#I'm in the closet but the closet is made out of glass

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Ice Princess"

Ice Princess by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Murder, Mayhem, Blood, Violence, Action/Adventure, Thriller, All Dat Good Shit. Grown Folks Only.

Summary:

Portia Keith has it all. A rich boyfriend. An impressive sugar baby allowance. Shopping trips around the world on private jets and more. Every day is spent living in the lap of luxury. For a special holiday trip, her boyfriend gifts her with a private yacht cruise on the Aegean Sea to ring in the New Year with friends.

In order to keep the wealthy party-goers safe, private security is hired to protect the good times, and the spoiled diva encounters the gruff ex-Special Ops soldier, Erik Killmonger, who has no time to coddle a spoiled, coolheaded socialite. Chaos erupts when the yacht is hijacked by ruthless modern-day pirates, and Portia has to learn to leave her Ice Princess ways behind in order for Killmonger to get her back on land... alive.

Word count: 22.5K

"I'm so cold I'm dripping icicles

I go and take your man that nigga might miss you

Spent his whole commission on my neck and ear

To stand around me need to have ya winter gear

Pay me coats and benz's and that berg-ice

That's why I do not feel these bitches, frostbite

Grown money, ever since a youngin' made my own money

You broke honey, and they call me

Banks, cause I can loan money

Colder than December, my diamonds on

Anna WintourSo that's fly ice in my life"

Azealia Banks – "Ice Princess"

Erik Killmonger nearly turned down the job.

Floating around some Greek islands in and around the Aegean Sea for a week babysitting some rich bitches was not his dream gig. Some guns for hire might enjoy the laid-back assignment full of sunshine and sparkling azure waters, but he learned enough over the years that working for wealthy pampered civilians was a pain in the ass. They treated security like servant extensions, and he was not interested in an environment like that. He was accustomed to covert jobs that kept his blood pumping and his mind sharp. There were long-term goals that required him to be with a different mix around the Middle East and real action.

But his homeboy Clark wanted to keep the contract with James Quinton, the multi-millionaire from Silicon Valley who pioneered new bleeding-edge technology in computer processing. For about seven years, he had been a celebrated tech wiz, one of the few Black men successfully cashing out of the grind hustle culture. Killmonger kept up with the man's accomplishments and compared them with his own. As a graduate of M.I.T. and a certified genius with MENSA, the secret Wakandan prince would've probably become another James Quinton himself if his life hadn't been disrupted by trauma and loss. The chips fell where they did, and Killmonger bided his time searching for Ulysses Klaue and working as expensive hired security. Clark nagged at him.

"Man, I'm stretched thin. They want discretion and the best. That's you. I know you were supposed to start leave for a week to recuperate from that Lagos job, but there's some sketchy action happening around the Mediterranean, and your Navy SEAL experience is needed… just in case," Clark said on a satellite call.

Killmonger sat in his closet-sized studio that acted as a storage locker for his gear instead of a home. Constantly on the go, and on the grind, he listened to Clark reclining in his Lazy-Boy chair with a glass tumbler of prime whiskey in his hand.

"You'll ring the New Year in a beautiful atmosphere. Relaxed and peaceful. The bonus holiday pay is great. Please, I need this contract fulfilled. This man knows a lot of billionaires and I could use the referrals�� new contacts. Plus, you're good-looking," Clark continued.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Killmonger said, sipping on his drink.

"Look over the file I sent you online. It gives details about the yacht you'll be protecting, and also the rest of the clientele."

"That still ain't got nothing to do with my looks," Killmonger grumbled.

"Pretty girls like good-looking men. That's all I'm saying. You might get lucky compared to the other goons I got," Clark said.

Killmonger closed his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. The studio apartment felt cramped and joyless.

"I'll throw in another bonus for the short notice," Clark insisted.

"How many people onboard?"

"It's a private New Year's party, eight guests, and the yacht staff of four. You'll have your own cabin. You'll lead everything with Sherman and Banks working under you. Giving you the best—"

"Just three men?"

Killmonger lifted his laptop from a small table next to his chair. He logged onto his dark web email account and scrolled images of the yacht. Looking at the dimensions and pictures, Killmonger put down his glass.

"I need at least three more men."

"I can pull at least one more for you—"

"Gotta have five total under me to make this work, especially with us going to a new hot spot."

"The Greek government and the Turkish government have been doing extra sea patrols. James Quinton hasn't mentioned going anywhere for the holidays and I urged him to place his social media engagement on pause for the week until they end their holiday. It'll be a vacation for you. In fact, you could just supervise and chill."

Killmonger knocked back the rest of his liquor.

"Okay, I'll do it. Get me five men."

He hung up and checked the files of James Quinton on his own cryptic software. Quinton liked to stunt his wealth. The man posted photos and corny quotes at least ten times a day on all of his social media platforms. It was the ones with his girlfriend that worried Killmonger.

Portia Keith.

Online, she was known as the Ice Princess. Her beauty and personality were so cold that she had a reputation for being a femme fatale with a rich man's wallet. She had been linked to a few celebrities in the past but had moved her pampered ways to men with deeper and consistent pockets. She rarely spoke in public and showed up to haute couture fashion shows all across the globe. Killmonger couldn't figure out exactly what she did to make men clamor for her and pop culture gossip blogs to want to follow her daily jaunts as a sugar baby with James Quinton.

He stared at a few pictures.

Ma definitely had a face card that would never decline. Medium height, a medium copper brown complexion that turned a pretty darker hue in the sun. Body looked all natural and not the cringy build-a-bitch looks women paid top dollar for. Portia had tits and a nice ass that matched her thighs. She liked provocative looks and expensive things. Quinton gave her everything and baby girl wasn't denied anything according to the photos he peeped on her platforms. There was a crew of girlfriends she jaunted around with, and in every picture, Portia was the center of attention. The face of a model on par with Naomi Campbell, and the body of a vixen bent on destroying hearts and dicks. She stayed dripped in diamonds every day from head to toe. Most men couldn't afford her and several tried to keep her until Quinton snatched her up with the bank account that kept her flaunting her beauty and body.

That face, though? Killmonger couldn't stop staring at it. Her eyes were cool dark windows that gave away nothing. The kind of eyes that cut niggas down if they weren't on point. Her round nose was slightly upturned in a natural haughtiness, but her lips were the deadliest weapons in her arsenal. Killmonger's lips parted as he licked his canine slugs that matched the bottom ones made of pure gold. Portia's lips looked like they could make a dick cry if she sucked on it. Her nickname fit the vibe she gave off, and he wondered what Quinton had besides money to keep that sophisticated sugar baby close.

Killmonger checked the gossip sites and scrolled pages and pages of rumors that Portia and Quinton were having issues and possibly on the outs. He guessed the private New Year's trip was Quinton's way of keeping her, especially with the gossipmongers bubbling with sightings of her having lunch with an Italian billionaire.

Killmonger poured himself a fresh drink, then checked flight schedules on Delta Airlines.

Portia Keith pouted all the way to Greece on her boyfriend's private Gulfstream jet. Scrolling her social media feeds while holding her apricot-colored Pomeranian Mimi, she fumed at the gossip page listing her and Quinton on a site that criticized the super-rich for ruining the climate with their wasteful private flights and hoarding of resources. Her bestie Jodie patted her thigh and told her to ignore the haters.

One thing Portia always did was cultivate a scandal-free reputation. She prided herself on being a carefree Black woman leading a luxury movement for other Black women that had them raising their standards against unqualified men. Accused of only promoting hypergamy and a sugar baby lifestyle, she let people talk their shit because it only brought luxury brands her way courting her favors to use and promote their goods for free. Her exquisite face launched products like no other, and the quiet mystique she crafted with razor precision could not tolerate slander with her image. It wasn't her jet. It was Quinton's. Rich people had to protect themselves and taking commercial airlines with the poors was so… gauche. Especially for bad bitches like herself. The income brackets she played in were fifty million and above, and the low bar of fifty million was just being polite. Not bad for a country girl with tidewater roots and access to an excellent finishing school that prepped her for the lifestyle she led.

Portia left Charleston, South Carolina, with a finance degree from Clemson University and never looked back. Landing a job working under the Director of Finance and Operations for Conde Nast, she labored around the folks who ran Vogue Magazine. A chance encounter during New York Fashion Week launched her new career as a pampered princess. The paparazzi snapped a candid shot of her walking near Anna Wintour wearing a layered sable Balenciaga romper. They both wore the same dark Chanel sunglasses, and a fashion mag begged the question, "Who wore it better?" Before his passing, André Leon Talley exalted her style sense and overnight, Portia became the new "It" girl, the mysterious fashionista who was too short to be a model, but too glamorous to be a simple finance department worker.

She jumped on the parasocial relationship with the New York fashion scene and made sure she appeared at big events. Using a lame-ass rapper who liked to rock oversized ice, she taught him how to dress better, and spent his money on a better investment… her. She put him on to better fashion, better food, and better jewelry. It helped broaden his brand and snag a movie role. She bounced from him to a Hollywood Executive who flaunted her at Oscar parties and she kept her mouth shut and her eyes wide open for new marks. Stacking other people's paper and collecting custom diamond jewelry that became her signature trademark was a lofty career in her early twenties. Portia was nearing the end of her roaring twenties and she had to upgrade her prospects to older men with healthy long-term portfolios. Hollywood and celebrity wealth were fleeting, often feast and famine. New prospects were needed and her finance education led her to San Francisco and tech Daddies. The trade-offs were dull, less attractive men, but fatter pockets.

Then Quinton appeared on a Forbes magazine cover.

Dollar signs flashed in her eyes. She called in favors to get invited to a tech gala and projected her icy exterior onto a man who was rich and above average. New money cleaned him up, but her looks, nimble fingers, and optimum sex magic snagged her a baller on the rise. If she drank enough liquor and squinted her eyes just so, he could almost pass as a poor man's skinny Trevante Rhodes. But that squint had to be hard and the liquor extra strong.

She glanced over at Quinton.

He bored her now.

Quinton was thirty, only four years older than her, but he acted like he was fifty, worrying about his declining fortune all the time. He got caught up in some bad cryptocurrency deals and took a hit on some poor stock market advice. The man pretended that everything was okay financially, but Portia could smell the oncoming of poverty one hundred miles away. Yet she still ran his pockets one last time with the trip she wanted for herself and her girls. She had a couple of boyfriend replacements already on deck and planned to jump ship after the New Year. Broke didn't look good on her and she wasn't built for struggle love or struggle pockets. A baddie always had a graceful contingency exit plan. She sighed loud enough for Quinton to notice her restlessness. Her gaze glossed over his hairline, which was beating a hasty retreat to the back of his neck. What had once been a full head of cropped waves had turned into phantom follicles that gave up on him faster than she did. He had aged so quickly in the two years she'd been with him that she could mistake him for his own father nowadays. Pity. Portia thought she'd stay with him for at least a few more years to see if he could stack his paper higher past the eighty million he was worth when she met him. Alas, that was not to be.

Quinton put down the computer tablet he had his nose buried in and clasped her hand. His eyes were already bloodshot from drinking and anxiousness. Things were probably going downhill faster.

"We're about to land, baby. Have patience," he said.

Her girlfriends giggled and drank martinis behind them. Portia ran a diamond-studded finger up his arm. Mimi whined on her lap.

"Will you give me anything special for New Year's Day?" she purred.

Quinton grinned.

"I have a lot planned for you," he winked.

At least he was going out with a bang, she thought. He was spoiling her one last time, unbeknownst to him. A part of her wondered if she should feel pity for milking him dry until he went belly up. It was the nature of the game, and he knew fully that to keep a woman like her, he had to keep his coins up. She kissed his cheek and her stomach dropped. They were descending.

Their landing was swift, and they were all transported to a launch dock where Quinton's brand-new custom yacht waited for them on tranquil turquoise waters. Seeing the ship, Portia couldn't help but get excited and jump about like a kid with her friends as she held Mimi in her personalized pink Fendi doggy purse. Quinton's three male friends ogled the women through their sheer beach cover-ups. Their teeny-weeny bikinis left little to the lascivious imagination. Portia patted her designer cornrows studded with pink diamond hair jewelry that matched Mimi's pink diamond collar. The ends of her jeweled braids extended past her back, and she flung her natural hair around and waited to board the yacht.

A staff member waited on the main deck of the ship with a tray of mixed drinks in a crisp eggshell white maritime uniform of a starched shirt and knee-length shorts. Portia grabbed the first glass and her gaze drifted over to the tall Black man wearing a hot as hell black military uniform holding a colt commando automatic weapon. His glossy locs framed a gruff, bearded face with a scowl on his thick lips.

"Ohmigod, Quinton. Is this really necessary? Mood killer," Portia complained.

She released Mimi to run around and handed her purse to another crew member. Quinton shook the security's hand. Scoping the yacht, Portia saw five more similar men spread behind the first one.

"Killmonger, correct?" Quinton said.

"Correct," Killmonger said.

"Just Killmonger?" Portia asked.

"Just Killmonger," he answered in a rough tone.

Quinton turned to all of his guests as they mingled and admired the surrounding luxury. The five other security team members dispersed to their stations. Only Killmonger remained. Quinton held out his hands to show off his big, shiny toy.

"As I told all of you, we'll be completely protected. I know there have been rumblings of issues in this region, but I hired some serious security. Enjoy yourselves! Wander around for a bit and they will place your luggage in your cabins. Lunch in an hour!" Quinton said.

"Hold up," Killmonger said.

Everyone stopped chatting and froze with their refreshing drinks.

"We need to go over a safety drill," Killmonger said.

Quinton glanced at his watch.

"Now? Can it wait until after lunch?"

"No," Killmonger said.

"Where would you like us to be?" Quinton asked.

"Head to the stern, please," Killmonger said, pointing to the back of the yacht.

The others headed in that direction. Portia sauntered past him in the opposite direction.

"I'm going to settle in," she said, rolling her eyes.

Killmonger snatched up her arm so quickly that it knocked the breath out of her. She didn't know a human could move that fast. He held her close to his chest as his other hand gripped his weapon.

"See, you're the type of woman who makes the job difficult by being a brat," he snapped.

"You can't talk to me like that!" she hissed, trying to jerk her arm away. It was like fighting an immobile mountain.

"I'm here to protect your good time. We practice drills for a reason."

She exhaled hard when she noticed his teeth. Sharp gold canine slugs on his top and bottom teeth.

"I could have my man sue you for assault," she bitched.

"Do it," he said.

Portia blinked fast several times.

"Do you know who James Quinton is? He could ruin you!" she bellowed, squirming in his grip.

"I'm here to make sure you rich people don't get bothered. I'm the best at that and I'd appreciate your cooperation with the safety drill. It'll only take twenty minutes of your precious spoiled time," he barked.

"Portia?"

Her friend Chelsea called for her.

Killmonger released her arm, and Portia looked up into his face. Narrow, heated eyes peered down at her.

"Let's go, princess," he said, swaggering past her and slinging his weapon over his shoulder.

Portia stared at his wide back and clenched her teeth. She threw her martini glass over the side of the yacht in anger and balled up her fists. Prepared to raise hell with Quinton over the manhandling, she huffed under her breath in anger and stomped her Gucci slides when Killmonger glanced back at her and… smiled, flashing those gold slugs.

Portia halted her steps. The fuck was he smiling at?

And why was she getting aroused by it?

She was a piece of work.

Killmonger knew from jump that Portia would be a problem needing an attitude adjustment. He checked her real quick the moment she mouthed off about not following safety rules that had to be enforced in case of an emergency. She gave him a glacial stare during his short introductory speech on how the trip would run among the security team, and he took them down the stairs that led to a sunbathing deck. There was an emergency escape door that led to an eleven meters long military rigid hull inflatable boat under the yacht that could hold three crew and eight passengers. It had an M60 7.62mm machine gun, an MK19 40mm, and an M2 .50 cal. machine gun armament attached to it. The boat could do forty knots with six in-line cylinder diesel engines. It was an extreme weather craft and Killmonger made them all jump inside of it to get a feel of how they would ride it in case of an emergency exit. He pointed out life vests and showed them the scuba gear his men had available to check for underwater threats.

Once Portia realized they were the real deal, she fixed her face to look less bitchy and bothered. Killmonger was concise and professional and he impressed all the guests with his background and training. He spoke to his team to go over work shifts, breaks, and overnight watch duty. Taking the first shift watch on the main deck, he kept his guard up while the yacht started its adventure away from the Greek port and out into the open sea. The captain of the ship introduced himself and his staff after lunch and their first port of call was Athens, and then they would head to Crete. They would spend the rest of their time tooling around on the open sea and shooting off fireworks on New Year's Eve.

The women wasted no time throwing off their bikini covers and rushing over to sunbathe topless on cushy recliners. An annoying little dog ran around barking and finally jumped on Portia's thighs to sleep until it got too hot and it hid under her chair. He didn't mind watching the sea with binoculars and occasionally looking down at tits. They weren't shy about showing them, so he would not pretend he didn't notice. Quinton and his male buddies grabbed a bottle of top-shelf bourbon and headed to the other side of the yacht to smoke cigars on padded deck chairs. They were torn up by dinner, and by then, he was done with his work shift and free to relax and eat a meal in his cabin. A private chef brought him moussaka and white wine for dinner and galaktoboureko for dessert. It filled him up, and he took a quick shower afterward, then rested on his bed.

The party crowd became raucous and rowdy the later it became, and he changed into light linen pants and a cotton shirt to join them and check in with the night shift team. Music blared from speakers on the starboard side and he eased around to observe and also check out the night waters. The yacht had spotlights that surrounded the bottom of the boat, so there was a beautiful glow to the calm aquamarine water. The rest of the ship was lit up too, which concerned Killmonger. Nothing like advertising a luxury yacht filled with rich people. He was correct in requesting five men to work with him. They had various firearms, rocket-propelled grenades, and enough ammo to start a war at sea if needed. He relaxed after talking to the two men on shift. All was well.

He went for a stroll around the upper decks while the civilians headed down to the lower deck to spread out for cocktails on the main deck. A cool breeze blew past and ruffled his locs. He closed his eyes and faced it fully, luxuriating in the sensation.

"Oh… so you can look normal."

Killmonger opened his eyes and found Portia and one of her friends sitting on white barrel chairs with their legs kicked up on an olive green ottoman. She wore a short pumpkin-colored shift dress and her skin looked amazing from being in the sun all day. Playing with the hem of her extra short dress, he admired the elaborate diamond chips that decorated her long fingernails. She stayed adorned, and he appreciated the effort she took to look feminine and soft. Portia's friend looked cute in a short polka-dotted sun dress. Her hair was lifted in a high ponytail of cascading auburn curls that fell down over her slender shoulder.

He took the open seat next to the friend with a short table between them. There was a half-empty glass of red wine and a fresh unopened bottle next to it with a cork opener conveniently placed on top of it if she needed more.

"I can dress down when I'm not working," he said.

She smiled. The wine had relaxed her and she appeared less uptight. Crossing a seductive leg, he glimpsed her sexy thighs. She didn't have any panties on, and her mound was clean-shaven. He glanced away to pretend he saw nothing, but the smirk on her face told him she meant for him to see her pussy.

"Why aren't you two down with the others?" he asked.

"Needed a break. When you're always the life of the party like me, you need a little time off. Plus, they're talking about work and stocks. Tiana and I are not interested."

"That's so snoozefest," Tiana said, her light skin splotchy with sunburn marks.

"Your other friends seem intrigued by it."

"Those heffas?" Portia snorted. "They just want to appear interested to get attention. Carlos is worth half a billion. Ben two billion. Oh, and that loud mouth you hear right now? That's Stieg. He's a Scandinavian trust fund baby worth five billion. My girls are here to party with me, but make no mistake, they're fishing for a big fish of their own to catch up with me. They're bored out of their minds, but…."

Portia rubbed her fingers together to indicate cash. She stood up and walked down the stairs, leaving Killmonger with Tiana. He sat in silence for a moment before standing up to leave.

"You sure you'll be okay up here by yourself?" he asked, glancing over at the balcony.

Tiana looked heavily inebriated.

"I can hold my liquor," Tiana said.

"Alright then, I'll leave you to your bottle and privacy—"

He glanced over the railing and watched Portia saunter to the front of the yacht. For someone who stayed rude to him while he was on shift, her lax behavior at night intrigued him. Showing off her pussy had to be an amusing game to her. Killmonger liked what he saw and slid his wet tongue across a gold fang.

The rest of his rounds were completed, and he gave one of his men a twenty-minute smoke break starboard side once the guests had turned in to sleep. He took over the watch temporarily and cast his glances out toward the tranquility of the sea. Heavy breathing brought forth curiosity, and he strolled down to a lower deck to investigate.

Portia was on her back naked, legs spread wide as Quinton exerted desperate dick strokes inside of her.

"You're so good, baby. Yes, that's it," Portia said with lukewarm enthusiasm.

Her eyes faced the sea, and she offered no effort to reciprocate affections or even movement as her man pounded her. The detachment on her expressionless face bothered Killmonger. Quinton gave her the world and she couldn't be bothered to give some passion? Even if it was a fake? A true pillow princess, Portia laid there with minimal effort to even wiggle her hips. She managed to push her breasts together and jiggle them, but she refused to look at Quinton's face. The man stared at the fat titties and pumped his way to a sad orgasm. When he collapsed on top of Portia, she took her expensive nails and raked them on the back of his neck and cooed phony words of praise. A smug look painted her face.

Killmonger gripped the railing, and a surge of anger sparked inside of him. He wanted to wipe that petty smirk off Portia's face. He knew fully well that her relationship with Quinton was a transactional one based on the rules of patriarchy. Men bought women as commodities and arm candy all the time. Killmonger knew what the game was, and Ma played it like the pro she appeared to be. However, it irked him that Quinton didn't fuck the shit out of her and make Portia earn all of her riches from him.

Quinton rolled off of her on the wide sectional couch and pulled off the condom that sheathed his average-sized dick. He balled it up and tossed it onto the table next to them. Within seconds, he was fast asleep, and Portia rested her head on a throw pillow. Her eyes squinted in surprise when she noticed Killmonger looking down at them. She slid a finger to her pussy lips, teasing Killmonger by opening her legs wider so he could see all the wet pink of her succulent entrance. His lips twisted up and there was a tightening in his pants. She traced a finger in a wide circle around her folds, then licked her fingers, dropping them onto her nipples to tweak the tips. He gripped the front of his pants to adjust his dick, thinking of all the ways he would fold her body if he had the chance to teach her a lesson about teasing a nigga like him. Her writhing body was doing all the things she should've been doing for Quinton if she hadn't been a lazy fuck. Portia dipped her fingers inside of her pussy and pursed her lush lips as she watched his face grow more aroused watching her display of ridiculous seduction right next to her snoring boyfriend. But he couldn't look away. Her fingers spun magic as they played in her slick folds. She flicked her clit and widened her legs for him until she raised her arm up and flipped him off with a moist finger. Portia cackled and clutched at her stomach, delighted at her teasing. She grabbed the shift dress she had on earlier and put it on, leaving Quinton behind by himself on the sectional. Tossing the used condom in the sea with the flick of a diamond nail, her laughter floated up to Killmonger as she headed to her cabin.

"Bitch," he grumbled.

She had him going, toying with him by using her physical blessings against him long enough to tell him to fuck off. Portia wanted to play cat and mouse, thinking he was the silly little mouse. Little did she know she had a vicious panther on her hands.

They docked in Crete at the crack of dawn.

Killmonger had two of his team stay behind to watch the yacht, and the others dressed in civilian clothing to blend in and trail the women who went shopping and out for lunch with the billionaires and Quinton. The blistering heat didn't let up. He wiped the back of his neck and under his chin several times while tracking Quinton. Portia stayed on the yacht to sleep in late. Her man seemed to find his balls again when he wasn't around her. The passive energy disappeared, and he took on a personality with bravado, impressing Tiana, who laughed at his corny jokes. Their lunch break was long and Killmonger took time to smoke a cigar near an open market. He played tourist watching the surrounding activity, checking the time on his watch constantly, and checking in with the yacht.

In his peripheral he caught Quinton slinking out of the high-end restaurant and entering the luxury hotel next to it. Killmonger stayed put hidden behind a marble statue of Athena, keeping his steady gaze on his client. Quinton checked his surroundings before dashing into the hotel. Killmonger entered the hotel and discreetly shielded his body from the other tourists. Moments later, Tiana walked into the lobby and headed toward Quinton. The tech wiz grabbed Tiana's hand and they entered an elevator together. Killmonger grinned and left the hotel.

The pillow princess's man was getting better pussy elsewhere with her bestie. Killmonger shook his head and checked on the people milling around the hotel lobby. He stayed put until the illicit couple came back down the elevator twenty-five minutes later, fixing their rumpled clothes to look presentable again.

"Quick ass," Killmonger mumbled, sticking a piece of gum in his mouth to chase away the taste of cigar on his tongue.

The trip back to the yacht was uneventful an hour later, and Portia's girlfriends carried plenty of gift bags to commemorate their visit. Portia stood on the top deck with a martini glass in her hand wearing an alabaster knit bikini. A giant floppy sun hat shaded her face. She pranced around on her chunky platforms, waiting for her friends to share their bounty with her.

"Fuck," Killmonger uttered, staring up at her.

Her body was insane. The bikini top only covered her nipples, and the bottoms barely shielded her vulva. He licked his lips again, staring at how fat her pussy looked up there. Tiana was nothing compared to Portia, but Killmonger knew that a lot of beautiful women had trash box and men fucked with women who made them feel good. Looks had nothing to do with keeping a man in the long run. Plenty of mid-looking and ugly women had snatched away prizes from bombshells. Perhaps Portia needed a man with good dick to turn her out correctly. There was no way all that body was going to waste because some rich dude couldn't handle her spunk.

Portia caught him checking her out, and she leaned over the railing to eye him back. Killmonger sauntered to his cabin to change back into his serious work clothes. He checked in with the mercs left behind on duty and all reports were good. The ship's captain updated him with a weather report and soon they were back out at sea for the rest of the trip.

Quinton and Portia threw a costume-themed dinner party and everyone wore Mardi Gras masks and sipped champagne before devouring salty caviar, Kobe steak, and lobsters. The yacht staff hustled to please, but Portia became a bitch when things didn't go as smoothly as she wanted. She reamed one female server so badly for stepping on her dog Mimi by accident that the woman slunk away in tears. Quinton said nothing about the bullying and everyone else was too drunk to comment on anything. Portia snapped at two mercs while moving into their next party area for charades and Killmonger had enough of the poor attitude. When Portia went for a restroom break in her cabin, he followed her. She caught him waiting for her in the narrow hall.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Her icy tone and polar stare made him want to flip her around and spank her ass like an insolent child being reprimanded by a fed-up parent.

"You need to check your tone with the staff and my men. These people are working hard—"

"Shut the fuck up, you simpin' bitch," she said.

Portia lifted the Mardi Gras mask onto her forehead and glared at him. Her little cat woman bikini costume showed off every curve, and he became distracted for a second by the veracity of her tone and demeanor. No woman had ever tried to come for him like that, especially one who didn't know him from Adam. Her breath smelled like the expensive French wine she had drank all night, and he considered her drunken state before speaking. He leaned in, and Portia leaned back until she was jammed against her cabin door. Killmonger bared his teeth at her and she acted as if he had snarled like a beast. Her eyes darted toward the stairs that led to the top deck, expecting someone to rescue her.

"Treat people who cater to you with respect. They don't get paid enough to take your verbal abuse," he demanded.

She looked away from his heated glare and gold canines. He caught the subtle tremble in her body, but then she turned her face back to him and smirked.

"Those people are paid well and competed to get this job—"

"You ain't paying 'em," he said.

"My man is. His money is my money—"

"You sure about him being your man?"

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a tight grimace. Killmonger decided to blow up her spot and teach the brat a lesson. Every bully needed to be humbled in their life. There was no better time than the present for her.

Portia put a hand on her hip and waited for him to run his mouth some more.

"He had a little quickie with your homegirl Tiana at a hotel while everyone was having lunch."

He cocked his head and waited for the explosion and waterworks to begin. Portia stared at him hard, then started cackling.

"Think I'm joking? I followed them there," he said.

Portia snorted and grabbed her stomach to control her laughter. He waited for her to notice that he was serious. She patted his chest with her right hand and he rolled his eyes with impatience.

"The look on your face right now… as if you got me with something!" she heckled.

Portia wiped her almond eyes and touched her chest. Her diamond nails glittered and that cool exterior returned in full effect.

"I sent that bitch there myself," Portia said.

Killmonger's brow wrinkled, and Portia gave him a little twisted lip pout. Then she grinned.

"Aw, I'm sorry boo boo. You really thought this was a gotcha moment. Ever hear of keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer? Tiana is a free-loading cunt… yeah, I said cunt like the white girls do. She's not my homegirl, just competition who has been trying to be me from day one. I let that heffa into my inner circle to keep her on a leash. Quinton is going broke and all of this…?"

She waved her hand above her head.

"All of this shit is about to disappear soon, so to teach her a lesson about coming for what I got, I'm letting her have that limp dick brokie. She thinks she's on the come-up sneaking around with him, but I fed her fake bread crumbs to that nigga. Lied, and told her we were having relationship problems, and that I was worried that he wanted someone else. That little worker hoe really thinks she's better than the queen bee. I stayed on the yacht on purpose so she could make her move on him. Now she knows shiny things aren't always diamonds with that weak peen. In her mind, she thinks she has him and his money. The reality is, she's with a broke faker. Checkmate, bitch."

Portia guffawed and pointed to Killmonger's face.

"I respect you for trying to break my heart to humble me, but you can't play a player," she said.

She shoved him out of her way and strutted up the stairs, tooting her ass out so he could see it jiggle as she walked. Stopping halfway, she looked back at him.

"I'll act nicer with the staff just to make you feel better," she said.

Killmonger chuckled and shook his head. Baby girl was cold-blooded. Respect. He eased his big body up the steps and did quick surveillance all around the ship. Portia acted better with the servers, but she was still icy with the other mercs.

The next few days were dull and humid.

Boredom set in with the women, as the men only drank, ate, and slept for hours on end. Killmonger observed how Portia maneuvered around Tiana. Deadly sweet. It was like watching a scorpion slowly poison a frog as it rode the weaker creature's back. The shine of being with Quinton wore off Tiana, and he caught her brushing off the advances of her secret lover when they thought no one else saw them around the yacht. Portia knew everything that went on between them, orchestrating their dismal affair right under the noses of everyone present.

New Year's Eve rolled around and the trip was nearly over. He had to admit that the assignment wasn't as troublesome as he thought it would be. Quinton hired a fireworks crew to meet them on a separate boat at a rendezvous point in the middle of the ocean. Killmonger sent his mercs over to check out the other smaller ship with metal detectors, heat sensor devices, and a thorough inspection of the crew while he scuba-dived under the boat to sweep for explosives and hidden weapons. They inspected the fireworks being used, too. When one of his team helped him out of the water, he pulled off his scuba gear, and Portia watched him undress. Her eyes grew enormous when his scars came into view. The shiny lumpy brown flesh decorated him with a deadly artistic beauty, displaying every life he had taken in his line of work. He walked across the deck, dripping in seawater and muscles. A hunger grew in her aroused eyes to see more under the wetsuit.

"All safe," he said, whisking past her, carrying his air tanks to a rack.

He took his time pulling off the rest of his wetsuit, shaking his thighs, and grabbing his dick through his tight trunks to adjust the weight there.

Quinton walked over, clapping his hands together.

"All good?" Quinton asked.

"You can have your show tonight," Killmonger said.

Portia flounced away, shaking those ass cheeks, and his dick jumped in his trunks. The last few days she'd been a lot more suggestive with her behavior toward him, teasing him with flirty glances, and tugging on her swimwear suggestively in front of him that had Killmonger undressing her in his mind at night. He jerked off on his bed after taking a shower from scuba diving, imagining himself bending her over a railing and spanking her ass, rubbing his dick tip against her while she glanced back at him with those spoiled eyes and luscious, pouty lips. She needed to be punished. Needed to be on her knees and sucking his dick. If she complained about his length choking her, he would slap her and train her to show some respect for the gift of having his length stretch her mouth.

His erection was harder than steel and he kept playing an image of her begging forgiveness for being such a bitch. Killmonger wanted to cum all over her face and mess up that illusion of perfection she had about herself. Knowing what he did about her for nearly a week, he already understood that she would try to break his resolve and manhood down to control him. She needed a strong Daddy to put her right, and the thought of her sucking his balls while she stared at him with insolent eyes sent him over the edge, and ribbons of hot cum shot all over his hand and midsection. His dick was still hard as he beat it again, thinking of her pussy contracting all over his erection. She just had a way about her that made him want to tame her. Break her down. Force her to submit and sit that plump ass on his face.

