hesitation, one that makes your heart flutter as you decide whether you should keep going. You do. “God, I’m so wet.”

Joel’s wandering fingers close around your upper arm like a vise.

But Frankie keeps up his walls. “Show me how wet she is, Joel.”

You don’t think there has ever been a moment in your life where you were more turned on, a single moment where you were less in control of your body and your desires. You try to stand up, your legs trembling like you just finished a marathon, hands wrapped around your dress, ready to pull it all the way down. Joel doesn’t even let you straighten your back. He pulls you back against his chest and wraps an arm around yours before running his free hand down your stomach, not seductively or teasingly but as if he has a task to fulfill. You’ve barely registered the sensation of his fingers against your lower stomach before he has pushed them past the fabric bunched around you hips and into your underwear, and this time you lose the battle against your own body. You roll your hips into his touch as your eyes flutter shut, you push and push, moans and whimpers urging him on. He doesn’t need to be encouraged – he rolls your clit beneath his index finger, just like he rolled your nipple, before dipping it lower, pushing past the muscles at your opening and up into you.

Before you can make sense of it all, he removes his hand and holds up two fingers right in front of your eyes, glistening with your slick. Your chest heaving, you try to catch your breath.

Frankie’s eyes are wide open. “What does she taste like?” he asks, his voice rough as if he hasn’t used it in quite some time.

Joel rubs his thumb against his index and middle finger, toying with your slick. “Don’t you want to find out for yourself?”

Frankie nods so slightly you can’t be sure it really happens, then hides behind a smirk, and you feel something unbearably insisting curl up tightly in the pit of your stomach. “You tell me.”

Suddenly, Joel’s fingers are at your lips, pushing into your mouth. You open up, surprised by the sudden intrusion, and then his thick digits are pressing down against your tongue, making you gag. Tears are filling your eyes, and spit drips out of your mouth as you feel Joel’s hot breath against the shell of your ear.

“Tell him.”

You can’t, not even if you wanted to. Not because you can’t taste yourself on Joel’s skin, not because you can’t talk with his fingers filling up your mouth, but because Frankie flies out of his chair, brow furrowed and fists clenched. Before he can come to your aid, you close your hand around Joel’s wrist and push his fingers even deeper into your mouth, not breaking eye contact with Frankie, not even for a split second.

Joel presses down against your tongue and you suck on his fingers eagerly, but none of that matters to you. The only thing you care about is the red flush creeping up Frankie’s neck and into his cheeks, and the way he keeps closing the distance between the three of you until he’s standing right there, close enough for you to reach out and run your hands up and down his thigh.

Frankie’s hand is warm and heavy as it closes around yours, pulling Joel’s fingers out of your mouth. You gasp, unable to prevent a thin thread of spit from connecting your lips to Joel’s hand. It winks out of existence a second later when Frankie’s mouth clashes against yours, drawing another gasp from you, one that releases months and months of pent-up longing, one that originates deep in your chest but almost dies on your lips, stifled by wonder.

It isn’t a soft kiss, it isn’t even particularly well executed since your teeth clash painfully and Frankie pushes too hard too quickly. He also tastes more like Joel than himself, of beer and cigarettes, but none of that matters. He could have given you a small peck on the cheek and it would have been the greatest kiss you had ever shared with anyone. You feel his breath against your cheek, a shaky exhale, and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself fisting his shirt, fingers clenched so tightly you will never be able to let go again. That is all you ever wanted, all you ever prayed for, and now that you have it, you never want to lose it again.

Eventually, Frankie pulls back ever so slightly and whispers against your lips, “Summer, that’s what you taste like,” and it’s such a corny line it should have you rolling your eyes, but instead you crane your neck and seal your lips to his again, high from the feeling of your tongue in his mouth. He huffs and pushes up against you, but he’s not close enough – there’s still so much space between you. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt and pull him even closer, but suddenly rough hands grab your arms and hold you back forcefully.

“I wanna go first.” It isn’t a request, that much is clear.

Frankie pulls back and smiles down at you, his face soft and open, searching for any indication you don’t want to do this anymore. Even though you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want him right now, the thought of him watching while Joel fucks you, utterly in control of the situation, makes you clench around nothing. Frankie can tell – he switches back to his neutral mask in the matter of a second. “You didn’t do as you were told …”

It isn’t a threat, but it might as well be.

Joel hooks a thumb into your mouth and pulls down your bottom lip. You try to bite him again, but he is prepared this time, holding you in place. “Let me come in her mouth at least.”

Frankie grabs Joel’s wrist again and pulls his hand away from your face. “No.”

You have never heard him use that voice before, that kind of voice that makes you snap to attention, that voice that commands people to follow him. You shift, trying to rub your thighs together, but it’s just a primal reaction you have no control over. All your attention is on Joel trying to pull his wrist out of Frankie’s grip, and on Frankie holding him in place, the muscles in his arm straining.

“I’m going to sit back down, and you’re going to fuck her.” Frankie’s voice is so calm it sends a shiver down your spine. “Slowly,” he adds, letting go of Joel’s wrist. “And if you make her come before I tell you to, there’ll be consequences.”

Every muscle in your body tightens. You’re too wound up to rationally consider what Frankie is proposing, too wound up to think about how much you want this and what that might mean. You glance behind you to catch Joel’s reaction, to see if he’s just as affected by Frankie’s proposition as you are, just in time to watch him lick his lips.

“And I get to fuck her however I want?”

Frankie’s gaze shifts to you. It’s nothing more than a glance, a quick check-in, and you nod, just as quickly, just as imperceptibly.

“Yes,” Frankie answers.

Next thing you know, you’re up on the lounger, knees and hands braced against the soft pillows, faded from long summers under the hot Texan sun, focusing on the sounds of Joel unbuckling his belt. You feel your throat tighten at those sounds, leather scraping against skin, metal clicking against metal, but your mouth is too dry to swallow. Joel unzips his jeans, then there’s a rustling sound, followed by a deep, needy groan. It’s enough to make your heartbeat stumble over itself with excitement. You try to turn your head and glance behind you to see what he is doing, but Joel catches your movement and forces your head down, firm grip at the back of your skull.

“Stay.”

To your right, you hear the sound of Frankie shifting in his chair. He doesn’t intervene.

Joel grabs the bunched-up fabric of your dress with both hands and begins to tear it with quick, jerking movements, ruining it. It falls away and glides down to the ground where it comes to rest next to the lounger, leaving you almost completely exposed to Joel. And Joel doesn’t hesitate. He pushes the thin fabric of your underwear aside and sinks into you with one deep, calculated thrust you can feel in your chest.

Your fists clenched, your head hanging low, you try to take it, but his thrusts send shudders of pain up and down your body. It’s not unbearable, and it shouldn’t surprise you; he fucks like he does everything else – rough and with an edge of violence to it – but the stretch is uncomfortable, and the thrusts are greedy, so much so you wish he had surprised you after all.

“Slow down,” Frankie orders, and you lift your eyes to him. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and when Joel does as he’s told, he watches you closely, searching your face for any signs of the discomfort lessening. You shift, your body adjusting to the feeling of being so full, and when Frankie asks, his voice low, “You okay?” you realize that you are. You’re more than okay, actually. Two more shallow thrusts from Joel and you’re completely relaxed.

“Yeah,” you answer, just for Frankie to hear and his lips quirk up in a smile.

“We’re good,” he tells Joel.

Joel’s open palm lands against your ass cheek catching you unawares, as does the moan you let loose at the sudden burst of pain. Frankie swallows, or at least you think he does – you can’t be sure with your eyes flutterin shut. You push back against Joel, eager for more, pulling him deeper inside of you with a greedy clench.

“The way you’re clenchin’ ‘round me makes me think you’ve never had dick before.”

Joel’s voice comes out restrained, the words are punctuated by more slaps, one harder than the last. Their meaning is lost on you as you are reduced to a babbling mess, unable to retain anything that is happening outside of your desire for him. You gush around his cock, hot and wet and wanton, and somewhere between the thrusts and the grunts, you hear a chortle.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya.”

That chortle is what pulls you back into yourself, and you risk another glance behind you, hoping that this time he will let you see. He does, and you watch him pound into you, both hands on your hips, denim pulled just low enough to free his cock, dark hairs curling just above it, streaked with bulging veins. He has one knee braced against the lounger, one foot firmly planted on the ground. You almost hate yourself for being so affected by that sight, but you can feel everything tighten, your body begging for release.

“Fuck,” you groan, your voice breathy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna –”

With a condescending smirk, Joel reaches for your clit. “Go ahead, sunshine.”

You close your eyes, focusing on how you’re clenching around him. You’re so, so close, you can almost taste the release on your tongue. Your mouth hangs open, a moan begins to emerge from someplace deep inside your chest and –

Joel’s hips falter and still, and you can feel yourself flutter desperately around him, but it’s not enough. You glide along his length, coming down from the edge, frustration blossoming in the pit of your stomach. Joel’s fingers rest uselessly against your swollen clit, still as the rest of him, and whenever you try to grind yourself against them, his touch lessens.

“Joel …,” you whine, opening your eyes to look back at him.

It’s not Joel your gaze lands on. It’s Frankie, standing right there next to the lounger, one hand on Joel’s head, fisting his hair, pulling on it so his chin is raised high, his neck exposed, a thick vein pulsing near its base. Joel is breathing heavily, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t try to free himself, while Frankie looks down at him, darkness clouding his features.

“You’ll do as I tell you or I won’t let you come inside of her.”

Frankie lets go of Joel’s hair with a shove to drive home the point. Even now, freed from his restraint, Joel doesn’t fight back. He glares at Frankie as if he’s imagining beating him bloody, but he does like he’s told, removing his fingers from your clit to dig them back into your hip. He picks up the pace again, thrusts a little shallower than before, drawing a sigh of relief from you, scratching that undefinable itch Frankie restraining Joel like that triggered in you. That itch you don’t want to examine too closely right now but that you know you’ll return to.

Frankie pats Joel’s shoulder, two firm raps against the straining muscles. “Good boy.”

You clench so hard around Joel he must notice, but he doesn’t remark on it. He resumes the steady snapping of his hips while your eyes fall shut and drop down to your elbows, those two words floating around your mind like an echo.

Good boy.

A desperate little whimper escapes you, one at least Frankie seems to hear, because he runs two knuckles up and down your spine in a movement that is meant to calm you but shoves you toward the edge with a violent jolt. He must know what he’s doing to you, there is no way he hasn’t noticed. And it should fill you with shame, it should make you resent him, the way you lie bare before him, showing him the most vulnerable parts of yourself, but it only makes you want him more. You open your eyes to find him standing right next to you. This close, you can see how tight his pants stretch over the bulge you hadn’t noticed before, how you think you can even make out a dark spot of precum forming against the fabric. You lick your lips.

“Frankie, please.” Your voice is rough and broken, laced with desperation.

Joel shoves into you so violently you feel the thrust in your throat, but he doesn’t say anything.

Frankie leans down and places a soft kiss against your temple, then runs his thumb across your furrowed brow. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

You whish you could tell him you’ve been ready ever since he suggested Joel should fuck you, but you can only laugh, a broken sound followed by a hard swallow.

Frankie straightens his back, his eyes bright with excitement. “I see.” He makes his way back over to his chair and sits down, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “Go ahead, Joel.”

Joel picks up the pace, making every thought, every doubt you might have, instantly disappear from your head. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing you hard, and after that it doesn’t take long at all. After that, you let out a deep moan and push back against Joel so hard it makes him lose his rhythm, but it doesn’t matter. You’re coming, pulling him deeper into you as he fucks you through it, letting you squeeze him as you sink deep into pleasure, losing track of your body’s movements.

You come back to the surface when you’re spent, and everything feels sore and tender, but Joel doesn’t stop. There is a burning between your legs now and you hiss, reaching back for him.

Frankie is there next to you again, cupping your cheek. You have no idea when he approached, what made him leave his role as spectator this time, but you instantly relax when you feel his touch on him. “Just a little more,” he murmurs, calming you. “You can take it, I know you can.”

You watch him squeeze the bulge in his pants, and giving it another, harder squeeze when Joel grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back. The proof of how much he’s affected by you is enough to chase away the discomfort and rekindle the fire in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes glued to the bulge in Frankie’s pants you wonder what it would be like to feel him thrust into you, chasing his release, to feel him take what he needed from your body, fueled by how much you want him in return.

Finally, Joel stills and spills into you, groaning as his orgasm sparks through him. But your eyes are locked to Frankie’s, as neither of you dares to look away.

THE OUTCOME

The neon sign of the motel casts deep shadows into the cabin of Frankie’s pickup. Your gaze is fixed to the flashing letters, promising vacancy. A car rushes past, its tires whispering against the concrete, still hot from the Texan summer day. You try to ignore the tightness in your stomach, but when a door falls shut with a rattling bang somewhere nearby, you feel that sound like a punch to your gut.

“That was fun,” Joel says from the backseat. He stretches his legs, kicking his foot against your backrest. “If you ever wanna repeat that …” He lets the offer hang there in the air between you.

Frankie grabs the steering wheel tightly, the wood groaning under his skin. “We’ll know where to find you,” he finishes the sentence.

Joel braces both hands against your backrest and leans forward so his lips are close to your ear. “I think I’ll stick around for a while, so if you ever wanna grab some drinks, sunshine …”

Only half-listening, you reply, “Whatever,” fighting down the nausea you’ve been feeling ever since you climbed into Frankie’s truck.

“Whatever,” Joel echoes with a huff, opens the backdoor, and climbs out. “You know, I’ve had better,” he adds, before shutting the door with a loud bang.

“Hey!” Frankie barks, but you shake your head, and Frankie lets him walk away.

It doesn’t matter what Joel says to you. You couldn’t care less. Because as soon as Frankie starts the car, he’ll drive it straight over to your place, say goodnight without really looking at you, and tomorrow, he’ll pretend that none of this happened. Just like he did before. And as much as you hate that thought, you’re going to have to live with it.

As Joel climbs the stairs to the second-floor landing of the motel, you say, “You’ll want to take me home now, right?” It’s best to get it over with as quickly as possible.

The wood groans again, but this time from Frankie loosening his grip. He takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his ruffled curls. You don’t look at him, but you study him out of the corner of your eye, trying to read his face. He puts the cap back on, then slings his arm across the backrest of your seat. “Actually … I was hopin’ you’d come back to my place.”

The nausea you’ve been feeling pricks up its ears with interest and then curls up into a tiny ball, tugged away in a corner of your stomach. “Oh?” you say. And that’s all you manage before he closes the distance between you, his left hand cupping your jaw, his lips brushing against yours, tentatively, asking for permission. You give it to him by fisting his shirt, pulling him toward you, by smiling against his lips, exhaling all the tension in one short giggle, full of relief. He strokes his thumb across your cheek at the same time as you open up for him so he can brush his tongue against yours. You find yourself mirroring him, hand on his cheek, thumb running over the stubble there, relishing the feeling of him being so close.

You pull away first, and he follows you, mouth slightly open, chasing another taste. “What are we gonna do at your place? Do you have more friends who want to fuck me while you watch?” you ask, high from the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, from that promise that he won’t forget about any of this in the morning.

A neon flash lights up Frankie’s face, once, twice, as you watch his cheeks darken with a flush. He takes his time, studying your face closely. “No,” he says, his voice a low rumble, so unfamiliar it draws a smile from him, “I want to fuck you myself.”

If you enjoyed the fic, I'd love to hear from you 🥰 feel free to leave a comment or drop into my inbox anytime ...

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #frankie morales x reader x joel miller #frankie morales x you x joel miller #triple frontier fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i need to stop with these insanely long fics lmao

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

Text

SOMETHING REUNITED !!! SEBASTIAN V. X FEM!READER! X MARK W. (18+)

summary: sometimes a cat-and-mouse game of three can last longer than intended.

content warning: smut below the cut (minors dni), explicit language, mfm threesome, dom!sebastian and dom!mark (mentions rbr!mark and rbr!seb), multi 21, oral sex (m receiving) + deepthroat + facefucking, dumbification if you squint hard enough, double penetration + spitroast, praise kink, size kink-esque, age gap (with mark), unprotected sex (NOT RECOMMENDED)

💌re:moony's planner request: "pls more webberxsebxreader preferably smut"

note: i have a couple asks/requests sitting on my inbox for a while and this is the first thing i've written in a while 😭 i'm sorry to disappoint y'all but enjoy regardless xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

even ten years later, she still had them chasing after her.

working with red bull was anything but easy for her back in 2012, being a 22 years old woman and all. women in motorsports were something of a relatively new topic back then and when she made her presence known in the milton keynes factory, she would have expected things to be hard for her.

well… it was hard for her for a brief moment until a certain australian and german molded her into something more bold, giving her the attention and validation she desired.

yet she persisted, thinking of them as people who merely wanted her to feel comfortable in the formula one field. she didn’t think much of it before.

until malaysia 2013 happened. sebastian vettel won after he stopped following a team order, causing mark webber his p1 and in the process the ‘multi 21’ controversy occurred.

she was there to witness all of that - from mark’s radio to sebastian’s interview post-race, even their cooldown room segment. she was there.

that was also the same night mark finally snapped and bent her over his hotel room bed, with her allowing mark to fuck the frustration out of himself while she whined and cried about how big he was— and how full she felt.

it didn’t take long for sebastian to hear her whimpering and her pleading, as his room was situated next to mark’s. the german driver came knocking on mark’s door, and sebastian found his cock in her mouth and his hands gripping her hair.

mark, ever the dominant man that he was, demanded the woman to suck the race winner’s cock and condescendingly told sebastian it was a ‘congratulatory gift’ from the australian.

that was the last night they’ve ever seen each other in the same bed, but they saw each other a lot in the paddock.

in 2014, mark left for world endurance while sebastian continued to chase after her - to which she explicitly stated that she wasn’t going to do it again. but sebastian pursued her continuously anyway.

now, in 2023, both men were retired but they always found themselves coming back to the paddock or the pit lane. mark webber had been managing a driver who was a rookie this year, while sebastian couldn’t find himself to leave the scene as he was newly retired.

both had excuses, but no one really knew the real reason why they kept coming back. no one knew but themselves… and her.

the ten year build up led to her hotel room by the suzuka track, her tits were splayed out and pinched and caressed by both men and her knicker becoming more damp as they continued to tease her. she uttered nothing but a pitiful sigh, something that had both men groaning in delight.

“god, i fuckin’ miss that whining of yours, baby,” mark nipped her ear, his greying stubble grazing her neck and his grubby fingers nestling themselves between her legs. “miss the way you fuckin’ plead. you miss being handled like this, don’t you?”

sebastian chuckled darkly, his hand finding itself stabilizing her chin as he examined her desperate face. “and you thought those men you’ve been fucking were fulfilling your needs,” sebastian’s german accent thickened as he gave her an amused smile, “we’ve been waiting for this for ten years, liebe.”

it was a blur, having to figure out how she went from sinking down to her knees and choking on sebastian’s cock as the tip hit the back of her throat. she could feel a lot of things.

this included mark’s hand that held her hair up and bobbed her head back and forth. mark crooned sweetly and praised her, “there we go. that’s a good girl. keep sucking his cock like that, baby. you’re doing so good for him.”

mark nearly laughed when he watched her knees close and clench, fascinated at her submissive state as his eyes looked at her teary ones.

sebastian’s usually-bright-blue eyes were darkening as her mouth took in mark’s length, watching the way her tongue swirled around the aussie’s tip before her nose grazed the hipbone of the older man.

mark let out a guttural groan, feeling his tip at the back of her throat as she skillfully took him in. he let out a string of curses before he muttered, “good girl. keep sucking me off like that. ‘m gonna fuck this throat of yours, hm?” he peered down at her, waiting for her go ahead and witnessing her nod.

sebastian smirked as mark’s hips began to snap forward, lewd sounds of liquid escaping her barely empty mouth as she continued to indulge in mark’s cock.

“she can take us both so well,” sebastian crooned to the girl, stroking his cock at the same pace mark fucked her mouth with his length.

a few snaps of his hips after, mark finally pulled her mouth away and allowed her to breathe. she panted heavily, looking up at the towering man and still kneeling before them.