He rolled over, groaning into his pillow, angry that she had reduced him to playing with himself when he was supposed to be overseeing his men. Cleaning up quickly, he went topside to check on the action above. Quinton and his guests had all retired for late afternoon naps to prepare for the evening's festivities. A fancy seven-course Mediterranean meal was planned for the New Year's celebration and they invited all the mercs to join in the fun with their shifts.

Portia wore her alabaster bikini again with a coral beach wrap skirt. Diamond earrings decorated her ears and a huge blue diamond necklace sat on her neck worth more than Killmonger made in a year legally. She toned down her make-up, going for a natural look, and the switch-up was extraordinary. It softened her face more, and she became even more beautiful.

Killmonger ate his fill of the gourmet food and allowed himself one glass of champagne before changing shifts with another merc. He kept his dark clothes on and strolled alone along the uppermost deck. The ship captain ate from a plate and Erik glanced over at the fireworks ship. He lifted the work binoculars from his chest and stepped back outside to observe the water and sky. No moon. Just stars stretched across the heavens, sparkling the jewels all over Portia.

The fireworks show started at eleven-thirty for a slow countdown to midnight. Killmonger positioned himself on the deck overlooking the stern. Below him, the rich guests gathered with more champagne and small desserts to watch the show. It was spectacular. Fireworks had never impressed him before, but he found himself looking at the sophisticated light show over the sea. Dazzling shapes and styles of explosives brought a magical ambiance all around them. Portia squealed and clapped her hands like a child, often pushing her face against Quinton's shoulder whenever an explosive boomed too loud and scared her. She looked cute while enjoying herself and Killmonger wondered why she couldn't be like that all the time. A certain type of sweetness exuded from her, as if she had put away that mask of cool she always wore, just to be a regular woman having a good time.

A server approached Killmonger with a tray of champagne.

"Why not?" Killmonger said, lifting a glass.

He drank it down and kept his eye on Portia, enjoying the fireworks.

Portia gulped down another glass of champagne and watched a firework turn into a rose in the sky. She clapped and oohed and ahhed to her heart's content. It was a beautiful way to end a relationship. A part of her actually felt a little bad about dumping Quinton after the trip. He would find someone new with a lower income bracket, hopefully, someone who loved him for who he was and not his wallet. The poor schlep was the type of dude who used money to buy his way into the quality of woman he wanted, which was not who he needed. Perhaps if Portia had remained a small-town girl working finance at a bank or small business in her old hometown, Quinton would've been deemed, in her mind, the catch of a lifetime. Alas, that was not the ocean current she rolled in. His ego was big, and he felt entitled to beautiful women simply because he had a dick and some money. Cultivating a personality, hobbies, or real solid friendships was not in his wheelhouse. Trophy girlfriends would never bring him happiness.

The champagne bubbles in her flute tickled her nose. She glanced over at Tiana who looked seasick from too much liquor in her system. Maybe there was some hope for Quinton being with her enemy. Everyone deserved love.

Portia was about to go check on Mimi in her cabin before it hit midnight. She gave the Pomeranian a doggy sedative to keep her from anxiety with all the fireworks noise, and she worried her fur baby would be frightened without checking in with her. The crackle of a spectacularly loud firework drew her attention to the sky again. A chain of enormous fiery lights popped off, and she glanced at her dainty Patek Philippe watch. It wasn't midnight yet for any kind of grand finale. Unless something bigger was about to erupt in the sky after that volley of bright multi-colored lights. She clapped and heard a loud popping sound.

"Did a firework not go off?" she asked.

Her girlfriends shrugged before a gigantic explosion rocked the bow of the ship that was not part of the show. The yacht lurched, and Portia fell to her knees off-balance with her platform heels. Smoke and flames filled her shocked eyes. Everyone nervously headed toward the front to see what the hell happened and more popping sounds commenced from behind them. Tiana fell on top of her with Carlos. Portia's two other friends shrieked and ran, cut down by a hail of bullets through their backs. Portia pushed the limp and bloody woman off of her legs and shoved Carlos away too. The man's eyes looked up at her with a lifeless stare, and Portia screamed. She stayed on her hands and knees to keep low while looking up toward the higher decks. Killmonger had a modified M249 up and shot toward the sea targets. The fireworks ship exploded into a reddish-orange fireball, blazing the night sky with more flames and thick smoke. Parts of that ship flew over onto the deck of the yacht. One of Killmonger's men shot a grenade launcher from his weapon, aiming for some enemy Portia couldn't see on the dark water.

"Portia! Stay down!" Killmonger called out to her.

She did what he said and hid under Carlos and Tiana again, trying not to lose it as their warm blood dripped all down her legs and pooled at her feet. She swiped some of the cooling blood from her limbs and wiped it all over her throat to make herself look injured and played dead on the deck. Quinton ran toward the side of the yacht, and Portia wanted to follow, but the volley of intense bullets whizzed over her head. She covered her face, hearing loud splashes of water and yelling. The mercs around her scuffled with people who had climbed aboard. A powerful arm lifted her up by her waist.

"You been hit?" Killmonger asked.

"No!"

A merc near Killmonger took a shot between the eyes and dropped in front of her.

"Let's go!" Killmonger yelled, helping a server go with them.

The attackers cut the server down in mid-step and Portia realized with horror that all the guests except for her and Quinton were in a dead bloody heap all across the deck. She only lucked out because two bodies fell on her, shielding her from becoming human Swiss cheese. Another of Killmonger's team ran past them to fight, giving cover. Killmonger led her to the secret emergency door that held the military boat.

"Wait! I have to get Mimi!" she yelped.

"Fuck that dog!" Killmonger yelled.

Portia pushed back on the tears that welled up in her eyes. Her poor baby was locked inside her little travel kennel. She'd die all alone in her crate without her Mommy. The yacht tipped to the side, knocked by another explosive. Killmonger helped her into the emergency boat and made her put on a life vest.

"Wait here," he said.

"Don't leave me!" she shrieked, clutching his free hand with desperate fingers.

"I have to check for other survivors on the yacht's crew."

Her heart thudded in her chest so fast it made her gasp for air. She sat inside the boat and grabbed one of the gray emergency blankets and pulled it around her, hiding down low in the boat in case an armed pirate burst in. Portia was small enough to look like a lumpy seat. The odor of smoke crept down to where she was, and after some time, she worried Killmonger was dead. She wanted to wait another ten minutes for him, and then figure out a way to get the boat out onto the water by herself before the entire yacht sank into the sea.

It became hard to breathe under the blanket. She made a little breathing space for herself where she could still be covered up, but the smoke from the fires above seeped down to where she was. The sounds of shooting had stopped. Silence took over, and she debated about going out to see if the pirates had left. Time kept ticking, and the boat listed. Adrenaline had kept her going. But now the tears flowed.

The emergency door burst open, and Portia held her breath and stayed perfectly still. Mimi's woozy and weak bark yapped for her. She threw off the blanket and Killmonger was there, carrying Mimi's travel kennel and a backpack. He handed Portia the dog and tossed the backpack on the boat. Pressing a few buttons on a side wall of the yacht, a release ramp opened and slid down toward the water. He pushed the boat more, and it slid easily with a quiet splash. The yacht leaned further over and they would have to hurry to avoid being sucked down with it.

Killmonger untied ropes that secured the boat to the off-ramp. His face was full of concentration and determination to get them out of there. He put the safety on his weapon and leaned over to drop it in the boat when a masked man wearing dark clothing similar to Killmonger's uniform charged him, jamming his AK-47 under his throat and choking him.

Killmonger flipped the man over onto his back, punched him once and whipped out a Glock from his waist, and blasted the man's forehead. Blood and brain matter splattered, and Portia was too shocked to scream. Killmonger leaped into the boat and started the quiet motor, guiding them away from the yacht. She watched the burning luxury boat slowly sink as they bounced across the water. The pirate boat that attacked them sat on the other side and she thanked God there was no moon because the flames from both ships burning distracted their attackers from seeing them. Portia closed her eyes and let the cool sea breeze dry the sweat of fear all over her. The further away they were, the safer she felt. Her breathing returned to normal once the yacht and the surrounding madness became a tiny shiny speck on the horizon.

Killmonger checked some guidance apps on his military watch computer and took them toward some uninhabited Greek island chains. After about forty minutes, they hid their getaway boat on a small rocky isle inside an island littoral cave that made Killmonger feel secure staying there until he could contact help. Waves had eroded away an opening in the limestone, creating a sea cave that hid and protected them from the elements. He stuck a small headlamp on his head, giving them the only light source to look around. Killmonger handed her one too, and she placed it around her forehead. He dragged the boat once they hit soft sand. The cavern was dark and warm, like a womb. There were flares and a bulky charged satellite phone on the boat.

"I'll use the phone tomorrow and shoot off a flare for rescue when it's safe. We may have to stay out here a few days," he said.

"A few days? Why that long?" she said.

"That was a coordinated attack. They'll be looking for survivors all night and tomorrow. They knew exactly how many people were on that yacht, and you and I are no longer there. It was a hit… on everyone," he said. "There's also a storm moving in and that will hinder rescue efforts."

"Maybe they'll think we drowned and just go," she reasoned.

"They will sweep for floating bodies. Trust me."

He stopped and looked at her hard. She had opened Mimi's crate and held her frightened dog on her lap.

"Portia… Quinton set this whole thing up. I saw and heard him talking with the hit squad when I grabbed Mimi. He left with them on the attack boat."

Portia shook her head.

"No… that's not true… Quinton's a tech guy. He doesn't know pirates and shit…"

"He's going to disappear like he's dead, too. Collect on all the insurance he had on everyone there and that yacht. You told me he was going broke. He fixed his financial problem by getting money for you, your friends, and his billionaire buddies. The men he hired are going to make sure you and I are dead, so we don't snitch on what really happened."

Portia looked down at Mimi and felt the blood rush to her head like she was going to pass out.

"I can't believe this. He killed all those people to save his ass financially."

Killmonger pulled out a cold bottle of water from the backpack he brought and handed it to her.

"Can we last for three days out here?" she asked.

He nodded and showed her a wide variety of goods stored on the boat.

"There's enough food on her for several days that could last a week if needed. Since there are only two of us, we can eat as much as we want and stretch it out if we have to. We have fresh water… blankets. Toilet paper, sunblock, bug spray. We're good. Just have to keep hidden from the clean-up crew."

Killmonger sounded confident, and Portia inhaled deeply. He saved her life and would protect her on their…

New home. She looked around the boat again. There was plenty of room on one end for them both to stretch out and rest. The weapons attached to the hull could thwart a small army. Portia sipped a little water, gave some to Mimi with a cupped hand, then placed the dog back in her kennel. She prayed her fur baby didn't bark after the sedative wore off completely.

Killmonger made soft pallets of extra blankets for them to sleep on while she turned off her light and stepped out of the boat. She walked back to the water. After rinsing the blood off of her body and shoes, she returned to him, and they both stretched out in opposite directions. She felt him move around on his end. Lifting to see what he was doing, she caught him taking off his uniform. He stripped down to his black boxer briefs and huddled back up under his covers. Portia changed positions and crawled to his end when her body spasmed. She rested against his back, spooning him to capture some of his warmth, hoping the shaking in her limbs would stop. Her body moved with uncontrollable, jerky movements and she felt cold. Killmonger faced her quickly and put his arms around her.

"What's happening to me? My arms and legs keep shaking," she whispered.

"You're going through adrenaline withdrawal. Shit was crazy that you went through, and your body was all keyed up for action. It's trying to get back to equilibrium."

"How do you seem so calm? Shouldn't you be shaking too?"

"I'm used to it. Don't worry. It won't last long."

He opened up his blanket to her, and she eased her face against his wide chest. The keloid scars were smooth and slippery-feeling against her skin. His heartbeat was a steady drumming to her ears. Her shallow breathing eventually evened out to match his, and she could rest calmly next to him. The scent of his skin had a soothing musk odor, some cologne mixed with his own sweat, giving off an intoxicating smell. He adjusted his body to give her more room, and she closed her eyes to sleep.

Waking up hours later, she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her with the softest brown eyes. For the entire yacht trip, he always wore a scowl on his face with narrow cruel eyes that held disdain for her. Now… she looked at another man completely. A roar of water drew her attention back toward the opening of the cave. The light pastel colors of dawn greeted them with shades of turquoise and honey yellow bleeding into a blood-orange tapestry. The rising tide rolled in, gently pushing their boat against the sand, rocking their bodies like a mother's hand tending to a cradle. Killmonger had the boat fastened to a stake that he pounded into the sand to keep them from floating out into the sea while they slept.

Sitting up, she admired the view. The clear, tranquil water sparkled as the sun rose higher and the colors in the sky changed into new brighter hues. It took Portia's breath away, bringing tears to her eyes. The rust color of the cave's roof seemed to glow. In the distance, she noticed other island chain formations that probably never had a human walk on them. She wondered if the awe she felt was the same awe that God had when the heavens and the earth were made complete. The scene before her looked like a painting. She spent most of her life drinking, partying all night, burning through rich men's money, and sleeping hungover until noon. When had she ever witnessed a sunrise like the one spread before her sober eyes? What a way to enter a new year.

Porta laid her head back down and noticed that her bikini top had fallen off in her sleep. She was topless in front of him. Throwing an arm over her chest, she glanced around for her knitted top.

"Don't trip," he said with a grin.

He reached above his head and handed her a small container of grape juice. She took it and drank down the sweetness.

"Hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head no, the fruit juice helping revive her blood sugar. Pushing the blanket away from her lower body, she luxuriated in the balmy comfort of the air. Tilting her head back, she noticed an opening at the top of the cave that dropped a beam of early morning light on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the inside of her lids turn red from the sun bathing her more. A calloused finger stroked down the side of her cheek. Portia's eyes popped back open as Killmonger dragged his index finger against her skin. She lifted a finger and traced one of his keloid scars across his right pec. He was her hero. During the shootout and explosions, he had his eyes on her, making sure she was safe.

Killmonger dropped his head down and kissed her. She could taste toothpaste and fruit juice on his tongue. A static sound interrupted their joining, and he pulled away from her to pick up the satellite phone. He spoke in a rushed tone, giving coordinates and relaying a warning about the attack and Quinton's hand in it. There was a personal locator beacon with a strong GPS tracker he was going to keep on so they could find them. She closed her eyes and rested her head on her hands, letting Killmonger deal with everything. Soon after, he shut the phone off to save the battery. Turning to her, he stretched his arms and sighed.

"It's going to take time to reach us. The storm is sitting over Crete and moving slowly. Rough waves."

"But they are coming?" she asked.

"Yes."

Portia fell onto her back and stared up at the cave roof with relief. People knew where they were and would find them.

"I want to eat now," she said.

Killmonger pulled out MRE packages and small disposable plates. She dumped out a packet of southwest beef with black beans and tortillas. There was a chocolate banana nut muffin and apple slices mixed in a spice sauce, a cheese spread, and peanut butter. Portia made herself a burrito, and the food gave her the calories and energy she needed. Killmonger made them coffee over a small propane stove he put together and joined her with his own meal.

"Not bad," she said, stuffing the muffin in her mouth.

"We can have a white meat chicken salad with crackers and pasta for lunch," he said.

She wolfed down her burrito and wiped her lips. Finishing quickly, she let Mimi out of her cage and fed her from the packs of fancy dog food stored inside the kennel with her. She let the dog run around in the cave's interior to relieve herself. Mimi stayed away from the water and occupied her attention quietly by digging holes all in the back of the cave. Looking around, Portia was happy to see there was nothing inside the small cave with them except sand and the tiny beach made by the water lapping inside gently. Killmonger pulled out a large tan camouflage netting.

"Step out. Grab your top," he said.

Portia stunned herself by noticing she had stayed topless the entire time eating. She tied her titties up and draped her wrap skirt around her neck into a dress. She slipped on her platforms and picked up Mimi. Killmonger covered the boat up with the netting, blending it into the background of tan sand.

"Put the dog in its kennel so we can look around and I can plant this tracker up high," he said.

"She'll bark," she said.

Killmonger rolled his eyes.

"Then carry her," he said.

He pulled on his pants, and she eyed the bulge at his crotch. His flaccid state was bigger than Quinton's erect state. Portia checked herself for thinking sexy thoughts in their dire situation.

Dire?

It wasn't, really. They had all they needed and good people were coming for them. He placed several water bottles, a Glock, the satellite phone, and the beacon locator, inside a small pack and slung it around his shoulders. She followed him out of the cave, stepping on vast rock formations on the side to keep from getting her platforms wet. Climbing up the side of a hill, they made their way through brush and mostly barren land. There weren't very many trees and the ones that existed were small, or dead, and had fallen over. She kicked a few on the ground and they crumbled from contact, drier than the heat cooking their skin. Killmonger was already a shade darker, and it looked good on him. His biceps were beefy and darker brown. Her own dark skin took on a red tinge with her rich color. At a glance, they looked like tourists ambling about looking for t-shirts to buy for back home, not shipwrecked targets for death.

"Ow!"

Portia tripped on some sand and eroding rocks, bumping into Killmonger and almost knocking him over.

"Watch it," he barked.

"Sorry! I wasn't trying to bump into you—"

"Take those ridiculous shoes off so you can walk better—"

"It's too hot."

"No, it's not—"

"Yes, it is—"

They fussed like an old married couple all the way to the highest point of the island. He stuck the tracker in the ground and checked to make sure it was working properly. Gazing out at the sea around them, Killmonger lifted binoculars from his chest and peered out further.

"See anything?"

"No."

"That's a good sign, right?" she asked.

Portia put Mimi down so the dog could sniff around and urinate. Mimi happily sniffed and marked territory. When she padded over too close to a drop, Porta scooped her back up. There didn't seem to be any wildlife at all.

"Do you think there are a lot of snakes on this island?"

"Maybe. I haven't seen much scat or midden left behind," he said, searching the sea with the binoculars.

"What's that?"

"Scat is animal shit, and midden is their refuse… the food they've nibbled on and left behind. I only spotted some anthills and one bird so far. Not much to sustain a lot of snakes."

He glanced over at her.

"Just walk hard. Your vibration will scare them off. Keep that rat dog in sight, though."

"She's a Pomeranian."

"Looks like a rat dressed in a hot ass fur coat."

Portia looked at her baby. Mimi did pant. She grabbed a water bottle from Killmonger's pack and poured some on the dog.

"Whatchu doin'?! That's for drinking," Killmonger scolded.

"She's hot. I don't want her to get sunstroke."

He held his hand outstretched.

"We're surrounded by cool seawater. Dunk her rat ass in that. Stop wasting what we need to survive!"

Portia pouted.

"I wasn't thinking about that. I just wanted to help her."

"Let me do all the thinking then…" he grumbled.

They explored more, trekking around the entire island in under an hour. She dunked Mimi in a pool of water that came up from a natural aquifer of fresh water near the cave entrance. Killmonger grumbled again, so she walked her dog into the seawater and cooled them both off. He shut his mouth when she removed her beach wrap and frolicked with Mimi until a small wave knocked her poor pooch over. She walked out of the water dripping with her diamonds glittering, making her look like a Black Venus rising to the mortal world. He licked his thick lips, and she shuddered at the thought of that mouth on her body. Killmonger was bossy and so easily annoyed by her. However, he was also attracted to her and Portia played into that whenever he gave a tired sigh with her antics spoiling her fur baby. She made a little condo property for Mimi with her dog kennel. Moving it far back in the cave, she gave the dog a bowl of water and dried dog food with space to call her own to keep away from Killmonger. She decorated the front of the crate with pretty rocks and shells she collected and doted on her little one until Mimi fell asleep, farting from all the snack treats Portia gave her to help with the stress of a new environment.

He checked in with the rescue team on the phone and made them lunch. She sensed he felt more relaxed after finding fresh water on the island that they could use if they needed to. They ate in silence together, sitting on the sand and staring at the water. To be stranded on an island with a trained killer wasn't such an awful experience. Underneath the rough exterior was a man who held her hand to help her move around the island, and who also made sure she was hydrated. He pointed out natural formations of some of the island's geography around them and double-checked for snakes as they stepped over fallen trees. She gripped his arm when they moved into questionable areas, and at one point, she slipped her hand into his as he guided her back down toward the cave.

She took a nap on the sand and woke up to a crackling fire. Killmonger had gathered wood and dried brush, making a cozy glow that couldn't be seen from the narrow opening of the cave from the outside. They watched a new sliver of moon rise and a blanket of blue-black sky rest over the island for the night. She grinned and nibbled on chocolate chip cookies, humming and rocking on her backside as she ate. He laughed at her.

"What?" she said

"You look like a little kid on a girl scout campfire trip," he teased.

"Funny, because I used to be a girl scout."

"A girl scout… and you didn't know what scat and midden were?"

"I must've missed that part. I just looked good in the uniform," she said.

He smiled, and the bright, genuine light it brought to his face made him even more handsome. Killmonger was fine, no doubt, but there was something else deep within him that made him even more attractive. She thought of the way he lifted her up with one arm, shooting with the other as he rushed her to safety. His eyes always slid over to hers, even before the attack, when they were floating in tranquility. Portia had teased him sexually, doing things to get a rise out of him. It had started as a dismissive act, letting him see what he would never have in life, and it changed into active taunting, daring him to step up to the challenge so she could smack him down and belittle his audacity to think he was ever on her level.

Sitting in a cave with a peaceful campfire, her gaze on him brought clarity. She had been attracted to him the moment he put her in check on their first meeting. People always did what she wanted, and he had been the first man to push back on her attitude. She picked at him every time he showed up in her face.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said.

"You couldn't afford my thoughts," she said in a playful tone.

He smirked, then added more wood to the fire. Her eyes drifted up to watch the smoke go through the hole in the high roof.

"You think they're done looking for us? Should we even have a fire with the smoke floating… they could see it."

"By now, they should think we're dead. They never saw us leave on the boat and the yacht is at the bottom of the ocean by now, so they can't even check to see about the emergency escape, even if Quinton mentioned it. I won't have this going for long," he said.

"I like it," she said, holding her hands and feet up, warming her fingers and toes.

They didn't need the extra warmth. The cave was already cozy, but it brought comfort to their predicament.

"I'll sleep out here tonight and keep watch," he said. "I'll have to hike around a bit too, to check in other directions from the top."

She looked around for a blanket or pallet on the sand. There was nothing to lie on. Perhaps his soldier ways let him sleep cross-legged and upright. Her eyes became drowsy. Standing and stretching, she stared out at sea, admiring the sizeable chunk of island rock that faced across from their private paradise.

"I thought a storm was coming," she said.

"It is. Can't you feel the temperature drop? The sky is changing too. Won't hit until later tonight, and it won't be as bad out here. The sheer rock of that island over there is shielding us, and the tide doesn't get very high in here. We're good," he said.

She nodded.

"Night," she called.

"Night," he said.

She checked on Mimi, then snuggled inside the boat with the blankets. Killmonger went and grabbed the solar lights that he sat out in the sun all day and brought into the cave, jamming them down in the sand near the boat. He even posted two by Mimi's kennel because Portia told him the dog was nervous about being in the dark. Her mind tried to stay positive. She wondered how bad the storm could be if the hole at the top of the roof flooded with rainwater. Killmonger didn't appear concerned, so she let the thought drop.

After an hour, a soft splash of water forced her to lift and see what the noise was. Mimi hated water, so there were no worries there. Portia spotted Killmonger on the far side of the cave, splashing his naked feet into the liquid heaven.

"Lord," she whispered into her own mouth, watching him.

He was totally nude and moved his body with an assured grace that made him look like Poseidon returning to the sea. She could not stop staring at his taut glutes and powerful thighs. His keloid scars were all over his back, too. Killmonger walked in waist-deep before dunking his head underwater and wetting his locs. He ran a hand over his hair and shook them, stretching his arms out wide, traveling deeper into the sea until she could only see his head. Going under a few times, he moved closer to shore, and she noticed the small bottle of liquid soap in his hand. He washed all over, rubbing his muscles, and cleaning between his toes and elsewhere. Rinsing off, he dropped the bottle of soap on the sand for later and put on his pants without his boxer briefs. He padded back over to the dying fire and stopped when he saw Mimi sitting near his previous seat.

"Getcho ass back in that kennel," he ordered.

Mimi only sat and stared at him.

He sat down next to the pampered pooch and placed Mimi on his lap. Portia giggled and hid under the blankets.

Smoke and flashes of a blazing fire blinded her eyes. The shouts of fear and the odor of fresh blood grounded her back on the yacht. She had moved so slowly. Champagne and the thrill of fireworks put her in a loopy mood and the horror of the attack froze her and probably saved her life. Tiana and Carlos ran and Portia stood there like a statue, her mind trying to fathom what was wrong with the scenario before she was tackled by the running dead and free-falling onto her back.

"No!"

Portia shot up inside the boat, her heart jackhammering in her chest. Her throat clogged with a scream as she relived the attack. Staring at her shaking hands in front of her face, she expected to see blood and brain matter again as another scream ripped from her lips.

"Hey, it's okay… shhh… it's only a nightmare…"

Killmonger jumped into the boat with her and the fading dream had her beating his chest thinking he was an attacker. The lucidity made her claw at his face and he pulled her into his chest, rocking her, cooing soft words into her ear to bring her back to reality and the safety of the cave. Mimi whined behind her and the sound of the dog snapped her to the present. She fell apart then, wailing into Killmonger's chest, her mouth wide open and unable to close as if the terror she endured would crawl out of her throat. Quinton tried to kill her. Her body could've been at the bottom of the sea becoming fish food and no one would know the truth of what he did to her or all of their so-called friends. Portia moaned and jammed a hand against her mouth.

"You're good, Portia. I'm here and we're okay. Just a bad dream…"

She looked up at his face, then wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned back in the boat, letting her rest on top of him. He stroked her spine and his rough hands on her bare skin brought her back from the brink of totally losing all control of her emotions. She wiped her eyes and covered her face, weeping quietly against him.

"I was waiting for this. Some people take longer to process what happened to them. You tried your best to act like you were okay all day," he whispered.

Her breath shuddered as his soothing voice and hands brought her into a calm state.

"I was so scared," she said.

"I know."

"It was so fast and… I couldn't move…"

"You did well considering all that was happening at one time… even wiped blood on yourself to fool them. That's thinking on your toes, Ma. Most people just scream and holler, then get caught up in the shock. You ran and did what you had to do."

"Thank you for saving me," she whispered.

"That was my job."

His fingers dragged up and down her spine, making her skin feel tingly and warm. She crawled off of him and snuggled into his side, hiding her face in his chest. Portia enjoyed being there. It felt comfortable and safe. He stroked her arms and tried to leave her side to return to his post, but she gripped his arm and pulled him back next to her.

"Don't go," she said.

A soft sprinkle of rain fell on the water. The storm had arrived. The pleasant patter of droplets striking the sea eased her mind and body. Her nightmare faded, easily forgotten, while cozied up against him.

"Try to sleep," he said.

Killmonger rested his head on the makeshift pillow his work jacket made and she stared into his eyes. The solar lights gave her a soft ambiance to look at him with.

"By tomorrow evening, they should be near enough where I can shoot a flare so they can pick us up. Hang on to that thought," he said.

She nodded into his shoulder and released a final shudder that loosened all the tension in her body. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her fingers across the top of his naked chest, feeling the slick contours of his keloids against the pads of her fingertips. Tracing her fingers under his neck, she took a bold step and ran her finger across his full lips. Raising herself higher, Portia kissed him, enjoying the sensation of warm plush fullness outlining her own plump softness. His lips smothered hers as he took over the kissing. She expected a feral roughness with him, but he was buttery soft and so gentle with her mouth. Even his large tongue surprised her with how seductively slow it was exploring the inside of her mouth. Their kisses were languid and so unrushed that she could almost fool herself into thinking that they had been lovers in some other past life together. There was no clumsy fumbling newness as their tongues sought an understanding of their changed physical relationship.

She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, and he smiled. He kissed his own trail down her face and onto her neck where he buried those sharp gold teeth and nibbled on her throat, shooting sparks of pleasure down to her toes and back. Groaning out loud, she delighted in his fingers pinching her nipples through her bikini top. She untied it and freed her breasts. His hand palmed their fullness, and she glanced down at his crotch. His dick tented his pants. She helped unfasten them, releasing his erection. It was a hot, rigid thing in her hand and his head fell back, allowing a deep groan to release from his mouth.

"Stroke that shit," he huffed into her neck while untying the bottom of her bikini himself.

She moved over as he wiggled out of his pants and gasped when she saw his dick and balls together. Her pussy throbbed while looking at the heft and length. Pre-cum pearled at his tip and ran down the sides and she helped slicken that big dick in a hurry, eliciting more guttural moans from him. She liked the pleasurable sounds falling from his lips and squeezed her fingers around the bulbous tip. The hole there opened wider and clear fluid drizzled onto the gap of her thumb and index finger.

"Fuck, baby," he gasped when she twisted and tugged under the ridge.

His fingers found her clit and her pussy wasted no time becoming slick and wet, her folds opening up for him like a blooming rose. He stared between her legs, licked his lips, and flashed those gold slugs. She lost control of the tremors making her body weak for him. Slick sounds met his fingers, and he played with her pussy lips until she was begging for him to do more.

"Play with your pussy. Lemme see you do what you did on the boat when you were teasing me," he huffed.

Her diamond-crusted fingernails made her pussy so pretty for him. She could see his arousal grow in his glassy eyes. She rubbed her clit, then held her folds open. He licked his fingers and stuck them in her mouth. She sucked on them, showing him everything she could do for his dick. He closed his eyes and his lips parted. Panting, he played in her mouth. His big dick twitched and jumped against her thigh, spewing more pre-cum.

"Lemme play in this pussy," he begged.

She opened her legs, and he inserted two fingers inside of her opening, gently testing the limits of what she could take. Portia whimpered when he started tapping on the sides of her walls, flicking his fingers back and forth like a butterfly fluttering away. He knew how to stimulate pussy. Killmonger wasn't rough or jerky with his movements either. He watched her face to read what she could handle from him and kissed her often, slow and steady, binding Portia to him like he was kissing a magic spell into her mouth, conjuring more pleasure from the nerves that woke up all over her writhing body. He fingered her pussy and sucked on her nipples, turning her body into mush that the sea could wash away with the tide.

"Listen to that pussy… fuck… I knew this shit was good… fuck…" he moaned.

"Killmonger," she cried out as his fingers hit spots in her that hadn't been touched in so long.

"You loved showing this pussy to me. So fat in this bikini. Letting me see these pussy lips all the time… teasing me��"

He pulled his fingers out against the clenching she began doing around them. He sucked her juices from his fingers and admired the frothy wetness that glistened all over her puffy folds. Slapping her vulva, he stood up and forced her to her knees.

"Suck this dick," he commanded.

Portia obeyed, jumping to her knees and swallowing his dick head like it was her last meal in life. He pushed his dick in further and her mouth stretched around it. She pressed her hand on his stomach to control the depth, but he slapped her face. The shock of the sting aroused her, and she stared up at him with heated eyes and a throbbing pussy.

"You gon' take this dick how I feed it to you… spoiled bitch. Now suck on it… put those fucking hands away. I want all mouth, Portia."

Portia opened her mouth wider, and he went in deeper. She gagged while trying to suck and slurp, and her eyes watered, but Killmonger slapped the other side of her face, disappointed with her performance.

"I thought you were better than this. You can't handle this dick?"

Her forehead creased with anger. She always gave world-class head. No man had ever complained about her oral skills. She gripped the root of his dick and he slapped her hands away.

"I said all mouth, and I meant all mouth!"

He pushed her back, and the anger that sat on his face excited her. Killmonger wasn't pleased at all. She licked his balls and kissed her way back to his dick again to try better. Taking her time, she licked around the slit and under the head, coating her tongue with all the pre-cum that dripped from him. He dragged his tip across her lips, making them glossy, and nudged the seam of her lips back open.

"Let's see if you can do better," he said.

She adjusted her knees with the blankets and sucked on that dick tip, using her full concentration. Her suction with her lips improved, and she even grazed her teeth gently around him to switch up her performance. He treated her like a little puppet that needed her strings pulled when she didn't suck to his satisfaction. She worked her ass off to get a groan, a moan, or a "Good girl," to drip from his sexy lips. He patted her head and sometimes pulled her braids to force her lips to do better.

"How are you gonna pull that nut outta Daddy when you stay playin' like that? Huh? Is this your best?" he asked.

She popped his dick out of her mouth with a torrent of saliva falling onto her breasts and pouted.

"Not as good as you thought you were. Do better," he said, shoving his dick back in.

Portia wanted to cry. She gave him grade A head, and it still wasn't up to par. All the tricks she had used over the years to get men off failed her. There were moments when she thought she had made a breakthrough, but he grumbled and told her she was not even close to getting him off.

"Look up at me when you suck that dick," he said.

Frustrated, she gazed up at him as he deep-throated her neck. That gorgeous face and big ass lips had her pussy clenching on nothing but air. Her walls felt so swollen and ached for his dick to lay her out. A few tears streaked down her face as her frustration grew.

"That's a good girl. Now take some more of Daddy's dick. Show me you can follow directions," he said.

She wanted to please him so badly. He played with her nipples and breasts as she worked her neck, throating him down as best she could. Her loud gawking echoed throughout the cave.

"Jaws getting tired?" he teased in a mean tone.

He pulled his dick out and glared at her.

"Tell Daddy you're sorry for letting him down with that mouth," he demanded.

The gruff tone ignited the ache in her clit. He threaded the braids in the back of her head with the fingers of his left hand and tilted her head while fisting his dick. He gently yanked on her hair.

"What I say? Tell Daddy you're sorry for that trash sucking," he barked.

"I can do better," she pleaded.

"You had a long time to show me, and it didn't happen."

He grunted and stared at her ripe lips, his right hand working that length like he was ready to burst. Gripping her head with his hand, he bared his slugs.

"Sorry, Daddy—"

"For what?" he gasped, narrowing his eyes as he brought his tip closer to her whimpering mouth.

"—for not sucking your dick right. Please, I can suck your dick so good!"

Portia fondled her left breast and groped between her legs to flick her clit. Begging him for a chance to prove herself was the only goal she had in life. She needed him to cum… couldn't take her next breath until he was satisfied. Killmonger had scorn written all over his expression.

"Daddy, I'm sorry…" she whined.

"Oh fuck, dassit, dassit!" he shouted.

Hot cum shot out in thick ropes all over her cheeks and lips, accompanied by a roar from his throat that enhanced his release. She opened her mouth to catch the last drops of his orgasm and she came all over her own fingers while enjoying the pure ecstasy on his straining face.

"Damn, Portia… oh… baby… shit!"

Another streak of cum shot out, and he aimed it for the other side of her face. His ejaculate dripped down, and she rubbed it onto her chest, showing him how much it meant to have him all over her breasts. He gave a low laugh and stumbled back.

"Whew… damn, girl. I was tryna hold back for so long. Your head game is fucking superb."

She licked her fingers and then stared at him.

"You were playing with me?" she asked.

"Not at first. You're used to simps being satisfied with the bare minimum. I'm a grown-ass man who needs you to show and prove with this dick. It's not for the weak, and you showed the fuck out."

He lifted her up, and she didn't want him to do anything else until she had wiped her face and chest off with a wet wipe. Killmonger hugged and kissed her afterward. They stood in the boat, necking until she couldn't take any more. She climbed him like Santa Claus was bearing gifts and wrapped her legs around him.

"I want you sitting on my mouth," he said between desperate kisses from her lips.

She slid down his body and he situated himself comfortably on the blankets. Portia squatted over his face and planted her pussy on his lips. He let it rest there, feeling the wetness all over before humming and moaning into her flesh.

"Ooh," she moaned, scissoring her clit.

He slapped her fingers away, and she looked down at him. The glow from the lamps made his eyes a liquid brown dream, and he slathered that wide tongue up and down her folds, circling her clit with the tip. He held onto her ass cheeks and she mewled and bit her bottom lip to keep from hollering out his name. Killmonger slapped both of her ass cheeks before sliding his hands under and over her thighs to lock her down on his tongue. He made it stiff, and she lifted herself to let him insert it nice and snug inside of her. Cradling her breasts, Portia went up and down and he fucked her with tongue, lips, and groans that vibrated her folds.

"Killmonger!" she yelled, not caring if pirates, snakes, Mimi, the Coast Guard, or God heard her cries of pleasure.

His tongue was delectable on her pussy and inside of it. The strength of his hands supporting her, his burning gaze rooting her to his lips… everything about him gave her chills. The effort to cum was minimal. Her orgasm shattered her ability to think clearly anymore. She babbled something or other like she was talking in tongues at her old church back in South Carolina. Bucking and yelping made no difference. That man was going to turn her pussy out. She whimpered and fell forward, unable to move any limbs. His laughter at pleasing her bounced all over the cave and she joined him, reveling in the joy that their bodies could share with one another.

Killmonger held Portia carefully in his arms as they kissed.

The taste of the deepest part of her stayed on his tongue and he shared the gift of that with her. She clung to him as if she feared him disappearing into the wet, rainy night. He had to do a patrol and fished around for night vision goggles he found stashed in a sideboard on the boat. Putting on his pants and combat boots, he didn't bother to wear a t-shirt and just tossed on his black jacket. He stuffed the satellite phone into an inside pocket and strapped his Glock around his thigh.

Portia watched him under the blankets, staring up at him with so much lust that it tempted him to forego an island sweep to stay with her. Grabbing an unfinished water bottle, he knelt down next to her and pressed his warm lips against her forehead.

"Keep it hot for me," he said, winking at her.

He wasn't finished with her by a long shot. They only experienced oral sex, each taking turns to taste and learn the other's private parts intimately.

Killmonger trudged out of the cave with Portia's scent on his beard. He placed the night vision goggles on once he was out of her sight. He hiked around, searching the sea even as a light rain came down on him. Without Portia being with him, he could get around fast. He turned on the phone and checked for any missed calls from the Greek Coast Guard. They were operating under extreme weather conditions on their end, despite the mild display on their side. Killmonger was glad that they found a place to hide that shielded them. He hoped the bad weather stayed outside of Crete and didn't follow their rescue unit.

Nothing unusual appeared on the horizon. Confident that they were in the clear, he took a moment to let the soft rain bathe his face. He hiked back to Portia and rinsed himself off before getting back into their boat bed with her naked again. She threw her arms around him like she was his woman, greeting her man after a hard day's work.

Oh, how the tables had turned!

Hiding away turned her into a bubbly, humorous woman who sought beauty all around her. It mesmerized him, watching the glow on her face as the sunrise brought her to tears that morning. She was thankful for the plain food they had to eat, and she didn't complain too much about their situation or bug him about checking the phone more than he did. His leadership and take-charge attitude allowed her to fall back into a space of just living in the present. He liked that version of her and wondered if the ice princess persona would return once they were rescued. Killmonger hoped not.

He sank his tongue back in her eager mouth and they kissed for an hour, stopping to catch their breath and caress each other. Her eyes became dewy for him and she couldn't stop touching him or being hugged up next to him. He made her lay back and played with her clit, dipping his finger inside her pussy just to watch it contract around his fingers, trying to keep them inside.

His dick became a turgid beast and hung heavy between his thighs. There were no condoms available. He had some on the yacht where he thought he might need them if he found a babe to his liking, but the only woman who turned him on was Portia. On the ship, he knew there was no way they would ever hook up. He wanted to fuck the boldness out of her back then, just to wipe that bitch queen attitude off her face. It baffled him at how quickly she wanted to submit to his domination of her body with his. He had suspected she wanted to be dominated, but not that fast.

Killmonger could've busted a nut all over her from the first ten minutes of sucking she did, but he pushed her to the limit to see if she would fight his heckling of her throat game. How he was able to keep control over his release was a miracle. He was ready to blow his load when she spit on his dickhole and cradled his balls in her hand, staring up at him with those formerly insolent cat eyes. Killmonger kept pushing her until she broke and gave him what he wanted. Her apology made him cum so hard. All he could think about was her telling him to shut the fuck up when he told her about herself. That woman got on her knees and sucked the glory out of his dick. Begged to please him. That shit amped him up.

Portia held his dick in her capable hands. They both wanted to fuck.

God!

Nice tits. A dangerous ass. Mouth game beyond ridiculous. How was Quinton not in that woman twenty-four-seven the entire time on that yacht? Portia walked around with that prize pussy, advertised it to the world all week with skimpy swimsuits, and Killmonger regretted not throwing caution to the wind and just stepping to her. Game peeped game. They could fuck and fight afterward. She was most definitely throwing hints he could get it on the yacht, but he stayed professional.

He leaned down and sucked on her neck. She panted, squirming against him, and he fingered her pussy slowly until she squeezed her eyes shut and her mouth fell open in agony.

"Fuck… I wish I could give you what you need, girl," he groaned into her ear.

She touched his scars like they were precious to her.

"You can," she said in a hushed voice.

"Without a condom?" he said.

Her gaze didn't flinch, and she pouted those succulent lips.

"I almost got killed. I'm stranded on an island with a mercenary. A hurricane could blow through here and end us both tonight. I have nothing to lose," she said.

Shit.

Killmonger regarded her face to make sure she was serious.

"I'm checked for STIs every three months," he said.

"Six months for me. I've been with Quinton for a couple of years. We normally use condoms and have unprotected for special occasions only. He's a germaphobe and I'm pretty sure Tiana was his first outside fuck. I'm on the pill, and… well… like I said, tomorrow isn't promised. This entire trip taught me that."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Trust. I want to. Been wanting to."

She grinned and ran her hand over his locs, rolling the end of one between her fingers.

"I have, too. All that teasing was to get your attention."

"You had it the moment you walked on board that yacht. I didn't like you… but I liked your confidence," he said.

He played with the end of one of her braids and fondled a diamond hair jewel.

"Are you like this in private, when you aren't being theatrical with all the spotlights?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Unguarded. Open. Friendly."

"Sometimes. I run with a crowd that I have to have a protective shell with all the time."

"Sad life."

"What about you? You also put on an act. You're not mean all the time," she said.

"I'm direct. There's a difference. My job is life or death in precarious places with dangerous people."

"Have you ever lost an entire team before?"

"No. This was a major hit. Practically overkill. There were about ten men compared to my five, and they were using high-grade explosives. Most pirates want hostages or the ship itself. Those people came there for one thing. Do a wet job and bounce. You and I aren't supposed to be alive, Portia."

He cradled her in his arms. The scent of her hair was sugary sweet, like some exotic fruit and nutmeg. Their ardor cooled with their private thoughts and Killmonger listened to the rush of water lapping onto the cave shore. The wind picked up and howled down from the four-foot hole in the ceiling. He stayed awake and Portia slept deeply, the rise and fall of her chest soothing to him. If she had another nightmare, she'd wake up with him holding her. At two in the morning, he snuck away to patrol again. Heavier storm clouds accumulated in the distance and he expected stronger weather soon. A boom of thunder and spidery streaks of lightning zig-zagged across the sky. He popped the collar on his jacket and used his night vision goggles. A vast emptiness stretched out before him. For all he knew, they were the only people in the entire world. The cell phone had poor reception and the battery life was low. Hell, if no one showed up, they'd have to chance it back on the water. There were paddles and he'd get them to Crete one way or another with his own arm power once all the gas was used. He flipped on the locator beam's distress signal light. Survival was second nature to him. They would make it out.

Killmonger took his time going back to the cave. The darkness, the wind, and the rain comforted his mood.

No more civilian gigs.

He took the job as a favor to Clark, but he missed the offensive action of being in foreign countries. He'd give Clark a piece of his mind when he got back. The men he put together for Killmonger should not have allowed those killers to get that close. He had four men on water detail in all directions, and they allowed a boat to hit them swiftly and deadly. They were all executed, so he doubted they were in on the take. He would've caught on right away that it was a set-up when he first arrived. The attack crew had to have used a submersible to plant the explosives against the hull. It was something he would've done.

A heavier thunderstorm arrived, and he jogged back to the cave.

Portia was still asleep. Mimi was up, digging holes in the back of the cave, too distracted to bark or whine at him for attention. He took off his jacket and boots, climbing back beside Portia for warmth. She had curled into the fetal position under a blanket and looked so vulnerable. The cooler air and rain on his body made him shiver a bit, and he went to make another fire.

By early morning, the storm kicked up and the tide level in the cave increased. It wasn't enough to make them leave because the giant boulders and jagged smaller island formations surrounding the cave kept the larger waves from crashing to shore on them. The gigantic grayish-black clouds made the interior darker, adding to the dreary atmosphere as large raindrops showered their private beach.

Portia ate a cold-weather MRE of scrambled eggs, fruit bars, oatmeal, and a bland trail mix. He made them coffee again and ate his own meal before catching some sleep. With no phone reception and the bad weather making visibility terrible, he could afford to rest for an hour or two. He listened to Portia bathe on the other side of the cave. She hummed with a pleasant voice and spent some time by the fire alone with her dog.

The storm kept them quiet, and they became occupied with other things rather than each other until she found a kit of tiny board games inside a sealed bag. There were checkers, chess, Tic Tac Toe, and a deck of cards. They played speed with the cards and hunkered down to play checkers before lunch. Hunger and lunch skipped them as they got into a serious chess match. Later, they both played with Mimi, letting the dog chase them around the cave until Erik shouted bloody murder and flailed his arms around.

"What is it? What is it?" Porta shrieked, scared out of her wits.

"A spider dropped down on me!"

Portia blinked a few times, then burst out laughing. He swiped at his locs and a quarter-sized furry brown arachnid fell out of his hair and scurried on the sand. Mimi chased after it and they both beat pieces of wood on the ground trying to smash it. The dog gobbled it up and Portia grabbed her stomach from laughing so hard.

"Your big butt was scared of that little thing? I thought a tarantula fell on you!" she cackled.

"It's all the legs that creep me out, and they move real sneaky," he grumbled, embarrassed that he showed a weakness in front of her.

"Poor baby," Portia said, patting his back, "Mimi saved you."

He chased after Portia and lifted her over his shoulder, spanking her backside for teasing him. Another bigger spider dropped from the roof and landed on Portia. She damn near came out of her own skin trying to swipe it out of her hair. Killmonger let her run around like a chicken with its head cut off to teach her a lesson about making fun of him. She walked around with the heebie-jeebies afterward, terrified more spiders would come raining down on them like a horror movie. Rain, thunder, and spiders were forgotten when they crawled back into the boat together for a nap. She traced the shape of his scars with her fingers again, and he rested his chin on her head.

"I know this sounds crazy, but I really like it here with you," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

She nodded against his chest.

"I thought I would go stir crazy, but I'm actually grateful to sit still. Weird, huh? No TV. Internet. People. Just peace. No distractions. No one to impress or look good for. It feels like we're Adam and Eve here."

"No apples or snakes, though," he joked.

"What do you do when you don't work?"

"I sit still. Like this."

"Where?"

"That's classified information."

"Really."

"The less you know about me, the better."

"Is Killmonger even your real name?"

"No."

She never asked for his name. He was glad. She took the hint.

"We'll never see each other again after this," she said.

"No, we won't," he said with finality.

"You make me laugh, and you're a skilled chess player."

"You're not too bad yourself."

Portia sat up and took off her bikini again. Her eyes were loving and drank in his face. She helped him undress, then kissed him all over his face, touching his chin, and giving her lips to him before kissing down his chest, following the trail of hairs below his belly button until she had his dick in her mouth. She bobbed her head, and he said her name softly, praising her for how good she made him feel. Pushing him back, she held his dick upright and aligned it with her opening. He held his breath as she sank down on him. She grunted when she reached the bottom. His dick had her folds stretched all around him tight, creating a snug suction as she went up and down, taking her time. They locked eyes, and the arousal overwhelmed him. He gazed at their connection like he was in a daze and her pussy made his thickness shiny and slick. Portia rode him so well that his back arched and he lifted to press her against his chest as he thrust into her. Up and down she went, caressing her nipples, those expensive, icy-looking fingernails highlighting the hidden treasure that she was beneath all the posturing.

He had looked down on Portia before meeting her, his disdain at her Sugar Baby ways clouding his judgment on who she really was as an individual sans the glitz. Fucking him like that in a hollow cave on a lone island proved to him she was worth pampering and spoiling. If he had the money, he'd spend it on her himself. The pussy taking care of his dick was priceless.

"Turn around," he gasped.

Portia lifted and swung her legs the other way, leaning forward as she wiggled her backside for him. He palmed a fat cheek and her pussy swallowed his dick. She rocked back on him and he was blessed to watch her ass jiggle and his dick stretch her out at the same time. He whimpered in his throat with his entire face scrunched up at the intense pleasure. She rode the tip of his dick, and then placed those diamond nails on her ass cheeks, spreading them wide so he could see her pussy work. He slipped his thumb in her ass, and Portia moaned. She drenched his dick and the gushy sounds harmonized with his groans.

She showed out.

Circling her waist, she twisted her pussy on his dick and he couldn't take it anymore. He slapped her ass and forced her onto her hands and knees. Clapping her cheeks was the goal, and he made Portia call out his name as he gave her what she needed. Her pussy became disrespectful, and he tamed her depths, gripping her waist and deep dicking her nice and slow.

"Killmonger… Killmonger… Killmonger…" she panted.

The need to dominate surged in his loins. Flipping her over, he forced her to take the dick she so richly deserved. The pillow princess vanished and in her place was an erotically in-tune woman with full-body engagement. He threw her legs over his shoulders and cursed at how satisfying her pussy felt all around him. She had to have diamonds on her walls because whatever amount of money rich men spent on her wasn't enough. Her grip on his dick had him moaning and choking up his curse words in his throat. She took him deeper and his glutes clenched tight, helping him pump death strokes into her. The cave was full of squelching and grunts, and he watched their shadows moving on the cave walls from the fire. Her hips wiggled seductively, and he hunched down low to kiss her lips and feel her breasts smashed against his chest. They were beyond fucking at that point, moving into the primal state like they were the first man and woman to ever make love.

Scooting to her side, he held her legs up and stroked her walls from a new angle that knocked the sense out of her. Those pouty lips stayed open and her eyes took on a glazed look as if she couldn't believe what was happening to her. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and she glanced down to watch his dick ruin her. She chewed on her lip when she saw what was happening to her pussy. He snaked his hips and hit another angle within her and she called out to God. He stayed working that spot, stroking it until his body became a stiff plank focused on only one task: making her cum hard on his dick.

She rubbed on her clit, and those pretty nails had his balls moving.

"Baby… I feel it… 'bout to cum…" he gasped.

"You wanna cum in my pretty pussy?"

The wantonness in her voice urged him on.

"Pussy so good… fucking me so good… dick so hard…" he chuffed with abandon

"You want to make a big mess in my pussy?"

Her voice electrified him. It pushed him to give her his best and yet it challenged him like she was internally comparing him to others and he was coming up short. It was arousing, but it irked him too.

"Take it… take Daddy's dick," he grunted.

Her eyes changed, became coquettish, and it threw him off. His skin was on fire and dripped with sweat, and the sound of her voice encouraged him to tame that pussy. She dared him to. Portia's face transformed into a woman who wanted some Daddy dick to control her. Her right hand fondled the nape of his neck and those long nails scraped there with seductive pressure.

"I don't know if I can take all this dick the way you want," she taunted. "So big…"

He groaned, and she latched on to that sign of weakness.

"You're taking it… all this dick," he grunted.

"Are you sure? I'm trying to make it all fit for you," she said, all breathy.

"Oh, fuck!"

What was she doing? Playing coy? She acted like some virgin who had never had dick before. Her tone was ultra-feminine. She tucked the nail of her index finger between her teeth and looked down at his dick stretching those sweet walls. Her eyes were wide with wonder at the sight, and that coquettish energy fed him what he needed. Dominance.

"Nobody fuck you like this?" he grunted.

She shook her head and kept her eyes on his dick, with that finger still in her mouth.

"Fuck my pussy," she said.

She looked at him with sweet, innocent eyes.

"Goddammit!" he cried out. "Spread those pussy lips!"

Portia widened those sticky folds and the sides of her fingers glided along his dick as he gave her all that he had left. She kept her finger in her mouth with her other hand and her beauty pushed him to the brink. He mounted her again in missionary and his sweat fell on her like the rain falling on the water. She kept her legs up, that pussy open, and that damn lone finger between her lips. Her reckless eyes gazed at him and his dick swelled.

"I'm cumming! Oh shiiitttttt, I'm cumminggggg," he yelled.

He shoved his hips forward and Portia pursed her lips. She squirmed and lost the battle to hold on.

"Ohmigod… Killmonger!" she shouted.

Her head fell back and her pussy contracted with strong clenches all along his erection. Their shouts of pleasure intertwined and became one with the back and forth of their bodies squeezing and throbbing together. He caught himself before collapsing on her, pulling out his dick and fisting the last of his cum all over her clit. She was a pool of sweat and satisfaction, and they gasped for air, staring at the cave ceiling. The rain continued to fall.

Portia curled against his chest.

Sleep came fast.

He woke up, and she was gone. So was Mimi.

Killmonger called to them before putting on his clothes and grabbing his pack. It was only early evening, and the rain had stopped. Fat gray clouds still squatted over their island, but the storm's driving power had moved on. He found Portia and Mimi at the peak near the beacon.

"Went for a walk," she said.

He sat down next to them and pet the dog on the head. Mimi licked his hand. Pulling out the binoculars, he checked the sea. A cool breeze ruffled his locs. The wind was still strong, and the water had a few whitecaps.

Wait…

There!

A ship.

Killmonger honed in for the telltale signs of Coast Guard markings. There was a Greek flag waving from the gray and white ship. Greek lettering in big white caps spelled out Hellenic Coast Guard. He watched it approach to make sure it was the real deal before pulling out the flare gun and shooting it. Dark orange smoke shot up high in the sky.

"It's them?" Portia squealed.

"Yep."

She hugged Mimi, and he turned on the emergency cell. The power went out, but he didn't care. He held Portia's hand, and they walked down to the cave. There was nothing to do but push their emergency boat into the water. It had just enough gas left to power them out into the open sea. Killmonger didn't want to wait for them to send a smaller boat. He needed Portia in a safe place fast with Greek government protection.

They sped out on the water, bouncing on the choppy waves. Porta kept looking behind her like she wanted to keep the image of their island in her mind. He gave her his outer shirt to wear on top of her bikini. She curled her legs under her wrap dress.

Killmonger aligned their boat against the large Coast Guard ship and the crew helped Portia up on a side ladder. He tied their boat to the larger one and knotted a rope around Mimi's dog crate so a crew member could help the dog get on board. Finally, he climbed up himself. The captain of the ship greeted them and gave them both blankets and hot coffee. Portia was damn near teary-eyed and she pressed herself against Killmonger, afraid to leave his side.

"Come inside," the captain said when the weather picked up outside.

They followed the man into a busy interior and sat down on cushioned seats that felt good after sitting on the sand and a hard boat bottom. A crew member handed them mugs filled with a thick Greek soup. They ate and Portia asked to use the head. She was led away further into the interior. The weathered-face captain asked him some questions and Killmonger's sixth sense kicked in.

Something was wrong.

There were too many men on the ship not dressed appropriately. Only the captain and a lieutenant had on a proper Greek Coast Guard uniform with their ranks on them. The others had dark clothing without rankings or insignias. The captain gave a weak smile and the perspiration on his forehead didn't go with the cool interior. Killmonger kept his tone normal.

"How soon can we make it back to the mainland?" he asked, thrusting his empty mug out for more hot coffee.

"It will take time. The weather has been tricky. We almost lost your signal," he said.

Killmonger nodded and moved over to a window. He counted the other men outside to get an accurate assessment of what he was up against and thanked his lucky stars that he opted to keep his Glock under his jacket. When he contacted the coast guard for help originally, he kept his identity vague, pretending to be a guest of Quinton. The attack team must've intercepted the Greek Coast Guard for their own nefarious use as a getaway ship. It had become a death trap for him and Portia.

Portia returned, all chipper. Her ice princess personality snapped back like a rubber band. She glanced at him and he pretended things were all good.

"Hey, baby, put Mimi back in her cage. We don't want her running around," Killmonger said.

The forced affection in front of the others surprised her. She walked over to the dog kennel near him and bent down to place Mimi inside it. After she locked the crate, Killmonger slipped an arm around Portia's waist and gently had her sit next to him.

"More soup?" The captain asked.

"No, thank you. When will we get back to Crete? Or is Athens where we're headed?" she asked.

Portia looked at Killmonger, and he sipped on his coffee to keep from answering right away.

"Would you like to rest, Miss Keith?"

The nervous lieutenant sensed the tension that had risen in the galley.

"There's an empty bunk you can sleep in until we reach port," the man said.

His name badge said Makris.

"You should go lay down. I'll check on you later. Take Mimi with you," Killmonger said.

Portia caught on that something was off. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"If there's a door, lock yourself in there," he whispered in her ear.

She kissed his lips and picked up Mimi. Portia showed no fear as she followed Makris. She played it cool and calm, like an iceberg. Good girl, he thought.

Killmonger had fourteen rounds in his Glock. He counted seven false crew members and only two regular ones. The rest of the original crew were dead somewhere on the ship or tossed overboard. He assumed Quinton had escaped on some other watercraft to separate himself from the killers. They wouldn't rush to kill them all until nightfall, with darkness as a cover. Something must've happened to their ship in order for them to risk hijacking a Coast Guard operation.

"She has heart medicine she needs. I forgot to bring it up from the boat we used," Killmonger said. The lie rang true to the men.

"We can have someone go down and get it for you," the captain said.

Vlachos. The captain's name badge gave Killmonger a second to look away from a bulky merc who sized him up.

"It's in a side slot in the back," Killmonger said, following the man out onto the deck again.

The bulky man climbed down the side of the ship and rooted around.

"The back," Killmonger called down.

The man held up his hands.

"Hold on," Killmonger said.

A few more killers came out to watch him as he climbed down. One in the boat. Six up top. Perfect.

"That boat has a lot of tricky compartments," Killmonger said.

A wave buoyed the boat, and they both lost their balance for a second. Killmonger pretended to dig into a slot near the side of the ship and unlatched the boat, letting it float away. He dropped low, pulled out his Glock, and shot the bulky man dead. The man fell over the side with a soft splash. Shots from above popped over his head, but he turned on the motor and glided around the other side. Once he reached the gap he needed, he slammed his hands around the front M60 7.62mm machine gun and blasted at the men. He ripped through four right away. One caught him slipping and clipped Killmonger in his shoulder. It wasn't enough to stop him, but the distraction gave Vlachos and Makris the opportunity to jump the last two killers and wrestle them. Killmonger zipped back toward the ladder again. He hooked the boat and hustled back to the top. Vlachos took a shot in the chest but apprehended one assailant. Makris knocked the gun out of another merc's hand and bashed his head against the deck floor, knocking him out.

Blood pooled and cooled all over the deck with the other dead men.

Portia ran out of seclusion and grabbed him so hard that it knocked the wind out of him.

"Your arm," she said, touching his bleeding wound.

Killmonger shrugged it off.

"We gotta help him," Killmonger said, nodding over to Vlachos.

Vlachos waved them away.

"Bullet passed right through," Vlachos said.

Makris helped the captain back into the galley and tended to both injured men with a first aid kit. They revealed to him the sordid story of how they ran into the armed men on their way to find them, coming across their distressed vessel that had stopped working because an engine fire left them stranded. The hijackers shot their initial crew of eight down to only two when they tried to fight back.

Killmonger was exhausted by the time he tried to rest on a bunk bed. Blood loss tired him out and so did Portia, who fussed over him with tears streaming down her face, thinking she had heard him being killed. She crawled on top of him despite his pain, too frightened to leave his side. He fell asleep to her soft humming and stroking of his locs.

Portia, Makris, and Vlachos arrived in Crete the next morning.

Killmonger had disappeared.

The military boat they escaped with was gone. She relayed the deadly adventure to the press and her photos were blasted worldwide. First came the press tours, then the exclusive paid interviews. A book deal followed along with a movie deal and three-part docuseries. She milked every opportunity to tell her story as the only survivor and was paid handsomely for it.

Returning to New York, she hid out in a penthouse for months, searching all over the internet for any trace of Killmonger. If it had not been for Makris and Vlachos corroborating that the man did indeed exist, she may have convinced herself that he was a figment of her overactive imagination. Two of the killers that survived the Coast Guard ship confessed to being hired by Quinton. A global manhunt seemed never-ending. When billionaires were murdered in cold blood, people cared. She attended memorials to all the victims, making sure she looked fabulous in Thom Browne and Prada fashion with her signature Chanel shades. Portia wasn't close to any of the people she partied with on the yacht, aside from Quinton. However, leaked photos from her private social media account showed merry faces prior to them leaving Athens on the first day of the New Year's trip. It brought comfort to the families, and they invited her to spend weeks in various billionaire enclaves where she spun stories about their rich sons being brave and attempting to save the women. All lies. But it gave the loved ones a sense of closure and peace.

After a year, her life returned to jet-setting and fashion weeks all over again. Her misadventure bolstered her popularity because of the glamorous photos of her being escorted from the Greek Coast Guard ship in her knitted alabaster bikini. For someone experiencing a traumatic event, Portia looked fashionable as fuck.

Media ate up the haunting tale of Quinton living a double life somewhere. Media blasted his life history around the world as the biggest true crime story to come along in years. Many speculated that he had drowned or killed himself because he couldn't be found anywhere. Portia guessed he lived in a country where he couldn't be extradited. The hoopla died down until her book came out. Then there was a buzz about the casting for the movie. Depression set in then.

Portia visited a few therapists, but none could help her cure the anger that sat in her spirit like venom that she couldn't spew out. She wanted Quinton's head on a plate. He needed to pay for what he had done. It didn't matter to her that the people he killed weren't her genuine friends. He ended human lives because of greed. She couldn't get over that he took the bitch route to jumpstart his fortunes. As smart as he was, he couldn't develop or create something new and amazing that made him rich in the first place. An existential dread lived in her gut. Portia couldn't free herself from the lack of justice. Jetting around the world with Mimi in tow didn't heal the pain. New diamonds, furs, and fancy cars lost their luster. Revenge burned in her soul.

She turned toward the dark web to search for Killmonger. Using some of her movie money, she hired the best ex-CIA and former Black Ops agents to help her find her mercenary lover. One former field agent told her the best that could happen was Killmonger would catch wind of her search, but no one could actually contact him. That was good enough.

The Swiss Alps looked like he imagined.

Cold, white, and jagged.

The job called for a remote location and this was as remote as it got. Killmonger rolled the late-model SUV into a long, isolated driveway that hadn't been plowed for a while. He parked when he couldn't drive any further, and dragged a large black duffel bag out of the trunk, along with an arsenal of small weapons in a backpack. The thick powdery snow cushioned and muffled his steps. All the lights were on in the mountain luxury chalet he came to. His target was inside. The cloudless night sky made the snow glittery with the moonlight and security lights surrounding the property.

Cold air made puffy clouds of his breath. His lungs burned from the exertion and altitude. He tapped his wrist computer and all the security cameras shut down within the chalet. The woman inside had a wineglass in her hand and talked on a cell phone, clueless that he was outside approaching with stealth. The lights in the interior winked out, then came back on suddenly. She turned her head and stared out through the large glass windows. Her eyes glossed over the valley below that was filled with snow that would have more dumped by midnight. Flakes had already fallen down on his way up a winding road.

He waited.

The front door opened, and the beauty stepped out in a long white fur coat reminding him of Goldie from the old Black flick, "The Mack". She still rocked expensive diamonds, and Ma carried herself like the ice princess she would always be.

Portia.

He stepped into the light and she grinned, relief creasing her brow and her lush lips spreading into the biggest smile. His heart dropped for a moment. She almost looked like she did back on their island.

"Killmonger," she said.

Her voice made him move toward her. She helped him with the small backpack and he hauled the duffel up the steps and into a cozy, warm interior. A fire burned in the fireplace and Mimi jumped around his legs.

"Hey rat dog," he teased.

He dropped the duffel near the door and lifted the dog. Portia took off her coat, revealing the slinky silver dress with the low-cut front he admired before he came in.

"Bring yourself over here," he said, dropping Mimi to the floor.

She sauntered to him, walking like a runway model, exaggerating her hips as she moved and draped her arms around his neck. He inhaled her lovely scent and memories rushed back of him and her alone… making love. Killmonger kissed her first, and she opened her mouth to envelop all the warmth of his tongue.

Two years.