“think you can take both of us, schatz?” sebastian asked the woman as if she couldn’t comprehend a word anymore. her bruised throat didn’t tell them anything, earning an amused laugh from mark and sebastian. she was already fucked out and she only sucked their cocks.

mark could remember how desperate she was to suck him off after his loss at malaysia, wanting to please him after he grew frustrated with sebastian’s refusal of order in the track. all mark could think about was how ten years later he was going to feel her again. perhaps even better this time.

sebastian laid on the bed, gesturing for the woman to sit on his cock.

mark’s hand helped the woman up before slapping her ass, his mouth letting out a smirk when she let out a soft sigh at the impact.

soon, she sat on sebastian’s lap, sinking down on his cock as she let out a moan, “oh fuck…”

she adjusted, allowing herself to bounce on sebastian’s cock for a moment before she felt mark move and settle behind her. a splatter of lube escaped its bottle as mark spread it generously, in the process his fingers prodded her back hole as she let out a soft whine.

mark fucked her with his fingers while sebastian continued to thrust slowly, making her writhe and cry out for the two of them. they really had missed this— her pitiful and pleading moan. they missed making her cry like she hadn’t been fucked hard before.

“mm… so fuckin’ tight,” mark whispered in her ear, pulling his hand away to stroke his cock and lubricate it.

she nearly collapsed on top of sebastian when mark’s cock entered her slowly, both she and mark letting out loud moans. she felt so full while mark felt like she was hugging his cock tightly.

“fuck, mark!” she exclaimed, her head nuzzling sebastian’s shoulder for a moment as she babbled, “so fucking big. god, you’re so fucking big!”

“you’re so tight for us, schatz,” sebastian murmured and kissed her temple sweetly. “so fragile, we can barely fit ourselves in your holes.”

“seb,” she whimpered as she muttered, “‘m so full.”

“i know you are, bebe,” sebastian said, humouring her submissive state while mocking her in the process, “you’re so full that you can’t think anymore, hm? all you can do is be a good girl for us because you’re already fucked out.”

mark groaned loudly, now moving languidly alongside sebastian as the two men thrusted in and out of her holes. she couldn’t do much, she couldn’t even reminisce because of the sensations that she’s lost all thanks to their dominance and their primal urge to fuck her endlessly.

“you miss this, baby?” mark whispered heatedly, now moving rougher as she cried out their names. “missed this body of yours.”

“you had us running after you for years,” sebastian smirked, “now you’re a putty in our hands. such a shame you made us wait this long.”

“it’s a good thing we caught you eventually,” mark added as his eyes found her hands clawing at sebastian’s bare chest while she whined and squirmed in pleasure.

“because we’re gonna make sure you’re not gonna slip away anymore. gonna make sure you’re ours. gonna make sure everyone knows you’re ours — we’re gonna fuckin’ ruin every man for you like we did in 2013.”

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck

♡ moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness

#sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one fanfiction #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut #mark webber smut #mark webber imagine #mark webber x reader #mark webber fic #sv5 #mw2 #💌 re:moony’s planner

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sheaabuttaababyy · 26 days ago

Text

Sorry - Jey Uso

Warnings: slight smut, toxic couple, infidelity, dramaaa

Pairing: Jey x Maya

"Babyyyy I’m home" Josh walked in the house rolling his suitcase with a bag of Chinese food in his hand. Unaware of the eerie silence and darkness in the house.

Turning the dim lights on for the living room he saw his wife Maya sitting there with a glass of wine in her hand. "Oh shit. Damn babe you scared the shit outta me" putting the stuff down he laughed walking towards her.

He leaned down to give her a kiss but she moved her head away. Making a confused face he stepped back. "Yo you good. What’s wrong ba-?"

"When were you gonna tell me you’ve been fucking your coworker. Leah" finally making eye contact with him she took a sip of her wine calmly. A little too calm.

Josh looked at her as the room began to feel hot, his throat starting to tighten "W-what? Whatchu talking about?"

"I’m talking about this" pulling out her phone she put it on the table in front of her as a video of a man. That you can clearly tell was Josh, was getting head from Leah.

"You still don’t know what I’m talking about?" She asked standing up as Josh sat on the couch with his head in his hands. Not knowing what to say.

"I’m sorry" he spoke softy as tears spilled from his eyes.

"Oh god. Give me a break" chugging her wine she went to go put the glass in the kitchen sink. Josh immediately got up following her.

"I’m sorry Maya. I cut it off with her I-I promise I’m done with her, Fuckk I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I let you down like this, I’m so incredibly sorry for cheating on you after all these years. I know I've shattered your trust, and I would give anything to take it back. You mean the world to me, and I can't imagine my life without you.”

Tears built up in her eyes as she whipped her head around to him. "Why? Why did you cheat and I wanna know how it started and how long."

"I felt lonely and m-me being on the road I missed affection. Fuck" Josh squeezed his eyes shut trying not to let more tears spill. He had no right being heart broken and he knew telling her everything would break Maya apart.

Opening his eyes he brought them back to her before continuing. "One night while I was on the road I was missing you and the kids. I needed to rant and Leah was there" he took a breath before continuing. "I started ranting and telling her how I was sexually frustrated and how I missed you and need you. He choked on a sob not wanting to tell his wife what happened.

"Fucking say it. You pussy. You already fucking cheated you piece of shit so tell me!" She smacked his chest urging him to speak.

"She started rubbing on me and i let her. But when she kissed me I pulled away but she told me to close my eyes and imagine it was you. And I did"

Maya let the sob that was stuck in her throat come out as her body shook. 14 years of marriage and 3 kids for what? For this?

"How long?" she spoke in between her cries.

"2 months. I cut it off 1 month ago" his voice just barley above a whisper.

Maya was trying to walk away but Josh grabbed her getting on his knees. Hugging her waist he held her tight so she couldn’t move.

"Please. I’m on my knees asking for your forgiveness. I know I don’t deserve it Maya, but I promise to do whatever it takes to make things right. I’ll work hard to rebuild what I've broken and show you that I can be the husband you deserve. I love you more than I can express, and I’m begging you to let me prove that to you. I’m so so sorry baby"

There was a silence only the sound of their sniffles filling the air. Maya gripped his chin making him look up at her.

Forcefully she pushed him back making him fall back on his ass as she quickly went upstairs.

Josh got up chasing after her. Going into their master bedroom he saw Maya take out a suitcase, aggressively pack her clothes.

"I’ve been by your side 17 fucking years. I was there for you every step of the way. I supported you, cheered you on, believed in you when no one else did" zipping her suitcase she looked at him. "And this is the fucking thank you I got, cheating with some thirsty ran through girl."

"Do you know the fucking pain, I felt waiting for you to come home to me and the kids and then get a fucking video sent to me of you getting your dick sucked by some bitch."

"I’m sorr-"

"stop fucking saying that. Your not fucking sorry your sorry cause your stupid ass got caught. You weren’t sorry when you fucking around with her so please. Just shut the fuck up" she didn’t even feel sadness anymore just straight up anger.

Grabbing her suitcase she walked towards the door but Joshua quickly blocked it.

"Please stay. W-we can talk this out."

"Get out my way.”

"Maya please I’m begging you, can we please jus-"

"Joshua I’m telling you right now to get the fuck out my way"

"May-" he was cut off as Maya slapped his face as hard as she could. Josh felt his ears ringing, his face getting hot from the harsh slap he just got.

Going downstairs she grabbed the car keys before leaving the house.

"Hello, hello Mayaaaa" Maya snapped back into reality as her best friend Gina waved her hand in her face.

"Baby girl you good? You zoned out for a minute. I was calling your name for awhile."

He tryna roll me up

I ain’t picking up

Heading to the club

Her and Gina were currently in the back of an Uber on their way to the club. And all Maya could think about it what happened 2 weeks ago. Since then Josh has been calling her none stop, sending her flowers and other random gifts. She sent everything back each time.

"Yeah yeah. Just thinking" Maya shot her friend a smile but Gina could tell it wasn’t genuine.

"Aww don’t be sad girllll. Tonight I’m gonna make sure you have fun and let loose. Fuck that Yeet Yeet ass Negro" she said with a mug making Maya laugh.

Once they arrived at the club Maya could already feel the stares coming her way. She’ll admit she did look good as fuck. Her latex brown jumpsuit clung tightly against her body. And her hair and makeup was perfect.

They went towards the bar as Gina started ordering shots right away. "Yes can we please get 12 tequila shots pleaseee" Maya looked towards her friend as if she was insane. Which she was.

"Girl who tf drinking all those shots"

"Bitch us. Now here" passing her a shot as she raised her own. "To having fun and letting loose"

Me and my ladies sip my D'USSÉ cup

"Wooooo" Maya cheered "and finding Maya new dick" Gina quickly snuck in before downing her shot.

Maya and Gina made their way to the dance floor once the liquor had their bodies buzzing.

Soco by StarBoy started playing loudly through the club as Maya put her hands around Gina’s neck grinding the front of their bodies against each other slowly.

Almost everyone’s eyes were set on the two girls as they didn’t give a care in the world.

"Ayy Jon ain’t that Maya" Jacob slapped his cousins chest trying get his attention.

"The fuck. Yeah it is." He spoke watching his sister in law grind on her friend.

"Why she acting as if she’s single. And wasn’t Josh supposed to come to the club as well?" Zilla asked sipping his drink.

"Yeah I tried to get him to come but he’s been bed rotting for 2 weeks now. And honestly I’m happy sis is out here feeling herself again. She deserves it." Jon spoke nodding his head approvingly.

And he meant what he said yeah he’ll always be there for Josh. Of course that’s his brother. But Maya was also like his sister. So when he found out that Josh’s dumbass cheated. He cussed his ass out. Maya was really a one of a kind type girl, and Their whole family has been shitting on him since the word spread out.

As Maya continued to dance on her friend she turned around and began twerking and whining against her until a tall figure approached them.

"Hey beautiful is it okay if I can come take your friends place?" The fine tatted up man asked Maya as Gina nodded her head pushing Maya towards him a bit so she could go dance on him.

Maya hesitantly grabbed his hand that he put out for her. As she grabbed it she took in his appearance. And Damn he was fine. He did look a little bit younger though but she didn’t mind he was fine as fuck.

She turned around slowly grinding her ass against him feeling his bulge that was pressing into her backside. "What’s your name pretty" he spoke huskily into ear his right hand rubbing up and down her right thigh as they continued to grind on each other.

Turning her head slightly she looked up at him smiling. "Maya. What’s yours?"

"Tyrique" he smiled down at her flashing his diamond grills.

Across the room Jacob, Jon and Zilla had their mouths wide open. This was some teaaa for them.

"Nahhhhh that’s wild" Jacob laughed.

Jon eyes were wide as he quickly texted Trinity the "☕️" emoji.

Zillas messy ass, recorded Maya and the dude dancing on each other. He was bored and wanted a little more drama.

Josh was currently in bed scrolling through Mayas instagram seeing that she posted a new picture.

Mayaaa_Jones✔️

Liked by Trinity_fatu, Biancabelairwwe, CM Punk and others

Mayaaa_Jones looking too good it make his chest hurt💋

Uceyjucey717 bodyyyy teaaa

Tina_818 wait did anyone else peep that her last name in her insta isn’t fatu anymore!?!?

WWE_OTC_USO replied to Tina_818 Girl yeah twitter saying he cheated on her but I’m not 100% sure

Rebeccaflowers NOOOOO MY SHAYLAAA WHY TWITTER SAYING JEY CHEATED?

Brentfaiyaz✔️ looking edible

Rachel_woods replied to Brentfaiyaz✔️ TF. NIGGA WHAT U DOING HERE???

Badgalkayla replied to Brentfaiyaz✔️ Oooh I’m here for it. Get her Brent 😝

Josh frowned seeing Brentfaiyaz in her comments. The fuck he in there for? He always hated how people were starting to put two and two together about his and Mayas personal life.

He sighed rubbing his head as his phone dinged seeing he got a notification from his cousin Zilla.

Lil Cuzzo yo ass should’ve came to the club

Lil cuzzo sent 1 attachment

Josh clicked on the video. He saw that it was a club. The camera zoomed in focusing on two figures dancing on eachother sexually. He squinted his eyes quickly recognizing the clothing the girl was wearing it was the same jumpsuit Maya was wearing in her picture.

"What the fuck" tears burned in his eyes as his chest began to feel heavy. He continued to watch the video seeing how the guy started nuzzling his face into his wife’s neck as she laughed turning her head to the side, giving him more access.

"No, no, no, no" Josh quickly took the covers off him. Going to the closet he put on a pair of pants along with a zip up hoodie. Grabbing his phone and keys he jogged down the stairs slipping his shoes on, running to the car.

Getting in he quickly turned it on pulling out the driveway speeding to the club.

Meanwhile at the club Maya and Tyrique were still dancing their hands became more touchy overtime. her hands grazing over his hard dick. His hands slightly rubbing her titties, some kisses to her neck. They were basically fucking on the dancefloor.

"Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fatu boys" Gina walked over to where Jon and them were smiling. "Sup Gina" they all greeted. "Whatchu guys doing here? She asked sitting on the couch in their lounge.

"It’s a Friday night decide to come here and vibe" Jacob spoke shrugging his shoulders.

"What about you I see you and my sister in law came but she looks a little busy at the moment" Jon said looking over at Maya who was clearly enjoying her self with ole dude.

Gina looked over in her direction smiling like a proud mom. "I know look at her go. She deserves to have fun after the shit your brother put her through"

"I’m not disagreeing, but I think if she continues what’s she’s doing she’s gonna regret it."

"Mhmm I don’t think so. Your brother was literally at work fucking your guys coworker. While Maya was at home taking care of their kids waiting for his calls, texts and him coming back home. He complained about not feeling loved and getting affection when he literally could’ve expressed to his wife how he felt. But no he used a lame ass excuse and cheated. You don’t think Maya was missing him as well?"

Gina snarled in disgust thinking about everything Maya told her. She truly hated Joshua right now. She just wanted to make sure her best friend was happy and having fun at the moment.

In the car Joshua tried calling Maya for the 7th time but again. It went straight to voicemail. He was almost at the club which should’ve been a 20 minute drive but he made it 10. Calling again it went to voicemail. Again.

"MAYA I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DO ANYTHING WITH THAT MOTHERFUCKER ILL BURN THE WHOLE FUCKING CLUB DOWN." Calming down a bit he continued. "Please I’m sorry I’m sorry for everything just please come back to me. I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else" he cried as he drove.

Now you wanna say you're sorry

Now you wanna call me crying

Now you gotta see me wilding

Now I'm the one that's lying

And I don't feel bad about it

It's exactly what you get

Stop interrupting my grinding

At the club Mayas phone repeatedly buzzed it her tiny purse, that was around her wrist. "You tryna get outta here mama" Tyrique asked nibbling her ear.

Maya turned around facing him biting her lip she nodded her head. Grabbing her hand Tyrique led her towards the exit as Maya turned around trying to spot Gina.

Finding her she gave her a look noticing she was sitting with Josh’s cousins and his brother. Gina mouthed "good luck" giving her a thumbs up.

Tyrique led her outside calling over a taxi. As he led her into it. Playfully smacking Mayas ass making her giggle.

Josh finally made it to the club not bothering to find a parking spot. Parking in front of the entrance he turned his hazards on running inside not caring about the security guard trying to stop him. Going in he spotted his brother, cousins and his wife best friend sitting at a lounge.

"Yo Watchu you doing her-"

"Where she at?" Josh quickly cut his brother off too focused to find his wife.

"How you even know she was here?" Gina asked confused.

"His ass sent a video of my wife dancing with some dude. I’m not gonna ask again where the fuck is she?!" He felt himself getting heated ready to crash out.

They all looked towards Zilla who looked away avoiding eye contact.

"Oh welp Maya left with fine shyt" Gina smiled up at him sipping her drink.

"AND YOU LET HER?" Josh yelled starting to attract others attention.

"Ayy man don’t yell at her" Jon quickly came in defence. Josh looked towards him stepping to him.

"You! Your my fucking brother and you didn’t even try to stop her from leaving. What kind of brother are you? You supposed to be on my side! Zilla was the one who had to text me. Not yo ass"

Jon stood up real quick. He wasn’t about to get bashed on when all of this was his own brothers fault.

"First of all. Don’t question about what kind of brother I am. When yo ass couldn’t even be a good husband." A look of hurt flashed Josh’s eyes, but it quickly got masked with anger.

"Shut yo ass up" he pushed his older twin back as the same security guard from the entrance of the club snatched his ass up real quick, before Jon could even react.

In the taxi Maya was flushed against Tyriques side as she got to know about him a little more. She found out he was 27 which meant she was 7 years older than him.

Which wasn’t too bad to her. She usually went older not younger, but this man carried himself so maturely that she was gonna give him a try.

Arriving they got out as Tryique greeted the security guard of the building. Going into the elevator they both went in as he pressed the floor to his penthouse.

Going to the opposite wall from her, his eyes trailing up and down Mayas body making her smirk looking down.

Once the doors opened up her jaw dropped looking at the penthouse. Maya turned around to compliment his place, but was met with Tyriques lips on hers.

She moaned at the softness of his lips. Crouching down he lifted her up carrying her over to his couch. Laying her down he grabbed the straps of her latex jumpsuit. Pulling them down her arms exposing her breasts.

Eagerly he slipped the rest of the clothing down her legs taking her panties off as well.

Slowly he opened her legs seeing her glistening pussy. Kissing up her thighs his mouth finally met her heated center, French kissing it as Maya gripped his braids throwing her head back in ecstasy.

The tea is hot 😝☕️

🏷 Taglist: @usoinked @mselenalovebug @theusotwinzcom @bloodlineslut @urbeez @luvrsluxe @trippinsorrows @catxo @whowrotethenote @uceyliyahh

#jey uso x black oc #jey uso x black reader #wwe x black oc #jey uso fanfiction #Jey uso x reader #spotify #jey uso #black reader #black oc

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citrusbarking · 1 month ago

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just the smut part- for the freaks :3

“I’m gonna breed ya in the damned bed you were made in kiddo…if your so determined that you’d be a good lover cause your more like your ma” he pushed his head into the pillows, a panicked little noise coming from the younger boy “then maybe I should fuck you the same way I did the night I knocked her up yea? on the same damned mattress. In the same position… breed you with the same seed your made out of…” his voice reverberated in the boys ear, his final statement punctuated with the sound of his belt unbuckling…

In one swift movement he yanked the boy to the edge of the bed, a deep fearful whirlwind starting in boys gut made him second guess himself about this, he just wanted to alll his dads love and attention like he always had but..this..this felt to far…His heart was racing, knowing that this was crossing a line he should never have approached but before he could calmly tap out he felt his pants and briefs hit the floor.

“wait-wait dad-I’m sorry- never mind I’m sorry!-“ he began to beg and kick a little only to be cut off by his face being pushed into the pillows from behind. The soild feeling of the front of his fathers thighs pressed against the back of his was gut churning, he hit the mattress and tried to get free but he was completely trapped as his father thick arm wrapped around his torso and raised his legs as his back was in a perfect little arch. The father whistled “jeez boy….maybe I should be thanken ya kiddo…been a long time since iv seen a sight like this…lets see just how much you’ve taken after your ma.” He muttered, freeing his arm to thumb open the shamefully wet slit between his sons shaking thighs, his kids muffled protests and panicked tap outs got more frantic..with a harsh open palmed slap to the boys soft butt he reminded him “oi. Remember….you asked for this.” He gruffed in his fatherly tone, sliding two thick fingers inside his little boy.

He slowly started pumping them, the plush gummy walls of his own kid clenching and begging for more as the boy cried for less…. “Atta boy! See? Look at ya….fuck…breakin in just as easy as your ma did…” he praised and let go of the boys hair..

Pleasure started to slowly build in his stomach. It felt so good, but the knowledge of what he was doing to his own father was making him feel guilty, which only made the pleasure burn even more.