They hadn't been in contact with each other in two years since he disappeared from her life. He went back to work for Clark and dropped off the radar soon after. The fame of their adventure dazzled his eyes when he went to a movie theater in Morocco and watched a film that was almost true. The actress that played Portia was gorgeous, but she lacked aloofness and sublime sensuality. Their sex scenes were amplified and gratuitous. There were long scenes of them fucking in water that never happened, and also one of them screwing on the Coast Guard ship. Also, untrue. The actor that was supposed to be him wasn't even a close approximation of Killmonger, but women loved him at the box office and the film became a blockbuster. The docuseries blew up, too. Portia became a media star and super-rich by doing nothing except being beautiful and caught up in some greedy foolishness. Some girls had all the luck with pretty privilege. The anomaly was her being a beautiful Black woman with an intriguing action-adventure-romance story. It did not shock him when Hollywood tried to white-wash the film by recasting Portia as a white blonde. That idea dropped, but they did cast a Black biracial British actress to play her. Think pieces blew up around that.

He got word of her searching for him.

It was only a matter of time. He thought of her often as he worked throughout the Middle East and West Africa. His notifications blew up during fashion weeks and he scrolled timelines to see what she had on and found out how her life was going. She dated often, but nothing serious. Her mystique intensified and everyone wanted her at their major events and parties.

He sensed her unhappiness.

Quinton, getting away with murder, rubbed too many white, rich people the wrong way. A Black man double-crossing billionaires and profiting from it... alive somewhere? Unheard of. Portia survived with the sting of betrayal hovering around her.

Killmonger smacked her ass, and she gave him the glass of wine in her hand. He drank it down, and she took it away, resting it on a side table.

The duffle moved.

Mimi growled and barked at the large black canvas bag and Killmonger knelt down, unzipping it. Stuffed inside was Quinton, tied and gagged. Portia picked up the smaller backpack she carried into the chalet for Killmonger. She opened it and he moved his hand around in it.

"Your choice of weapon, Ma," Killmonger said.

Portia lifted a modified Maxim 9 with a built-in silencer.

"What a way to ring in the New Year," she said, kissing him.

She dropped to one knee and peered at her prey.

"Hello, Quinton. Long time no see, baby," she said.

The iciness of her voice chilled Killmonger. Quinton's desperate eyes pleaded for mercy. She would give him none.

Portia zipped the bag up and stuffed the Maxim 9 back into the pack. She grabbed Killmonger's hand and pulled him toward some stairs.

"I'll save him for midnight when the fireworks go off. Right now, I want you," she purred.

Killmonger followed his ice princess. They had some reacquainting to do in the privacy of a luxury bedroom with fresh snow falling outside.

"Happy New Year," he whispered before kissing her all over.

A.N.:

Brought an oldie but goodie back! I first published this on here back on October 11, 2022, a month before "Wakanda Forever" came out. I thought I would expand this into a longer piece and indie publish it with some other stuff I took down from here, but I decided to put it up again because we need fun things to read in these daunting times with Cheeto dust back in office. Enjoy and please reblog!

[monochrome-chaos]

"Eh, Ol' Luci' wouldn't do that to me. It's jus' Mammon." The human smirked a bit, and this clearly made the Sin of Greed wince a bit at the humans words.

'Oi! C'mon Alacai! It's not just me! S-sometimes the others also get strung up there. Occasionally..' That was a lie. It was almsot exclusively Mammon up there. To a point where Alacai was confident that the chains were made specifically for holding the Sin of Greed in place.

'Besides, who's this pale looking chump you've dragged along? They barely look like they have a single grimm to their name!' Already Mammon was sizing Lucid up like he was something to be sold off. In which Alacai quickly put a stop to by standing between them.

"They're a lost.. uhh.. a lost person. They just need some help getting home, and I'm keeping an eye on them for now." This of course gained a skeptical gaze from the Demon, leering at Lucid from behind his tinted glasses. There was a tinge of.. protectiveness in there?

Definitely.

"I'm jus' waitin' on a call back from Solomon n' we'll figure it out. till then I was thinkin' of hiddin' him in me' room. Kinda like we did with Luke that one time." The human seemed to nonchallantly shrug his shoulders.

'Ooohhh yeah! I remember that!' Mammon chuckled a bit, a smug smirk on his face.

'Lucifer was REALLY pissed when he found out you and Beel were hiding an angel in your closet like that. Ah, good time. Damn I should have bet on you in that moment. Whod'a thunk some human could stand Lucifer up like that. Too his face no less!' Mammon looked all too amused, small tid bits of the human's past with these demons leaking out.

"If he gets pissy again, I'll jus' make him sit with m'pact with him. Simple n' easy."

There was no way in the 9 Circles that this man was Mammon. Most certainly not his universes version at least. Lucid raised an eyebrow at this, watching as Alacai set to freeing the demon from his piñata confines. “I see…Well, that is a better punishment given than the Lucifer I know. He usually just eats whoever pisses him off enough.”

If Lucid still had his wings out, they would have bristled at being called a “thing” or “it”. Not like he was unused to the same words from fellow angels, particularly the council. Instead of complaining the seraph simply crossed his arms with a huff, scowling.

Watching this Mammon suddenly scoop up and hug Alacai simply solidified Lucid’s belief that this man could not possibly be the Prince of Greed. Saying “thanks” and showing real affection was not in the scummy demons repertoire. But as Alacai asked Mammon to allow them to hide Lucid from Lucifer, his concerns at the gate resurfaced. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing between the two and the still open doors outside.

“L-listen, Alacai. I really do appreciate the help. But if your Lucifer is gonna string you up like that,” The angel gestured towards the chandelier, “or something else for sneaking me into the house, I really do not wish to put your safety at risk.” He then turned to the demon, frowning with uncertainty. “Or your safety…Mammon?” It did not feel right to call this guy Mammon. “You clearly are already in enough trouble for something else. If your Lucifer found out, I feel pretty confident to guess it would not be pleasant for either of you.”

Lucid could not in good conscience go through with this unless the other two were truly willing to face possible consequences for their assistance. He was indeed an odd one and far from home. The anxious energy toiling beneath the surface made the necklace disguised halo begin glowing faintly and produced a near inaudible low hum.

[ceruleanterrapin]

Happy pride month here's a doodle

[sysig]

Coming in to play! (Patreon)

[macksting]

I've met him in person btw and he's a fucking sweetheart

[ID: Text-intensive Twitter thread from the Shapeshifters chest binders Twitter account in reply to a post by artist and author Ursula Vernon. Vernon says, A non-zero number of you apparently did not know that The Last Unicorn was a book before it was a movie. It is by Peter S. Beagle. It is made of spun glass and fairytales and iron knives and there are individual lines that I would give my lungs to have written. Shapechangers replies, I saw him every year at NYCC for several years straight, bought something at his table, asked him to sign it, and we spoke. He remembered me from year to year, no small feat at that con. He remembered which stories he'd told me. One year I came back with a different gender on. He squinted at me a bit and said thoughtfully, "I've seen you before in this place." All I had to say was, "last year you told me the story about the inoshishi." And his face cleared, and he leaned in with a grin and told me about a German guitarist who he traveled with, twice. Who transitioned between the first and second time, so he'd gotten to meet this person all over again on the second round. It was a wonderfully kind way to let me know that everything was fine. I was fresh out of the closet and I needed that, and maybe he could see it. The Last Unicorn is the best book in the world and I will defend it and its author til I die. the end. /end ID]

I don't usually talk about celebrities; artists, when I do, and I'm keenly aware that one needn't be a good person to be a hell of a heartwrenching artist. But Peter S. Beagle has written a few of my favorite things in the world, he's an excellent singer and filker, and this Twitter thread was dreadfully important to me. I don't want it going away as Twitter becomes Shitter, because it's so often bad news, isn't it? It's important to me to share trans joy.

[fliesforeyes]

currently so insanely obsessed the thought of sleepy sex with spencer reid...

he got home late that night, finishing up paperwork took longer than he expected, finally arriving home at around 1 am. he believed he'd walk in to you sound asleep in bed, but instead he heard you turning, trying to get comfortable from the hallway.

"baby? you okay?" he whispered upon opening the bedroom door, watching as you shove the blanket off your upper body and sigh.

"can't sleep," you respond, eyes barely open, staring at the ceiling.

"i'm sorry," spencer mumbled, walking over the closet to undress. your eyes moved to watch him, your head turning on the cold pillow. he looked so pretty, as always, his hair tousled and messy from the stressful night, glasses slowly falling down his nose as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"could i help you?" he asked, setting his glasses on the nightstand beside your bed, lifting the covers to slip inside.

his hand quickly found your bare skin, sliding under his baggy t-shirt you wore to bed, pulling himself closer to you.

"how so?" you asked, breath hitching as spencer moved from kissing your cheek, to trailing his soft lips down your neck.

"like this?" spencer whispered as the hand resting on your stomach slid downward, fingers just barely slipping below your underwear.

"mhm," you responded, knees instinctively lifting and opening, giving his big hand more room.

spencer mumbled a sweet thank you into your skin as he kissed down your body, took off your underwear, made room and rested between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs. it was almost like he made out with your cunt, tongue swirling over your clit, hands gently holding you open. you heard him moan as you softly tugged on his hair, felt his efforts increase, you whined as he pushed two fingers inside.

spencer kept going until you finished, a little further, pulled away licking his lips after your thighs clenched from the overstimulation. he left wet, sloppy kisses on your thighs as he made his way up from laying on the mattress.

you kissed him once he settled beside you, fingers cupping his soft face, smiling as his own slid into your hair.

"wanna help you too," you mumbled, words slurred with sleepiness, eyes barely focusing on his face in the soft light from the window.

"shh," he replied, gently pulling you to lay on your side. spencer pulled off his boxers, shoving them away and off the bed. "gonna help us both, if that's okay."

you nodded into the dark, closing your eyes. spencer lifted your leg, placed his cock between your thighs, pushed it up against your cunt as he set your leg back down. his hand curled around your waist, his other arm sliding under your head as you settled closer against his body.

it was softer motions that did the work, spencer thrusting back and forth between your thighs, cock rubbing against your clit as he did so. your orgasm that followed was softer than before, your face tucked into his shoulder, quiet moans mixing with his own.

spencer came between your legs, a choked gasp leaving his lips as he stilled against you, fingers curling into your plush skin. you felt him lean away, his arm leaving your side. a whine almost left your lips, until you heard the sound a tissue being pulled out its box, felt spencers warm hand lift your thigh, the tissue wipe against your plush skin as he cleaned up his mess.

spencer curled back into you after tossing the tissue into the trash, felt your breathing slow as you fell asleep. he pressed a kiss into your forehead, silently noting how well this worked, tucking it away for a future night.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Low waisted jeans - Remus Lupin

summary: you don't realise you have bruises on your hips when putting on low waisted jeans, and your brother becomes protective over you. cw: allusions to sex, secret relationship, jily part of my remus x potter!reader secret relationship au! This is set before james finds out. read more on my marauders masterlist! 0.6k+ wc

"You're going to make us late y/n!" Marlene yells, Lily chuckling by her side as they wait for you to get ready. It wasn't your fault that you were still in class, and definitely not your fault that everyone had made Hogsmeade plans whilst you were in said class. You heard the door to the dorm open and slam shut, three extra voices added to the commotion in the room. You run around the bathroom, throwing off your tie and running your hands over your slightly crinkled shirt, hoping the outfit you picked out matched the image you'd created for it in your head. Kicking off your skirt, you shimmy on a pair of low waisted jeans. You pull the material of your shirt up, wondering if you should tuck it in or not before deciding against it.

Shrugging, you open the door to the bathroom, closing the closet door after stuffing your school shoes in its bottom compartment. You sit on the floor, putting on your sneakers and tying your laces. You glance at the boys who have joined your dorm mates in the room. James, your brother, sits with an arm wrapped around Lily's shoulder, whispering something into her ear. You pull a disgusted face, turning your attention to the others. Remus catches your eye and smiles widely, which you immediately return. Oh, the things you would do to stroll up and kiss him, but unfortunately, all that would do is expose your relationship to your brother. You push yourself off the ground, your shirt riding up your torso a little, and you walk into the open space of the room, putting your sun glasses on your head. "Okay I'm ready." You announce, attracting five pairs of eyes.

Sirius is the first to make a comment, asking "What counter did you have a fight with?" The comment confuses you, and you pull a face at the boy. "He means, how come you have bruises on your hips?" Marlene corrects, clearing her throat awkwardly. You glance down, view of your hips obstructed by your breasts. Huffing, you turn towards the mirror, jaw dropping just as James says "I think what they both mean is which boy fucked you so hard you have bruises on your hips?" You grimace at your brother's rephrasing, looking at the expression on his face through the mirror while Sirius barks out a laugh. James's jaw is tightly clenched, eyebrows furrowed angrily and you laugh nervously, watching as he slowly stands up. You definitely didn't think about the after effects of Remus having you bent over your desk yesterday, a hand slapped over your mouth despite the dorm's emptiness. At least the sex was good. Regaining your composure with a cough, you say "My sex life is none of your business, James."

James crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at you. "What, you don't think an older brother should care about their sister's romantic involvement with boys?" You grin, putting your arm through the handle of your purse. "No." You walk towards him, poking him in the chest. "And three minutes doesn't count as older." You open the door to your dorm, saying "After you, princess." Marlene and Sirius burst into a fit of giggles, and you can see Lily and Remus's unhidden grins from the corner of your eye. Three people stand up, following your brother out of the dorm, but one person stays behind, letting you close the door before approaching you.

Remus's hands land on your hips, massaging the bruises sorry with a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry about those sweetheart." He says, pecking your lips sorry. You hum, opening the door again, and shooing him out. "I think that smile says otherwise, Lupin. Causing me trouble with my brother..." He laughs at your comment, chasing after the others before you attempt a weak attack at him.

[oukabarsburgblr]

drabble...

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC), DAISUKE YUICHI (OC) x male reader

"I c-can't! I can't do this anymo- anghh! I can't cum anymore- aahn!"

His throat was sore from moaning, his neck bare with bite marks and hickies littering (s/c) and his legs were spread and forcefully held up by the redhead behind him. Said redhead tightened his grip under (m/n)'s knees, kissing his hair. "You can do more. We know you can." Sousuke mumbled.

Daisuke was panting, his pale skin now flushed pink with his eyes fixated on the twitching cum-filled hole he was fingering. (m/n) was crying, his cheeks wet and his bottom sore.

They've been at it for hours in this small janitor room. Their school clothings discarded aside, Sousuke was currently behind (m/n) on the floor, leaning against a closet and holding the (h/c)'s legs up, rubbing his dick on his (s/c) back.

Daisuke was on his knees, fishing out the redhead's cum from (m/n)'s hole with his fingers, frantically flicking his wrists and jabbing his digits in and out, rubbing against his rim, eager to enter the (h/c) for the nth time that evening.

(m/n)'s legs were sore, his thighs ached and his mouth was stretched open half an hour ago, two dicks competitively pushing past his lips. Even while having sex, the two were still childish and would argue for the smallest things.

"You're so hot, (m/n)." Daisuke kissed his chest. "So sexy." He purred, licking a stripe on his nipple, laying his tongue flat and teasingly dripped his saliva on the sensitive bud. "D-Daisuke- mmnhh! Enough please! Just finish up already- anghh!"

He mewled when Sousuke poked his tongue into his ear, licking and biting the shell and occasionally thrusting into the canal. This made him squirm against Sousuke, accidentally rubbing his backside onto the redhead's red and leaking tip.

"I'm gonna go in now." Daisuke grinned lewdly, his shirt was gone and there was only his briefs hanging on his hips, exposing his fat chest which had multiple teeth marks courtesy of (m/n).

The (h/c)'s head was hot and dizzy, his skin was warm but leaning against Sousuke's own burned even more, the redhead went wild on him earlier but now he was treating him like glass. Kissing and pampering (m/n) while rubbing his thighs as Daisuke slipped his wet dick inside the (h/c)'s slobbering hole.

"Ah aungh mmnn- f-fuck it's too much!" He threw his head back, his forehead sticky as he locked eyes with hazel, Sousuke gazing into (m/n), his long red bangs sticking to his face. The room was dark and small but he could still see the glint behind those hazel iris.

"Focus on me, (m/n). I'm the one fucking you right now." Daisuke roped the (h/c)'s lips into a kiss, pushing in deep inside him before pulling out slightly and began to pound his hips, thrusting inside (m/n)'s messy and twitchy hole. "D-Daisuke- mmff! Mnng haa!" He squealed when he felt Sousuke biting his neck, imprinting the shape of his fangs on his skin.

Sousuke's cock was rubbing harshly against the (h/c)'s lower back every time Daisuke pounded into (m/n). The bottom could feel the precum slobbering against his ass and dripping onto the wooden floor. The smell of sex was strong and evident, filling (m/n)'s senses as he opened his mouth in shock when Sousuke began to jerk him off, pinching his sensitive tip, forcing the (h/c) to cum.

(m/n) whimpered, his tongue getting sucked by Daisuke as milky semen shot from his tip, splattering all over the ravenette's stomach. His anus tightened and Daisuke moaned in surprise as he shoved his hips into (m/n)'s, his hands gripping his waist as he came inside the (h/c) while his tip was kissing his prostate.

The (h/c) panted, his tongue flat against his chin Sousuke pulled his hair, angling his head so he could kiss him. Their tongues were hot and lapping up against one another as Daisuke pushed Sousuke to the side to join the sloppy make out.

(m/n) choked, feeling two wet muscles probing his mouth, his own tongue weak and flat while thw two were shoving themselves against his teeth, his gums, his palate. Their salivas were dripping into his throat, forcing him to swallow their spit. Daisuke began to grind his cock that was still inside him, urging to start again before the redhead pushed his stomach.

"My turn." Sousuke gleamed as he pulled (m/n) onto his lap, angling his cock before letting him sit plush on the tip. "I c-can't. I really can't cum anymore." He whined, gasping and arching his back when he took half of the redhead's base in, slowly swallowing it inch by inch.

"You keep saying that seven rounds ago. Think' you can still take more." Sousuke teased the (h/c), his eyes concentrated on the plush of his ass meeting his crotch. "You're so f-fucking mean-" (m/n) whimpered before Daisuke comforted him, cooing at the (h/c) as he peppered kisses all over his face.

The ravenette took his spent penis and grabbed his own, slowly jacking them off at once as (m/n) mewled. He felt his jaw grabbed from behind as Sousuke whispered into his ear. "So I'm gonna start on the count of-"

His hips were pulled upwards before it was slammed on Sousuke's large thighs, making the (h/c) scream as the redhead began to force him to bounce on his hard cock. He was rough and loved to tease (m/n) whenever Daisuke was around, the ravenette frowning as he yelled at Sousuke for being an asshole.

More tears dripped from his lower lashes, staining his cheeks with salt other than the cum both of them had shot on his face earlier. (m/n) was having a hard time breathing, his walls were roughly dragged against Sousuke's base, his tip stabbing his insides. The redhead was only mean and rough whenever Daisuke was around weirdly enough.

Said ravenette began to shove his tongue inside the (h/c)'s mouth, swallowing his cries as the redhead behind him was enjoying the sight of his ass tightening and bouncing against his crotch. Cum dripped on his skin, he loved it when (m/n)'s hole was wet and dirty, loud squelching noises entered his ears every time he thrusted.

(m/n) didn't even realise when he alone had started riding Sousuke, his waist being gripped by scarred hands and his body was bending down. His lips were dry as his head was bobbing up and down on Daisuke's cock, the ravenette moaning loudly while gripping his hair.

Salty semen coated his tongue as he slobbered all over Daisuke's cock, his eyes and body tired as Sousuke continued playing with his ass. His cock was left twitching, drooling watery cum from his tip and he flinched when he felt his the dick in he was sucking came, choking and swallowing the semen that poured into his mouth.

Sousuke thrusted up against him one last time and he stilled, pulling out and spraying his dirty cum all over (m/n)'s ass. His bottom was now wet, dripping and had marks all over his skin. Daisuke also gently pulled his head up, his saliva connecting his tongue and the ravenette's tip as said person wiped the cum that dripped from his lips.

"Good job, (m/n). You're so good to us." He could only mumble back to Daisuke, his head blank and foggy. Sousuke kneeled properly behind him while propping him up. "You did great. The best for me. And for him."

He spoke while kissing his jaw. The (h/c) numbly nodded while Daisuke began to wipe him down and Sousuke moved to grab his clothes. He let the two take care of him, letting his fatigue catch up to his body as he promptly passed out. A rare sight of the redhead and ravenette working together to take care of the tired (h/c).

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

I got horny during separation process class. So boring but im learning ig. Imma disappear for the next two weeks but i think ill post another drabble in the next two days or so. I made this in two hours so it was a bit trashy or so.

It was hard to find a picture I liked. I think I'll replace it soon. I only like coloured pictures but manhwas threesomes panels are so fucking ugly I can't💀

Until then!

Edit: NOT ME GETTING FLAGGED RAHHHH💀💀 IVE BEEN WAITING. I still dont like the new picture and i will change it idc☺️

Edit 2: this ones better (?) the position is accurate too. Is this one getting flagged too?😭🙏🏼

Taglist : @tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @syyyy4ever

[st4rbwrry]

𝒲𝐻𝒴 𝒟𝒪𝒩’𝒯 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝑀𝐸?

ꔫ eren fails to realize you’re in love with him and has a hard time committing. until he doesn’t have a choice but to face his fears.

꒰ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ꒱ ꔫ . . .14.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, best friends to enemies to lovers + locked in a closet, angst, lots of kissing omgie, lotss of fingering, kreamer!, conflicted feelings, oral [ f + m ], praiseeee, spanking to a t, onyankopon cameo + small fight, toxicity, multiple orgasms, rennie gets jealous, miscommunication + arguments, car sex, use of the 'n' word, small daddy kink usage, self pleasure, biting kink, eren's kinda mean, dom / sub dynamic from both, college au, both are needy, relationship establishment, pet name usage [ baby, mamas ] , minors aren't welcomed! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

ꔫ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . got my heart broke so cheers to this one!

pretty boys with eyes like his never made you want to vomit. you adored every aspect of him, always something nice to look at. it's such a shame men who look like him, ungodly creatures, had the worst fucking personalities. or so make horrible decisions in life. fumble good women. why ruin your aura? standing mere centimeters away from him to protect it currently. though you feared he'd already tainted a portion of it. collateral damage was done. he ruins the psyche of your brain when it comes to men, or being in a relationship period. you don't want to be heartless. that lover girl in you wanted to bloom like a daisy, spread her wings like an angel, and showcase herself proudly like a peacock with the one person she's loved since she was a preteen. instead, you're dealt with being mean, standing your ground, and pretending he didn't have a lock on your heart beating with need. so, yes, looking at his face, the boy you were so dangerously in love with, made you want to vomit. 

him, stubborn as usual, stood broodingly in the corner of the closet with his strong arms folded over his chest adorned in a black crewneck tee, stainless steel chain around his neck as you study the adam's apple in his throat shift at the same time he swallows in the awkward silence. solid black jeans clad to his muscular thighs, heavy leather boots covering his feet. his scent is so masculine it fills the small space; moroccan mint with woody cedar musk. that heavenly umber hair of his long in his face, growing inch by inch as the months fly by, close to grazing his shoulders. 

you cannot believe your friends barricaded the door just so the two of you could talk out your 'issues'. which, in your view, only means an apology from eren for what he did. the night had gone fine. you, eren, and a couple of your friends all going out to catch a drift meet-up. connie had gotten his taxes back and blew it all on installing skull rims and wrapping his scion frs a pearl lavender. being there mostly to cheer him on as he showed off his precious baby. afterward, grabbing ramen from a spot in chinatown. everyone decided to kick it at your house since you had a spacious living room and all the games.

since you and eren haven't spoken in two months, you kept it cordial. well, that's a lie. briefly spoken. the interactions between you two are nothing short of hi's and hello's. ' how've you been? fine, you? yeah, i'm cool. oh, you got a new tattoo? yeah, the other day. that's nice. hey, congrats on the new home. thanks.' quite frankly, your friends have gotten sick of it. it was ruining the vibe of the group by the two of you being so distant. surrounded by each other in your dimly lit living room, high ceilings, and abstract art while soft rnb played soundly in the background. eren sunk comfortably into your velvet emerald green sofa alongside connie, ymir, and armin. sitting opposite of you while you rested on your loveseat with a glass of sangria in your hand. swirling it while smiling and laughing at any question picked from the stack of cards from a game titled 'we're not really strangers.'

you hated the internal connection you and eren held. no matter what was going on, listening to each of your friends spew nonsense and hysterical laughter, you couldn't keep your eyes off one another. you'd glance, admire his features while deep in thought about all the good things, then the bad. and when he'd catch you, more like feel your burning glare, you'd immediately revert your attention to something else. vice versa. both of you were saying a lot without saying anything. 

"꒰♡꒱, it's your turn!" the sound of your name being called kicks you out of your conscience, blinking to clear your view when you realize you'd lost it glaring into your wine glass. you clear your throat, your right leg that's thrown over your left jumping up and down. 

"oh, sorry!" you smile faintly, straightening your posture to lean forward and snatch one of the red cards from the deck. 

"you're getting tired, aren't you? you're always the first one to fall asleep," ymir pressed, chewing on her newly popped in gum as she manspreads, long arms sprawled behind connie and armin onto the headrest.

“it’s just the wine getting to me,” you suck your teeth, your statement being true. the alcohol in your system making you feel more things than one. flipping the card, you read what it says. 

"what are you attracted to that you know isn't good for you?" the inhale and exhale you create as you stare blankly at the card in your hand makes it all too known of the answer you wanted to say, but won't. unexpectedly, your sight scrolls to him, and it makes goosebumps arise on your skin from the look he doesn't give you.

“you're right, i am tired. think i’m going to head to bed.”

the crew watches as you remove the kuromi throw blanket off your lap and take a stand, eren’s eyes strong on your figure as you down the rest of your wine. ymir’s eyes shift between you and him, the urge to say something stronger than ever. though, connie beats her to it. 

“nah, sit back down. we need to talk.” 

you glare at him, eren doing the same, and everyone’s silent. connie leans forward, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to rub frustratingly at his temple. “let’s be adults and just address the elephant in the room.” 

“what are you talking about?” 

“you know exactly what i’m talking about. this silent, petty feud between you two has been going on for damn near two months and i'm sick of it.” 

“agreed,” armin nods, pushing his blonde hair away from his face, clenching his jaw in the process. “we’re too fucking grown for childish behavior. the two of you need to talk and situate your issues privately.” 

“they’re right. it’s fucking up the vibe of the group,” ymir pitches in. 

deep down, you hate to say they were right. but you still felt like you had nothing to say to him, let alone nothing to apologize for. if anything he owed you one. and you’ll stand on that because he’s fucking immature. 

“i pray y'all aren’t thinking i’m the reason for this. if we don’t remember, i’m not the person who fucked on another girl around the same time he supposedly wanted to date me.” 

that’s when eren picks his head up, throwing silent daggers your way. you’re trying to make him out to be a villain when that wasn't the case. “we had already established that we were just friends. i don’t know why you still have this insight that i, what . . cheated on you or sum?” 

the blood in your veins began to boil, scoffing angrily and prodding your inner check with the point of your tongue. “right, because i’m that delusional.” 

“stop,” connie squeezes his eyes shut, getting fed up even further. “this bickering shit is the definition of childish. please just go talk, i’m getting a migraine.” 

“as long as he’s willing to be honest, sure. but if he’s just going to waste my time, then i have nothing to say,” you shrug, uncaring.  

“in some way you still want him around, because if that wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t be here,” ymir counters, not fond of your sudden attitude. 

“i can speak for myself,” eren interrupts, tired of being the pass around subject. “i don’t have a problem talking. . . if she’s not g’na punch me.” 

“nigg—” 

“alright!” armin raises to his feet, tall body towering yours before he’s lifting you off your feet and tossing you over his shoulder quicker than everyone could blink. a gasp falls from you, wriggling your feet as you yell at him to put you down, groaning like a child. 

armin finds the nearest closet and sets you down in it, giving a look not to try it. it’s rare to see armin irritated, so he must’ve really been fed up when you see his eyes go dead as he glares at you while raising his palm telling you to stop. you pout, crossing your arms and huffing as you take a seat on a pile of shoe boxes. turning his head, he sees eren sighing and standing to his feet before willingly entering the closet. 

armin steps out, giving a fatherly obedient look between the two of you before closing the door. “be nice. handle your shit. we’re going to grab food.” 

“food?” you gasp. “wha—i want some!” 

“greedy,” eren remarks under his breath. you shoot him a deadly glare. 

“fuck you say?” 

“i’m not arguing with you over food.”

“wait, are we really getting food?” ymir whispers to connie who confusingly raises his hands. 

“no, we’re going to sit here until they figure their shit out,” armin whispers back, taking long strides back towards the couch where he plops down and sinks into. stuffing his hands into his gray hoodie pockets after lowering the hood over his head, closing his eyes. 

“they’re gonna fuck, watch,” ymir chuckles, getting up to search your pantry for more liquor, maybe even digging in your fridge for food, now that they mentioned it. “y'all want pasta?” 

“what kind?” connie looks up over his phone. 

“mhm,” ymir continues to scout, grimacing at your close to empty fridge. “she only has ingredients for pesto pasta. healthy bitch.” 

“pass,” connie and armin reject simultaneously.

“more for me!” 

now here the two of you stood, in utter silence. you’re avoiding his sharp gaze as much as you can, twiddling anxiously with your fingers. this is the last situation you want to be in right now. the warmth in your cheeks when you catch him staring is the bitch of all trades. that love you held deeply in your chest for years magnetically pulling you to submission. to care. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly in your ears. taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. this was important. the two of you needed to get past this if there’s going to be any change to your relationship. this had to be fixed. 

“it seems like you want me to start,” reeling you in, his heavy feet hit the ground the closer he gets to you, nearly standing over you in all of his handsome glory. the air shifts and it feels hotter. you can practically hear the swallow in your throat. why did he feel the need to be so close? who knows. maybe it’s some sort of intimidation tactic. “where should i start?” 

“hm, i’d say — apologize for being misleading,” your response is nothing but blunt, your emotions getting the best of your original intent. 

eren’s mouth goes agape, chuckling with genuine confusion, brows furrowed in concern. “again, how was i misleading? we've never been anything but friends. i never led you on or made you feel like there was something more between us."

“eren, you literally told me that you wanted to try something new and be apart of me on a deeper level than you were. this was after we had sex, twice need i remind you. then, i find you fucking another girl the day you initiated us to hang out. then you had the nerve to argue with me, and call me fucking crazy.” 

“i didn’t call you crazy. i said you needed to go home and sleep off whatever shit you were on that night because you cussed that girl out and almost beat her face in for what? we are not together, ꒰♡꒱.” 

“i know that,” the muscles in your jaw spasm from the pressure you put into gritting your teeth. the pain of his denial cutting deep. “you say it as if it’d be such a nuisance. that ‘you’re my best friend’ shit went out the window years ago, and you and me both know it. it’s not my fault you have a hard time with commitment.” 

“i don’t have a hard time with commitment,” he scoffs, patience fraying. “i told you that i care for you, and you mean a lot to me. that i have love for you, not that i was in love with you. i value our friendship above anything.” 

the more he speaks, the more you come to the realization that this is becoming a waste of time, as you expected. there’s a burn in your throat that’s coaxing the tears to well in your eyes. you’re not going to cry, he doesn’t deserve to see you that way. and it felt pathetic to even do so. he’s throwing the truth directly in your face, but somehow . . you find it hard to believe him. there’s just that small hope that deep down inside he felt the same. 

“i don’t understand what you’re afraid of. are you not attracted to me? am i not enough for you? is there another girl on your mind?” and that’s when the desperation pours. that level of dissecting yourself to grasp the context of why he doesn’t want you. your leg bounces out of anxiety, scratching at your thigh with the point of your acrylic. trying your hardest to keep yourself from having a mental breakdown. 

eren’s eyes soften at your reaction, his mouth going dry at the clear effect this had on you. months, years worth of emotions built up for him. it makes a heavy pang in his heart, wondering how he could be so blind and stupid. his intentions were never meant to hurt you. 

“why would you think that?" eren asks, tilting his head slightly. "i never gave you any indication that you weren't good enough for me. why can’t i just not be ready?”

the words roll off his tongue easily, like they were rehearsed. “if you weren’t ready, eren, you could’ve just been upfront with me to avoid this shit from the jump. i would’ve went about my life if you laid it down on the table in bold fucking letters. but every time we were together, you made me feel like — we had a chance. the hugs, the kisses, the ‘i love you’s, the sex. you treated me like i was your girl. and i could say i’m running with the subject. but, i wouldn’t do that if i didn’t have something being fed to me. i’m not an idiot.” 

“i just —” he goes to knock his head back, blowing out a huff of air as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “i don’t want to hurt you, ꒰♡꒱. i don’t know if i can be the person you need right now. i can’t give you what you want. it’s complicated, and it’s not fair to you. i like you, a lot. i can’t explain my exact feelings, but i’ve always been attracted to you. i thought once that maybe it could work out between us, but the more time goes on, the more i realize how fucked up i am. you deserve better. and it kills me to say even that.” 

this was triggering for some reason, feeling claustrophobic from the close proximity of his body between the small space of your closet. it’s all making you sick. you felt like you were going to have a panic attack if you stayed in here with him any longer. standing up, you brush past him to rush towards the door, twisting the knob frantically only to find it locked. fuck. groaning, you bang on the door, anticipated to kick it down if no one let you out in the next five seconds. 

“꒰♡꒱, stop and take a breath,” eren’s well aware of how you get when you’re stressed out, actions turning frantic as you rest your forehead against the cold door. “baby, look at me.” 

"oh, nah. we a little late for that,” you respond after you turn to face him, shaking your head. “see, you say shit like that because you know how i feel about you. you’re real good at manipulating me. real good. you make me feel like i'm drowning by the weight of my emotions. i hate this, hate this. you make me too vulnerable. and you call me baby? h-how else am i supposed to think?” 

“i’m sorry,” his hands go to grab your arms. your body stiffens under his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. you can't help but notice the sincerity in his eyes, the conviction in his tone. part of you wants to believe him, to accept that this is truly all there ever was between you. but the other part, the part that's been carrying a torch for him for years, refuses to let go so easily.

“please believe me when i say that. i never, ever meant to hurt you. and i truly do apologize for not being honest from the beginning. and i will continue to apologize because i genuinely feel bad.” 

his voice is softer now, less defensive, more genuine. it's clear that despite his initial reluctance, he does cherish your friendship, and he values your presence in his life. but, you’re still conflicted. 

"i — i don't know, eren. i don’t think i can accept that,” you whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the weight of his rejection settles heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

eren hesitates briefly before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. the warmth of his body seeps into yours, providing a comforting counterpoint to the cold reality of the current situation. it stuns you, your body slowly relaxing into his hold, letting the familiar comfort wash over you. he’s laying your head endearingly on his chest, brushing his hand along the back of your head. suddenly, eren slowly pulls from you, his intense stare into your eyes blurring your thoughts, glitching when he tucks a curl behind your ear before inching his face toward yours and shockingly kissing you.

your eyes widen in surprise as his lips press against yours, the suddenness of the gesture leaving you momentarily stunned. but as the sensation registers, your body responds instinctively, melting into the kiss. your hands come up to rest on his chest, fingers digging lightly into his shirt as you return the kiss with equal fervor. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. it's as if the last two months of hurt and confusion have never happened, and you're transported back to a time when the possibility of something more between you seemed within reach.

eren breaks the kiss abruptly, pulling back with a flush on his cheeks. you look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort or regret. but instead, you see something else entirely — desire, longing, and a hint of uncertainty. he swallows hard, opening his mouth to say something, but no words come out. instead, he closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head slightly. "fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t know why i did that,” he mutters, turning away from you.

the air grows even heavier, and you can’t help but to pull him back into your grasp, his heavy hands sitting on your hips he grips roughly to pull you closer. his mouth is back on yours within seconds, widening his jaw to deepen the kiss, your lips smacking and your back suddenly pressing against the wall. as the kiss intensifies, you moan softly, feeling a wave of heat wash over you. your hands slide from his face to his shoulders, holding him tightly. 

your hips grind against his, seeking friction, craving the closeness that only he can provide. every inch of your being screams for more, for a deeper connection, for a fulfillment that only he can offer. eren groans into your mouth, his own hands roaming over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a hunger that belies his previous reticence. he presses himself harder against you, his erection throbbing with need. his movements become more deliberate, more urgent, as if he's trying to bridge the gap between you two with every fiber of his being.

“your legs are shaking,” he whispers, now resting a hand on your inner thigh. 

you nod shyly, his big hand making you pulsate. you spread your legs wider. “touch me. please."

his tongue swirls around the side of your neck as his breath tickles your skin, making you shiver slightly as he continues the kisses down to your collarbone. then, his hand moves up your thigh more, now moving it’s way under your short black skirt to pull your thong to the side, eyes rolling back into your skull when his fingers make contact with your soaked clit. a simple touch from him easily arousing you. 

"talk to me. i need to hear your voice."

eren removes your shirt, needing so badly to feel your skin beneath his burning fingertips. whispering into your ear as he talks you through it, placing his fingers back onto your clit. “you're enjoying this, aren't you?" 

“you make me so wet,” you whimper, raising your right thigh to give him further access. 

“i bet i do,” your body prickles with fire the moment he takes your neck into his hold to choke you, his brows furrowed as the two of you listen to your sluice clit he rubs circles onto. licking his lips, he spreads your lips apart before sinking his fingers in knuckle deep, the illicit squelch making his dick shift. both of you make the same expression of pleasure, eren moaning from the strong grip your pussy has on his fingers, missing that. 

despite the overwhelming pleasure, you manage to stifle your cries, biting your lip to keep silent as eren’s fingers curl inside you, stroking that sweet spot that makes your vision blur and your legs tremble. he removes them momentarily, collecting your juices to rub your hardened clit again. you pull him in to moan into his neck, tugging onto his long hair, eren responding to your silent plea by plunging his long fingers into your dripping cunt.

“mmm, fuck,” your face curls up from the heat swimming in your lower tummy. feeling the way you moan into his neck sends shock waves through his body. the grasp on his hair only makes him apply more pressure to your spot, pushing you further and further.

“look at you taking that shit. you love my fingers?”

you nod drunkenly. "yea, love your fingers." 

"you love my fingers, baby?" he hums in your ear condescendingly. 

"i love them so much, baby," you whine, unable to control your breath. 

“fuck,” eren couldn’t take it anymore, crouching before you to hungrily latch his lips onto your clit. a high-pitched moan flows past your mouth unexpectedly, eren lifting your leg to set it on his shoulder, sucking you into his mouth, and swallowing every drip that leaks from you. 

“cover your mouth, pretty. you sound too good. ima bust.” eren’s mouth never leaves your pussy as he speaks, his words muffled by your wetness. 

each thrust of his fingers sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, while his tongue works on your clit, coaxing moans and whimpers from your lips. eren’s mouth works tirelessly on your pussy, his tongue lapping rapidly over your clit while his fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. he alternates between long, slow strokes and quick, frantic thrusts, determined to wring every last moan from your lips. his free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as he pulls you even closer, ensuring that not an inch of your body is left untouched by his desire.

your back arches off the wall as the first shockwave of your climax rip through you, your thighs quivering and your pussy spasming around eren’s fingers. he doesn't let up, continuing to lick and suckle your clit through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. as the sensations begin to subside only a little, you slump against the wall, panting heavily. eren reluctantly pulls away, his lips glistening with your juices. he looks up at you with a smirk, his own arousal still evident. 

"fuck, you real sweet," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust, standing back on his feet while keeping his fingers inside of you. craving more. "you're making this really difficult for me, ꒰♡꒱.” his breath grows sharper. "you're so loud when you moan for me. tryna make everybody hear you?" 

"your voice," you hiccup weakly, speaking the thought aloud, loving how he talks to you. 

"you like my voice?" he hums, planting a sloppy, haste kiss amongst your pouty lips you’d bitten red. he raises his brow, repeating himself since you’re so fucked out. “you like my voice, right?" 

"yes, daddy," you scream out. 

"daddy? that's new," the grin is all too evident. you're too deep in your pleasure to acknowledge the embarrassment. nodding along. not seeming to care that you're barely conscious. 

"erennn! m'gonna cum!" you warn, gripping onto his shifting wrist, arching your chest into his. 

“gimme that shit then, baby. cum on my fingers like you always do. so goddamn needy.” 

uncaring of the people outside of the closet, you whine his name loudly, gyrating your hips into his palm your pussy gushed on. as you struggle to maintain control, your orgasm builds rapidly, coiling tight in your belly before bursting forth in a torrent of ecstasy. gushing on his fingers. eren's eyes go wide, slapping his big hand over your mouth to somewhat muffle your sounds.  

"shhh, fuck mamas," he stares at you with desire, keeping his fingers moving. "pussy drippin’ all on me." 

you stare at him blissfully, that pretty little head of yours thinking of nothing but how good he just made you feel. how hard he made you cum. even with just his fingers, it felt like nothing you've felt before. dazed, and unable to speak, you reach to unravel the belt on his hips connected to his heaving stomach. you've got him so fucking horny he's not sure if he can stop you right now. no longer giving a fuck who hears. that's their problem. it’s their fault anyways. 

"i want it," you give him widened eyes, noticing he left his head for a moment. 

"i can't stop once i start, m'telling you that right now,” his breath hitches, following your guide of undoing his jeans. 

"i. want. it," you repeat slowly, making it clear. 

“mm, that was sexy,” he grins, pecking your lips once more. you giggle when he lifts you up, turning and pulling one of your jackets off a hanger to lay down so you won’t hurt your back, the gesture making you smile stupidly. 

"this closet is too fuckin' small, my back hurts," eren complains. 

his jeans are clad to his waist, small beauty marks littered around his stomach up to his chest area. v-line sharp and abdomen toned with fairly tanned skin. he exudes masculinity. his pubic hairs are dark, trimmed as usual, and his dick sits heavy on your mound, a pearl of precum forming at the tip just daring to be licked up. your mouth watered every time you observed him. his attractiveness something you’ll never forget. you gasped when he taps your clit with his dick, hearing the two of you connect makes the big man above you groan desperately. 

"put it in you," he spanks your inner thigh, holding them up and open for you, his entire body arched dominantly over your small frame. “don't hurt yourself." 

“ ‘kay,” you nod shyly, wrapping your palm around his dick, the skin hot and rushing with blood, sucking your pudgy stomach in and lifting your head up some more to see at a better angle. relaxing your hips, you breathe slowly, rubbing his tip up and down your entrance before carefully pulling him into yourself. 

“nng,” you whimper, face scrunched up from the pain of the stretch. he’s aware by now of how much time you need to take him fully considering his size. 

“breathe, babe. you think too much, that’s why it hurts,” he whispered, kissing your forehead to keep his composure. he’s only halfway in and he feels like he’s close to nutting. “let go, lemme work it in.” 

you listen, laying back down fully while eren takes the lead. he’s gently swaying his hips to maneuver his way in, both of you watching it go in and out with fascination. his dick is thick, and it feels like he’s splitting you open every single time. but once he’s inside, you love that feeling of being stuffed, being completely apart of him. his body is now in full contact with your legs, eren hissing, a rumble in his throat borderline feral as he fucks you hard once he’s sure you’re okay.  

because you’ve came twice, you already felt sensitive and easy to another orgasm. it didn’t mean to happen so fast, but the moment his pace picks up, his thighs clash heavily against your own as he pressed your tummy down and fucked you deep, and you cum again. squeaking and trembling beneath him, the wet patpat of his dick pounding into you making you both dizzy. eren spews expletives in repetitions silently, watching your eyes go white, pretty individuals wispy on your lash line. 

he sees how much effort you're putting in to keep your noises in. “fuck them, lemme hear you.”

now his face is in yours, his moans burning your stomach even worse. it feels like a sickness how much you get off from hearing him, or any sound of weakness he makes. 

"god . . eren!" you hiss in pleasure. 

the heat was overbearing. the small proximity of the closet mixed with your skin connecting salaciously made you equally sweaty. beads of it sticking to eren's forehead, dampening his brown hair, turning them into curly ringlets. in no time, eren pulls himself out to fist his dick, twisting his wrist as he tugs his orgasm out of himself, cumming on your warm stomach. 

“shit, baby. you feel good every fuckin’ time,” he’s leaning in to give you another kiss. he sits up on his knees, dragging your thong completely off to wipe up his mess. “i can give you better. i wasn't done." 

you laugh and place your hand on his face, pushing it away with laughter. "move, boy. i need to get out of this damn closet.” 

"fine," he rolls his eyes playfully, fixing his pants and standing to his feet. "ima head to the bathroom.”

"hey," you protest with a pout. "come get me, i'm sore. you fucked me into the floor.” 

“i put the jacket down,” eren goes to grab for your hand and you make a disgruntled cry. 

“pick me up, dummy." 

to your luck the door ends up being unlocked now, and that gives you a clear explanation that they were in fact ear hustling. when eren opens the door and you’re huddled behind him shyly, the only person asleep was armin. connie ended up powering on your playstation to play the last of us two while ymir watched in agony over the storyline. the game gets immediately paused when the two of you show your faces. eren’s is stoic as usual, while yours is filled with embarrassment as you hide behind his tall figure. 

“i knew y’all were fucking listening, perverts,” eren calls them out, a cocky smirk displayed on his features. 

“got a little loud so we needed a distraction,” ymir replied, laughing as she stared at you. “i see you had a good time.” 

“not too much,” you warn, rolling your eyes playfully. 

“we talked just like y’all wanted. so, thanks for that.” 

you pout. “aren't you glad we made up?" 

"oh, definitely, for sure," arrogance is laced in his voice, turning back to them. "y’all got to hear us become really good friends, huh?" 

there’s that word again. friends. it bothered you again. that uncomfortable feeling in your tummy daring to ruin your mood. so, you brush it off. 

"y'all not g’na fight no more? cause i'm sick of it.” 

"we found a new way to fight," you break in a joke. 

"so remember that shower we need to take?" eren reminds you. 

"shower?! aw hell, they locked in." 

"bring your ass," eren swats your behind, possessively placing his hand on your hips to tug you along. you stumble next to him with a giggle, tripping over your feet up the stairs as he laughs at you, the two of you rushing towards the bathroom. 

this is the first time the two of you ever shared a shower together, talking as normal as you watch each other bathe. eren admires your beauty, having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. a few moments of you swatting them away happening. you knew it was your house, so you could do whatever you wanted. but already having sex with him knowing your friends were mere inches away felt improper. as you lathered your body in soap, he traces your skin tenderly. you look up at him with starry eyes, emotions coming to full conclusion. you might actually love this man. he feels that spark, studying your face like a lovesick boy. 

"what?" you ask cluelessly. 

"nothing," he swallows, internally punching himself in the face. he's holding back again. unable to understand why. what's he protecting exactly? himself or you? he's unsure. 

eren slips his same attire back on while you toss on an oversized nightmare on elm street t-shirt after lathering your body in baby oil. you mentioned to eren that you were hungry, and he offered to drive you anywhere you wanted to feed you. rushing down the steps in a pair, you catch only connie up this time, ymir passed out sleep on your rug flat on her back. 

"finished showering?" connie asks, being slick as usual. 

"it was sooo fun," you exaggerate, raising your middle finger. "we're getting food. bye!" 

"bye!" eren copies with a chirp, mocking your excited wave. 

since your apartment resides near the campus, the area you lived had plenty of food joints, some that would stay open later than usual. you decided on denny’s since it was seven in the morning by this point and you didn’t want to eat too heavy knowing you were going straight to sleep once you get back. the line is long and the two of you stand fairly close together. you cling to his side, making the initiative to hold his hand. eren's unsure, again, why he's withholding how he wants to feel. he drops your hand, leaving you to feel awkward and out of place almost. you felt a pang in your chest from the action, taking a deep breath, ignoring it, and waiting to be seated. 

the service was pretty quick, ordering what you both wanted which was a stack of pancakes with bacon and home fries and receiving it within ten minutes. he does his best to try and enjoy his food, though his gaze keeps shifting over to you. your mood changed, he obviously noticed since you’ve barely spoken, hiding your face in your phone to avoid conversation. it's bothering him. he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this for the time being. so he decided to eat his food. 

"why'd you drop my hand like that?" 

he stops eating, looking at you as he sets his fork down. it takes a minute for him to figure out what you’re pressing about before he recalls. “sorry, i just didn't want people thinking the wrong thing." 

that takes you aback. what the fuck? “and what would be the wrong thing?" you raise your brow with irritation. 

"look, i just don't need people in my business." 

"why do you care what people think?" the anger is kicking in. maybe you were overreacting. granted, you two didn't establish your relationship fully. you also didn't think it was a big deal to hold his hand. it's like your confession earlier never happened. 

"i don't think it's a big deal. i would rather not have to deal with people asking uncomfortable questions. it'll lead to a lot of unnecessary drama." 

"you mean with them bitches you fucked," you retaliate. "because god forbid you have a girlfriend, right?" 

"who said you were my girlfriend?" eren asks rather coldly. and that makes you silent. he realizes then how rude that came out. that's not what he meant. "wait, i'm . .” 

"basically, to conclude, you don't want to date me. noted." 

"i never said that . . .” 

"so, what then, eren? am i not good enough for you to show off? you wanna keep me a secret? like some girl you just fuck, who, by the way, you admitted your feelings for. normal people date after shit like that gets said. i don't care what people think about me, that's your problem." 

“of course you don’t, there’s nothing to think about when you only spread your legs once a year. you aren’t fucking on people like i am,” he replies, a bit too quickly, a response that is barely thoroughly planned out. he tried to apologize, but the words ended up getting caught in his neck. “i —”

"end of conversation," you snarl. that was so low of him to say. 

“i just meant you don’t express yourself sexually like i do. not that it’s a problem, i just have a reputation. i told you i’m not in a place to be what you want right now.” 

"i’m doing my best not to punch you in your fuckin’ face right now, so i advise you to be careful what you say next. in fact, don’t say anything at all.” 

words aren’t spoken for the majority of your meal after that, unable to finish all of your food since all you wanted to do was go home and cry in your pillow. he keeps toying with your heart again and again. it’s wildly frustrating. he pays the tab and you’re on your way back home, the car ride is silent as well. before you go to exit, he stops you. 

"can i say one last thing before you leave?" 

you turn to him, dead silent. 

"i am sorry for everything i said. you're right, i shouldn't care so much about what other people think. i should've said that from the beginning, and i didn’t mean to call you out like that. that was disrespectful, i admit. i just want us to be like we used to be simply because i hate hurting you. you mean a lot to me. you’re my best friend.”

left stuck, you only say what he wants to hear. "i understand. i just need time to think." 

"i understand." he says back, shifting his eyes back towards the steering wheel. 

you don't seem as angry as before, mostly because you’ve mentally checked out, so he's not entirely sure what else to say. he just wanted to let you know he meant everything. but, it's far too late for that. he'd said enough a few moments ago. and it's exactly what you needed to hear to realize that he'd never be ready for you. he'd never be mature enough for a relationship. he'd never see you as his first choice. still keeping that childish mentality of fucking girls to get his nut and ruin their hearts. it's enough. 

eren goes inside to grab armin and ymir to take them back to the dorm since they drove here together. connie lets himself out, everyone says goodbye, and you close your door without giving eren so much as another look. 

𓇼 

three months fly by and you two never contacted one another. eren noticed you avoid him on campus whenever you spot him. weeks of eyeing his phone for your text or call. he got the message clear, but it hurt his feelings, possibly on the same level he hurt yours. he stalked your account any chance he got, never missing a story. it was the only access to keeping a piece of you with him. that only lasted a month before you soft-blocked him. making your story unavailable to his eyesight but never having the balls to unfollow . . . just in case. having that small feel of hope that he'd come around and show you that he's everything you want in a man. albeit fairly likely.

all eren can do is go about his life and hope that you’d make the decision to keep him in yours. connie noticed how down eren was today, dragging him to come watch the homecoming football game. he’s dressed depressingly in black sweats with a dark green hoodie, resting his back against the bleachers with his eyes shut, trying to block out the exaggerated screams people made for the team. it’s a big game considering it’s the last before winter break, and it’s home based. eren peaked his eye open to watch connie chow down a hotdog, obnoxiously chewing and catching his irritated glare. 

“is it good?” eren bluntly acknowledges. 

connie raises his middle finger unspoken, ignoring his moody friend and focusing on the cheerleaders twisting and flipping. “oh, there’s ꒰♡꒱.” 

eren shoots up in a flash, the hood over his head hiding most of his gorgeous face. “where?” 

eren follows connie’s guide pointing in the direction you stand. and there you were, looking pretty as ever. he swore his heart skipped a beat. gorgeous face with a light beat of makeup, illuminating a soft, dollete glam with pink blush, brown lip liner, gloss, and heavy highlight on your nose and inner corner of your eyes that glowed under the beaming lights from the football field. your hair is straightened, styled in a half up half down with the bun spiked, enhancing your facial features. incredibly cut dark-washed denim shorts hugging your thighs while a baby pink oversized jersey covers your top halve. 

eren studies you like a lover does poetry, heart awestruck by your beauty, your aura radiating halfway across the field. god, he misses you so damn much. that daydream lala land in his head comes to an immediate halt when he spots a guy laughing in your face as the two of you bump noses in a disgustingly cute eskimo kiss. the muscles in eren’s jaw shifts, his eyes lowering and darkening as his posture changes. straightening his back and spreading his legs wide before he’s moving his neck and chest forward like a venomous snake, observing your interaction intently. 

it’s honestly scary how quickly his anger consumes him, his entire body going up in flames as he stares at the two of you like a giant crow hiding in the trees. his body is solid, barely even breathing as he finds torture in you pouring gatorade into this man’s mouth, his helmet in one hand while the other brushes your hair away from your face, bright white teeth shining as he smiles at you. you use a towel to dab off any excess sweat from his brown skin. then, eren realizes something. he knows this guy. 

onyankopon. a quarterback, a valedictorian in high school, and a student in his physics class. eren grows jealous. it was clear to him that you had a thing for him, eren trying to avoid showing any hints of jealousy so connie wouldn't bring it up even if deep down inside, he felt it. eren watches you giggle in onyankopon's face. he's way too close to you. it bothers him beyond comprehension. you and onyankopon have been messing around for the exact time you broke contact with eren. fucking around every now and thence, attending classes, and enjoying your life since it didn’t end when the man you were madly in love with rejected you. you were attracted to him for sure. he made you laugh, cooked for you, taught you how to ride his motorcycle. . a bunch of lovey shit you never felt before. but, your feelings for eren ruined any chance for you to be fully devoted.

it’s hard for eren to even sit through the remainder of this game, barely paying attention to the players and eyeing you almost the entire time. cheering, jumping up and down whenever onyankopon made a move let alone breathed. you’re like a goddamn fan girl. your friends seem to encourage you, purposely pushing you into him at times when he ran back over for your opinion. it’s like he finally exhales when the games over, connie knocking him from his trance of scrutiny. 

“yo, let’s go. we gotta party to get to.” 

the sigh is loud from eren, exasperated so. “who the fuck said i was up for a party? we have finals in two days. you dragged me from studying for this shitty ass game.” 

connie raises his hands in defense. “woah, fucker. you gotta stick up your ass, pull it out.” 

“i’m going home.” 

as eren begins to rise, connie refuses to move out of his path. “this is about ꒰♡꒱, isn’t it?” 

his shoulders raise defensively. “tread lightly, con.” 

“save me the bullshit, eren. for once just act like you give a fuck about the girl and go talk to her. this has been a repetition. how are you ever going to solve issues if you’re constantly running from them?” 

“she doesn’t want to speak to me. she made that extremely clear.” 

“did she say that, or did you just make her feel it?” 

eren didn’t have time for confrontation, stretching his leg over the bench to cross over him, walking away. “whatever, man. i’ll see you.” 

connie clenched his jaw, scoffing. “see, that’s your damn problem now! you can’t admit when you fuck up. that girl loves you to death and you keep playing in her fucking face! now you’re mad ‘cause you see her with somebody else. that’s bullshit and you know it.” 

eren stops in his tracks, and pulls the hood off his head before slowly turning back in his direction. “okay, maybe you’re right. i’m a fuck up. she already made up her mind by ignoring me for three months. i’m not forcing anything.”

“how do you know she’s not waiting for you to step up and finally do the chasing?” connie arches his brow. eren rolls his lips. “you had that girl hoping and waiting for you to finally reciprocate your feelings, and you lead her on back to back. she chased after you while you thought with your dick for other women. i’m sure she’ll be at the party. go find her and talk to her. and if she’s not fuckin’ with it, then you’ll know to really leave it alone. simple as that.” 

and that’s how eren ended up at the party. it was packed, obviously. they’d won the big game and chose this celebration as an excuse to get fucked up. connie smoked with eren for a bit before he disappeared to talk to some girl he’d been trying to date. eren's drinking heavy liquor, conversing somewhat with some people he knew to clear his head a little. there’s a few women who try to shoot their shot towards him, but he politely declines. the ‘my girl is here’ line seems to work. speaking of, he can't help but be distracted by you. seeing you dance with your friends, act a fool, and flirt with onyankopon whilst sitting on his lap. it enrages him in a way he can't explain. 

not to mention you're wearing his varsity jacket, snuggled into it. this is the last thing eren wanted to find. he wasn't planning on his blood boiling as he stood at the doorway, knocking back the remainder of his hennessy and approaching you the minute he watched onyankopon stick his tongue in your mouth, the two of you lost in each other as you kissed. he doesn’t comprehend his own body movements when he brushes through a sea of people to come your way. 

"what the fuck are you doing, ꒰♡꒱?" eren interrupts, glaring at you furiously. he had a right to be mad, right? weren't you the one who ignored him? blocked him? avoided him? 

you're stunned to see him, let alone hear what came out of his mouth. "excuse me?" you retort, shellshocked by his behavior.

"some nerve you have to act like i don't fuckin’ exist for three months, then i catch you sitting on somebody's lap like it's nothing," he's being outright rude and blunt, unsure if he's aware of it. could've been the alcohol, or what he's been feeling for months piling up into one bubble. and he finally let it burst.

onyankopon grows irritated by this. not only did he interrupt the two of you, but he was talking out his mouth crazy. "i know you ain't talking to her like that." 

"i don't remember stuttering. i'm looking dead at her, aren't i?" eren's stern with his remark.

his statement is senile, your head immediately pounding with a migraine from his stupid ass attack. that's when you get mad. "what? last time we spoke, you told me you didn't want to be with me and only saw me as someone you wanted to fuck on the low. so what the fuck makes you think it's okay to yell in my face about some shit you ended?!" 

"oh, he's lost his fuckin mind," onyankopon chuckles sinisterly, not even giving him a chance to reply. shaking his head in a 'this nigga got me fucked up' kinda way. your heart speeds up in panic as onyankopon's hands hold onto either side of your waist before he gently lifts you to stand along with you. "eren, right?" 

eren can feel his cheeks burn, the anger intensifying now that he's face to face with onyankopon. your heart is ready to drop out of your chest at the thought of them fighting right now. please, no. "i'm sure you knew that, don't ask stupid questions." 

anyone can see the heat building up in onyankopon's eyes, the people in the area whispering to one another while watching. your anxiety is skyrocketing. two big men fighting over you would be hot inside of a novel, yes. but you hated the idea of violence. especially from men. it triggered your flight mode and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball and cover your ears like a scared child. "guys, wait —"

"nah, baby. let him finish," his hand goes up insinuating a pause. "nigga got so much shit to say to you on some pussy shit. be a man and talk to me.”

before you get the chance to say anything, eren’s fist goes flying into onyankopon’s nose, his head aggressively knocking to the side, looking as if it spun off his neck for a moment. "how's that for some pussy shit?" 

gasps fill along the room, your hand going to your mouth as you watch onyankopon swing back, connecting his hit back. two of his teammates go to hold him back, knowing this isn’t some shit he needed to get into right now. you take the initiative to grab eren’s attention, knowing it’s dumb to jump between men in rage, but you felt like only you could stop him right now. his face is as red as a tomato, grabbing and tugging at his shirt with all of your strength he’s surprised you can even move him. almost stumbling over from your aggression. onyankopon’s friends drag him away from the situation before it got worse. in the process, he noticed you didn’t look his way not once, not even to check if he was alright. 

"eren, chill!" you finally snap. "let's go out back and talk. you're fucking embarrassing me." 

everyone watches as you drag him by his shirt like a bad ass child, shoving open the door that lead to the back area of the fraternity house, a few people there but you find a spot under a tree further down the hill. finally letting go, you take a few steps away from him, ready to blow from the anger streaming in your veins. thankfully, the smell from the lake and the wind blowing soothed you in some way. your arms are crossed over your chest, listening to the muffled noise of music booming inside the house and shutting your eyes. 

“eren, what are you doing here?” 

“connie dragged me here. believe me, i would’ve never come. especially after seeing you two boo’d up at the game. he your man now?” 

a sarcastic snort comes from you, twisting your body and looking his way. it’s been months since you’ve made contact with this man, and his aura still pulls you in. you truly despised it. “you need to apologize to him for starting an unnecessary fight. you don’t even know him to be acting like that.” 

adding salt to the already open wound, eren responds with a petty shrug and a scoff. “he had that shit coming.” 

“wow,” the smile lines around your mouth deepen and your lower lip pokes out as you frown, making an expression of disbelief. "you have a lot of nerve acting like you're my boyfriend when you settled for friendship only. do you not recall? or do i need to refresh your dry ass memory?” 

he's bitter about the situation still, that’s clear as day. he also assumed you were okay after the conversation you had in the car that night. but, he was wrong. he remains silent, fearing that his jumbled thoughts would fuck up what he really wanted to say. 

"if you couldn't see that i was hurt about what you told me that night, then you truly don't care. i kept my distance because you knew how i felt about you and you chose to be oblivious. i met ony and he made me forget about you. then you break back into my life whenever it's convenient for you. i'm not going to be available for you on your terms." 

"so you're using him to get over me?" 

"as i'm allowed to because you're not my man!" you narrow your brows. "aren’t you the same one that said i only spread my legs once a year? you’re mad ‘cause it’s not for you anymore, right?”

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.” 

“me and ony are just friends. whatever we got going on is none of your concern." 

"it's my concern if we gonna be together. therefore, he gotta go." 

"oh, now you wanna be with me," you scoff. "you're three months — no . . six months late. if you don't recall, you tried this shit before our friends forced us to make up. again, due to your ignorance of my emotions. i shouldn't have to wait for you to decide whether or not i'm worth being in your future. i am not a fantasy! i'm not here for you to fuck when you need to feel something! i deserve someone who's going to love me and give me the romance i crave! you don’t care enough about me no matter what you say.” 

tears are welling in your eyes now, and that breaks eren's heart beyond measure. "꒰♡꒱ . . ." 

"fuck, i didn't want you to see me cry," you sniffle, wiping your eyes aggressively. 

he let the alcohol completely steer him away from his initial goal, and that was to speak to you like connie had got on his ass about. not make you upset. he doesn’t understand why he keeps breaking his promise to stop hurting you. 

“i'm horrible when it comes to making any commitments. that, you were right about before,” he states, your eyes drawing back to his. "it wasn't fair of me to invalidate your feelings all those times. i knew you wanted to be with me, i just couldn't bring myself to be honest about what i wanted. more so, i didn't know what i wanted at the time. but being disconnected from you, my best friend . . it hurt my fucking soul."

the oversized varsity jacket clinging to your body brings you comfort, wrapping it tighter around yourself out of anxiousness. the scent of onyankopon’s cologne on the fabric brings you even more sadness. you feel bad for what happened, needing to find him to apologize when you get the chance. 

"i have so, so many regrets when it comes to you. so much time wasted, things that could've been avoided had i been mature and upfront. expecting you to be available to me because of our relationship was wrong of me. using you was wrong of me. leading you on, pushing you away, fucking with other girls when you were right here . . it was selfish of me, and i'm a dick for it all, i admit that. and i want nothing more than to apologize and make up for all i've done. you didn't fucking deserve that." 

suddenly, he's holding your face in his hands as you weep, both of you unsure of when you broke the distance between you two. "please, please don't cry baby. i'm so sorry." 

words could only mean so much. you weren't sold yet. if he wants you for real, he's going to have to make a better offer than just words. false promises were a learned matter with him. he needed to prove how much you mean to him. 