“Is this..is this how you acted with m-mama?” The boy whimpered through blubbering lips…his tummy twisting the fingers where suddenly removed, a void he wanted stuffed. “D-dad?” He whimpered before, in one sudden harsh stroke his dad buried himself balls deep into his little boy, the stretch made him cry out in pained surprise.

his pace was harsh and rymathic “I don’t want you whining about me loving on the farm boy again after this or next time you’re on your knees in front HIM. Got it?” he growled through moan strained pants, sliding nearly the full way out then plunging all the way back, his head kiss his own sons cervix at a unforgiving pace. Hitting all the right spots in the slick tight walls. Soon he became undone was deep moans and gunts.

all the ruined kid could manage was a string of “ah-ah-ah” and singing the word dad over and over between sobs, his thighs shaking and clenching, he could feel where his dads cock hit every time. The boys noises started to run together as the pleasure started to burn hotter and hotter in his stomach. He gripped onto the sheets and anything else he could grab tighter, his breathing getting quicker and louder as suddenly he spasmed around his dads thick cock. Screaming his dad’s name through it, sobbing. The sudden tightness and sight of his own boys cummies just….completely blanked his mind as he made a final swift plunge into the boys cervix, his seed filling him…it had been years since he came…it over flowed the boys beaten womb…..

after a couple seconds of hazy glory the older man sighed slowly pulled out of his shaken and broken in boy “shh..shhh easy now..atta boy…” he whispered gently turning him onto his back “deep breaths….g-god dammit..” he groaned seeing the pleasure drunk look on his boys face “Your not..meant to want this..this was meant to be a reality check bud…not..feed into your perversion” he whispered almost shamefully, it was no use though…his dad came inside……now he wound have his dad all to himself..forever <3

#ftm puppy #puppyboy #fauxc3st #dumb puppy #fauxcest #puppypl4y #dad x son #t4t dadcest #t4t dadcon #!cky daddy #dadcest #ftm breeding #r4p3 fantasy #corruption kink #ickykiddo #1cky d4ddy #1cky d@d

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justasecretflower · 6 months ago

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HIII!! ermm this is my first time requesting something so idk if I'm doing something wrong, but I saw the Ticci Toby dating before he became a proxy can we pretty please have one where we meet him after he became a proxy? Tyyy!!! (You can just ignore this if you're already making something similar or you just don't want to do it) 🤍🖤

Hi chérie! I love this idea hon:)! When requesting creepypasta you put the “🥀” emoji if you wanna request more :). Love you sm!

🥀- Meeting Ticci Toby! Again after dating him before he was a proxy 🤍

Synopsis- you meet ticci Toby in the woods after you haven’t seen him for years. What’s his reaction?

~fluff.

____________________________________________.

- seeing the boy you once loved years ago, now a hatchet in his hands with somebody’s blood smeared on his clothes is certainly a tough sight.

- you were out for a walk in the woods expecting it to be quiet, not expecting to see him..

- his eyes would soften, his shoulders slump and letting go of the hatchet as it slipped out of his grasp.

- he scans over your body head to toe, examining the slight changes within you. He soaks up every bit of it.

————————————————————————

The crickets hopped through the thick blades of grass, fireflies popped out occasionally, lighting up a tiny patch of darkness throughout the forest. It was peaceful, just the way I liked it. The peace coddled me and made me feel snug, like I was wrapped in a quilt.

Hearing some footsteps my eyes quickly snap to look where the source of the sound was, my heart thumping and my body tensing with goosebumps decorating my skin. Then I see him, face to face with a man I used to love. That I mourned when he went missing, that I cried millions of raging oceans of tears for. He had changed tremendously. He grew a good couple of inches / a foot on me (depending on how tall u are.) his face got severely scarred, like his face got cut into, and he had blood splattered on his coat, hands, and hatchet that he was carrying. I didn’t know what happened, I don’t even wanna picture it, but the thoughts telling me I knew what happened, and throwing pictures into my head of my Toby taking someone’s life make me slap a hand over my mouth and take a shaky breath in.

His hazel eyes go through a mix of emotion. Anger, confusion, realization, then landing on a softened look of affection, like our memories together are just now hitting him. I can’t speak. Even if I want to. “Y-Y/n..” he whispers my name like a prayer, soft spoken, promising, gentle, honest.

My hand shakily reaches back down. “Toby.” I echo back. My voice almost a fleeting breath, just barely a whisper. He keeps getting closer, and my breathing keeps getting more shallow with every crunch of the fiery leaves under his boots.

We’re just a couple inches to a foot away from each other now. I can see his dark hazel eyes, that I used to look into before kissing him, the messy brown hair I used to thread between my fingertips , the lips I used to laugh into a kiss on, he pulls so many strings on my heart by just looking at me. Like he’s playing a heavenly harp and I’m just standing here, soaking up his presence.

“I m-missed y-you.” And the walls crumble down, the strings break.

____________________________________________

- he stalks you for a bit, deciding to leave small things he found like pinecones and wildflowers at your porch.

- he makes it clear that he’s sending it.

- eventually, he starts giving them to you in person, starting to talk to you more and more.

- you learned about what happened, and what he does. You’re not thrilled, but you can’t stop what you’re feeling.

- whenever he’s with you, he goes back to a time when he didn’t have any blood on his hands, when he looked up to the stars and kissed you under them, when there were fleeting kisses under the covers and comforting snuggles.

- you’re his warmth.

- unlike him, you didn’t change for the worse, And you’re doing amazing in life, which makes him so happy.

- he knows you find his killing distasteful, so whenever he goes out to kill, he comes back and just.. grips onto you, sinking on his knees and mumbling stuff about how he loves you, he missed you, and how much he’s sorry that he ended up like this. Clothes all bloody and dirty, dirt caking his face with somebody’s blood on his hands.

- his love language is touch..WOAH!!

- his hand is always in yours, finger tips to finger tips, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, kissing softly, tight hugs, loving embraces.

- refuses to get you involved with slender. You’re the only thing in his life that doesn’t revolve around killing, the creeps, and gruesome settings, you’re what brings him back to simpler times, he 100% preserves that.

- “Angel” because you saved him yet again in hard times.

- “sunshine” because you’re the only thing that shines in his horribly dark life (corny but true.)

- cares about your safety and gets you like a thousand locks for your doors and windows, even gifted you a hatchet to match his right next to your bed if something happens while he’s gone.

- he doesn’t mess around when it comes to you. No one touches or hurts his angel.

- sometimes he’ll just..come behind you, interlace your fingers and kiss your lips softly, telling you he loves you.

- he’s so little spoon core.

- he lays on your chest, curls his whole body into you.

- you’re his whole world<3…

___________________________________________

If you guys want more creepypasta make sure to use the “🥀” emoji with your request!!

Tags

#creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta fluff #creepypasta ticci toby #creepypasta x reader #fluff #creepypasta imagine #creepypasta headcanon #i love you #justasecretflower #wilted roses

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kwanisms · 29 days ago

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Homecoming — k.hongjoong

After being banished to hell, Hongjoong manages to find a weak point and escapes back to the mortal realm. He only has a short time before the hounds of Hell are sent after him to bring him back and he makes the most of his time by tracking down his former servant only to find Seonghwa’s vampire curse has been broken and that he’s now happily married to the woman who destroyed everything Hongjoong built up. incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT — 14.2k ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, reincarnated reader, mentions of: marriage, food & alcohol consumption, death, pregnancy, wanting to start a family, infidelity (its complicated, mc thinks she's dreaming); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — angst, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, established relationship (Seonghwa & MC), married life; non idol au, demon au ❑ NOTES — THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE LIBRARY OF ILLUSIONS SEQUEL. IF YOU PLAN ON READING THAT SERIES AND DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED, SAVE THIS FIC FOR LAST. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS!!! THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING I WILL GIVE. This takes place after the sequel to the Library of Illusion and as such, you can’t read directly what happens before this as it’s not written yet. If you’d like to read those, you can find the masterlist for the Library of Illusion here. There’s some heavy stuff in this so read with caution. Thank you for anyone reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: there’s a lot of dirty talk without smut so watch out for that, implied oral (f receiving), implied unprotected sex (don’t), voyeurism (Hongjoong), hot tub makeout, implied hot tub sex, vaginal penetration, nipple play (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving), facefucking, deepthroating, piv sex, praise, dirty talk, degrading names (f receiving: slut, whore), mild impact play (spanking), forced cuckold (Seonghwa), somnophilia, slight dacryphilia (Joong likes it when Hwa cries), a lot of dirty talk on Joong’s part, breeding kink, cum inside, forced oral (MC is in a trance and Hongjoong forces her to give Hwa oral while he’s tied up), bondage/rope play (Seonghwa is basically bound and gagged through the whole thing up until the end), mild m × m (Hongjoong touches Seonghwa a couple times). If you don’t like this, don’t read. It’s fantasy and supposed to be a kind of gray area. Sorry, not sorry. I think I got all the warnings but if I missed any, please let me know!

One thing Hongjoong had never been prepared for was being turned into a demon. It hadn’t been his choice, he’d been betrayed by his neighbors. His only consolation were the centuries he spent luring people to his prison, deep in the forests of the Carpathian Mountains, and collecting their souls. It had all been going well.

Until you came along.

Upon seeing you for the first time, Hongjoong didn’t know you were the reincarnation of his servant’s dead fiancée. He didn’t really care. At least, that was until you started to cause problems. He watched as you slowly uncovered the truth, learning about your past life and about the Library of Illusion, the place Hongjoong called home.

The vampire opened your eyes and when you had regained your memories from your previous life, Hongjoong watched your reunion with a mixture of fascination and irritation. It didn’t matter really, not when you were going to venture further and then he would collect your soul, just as he had done for hundreds of years already.

Only, his sight was obscured soon after you returned to Seonghwa. It was only moments later when he realized you had entered the Restricted Section, so he pushed the occurrence to the back of his mind. In the end, it wasn’t going to matter.

Oh how foolish he had been.

He gave you the same head start he’d given the others. Chased you through the maze and you managed to escape into the halls. He would give you your time, allow you to explore before he would finally descend. He managed to find and intercept you in the hallway, cut off your exit route and was surprised when you gave in so easily.

He didn’t realize you had a plan.

He still remembered the sharp sting of pain from the dagger as it pierced his chest. He remembered the incantation you hissed as you twisted the knife, white hot pain searing throughout his body, the heat spreading from the wound almost as if he’d been poisoned.

And he had. You’d coated the knife in something before driving it into him. You were quick after that, taking off further into the halls. Hongjoong dragged himself up, ignoring the pain and blood that poured out of him as he followed you, stumbling into the walls as he tried to keep up.

The poison you’d infected him with caused him to transform, the visage of his human form melting away to reveal the demon he’d become until almost none of his humanity remained and instead a lumbering, grotesque monster stood in his place.

He finally tracked you down, rounding the corner to find you weren’t alone. The vampire was with you. He had turned on him. He, the vampire, had turned on him, Hongjoong, all because of a woman. Hongjoong underestimated the strength of the love between the two which allowed the vampire to free himself from Hongjoong’s control.

Hongjoong could never have expected that the vampire would go snooping while his attention was occupied with chasing you. The vampire surprised him by reciting the same banishing incantation the priest had used on him all those years ago, pinning Hongjoong in place. Hongjoong never expected the vampire to pull the knife out and shove it back in deeper as he called Hongjoong by his demon name.

The vampire used the combination of the poison, the wound, the incantation, and the name to finish what the priests could not and banished Hongjoong back to hell, something the demon never saw coming. His fall back into hell was much like the first; blackness, fire and brimstone, and burning, but instead of the white light saving him, he broke through rock and fell into the depths of Hell.

He passed through one of the rings, landing hard onto the smooth stone floor of the second. Pain spread throughout his body, the air leaving his lungs and leaving him winded.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of the Panopticon of the Second Ring of Hell. A light blinded him as two figures approached. Hongjoong got to his feet, shielding his eyes from the bright light glaring down on him.

He squinted, looking at the two figures as they stopped at the edge of the light. “Who is that?” he called, his voice echoing around the room. He waited for them to answer, to move, but the figures did neither. Instead they stood at the edge of the light, hidden in the darkness, watching him. He could feel their eyes upon him. It made him extremely uncomfortable.

After a few more minutes of silence, The light finally lessened, instead of a bright intense light, it was a much dimmer golden glow. Hongjoong blinked, his eyes adjusting as he lowered his hand. The figures had multiplied, now standing in a circle around him still in the shadow. The same two figures from the beginning started to advance, stepping into the golden glow and Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

The figures, a man and a woman, walked forward. Dressed in black hooded cloaks, they continued forward, walking the long distance towards him. Hongjoong stood still, watching them as they advanced and took this opportunity to give them both a good once over.

The man was tall with black hair and cat-like, piercing eyes. The woman was shorter than her companion. She had doe-like eyes, silvery blonde hair, and a very youthful look. The pair stopped just before him and in unison, removed their hoods.

Hongjoong stared back and forth between the two as silence fell over the trio.

Finally, it was the woman who spoke first in a soft voice. “Welcome back, Dannarok,” she said with a warm smile. Upon hearing the name, Hongjoong recoiled slightly. The smile on the woman’s face never faltered. The man raised a brow. “Does the sound of your own name repulse you?” he asked, his voice a deeper pitch than Hongjoong’s but not so deep.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“It has been such a long time since he has heard,” the woman answered for him. Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. She was reading his mind. “Such a shame,” the man said, turning his attention back to Hongjoong. “And we gave you that name, too.”

“Why am I here?” Hongjoong asked suddenly, cutting the man off. “You’ve been banished back here,” the woman answered, her golden eyes studying him closely. “You can’t just send me back?” Hongjoong asked. “Back?” the man repeated in a questioning tone. “Back where?”

Hongjoong gestured up. “Top side,” he answered. The man and woman exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. “Send you back topside? To do what, exactly?” the man asked as he looked back at Hongjoong who stared between the man and woman, anger bubbling under his skin. Why the hell were they laughing at him? It was a reasonable request, wasn’t it?

“You had your chance up there,” the man finally said. “You were up there for hundreds of years,” the woman interjected. “Spent hundreds of years doing nothing, I might add,” the man continued. “No souls collected, no women impregnated, no murder, no maiming,” he continued. “Well,” the woman said quickly. “There were those priests,” she reminded him.

“Right, and that expedition party,” he nodded before looking back at Hongjoong. “Not nearly enough death for hundreds of years spent up there.” Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “I killed far more than that. I had thousands upon thousands of victims,” he said incredulously. “Right,” the man said, nodding. “The thousands upon thousands of souls that escaped when you were banished by a vampire and his reincarnated fiancée?”

Hongjoong’s blood began to boil. How dare they speak to him with such contempt. Such… disregard.

“The sheer volume of souls you collected was admirable,” the woman began but the man interrupted her yet again and for a split second, Hongjoong could see the annoyance on her face. “But your failure to bring them here,” the man said, his voice full of derision. “Did you forget the part where I was confined to that shell of a building in the forest in the middle of the fucking mountains?” Hongjoong snapped.

As quickly as the words left his mouth, the man moved, wrapping his fingers around Hongjoong’s throat and lifting him off the ground with ease. Hongjoong struggled against the man’s grip, clawing at his hand, the toes of his shoes scraping against the concrete floor.

“Watch your tone,” the man snarled, the voice of a thousand souls emanating from him as his red irises glowed. The woman stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm gently. “Sam,” she whispered, looking up at him with her golden, doe-like eyes. The man quickly dropped Hongjoong and stepped back, taking a deep breath and grounding himself.

“My apology, Lils,” he said softly, clearing his throat. “Won’t happen again.” The woman smiled at him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before turning to Hongjoong who was massaging his neck, glaring at the man, Sam. “My apologies, Dannarok,” the woman, Lils, said. She offered a kind hand to help him, which Hongjoong took, allowing her to pull him to his feet with surprising strength.

“The point we are trying to make is that you spent a long time topside,” Lils said softly, keeping a hold of Hongjoong’s hand, holding it up and placing her other hand over the back of his hand. “But there isn’t much to show for it. You’re here but there’s nothing else. All those souls have been released and sent to the afterlife. Some have ended up in the different levels but many of them went… up,” she said, trailing off slightly before raising her gaze towards the ceiling.

“What if I went back and collected more souls?” Hongjoong asked softly. Lils’ eyes met his again and she smiled kindly. “Unfortunately, without anything to show for your first time up there, and with nothing binding you to the Earth, you cannot return. You would have to collect the souls again. The amount you had before but that would require hundreds of years and you don’t have that kind of trust from us.”

Hongjoong felt his stomach slowly start to churn. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m afraid you will have to stay here.” Hongjoong’s stomach sank. “Stay here?” Lils nodded. “But you get a choice,” she explained. “You can either spend eternity in here,” she said, gesturing to the round room.

Hongjoong looked up as more light filled the room, illuminating the various cells set into the stone walls. Cells upon cells lined the walls, extending up and up, thin walkways with iron railings providing access to the upper cells. Each cell had iron bars and all of the cells on the ground level were occupied. Darkness lay within the cells so Hongjoong could not see the contents.

He turned his eyes back to Lils. “Or you can spend eternity outside the Panopticon where the high speed winds will whip you around, stinging your face, and chilling you to the bone. Out there, you will spend eternity in discomfort,” she continued. “In here, you will be comfortable for a time but then you will slowly go mad. It’s your choice.”

Hongjoong stared back at her as she waited for him to choose as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He glanced around at the cells once more before imagining what it was like outside the Panopticon. The winds sounded almost worse but the thought of slowly losing his mind kept him from picking the former. He was stuck at a crossroads.

He glanced around once more, hoping to find a way out, though he couldn’t see one.

Hongjoong resigned himself to his fate. “Put me in a cell,” he said. Lils gave him an apologetic smile and nodded to a figure Hongjoong hadn’t noticed joined them. He was then led to a set of concrete stairs that looked altogether unstable and ready to collapse at any moment. After climbing up several staircases he was led to a cell, the door opened as they approached, and he reluctantly stepped inside, promising himself he would one day get out.

The first day went by with no indication that a new day had started. Hongjoong lay on the small rickety cot against the wall, staring at the ceiling of his cell as those around him screamed, pounded on the walls, and rattled the bars of their doors. He shut his eyes, trying to drown out the sounds. He imagined he was anywhere else. A vision came to his mind.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a forest. His forest. He looked around at the trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves of the canopy and dancing on the ground as birds and other cheerful forest sounds surrounded him. He turned his head, his gaze finding a sight he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years.

His cabin. It was just as he remembered leaving it all those centuries ago when Yeosang came to get him with a mob of villagers. The night he’d told you to take his box and hide it. The last night he’d been freed before his death. He walked towards the cabin, finding it void of life.

The front door stood ajar. He approached it slowly, reaching out to push the wooden door open. The inside of the cabin was different than he remembered. It was all stone instead of wood. He looked around at the dark stone walls and floor, his eyes picking up a trail of blood. He stopped, following the trail with his eyes until he reached the source.

His stomach churned, eyes widening in horror as he took in the sight of two bodies lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the round room. Lifeless eyes stared back at him from vacant expressions of both Stella and Yeosang and he let out a scream.

Back in the cell, Hongjoong’s eyes snapped open and he was met with the rough stone ceiling of his cell. ‘You’re still there,’ he thought to himself. Over the centuries, Hongjoong hadn’t been able to rid himself of his host’s thoughts. The body he inhabited, the name he went by, the identity he’d stolen. He was not actually Hongjoong. He was Dannarok. Hongjoong was the name of the body he inhabited. The witch who had been sacrificed as a body for him to inhabit.

Hongjoong sat up quickly. He hadn’t come back empty handed after all. He’d brought back a soul. Hongjoong’s soul. He glanced towards the door and contemplated his options. One soul wasn’t enough to free him but surely, it was enough to give him at least a day out? It was worth the risk.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he got up and walked over to the door, peering out into the Panopticon. He looked around, seeing no one. He cleared his throat and called out. “Anyone there?” he asked. There was no response. He tried again, deciding to call out to the woman. She seemed much more open to negotiations than the man.

“Lils?” Hongjoong tried again, a little louder. The manic chanting and screams from the other cells didn’t do much to cover his voice and yet, there was still no response. “Lils!” he tried again, a little louder. “I have a proposition for you!” That seemed to do the trick. A pair of tall, cloaked guards appeared, face obscured by black cloth as they flanked the much smaller Lils who had removed her cloak and underneath wore a simple pastel purple dress.

“A proposition?” she inquired, tilting her head. Her hair fell in loose curls down past her shoulders, two small black bows clipped into her hair. “What sort of proposition?” Hongjoong leaned against the bars, his hands curling around the cool iron. “I didn’t come back empty-handed,” Hongjoong started. “I brought a soul with me.” Lils stared at him before smiling.

“I figured you would like to keep that one,” she explained. “Someone to keep you company.” Hongjoong shook his head. “To be honest, I’d like to be rid of him. He would drive me insane faster than being locked in here.” Lils’ smile fell slightly. “Is that so?” she asked. Hongjoong wasn’t sure what she meant but he nodded. “So how about I hand him over and you give me a day topside? One day. 24 hours.”

Lils looked at him, studying him carefully. “Twenty four hours? You think you deserve such a long time topside for one human soul?” Lils asked, tilting her head. Hongjoong felt his stomach sink. “Is that not how it works?” he asked. Lils sighed. “You have to see this from my perspective,” she said softly. “You’re considered a flight risk. I could give you twenty four hours and you could disappear for years. I can’t risk that. But if you really want to get rid of the soul, I can take it from you.”

Hongjoong took a step back. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not unless I get something in return. Until you can offer me what I want, I’ll keep the soul.” Lils kept her eyes on him as he sank back into the cell and sat back down on the bed. She turned away, the cloaked figures flanking her as she walked away, leaving Hongjoong with a few parting words.

“Call me if you change your mind.”

Hongjoong’s days were filled with the same routine. Sleep, wake up, stare at the ceiling while the winds outside the panopticon raged on, shaking the building fiercely, despite its strong construction. It made him infinitely grateful he chose to spend eternity inside rather than outside. The days blurred together as there was no rise or fall of a sun or moon. No clocks, no calendars, nothing to help show the passage of time. It soon became irrelevant. Three days, three weeks, three years? None of it mattered.

Soon, Hongjoong couldn’t sleep as his dreams were being commandeered by the faint soul inside that tried desperately to regain control. He hadn’t been this weak since he first took over the body of the witch. He was growing weaker and weaker and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep control. As he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he heard a voice, whispering into his ear.

‘Get up.’

Hongjoong sat up quickly, looking around. He saw nothing as he surveyed his surroundings. The cell was empty, save for him. The chamberpot and sink sat undisturbed, there was no window and the only light came through the bars of his door from the dim glow outside. When he was certain he was alone, he started to lay back down but was greeted with the same whisper.

‘I said get up!’

Hongjoong got up, getting off the bed and backed against the wall opposite it, staring at his bed. Was this it? Was he finally starting to lose it? Would he soon be joining his neighbors and fellow inmates in their manic screams and pounding on the walls of his cell, smearing his shit on the walls and shaking the bars of his door?

‘You’re not going crazy,’ the voice said. ‘It’s me. It’s Hongjoong.’

Hongjoong relaxed as the voice spoke to him. He realized it wasn’t a whisper, at least not from an external force. It was coming from inside his mind. “Wh-what do you want?” he asked the witch. ‘I want out of here. I didn’t ask for any of this,’ the voice in his mind said. ‘I’ve sat by and watched you ruin my life, use my body for heinous acts and couldn’t do anything. For hundreds of years, I’ve been a prisoner in my own body but not anymore.’

Hongjoong stood still as he listened. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “It’s not like I can really go anywhere. We’re stuck here.” He glanced around the room. There was truly no way out that he could see. ‘You’re thinking too physically,’ the voice in his mind said, a hint of amusement. ‘There’s no physical exit, that’s true. But has there ever been a physical entrance and exit to Hell?’

Hongjoong was starting to catch on, a smile spreading across his face. “So,” he started, walking back over to the bed and sitting down on the edge.

“What do you need me to do?”

Rain fell, thundering rumbling as you glanced out the rain streaked windows. “I didn’t know it was supposed to storm,” you said softly as Seonghwa came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Perhaps we should have stayed in bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “We can’t sleep in bed all day,” you countered as you watched the rain fall, hitting the standing water on the empty circle drive.

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Seonghwa mumbled into your ear, his breath tickling you as his hands moved down to your hips. “I wasn’t talking about sleeping.” You turned in his hold, your hands smoothing up his chest over the soft linen shirt he wore. “You never want to sleep,” you reminded him. “I’m starting to get sore.”

Seonghwa let out a chuckle as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Can you blame me?” he asked against your lips. “I spent hundreds of years trapped in that forest. Hundreds of years alone,” he continued, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips in between words. “Centuries without you,” he added. He pulled back to look at you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek.

“And the universe deemed me worthy of a second chance with the only person I have ever loved?” he asked, eyes scanning your face as he took in every detail. “I’m going to take advantage of that every minute I can.” You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly as your eyes fluttered shut. “If I could spend the rest of eternity making love to you, I would,” he added softly, making your cheeks flush.

“Kissing and tasting every inch of your body,” he continued, lips ghosting over yours as he leaned in close. “Taking my time, making you feel every inch of me as I drag you deeper into the throes of passion,” he continued, nose gently bumping against yours. “Whispering words of praise and affirmations of my love and devotion to you,” he added. “I’ll settle for spending every day of the rest of our lives doing just that.”

You giggled as he pulled you into another kiss, the sound muffled by his mouth. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, meeting yours in a slow, languide dance. Seonghwa pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you so much, blossom,” he whispered. “Now and forever.”

You were about to respond when a loud beeping sounded, ringing out from the kitchen. You pulled back to look at him. “That’s lunch,” you said smiling up at him, reluctantly pulling from his grasp but not before stealing another kiss.

Seonghwa followed you to the kitchen as you grabbed an oven mitt and opened the oven, grabbing the dish inside and pulling it out and setting it on top of the range, closing the oven door and turning it off. Seonghwa leaned against the kitchen island, watching you work. “You know,” he started.

“We could have had the staff do this,” he reminded you as you started to cut up the contents of the baking dish, a lasagna. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. “Do you not trust my cooking?” you asked, the tone of your voice playful. Seonghwa let out a laugh and stood up straight, crossing the small space between you as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“It’s not that, my love,” he said as he hugged you tightly. “I just would have rather let the staff do this and I could have gotten more time in bed with you.” Shaking your head, you laughed as you finished dividing the lasagna up. “Is the table set?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “Yes, dear,” he said, stealing a kiss. “Go sit down,” you instructed.

“You’re not serving me,” he protested but you pouted at him. “Please let me play your dutiful and doting wife for one day,” you pleaded, making him laugh as he finally let go of you. “Fine,” he said as he started towards the archway that led into the dining room. “But only because you asked me oh so nicely,” he added, pointing at you before disappearing. You grabbed the dish with the pot holders and carried it from the kitchen into the dining room.

When you moved into Seonghwa’s ancestral mansion, you’d never been accustomed to such luxury. His family owned a gorgeous mansion deep in the mountainous countryside of Korea. It was a grand home with 3 floors and a sprawling basement. It boasted a total of eleven bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, a movie theater, six car garage, an extensive private library, multiple parlors, drawing rooms, and even a ballroom.

The grounds were extensive, with multiple private gardens, a lake that was kept well stocked, forests for hunting, a guest house with five bedrooms, horse stables, outdoor tennis court and basketball court. You weren’t ashamed to admit you’d gotten lost on a number of occasions. When you moved in, Seonghwa had offered for you to have your own room separate from his and while you did in the beginning, it was lonely sleeping in such a large bed all by yourself and you gravitated to his suite which you eventually moved into.

It wasn’t long afterwards that you got married. Seonghwa had proposed almost the moment you stepped foot into the house when he sent for you a few years ago while you were visiting the country. You accepted of course, not wanting to be parted from him for another second. After a year-long engagement, your wedding was held at the house, Seonghwa invited his surviving family. It was a small, intimate affair and afterwards, you went on a month-long honeymoon, traveling and visiting various places.

Seonghwa wasted no time in taking you to bed after you were married. He had a voracious sexual appetite and proved to be a very skilled and adept lover. Your bedroom activities had yet to bear any fruit but you both weren’t in any rush to have children. You wanted it to happen naturally, if it happened at all.

You set the lasagna down on the table as Seonghwa watched you from his seat. “Salad?” you asked, picking up the bowl. He said nothing, merely nodding as he watched you with a smile. You filled his plate with salad before serving yourself. You then set the bowl down and grabbed his plate to place a slice of lasagna on it and set it back down to serve your own food.

“Alright,” Seonghwa said as you set the serving spoon down. “Food’s been served, now sit down please.” You rolled your eyes but obliged, sitting in the chair adjacent to his at the head of the table. “At least I’m sitting here,” you said as you picked up your fork. “And not down there.” Seonghwa followed your gaze to the opposite end of the table and immediately took your free hand. “I would absolutely despise it if you sat that far away from me,” he said softly, gently massaging your hand.

You nodded towards his plate. “Eat,” you urged. “Before it gets cold.” Seonghwa’s eyes never left your face. “And what if I want to eat something else?” You looked up to meet his dark gaze. “Eat your lunch and you can have your dessert early,” you offered. He perked up. “My dessert?” he inquired. “What’s for dessert?” You met his gaze, fighting the urge to smile. “Me.”

Seonghwa didn’t complain or speak again until his plate was clear. You’d never seen some wolf down their food so fast. Once lunch had been eaten and the leftovers put away, you started to clean up, much to Seonghwa’s annoyance. Still, as a dutiful husband, he helped you wash the dishes, wiping and putting them away as you handed them to him.

Once you were done, and the sink was rinsed down, Seonghwa pounced, hands guiding you until your back met the cool marble of the counters. He lifted you onto the edge, lips kissing down the side of your neck as he laid you back. His lips continued down, kissing over the material of your sundress until he lifted the skirt and pulled your panties from you.

“Hwa,” you whined as he kissed down the inside of your thigh closer and closer to your aching heat. “You couldn’t have waited until we got back to the bedroom?” you asked, back arching as his breath fanned over your sex. “You said I could have my dessert if I finished my lunch,” he whispered, licking his lips as he drew level with your core.

“And I never eat in bed.”

Hongjoong wasn’t sure how he got out of his cell but the feeling of the cold rain hitting his skin was a shock, his eyes snapping open to find himself staring up at the gray skies. He sat up, looking around. He was lying in the middle of a paved road, pine forests surrounding him. He got to his feet, scrambling up as he looked around and ran to the side of the road and stumbling into the trees to regain his composure and get a sense of his surroundings.

He leaned against a tree, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. He reached up, running his fingers through the soaked strands and pushing them back from his face. He was in the mortal world once more. He’d managed to find a weak point and was now topside. It was only a matter of time before the powers that be discovered his escape and would come for him.

‘You tricked me,’ a voice hissed. Hongjoong looked down at his hands and smiled to himself. He was back in control of the witch’s body. ‘You said you’d free me!’ Hongjoong sighed, shaking his head. “And I will,” he responded. “This body is mine,” he said. “Once I’ve had my revenge, I’ll let you go.”

‘Revenge? What revenge?’

Hongjoong stood up and stepped back onto the road, looking to his left and then his right. Both directions, the road stretched and curved out of sight. He turned back to the left and started walking, a destination in his mind. He’d picked this place because he knew what he’d find close by.

He continued to walk, enjoying the feeling of the rain on his skin, the clothes he wore now soaked and clinging to his skin. He hadn’t seen a single soul, not a car or any other sign of life. He followed the winding road until he reached a large iron gate. A ten foot tall stone wall separated him from his destination but that wouldn’t deter him.

There was a placard in the iron bars of the gate, an emblem of sorts. The letters P and E engraved into the iron. Hongjoong walked up to the gate and grabbed the bars. He tried to push and pull but the gate didn’t budge. Sighing, he glanced up at the top of the stone wall. He’d have to find some other way in.

Stepping off the road, he followed the stone wall through the woods, sliding down a hill from the road and continued to walk, hoping to find either a break in the wall or a shorter section. As he walked, leaves and twigs snapping and crunching underfoot, he contemplated what he was about to do. He was full of rage and contempt for the inhabitants of this estate. Why should they get their happy ending while he was doomed to spend eternity in a cell?

Luck was on his side when he found a section of the wall where the stone bulged out a little more creating small places where he could grab and climb. Hongjoong easily scaled the wall, climbing over the top and dropping back down on the other side. He walked forward, following a pull he couldn’t explain. His walk didn’t take long as a large sprawling mansion appeared through the trees.

He stopped at the edge of the forest, looking up at the imposing manor and scoffed. “Of course he comes from money,” he murmured to himself. Keeping to the shadow of the forest, Hongjoong made his way to the house, keeping his eyes and ears open. He reached the side of the house and carefully walked around towards the back, glancing up to find a balcony. “Bingo.”

He carefully started to climb a tree next to the house, peering through the windows into empty rooms until he reached the top floor and peered into the room. It was a massive bedroom. A large four poster bed stood against the wall opposite the window, burgundy bed linens decorate the bed along with the curtains for the four posters. Hongjoong leaned in closer, squinting as he tried to see past the rain streaked glass panes.

There was movement in the bed, the sheets moving. He glanced over to the balcony and made a decision. He carefully stood up on the branch and stepped lightly until he was close enough to jump to the balcony, landing on the stone railing. He quietly jumped down and crouched, making his way over to the french doors. He ducked under a window beside the doors and carefully peered over the window sill.

From this position, he could see a little better. He felt heat rise in him as he recognized the vampire. The one he’d made his servant for centuries. ‘Seonghwa,’ the witch’s voice said. ‘His name is Seonghwa and you ruined his life.’ Hongjoong ignored the voice as he watched the scene inside the room. It was very clear what he was seeing. The vampire, Seonghwa, in the midst of intimacy with…

Hongjoong’s blood boiled as he recognized your face. The woman who had destroyed everything he built. The reason he was banished to begin with, all his hard work decimated. Hongjoong watched as you sat up, taking control and pushing Seonghwa onto his back. He watched the way your hips moved and he could vaguely remember how it felt when you were on top of him, hand on his neck as you rode him before you stabbed him.

Hongjoong watched as your movements sped up, hips moving faster, Seonghwa’s hands moving to your hips as he moved with you. Hongjoong’s rage only grew as pleasure overtook the both of you and you no doubt came together. He watched as you leaned down, kissing your lover before he finally tore his gaze away from the scene.

His luck couldn’t have gotten better. Here you both were. He could enact his revenge all at once.

He peered into the room once more, finding you both had started to move. He would have to hide until night before he could put his plan into motion. He stayed crouched as he moved towards the edge of the balcony and climbed over, dropping to the ground and making his way into the forest to lie in wait.

You watched as Seonghwa dressed in silence from the safety of the bathtub. He turned to find you watching him. “What?” he asked softly. You shook your head, instead letting your eyes rake over his form. “I was hoping you’d join me,” you said as you sank further into the bubbles. Seonghwa smiled as he adjusted his collar and walked over, taking a seat on the step of the tub.

“As much as I’d love that,” he murmured. “I do need to attend to some business.” He leaned over to meet you in a kiss. “Just a couple online meetings,” he said reassuringly. “And then I am yours for the rest of the day and night. Maybe we’ll take a dip in the hot tub,” he suggested, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Or just come back to the room and I’ll focus on putting a baby inside you.”

You felt your stomach flutter at his words. You’d been married for two years now and you had both talked extensively about wanting to start a family. You’d both just been enjoying married life and waiting for nature to take its course but apparently Seonghwa was growing impatient. “Put a baby in me?” you asked softly, leaning back against the backrest. Seonghwa nodded, eyes following you.

“I won’t stop until I know you’re carrying my baby,” he answered. “If I have to fuck you for a week straight, I will,” he added. You were about to respond when he reached down, grabbing you gently by the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. “Hold that thought,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He pressed another soft kiss to your lips. “I love you, my petal.”

“Love you,” you responded as he got up and backed away from the tub through the double doors into the bedroom and slowly shut the doors until you were left alone in the room.

You let out a sigh and rested against the plush backrest, soaking in the warmth of the soapy water. Your eyes slid shut as you basked, enjoying the quiet while you were able to. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you sat up quickly, water splashing softly as you did. You glanced around the room, taking in the soft tones of the walls and cabinets.

You groaned as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. The water was lukewarm and most of the bubbles had disappeared and the water was instead a murky white from the combination of soaps and bath salts you added. Pulling the plug, you got out of the bath, letting the water drain as you turned on the shower and stepped in to rinse off quickly before heading to the closet and picking out something to wear.

You opted for a fitted dress with a pastel marbled look. It had ruching and off the shoulder sleeves. The hem fell to the middle of your shin and hugged your body. You chose not to wear underwear under it in case your husband got any ideas and that was one less barrier between you.

You slipped on a pair of simple white flats and walked out of the closet, heading out of the master suite and started to wander the halls. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since Seonghwa left you in the tub but you would wait for him to find you when his meetings were done.

You made your way through the house, the thunder still rumbling in the distance as the rain continued to come down. It was a dreary day so you would definitely not be venturing outside today. You crossed the large entrance hall, your footsteps echoing off the stone floor.

Picking a random hall, you followed it until you picked one of the various doors and turned the knob, pushing it open and peering inside. Even after three years in this house, you hadn’t seen everything it had to offer.

The room you picked seemed to be a parlor of sorts. There was a gorgeous dark blue furniture set decorated the room. A loveseat and two arm chairs. The dark blue cushions were contrasted by the white oak wood and gold accents stood in the middle of the room. Under the window was a small cabinet made from the same white oak with glass doors revealing the contents inside.

Various knickknacks sat on the shelves, hiding behind the glass and staying pristine. Two end tables that matched stood on either side of the loveseat with ornate lamps sitting on them. Behind the couch was a larger cabinet, various glasses sat on a tray upside down to prevent dust from settling inside. The doors of the cabinet were solid white oak with gold hardware and as you approached, you opened one of the doors to find various bottles of alcohol inside ranging from brandy and cognac to vodka and soju.

Shutting the door, you turned to face the wall behind you where another cabinet stood, glass doors revealing more knickknacks and books. On top of the cabinet was a collection of frames with various portraits. You walked closer, inspecting them one by one until you found one that caught your eye. It was a double frame connected by a hinge with two photos sitting behind the frames.

Picking it up, you stared in awe at the sight of a picture of Seonghwa, much like the one you’d found in the forest all those years ago when you visited the Library and escaped. You still had that photo, tucked away for safekeeping but here it was, a larger version of it. In the other frame was a picture of a woman who looked remarkably like you. “Blossom,” you whispered as you stared at the photo.

It was uncanny how much you looked alike and yet there were subtle differences in the hair, the eyes, the lips, and a few other places. You were so preoccupied by inspecting the photos that you didn’t hear the door open. “There you are,” a voice said, drawing you back to reality and you jumped, nearly dropping the photo frame. Seonghwa stood in the doorway, hand on the knob as he looked at you.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked softly, pushing the door open and joining you. Nodding, you glanced down at the frame in your hands. Seonghwa gently took the frame from you and placed it back on the cabinet before taking your hand. “Come,” he urged gently. “I have something to show you.”

You weren’t sure how long you had been in that room, staring at the photo as your thoughts consumed you but the sky had started to darken as the sun set and night settled in. Seonghwa led you through the house, past the kitchen and dining room and into the pool room. It was a sort of four seasons room but it had the pool and hot tub built in. During the warmer months, the large windows opened up but in the winter, they closed, allowing you to enjoy the pool and hot tub year round.

Seonghwa stopped once he pulled you into the room. He’d set various candles around the room, ranging from small tea lights to large candles. All of them were lit and there was a small path of rose petals leading towards the hot tub. “I figure we could order in,” he suggested. “You cooked lunch, which was lovely, but the whole point of this day is for me to pamper you.”

A laugh escaped your lips. “That’s not the point of the day,” you reminded him. “It’s a celebration of our love.” Seonghwa nodded. “And the way I show you how I love you is by not letting you do anything while I have everything done for us,” he explained. You laughed again as you allowed him to pull you closer.

“And I show my love by making you food and being your loving wife,” you countered. “Besides, the steaks have been marinating all day.” Seonghwa sighed in defeat. “Fine,” he conceded. “But after dinner, we can take a dip?” he asked, his voice full of hope. You nodded as you kissed his cheek. “But put the candles out for now. Don’t want anything to catch fire while I cook and we eat.”

You turned and left while he did that and you got started on dinner.

Since it was still raining and you really didn’t want to go outside, even if it grill was covered, you made dinner inside. Seonghwa stood on standby to help where needed and to give you encouraging kisses until you finally kicked him out, telling him to go relax. He instead sat at the island and observed you, his eyes following your every move.

He kept you company while you sliced potatoes for the au gratin potatoes, watching you carefully. You managed to finish without incident and place the dish in the oven while you got started on making a dessert. Seonghwa watched you through it all, fascinated by the way you worked so diligently. “I really am the luckiest man in the world,” he said, chin resting in his hands as you finished the no bake cheesecake and placed it in the fridge to set.

“I’m the lucky one,” you retorted as you turned on the range, ready to start cooking the steaks. Seonghwa watched from his perch as you seared the steaks, cooking them to the level of doneness that you knew he liked. “Smells good,” he commented as you took a break from the steaks to get the potatoes from the oven, setting them on the island to cool for a bit.

Seonghwa got up, walking around to look at them more closely before walking over to kiss your cheek. He disappeared as you returned your focus to the steaks. Once you were sure they were done, you pulled them from the skillet and set them on a cutting board to rest while you made a sauce.

Seonghwa returned a little while later carrying the plates you’d set out for the two of you. “What are you doing?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder as he set the plates and placemats down at the kitchen island. “There’s no reason for us to sit at that massive dining table,” he explained. “We’ll just eat in here.”