"i'll do everything in my power to make sure that i am the man you deserve," he whispers, his hold on your face beginning to tighten as you pull him closer by his shirt out of habit. "promise i'll treat you right. i'll never make you feel like you're someone to fix me when i'm going through shit or i'm horny. i'll never make you feel like you have to compete with other women again. i'll never take you for granted again." 

his face is now inches away from yours. his voice, his scent, the warmth he brings, it makes you feel so vulnerable. . . so safe. like that invisible string never broke. eren screaming with hope within, praying you reply. it feels so good to feel your body pressed against his, the scent of your conditioner wafting into his nostrils. he hugs you tightly, afraid that he'll lose you. he's been craving this for so long. 

"i missed this. i missed you," he murmurs between your neck, his grasp becoming a little tighter. you feel his chest slowly rising and falling as a soft sigh escapes his lungs. as the silence continues to grow between the two of you, it's becoming harder for you to find the words you want to say to him. 

"say what you want to say," it's like he read your mind, swallowing deeply before pulling your face back to eye level. he looks down at you. 

"i can’t accept your apology." 

eren slowly pulls away from you, a frown on his face and heartache yanking at his chest. it’s his karma, he knew that well. there was no reason to push you into something you no longer wished for. you’d made up your mind, and he just had to live with that. in the future, possibly learning from his mistake. he swallows, nodding as he backs away, accepting your answer indefinitely. 

“if that’s how you truly feel, then i will respect your boundaries. i’m truly sorry, again. i hate to leave things behind on a bad note, so i wanna tell you that i pray you find the love you deserve, and that i wish you nothing but the best.” 

a final touch of his lips lands on your cheek. eren’s giving you one last smile before turning to walk away. a broken weep cracks from you, lower lip trembling as you hug yourself tightly like he had only seconds ago. he’s halfway gone before you watch him pause, eyes unable to bring them from his figure. you felt like you’d lose the memory of him if you didn’t look. this felt like a horrible breakup neither one of you wanted to end. 

eren’s caught reaching into his jean pocket, pulling out his wallet before he approached you once more, the sadness on your face making this worse for him. “i almost forgot.” 

out of nowhere, eren grabs your hand, opening your palm and placing a cold object into it. you stare confusingly, leveling your palm towards your face to see a sterling silver necklace. it’s a simple piece of jewelry with a single initial. the letter ‘e’. 

"i’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. i carried it with me every day,” he smiles warmly. 

a mix of surprise and shock washes over you, your brown eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights, or a girlfriend being proposed to. you stare at the necklace in your palm, feeling the featherweight of it, the cool metal against your skin. memories flood your mind — all those times you shared laughing together, graduating high school, sneaking out to see each other, sharing secrets, dreams, and hopes. this symbol represents all of that, and yet, it also reminds you of the pain, the betrayal, the shattered trust. your gaze flickers up to meet eren's, seeing the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw emotion. part of you still loves him, still wants to believe in him, in your relationship. but the other part is screaming at you to protect yourself, to move on, to forget. 

"e as in eren," you gasp, lip still trembling. 

"well, yea," he laughs softly. it’s a tangible connection to you, even if things have changed. eren watches your reaction closely, hoping against hope that seeing the necklace might change your mind about him. he swallows hard, his throat tight with emotion. "i was planning on giving it to you when the time was right, even though i wasn’t exactly sure when that would be. i know it's not much, but . . i thought maybe you could keep it as a reminder of our friendship. of everything we shared."

he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. "please, ꒰♡꒱,” he whispers, his voice cracking. "don’t throw it away. keep it close to your heart, and remember that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens between us."

you notice how close he is to you, and you feel a small amount of nervousness start to set in again. but, you don’t let it show in your expressions, focusing instead on trying to hold yourself together. this was a lot. you’ll always cherish the memories you have together, but, was this really goodbye? did you want him to completely disappear from your life? he’s someone who’s been apart of it for so long. you couldn’t imagine life without him. three months was hard enough, even the two before that. you didn’t want him to be a stranger. you didn’t want him to never speak to you again. you didn’t want to sever your relationship entirely — your connection. 

“i love you, ꒰♡꒱. i really mean that.” 

before he gets the chance to touch you one last time, you're leaning in first, lifting yourself by your tiptoes to press your lips into his. his nose smushed against yours, inhaling sharply as he grabbed your throat, kissing you deeper. as always, you melt into his touch like putty, your entire body bursting with fire when his fingertips brush against your hips under your jersey, pulling you into him harder than he intended. scared to let you go. eren grunts into your mouth when you moan into him, gliding his tongue across yours salaciously, his back arched to bend to your level. another hand huge on the side of your face while he kisses you passionately, turning his head slightly to the side while maintaining his clutch around your throat. 

eren gasps into the kiss, the sudden surge of warmth flooding his senses. his mind goes blank as he loses himself in the sensation of your lips against his, your taste filling his mouth. the hand on your hip tightens instinctively, drawing you closer until there's no space left between you. the unexpected kiss throws him off balance, but he doesn't care. all he knows is that he's lost in the moment, the tension between you both finally breaking. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours.

“fuck, i love you,” he repeats again, now applying pressure to your ass he squeezes and lifts, his bulge hitting your stomach. it makes your gut flip when he bites your lip, your hands unknowingly trailing up his abdomen, the bumpy path of his abs giving you flashbacks. 

now, he’s kissing along your jawline, down your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your collarbone. his hands are everywhere, roving over your body, caressing and gripping like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against him. his lips move up to your ear where his breath tickles you, your inner thighs locking tight. he murmurs softly into your ear, “i want you . . need you so badly. can i?” 

he sounds slightly breathless, his need for you obvious in his low tone. “can i touch you . . please?” 

“where’s your car?” 

there’s a pause as he registers your question, his mind slightly clouded from the feeling of you against him. “down the street, why?” 

“take me.” 

“you sure?” he asks. even though the desire for you is written all over his face, there’s a hint of hesitation and question in his tone. he needs to be sure this is something you truly want, even if your body speaks before you do. 

“yeah, i’m sure.” 

he takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and leads you down the hill to where his car is parked. you’re not sure what time it is, but the streets are nearly empty, only a few people roaming around drinking and smoking, the party is still very much still happening. tucking your hand into your pocket, you drop the necklace safely there, feeling protected and giddy as you trail behind him. his frame is so much bigger than yours, staring at the back of his head where he had his hair half tied up, wanting to bury your face into his back to smell him. you spot his black r34 gtr and within seconds you’re standing in front of it, almost as if you teleported. he must’ve been walking really fast. 

he releases your hand to dig for his keys, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side to adjust the seat fully up and make enough room for you both. you’re more at ease knowing his windows were tinted, illegally the blackest of black. with each inhale, he can feel the intensity of the situation starting to build up once again, raising his body only to have you push into him, his body leaning against his car as you squish your lips back into his, growing impatient. 

"wait. ." he paused in between kisses, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable as he hissed into your mouth. "backseat, now." 

his eyes are trained on your ass as he watches you duck low and climb in the back, practically shoving you inside as he looks over his shoulder before following behind not a moment later. the space is snug, his broad body compared to your own not making the best room, but he’ll make it work. eren pushes you down onto the backseat, covering your body with his own as he resumes kissing you, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your tits. the way the two of you kiss is feverish, open-mouthed with heavy pants of desperation. the way you equally missed each other spoke loudly through it. 

“take this shit off, it smells like him,” eren possessively begins to tug at the varsity jacket clinging to you. forgetting you still had it on. 

“sorry.” 

he tosses it to the front once it’s off, clutching your throat and tugging at your denim shorts with his unoccupied hand. you understand silently, unzipping them and lifting yourself in an awkward way to remove them along with your pale pink new balances. eren has one knee digging into the seat while he balances himself above you by holding the driver's seat headrest, the other foot flat on the floor as he watches you like you’re prey. 

“you’re so damn pretty, baby. miss you,” his hands go to smooth over your inner thighs up to your knees, your shirt rising to your midsection. 

"mhm, show me how much you missed me," you spread your thighs, pink lace thong swallowing your curves, giving him the obvious hint while balancing yourself on your elbows. 

eren’s mouth waters at the sight, your pussy already leaking for him, the material swallowing you up real good. he mutters ‘fuck’ under his breath, wetting his lips and pushing your knees to your chest, cuffing a finger into the band to pull to the side, groaning at the sight of your bare skin, glistening in your slick with your clit hiding between your lips. he knows he just needs to spread them to see her fully, his favorite part. the soft texture of his tongue carefully begins to graze against your skin, sucking and taking in the smell of your body. a surprised squeak escapes your throat as you feel his finger press against your tight entrance.

"no fingers," his dick jumps from the command, moaning as he spanks the outside of your thigh gently while running his tongue over his bottom lip. "just your tongue." 

“y’not gonna let me feel her?” eren coed teasingly, whimpering when he smacks you again while leaving a sloppy kiss onto the mound of your pussy. “stretch her out f’this dick?”

you crack a grin, back resting on the door while you scoot your ass further down to grind onto his face. “not yet.” 

the sudden sensation of your hands in his hair only fuels eren’s arousal further once you draw him closer, growing needy. his thick tongue slithers out his mouth, pooling with salvia as it laps at your clit with renewed vigor, the taste you leave on his tongue sweet and tangy — intoxicating, driving him wild with lust. it’s so damn good he can’t help but spank the outside of your thigh near your ass, the vibration going straight to your clit and it’s almost like he can feel it when it hits you. moaning into your pussy he gives sloppy kisses while your thighs shake. 

“mmm, yesss," you moan in approval, needing him to do it again. until you're bruised. 

his face heats up from the noises you make, a reddish tint on his cheekbones as he shifts his jaw to suck your clit into his mouth, slick dousing his chin as he pulls your puffy clit between his lips to tug and release. 

"keep going," you arch into him. eren smacks you again, a little harder, and a broken, high pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name. 

with a final swipe of his tongue, he feels your body shudder and convulse around him. your cries fill the air as you cum hard, coating his face with your essence. he laps it up greedily, humming and savoring every drop. you didn’t expect to cum that quickly, face heating up from shyness as you cover your face and whine. eren chuckles into your pussy, spluttering as he detaches his lips and buries his face within the curve of your hip bone, unable to stop himself from laughing. it’s silly because this is the second time this has happened. the first being when he ate you out on the hood of his car after getting tipsy during game night. feeling like the alcohol influenced it, but he knows you didn’t drink tonight since he kept an eye on you. 

“shut uppp!”

“that literally took a minute!” he’s clutching his stomach now. 

“you know i’m sensitive,” you pout, popping him on the arm. “make me cum again. unless you can’t.” 

“mhm,” eren nods his head cockily, shocking you when he spanks your clit, scarily switching from playful to dominant. “don’t say that shit when you know it’s wrong.”

eren takes a seat on the opposite side, pulling you to sit on your knees, leaning over him as his eyes lock onto yours filled with a primal hunger. your palming at his thighs still covered in dark jeans, using it to balance your weight as eren stretches his left arm behind you to rub your clit with his fingers, collecting your arousal before sinking his pointer and middle into you. he quickened his pace, pumping his hand faster as he fingers your soppy cunt.

the combination of his hand movements and the sensation of your warm breath on his face sends him spiraling. "fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with effort. “can’t wait to have this pussy on me.” 

“eren, touch yourself,” you whine, petting at the shape in his jeans, undoing his button and dragging down his zipper. 

eren keens almost submissively, lifting his hips so you can push his jeans down to his knees, eren releasing his hard dick that throbs excessively in his hold. it’s big and pretty, just like you remembered. a dick you’ll never forget for sure. the curve of it makes it touch his stomach, eren rushing his thumb over the tip, wincing from sensitivity and stroking it vertically away from him. 

"let me spit on it," you chew at your lips, rocking your ass back into his hand, every touch making you feral, inner thighs soaked. 

eren nods with lidded eyes, his breath hitching as he waits for your saliva to coat his slickened fingers. the thought of your spit adding another layer of lubrication to his dick makes him even hotter. gathering your salvia on your tongue, you purse your lips together before spitting onto his dick, a cute ‘puh’ emitting as the two of you watch it trail onto his ring covered fingers, eren groaning and twisting his wrist to spread it along his length. 

“just like that," he encourages, his voice barely above a whisper. "stroke your hand over it, baby. c’mon.” 

you moan, wrapping your hand over it, piled on top of his own. you suck your lips inwardly, face curled up same as his as the two of you beat his dick, the squelching from both your hands and his fingers in your pussy making you equally dizzy. he hisses while keeping his eyes on your face, just looking at you enough to bring him over the edge.

"more?” you ask, the trail of spit already falling from your mouth before he can respond, eren momentarily removing his hand, dick jumping from the reaction as you fist his dick before he does. his overlapping yours this time. 

eren’s response is a strangled cry as he feels the pressure building to a crescendo. your skilled hand working in tandem with his own is too much for him to resist. "yes, fuck yeah," he grits out, his body tensing as he prepares to explode. 

"tell me you love me,” you kiss him softly, your tongue exploring his mouth, tasting him. 

"f-fuckin' love you, mamas," obediently, eren guides your stroking hand over his near-spent cock, growing sensitive from the erotic intensity. each gentle, wet stroke sends aftershocks rippling through his core, leaving him shuddering and panting.

"one more time, baby.”

"love you, nngh, love you.”

"i love you too." 

laying your head on his thigh, he continues to fuck you with his fingers, the squelch of your pussy bouncing off the car windows, continuing their relentless assault. the lewd sounds of your arousal draw him closer to his climax. he can feel your body responding to his touch, your juices coating his digits as he plunges them deeper inside you. with a final, needy thrust of his hips, he unleashes a torrent of cum, coating your joined hands in his hot release.

"that’s it," he whispers huskily, his voice raw with satisfaction. you bring his dick to your face, sticking your tongue out and enclosing your lips around him as you jerk him into your mouth. sucking him off. "ooh, fuck, like that. keep touching me." 

“eren . .  baby, your fingers are s’long,” a shudder forms, squealing and rocking your ass back harder to meet the quickened pace of him fucking you open. he’s pushing you to the brink.

"think you can cream on ‘em?” he teases, his voice husky with desire. he’s using both hands now, the other hitting your ass hard in repetitions, refusing to stop, the action echoing in the small space. "can you? i wanna see you do it. gimme sum to lick up.” 

"f-fuck, y-yess. i can give it to you,” you arch your back. “oh my god.” 

encouraged by your eager response, eren doubles his efforts, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot that makes your muscles clench and a pornographic shout break loose, eren drawing out a ‘yeaaa, baby’, fucking you faster, unoccupied fingers sprawled along your plump ass. his voice fucking with you all over again. 

“mmm. just cum on ‘em. wanna feel it again,” eren’s grip on your hip tightens as he feels your body tense, grinding his palm against your puffy clit.

your sobs are rewarding, your ass burning from his impacts and you give him what he wants like he asked. creaming over his fingers as you cum for the second time, your tummy caving in as you drool on his leg and prolong a whine. body shaking violently with your legs.  

"goddamn. good girl. good girl. you’re so fucking tight," he groans, tasting you off his fingers before going under your stomach to thumb circles on your swollen clit in rhythm with more thrusts. the friction against your clit causes you to scream again, lifting your upper body to distract him by kissing his neck, his ultimate weakness.  

“ooh, you bad girl,” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps. your tongue slicks across his throat before leaving hot kisses, climbing onto his lap by balancing your body on your toes, clutching his shoulders for support as you squat above him. 

eren knows your intention and follows suit, sliding his back down the seat and spreading his legs further apart. reaching behind himself, he leans slightly forward to pull off his hoodie from his backside, his hair getting fuzzy in the process until you smooth it back in place. eren’s hands slide underneath your hot thighs, hooks his arms under your knees, and spread your legs wider apart to accommodate the thickness of his dick as he finally pushes into you.  

“oooh, fuck,” the two of you moan in unison, jaws agape with heavy pants. 

the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the car, a symphony of raw, animalistic passion. and just like that, he surrenders to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. he loses himself in the moment, pace frenzied, focusing solely on how good it feels to be buried deep inside you after so long, trying to milk him for everything he's got. you arch into him, that warm feeling coursing through your heart that you haven’t felt since that night in the closet. that feel of worship. eren spanks you again, a little harder and a broken, high-pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name. 

he steadily lifts you up and down onto his dick as you switch your hips to ride him. the view from below is turning him on — tits bouncing with each movement, your face contorted in pleasure. he raises his hips to meet your downward motion with equal force, driving himself to the depth with each bounce. skin slapping mingling with your moans, pushing you down with the fingers sprawled across your backside, pussy swallowing all of him. 

“you’re doing so well, baby," he praises, his voice a soothing murmur. "just breathe through it." as he inches farther, he captures your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the embrace.

"bite me, please,” you whimper desperately, knocking your head back to expose your neck. "need it."

eren’s eyes gleam with wicked intent, not hesitating to bite into you, knowing how much you have a kink for it. you shriek when his teeth sink into your soft flesh, the steady pressure of them is a mind fuck. the bite is firm yet gentle enough not to hurt you. the sharp pain quickly being replaced by an intoxicating rush of pleasure, sending jolts of arousal coursing through your veins. his tongue laves at the spot after letting go, soothing it with languid strokes while his other hand roams over your body, tracing patterns across your curves. 

"you are mine," he swats your ass, pounding faster. "you will always be mine. and you will never run from that." 

you shake your head drunkenly, pupils rolling white, lashes fluttering. "won't run, promise rennie!” 

"you belong to me,” he says once more, wanting you to repeat. eren’s words are punctuated by another slap of his hand, and by this point you’re sure you’re bruised, each strike a claim of ownership. your knees buckle beneath you, but he holds you up, his strong arms locked around you like a demon in heat. 

"i belong to you, baby.”

he increases the speed and intensity of his movements, driving you towards the precipice of ecstasy. you're dripping wet and moaning, your slick coating his cock as he pounds into you. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck while he slams you down. eren’s hands roam over your curves, spreading your cheeks apart as he pulls you down onto his dick with fervor. each thrust is deeper, harder, driven by a primal urge to claim you utterly.

“fuck, mng. g’na . . cum,” you blubber, biting your bottom lip as he pounds into you. 

“look at me, i wanna see your face when i make you cum,” he orders, his voice raw with desire. 

giving him your attention, you struggle to fully keep them open, every vigorous yank and thrust coaxing that bubbly feeling in your gut. he can feel your walls tightening around him, signaling your impending orgasm. "that’s it, baby," he coos, nibbling on your earlobe. "give it to me. gimme that shit. lemme feel it.”

he shifts his position slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot within you that makes your toes curl and your walls clench even tighter around him. the new angle allows him to hit even harder, stroking along your inner walls with each upward thrust.

"take. it. all. baby," he growls between pauses, his breath hot against your ear. when you finally topple over the edge, he swallows your cries with a searing kiss, his own body trembling with unspent need. 

"꒰♡꒱ . . fuck," eren pants, his forehead pressed against yours as he loses himself in the rhythm of your joining, stilling his trembling hips and cumming inside of you, having no strength to pull out. he knows you’re on birth control so he didn’t have to worry.

"oh my fuckin' god," the delicious shiver coursing through your body felt like the ultimate high. brushing your fingers through the strands of his brown hair that had long fallen from it's hair tie. he leans into your soothing ministrations, savoring the intimate connection between you as he slowly comes back down to earth.

you sit like this for a while, eren going soft and lifting you off of him to properly sit you on his lap after dressing himself and you. your legs rest over his while he presses his forehead to yours, still trying to regain his energy.

“oh, i forgot,” you opened your eyes after intimate slow breathing, reaching to the front to search for onyankopon's jacket. you dig into the pocket to retrieve the necklace he’d given you. “put it on me?” 

“of course,” taking the necklace from your hand, he brushed your hair from your shoulders and carefully fastened it around your neck. "you look beautiful," he whispered, his voice tinged with genuine affection.

“thank you,” you smile sweetly, playing with the jewelry. “i love it.” 

“i always knew you would.” 

silence overtakes you for a moment, sitting on your thoughts unwarranted. too much happened today, and your brain was swarming with panic trying to figure out what right move to make. you were tired of overthinking. you just wanted to live in the moment. consequences will come later. what's meant to be will be.

“promise you’ll keep your word this time. no more fights, no more misunderstandings, or playing with my heart. i don’t think i can take another heartbreak. i’ll die.”

sincere contrition casts eren’s expression from your words, gnawing at him all over. eren pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. despite the weight of what's happened between you, despite the pain and hurt, there's an unspoken understanding that you're both willing to move past it.

"i swear on my life i’ll never hurt you like that again. i know i’ve got a lot to make up for, but you mean everything to me,” he murmurs, nuzzling your neck gently. "i love you too much. i’m never taking that for granted.” 

tears well up in your eyes as you stare at eren, searching for any sign of deception. but all you see is sincerity, a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. you nod slowly, trying to hold back the flood of tears.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “i forgive you.” 

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[sebsbarnes]

confessions || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.

warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood

word count: 1.1k ; fluff

tangerine masterlist

you jolted awake, "what the hell," you mumbled.

eyes half open you patted around on the bed for your phone. the blaringly bright picture of a sunset staring back at you.

4:07am.

the noise that woke you up sounded again. banging at your front door. carefully you slipped out of bed and opened the drawer to your nightstand, grabbing the gun. slowly, you walked through the house creeping towards the door. the house felt eerily quiet more so than ever. the gun was held behind your back and before you could turn the doorknob you hear a voice.

"it's me."

you opened the door, "why are- jesus christ tangerine."

he smiled weakly at you, sort of shrugging, the suit jacket draped over his arm moving with.

"hey, love," he said dejectedly.

his typically smoothed back hair showed no sign of gel as his curls were a mess. the fitted suit that adorns his body was now loose with blood splattered sporadically on the fabric. the button-down shirt rolled up on his arms exposed his battered forearms. there was dirt on parts of his face, dried blood across his cheek and forehead, and a split lip.

"come in," you whispered, grabbing his hand pulling him in.

you locked the door and turned to the kitchen with tangerine still in tow. you turned the lights on in the kitchen, grabbing him water and pain reliever.

"eat these if you need something. i'm going to grab the first aid kit, alright?" you placed a box of crackers next to him on the counter and retreated to a hallway closet. when you came back, he was munching on a few and the glass of water in his other hand.

"okay now, what's the worst?"

"some prick got me in the thigh with glass," he grimaced gesturing to the torn trousers. you leaned in gently placing your hands on his thigh around the cut.

"take your pants off."

"well, that's quite forward love now, innit?" tangerine chuckled softly.

all you could do was roll your eyes as you turned around giving him a moment to hop off the counter and remove his pants. when you turned back around you couldn't help but swallow harshly at the man's muscular thighs.

"there's still bits of glass in this babes, i'm gonna have to take it out," tangerine hummed in response, clearly tired from whatever job he just came back from.

you grabbed a pair of tweezers and removed small pieces of glass left inside the wound and all tangerine could do was hiss in response. the wound was then cleaned and after tangerine gave you the greenlight, he let you stitch him up.

"now don't go fuckin' around you hear me. that's a good stitch," you said pointing at the finished product.

"yeah whatever darlin'," tangerine retorted.

you moved up to his face to clean the dirt and blood off him. you slid between his legs to get closer, fingertips accidently brushing over his thigh as you grabbed the rag next to him on the counter. you didn't notice the goosebumps that sprang to life on his skin and raced throughout his body. your lips were slightly pursed as the rag glided across his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of an earlier job.

tangerine couldn't help but stare at you during your concentration. the way your eyes danced across his face inspecting every minute detail. your eyelashes- god since when were they that long? he couldn't help the tiny smile that etched its way onto his lips hearing the small whistle your nose made as you breathed in and out. it was something you mentioned in passing that you hated, after your nose was broken on a job. small freckles decorated the bridge of your nose, and a now almost faded scar followed the curve of your cheekbone.

"you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.

you faltered slightly. you and tangerine were friends. any compliments thrown each other's way was typically about work. you often worked with the twins on jobs so the three of you were close. the dynamics on and off the job the three of you had was truly incredible. many people wanted the trio because they knew the job would be a success, most likely bloody, but still successful.

to even try and deny the fact that tangerine is gorgeous was absolutely ridiculous. when you first saw him, you truly went breathless for a moment. there was no way this man was in the business of killing was one of your first thoughts, he had to be a model of some sort. and as if his looks weren't enough, when he wasn't being a complete dickhead, he had the most charming and witty personality. it was intimidating being around him most times, the feeling of insecurity often loomed around you when he was nearby.

you looked him in the eye before averting your attention to his split lip, "why didn't you go home?"

"found myself wandering this way," he said slipping off the counter.

"bit far from your house," you whispered in return. tangerine brushed a strand of hair out of your eye, his thumb running over your cheek.

"no distance is too far for you, darlin'."

you aren't quite sure where these confessions were coming from, but you would be a fool to say you hated it. it was obvious how you felt about tangerine. you knew it, he knew it, lemon knew it, damn near everyone knew it.

"i didn't know you could be a sap," you gave him a slight smirk.

his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "today was too risky, thought i could solo it, make some extra money. it was stupid. all i could think about was you," he confessed.

you toyed with the gold chain hanging on his exposed chest before gently tugging on it, bringing him to you. the kiss was soft but long. in the midst of the kiss tangerine had placed you on the counter, finding home between your legs and holding your waist carefully. your hands situated on the base of his skull tugging ever so slightly on his hair. tangerine's mouth parted slightly in reaction allowing you to bite gently on his lip, ignoring the fact you can taste blood. with a sigh you both finally pulled apart. his hands never left your waist.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you said.

tangerine wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, ignoring all the aches from today's job. 'i've waited months to hear these words,' he had muttered in your hair making his way through your house.

"i've waited just as long."

[ashwhowrites]

virgin!inexperienced!reader x older!eddie smut 🤭

grumpy x sunshine if that’s possible !!

eddie as the grump (he’s so cute)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️smutty

The first time

Y/N and Eddie had been together for a year, and it was the best relationship either of them had.

Eddie, of course, had more experience than she did with the dating world. He was in the dating scene longer than her and sometimes that made her nervous. It was clear Eddie was not a virgin, he had a dirty mouth and knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how to set her body on fire and make her crave him more than air itself.

But, it also scared her. Eddie was her first long-term boyfriend, and knowing he was way older than her and had all this experience that she didn't. She was terrified to disappoint him, she wanted to be better than all the girls before, but she was inexperienced.

She always wanted to wait for the right guy and Eddie was that guy. He was patient with her, she never confessed she was a virgin, just that she wanted to wait until they had been together for a little longer. And the gentlemen he was, he had no issues about that.

Tonight was their big anniversary dinner, and she wanted to surprise him with a night neither of them would forget. She bought a sexy piece of lingerie that was tucked in the back of his closet. He was a man so she knew he wouldn't go searching.

Eddie held her hand as they walked into the restaurant. She walked behind him without a thought, she followed Eddie anywhere he led. His rough hand holding hers and the way his hair rested on his shoulders. He smelled amazing and looked even better in his dark jeans and long-sleeved shirt. She almost didn't want to wait until after dinner. She wanted to drag him to the car and let him have her right then and there. But she took a deep breath and forced herself to be patient. She had a plan and she wanted to follow it.

"A thirty-minute wait? For a reservation, I planned a month ago?" Eddie's annoyed tone brought her out of her sexy daydream. "What's the point of a reservation if you are going to make my girlfriend wait anyway?"

"Eds, it's fine. We can wait." her soft voice was in his ear. He might have been older and rougher on the edges but he always listened to her.

"You're lucky she doesn't care." Eddie threatened as he turned around. There wasn't much room to sit so Eddie took a seat on the last available chair, he grabbed her hand and brought her to sit on his lap.

She tried not to clench her thighs as she sat on his muscular ones. Eddie's soft hands brushed down her dress to make sure no one could sneak a single look at her. Then he left his hands on her thighs as his chin rested on her shoulder.

"Little grump," she teased as she reached up and ruffled his curls.

"Just want the best for you," he said sweetly as he kissed her shoulder.

~

They waited a few minutes and Y/N felt eyes burning into her. She tried to look without making it obvious. She smiled to herself as she saw a little boy looking at her with awe.

"Why are you smiling?" Eddie asked into her ear

"That little boy keeps staring," she laughed

"What? The kid with four eyes?" Eddie muttered as he looked over at the little boy with glasses.

"Eddie!" she gasped, "be nice. He's adorable," she said as she swatted his hand that rested on her thighs.

"I'm never nice," Eddie said with a smirk, he landed a soft pinch to her thigh. She jumped and squirmed, causing her body to rub against his jeans. She blushed as she heard a low moan come from his throat.

"I think you're jealous," she teased, maybe getting him a tad worked up before tonight would work in her favor.

"Of a kid that can't count to ten? Yeah right," Eddie scoffed, when Y/N looked away Eddie sent a glare to the little kid. The kid shrunk in his seat and turned to his mom as his bottom lip trembled.

"Oh no! He's crying!" Y/N said

"Oh well, the table's ready," Eddie said as he began to stand up. He laced his hand with hers and walked to their table.

~

The dinner was going amazingly. The food was delicious and Eddie had her laughing all night long.

But the closer they got to the end, the more turned-on she got. She kept up with her teasing, she rubbed her foot up his leg. She batted her eyelashes and softly rubbed his hand.

Then in the car drive home, her hand rested very high on his thigh. She pecked up and down his neck.

His head was spinning as he tried to keep his cool. He wanted nothing more than to shove his pulsing cock inside of her and watch her body shake. But he knew she wasn't ready and he respected that.

"Are you trying to make me crash the car?" he chuckled as he looked over at her before his eyes went back to the road.

She just laughed and didn't say anything.

Eddie pulled into his driveway and Y/N jumped out of the car.

"Why are you in a hurry?" He asked, using his long legs to catch up to her as she waited by his front door.

"I have a surprise for you," she whispered as she laced her arms around his neck

"Oh? And what would that be?" he asked back, he stepped closer so their bodies were right against each other.

"Need you to open that door and find out," she said, she leaned in and softly kissed his lips. He hummed and gladly kissed her back. Before it got any deeper she pulled away with his bottom lip between her teeth.

"Yes, ma'am," he teased, he let go of her body as she unlocked the door. She stood behind him and tried to shake off her nerves.

Eddie opened the door and she slipped off her shoes.

"You stay right here, and I'll call you when I'm ready," she said. She gave him another quick kiss.

She raced up to his bedroom and closed the door behind her. Eddie stayed downstairs like she asked, sitting in his living room as he cracked open a beer.

Y/N went into his closet and grabbed the box. She opened the box and grabbed out the red piece of lingerie. She slipped off her dress and slipped it on. She felt the heat on her face as she saw her reflection. She had never seen her body in something so sexy, but she liked it.

She shoved her dress in the corner and took out the candles and rose petals she had. She set up the room, candles lit on his nightstand and the petals on the floor, and leading up to the bed, a few scattered on the mattress.

She gave herself a small pep talk as she rubbed her perfume on her ankles and neck.

"READY!" she screamed then quickly raced to sit on the bed. She sat on her knees as she waited.

She heard his heavy footsteps go up the stairs, the closer he got the more nervous and excited she got.

He opened the door and shock was written on his face.

"Whats...a...what is all this?" he asked, his eyes taking in the candles and rose petals. Then his eyes landed on her and they stayed there.

"Wow," he mouthed, he slowly moved forward. He felt like he lost his breath when she crawled towards him. "You look incredible." He stood at the bottom of the bed as she finished crawling.

"Thank you," she smiled, she stood on her knees so she was closer to his height. "I'm ready," she whispered as her hands moved up his chest.

She watched as his eyes went wide with excitement. "As in ready ready?" he asked.

"As in I'm ready for you to make love to me," she said, her eyes staring into his as she waited for his reaction. She was nervous and negative thoughts filled her head the longer he was silent. What if she read it all wrong? What if he actually didn't want to have sex with her? What if- but her thoughts were cut off when Eddie pushed her body against the mattress and immediately crashed his lips on hers.

She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, his tongue was warm and strong just like his hands as they skimmed up her naked thighs.

He smirked into the kiss as he grabbed the garter on her thigh and snapped it against her skin. She pulled away with a whimper as her skin burned. His body was in between her legs as he stood on his knees, she panted below him as she watched him. He looked down at her as he reached and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it somewhere in the room before he leaned back down to connect their lips.

His naked chest was against hers as she ran her hands through his long hair. She shivered as she felt his hands begin to explore her body. His hands rubbed her thighs as he pushed her legs apart, giving his body more room as he settled in between her.

He pulled away to kiss down her chin and her neck. They'd made out before but now that both knew it was leading to something more, they couldn't help but grow more excited. She could feel his hard-on poking through his jeans against her thigh and she loved having that effect on him.

She gasped as he sucked gently on her neck, she couldn't wait to see the marks in the morning and have a reminder of this night.

Her head was thrown back as his tongue licked around the mark he left, and his hands moved up to massage her breasts. She shook as his fingers rolled her nipple between them. He slipped his other hand underneath the bra to free her breast. She moaned as he leaned down and wrapped his mouth around it. She never knew she could feel even more turned on by Eddie, but she was wrong.

Her hands went down his bare back as he tugged on her nipple with his teeth. She couldn't help but arch into him, pressing her chest even further into him.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty girl," he said against her skin as he moved his lips to her other nipple. He gave it the same treatment as she squirmed and panted.

She could feel her underwear getting soaked. Her cunt pulsed and ached. She wasn't sure what to do to make it feel better. She got scared and pushed Eddie back a little.

"You okay?" He asked, his lust-filled eyes flashed with worry. His body still leaned over hers as he looked down at her.

"I have something to tell you," she said with a deep breath.

"Hey, it's okay," he said softly and grabbed her hand. "We don't have to do this."

"NO!" She practically screamed in his face. He chuckled at her but waited for her to continue. "I want this and I want you." She reassured.

"Okay, then what's wrong?" He asked, she squeezed his hand and closed her eyes. Her body flushed with embarrassment.

"I've never done anything more than making out," she confessed. "Like ever, even with myself."

Eddie tried to hide his shock so he didn't embarrass her even more.

"Hey, that's alright." He smiled, and his free hand pushed back her hair. "We'll go very slow, and if there's something you don't like, I'll stop."

"Is it going to hurt?" She asked as she looked up at him.

"At first, but I'll make sure you are prepared, baby. I'll use my fingers to stretch you out a bit, once I'm in you it will hurt while you get adjusted. But I won't move, I'll stay until you are ready for me."

And that's why she felt so safe and ready with him. He didn't judge, he explained everything and she loved that he knew how to take his time with her.

"It already hurts, down there. Is that bad?" She asked.

Eddie tried to fight back a smirk, he wanted to be helpful. "Hurts down where baby? Show me." He might have been a little teased by acting clueless. But the inexperience in her eyes turned him on. He couldn't wait to be the only person that ever touched her this way.

She took the hand that was holding his and moved it down her body.

He followed her hand with excitement as she moved his hand to rest on her cunt.

"Right here?" He asked, then he pressed two fingers against her clit. She jolted forward at the feeling. The pressure felt like heaven as the ache soothed just a smidge.

She nodded

"That's good. This means I'm doing a great job at turning you on. That's your pretty cunt telling you that it needs some help." He explained, and then he began to move the two fingers in slow circles.

She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as she gripped his arm. A wonderful feeling she had never felt before rushed over her.

He pulled his hand away and she whined.

"No, it felt good!"

Eddie chuckled down at her and pecked her lips. "I know, but I'll make it feel even better." He said against her lips.

"You okay if I take these off?" He asked, his fingers ghosted underneath her underwear band and it made her shiver.

"Please," she moaned. She lifted up her hips and let him slide the underwear down her legs. His hands softly ran down her legs as he did.

"You are absolutely soaked, baby." He said with a smirk, loving the feeling of her soaked underwear against his fingers. He tossed them to the floor and moved his body down to settle between her legs.

She bit her lip as she watched him. His knees were on the floor as he yanked her body to the edge of the bed. She shivered at how easily he moved her.

"What are you doing?" She squeaked out. She went up on her elbows as she looked down at him. Memorized by seeing his head between her legs.

"I'm going to taste you, sweetheart."

She wanted to ask what that meant but she felt her jaw snap open when his tongue licked between her folds.

"Oh God," she whined. Her hands gripped the sheets as he did it over and over. She felt her arms growing weak as she tried to hold herself up so she could see him.

He looked up at her as he wrapped his mouth around her clit. He sucked on it gently, enjoying the way her arms gave out and she landed against the mattress.

He went slow and took his time to run his tongue over every part of her cunt. He flattened his tongue and licked right up to her clit, then flicked it with his tongue. He did it a few times then wrapped his lips around the clit again, sucking loudly.

He pulled away lightly, not without kissing her clit first.

"Put your hands in my hair and move your hips against my tongue." He directed.

She blindly followed, her hands slipped in his curls and she waited. Once she felt his tongue back on her clit, she rolled her hips. The feeling elevated as she yanked on his hair. He growled against her as he felt her yank his roots, but he loved it.

She was so lost in how good it felt, no idea that her hips were moving faster than her brain. She felt something, almost like it was building. The more she moved, the better it felt.

Eddie sat back and let her ride his face, he kept his tongue moving and his hands slipped up her thighs. He wished he had a camera so he could watch this over and over.

Her moans got more choked and whiny and Eddie had a good feeling of what that meant. He went to pull away but felt her hands shove his face right back down. He wanted to warn her what was coming but she wouldn't lose her grip. She pushed his head right where she needed it as her hips moved faster than ever. Her thighs clamped around his head and he was submitted to stay in place.

"EDDIE!" she cried out as something snapped. He moved his hand up her body and softly rubbed her stomach as she continued to ride his tongue.

She wasn't sure what she felt, but it was the best thing she ever experienced. She moved her hips through it, feeling it build then slowly going back down. Towards the end, she could feel her thighs twitch. She gasped as the pleasure turned painful. He licked up her mess, slurping up her cum as he tasted it on his tongue.

Eddie tapped her thighs and she got the hint. Releasing her grip and letting her legs fall against the mattress. Once his tongue was off, she felt the pain disappear.

"Jesus Christ, babygirl." He chuckled as he wiped his soaked mouth. "Wouldn't let me come up for air." He teased but he didn't mind. He'd suffocate between her thighs for as long as she was willing.

He softly rubbed her cheek and pushed her sweaty hair back. "Did that feel good?"

She nodded, lost for words and air.

"Well, that is what an orgasm feels like. You can get pretty sensitive afterward and that's when it'll start to hurt. Just give yourself a few minutes and it'll go away and feel good again." He explained

"Can I taste you while we wait?" She asked, her innocent eyes had no idea how heavy her words felt.

"Fuck, you wanna suck me off, pretty girl?" He teased, traced her lips, and used his thumb to pull down her bottom lip.

She nodded, "Please,"

"Wanna help me get these off?" He asked, he nodded down to his pants. In a flash, she was working on his jeans and dragging them down his legs.

She leaned back and took in his body. His pasty skin and dark black tattoos. His hairy chest and his happy trail trailed down and disappeared into his boxers. She leaned down and kissed his chest, just like he did to her. Then she kissed down to his stomach and landed above his boxers. She could see the outline of his cock and it made her whimper.

She slowly reached forward, almost scared to move too fast. She traced her fingernails underneath his boxer's strap. She watched as his stomach moved up and down at a fast speed and he shivered.

He lifted his hips and they both pulled down his boxers.

"Well, I'm completely naked and at your mercy. I think this should go." He said, his fingers ran over the bra she wore. She smiled and moved her hands behind her. She unclipped her bra and dropped it to the floor.

Eddie looked at her naked body, even better than any wet dream he had about her. Her neck was covered in his bruises.

Her eyes looked down at his cock, and they widened in shock. He was thick, red, and long. She gulped as she reached forward and traced the veins. His cock jumped at her touch. She yanked her hand back and looked at him.

"It's okay, means it felt good." He reassured her. He smiled down at her as she reached forward again. She ran her fingers up and down.

"Just softly wrap your hand around it. Keep it loose because you'll want it to be able to move. It's gonna be a little wet so spit before you move."

She listened to his instructions. She gathered spit from the back of her throat and aimed for his tip. She watched as it began to slide down, she helped rub it in. Now his cock glistened.

She wrapped her hand around him, loose like he said.

"Now move up and down," he braced himself as she began to jerk him off. He felt his eyes roll in the back of his head. Her touch was nervous and slow, but it felt amazing.

"Little faster," he croaked out. She watched his body for reactions as she moved her hands faster.

"That's it, baby." He moaned. She smiled as she seemed to be doing it correctly. With a little confidence, she moved forward and pressed her lips along his hips. She kissed just below his happy trail, his pubes tickled her chin.

Then she moved down and released her hands. Her mouth was right above his cock as she licked her lips.

"Want it in your mouth, pretty girl?" He asked, his hand moved down to grip his cock. He gave it a slight squeeze.

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Open your mouth," he demanded. She nodded and opened her mouth. He used his free hand to hold her hair back. He used his other hand to guide his cock inside her mouth. Just barely fitting the tip in at first.

"Gonna wanna open your throat and keep your tongue down. It's gonna be uncomfortable b-" he was cut off as she immediately took him fully down her throat.

"FUCK," he moaned loudly as she gagged. She wasn't sure where the confidence came from but she loved that he lost control. She moved herself back up, having him halfway in her throat. She breathed hard through her nose before she took him fully in again. She concentrated hard as she focused on keeping her throat open and sucking at the same time.

"Doing amazing, he praised. His hand stayed in her hair as he slowly moved his hips. He moaned as he hit the back of her throat and she loudly gagged. "Hold it, just a second." He begged. His body shook in bliss as he sat fully in her throat, the sound of her gags turned him on even more.

He pushed her head off and let her get air. His cock was covered in her spit as she coughed and gasped for air.

"Good?" She choked out, her throat already wrecked.

"If you stayed on any longer I would have come down your throat." He laughed, he fought to catch his breath.

"I think I'm ready again," she said, she could feel the wetness in between her legs and that ache returning.

She crawled up his body and softly placed herself down on his stomach.

"You wanna ride me?" He asked. She was full of surprises.

"Yes," she said.

"Gotta prep you first." He said as he leaned forward and pecked her lips.

"What do I do?" She asked

"Just gonna move you down a little," he said, he moved her body down in between his legs. He softly pushed her back, and her back hit the mattress.

He moved so he was hovering over her. He ran his fingers through her wetness, spreading it around and all over his fingers.

"Ready?" He asked, his fingers waiting outside her entrance.

"Yes," she said. She clenched her eyes as she waited. He slowly slipped a finger inside of her.

~

"Okay, baby. You gotta go slow though." He said. He held her hand with his left, then used his right hand to hold his cock as she slowly sunk down on it.

"Ow, ow" she cried as his tip entered.

"I know, nice and slow. It'll feel better." He said softly.

Shs took a deep breath and sunk further down. She took inch by inch, it hurt the more he filled her. But his soft whispers and his thumbs rubbed her skin, calming her down.

"That's it, good girl." He wiped the tears that fell down her cheeks. And softly kissed her lips.

She sat half way on him, she was worried his whole length would hurt too bad. She slowly picked up her hips then went back down. It took her a second to find a rhythm, but once she did, it finally felt good.

Eddie gripped her hips in a bruising grip. She was tight and so warm around him. He had to keep control of himself. She wanted to ride him so he needed to be patient. But the way she felt, the way she smelled, and the way she sounded, he wanted nothing more than to flip them around and ruin them both.

"So good," she whined, and she began to bounce on him. Eddie slowly lifted his hips up, pushing his cock further inside of her. She whimpered at the feeling but started to bounce faster.

"That's it, baby. Ride my cock, make yourself feel so good." He praised, his hot lips back on her neck as she bounced. He moaned against her skin as she squeezed him. His hands moved down to her back, then squeezed her ass. He scooped under her ass and helped her bounce on him. Her skin was sweaty and sticky as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He moved his head out of the way, allowing her naked chest to be right against his. Her breasts bounced between them.

Her breathing picked up as she felt that feeling building again. But she also felt her body growing tired. Her bounces slowed as she panted.

Eddie understood without a single word.

She gasped as he flipped them over in seconds and his cock buried inside of her. She screamed at the new position, his cock fully inside of her. His tip was hitting a spot inside of her that made her whole body buzz.

"Yes, yes, YES!" she screamed as she clawed at his neck. He had so much control over her and she loved it. She loved that he knew exactly how to fuck her.

"Fuck, so fucking tight." He moaned, he wrapped a leg around his waist as he buried himself even deeper inside of her. He quickened the pace of his thrusts as he felt his own orgasm approaching.

"Close?" He asked, his fingers on her clit as he began to rub it in circles

"uh huh." She moaned, it felt even better than the first time. That feeling burned in her stomach and snapped as she arched her back.

"That's my good girl," he praised as she cried out.

Eddie felt himself about to release so he was quick to pull out

"No, please. Want it in me." She begged, her hands pushed on his back and she hooked her legs around his waist.

"Baby, I don't have a condom."

"I don't care, please" she begged again, her voice whiny

Like Eddie could say no to that

He shoved his cock back inside of her, continuing at a fast pace as he chased his release. His moans mixed in with hers as he placed his hands by her head. She wanted to watch as he came, forcing her eyes to stay open. The way he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. His sweaty bangs stuck against his forehead.

"Make me yours. Fill me up," her dirty words pushed Eddie straight over. He bit down on her shoulder as he emptied himself inside of her.

"Fuck, baby." He panted. He pecked her cheek before he slowly slipped out of her. She squirmed when she felt his fingers slipping inside of her. "Just making sure you are full," he winked.

The wink enough made her want to do it all over again.

"Let me clean you up," he whispered. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and softly cleaned her up. She flinched but took deep breaths as he tried to move quickly.

Once he was done, he threw it back to the floor and wrapped his arms around her. She turned and cuddled into his neck. Her fingers softly ran through his curls as she closed her eyes.

"That was the best thing I've ever felt," she laughed

He softly traced shapes on her shoulders.

"Me too, I love you." He said as he picked up her chin.

"I love you too," she smiled as he leaned in. They shared a sweet kiss that made her body set on fire.

"Happy anniversary," she whispered, her lips on his again.

She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. He pushed her on her back and had his body on top of hers. His hands were already working down her body again.

The night didn't end there for either of them.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[archangeldyke-all]

oh nooo another Sevika prompt!

Sevika and Reader are hanging out at The Last Drop and Sevika cannoooooot keep her hands to herself. She takes every opportunity to grab Reader's ass and hugs her close when Reader sits on her lap during card games. She is being VERY handsy until Reader whispers "uhm hello? is something wrong? can I help you? do you want something?"

And Sevika is like [:

Which, in Sevika, only means "I'll behave if I can fuck you in the closet/bathroom/my office"

please the [: emoji made me scream because i immediately pictured this smirk of hers:

men and minors dni

ran's been a friend of yours since you were a kid, and now that they're working with silco they're sevika's favorite goon. the three of you go out for drinks together sometimes, just to laugh and gossip and relax for a bit.

tonight's one of those nights. you and sevika have been hanging out at the last drop for a while now, helping theriam flip chairs and prepare for opening, waiting for ran to get back from whatever adventure silco's sent them on today.

sevika's always a little more handsy than she probably should be in public, but tonight she's on a whole other level.

while you were helping theriam polish glasses-- sevika's arms slung around your waist and her chin hooked over your shoulder-- each time the bartender would turn away, she'd take the opportunity to start grinding against your ass, moaning in your ear.

as the two of you played a round of double solitare, sevika's boot snuck up your leg and started pressing against your cunt.

you went to the bathroom and sevika trailed after you, trying to push into the stall with you, a predatory glint in her eye and a giant pout on her lips when you told her to scram.

"fu-- what has gotten into you tonight!?" you squeak as sevika starts nibbling on your earlobe. you're on her lap now, thinking that maybe letting her hold you will help her control herself. you were clearly wrong. you're lucky nobody's at the bar yet. while you're used to her smacking your ass and making out with you in public, this is a lot. especially with her hand cupping your cunt.

sevika giggles mischievously and you smile at the sound. "maybe you, if i'm lucky." she mumbles against your throat. you snort.

"ran's gonna be here any sec-- se-vika!" you squawk as she sneaks a hand up your shirt and starts groping your tits.

"ran can wait a few minutes if they show up 'n we're busy. we've been waitin' hours for them."

with her lips on your throat and her hands pinching your nipples, sevika's making an awful lot of sense right now. still, though.

"s-sev. just wait til we get home baby-- we can lay out in the bed and take our time."

"mmm... yeah... or i could take you up to my office and bend you over my desk real quick. make you cum three or four times, get you back down here within twenty minutes."

you cackle, turning around in her arms to face her. sevika's wearing the cutest little smirk in the world, and well... you can't say no to her now. "you are fucking ridiculous." you say. sevika's smile only grows. "and you've got a lot of ambition with those numbers."

"that's not a no." sevika points out.

you just roll your eyes and lean forward, smooching her nose. "you've got ten minutes." you say.

sevika scrambles out of the booth so fast she topples the table, carrying you in a bridal hold, not letting you down no matter how much you squirm and scream. "sorry T, i'll fix the table in a sec!" she calls over her shoulder as she sprints up the stairs.

you have to muffle your cackle against her throat.

sevika bursts through her office door, her frantic energy disappearing for a moment as she gently sets you down on her desk, kissing you sweetly and carefully clearing her desk of anything that'll poke you. then, the excited, giddy look in her eye returns, she gives you a sloppy kiss, and runs to slam the door.

you just giggle, quickly stripping out of your clothes, watching sevika fling her own clothes around her office as she stumbles back toward her desk.

when she's back between your legs, you pull her in for a kiss. she sighs against your lips and you groan, sinking your fingers in her hair, making her shiver.

neither of you are naked yet, but that doesn't stop sevika's hips from grinding against your cunt. you twine your legs around her, whimpering in her mouth.

"fuck, i've been thinkin' about you all day." sevika mutters.

you giggle a bit. "i can tell."

"i could cum from fuckin' you just like this." she grunts. each time she pulls back, you can see a wet spot from your soaked underwear growing on her light blue boxers. it makes you crazy.

"m-me too." you admit. sevika grins and shoves your shirt and bra up under your armpits, pinning you to her desk and diving forward to start sucking on your tits.

you tangle one of your hands in her hair, the other sneaking under her unbuttoned shirt to scratch down her back. sevika groans loud and long when you do, and her movements against you get sporadic and sloppy.

"janna, i love you." she sighs. "i can't-- i just-- you're all i think about. obsessed with you."

"i know baby." you say, kissing sevika's head. "fuck you feel so good. you're so fuckin' cute, sev."

"a-are you close?" she whimpers. you giggle.

"are you?"

"fuck-- yes-- but i wanna make you cum first." she whines. you laugh, but when sevika shoots back up from your tits to shove her tongue down your throat, all you can do is moan and fall apart underneath her.

you shiver as you cum, and sevika hums against your lips, satisfied. you pull away with a gasp, and then give her hair a harsh tug, and sevika lets out a sweet whimper as cums. "y-you fucking soaked me, baby." she moans, awed.

her words make you groan. sevika ducks down to kiss you again, one of her hands shakily patting around her desk for something.

she manages to find the clock, pulling it up to her face and giggling before showing it to you. "we still got four minutes." she says. you cackle.

"yeah, four minutes for my legs to stop shaking before i have to walk back down those stairs."

"don't be stupid, i'll carry you."

you just burst into laughter, and pull sevika down for another kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[pathologicalreid]

blue ribbon | s.r.

in which you and Spencer dedicate yourselves to helping your daughter with the best baking soda volcano the science fair has ever seen

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: chemist!reader, misuse of lab equipment i don't care, their daughter is very girly, glitter word count: 1.46k a/n: ending the post margotober drought with the very first margovember request!!! i promise i'm working on masterlists but for some reason they're exhausting.

“Why do I have to walk backward?” You grumble while trying to balance the end of the plywood on your knee, pulling at your badge reel to unlock the lab door.

Spencer nods his head in the direction of the keypad, “That would be why.”

Rolling your eyes, you push the door handle down with your elbow before pushing the door open with your foot, shuffling your feet. “Honey, can you turn the lights on?”

Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, your daughter flips all of the switches on the panel, cringing at the bright fluorescent lights.

Together, you and Spencer hoist the science project onto one of the lab tables, careful not to knock anything over as the papier-mâché volcano rests in your professional lab.

You and Leah had stayed up until eleven last night finishing the last coat of paint, even entertaining a visit from her Aunt Penelope so that the finished project could have a fine dusting of glitter all over it. Your dining room was now permanently sparkly, but the look on your daughter’s face when she saw the finished project made the mess entirely worth it.

Spencer steps to grab your jugs of white vinegar from the car, propping the door open so he can bring the supplies for the baking soda volcano in.

Obviously, you weren’t going to use the full-size volcano now, but Leah had refused to travel without it and Spencer believes that saying no to her is an impossible task. “Mommy?” The little girl pipes up, playing with the stirring rod that you had just set in front of her.

“What’s up?” You ask, leaning your hip against the counter, gently reaching out and adjusting the bows adorning her pigtails that you’d put in her hair that morning.

She looks over at the wall, minding each of the posters that line your laboratory, “What is that?”

You follow her finger to see what she’s pointing at, smiling softly, “It’s the periodic table.”

Humming thoughtfully, Leah sets the stirring rod down and walks over to the poster, “It looks like the one at home.”

Nodding, you get a step stool out for her to stand on, “They’re the same poster, the one we have at home is just a lot smaller than the one I keep at work.” You explain to her, knowing she’s talking about the poster you keep in your home office. “Come on baby, let’s go get you a lab coat.”

Setting a hand on her shoulder, you guide her to the storeroom, “Woah,” she breathes. It’s not a positive reaction, her eyes flitter all around the room, a mess of lab coats and goggles.

“Okay,” you say, shoving your way through the space until you find your locker, pulling out your lab coat, as well as safety glasses for the whole family. Holding a coat up to her and having her pull it on, you put your own lab coat on before looking back to find your five-year-old drowning in polyester. Laughing slightly, you adjust the lapels of her jacket, “How does it feel?”

Leah looks down at herself, “Cool!” She exclaims beaming up at you and giving you two thumbs up. She skips out of the closet and heads back to her volcano, almost tripping over the extra fabric of the lab coat, but Spencer grabs her arm before her knees can hit the linoleum.

He smiles at her, “Are you okay?” Helping her adjust her coat, he kneels down to her.

“Daddy,” she cheers, completely ignoring his question for the sake of being five years old, “Look at my coat!”

Smoothing her hair back, Spencer’s eyes briefly meet yours before he looks back to Leah, “You look like mommy.”

In a fit of giggles, he scoops her up in his arms in an attempt to avoid a tripping hazard, but she just thinks it’s fun. He sets her down feet-first on the step stool you had gotten out for her.

“Here,” you say, handing him a lab coat for him to wear and setting the safety goggles you’d gathered on the countertop.

When your daughter came home in tears because she felt like she had been assigned the ‘most boringest’ project for the science fair, you and Spencer quickly decided that you’d try everything to make her baking soda volcano exciting. At the very least, you’d work together to make sure she has fun.

Leah puts her goggles on and looks up at you for her next instruction, watching you divide the baking soda and white vinegar into separate beakers, “So, what will happen when we add these two together?” Spencer quizzes, watching you make careful portions.

“It’s gonna fizz up!” She responds correctly, bouncing on her feet while you gently push the first two dishes in front of her.

You nod, “You can pour the white vinegar into the baking soda,” You nudge her gently, knowing that you measured just enough to reach the top of the beaker, but not enough to flow onto the counter.

She uses both hands to grip the beaker and pour the liquid out, and the immediate reaction surprises her so much that Spencer holds an arm out to keep her upright. He trains his eyes on her amazement as the foam dissipates and the water and sodium acetate are left in the glass. “Can I drink it?” She asks, frowning up at her dad.

“No,” you both answer immediately, a sort of parental reflex. If you don’t answer quickly enough, odds are she’d pick it up and try anyway.

Disappointed, her frown remains on her face while her eyes return to the countertop, timidly, she tugs on Spencer’s lab coat, prompting him to crouch down to her eye level, “What’s wrong, lovey?”

Her eyes nervously look around the lab, eyeing some of the cabinets before she takes a deep breath, “Can we make it pink?”

“The foam?” Spencer says curiously, eyes flickering up at you while you nod frantically, already thinking up options so that you could further individualize your daughter’s glitter volcano.

She rocks back and forth, “Can we?”

As soon as Spencer says yes, it’s like a hold on you has been released, unlocking some of the cabinets so you can grab more supplies from around the lab, you return to the station with an armful of things to try, and Spencer mutters something to Leah about you being a mad scientist, leading you to maturely stick your tongue out at him.

You set up four options, taking photos as you go so you can paste them onto her presentation board. The first one is just baking soda, but you added a touch of dish soap to the vinegar. The increase in bubbles seems to greatly please Leah, so you decide as a team that the final product should have dish soap in it.

The second one has manganese sulfate mixed into the baking soda, and if the pink salt altered the color of the foam at all, it doesn’t impress your perfectionist daughter.

The third one includes phenolphthalein, which you think has some real potential, based on the way Leah’s eyes widen at the sight of it combined with the vinegar. The liquid was almost a fuchsia color, and she gasps when she pours it in to find that the foam is white, “It’s gone?”

You nod, “The phenolphthalein when it’s in the vinegar is pink because it’s an acid, but as soon as you add the baking soda it becomes a basic solution, so…” Your voice trails off when Spencer starts shaking his head, and you look down to find that you have completely lost Leah’s attention. Instead of listening, she’s trying to pronounce phenolphthalein, tracing the letters on the black countertop.

“What do you have next?” Spencer asks, eyeing the tiny dropper bottle in front of you.

Picking it up, you drop some of it into the vinegar and hand it to Leah, “It’s food coloring.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Why do you have food coloring in the lab?”

You wrinkle your nose at him, the expression makes Leah giggle, “Mind your business.”

As a family, you watch the chemical reaction, the white of the foam mixing with the red food coloring to create the desired pink lava. “Oh,” your daughter says softly, “Thank you, mommy!”

Beaming down at her, you place your hands on your hips and sigh, “If you’d like, we can add glitter to the baking soda too.”

Wide eyes look up at you in amazement, brown eyes inherited from her father, “I love science,” she whispers.

Behind her back, you hold your hand out for Spencer, exchanging a silent fist bump—a quiet celebration between two scientists.

[idesofrevolution]

Quality Time

*PING* Rocco looked down and smiles. He'd been wondering what Carlo and their father had been up to for the past week. Ever since their mother left a couple of years back, their father had been relatively distant- choosing to spend his hours away from the office at the gym instead of at home with his sons. To be fair, Rocco had left the house at 18, and now at 24 he wasn't home as often as he'd hoped. Nonetheless, it took both boys by shock when their relatively distant father decided to take a month off of work to spend some "quality time" with his sons. Carlo got the first two weeks, and Rocco would have the second. What they were in for, their father wouldn't say.

Hey, Roc. Dad wants us all to meet up tonight. We're at the gym on Broad Street, meet us there in 30 minutes.

The text was odd, definitely different than the normally chipper tone his brother is known for having. There wasn't even a single emoji... Rocco had hoped that everything would go well, but from the curtness of Carlo's message, it wasn't looking good. He sighed, walking his lanky ass over to the closet and throwing on some clothes, wasting no time making the 20 minute walk down to Broad street. The dim neon glow of the Planet Jacked sign illuminated the front of the strip mall; at 9PM on a Wednesday, the gym was the only business open compared to the vacant suites and GameStop next door.

Rocco pulled open the door, pulling out his phone to text Carlo that he'd arrived. The response was immediate:

In the kettlebell room. Hurry up.

Something did feel off, but Rocco had dismissed it as an irritated Carlo trying to pawn their gruff and macho dad off on him. Neither were "manly men" by their father's standards, not that he'd ever treated them poorly by any means. It just meant that they had little to nigh in common with eachother, and little to build a very "buddy buddy" relationship on. But, at least he was making an effort.

Rocco made his way through the gym floor, weaving through benches and weight machines to the double glass doors that houses the calisthenics room. He pushed open the door, and walked inside. Right off the bat, his suspicions that something was off were proven to be justified as he saw his brother flexing in the mirror. Or at least, he thought it was his brother. The man had Carlo's likeness: his short stature, his green eyes, the black and green headphones... but this was not his brother.

Carlo was easily 100 lbs of muscle heavier than when he'd left with their father on Monday morning. His hair was buzzed short, his formerly friendly face now scowled an aggressive smoulder, his arms and legs were bursting with hard muscle. Compared to the 5'2" skinny 19 year old Rocco had known, this man might as well have been a stranger.

"Get my bag over there, gotta shower and change." His voice was harsh, gruff... as if he'd smoked eight cigars before working out. He remained flexing in the mirror, as Rocco stood there gobsmacked. His eyes quickly shifted from his physique to his brother standing perplexed at the door. "You gonna sit and stare or are we gonna get going?" Rocco slowly walked over to Carlo's gym bag, picking it up and straining to shlep it over his shoulder. "Jesus, Roc. We've got to get you into the gym. C'mon, let's go." Carlo turned and walked out of the room, with Rocco hastening to meet his pace.

"Uh, Carlo... Did you... take something? I mean, I'm not accusing you of anything, but how did you..."

"Get this fuckin' jacked? Dad helped out a bit." Outside of Rocco's eyesight, Carlo smirked devilishly. He sneered, hocking a mouthful of spit onto the garbage can. Rocco nearly dropped the bag and bolted. This couldn't be the sweet, naive little brother he'd grown up with. If anything, he was acting more like their father than himself. As they entered the locker room, Carlo stopped at the mirror again, pinching his chin as if he were checking himself out in the mirror. "Yeah, Dad was saying he wanted me to try some pussy this week, and that girls liked a guy with guns. Heh, it worked." He flexed his massive arms, the putrid scent of heavy unwashed musk wafted from his pits as he did. Rocco pinched his nose, dropping the gym bag onto the bench.

"Since when have you been interested in girls?" Rocco spoke with genuine concern in his voice. Carlo had been an out and proud gay man for years now. Their father never understood it, but it never really bothered him any. To him, as long as his sons were 'getting some' then all was well. But this, combined with Carlo's inflated ego and body...

"Since I felt like it. Thought I'd give breedin' a try. After six girls this week, I'm tuckered out." Carlo sauntered toward the shower stalls, tossing his hat and headphones to his brother before turning to face him. "Dad will be here in a minute, just wait here." With that, he walked into the stall, and Rocco could hear the water starting to flow. He fell backward onto the bench, awestruck. Turning to the bag, Rocco imagined vials and vials of steroids and testosterone hiding within. It was the only logical explanation. Taking a deep breath, he slowly unzipped the bag, and ripped the top open to reveal:

Nothing. Carlos' normal street clothes, albeit a bit stretched out now, and an empty shaker bottle. No drugs, no syringes, nothing incriminating whatsoever. Whatever had happened to him, it wasn't due to roid rage.

"NNNNUGUUHHHH" Carlo's voice echoed in the empty locker room over the sound of the showerhead. Rocco stood up quickly, darting toward the shower stalls. Before he could ask if his brother was okay, the noises began. Wet noises- unaffiliated with the running shower. Rocco slowly crept closer, and the sounds had become clearer. Slimy schlorps and squelches combined with Carlo's moans of seeming pleasure. Was he fucking a pocket pussy? Surely not, he assumed, though in the back of his mind, the brother he'd seen was not the Carlo he knew. "uuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNAGHHHHHH!" One final moan and a rubbery slurp, and the room was silent again.

Rocco quickly rushed to the end stall, ready to rip the white curtain open, only for it to open on it's own: revealing the hulking figure of his father. The shock was palpable, as thick as the steam in the air. His father towered above him, as he always did, a massive slab of hard meat with a face. Sweat dripped from every part of his hulking body, and his face was already plastered with a surprised expression. As if he weren't expecting Rocco to see him yet.

"Dad... Is Carlo oka..." Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw his brother slumped over on the shower seat, passed out under the hot streams of water: still in the shorts and running shoes he'd been wearing moments ago. His muscled body could barely bend at the waist, so his limp torso sat at a slight angle to the rest of his body. Rocco turned to his father, whose expression hadn't yet changed.

"I said I'd be there in a minute, Roc." The limber young man tried to rush to his passed out brother, only for the iron grip of his father to stop him in his tracks. "He'll be fine. He'll wake up just the way you know him, with a couple of extra pounds. Don't you worry."

"Dad, what the fuck is going on?" Rocco shouted at his father, whose brows began to furrow. The hulking man grabbed the white curtain, shutting it behind his son. Slowly the look of shock turned to one of seriousness, and a twinge of nervousness shot down Rocco's spine.