You shook your head as you turned off the range. Seonghwa joined you as you plated his steak, drizzling the sauce over it and served a scoop of the potatoes while he plated some of the salad you had prepared earlier. You finished your plate and joined him at the kitchen island while he poured two glasses of wine.

The food was some of the best you’d cooked and Seonghwa couldn’t stop expressing his compliments. When you finished, he helped you clean up once more and while you were checking the dessert, Seonghwa came up behind you. “I like this dress,” he murmured, his hands moving to your hips, smoothing over the fabric.

“When did you get it?” he asked as you stood up and shut the fridge door to face him. “A few weeks ago,” you answered. “I was supposed to wear it to that charity event but I got sick.” Seonghwa nodded. “I remember that,” he said as he pulled you against him. “You insisted I go to the event without you,” he said, cupping your cheek. “And you should have,” you reminded him.

“How could I go and leave my beautiful, ailing wife alone at home?” he asked, swaying softly. “I couldn’t do that to you,” he added. “I would have spent the whole night worrying about you. I would much rather be by your side.” You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. “Which I appreciate but it’s not like I was dying. I had the stomach flu,” you reminded him.

Seonghwa chuckled against your lips as you kissed him again. “So,” he said, changing the trajectory of the conversation. “What are you wearing under this,” he asked, running his hands up your sides and towards your back to pull you taut against him. “Under this?” you asked, gesturing at your dress. He nodded as you leaned in, lips close to his ear. “Absolutely nothing.”

The speed at which he dragged you from the kitchen to the pool room was astonishing, quickly stripping you of your dress and guiding you into the hot tub. The rose petals that had been floating on the surface of the water were now being swirled around by the bubbles as the jets turned on.

“You really didn’t need to do all this,” you said as Seonghwa walked around, lighting the candles once more before starting to strip himself and join you in the tub, grabbing your hand under the water and pulling you closer. “I know,” he murmured as he sat on one of the seats, pulling you onto his lap.

“I wanted to.” His lips enveloped yours as his arms wrapped around you. You rested your forearms on his shoulders, fingers combing through his hair as you both got caught up in a steamy exchange of tongues and breathy moans. “I said I wasn’t going to stop until you’re pregnant,” he reminded you, lips ghosting over your skin as he guided you over his lap, aligning the tip of his cock with your slit and slowly pushing you down onto him.

You let out a gasp as your walls sucked him in, ignoring the dull ache as his cock filled you. “F-fuck, baby,” you groaned as he bottomed out with a shaky breath. “Happy anniversary, blossom,” he whispered in your ear.

Night had fallen by the time Hongjoong returned to the mansion, exiting the forest under the cover of darkness. He’d watched from the trees as you and Seonghwa enjoyed a moment of intimacy in what you presumed was the privacy of your pool room and yet he was there in the trees watching, taking notes, and waiting.

He climbed the tree from before, making his way onto the balcony and crept over to the window to peer in. It was dark in the room and he could just barely make out yours and Seonghwa’s sleeping forms, tangled in the sheets. He crept over to the door and grabbed the knob, turning it slowly until it clicked softly and he was able to open the door and sneak inside and out of the rain.

With the door shut behind him, he stayed low, crossing the room to the bathroom and quietly shut the door. Once inside, he felt he could stand and so he did, removing his shoes and socks and slowly stripping himself of his wet clothes and walked into the closet which the automatic light turned on. He browsed through Seonghwa’s clothes, picking out a few items and dressing in silence.

He made his way back out, the light shutting off behind him. He quietly opened the door, peering out into the room where you were sleeping, the sheets pulled up to your waist. You slept peacefully as he approached, chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

Hongjoong slowly lowered himself to his knees beside you and reached out, gently caressing your cheek. He leaned in, close to your ear. “Follow the sound of my voice,” he whispered. “Find me.”

He carefully got up, walking around the bed, keeping his eyes on your form, only glancing at Seonghwa as he neared the door. He carefully opened it, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door until it was open only a sliver. He walked down the hall, the steps of his bare feet muffled against the wooden floor. He opened doors as he walked past, peering inside to find unused bedrooms.

He kept going until he found a set of stairs and descended them, finding more rooms to inspect. He found one to his liking and entered it, exploring as he waited for you to awaken from your slumber and find him. He left the room and made his way downstairs, entering a parlor of sorts. He examined the room as he made his way to the fireplace and with a click of his fingers, a fire started. He rounded the couch, opening a cabinet and grabbing a glass bottle to pour himself a glass of amber liquid.

He placed the stopper back on the decanter and grabbed the glass, taking a sip before he walked back around and sat down on the couch to wait for you to join him.

You were pulled from your slumber by a gentle caressing against your cheek. Though you were awake, you couldn’t open your eyes. A soft voice spoke to you, piercing the silence. “Follow the sound of my voice,” it whispered. “Find me.”

You awoke with a start as thunder crashed overhead, shaking the house. You glanced next to you, finding your husband fast asleep next to you. As you were about to sink back down into the bed, your eyes caught sight of a trail of wet footprints on the floor leading from the doors to the balcony to the bathroom. You pulled the sheets back, careful not to wake your husband until you were absolutely certain it was necessary. You slipped on your slippers, grabbing your robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on over your naked form.

Once at the bathroom door, you peered into the dark room, finding a dark blob on the tile floor. Approaching it cautiously, you knelt down and touched it. It was wet. You grabbed it and discovered it was a wet jacket. You found more wet clothes lying on the floor leading to the closet.

Standing up, you walked over, stepping into the closet where the light turned on. Save for the clothes, your closet was empty. You exited the room, the light shutting off as you headed back into the bedroom. You walked over to the double doors and checked the knob. It was locked. ‘How the hell did someone get in?’ you wondered as you turned and your eyes darted towards the bedroom door which was open a crack. You were certain Seonghwa had closed that before you went to bed.

You approached it cautiously, glancing at your sleeping husband. You contemplated waking him but you were a strong woman and capable of holding her own. You opened the door and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door behind you.

Your feet carried you down the hall, steps soft as you passed open doors and peered into the rooms beyond, finding them all empty. You went down the stairs to the next floor and followed the path of open doors until you reached the main floor.

As you reached the bottom landing, you heard soft music drifting through the house. You walked through the foyer, jumping slightly when lightning flashed through the windows and thunder rumbled the house. The rain had picked up and was now pouring. Your feet carried you closer and closer to the source of the music, following the same path you had earlier after your bath.

The door to the parlor was left ajar and you pushed it open further, peering into the room. Your eyes landed on a figure standing by the fireplace. He wore Seonghwa’s clothes but it was not your husband. He had caramel colored hair that was longer in the back, metal rings and studs decorated his ear, reflecting the dancing light of a fire that crackled in the fireplace. His face was obscured to you, turned towards the fire, one of the crystal glasses from the liquor cabinet in his hand, its contents an amber liquid that glowed in the firelight.

You entered the room slowly, keeping your eyes on the figure. Once you were inside, the figure’s head turned and your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping you. The hair was different but here was no mistaking that face. Those piercing eyes. The door behind you shut on its own and you backed against it in fear, staring as the figure stalked around the couch slowly, making their way towards you.

“It can’t be,” you whispered. “You can’t be here.”

The figure approached, downing the rest of the liquid in the glass, setting it on a table before he approached you. “Yet, here I am, darling,” he answered, his voice just the same as you remembered.

It had been nearly four years since you’d seen him last but there was no mistaking it.

Hongjoong had returned.

“We b-banished you,” you protested weakly as he neared you, placing his hands on either side of your head against the door, caging you in. “You’re supposed to be in hell,” you added as he stared down at you. “Am I?” he asked softly. “And what if this is a dream?” he asked softly.

One of his hands moved, taking note of the way you flinched. When he touched you, it was soft and gentle. He brushed his thumb over your exposed collar, swiping upwards and catching the collar of your robe, pulling it down past your shoulder. His eyes fell on the bite mark in your skin, a scar from Seonghwa when he was still a vampire.

“Is it a dream?” you asked softly. Hongjoong raised his eyes to meet your gaze. “Do you want it to be?” he asked, tilting his head as his hand moved, fingers skimming over the mark to your neck. You felt his fingertips curl around the back of your neck. “Do you want to dream about me?” he whispered, leaning in closer as he pressed himself against you, pressing you against the wooden door.

You turned your head away as he leaned in closer. His lips ghosted over your cheek. “If I’m supposed to be in hell, then there’s no way I can be here, right?” he asked into your ear, hand smoothing down your neck, over the silk of your robe.

“So it has to be a dream, right?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slid down over your chest, cupping your breast through the silk, feeling your naked body underneath. Your body reacted to his touch more than it should have, further confirming this was indeed a dream but if that was the case, why were you dreaming about Hongjoong of all people? Especially after four years.

“Do you want to wake up?” he asked in your ear as he parted your legs with his knee, pressing his thigh between yours. You could feel yourself growing wetting and wetter as he massaged your breast, lips skimming over your skin. “You could wake up, forget this ever happened and go back to sleep and the dream would be over,” he said softly, tongue slipping out.

You let out a soft groan as he licked up the side of your neck. “Or you can just enjoy the moment and give yourself to me. It’s only a dream,” he said with a hint of amusement. “What’s the worst that could happen?” You melted under his touch as his hand moved to your neck. “So what will it be?” he asked, lips ghosting over yours. “Wake up or enjoy it?”

“P-please,” you whimpered. “Do you want to wake up?” Hongjoong asked, fingers squeezing your throat gently. You shook your head, letting out a whimper as his eyes darkened. “Say it,” he urged. “Out loud.” You licked your lips, clearing your throat before speaking. “I-I don’t want to wake up yet.”

Hongjoong let out a sigh before taking your lips in a searing kiss, tongue immediately forcing inside your mouth. You gasped against his lips as his hands moved down to your thighs. He pulled back only slightly and quickly picked you up, pressing your back against the door as he kissed down your neck.

Without a word, he carried you over to the couch and sat down, setting you on his lap. He immediately pulled you back into a kiss one hand around your throat as the other worked to undo the knot of your robe. Once undone, Hongjoong pushed the material aside, exposing your skin to him.

He left a trail of wet kisses down your neck and collar, leaning you back as his lips traveled down between the valley of your breasts. He took one of your pert nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around it as he teased with light flicks and soft suckles.

Your head fell back, a moan leaving your lips as his hand moved to cup your other breast, gently massaging and kneading the soft flesh. He held you in place with one hand on your back. He let your nipple fall from his mouth, kissing back up to the junction of your neck and shoulder, nipping at the skin.

He carefully laid you down on the couch, ripping the robe from your body and tossing it aside as he hovered over you. Your thighs parted, allowing him to settle between them, putting his weight on you. “This feels so wrong,” you murmured as he kissed your skin, moving down your chest and stomach, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

“It’s just a dream,” he reminded you. “You can’t control what you dream about.”

Your legs spread as he drew level with your cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You moaned out, hands moving to his hair as his tongue made contact with your throbbing clit, lewd wet sounds coming from him as he licked and sucked, the cool steel ball of his piercing making your toes curl.

You writhed under him as he flicked his tongue against your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your arousal coated his lips as he ate you out like a man dying of starvation. Your thighs tried to close around his head but he refused, holding them open as he flattened his tongue against you. A cry escaped your lips as you came on his tongue.

Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he kissed back up your body, meeting your lips in a messy, rushed kiss. “On your knees, kitten,” he breathed out as he sat down on the couch, taking your hand and pulling you up into a sitting position. He undid his pants, pushing them down his hips and thighs and freeing his cock. You knelt beside him on the couch, waiting for his permission to touch him.

He pulled the shirt up and gestured for you to get started. You immediately took his cock in your hands, making him hiss. Leaning over, you let a drop of spit fall from your mouth, spreading it with your hand as you worked it up and down his shaft. Hongjoong reached up, grabbing the back of your neck. You looked up, meeting his gaze.

Without being prompted, you leaned over, taking the head of his cock in your mouth. Hongjoong’s head fell back against the couch, a groan leaving his lips as your head sank down on him. He kept his hand on the back of your neck, caressing gently as you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck that’s it,” he groaned. “Just like that, kitten.” You pulled back, sucking as you did before relaxing your jaw and starting to bob your head, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time, making a lewd wet gagging sound. Hongjoong’s hand moved up to the back of your head and pushed your head down gently, making you take more and more of him.

“Relax,” he whispered when his cock hit the back of your throat. “Just relax and let me in.”

You did as he asked, relaxing your throat and choking when you felt his cock slip into your throat. He allowed you to pull back but then pushed you back down. He guided your head, his hips starting to chase the feeling, thrusting into your mouth. “That’s it,” he growled. “Relax that jaw and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

Wet gags bounced off the walls as he thrust up into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. Drool spilled from your lips and down his shaft but he didn’t care as he continued to thrust into your mouth harder and harder, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, making you gag and choke.

He forced your head down, holding it there as he tried to hold back his orgasm. After a few moments of you gagging against him, he finally released you, letting you sit up, gasping for air as he removed the rest of his clothes. “Come here,” he said softly, taking your hand and guiding you to sit over him. He pushed your hips down, reaching between your bodies to guide the tip of his cock towards your entrance.

You sat down, sinking on his cock with a moan as he stretched your walls. Each inch felt like it took forever and when he was finally full inside you, your body was shaking. “Good girl,” Hongjoong murmured as he grabbed your hips, guiding your movements. You let out another moan as you lifted, his cock sliding out of you before sinking back down, setting a steady pace, bouncing on him at your own speed.

Hongjoong’s hands were everywhere, your hips, your chest, your ass, your neck. He couldn’t stop touching you. “Come on,” he urged, grabbing your ass. “I know you can go faster than that.” You moved faster, bouncing harder on his cock, your fingers digging into the couch cushion behind him. “That’s it,” Hongjoong groaned, his cock throbbing inside you.

“M’close,” you gasped over the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “Good,” Hongjoong growled, giving your ass a sharp smack. “Keep going until you’ve cum all over this cock like the filthy fucking slut I know you are,” he growled, thrusting up to meet your movements, making you cry out. “Come on, you dirty fucking whore. Cum for me. Cum on my cock while your husband sleeps upstairs.”

Seonghwa woke with a start, rain pounding against the roof and windows. ‘Just the storm,’ he told himself as he settled back against the bed. Instinctively, he reached for you but found your side of the bed empty. He raised his head and looked around. He expected to see light seeping from under the bathroom door but the door was open and it was dark.

He turned to look at the clock on his bedside table where the red digital numbers informed him it was well past three in the morning. Seonghwa sat up and pulled back the covers, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Now that he was up, he could see wet footprints on the wooden floor. He followed them back to the source and got up to inspect.

The bathroom was empty save for some wet clothes that he knew didn’t belong to him or you. There was an intruder in the house. He walked back to the door as lightning flashed, throwing the room into brightness before shadow overtook it again. Opening the cracked door, he peered out into the hallway. He walked down the corridor, inspecting the doors that had been left open but found no trace of you or an intruder in each one, shutting them as he went.

On the second floor, he found the same thing, more open doors yet still no trace of you or the intruder.

On the main floor, he inspected the kitchen and dining room but nothing seemed out of place. As he passed through the kitchen, he stopped at the counter, grabbing a knife from the knife block and continued on. As he entered one of the front halls, light spilled out of a room onto the floor.

He approached slowly, his grip on the knife tightening. He pushed the door open and found the room empty. There was a used crystal glass and a fire dancing in the fireplace. He looked around and found no one but as he rounded the couch, he found your silk robe lying on the floor. He picked it up and looked around once more.

There was a giggle behind him and the parlor door slammed shut. He set your robe down on the back of the couch and walked to the door, grabbing the knob and twisting it but the door didn’t budge. He tried again, tugging at the knob roughly but it still didn’t give. He hit the butt of the knife against the wood. “Open the door!” he yelled. “Let me out!”

He tried several more times to wrench the door open to no avail before he let go and stepped back, looking around the room. He headed over to the window and peered out into the rain where he saw a dark figure standing in front of the house in the middle of the circle drive. He squinted, trying to make out if it was you or not. Lightning flashed and lit up the area momentarily.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as the figure he saw shifted for a split second from a human into a hulking monstrous half man, half goat-like form. He nearly fell back but as soon as it happened, the figure was gone. He glanced around the yard but saw nothing else. He heard the door click and spun around to find the door cracked open.

He rushed over and yanked the door open, looking into the hall before he exited the room, following the hallway back to the entrance hall. He heard footsteps running on the balcony above and he darted for the stairs, running up. As he reached the second floor landing, he heard footsteps racing up the steps to the third floor.

He followed them, reaching the landing at the end of the hall opposite his and your shared bedroom. The door which he had left open was now shut. He approached slowly, keeping an eye out for any movement. As he reached the door, he took a deep breath and grabbed the knob, his grip on the knife handle in his hand tightening as he turned the knob.

The latch clicked and he carefully pushed the door open, the soft squeak breaking the silence. Seonghwa peered into the room, finding it empty, save for your figure on the bed. Seonghwa entered the room and shut the door quickly, locking it. He swept the whole room, from top to bottom, even checking the bathroom and closet but found no sign of an intruder.

As he exited the bathroom and moved around to his side of the bed, he sat down, setting the knife on his bedside table. He would remind himself to return it to the kitchen in the morning before you woke. He turned to look at you, peacefully asleep. As he was about to pull his feet up into the bed, there was a creak in the floor. Seonghwa felt his heart skip a beat. It came from directly under the bed.

Frozen in terror, Seonghwa was unable to move. He glanced at you, contemplating waking you up. As he moved his hand over the sheets to try and gently rouse you, he felt a strong pair of hands close around his ankles and tug, knocking him from the bed.

He let out a scream as he tried to free himself, kicking and trying to grab anything as whatever it was under the bed tried to drag him under. Seonghwa kicked himself free and scrambled away from the bed, crawling to the wall and sat gasping with his back against the wall. He could now see under the bed but there was nothing there. Lightning flashed again, the light gleaming off the blade of the kitchen knife.

Seonghwa glanced around before deciding to go for it. As he tried to get up, a figure appeared, rushing him and slamming him against the wall, a hand closing around his throat. Seonghwa cried out in pain and looked down at the figure, a wave of fear passing over him as he looked into the familiar face of the demon who had made his life a living hell centuries ago.

“It’s not possible!” Seonghwa choked out, struggling to free himself. “You’re supposed to be in hell!” Hongjoong smirked up at him, fingers tightening around Seonghwa’s throat. “Surprise,” he said in a dangerously low voice. “I’m back!”

Seonghwa kicked out, trying to free himself. Hongjoong tossed him aside easily and Seonghwa slid across the floor, his back hitting the foot of the bed. Hongjoong calmly followed as Seonghwa tried to crawl away but the demon was quicker, stepping over him and kneeling down, grabbing Seonghwa by the hair. Seonghwa let out a strangled cry as Hongjoong held the knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right here,” Hongjoong threatened. “It would be so easy. Kill you, steal your wife, turn her into my breeding bitch, and then eventually kill her,” he continued. “But I’m not going to do that.” Hongjoong threw the knife, the blade embedding into the wall by the door. He stood up, keeping a firm grip on Seonghwa’s hair and dragged him across the floor to a chair in the corner near the balcony doors. Hongjoong pulled him up, forcing him into the chair.

Seonghwa tried to get up but Hongjoong pushed him back down, grabbing one of the nearby curtains and ripped it down from the rod. He placed a foot on Seonghwa’s chest and kept him seated while he ripped the curtain into long pieces. One by one, he tied Seonghwa’s wrists and ankles to the chair. He ripped another piece from the curtain, tearing that in half. Part of it he wadded up and shoved into Seonghwa’s mouth before wrapping the other piece around his head, covering his mouth and tying it.

“There,” Hongjoong said as he stood back and admired his handiwork. “Now you’ll sit there and shut up.” Seonghwa tried to break free of his bonds but was unable to do so. Hongjoong turned, running his fingers through his hair. He approached the bed where you lay sleeping. Seonghwa screamed against his gag, thrashing violently. Hongjoong looked at him from beside you.

“Calm down or I’ll slit her throat right now,” Hongjoong ordered. Seonghwa stopped, falling silent. He watched as Hongjoong pulled back the sheets covering you, exposing your naked body. Seonghwa blinked away the tears that formed in his eyes. “Such a lucky man,” Hongjoong said, mocking Seonghwa’s earlier sentiments.

Seonghwa turned his head as Hongjoong stripped himself and climbed onto the bed. He wanted to scream, yell, fight, do something but he knew if he did, Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. He watched in horror as the demon repositioned your body. “You deserve a better view,” Hongjoong said, a smirk forming on his face. He hovered over you and Seonghwa pulled at his binds as Hongjoong’s hands ran over your body, skimming over your chest and up to your neck.

How desperately Seonghwa wanted to scream, threaten Hongjoong to not touch you. To get away from you. He was rendered helpless. Speechless. Useless. He watched as your body reacted but you stayed asleep. “Don’t worry about consent,” Hongjoong said, glancing over at Seonghwa. “She gave it to me earlier in the parlor.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he realized that he hadn’t been seeing things. You had been in the parlor. That’s why your robe was down there. “Just enjoy the show,” Hongjoong said before tearing his gaze away and Seonghwa could only watch helplessly as the demon kissed down your body, spreading your legs. “She’s already so wet,” Hongjoong groaned. He sat up, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and dragging your sleeping body down the bed towards him.

Seonghwa twisted against his bonds as Hongjoong took his cock in his hand, giving himself a few strokes before lining up with your entrance and pushing into you. The gasp and moan you let out made Seonghwa’s stomach churn and sink. It was the same sound you made when he sank into you for the first time.

Hongjoong let out a groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck,” he rasped. “This is what you get every night?” he asked, looking over to where Seonghwa sat, bound and gagged. “Lucky man, indeed.”

Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong’s hand gripped your hips, raising them up to rest your ass against his thighs as he thrust shallowly into you. Seonghwa blinked away the tears, turning to look away from the scene unfolding on his own bed in his own home. “If you don’t watch, I will force you and you really don’t want that,” Hongjoong growled.

Seonghwa took several deep breaths before forcing himself to look. “I should have done this before,” Hongjoong said as he kept the same steady pace, thrusting into you, small whimpers and moans leaving your lips. “Should have fucked your precious Blossom on that altar right in front of you. Impregnated her and sent her on her way. Let her raise my child alone.”

Seonghwa felt his blood boil as Hongjoong spoke. “Maybe I’ll do that now. Impregnate your wife and make you raise my child. Would you like that? You want a family so bad, right?” Hongjoong asked with a laugh. You let out a louder moan. Hongjoong pulled out of you, gently rolling you onto your stomach. He grabbed your hips, tucking a pillow under it before sinking back into you.

“Is this how you fuck her?” he asked Seonghwa who could no longer hold back the tears. “You bend her over like this and fuck her until you fill her up? She likes it rough, doesn’t she?” he asked. Seonghwa glared at Hongjoong and if looks could kill, Hongjoong would probably be dead.

He let out another laugh, picking up the pace as he pounded into you. Wanton moans left your lips as his cock pistoned in and out of your abused hole. “Bet she likes it when you stuff her full of cum,” Hongjoong grunted as he placed a hand on the back of your head, pushing your head down into the linens. “Likes it when you empty your balls into her. Do you talk to her while you do it? Tell her how you’re gonna fill her up and put a baby in her?” Hongjoong asked, his hips slamming into you now.

“Do you cum multiple times? Fill her up as much as possible? Until it leaks out of her and spills down the inside of her thighs? Do you hold her down and tell her to take all of it?” Seonghwa blinked, tears streaming down his cheeks and staining the torn curtain that was his makeshift gag.

“I wonder why she isn’t pregnant yet,” Hongjoong mused as he continued to thrust into you, holding you down as his hips bruised your ass with each forceful thrust. “Maybe you’re not as fertile as you once were,” he continued. “Maybe you need my sperm to start a family.”

Seonghwa twisted in the chair as Hongjoong continued. Your moans grew in pitch as Hongjoong pounded into you. His hand disappeared under your head and pulled you up out of the sheets. “Let him hear you, blossom,” Hongjoong said breathlessly in your ear. Seonghwa struggled against the bonds. “Let him hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Without the sheets to muffle you, moans and screams of pleasure left your lips. “That’s right,” Hongjoong growled as he slammed into you. “I’m making you feel this good. Not him. Has he ever made it feel this good?” Seonghwa thrashed against his bonds. “Oh, I think I’m gonna cum,” Hongjoong groaned into your ear. “You want it inside you, kitten? Want me to fill you up just like he does?”

You moaned loudly as Hongjoong’s hips never faltered. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear. “Cum for me. Show him what you look like when you cum on another man’s cock.”

Seonghwa watched through tears as your body shook, your orgasm washing over you, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips before your body went limp. Hongjoong kept a tight hold on you, his hips now chasing his own high. Seonghwa watched defeatedly as Hongjoong thrust into you a few more times before letting out a low moan, hips stilling as he came, filling you and painting your walls in his release.

His tears hadn’t stopped as Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts, pushing his cum deeper inside you before he pulled out, letting your limp body fall onto the bed, your slumber never once breaking. Hongjoong stumbled off the bed, making his way over to where Seonghwa sat. He crouched down, looking up at Seonghwa as his head hung in defeat, tears still spilling from him.

Hongjoong stood up and grabbed Seonghwa by the hair, pulling his head back to look up at him. “It’s not that bad,” Hongjoong said as he untied the gag and pulled the wet strip of curtain from his face. Seonghwa spat out the wadded up piece of cloth and glared up at the demon. “You’re fucking despicable,” he snapped. “Truly and utterly disgusting.”

Hongjoong smirked as he leaned down, bringing his face level with Seonghwa’s. “Am I?” he asked. He glanced down. “If I’m disgusting, what does that make you?” he asked, his hand moving over the erection in Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa tried to squirm away from the demon. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he spat. Hongjoong’s grip on his hair tightened. “Behave,” the demon hissed.

Seonghwa stopped fighting and went rigid as Hongjoong’s hand ghosted over his hard cock. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Hongjoong asked, looking into Seonghwa’s eyes. “Watching me fuck your wife. You really liked it,” he said, his hand slipping into Seonghwa’s pants. Seonghwa squirmed under him as Hongjoong’s hand gripped him over his underwear.

“Do you want me to relieve you or do you want her to do it?” Hongjoong asked. “Actually,” the demon said. He let go of Seonghwa and moved to the bed, leaning over to whisper something in your ear. Seonghwa watched as you started to stir, rolling onto your side and crawling to the edge of the bed. Hongjoong helped you off the bed and guided you over to where Seonghwa sat.

“On your knees, kitten,” Hongjoong instructed. You did as he said almost as if you were in a trance. “Here, let’s get this out of the way,” Hongjoong said, grabbing the waistband of Seonghwa’s pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, watching as Seonghwa’s erection sprang free.

“Oh, there’s more to you than meets the eye,” Hongjoong said with a chuckle as he eyed Seonghwa. Tearing his gaze away and knelt behind you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “That looks uncomfortable,” he said, gently caressing your cheek. “We should relieve him. Open your mouth, kitten.” Seonghwa looked away as you did so. Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair as he guided your head towards Seonghwa’s cock.

Seonghwa let out a strangled moan as he felt your mouth envelope his cock. Hongjoong kept a firm hold on your head, pushing you down on Seonghwa’s cock. “Open your throat,” Hongjoong instructed. “Just like you did for me. Let him in, baby.” Seonghwa glared at the demon. “Don’t you fucking call her that,” he growled, an involuntary moan leaving his lips as his cock slid into your throat.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong asked. He guided your head, fucking Seonghwa’s cock with your mouth. “Keep going, sweetheart. He likes it. He really likes it,” he continued, smirking at Seonghwa’s reaction. “F-fuck,” Seonghwa cursed, head falling back against the chair.

“More?” Hongjoong asked. Without waiting for his answer, Hongjoong forced your head to move faster. Seonghwa groaned, hips bucking up into your face. Hongjoong held your head still. “Go ahead,” Hongjoong said. “Fuck her face. She loved it when I did that.” Seonghwa shook his head. “No,” he said breathlessly. “Do it,” Hongjoong urged. Seonghwa refused again, shaking his head. “No. I won’t.”

The demon’s brow furrowed as he pushed your head down, forcing Seonghwa’s cock into your throat. “Either you fuck her mouth or I’ll take over and make you cum myself.” Seonghwa groaned and reluctantly did as he said, hips bucking up into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Hongjoong held your head in place as Seonghwa chased his own high, letting out strained moans and whimpers until he let out a strangled groan. Hongjoong pushed your head down, Seonghwa cock sliding into your throat as he came, his cock twitching, his release spilling down your throat.

Hongjoong held you still as Seonghwa’s hips bucked weakly until he fell limp. Only then did Hongjoong pull you back, muttering praise in your ear as you coughed and gasped. He guided you back to the bed before moving to pick up the clothes he’d taken from the closet. Once he was dressed he walked over to where Seonghwa sat and slowly undid his bonds.

“Consider us even,” Hongjoong said as he dropped the torn bits of curtain to the floor. He walked over to the balcony door, glancing out into the rain. He could see glowing red eyes out in the trees and knew the hounds had found him. “One last thing,” he said over his shoulder as he undid the latch on the doors and turned the knob, opening one, the sound of rain becoming louder.

“Take care of your family.”

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

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unknowntoyou2205 · 2 months ago

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Christmas Tears

Anthony Bridgerton x wife reader

Info: Y/n used to love the festive holidays, but this year she loses something special

Warnings: child loss, grief

Anthony and Y/n Bridgerton had been together for nearly a year now. During last season they had met, y/n’s family had travelled back home to be with her grandmother after her grandpa’s death, and it had been the first year y/n was introduced to society. As a 20 year old woman she was known as an old woman, nearly old enough to be a spinster. But her father was adamant that his only daughter wasn’t going to wind up with that title, so had put together a list of suitable men for y/n to meet.

Anthony Bridgerton hadn’t been on that list, but for some reason his younger brother Colin had. With y/n’s father having an interest in travelling, the third oldest Bridgerton had caught his eye, and therefore the two had been introduced. Neither Colin or y/n had an interest in each other, but had become close friends. They would often pomegrade around the town with y/n’s handmaid, and one day the viscountess had offered the y/l/n family an invitation to dinner, which was where Anthony and y/n had officially meet.

It was butterflies from the start for y/n, and Anthony had felt a shook when he took y/n’s hand, bringing it up to kiss it gently. Violet could tell by the look on her oldest face that he was smitten for the girl, and had advised Colin to get the two to sit together. For the duration of the night, Anthony showed great interest for the young woman, and asked any questions from her hobby to what she wanted in the future. At first her father wasn’t impressed, but when he seen the look the two mothers gave each other, he found himself second guessing which Bridgerton boy he thought best for his daughter. Despite wanting her to marry for society, y/f/n also wanted her to have some form of love within that marriage, just as he and y/m/n had. It was to Colins relief when her father told him abruptly that he wasn’t suitable for his daughter, and Benedict was more than happy to tell Anthony about that conversation.

It wasn’t long until Anthony asked for y/n’s hand from her father. He had visited her on the daily, and when the two families were out he would escort y/n around, much to the dismay of those who watched on. Anthony asked the question on one of their walks, stopping in the middle of the path as he took both of y/n’s hands, facing her as he smiled at her. She blushed as he held everyone behind them up, but he didn’t care about any of that, his attention solely on y/n. Their mothers hugged each other in delight as they watched the eldest Bridgerton ask the only daughter to marry him, while his father coughed to hid his emotions, shaking Anthony’s hand.

Now, in the cold December weather, the newest Bridgerton couple had joy on their doorsteps. Three months after their wedding, the new Viscountess had learnt that she had become with child. Anthony had been overjoyed with the news, and had grown protective of y/n from the moment they conceived. Y/n had known that her mother found it difficult to conceive, which was why she was an only child, and she had been scared that the same thing would happen to her. So when the doctor confirmed that she was indeed carrying a child, she was ecstatic, wasting no time telling her husband the news.

“Y/n, dear, what is it?” Anthony had asked when his wife had barged into his office without so much of a knock. “Anthony, I am with child.” Y/n grinned ear to ear as she said it out loud. “You are certain?” Anthony asked, not believing his ears. “Yes, it isn’t just the bug I had.” Y/n cried joyfully, putting her hands around Anthony’s neck. Anthony laughed in joy as he placed his hands on her cheeks to wipe away the tears before pulling her into his arms. “What on earth is all this about?” Benedict asked, seeing his brother and new sister buzzing with excitement. “Call mother, we have some exciting news.” Anthony told his brother, and y/n smiled as Benedict rushed off. “We are to be parents.” Y/n called out gleefully as Violet came into Anthony’s office with Benedict and Colin behind her. “Oh this is wonderful news.” Violet exclaimed, moving to take the new Viscountess in her arms. “Congratulations brother.” Benedict smiled, shaking her brothers hand. “Does this mean we should leave?” Colin asked jokingly, only for Anthony to laugh as Colin pulled him into a hug. “Oh I promise I will be out of your hair as soon as I can.” Violet stated to y/n as she kept a hold of her hands. “I assure you there is no rush for anyone to leave. It is a delight to be around such a large family.” Y/n smiled at each of the Bridgerton present, Anthony placing a hand on her shoulder.

---

The months of y/n’s pregnancy flew by quickly. The Bridgerton family were excited for the newest addition, and going by the couples maths, the baby would be due sometime in December. Y/n had always enjoyed Christmas, so having her first born during her favourite time of year made her feel all warm and fuzzy. Yet when December came, the couple felt underprepared. Both y/n and Anthony’s mothers had bombarded the couple with gifts for the baby, and y/n’s father had helped Anthony when it came to the nursery. The couple refused to let the help do the nursery for them, wanting to enjoy the troubles that came with the joy. Y/n had just stood laughing at her father and husband as they put together the wooden crib, while her mother helped her prepare the clothing the babe would wear.

The Christmas tree had been placed in the family room, and y/n admired the twinkling lights that shone on it. The odd ornaments that had been part of the Bridgerton family were littered along the branches, with one new addition for the new Viscountess. Y/n smiled as Hyacinth and Gregory ran around it, holding her swollen baby as she imagined what it would be like with her own children in the years to come. Anthony walked into the room to see her beautiful wife lounging on the sofa, and he smiled as he jumped down beside her, causing y/n to hit his knee in mock anger.

“Anthony Bridgerton, please be careful.” Y/n scolded her husband, before cupping his chin as he pecked her lips. “I do apologize my love.” Anthony smirked at her, pecking her lips again before wrapping an arm over her shoulder. “Will the baby come tomorrow?” Hyacinth asked, looking at the couple on the couch. “I don’t know Hyacinth, only they can decide that.” Y/n smiled at her little sister. “I don’t think I’d like that, a birthday on Christmas day.” Gregory scrunched his nose at the thought. “I think it would be a lovely gift to have them come on Christmas.” Anthony mused, placing a hand on y/n’s swollen stomach. “Your not the one that’ll be going through hardship my love. I would rather have no pain tomorrow.” y/n smiled, wanting to enjoy their first and last Christmas as the two of them. “You soon forget the hardship once you see their little face.” Violet explained as she came into view of her children. “Still , I would enjoy a quiet Christmas with my love.” Y/n smiled, looking up at Anthony. “I like the sound of that.” Anthony smiled, leaning down to kiss his wife softly. “Perhaps we should let your brother and love be children. After all they need all the rest they can get before the joys of parenthood begins.” Violet spoke to her two children, ushering them out of the room before closing the door behind them.

----

The night was cold as y/n walked around the grounds in her house gown. She had felt some twinges and had decided to take a walk outside to see if the cool air would help. Miraculously Anthony hadn’t woken up as she moved, so she got out in peace without Anthony trying to keep her inside. She had seen the clock on her way out, and couldn’t help the smile on her face when she seen it was past twelve. She could see the street lights still shining, and smiled at the sight before jumping when a voice was heard from behind her.

“You should be asleep my love.” Anthony mused, walking over to y/n with his coat hung over his arm. “couldn’t sleep, thought the fresh air would help.” Y/n hummed, rolling her eyes as she felt Anthony drape his coat over her shoulders. “It’s too cold for you to be out here.” Anthony spoke, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I’m with child, not fragile.” Y/n stated, moving to lean against her husband’s chest. “Still, I’d hate for you to be sick on Christmas day.” Anthony stated, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be fine.” Y/n spoke.

The couple stayed in each other’s arms, enjoying their time together. Y/n snuggled into her husbands body, enjoying the comfort she felt in his arms. Feeling his wife leaning heavier on him, Anthony wiggled his fingers along her side to tickle her.

“Anthony stop.” Y/n giggled, trying to get away from him. “Let’s go back to bed. Hyacinth and Gregory will soon be waking us up.” Anthony stated, smiling down at his wife. “Merry Christmas my love.” Y/n smiled. “Merry Christmas y/n” Anthony grinned, knowing how much y/n enjoyed Christmas.

Y/n allowed Anthony to guide her back into the house. It was weird moving in such a quiet house, with voices always haunting the halls during the day. The Viscount and Viscountess began to make their way up the stairs, however, y/n found herself barely able to move when she felt the twinges coming back. Grabbing Anthony’s arm, she came to a stop to catch her breath. Feeling her grip tighten, Anthony looked down at his wife before her knees buckled under her.

“Oww.” Y/n winched, holding her stomach in one hand as she held Anthony’s in the other as she fell. “y/n, what is it my love.” Anthony asked, panicked by the clear pain his wife was feeling. “It hurts.” Y/n whimpered, allowing Anthony to slide his arm around her as he crouched down beside her. “What’s wrong?” Anthony asked. “I don’t know.” Y/n cried, digging her nails into Anthony’s arm. “Help, somebody help.” Anthony called out, not wanting to leave her wife’s side. “Anthony.” Y/n cried, moving to lean her head against his chest. “I know. Somebody please.” Anthony yelled, and then movement was heard.

The next few moments were quick. Multiple handmaids came to the Viscounts aid. With strict instructions to bring his love to their room, a door man was ordered to go for the midwife and inform y/n’s family o while others grabbed water and towels. Multiple doors opened, but Anthony ignored them as he made his way to their bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Violet asked, moving to the closest person. “The viscountess has gone into labour ma’m.” The woman spoke, bowing her head. “Oh Lord.” Violet exclaimed, rushing to help. “What’s happening?” A tired Benedict yawned as he walked out of his room. “Get Colin and take Hyacinth and Gregory to the far rooms. It’s time.” Violet spoke quickly to her son before running to aid her eldest.

---

Screams filed the once quiet halls as Anthony paced along the halls, anxious of what was to come. After some convincing from his mother, Anthony had left the room when the midwife arrived, leaving hm out of the woods of what was happening. He closed his eyes as he listened to his loves screams of pain, praying for it all to be over quickly.

Violet and y/n’s mother were standing each side of the bed, holding y/n’s hands as they coaxed the girls breathing. Sweat covered the viscountess’s forehead, and her eyes had grown tired from all the pain and pushing. The midwife stood at the bottom of the bed, watching for the babes head to appear, but it was a struggle. Y/n had been in labour for the best of an hour, and there was no sign of the babies head.

“Y/n, I’m going to try and feel for the babies head.” The midwife explained, and y/n’s mother looked down at the midwife. “I can’t do it mama, I can’t.” Y/n cried, jumping in discomfort as the midwife done what needed to be done. “Yes you can sweetheart, just think, your baby will soon be in your arms.” Her mother smiled down, pushing back the hair from y/n’s face. “Alright y/n, the baby’s cord is wrapped around the neck so I’m gonna need you to push for me when you feel the need to, as hard as you can.”

Y/n looked up at the two mothers who gripped her hand tightly, nodding at her that it’ll all be okay. She was growing tired, and she just wanted it to be over. Feeling the next contraction, she screamed as she pushed, feeling nothing but pain.

“That’s it y/n, your doing so well. I see their head. Keep going.” The midwife spoke. “Good girl, that’s it.” Y/n’s mother commented, smiling as she kept pushing her daughters hair back in comfort.

Y/n’s screaming came to a stop, causing silence to fill the room. Anthony looked to the door, hoping for someone to come tell him what was going on. Inside, y/n cried in relief as Violet and y/m/n squeezed her hand, comforting her.

“You done so well y/n.” Violet stated, taking a towel to wipe the girls face from sweat. “I’m so proud of you.” Her mother stated with a smile, before looking down where the midwife was working on the baby. “Why aren’t they crying?” Y/n asked, knowing that usually a babe would be screaming. “Ma’m, what’s happening?” Y/n’s mother asked, already having an idea. “They should be crying. Why aren’t they crying? What’s wrong with my baby?” Y/n cried out, begging to know what was going on. “You had a baby boy.” The midwife spoke softly, and the three women looked her way. “Why can’t I see him?” Y/n asked, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” The midwife spoke sorrowfully, and y/n began to scream. “No.” Y/n screamed, “Please.” “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so so sorry.” Y/n’s mother grabbed her daughter, allowing her to cling to her. “Anthony.” Y/n screamed in sorrow, wanting her husband.

Anthony looked up in terror as he heard y/n screaming his name. His heart thumped in his chest as he moved towards the door. Not caring about whether or not he should go in, he burst through the door. He froze when he seen what was in front of him. Y/n was in her mothers arms, screaming and crying as her mother attempted to soothe her. The midwife was cleaning y/n up and his mother turned to him before placing a hand on y/n’s back and walking towards him.

“What’s happened?” Anthony asked, seeing the tears in his mothers eyes as y/n could be heard screaming and crying in the background. “Anthony, I’m so sorry.” Violet spoke softly to her son, placing her hands on his arms. “What?” Anthony asked, looking at his mother in horror. “The baby… he didn’t survive.” Violet explained, before wrapping her arms around Anthony.

Anthony clung to his mother as they both fell. They’re baby was gone before it even had the chance to survive.

----

Christmas morning was a sour one for the Bridgerton family. While Hyacinth and Gregory were blissfully unaware of what was going on, they ran around, playing with their presents. The adults sat in the family room, staring into space. Violet had told Benedict, Colin and Eloise about the loss of the baby. The family were in shock, not sure what to do.

After the midwife left the family to mourn, y/n’s mother left after kissing the Viscount and Viscountess on the head. Anthony had moved straight over to his wife, climbing on the bed as she continued to scream in sorrow. Shedding his own tears, he kissed her head as he rocked her. Neither of them moved from the room, and no one went to see them.

At dinner time, Violet asked y/n’s handmaid to try get the couple down to eat something. While the children dug into the turkey, ham and trimmings, the adults remained in their seats, waiting to see if the couple came. They held their breaths when they heard footsteps, and soon two drained and tired figures came into light. Anthony kept an arm around his wife, and only moved from her when Benedict and Colin stood up, moving to comfort the couple. Benedict allowed y/n to fall into his arms as Anthony threw his arms around Colin. Violet looked down with tearful eyes, and Eloise could only watch in shock.

“Why?” Y/n cried, breaking the families hearts, “Why?” causing Anthony to bury his head on his younger brothers shoulder to hid the tears.

#anthony bridgerton x wife reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton family x reader #bridgerton family #bridgerton

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b2cute · 11 months ago

Text

After Hours | Matt Sturniolo

authors notes: hi guys! i’ve been really busy but i want to try to be more active on this app because i love you guys so much! reminder that requests are open!

warnings: y/n (don’t kill me), fem reader, she/her pronouns, pet names, sex, no pull out, wrap before u tap!!!!, cussing?, lmk if i miss anything

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

It was 12:40 am and Matt still hadn’t arrived to pick me up from my friend's house. I was there all day and the night before, helping her prep for a big final coming up at our university. We met each other at a bar freshman year and now spend our late teenage years together. I found Matt through her when she invited me to her birthday party early into our friendship. I got to meet Nathan, a close friend of Matt’s and later found Matt because of him. Through the years of my relationship with Matt, we share plenty of memories and stories. He is sweet and takes good care of me. It took time for him to open up to me which is something I found interesting considering his now bubbly persona. Matt would start by shaking my hand and guiding me to his car. Now, he sprints to me and picks me up like a feather while carrying me to the car for our weekly dates.

Considering our different lifestyles, it's hard for me and Matt to see each of her as much as we desire. His love for YouTube and my constant studying made it impossible to get alone time, so when we were together he made the most out of it. For others, Matt is kind and shy with a friendly personality, but for me… well it's safe to say he hates my guts after hours.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Yeah just like that” she screams out. Her face was shoved into the plush silk pillows in his room. The lights were dim and the only sounds were y/n’s moans and slapping through the bedroom, maybe even the whole house. Matt continues pounding into her like there's no tomorrow. Even though she couldn't remember how many times she finished, y/n was still feigning for more. The way her tight walls hugged Matt's thick member made the two weak for each other. “Gonna be a good girl and give me a couple more right baby?” the sweaty brunette calls out. His figure was almost invisible in the room with nothing but a dark silhouette showing his lean body.

Matt continued fucking himself onto y/n, she couldn't take it anymore. Her body became numb and her legs gave out a long ago now being held by Matt's tattooed arm that snakes throughout her waist as he slowly bent down to place harsh kisses onto the girl's back. “Please mmph… can't take it anymore” the girl cried out. She was attempting to crawl away from the boy when she suddenly felt her body shift. Matt turned her limp body around so her head was on the back of the pillows. “You got it, almost done love just hang on” he grunts. Matt brings his arms to the backs of y/n’s thighs and lifts them back to her knees. The new angle brought a wave of pleasure as his head kissed her g-spot over and over. “Matt oh my g-god!” she moans out but the boy tuned her out long ago, only focusing on making her finish.

He slowed down his pace, pulling out until just the tip was in her, then slamming back in, repeating this over and over. Soft groans escaped the boy's lips as he held onto the girl, not letting her leave the state she was in.

“Matt seriously, no more” she cried out, “I'm done.” This only made Matt needier, bringing a hand lower to her puffy clit, rubbing hard circles with the pads of his fingers, occasionally leaving a light slap. Y/n jerked up from the pleasure, holding onto the boy's hair as a familiar knot in her stomach formed for the 3rd time. “C-close” she warned the boy as her eyes screwed shut from the sensation she felt. “M’ too, come with me babe” the boy growled fastening his pace. He left out numerous amount of thrusts before releasing his sticky seed inside y/n’s swollen cunt. “Matt!” y/n screams out, her back leaving the mattress as her hands grip the silky sheets underneath her. She squirmed underneath the boy and created the perfect “O” shape on her mouth. A series of cusses left Matt’s mouth as he panted hard after coming.

Trying to not hurt her, Matt slowly pulled out, the sight of their releasing oozing out of the girl. Wasting no time, Matt dips his head down legs y/n’s legs shoving the muscle in his mouth into her. “Too sensitive!” she cries out, her hands finding a home in his damp hair trying to pull him away. “Can't leave a mess, can we? Nick and Chris will notice” he smirks before diving back in. His tongue dances around the girl's cunt, cleaning everything up before light sucking her swollen clit. Y/n was a moaning mess, moving around and squirming at every little touch. When Matt felt satisfied, he pulled away, leaving one last kiss on her pussy and standing up.

The girl was lying down on the bed, her body almost paralyzed. Matt stood up, walked into the bathroom, and grabbed a damp towel to clean up anything left behind. After throwing it away, he went into the bed pulling Y/n into his arms, kissing the top of her head. He could feel her heart beating out her chest and he stroked her hair. “I love you, baby, you did so good for me” he cooed, planting kisses on her forehead. The girl let out a soft hum as she drifted into bed. Not being able to sleep, Matt grabbed his phone to see 40+ notifications from his group chat with Nick and Chris.

| For god's sake please shut the fuck up

| Matt you hooligan I can hear you over my music

| I give up.

The boy let out a soft laugh before shutting his phone off and bringing y/n closer to his chest, slowly drifting off to bed himself.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist:

@mqttittude @luverboychris @knowingnothingnoel @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsdinosweater @n00dl3zzz @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo o @mattsleftnipple03 @gracealwaysdisgrace @guccifrog @hearts4chriss @sttzee @stunza @fawned01 @sillysillygyal @skyslondon @stu2719962 @domaniquessidehoe @junnniiieee07

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suzukiblu · 15 days ago

Text

Day two of February’s third weekly WIP behind the cut; “interdimensional kidnapping via Robin”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon cries a lot harder; hard enough he clearly can’t talk past it, hard enough to shake with it, and like–he’s not a small kid, honestly. He’s the smallest that Tim’s ever seen a version of Kon, yes, but he’s pretty big for his physiological age. Which, like–not surprising that he would be, really. He’s definitely in the expected top percentile for a ten year-old, if not over the expected top percentile. Tim would put him somewhere between 4’10” and 5’ and at probably a good hundred pounds or so, which puts him maybe nine to seven inches shorter than Tim himself is and maybe, like, forty-five or fifty pounds lighter. So . . . about seventy percent of his own body weight, give or take. And Tim probably has a concussion and at least a couple broken ribs, and definitely has plenty of cuts and abrasions and bruises deep enough that he doesn’t even want to think about how long it’s going to be until he’s field-ready again.

He doesn’t do goddamn Bat-level training to not be able to pick up and carry a crying kid no matter what condition he’s personally in, though.

Tim scoops Kon up into his arms and the kid makes a startled little noise about it that cracks through one of his sobs, then grabs the front of his suit just next to the “R” decal tight enough that the body armor creaks and buies his face in his neck to cry even harder. He doesn’t hold onto him any more than that, but he’s still as close to clinging to him as he can get.

Well–no, his TTK is definitely clinging to him, whether his actual physical body is or not.

Tim wonders exactly how many times this kid’s been held by someone–at least how many times that he remembers being held by someone, anyway–but all things considered is pretty sure he wants the answer to be “none”. If Luthor really is the only person that this version of Kon remembers ever having been touched by . . .

Yeah. Tim definitely wants the answer to be “none”, ugly as that thought is.

“S-sorry,” Kon gasps brokenly into his neck. “M’sorry, m’s-sorry, I d-don’t–I dunno why, I–I can’t s-s-stop, I–”

“It’s alright, kid,” Tim says, and doesn’t let his voice get any tighter. Really, it’s impressive Kon didn’t fall apart sooner. Or . . . depressing, maybe. “I’m just gonna carry you for a bit now. Just tell me if you want down, okay?”

“I don’t,” Kon sobs, his TTK going tight. “Don’t put me down, don’t–please.”

“Okay,” Tim says, and fucking hates Lex Luthor.

He walks the rest of the way to the marina with Kon curled up in his arms and crying into his neck; digging his fingers into his body armor and his TTK into all of his bruises. Tim might need to do some repairs on the armor later but is really not concerned about it right now. It’s just a footnote to take care of before he tries to go on patrol in this specific suit again, that’s all. It already needed some fixing up anyway, after spending seventy-six hours going through the wringer in a reality that shitty.

Also, like, he guesses he needs some fixing up after that too, admittedly.

#tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: interdimensional kidnapping via robin #past child abuse

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owliellder · 2 years ago

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

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sweetdispatch · 4 months ago

Text

Memories - M. Rempe

Songs masterlist song: Memories - Conan Gray pairing: Matt Rempe x ex girlfriend!reader summary: Matt broke up with her out of nowhere. Now he wants to repay the damage. Will she let him? warning: none note: getting super close to end of the series☹️

She and Matt were a perfect match. They met in Seattle when both were 17 and since then, they’d been together. He loved how she got along with his family and she loved how caring and loving he was. For the next couple years, everything was going smoothly and despite their young age, they imagined their future together.

It all changed when Matt had to move to Hartford. She didn’t want to drop her life and go with him on the other side of the country. Her whole life was in Seattle and she wanted it to stay like that, at least until she graduates in college. He understood this and they agreed to on long distance relationship.

Everything went down right after New Year's Eve. Matt became cold towards her. She couldn’t understand what went wrong and tried to talk with him. She flew to Connecticut to confront him. What she hadn't expected was the fact that she’s about to come back home single and heartbroken. He just ended things with her without any proper reasoning.

That’s just about enough time

For me to stop crying when I look at all the pictures

It’s been six months since Matt broke up with her. It was a difficult time for her. He was her first love. They’ve been together for four years and he just decided to throw out their relationship just because. She still didn’t know why he had done it. She was questioning herself and truly believed that she was the problem.

She cried herself to sleep every night. She was mourning over their relationship. Her friends tried to help her to forget about him but she couldn't. After half of a year, she finally felt like she had control over her life again. When someone mentioned him, she didn’t cry. She just shrugged her shoulders. It was still hurtful for her, but she moved on.

I open up that door, see your brown eyes at the entrance

After graduation, she decided to change her apartment. This one brought her too many memories about Matt. It was a chilly June day when she was packing her things into boxes. She heard knocking on her door and thought one of her friends came to help her. What she hadn't expected was Matt standing in front of her with roses.

She froze on the spot. She hadn't knew how to react. She thought that she would never see him again yet Matt was standing in the entry, hopeful that she will let him in. He snapped her out of the trance when he asked if he can come in. She moved so he could enter her apartment. He was surprised to see all the boxes. Still, she hasn't said a word to him. She hadn’t had anything to say to him.

I wish that you would stay in my memories

Matt tried to give her flowers but she crossed her arms on her chest. He started apologising her. He said how much he missed her and how miserable his life is without her. She hadn’t said anything. He was having a monologue but still, he was speaking to her and tried to convince her to say anything back. She started crying while he was explaining himself.

All the memories came back to her. When Matt was talking it felt so natural, just like it was before they broke up, when he was rambling after coming back from games. It hurt her. He opened her wound in heart that he left which she had healed by now. She hated it. As much as she loved him, she didn’t want to see or hear from him ever again.

I can’t be your friend, can’t be your lover

Matt stopped talking. He was looking at her and waited for her move. She took a deep breath before she spoke. She threw all her pain at him and how she felt unwanted and unlovable by the way he ended things between them. Now he was the one who started crying. He never thought how much he hurt her. He regretted it and asked her if they could be at least friends.

She laughed at him. She never thought that Matt could be so bold to ask this stupid question. As much as she wanted it, she knew that the right call was to completely cut him off. She felt that if they became friends, it would turn into a relationship. She didn’t need this mess again. He was pleading with her but she was stubborn and put herself in the first place.

I guess I’ll let you stay

For as long as it takes

To grab your books and your coat

After she told him that this is over, she returned to packing. Matt asked if he can at least help her and then he will leave her forever, on what she agreed. When he started gathering things from the drawer, she stopped him. She told him that he can help her but by picking up his things. She didn’t want to have anything related to him.

Matt listened to her and started from his books. All the memories came to him when he was reading her those books so she could fall asleep. Later he went to her bathroom and took his cosmetics. He was surprised that she still kept them, certain, that she threw them away when he broke up with her. After that, he went to her bedroom to clean his nightstand. It was untouched. There was still their picture from prom on which he used to look every night before going to sleep. He smiled seeing how happy they were.

At the end, Matt went to her wardrobe. He opened it and saw only his clothes. He was standing in front of it when she came through the door and told him that she cleaned it from her clothes and only his are left. The amount of his t-shirts and hoodies made him sad. He loved seeing her in his clothes. They were too big for her but she looked so hot walking around in them. He missed this view.

When Matt grabbed all his things, he looked at her hoping that she had changed her mind. This hadn’t happened. She thanked him for the help and joked that he saved her the money from sending those things to him. He sadly smiled at her and said final goodbye. The minute he left, she started crying. His presence felt normal to her but she knew it’s the only option for her. She needed to protect herself from being hurt again by him.

#matt rempe #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe fanfiction #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe oneshot #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #new york rangers #hartford wolfpack #v' work

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femdomlieeh · 1 year ago

Text

Crown (m)

Sub!Heeseung (ENHYPEN) x Dom!F!Reader

WC—5.8 ✧ k

WARNING—bathtub sex ✧ role-play (lovers/ gf & bf) ✧ blindfolding (m) ✧ stripping (m) ✧ unprotected sex (be safe yall!) ✧ piv ✧ light S&M ✧ dacryphilia (m) ✧ body worship (m) ✧ nipple play (m!r) ✧ light spanking (m!r) ✧ breath play (m!r) ✧ lingerie (f) ✧ teasing (m!r) ✧ thigh kink ✧ tattoo kink (?) ✧ brief begging ✧ biting (m!r) ✧ praise (f!g) ✧ marking (f!g) ✧ pet names (mami, prince, baby)

THEMES—smut ✧ best friend au ✧ fwb for one night agreement ✧ a little angsty

NOW PLAYING—imagine ✧ Ariana Grande

A/N. This is actually my favourite smut I’ve posted so far so I hope you enjoy!

Old Seungwoo version

M.LISTS—enhypen ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

✦ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

Valentine’s Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

Couples could finally do PDA and have people cooing at them in either cuteness or jealousy, but never disgust because PDA was allowed on Valentine's Day.

People could finally have an excuse to do something special for someone, like making a grand romantic gesture or even proposing.

It was supposed to be that way, right?

I was going to have a corny day together with my boyfriend of three years, Yeonjun. Every single detail all the way from the restaurant to the hotel room had been thought out by me, because – not only am I romantic – I always like to be prepared.

Not to sound cocky or to flatter myself, but the plan was so good even I was impressed with it.

Except not everything went to plan.

My lover decided to break up with me one month before the awaited day. One month before Valentine's Day! Only two weeks into the new year! He had "grown out of love" as he'd said. Guess one of his New Year's resolutions was to break up with me.

My parents had met him and accepted him — which said a lot, since they've always had high standards and never liked any of my previous lovers — so it was safe to say that I felt lost.

For two weeks I'd avoided contact with my family, so I wouldn't have to tell them the news yet because I was embarrassed, I was single right in time for the day of love. The only person who knew, other than me and Yeonjun, was my best friend Heeseung.

Since the moment I told him, he made it his daily routine to come to my place with open arms and a warm embrace. I never cried in front of anyone but him. It isn't weak to shed tears, in fact shedding tears takes a lot of strength, I simply don't feel comfortable showing myself vulnerable to others, and especially not after being hurt by someone I trusted.

With Heeseung, it was different, however. We've known each other for so many years and we know most of each other's secrets already. I know that when I cry in front of him it's without being judged and he knows the same goes for him.

One day when he, like normally, went to my place, his smile was abnormal. It was fake. I knew it was fake. After all these years of knowing him, I could distinguish his fake smiles from his true ones faster than Eminem can rap.

Being the caring best friend I am, I asked him what had happened. At that, he broke down and let go of the fooling smile; he can never lie to me for more than a few seconds. His girlfriend, Karina, had broken up with him. Honestly speaking, it was understandable why she wanted to break up with him: 1. He spent too much time with me, 2. He never told her about his thoughts or what bothered him, 3. He didn't treat her like the queen everyone knows she is

Heeseung was mature and didn't beg her for a second chance because he knew she deserved someone better; someone who not only knew she deserved to be treated like a queen but treated her like it. But no matter how mature he was, it didn't make the pain smaller on his part. He was disappointed in himself for ever being in a relationship where he didn't treat his lover right.

And so it was my turn to comfort him. For a couple of days, I had opened arms and a warm embrace for him to find comfort in until he had calmed down.

Impulsively, we went to a tattoo shop and got him a tattoo. It wasn't the I'm-heartbroken-and-need-a-tattoo-to-look-good tattoo, it was the I-need-some-inspiration-in-this-dark-place tattoo. After brainstorming for a long ten minutes, he got the best idea. Don't lock me up, in italics right under his collarbone, above his heart to remind himself to not lock up his feelings.

He had been in great pain for the quarter of time it took to do the tattoo, but he didn't seem to mind... Judging by the way he was biting his lower lip, he was holding in a pained whine, seemingly trying to impress me by handling the pain. When the torture finally had come to an end, the final product made him smile truly – although that part of his body had to be covered with plastic and some tape whenever he so much as wanted to shower.

A week away from Valentine's Day, Heeseung and I made a pact; the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other. During the holiday we'd do all the cheesy things we had planned to do to our now-ex-lovers – but the most crucial parts was that A) the other person wouldn't judge and B) next day all of it would be forgotten. Wow. We had grown so dependent on each other's care that we made the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other...

It was probably stupid to do such a thing with a best friend of so many years, but it was also the 'healthiest' thing to do for us two. Although I, at this point, had convinced Heeseung that I was over Yeonjun, I still hadn't convinced myself. And the same went for Heeseung; he had convinced me that he was over Karina, but not himself.

My plan for Valentine's Day was sublime and if I didn't go through with it, I would regret it — and, damn, I couldn't wait a whole year for the next opportunity (if I even would get the opportunity)!

And that explains this. Us standing. A week later. On a romantic rooftop. Dressed nicely. Smiling awkwardly at each other. On Valentine's Day.

"Since you're my boyfriend tonight, let's go down to the room I rented, shall we?"

"This feels weird," he giggled lightly.

"Play along!" I held out my hand for him to hold and flashed him a smile. He reciprocated my smile and took my hand, following my lead down the stairs to our hotel room; the room I had booked for me and Yeonjun.

Our hands were sweating. It wasn't the first time Heeseung and I held hands, but it was the first time we ever did something like this together; something normal best friends don't do. The affection we've displayed to each other throughout the years had been mostly words and hugs and sometimes cuddles. But now...we were going to show affection in ways we've only done to lovers.

I held out the black card key in front of the sensor above the golden knob but retracted it before the door unlocked.

"If you want to turn back, now is the time to do so. I don't want to go through with this if you don't want to," I said and looked at him.

His eyes told me that it was OK, but I needed his consent to be sure he was OK.

"I want to do this, don't worry," he smiled a little as his heart pounded.

Without breaking eye contact, I put the card in front of the sensor again and waited a few microseconds for it to unlock. I turned the knob and opened the door to the pact.

"After you," I gestured him to enter the room.

"Why thank you," he blushed and hurried inside so I wouldn't catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

But I did.

And I smiled when I saw it.

The room was big and open. Simple, but just perfect. Knowing me and my cheesy nature, Heeseung had expected perhaps some rose petals on the bed or a few scented candles by the bed but, to his surprise, he saw none of that.

I pushed him down onto the soft bed with silk sheets, distracting him for the real surprise, and sat beside him.

"Before we do anything, we need safe words."

"Safe words?" he inquired and raised a brow unknowingly.

"A word to say in case anyone goes overboard or passes the limits," I explained shortly.

"Alright, mine is apple."

"Why apple though?" I giggled at his randomness.

"I ate an apple today." (It was true, he'd had a green apple because he once read that green apples make your breath smell better.)

"If you're going for a fruit I am too. My safe word is peach."

"Why peach?" he raised his brow at me stealing his fruit idea.

"Your peach looks really good in those pants, so it was the first thing I thought of," I replied and laughed at his flustered self.

He knew he had a plump peach.

It was just embarrassing hearing it from me since I, as his best friend, am supposed to not acknowledge how incredibly handsome he is – and especially when it comes to body parts such as peaches!

I put my hand on his thigh to get his attention away from the embarrassment.

"Tonight, I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince," I said with a newfound tone that sent shivers down Heeseung's spine.

I neared him and whispered in his ear, "Tonight, I'm your Mami."

He gulped. I had always been a very dominant person in everything I did, so he expected nothing less than that in bed — but the foreign titles took him by surprise. But it made sense for me to use titles in bed, because I was classy like that.

"What's your safe word?" I asked to make sure he knows he can use it whenever he wants to. After all I didn't know what was out of his comfort-zone.

"Apple."

"If you feel uncomfortable you know you need to say that word, understood?"

"Yes, Mami," he answered, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

With his green light I continued, "Good boy."

At the praise, his cheeks matched the floating rose petals. I loved how responsive he was already. Before tonight I wasn't sure what kind of partner he would be but finding out what he likes step by step excites me – more than I thought finding out my best friend's kinks would excite me. I want to know everything. What turns him on, what makes him scream, what makes him cry; everything.

"My best friend's into praise, hm. Who would have thought?" I teased and squeezed his thigh lightly.

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Mami. I'm Prince, right?"

I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen in them before. Was it lust? Was it something else? How could I be sure of what it was if I hadn't seen him like this before?

"Indeed, you are, Prince," I smiled, slowly feeling my hand up his thick, muscular thigh.

He followed my hand's path with his gaze and bit his lip like back in the tattoo shop. Was he holding in a moan, perhaps? When my hand was at the top, soon on his V-line, I heard how his breathing grew louder and more unsteady.

He seemed to enjoy his thighs being touched.

I noticed how his pants were forming a tent in the prince area, and smirked. To tease him, I let go of his thigh and walked up to the door to the bathroom. He tensed. Maybe he wanted me to touch him some more?

"After you, Prince," I said and opened the door for him.

Once again that stereotype-breaking gesture had him blushing ferociously.

He went into the new room, not expecting much other than grabbing a condom. But when the sight he was met by was nowhere near what he expected, yet it didn't shock him one bit. A large bathtub filled with atypical pink water and typical red rose petals floating on the surface.

He chuckled, "As expected, my best friend is a cheesy person."

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince. I'm your Mami, right?" I asked with a confident smirk.

"Y-Yes," he stuttered and turned away from me so he could avoid my powerful gaze.

"Yes what?" I pushed a little to see how comfortable he was with the title.

"Yes, I'm Mami's Prince," he said under his breath.

I went up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the expensive fabric under my fingertips. "Want to take this off for me?"

"Y-Yes, Mami."

I smiled, "Then give me a little show." He gulped as I sat down on the edge of the tub to get a full view of him. With adrenaline coursing through his body, he let the blazer fall off his shoulders and land on the floor, followed by the ivory dress shirt. As soon as his skin was touched by the air, goosebumps formed, and he flexed his abs. He sure had worked hard to get flex his muscles like this.

Biting my lip, I pointed at his ivy pants, "Take those off too." The way I bit my lip made him feel confident. I didn't bite my lip to prevent honest sounds from falling out like Heeseung did, I bit my lip to prevent myself from ripping the rest of his clothes off. He undid the belt and let the pants pool down around his ankles. Now, in front of me, was he standing in nothing but a pair of black boxers that were fitting all too tight due to those thick thighs and the clearly big erection. He was gulping under my gaze, waiting for me to instruct him on what to do.

"Show me your prince part, Prince." Blushing at the euphemism, he put his fingers under the waistband and pulled his boxers down. He was fit and attractive. Each muscle on his body was visibly hard, including his dick that was high and proud in the air. "You're so handsome, Prince," I praised and watched a small smile break out on his face.

He walked to me with his head down and stood with his tall figure in front of my sitting posture. "Do you want me to touch you, Prince?"

"Yes, please." At that, I put a finger in the middle of his chest and traced it down his abs and to the tip of his dick. He bit his lip again to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping; he wanted to impress me by being good. But I didn't want to give him too much pleasure yet.

"Let's get wet now, shall we? I didn't fill this tub for aesthetics..." He laughed lightly, feeling more at ease at the small joke I made. Listening, he slowly set foot into the tub and tried not to spill so much as a drop of the water. It took him a good half minute to fully settle down since he's so tall and big due to his muscles — but that was good, because it gave me plenty of time to prepare additional surprises for him.

When he averted his attention from the pink water and back to me, he was met by an astonishing, breathtaking, life-changing sight. Me. In lingerie. With a red silk blindfold in hand. This specific lace lingerie was Yeonjun's favorite, so I naturally chose to wear it now – in red to match the theme of the holiday. I felt the most comfortable in it. In this color. In this fabric. Everything made me feel sexy. But the memories of what me and him had done while I was in it brought back a gloominess.

Heeseung didn't know how to react. Did I pick the color red because it was the traditional color of Valentine's Day or because I knew it was his favorite color? For some odd and unknown reason, he hoped for the latter one.

"You look so handsome like this, Prince, but I think you'd look even better in this," I winked and held up the red blindfold. He shuddered. The little piece of fabric was something different. Never had he ever used one in the bedroom — only in fun games with friends, where you had to trust your teammates. Now, however, he was going to put his trust in me.

"What's your safe word?"

"Apple," he answered, "I trust you. You don't need to ask me about it all the time, I'll tell if you need to stop."

"But we've never done this before so I'm scared of it going wrong," I admitted.

"I trust you. Trust me too, Mami."

"As you wish, Prince," I replied.

Once again, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub. I lowered the love blindfold to his face, holding it right above. He was looking at me with those big, curious eyes, filled with anticipation for what was going to happen. How long I was staying still was quickening his heartbeat; he knew I wanted him to be verbal.

"Please," he said, feeling slightly impatient; his heart would jump out his chest any second now. Smiling, I finally put the blindfold on him and tightened it behind his head, making sure it wasn't too tight since I didn't want to ruin his beautiful hair or innocence too much. Oh wait, scratch the last one. I petted his hair, which was equally smooth as the silk around his head. "Does it hurt, Prince?" I asked, referring to the blindfold.

"No, Mami." The silk was smooth against his skin and, although all he could see was darkness, it was magical; all the other senses were heightened. He could hear me breathing and even imagine what I was thinking whilst I was touching him this gently. Maybe I was thinking of how much I loved him as a best friend. Maybe I was thinking of how I'd ruin him. Maybe I was thinking of what to do next.

Slowly I proceeded to his neck. He could feel my presence, through my breaths on his skin, and thus elongated his neck for me — he couldn't see me, but he could sense what I wanted. I began placing small kisses up his neck to his well-defined jaw, while he tried to keep his breathing in control. The kisses were small, yet they made such a big impact on him since his sense of touch was thousands of times greater than normal.

"M-Mami?"

"Yes, Prince," I said between kisses.

"Can I...touch you?"

"Not yet," I smirked and moved further down to his collarbone. I left open-mouthed kisses all over it and stopped to admire his tattoo. Technically I had been the one who had encouraged him to get it. It was so small, but it held so much meaning behind it. My fingers were tracing along the tattoo, soothing Heeseung. He felt calm. He felt at peace. He felt connected to me. When my fingers traced lower and experimentally touched his nipple, he let out a whimper. Bingo.

"Sensitive much?"

He didn't answer, embarrassed.

"I asked you something, Prince," I said with a less kind voice.

"Yes, Mami. I-I'm sensitive, but you already knew that."

It was true. Since the start of our friendship he had showed his vulnerability and sensitivity. He never liked it when I jokingly roasted him, only being into compliments and praises. Praising. I bet he'd be into that.

He whimpered out a 'Mami' when I attached my lips to his nipple. Trying to not shock his body too much, I only gave a quick kitten lick, yet it seemed to affect him a lot when he couldn't hold back a sole whimper. I couldn't tell if it were because of the sensitivity provided by the blindfold or because he had sensitive nipples. Either way, I wanted to test how much I could make him feel.

To give him a little sensation without touching him, I breathed on the wet nipple so he shivered a little at the coldness. He put both of his hands on each edge of the tub to stabilize himself, feeling like he could lose the bare control he had now that I found a weak spot of his. I flattened my tongue and licked against him, making him quiver.

"M-M-Mami," he stuttered breathily. He wasn't trying to call me, nor was he trying to tell me anything — my actions simply lit a part of him that seemed to love my title. He knew exactly how to turn me on and this was the first time we had ever been intimate. It was actually cute how my best friend was so accustomed to both mine and his title. Yeonjun's title, I meant.

I reached my hand under the surface of the water and felt up his thigh. He moaned. Yes. Moaned. At a simple touch. Ashamed of the moan, he let go of one of the edges and brought his hand over his mouth, making him lose a part of his balance. "Don't keep your sounds to yourself, Prince. Give them to me," I ordered.

Smirking against his skin, I started sucking which caused a gasp to erupt at the sudden stimulation. "M-Mami, Mami—" he whimpered loudly. He had tried to keep his noises to himself until now, but although it hurt his pride a little, he liked pleasing me.

How could whimpers sound so beautiful? They were so angelic and graceful, contrary to the scene of sinning. I retracted from him to admire the view. One nipple was red and swollen and the other one was left untouched. Each muscular arm was resting on each edge, trying not to move a millimeter. The blindfold was covering part of his face yet matched with his feverish blush. His mouth was agape, letting the whimpers I loved oh so much out every now and then. I was happy I hadn't gone for the cliché bubble bath, because now that the water was clear I could see his naked body — every part from his beauteously tattooed upper body to his thick stone-hard thighs and dick.

But there was one part of his body that I couldn't see. One part that was magnificent and that I needed to see. "Turn around," I whispered in his ear.

"W-What?"

"Turn around and show me your butt, Prince," I clarified and waited for him to move.

Unsurely, he supported himself on the edges and sat up. Although he couldn't see he could feel, so he had no difficulty turning around and putting his hands on the edge he had been resting his back on until now. He arched his back, adding to the sex appeal that the tub already delivered. Damn, how could an ass be that good-looking? How could—

"C-Can you spank me?" he interrupted me from my thoughts.

Did I even know my best friend? Or did he know me so well that he knew that was exactly what I wanted to do in that moment?

"What do you say, Prince?"

Good boy knew the answer, "Please."

"You'll need to beg a little more than that," I said teasingly, making him swallow yet another piece of his pride.

"Can you, please, please, spank me, Mami? I've been so good until now; don't I deserve it?"

He made a fair point. And he also confirmed my theory of him having a praise kink.

"Yes, you do, Prince. You've been so obedient until now, of course you deserve a little pain."

His cheeks tinted pink. Yes, he did indeed have a praise kink.

Suddenly I spanked him, creating a loud echo of skin-to-skin sound. He jolted forward with a whine, not expecting the hit since he couldn't see me or my hand in the air. His cheeks jiggled and I swore that my ex had never made me this wet before as I felt my wetness drip down my thighs.

"H-Harder, please, Mami."

"Since you're such a good prince for me, of course!" Those words. He loved hearing them. He knew I probably had those thoughts already, since he's aware he's a good boy, but hearing me say them made his heart race. Once again, I hit his skin and made him jolt forward from the harsh touch. Except this time, he moaned out my title louder. He held his head down, adding to the submission.

"M-Mami—"

"You want more, Prince?"

"Yes, plea—"

Spank! Before he even could finish his answer, my hand was back on his cheek again — I had already predicted his answer. Now one of his cheeks had my red handprint on it, matching his blindfold and blush, whilst the other cheek had no mark. And I was going to keep it that way. Asymmetry is beautiful.

His blindfold, nipple and cheek weren't the only things red. The part of his body that needed me the most hadn't gotten any attention yet. His dick's color stood out from most of his body and the way he reacted to small touches could only hint at him needing me to touch it.

"Turn around," I ordered him again.

"W-What— But you haven't—"

"Do you want me to touch your prince part?" I disrupted him.

"Y-Yes."

"Then turn around and show it to me, Prince."

He let go of the tub and turned around in the water, making sure to be comfortable when resting his back against it because he knew he'd stay in that position for a while. He heard how I got into the tub too. The water was rippling, and my feet were touching the tub; he could both feel and hear that I got in. Slowly, as to not drive any water out, I sank down onto his lap and put my hands on the tub on either side of his head. The feeling of my smooth skin on his indicated I had taken off the lingerie. That only meant one thing. I drew closer to him and whispered in his ear a million-dollar question: "Do you want your dick inside me?"

Gulping, he nodded promptly.

"Use your words, Prince," I sang.

He took another gulp before speaking, "Y-Yes, please, Mami."

"Good boy," I praised and watched as his true smile made an appearance like it'd done many times tonight.

Only to form an 'o' and let a long moan out as I sat down and got filled up by his dick deliciously. "Ah~ M-Mami~" The sensitivity of waiting and being blindfolded added with my tightness was what brought out his embarrassingly loud moan.

I needed to get used to the size since he was bigger than my last lover. In the meantime, I decided to get back to his stunning neck and kiss it. He had two prominent birthmarks under his Adam's apple; the left one was higher up and the right one was closer to his collarbone. Since I can remember I had liked them. They were a distinctive feature of his, just like his tattoos. I kissed both birthmarks and started moving up and down slowly on his dick. This wasn't going to be a hard fuck session; this was going to be a slow and soft lovemaking session because he was my prince. For tonight at least.

He sporadically let out moans that ranged from high to low pitched, long to short lasting — all of them were music to my ears — a love song I'd think of every now and then when I didn't have my prince by my side. The sound of the water moving each time I did was the background music. I started marking his neck with beautiful love bites, not hickeys, because these marks were out of love. Love and pride, as I wanted everyone to see that he was mine.

As I sucked harder on his neck, his moans turned into constant whimpers. He didn't know what this feeling was. Never had he ever made love with someone before. Sure, he'd been caring in bed but never had he felt this cared for before. On the other hand, it wasn't my first time. I had done this to Yeonjun every time I wanted him to know how much he meant to me (all the time). But, although this was an illusion me and Heeseung had created, it felt real.

"Ma-Mami, can you go rougher on me? Please?" At that I sunk my teeth into his collarbone, not the one with the tattoo, but the bare one. I didn't want to cover the meaning behind the tattoo, instead I wanted to cover the other part of skin, so I'd be the one who in a way adorned both sides. The friend in me was in his tattoo and the lover in me was in his mark. He bit his lower lip to try to conceal the pathetic whimper, failing while doing so. Sure, he loved being taken care of, but he also loved pain.

My thrusts were slow, yet long lasting, like the memory of this night would be soon. This felt surreal. Our connection. Our love. Our everything. The love bites on his neck and the literal bite mark on his collarbone would be enough proof the next morning when Heeseung would wake up that this night in fact had happened.

He let go of his lower lip and let the whimpers out freely, not caring that it hurt his pride because when you're in love your pride doesn't matter as much as it did before. He was reaching his breaking point and so was I but we both purposely held our orgasms back. We didn't want this to end. We wanted this love to last as long as it possibly could. We knew that the next day we would go back to being best friends; there'd be no more Prince and Mami. We knew that we would be gone like the pink water in this tub would be in the morning. The marks would remain on his neck and shoulder the next morning...but the illusion of love wouldn't.

"A-Are you cumming?" I asked, drunk on love.

"Y-Yes, b-but I can wait." We had already been at it for longer than an hour — even the water was cold — but that wasn't enough. We were both exhausted, both mentally because it was late and physically because of the lovemaking.

"I know you want to cum, Prince," I said, not wanting him to wear himself out.

"C-Can you choke me first, Mami? Please, I've a-always wanted y-you to do that to me," he mumbled.

I didn't answer him, instead I let go of the edge and circled my fingers around his neck. For most people, choking was some kinky shit. But for us, it was romance. I was quite literally holding his life in my hand and he trusted me with it. He trusted me with his whole life, and I didn't let him down. That's a part of love; letting yourself into a vulnerable position, knowing the other person can hurt you, but staying because you have faith in that they would love you instead.

In this moment, he had everything he didn't know he wanted. He felt like he'd arrived in utopia by accident. There was nothing he wanted to change. Nothing. And neither did I. His marks were asymmetrical, but that was in my eyes perfect. I tightened my grip on his neck a little, making him choke out a small whiney moan. At the same time, I felt my core aching and his dick pulsating. We needed to cum. Physically we needed to. But emotionally we didn't want to.

"Let's cum together," I said and let go of his neck

"Please, just a little more," he begged.

"We can't hold back, and you know it," I stated.

"Please, Mami," he cracked his voice. I looked at his face. His face was red, and the blindfold had wet patches. The patches weren't there because of the water splashing on him (I had made sure to not splash any on his face), they were there because they'd gotten out of his eyes. He was crying, not wanting us to come to an end. But we needed to. He wasn't my boyfriend; he was only playing the role of my boyfriend. I treated him as if he were Yeonjun, not Heeseung.

For the first time ever, I kissed him. Not on his body, but on his lips. He returned the kiss with just as much thirst as me. Surrounded by water, yet we thirsted for each other. We needed to savor this before it ran out. I tangled my hands into his soft hair, not caring if I ruined his hair anymore. I didn't care. All I cared about was this moment. For the first time this night, he let go of the tub fully and put his hands on my skin, letting them relish and remember every curve and edge before he'd never get to touch me like this ever again.

I paused the kiss and said for the last time, "Let's cum together."

"Can you take th-the blindfold off first?"

Truth was that he wanted to see me so he could have a visual memory of that one time he made love with his best friend. During all of this, he'd had a blindfold and although he felt that everything was real, he wanted to know for sure he wasn't dreaming. I untied it and threw it away to who-cares-where. He opened his eyes and took in the view of me. I was naked. I was raw. I was vulnerable. I had no layers shrouding any part of me. "I love you," he said, looking into my eyes.

Holding his face in my hands, I said, "I love you too."

And there we reached our climax.

The end.

{One year later}

Valentine's Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

I walked into our bedroom and was met by a wonderful view. My real boyfriend was standing in front of our bed. "I missed you so much, Baby," I smiled and kissed his cheek as per usual.

He was clad in only a pair of boxers and nothing else. "I have a little surprise for you."

"Oh really?" I asked, amused, and sat down on the bed as he stood in front of me.

He coughed to clear his throat and looked serious, "I've been keeping a little secret from you for a little while now..."

What did he mean? Had he been reconsidering our relationship? Was I going to relive the same heartbreak as last year?

I must've looked worried, because suddenly he broke out of the serious trance he tried to be in and smiled at me. Slowly he pulled down his underwear to reveal the little surprise.

Right on his V-line.

A tattoo.

Of a little crown.

Because he is my prince.

✦ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

“Me with no makeup, you in the bathtub

Bubbles and bubbly, ooh

This is a pleasure, feel like we never

Act this regular

(…)

Kiss me and take off your clothes

Imagine a world like that”

—ari

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