"I'm on vacation, Roc. With my boy. And now it's your turn to spend some time with your old man." Rocco took a step back, confused and anxious. "You're what, 24 now? Let me tell you something, Roc. When you hit 50, it doesn't matter if you're the sexiest god damn man alive- women just don't look at you the same. They take one look at you and see a stacked old man. They look at you like you're disgusting, Roc. I just wanted things to be the way they used to, when I was your age." Another step backward, and Rocco felt himself pinned against the wall. "It doesn't hurt. Carlo said it felt damn good. He'll wake up feelin' like a million bucks and go right back to sticking that greasy pole into some man ass. Might even be better than before. But you..." His father leaned in against the wall, the wafting stench of his BO encircling the two. "You swing both ways. So will you do your pop a favor, Roc?" Rocco swallowed his spit, as his father leaned in until they stood inches from eacother, eye to eye.

"W... What kind of favor?"

"Let me be young again. Just for a couple weeks. I'll hop back in Carlo if things get out of hand, he's already said he's good with it. Let your old man take you for a spin, show you how I used to do it back in the day. Then at the end of the month, I hop right out. Deal?" His father stuck his hand out, waiting for him to accept this insane deal. Rocco turned to his brother, slowly coming back to consciousness.

"... One week. And if you don't fuck things up, I'll think about the other two." His father smiled as Rocco shook his hand in agreement.

"Turn around, boy. And just take some deep breaths." Rocco did as he was told, slowly turning around and placing his hand onto the brown tiled wall. He could hear Carlo coming to, and hearing the wet clap of his father's hands rubbing together. "Alright, boy. It's gonna be tight, deep breath!" Rocco took a slow inhale, feeling a strange tingling sensation as he felt his father's hands on his bony shoulderblades. As he exhaled, he could feel the calloused hands slowly sink into his back. "Ohhhh, fuck." His father's gravelly bass voice growled in the cavernous room, soaring above the wet schlorps of his huge arms slowly sinking deeper into his son. Rocco watched as his father's hands appeared beneath the skin of his arms, the outline of his fingers sliding down his biceps and forearms was quickly followed by the sounds of rubbery creaks as his father's considerable muscles slid into his own. Bones cracked and skin stretched as powerful biceps and firm forearms swelled with the invasion, as his father's hands slipped into his own like two tight gloves. His meaty fingers cracked under their own volition, as his father flexed his new triceps.

"Da... Dad? Oh fuck, Roc! It's your turn now, huh, bro?" Carlo's chipper voice cut through the wet sloshing as his father stepped forward, shoving his huge sweaty feet forward into Rocco's heels, immediately swelling to fit his size 14 boats. His father's ripe foot sweat started to pour from his soles while his calves started to sink in as well. "Feels great, right? I mean look at me? Dad promised a rockin' bod, and I mean, fuck! What guy is gonna turn me down now?" Rocco continued his deep breaths, trying to ignore his brother's bizarrely normal demeanor.

"Boy, you remember what your dad taught you. Take control, and fuck hard. They'll be beggin' for that cock." As the words left his father's mouth, he thrust his groin against Rocco's rear, letting his son's skin wrap around his thick ass as he slid his beer can dick into the sheath of his boy's- quickly swelling thick and musky as his balls grew into the size of clementines.

"Roc, just wait. Dad's gonna take good care of you. We're closer than ever, right pop?" His father's hard, hairy torso sank quickly into Rocco, his back expanding as his body fully enveloped his father up to their necks. Massive, juicy pecs and washboard abs pressed against his taut skin, and sputterings of the old man's hair started to sprout across his legs, arms, and chest. Rocco looked down at his massive body, no longer under his control, inflated with his father's stature. He could feel the scratchy scruff of the old man's beard against the nape of his neck.

"Alright, boy. Let me just slide..." He felt his father's nose press against the back of his head, and as it sank in, his vision became fuzzy. "Right..." His neck bulged and stretched, his jaw clenched and sharpened. "On..." His hair grew thick and messy, his eyebrows fuller and lower. As the last of his head was swallowed by the back of Rocco's head, a final crack of his neck and a slow exhale signaled that Rocco had already sank into the recesses of his mind. Facial hair sprouted across his chiseled jawline, as he smiled his pearly white teeth. "In." His father's gravelly tone now bellowed deep from within. He pushed himself off the wall, stretching his now 6'3" body, dripping in his old man's fragrant sweat. Turning to Carlo, he raised his eyebrow.

"Alright, boy. Let's go get some ass."

---

"Yeah, this is my brother's place, we'll be alone here. Don't you worry!" Carlo led the couple into Rocco's apartment, the boyfriend ogling his juicy ass as they walked inside. "Yeah, he's in the other room. This way." Carlo smiled as he threw his arm around the duo, the woman blushing as she turned to him.

"You sure he's down for this?" Carlo only smirked as he opened the door to the bedroom, revealing 'Rocco' in all his glory, swiping through the endless supply of thirsty messages on his Taimi. The couple's jaws dropped at the very sight of him, fresh from the gym, smelling of a locker room right after a basketball tournament.

"Oh wow... Uh, Hi there... I'm Victoria and this is Ollie..." 'Rocco' barely looked up from his phone, picking up his ripe gym shoe and socks, and tossing them to Ollie.

"Sniff, boy. When you're done with that, you can do the same for my brother." The boyfriend eagerly started to huff the stinking sock, moaning in pleasure as he did. "And you..." He put his phone down onto the table, turning to Victoria with a wry smirk. "Come show daddy some love."

[boysmentfs]

The fraternity party.

It was Saturday morning and as Timothy knew, today was a day full of alcohol and sex at the fraternity and like every Saturday, he couldn't study with the music so loud.

Timothy stood up from his bed, rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses, the boy was cute, with just his cute brunette hair combed halfway down, his cute glasses and his baby face and with only 1"60 height, They made Timothy one of the cutest guys in college even though everyone knew he was gay and a nerd.

"Good morning, I guess" Timothy commented as he got out of bed and went to the closet to put on something comfortable, it was Saturday, it was sunny and he was just going to be studying all day, So he just put on a white t-shirt, jeans and sandals.

Once he got ready, he sat on his bed with some books, pencils, notebooks and started studying, it had to be like this because he had a scholarship and he couldn't waste this moment, His dream was to be a scientist so he had to study a lot, it didn't affect him, he loved studying.

"I will have a future, not like that idiot Jack and his "brothers" " Timothy commented while letting out a chuckle.

While someone was laughing, or rather something, interrupted the moment, Timothy continued with his thing while saying a "come in" The moment they opened the door, to their dismay it was Jack, He was shirtless, wearing short shorts showing off his amazing hairy legs and a pair of sandals showing off his large, masculine feet.

Even though Timothy hated Jack, he actually had a crush on him but it was obvious that he would never tell him, because if that happened he knew his life would change completely.

"Hey! Lil' bro, I came to invite you to our frat party and well, I also wanted to know if we could be friends, you know? I had an argument with that idiot Luke"

Timothy looked at him and raised an eyebrow, Jack wasn't the typical idiot jock who made fun of him for being gay or nerdy, but he found it quite strange that he came to invite him to the party and even more so, Also ask him to be his friend.

"Uhm, Jack, you know that I don't like those parties and also, why would you ask me to be your friend? I mean, there are quite a few differences between us." Timothy commented in a calm and light tone as he continued reading a book.

"Uh, uh, I know that bro, but I don't know, I'm feeling nice today you know? Plus, you'd be a good replacement for Luke, I mean, two of both weren't the same in body or sexual orientation, but you guys are pretty cute and funny, so what do you say, lil' bro? Jack commented with a smile on his face.

"Sorry Jack, but I can't go to your party. Be your friend, yes, but go to your party, no. I have homework to do and a lot more chores, but seriously, have fun!"

"C'mon, bro! Don't be a party pooper, I see you studying every day, you should go out and party for a while to brighten up your life! It'll only be for a little while and then I'll leave you and you can come back to study, okay?"

Timothy turned to look at him and a smile appeared on his face.

"Okay, okay, you win, you're right, I should have some fun, but then I go back to my room to study, okay?

"yeah!" Jack commented as he watched Timothy get up from the bed and walk over to him to stand by his side, their height difference was different.

Once Timothy stood next to Jack, Jack put an arm around him as the two walked towards the frat house, once they arrived Timothy was quite surprised, There were shirtless men everywhere, women flirting with these same men, and quite a bit of alcohol.

Jack's brothers turned to see him and greeted him, Jack grabbed Timothy and they went to where they were, Timothy greeted them and they did too.

"Wow, wow, what do we have here?" one of Jack's bro's commented.

"Well, he'll be our new bro, since that idiot Luke didn't appreciate us and speaking of that"

Jack looked at Timothy.

"This is a frat party, it's hot, it's summer, Luke left some clothes at our frat, go to his room and wear what you like, okay? Back room and turn to the right."

Hearing this, Timothy nodded as he walked into the fraternity house, he wasn't surprised at all, there were clothes lying around, they were dirty, they had a weird smell, just like he imagined, Once he got to Luke's room and opened it, there were still some posters of half-naked women, workout gear, and some stuff lying around.

Jack went to his closet and looked for something clean and that would fit the heat and then he found some brown shorts with palm trees printed on them.

"These are pretty cute, hehe, I can't believe I'm going to wear frat boy clothes! So horny... I hope they fit me well."

Once Timothy told himself that, he took off his jeans and threw them on the floor while he put on Luke's shorts, once he put them on he had to go look at himself in the mirror And luckily for he, there was a full-body one in Luke's room, so he went and looked at himself, it looked pretty cute.

And then before he could get back to Jack, he started to feel weird and hot, the idea of wearing a muscled frat boy's clothes excited him but he didn't realize how much.

The heat that his body felt was too much, so he took off his shirt and let it fall on the floor, while the heat rose even more.

"What the fuck is going on!?" Timothy said while covering his mouth, he had never said a rude thing in his life, so he was in shock.

But before he could continue wondering, he saw with his own eyes how his feet began to become larger and more masculine, His fingers lengthened as a manly scent came from them.

At this point Timothy was so in shock with everything, that he froze, instead of running or calling for help, he stood in front of the mirror with a scared face.

He watched as his thin legs began to increase in size, while becoming stronger, more of an athlete, Muscles began to emerge from these same ones while their skin changed to a more mature one, Now he had two trunks as legs.

He watched as his stomach began to move on its own, burning all the fat he had so that a six pack of abs would appear, They looked very worked out, as if they were in the gym all day, Timothy knew this was all wrong, but he couldn't move.

The next thing to change were his arms, which were once thin but began to swell with pure muscle while his biceps reached the size of soccer balls, some veins stood out on his arms, his hands also changed, his fingers lengthened while now having a more masculine and mature appearance.

His thin chest began to burn as his pectorals began to bulge reaching a great size, they became large and sensitive, His torso expanded along with his shoulders to give him a more jock look.

His face began to creak as he began to change, his Adam's apple becoming even more prominent, All the baby fat he had began to oxidize to give way to a more defined jawline while a small shadow of hair appeared on this same jawline, His lips became fuller, his nose became prettier, his cheekbones became more prominent, but despite all that, he still had a rather cute and baby-like face.

He also increased in height, going from 1'60 to a powerful 1'80 making him the tallest in the fraternity.

His eyes also changed, his haircut also began to change to a more relaxing and masculine look and also somewhat jock, His hair that was brown began to change, The black began to take place to completely disappear into the brown, his hair that was also straight began to change to curly, curls fell on his face.

Timothy began to feel pressure on his cock, it was at that moment that he saw how his cock began to grow bigger under his shorts, Curious to know, he pulled down his pants and his new designer boxers and watched as his penis went from 5 centimeters to about 15 centimeters, His cock was now thick and big, even more so because it was erect, then he began to feel the need to jerk off.

"I have a nice body... Nice face and a nice new cock, why not?" Timothy commented as he began to jerk off his new cock.

As he did this, new memories began to flood his mind, memories of how he joined the fraternity, how he became friends with Jack, how he loved women and their t*ts... No, he was gay... Right?

He also remembered how this morning before the frat party he had gotten into a fight with Jack, Timothy reached orgasm and his "sweet milk" began to spread all over the floor of the room.

"Damn... Just imagining how many girls I'll pick up today and also how I'm going to feed them with my seed makes me pretty horny." Luke comment with his voice, which certainly sounded masculine and very mature.

"Right! There's a party outside, Jack and my other brothers must be waiting for me."

Luke commented and then put his cock in his shorts, left his room and arrived with his brothers.

"Wow, looks like someone isn't mad at me anymore, right Luke?" Jack commented while patting his chest.

they talked for a while and then he asked his brothers to take a photo to upload it for his Instagram.

He knew he was hot and he didn't want to waste any time showing off his great achievements.

[romanoffsbish]

Sex on the Beach

Wanda Maximoff x F!R (College AU)

Natasha x F!R x Yelena (found family)

Warnings: Alcohol | Possessive / Jealous Wanda | Mutual Pining | Shy / Awkward R | Natasha is a little shit 💕

Smut: Awkward/Sweet 1st time (Dialogue Breaks) | Mommy (W) | Thigh-Riding / Strap / Oral (R) | Marking | Oral (W)

With Natasha’s lover deployed for the holiday’s she takes an interest in her best friend’s pathetic love life. | WC: 8,676

Request

"Natasha, I swear to god I will never forgive you," you whined, hands clutching desperately onto your best friend's crossed arms, but she wasn't phased one bit.

That much was clear as she slowly rolled her eyes, "There are eight rooms, and eleven of us Y/N, there's no way around it. Val and Carol are sharing, I'm the one grouped up with Lena, so suck it up buttercup."

"I can bunk with Bucky!" Natasha laughed, "Yeah, and then when Steve sneaks in what will you do? Pretend to be asleep while they fuck like it's the closet, again?"

You quite frankly didn't mind such vile behavior. Anything seemed better to you than the alternative.

——

"Love is love," you used the mantra as a plead and the redhead nearly keeled over. "Nice..." You grinned then, with a doomed sense of glee. "Still not happening."

"Then why don't you make them bunk together?"

"Because they'd know we know, and it is rude to force people out of their clear glass closets Y/N/N." You simply huffed in reply, and pushed her slightly as you released your former death grip on her. Natasha smiled softly this time, but she refused to change her mind. It was her job as your best friend to push you in the right direction, even if you couldn't see the bigger picture just yet. "Hey! At least Wanda doesn't snore."

You knew from experience Natasha was making the biggest sacrifice of all with Yelena, but quite frankly you didn't care. Right now you are feeling spiteful.

Natasha cackled at the middle finger you threw her way, but it was more so because you tripped as you spun to get away from her. You never hit the ground though as two dainty, albeit mighty hands caught you.

Wanda's eyes had lit up, her nose scrunched as her lips raised joyfully. Natasha could see the hearts circling. So, the redhead took her cue to go, and that made the brunette even more pleased to have you all to herself.

"Falling for me so soon, kitten?" Wanda teased, her lips curled up into an obnoxiously hot smile as your uncrossing eyes peered up at her, you were paralyzed; unsure if you wanted to kiss her grin away or slap it out of existence. The way she never failed to leave you in a hazy state of mind infuriated you, like yes, she was a gorgeous woman, but did she have to crumble you?!

The answer was also yes, all you offered the girl was a weak thanks for saving you from scraped palms, then you quickly scurried off to the room she'd be in soon.

Just like every time, you didn't look up nor back at her, ensuring you missed her sad eyes and pouty lips. If you wanted her plenty, she wanted you even more. Nobody else interested her quite like you did. Wanda had seen you at a few frat parties before she then forged her way into your friend group through Carol and Valkyrie.

They were all on the same volleyball team, and they hit it off so well that they brought her to a game night. You weren't known for your silence, but when she entered that apartment you suddenly became mute. Natasha teased you for a week about your pathetic gay panic, she even tried to tell you it was a mutual crush, but you refused to believe her; she who would never lie to you, yet you questioned her loyalty, lost in a haze of fear.

Natasha was honestly offended; more so determined.

Which is why she had to resort to begging Tony not to book the bigger place for the winter break kick back you were having. None of you had family, at least not the kind worth visiting, so you celebrated together.

For a change of pace from snow and gloom, the lot of you saved up enough for getting passports and Tony refused to let any of you worry about the rest. Howard was not a good father, or man quite frankly, but his well of guilt money was something Tony appreciated.

The Fijian resort he booked was gorgeous, and resided on a private part of the oceanfront, but was still within walking distance of the communal areas. It might be winter vacation, but you were in a sunny paradise across the world, the palm trees swayed as the brisk breeze brought on by the ocean blew right on by.

It was warm and humid, just as you'd expect in a tropical paradise such as this one. After the awkward moment spent embarrassing yourself with your crush you made sure to not be there when she got to the room. Fortunately for you she was stopped by the long term lovers, Care and Val, so you had just enough time to drop your belongings off before exploring the island.

The island was beautiful and the people were friendly enough to even give you a tour of the not so common spots. It was peaceful talking to strangers, and unlike in the states you didn't feel like you were a bother.

After they'd been so generous with their time you thanked them with lunch before heading back to where your friends were all lazing about indoors. To avoid further embarrassment you settled down in the sand and before you realized it you'd spent hours out there.

Perched under a cluster of trees, lost in a nsfw book, honestly you could've stayed there until the sun had set but your friends never really could let you know peace.

"I'm not going," you immediately denied whomever it was that was sent to collect you. Fearful to see the brunette of your dreams after finally calming down.

"Y/N, you need to stop being such a party pooper!"

You sighed softly, knowing that of course Natasha would send the only other person who doesn't back down when it comes to your antics; a lifetime of friendship tends to come with these pesky advantages.

After a moment of anxious thoughts you sighed again, slid a bookmark between the nearly finished pages then held your hand out for the impatient blonde. Yelena grumbled, "took you long enough, I was getting tired of the pity partying," as she hoisted you up with a force that nearly put you right back on the ground.

"It's not a pity party," you weakly defended in offense but the blonde only cackled as she began to walk off, "Y/N, you are all alone reading a book about sex with longing eyes and a pout, totally unnecessary too since you have someone patiently waiting to rail you..."

"Oh my god, Yelena!" The blonde took off before you could berate her like her mom would, but not without shouting back that Natasha had picked your outfit out for you with express instructions on not deviating.

For a split second you considered dropping back into the you shaped hole in the sand, but you knew Yelena was only a warning. If Natasha came to collect you it would be more embarrassing and it was only day one of the trip, there were still nine left to go so you caved.

Once you got to your room you found it to be empty of the woman you feared being around, but her elegant scent lingered and left you in a state of contemplation.

Would it really be so bad to see if Natasha is right?

Could you really be oversimplifying her kindness?

The more you consider it, the more you see her point. Wanda never missed a chance to talk to you, even in the hallways of the massive university she said hello. You usually nodded your head or squeaked out a hi, which you now hope she didn't take offensively. The last thing you'd ever want would be to offend her.

Then there was the glaring proof of today, when she playfully insinuated you'd fall for her... Either she is just a full time tease or you are an oblivious idiot. Truthfully, it was likely a combination of the two.

Your thoughts of consideration died when you looked down to see clothes that were not from your luggage. Natasha had apparently gone shopping for, not with, you and laid out a swim suit and two overlay options.

There was a strapless, one piece swimsuit, which you were grateful for, but the fabric over the hips was cut out and only barely passed the test of your boundaries. After you slipped into it you were left with a dilemma, wear the sheer swim slip or the form fitting dress.

"Good choice," a raspy voice called, you didn't even flinch, part of you expecting the woman to be keeping an eye on you just in case you tried to bail. Natasha chuckled, "at least this time you aren't falling," as you'd flipped the redhead off once more, this time without turning to face her as you were getting dressed.

"Or was that on purpose?" Natasha teased, "Letting Wanda save you—the pretty damsel in distress."

"I hate you," you grumbled as you turned to glare at her. Natasha negated your phrase as her hands moved to pat down the fly away hairs ruined by the fabric sliding over your head, then she smiled proudly. "You sure clean up well when you are properly supervised."

"Now, now... None of that," Natasha scolded as you flopped back onto your mattress in a defiant manner, huffing angrily in Russian to get the point across. "You are getting better, the lessons with mama are working."

"Da," you smiled fondly thinking of Melina, who was one of the only of your friend's parents you liked. The woman presents outwardly as cold, but it's not true. You knew what cold was, you'd grown up with it and so the Russian's house was like a home away from hell.

When Melina said, "How's my baby girl been?" last year while moving to hug you first instead of Nat or Lena you nearly sobbed all over the woman's blouse. But with a petty quip from Lena, "what are we then? Just her daughters?" followed by a jab to her ribs from Natasha who smiled at you, the urge to break down was gone and you kept it together to celebrate.

This year their mom had gone back home, they were going to go along but she was adamant they focused on their friendships and hopefully partners soon. Yelena wasn't as hopeless as you, but Kate unfortunately was.

Nat had Maria—who was deployed for the holidays, and it was then that you realized her focusing on your love life was for her distraction and her mom's joy.

"Stop having googly eyes for my mom," she gagged, "Save them for Wanda." You stood up and pulled your friend's face into your hands, expression far too serious for the redhead to believe you were in distress. "We didn't want to tell you girls yet, but Melina and I are..."

"Don't you finish that sentence you disgusting freak!"

Natasha ripped her face from your hands so she could escape the torture that was your devilish humor. Just as she reached the door she turned to you with a fixed glare as you were wiping away humored tears. "What?"

"Stop standing there like an idiot and follow me Y/N."

You followed the redhead silently, but with a scowl so that she knew you didn't align with her view of you. The walk to the private cabana was silent, but soon the booming voices of your friends surrounded you as they practically cheered. "You two are behind on shots!"

Tony wasted no time after alerting you to the 'dilemma' before he was handing you two full to the brim with what you knew to be the most expensive vodka. The drops lost down your chin probably worth more than the beat up Camry that you drove around back home.

After the burn in your throat faded you stepped into the circle and clashed a third shot into your friends before the lot of you tossed them back with glee. You could feel your mind and body loosening up, it was a relief honestly but then you caught sight of the deep, vivacious green eyes that were raking over your body.

In turn, you followed suit and were not disappointed. Natasha dressed you more provocatively but Wanda looked like she was interested in a casual evening. The brunette didn't need the skimpy dress or makeup to attract the attention of others, at least not with you.

Currently, she was wearing a nude bikini, the top noticeable behind the lengthy patterned cover up. Yet it still turned your mind to mush without the flair and left you to ponder if you were ready to make a move.

Your eyes continued to shamelessly wander her body, a side effect of the strong booze you supposed. There was a thin gold chain that worked like a choker around her neck, with another chain that dangled down the front and drew your attention to the valley of her chest as it only stopped just above her navel. It took everything in you not to gawk at her breasts, so you trailed your eyes back up to find her staring at you, eyes full of tease.

You definitely knew then you weren't ready, the closest you came was to send her an easy smile and Wanda sent back a more enthusiastic one because to her that was still progress. If she played her cards right this trip and thanked the godsend that is Natasha for forcing proximity she might just leave Fiji with you on her hip.

Natasha sent you a soft glare when you excused yourself to the ladies room, where after using the restroom you decided you'd build your courage up a bit more before you would even try to start a conversation.

That's how you found yourself patiently waiting your turn at the bar, sitting sideways on the stool as you fondly watched your friends from afar with a smile.

"Sex on the beach!" Yes, most definitely you thought while giving Wanda another look over. Then you were brought back to reality when the bartender tapped your shoulder. Your body shook with fright, but you regained your composure as you shifted. Kelani, the bartender, smirked as you cocked your head to the side in question. "Courtesy of the lady at the end of the bar." You gulped, clearing your throat to thank the woman then turned to see Natasha in a cloak. The redhead winked, then slinked away to the restroom.

It seemed the persistent woman had a death wish, because if you didn't get to her first, Wanda might.

Unfortunately, you were whisked away before you could reach your shit head of a best friend, who you figured was planning something all day long. Shit head was beginning to seem like an understatement when you felt a body pressing yours into the side of a door.

How the hell did you get inside so quickly?

Wanda was fuming, she was no stranger to a one night stand, and there was no way in hell she'd let you follow the dead woman walking there. It actually hurt her to see you making your way through the crowd to do so.

Was the smile you sent her in vain? Were you merely trying your hand at letting the woman down easy?

There was no part of Wanda willing to accept that, even if you were free to mingle with whomever. She couldn't let you try before you gave her a chance, so she pulled you away from the public, prying eyes of the locals so that she could try her luck one final time.

A light flickered on and you saw your belongings, then you saw a tumultuous sea of green staring down at you, she looked hurt and that made your heart ache and mind nervous. "Wh-what was that W-wanda?"

"What were you doing following that woman Y/N?" She decided to answer your question with one of her own instead, and slowly tilted her head to the side. It felt like you were in trouble, so you remained quiet and it nearly infuriated her but then she saw your gaze.

It was soft, inquisitive in nature, but moreover dilated.

Something deeper than lust swirled; annoyance, and that's when she got the answer. Wanda already had her suspicion of who it was, and she silently thanked her before readjusting her position as well as her words.

"You don't have to be so shy around me, you know?" You did know, but the bashfulness wasn't something you controlled around the goddess, much like your mouth when tipsy, "I know, but like—I can't help but to be turned on by the sight of you."

Well, so much for remaining bashful, Wanda's cheeks warmed before your very eyes, but you missed it as you closed them due to embarrassment. It was taking all of her willpower not to give you what you were both in need of. You were far too special for a quickie, she fully intended to take her time with you, "You know, how about a little fun before we go to bed?"

"F-fun?" Wanda's eyes fell to catch the trepidation of your throat, it bobbed out, almost unnaturally. You both knew there was no going back as her knee slid between your thighs to press into your wet swimsuit.

An airy chuckle left her as you whined, the woman knew for damn sure you'd barely made it to the bar so there was no way you'd taken a dive in the water first.

"Yes honey," she purred as she leaned in closer, "fun," her nose nuzzled against yours and her hot breaths mixed with your own. "Seems you're more than ready, so unless you want to object I'm going to kiss you.

"I-I," your voice trembled as your eyes watered and she lessened the pressure of her knee against your core, a sense of fear in her soul that she'd been too forward.

Wanda softly pressed, "What is it sweetheart?"

"I don't do one night stands," you squeaked out rather pitifully before finding some confidence. "I don't find anything wrong with the notion but it's not for me."

Wanda internally beamed, not only would you not have left that bar with a stranger tonight, but you were able to set a clear boundary; she not only respected it but she agreed with you. Wherever the night takes you two it would never be a once off for the brunette, who unbeknownst to you, was a total hopeless romantic.

Wanda responded softly, her tone free of pressure, "We don't have to sleep together Y/N, we can just lay down and get to know each other better if you aren't ready."

Her nose firmly pressed into yours as she continued, not leaving you a chance to reply before she laid it all out on the table. "I need you to know that as much as I crave you honey, it's not just your body, contrarily what I want most is for your heart to be mine."

With a confidence Wanda had yet to detect you gently pushed her back, initially her heart quivered at the thought of your incoming rejection, but it never came. Instead, you smiled a bit more bravely and pulled the outer layer you'd worn off to reveal just the one-piece.

"If you are being genuine, Wanda, then all I ask is that you take it slow please. I'm not the best at all of this..."

Wanda grinned, her hands quickly found purchase on your waist, unexpectedly rough thumbs ran over the bare skin and caused goosebumps to lay in their wake. Reminding you of the punk band she plays in with her brother and Clint on the weeknights at local bars. A small smile adorned your face, you began to get lost in the memory of the one time you watched them live.

Wanda tilted her head. "What did I lose you to, hm?"

You chuckled softly, "A memory of you performing."

"Oh," she sounded genuinely surprised, and that was because she never knew you'd gone to a show. A part of her was honestly embarrassed, but she covered it up with a tease, "If you were there, then why did I never see you amongst the groupies..." You rolled your eyes and she giggled, the follow up look in your blown out eyes told her she was taking too long to fuck you.

So the woman simply took a second to breathe in the moment, her head leaned back as she smiled broadly up at the ceiling from merely feeling you. "Wanda..."

Her soft, warm lips brushed over yours, cutting off your expected pleading, but she refrained from kissing you just yet. "Want mommy to take control detka?"

A deep, sensual chuckle sounded off the walls as you whimpered and pressed yourself into her. "Please."

The brunette slid her hands up, caressing your sides as her lips gently pecked your cheek, then they crossed over one another as she wrapped you in her embrace. Both of you stood there in silence, breaths mixing but neither of you moved to rid your life of the gap. Time stood still alongside you both until Wanda got her own nerves under control so that she could perform well.

"Is sex before a first date alright with you," she teased with inflection, but her eyes were genuinely inquisitive.

The silence paired with your adorable pout urged her to go on. With a heavy sigh, she did just that. "I ask, again, because once I kiss you Y/N, I don't know how quickly I will be able to stop myself. You just, you make me feel out of control detka, so just please be sure."

The look in her eyes was palpable, lust swirled and you felt a pulse of need between your thighs. You whined, "Mommy please," body too desperate for her attention for you to worry about the embarrassment anymore.

Wanda simply hummed, her thumbs gently dug into your skin and you obediently met her gentle gaze. You could see she wanted to, the way she gripped your hips even tighter a clear sign, but you could see that she needed more reassurance. "I trust you Wanda."

Wanda nods, smile soft as she finally broke the distance, her lips pressed to yours with an earnest need all while her hands returned to your hips so that she could aide you in getting off on her bare thigh. A part of your hazy mind still wondered when she had even removed her swimsuit cover, but the pleasure you felt from her choices left your mind incapable of thought.

The kiss was initially messy and awkward as the two of you got used to the shared affection, but once a rhythm had been set with her hands on your hips you were able to melt more easily into the lip lock. Your mind began to slip away, and the bubbling anxiety followed.

Eventually though, the pleasure became too much as Wanda swiftly slid your swimsuit to the side, the both of you groaned at the much more intimate feeling. It was suddenly tense, the brunette's lips had moved to kiss all over the skin you'd left exposed all the while her hands never stopped building you to your peak.

"Cum for mommy whenever you like," she purred, almost teasingly as she somehow knew you were close. Part of you wanted to feel embarrassed but you were too deep in pleasure to care that you looked desperate.

You came seconds after she left a mark on your neck, in the little juncture where it met with your shoulder. Wanda bit down harshly as she felt your delightful arousal ooze down her thigh, her own need now rising.

Wanda suddenly pulled away to catch the look of bliss on your face, internally cursing herself for nearly missing it; no way she'd waited all this time to see it just to miss it. Fortunately, she was just in time to watch your mouth fall open, and fuck if you weren't the most alluring beauty the woman had ever seen; a mess

The top of your suit had shifted down some as every time Wanda had roughly moved your body back the oak door would shift the elastic red fabric. A peak at your areoles had her mind positively spinning with the endless possibilities for the ways to have you.

The thoughts overwhelmed her while you slowly returned to a state of calm, your once tightly shut eyes fluttered open to catch sight of Wanda with her lip caught between her teeth as her eyes trailed over you.

You leaned in to kiss her slowly, it almost felt like a thank you and that made Wanda's heart swoon further. It lasted for a few seconds until you felt your lungs beg for the break they needed after your intense climax. In the moment of rest you decided to take a page from her book, and the first thing you did now that her body was nearly bare was to gawk at her perky breasts.

They sat so prettily in the cups of her bikini top and you just wanted to bury yourself in the shallow gap that lay between them. Wanda knowingly smirked, finding the look of awe on your face adorable; she was absolutely certain you'd be drooling on her in no time.

"You can touch me detka," she whispered, lips turned up as she met your eyes, "mommy doesn't mind..."

With a shaky hand you reached behind her, fingers gently laid against the clasp of her bra while your eyes searched hers once more for any hesitation. "Do it."

Her nude bra hit the floor, exposing her breasts to you, and just as you'd dreamed before they were perfect. It had always been your thought that all breasts were, no matter if they were lopsided, or small, nothing ever deterred your adoration for the warm, malleable tissue.

Wanda watched the way your tongue slowly licked over your bruised lips, you were hyper fixated on ogling her, but as her hand slid around your neck you realized she was just as desperate as you were to be touched. The worry you once felt melted away as you nuzzled your face against her breasts, lips grazing over the skin in a way that almost felt like teasing. But the woman knew you were just trying to admire the swell of her chest.

A soft sigh left her when you became more firm as your lips pressed into her heated skin. The brunette allowed you to blindly walk her backwards until she fell onto the bed, pulling your body right down with hers. You were lost somewhere in a haze as you suckled on her breasts, leaving behind marks without a thought to if she'd want that, but her moans quelled that rising fear.

Her back arched as soon as your tongue softly flicked over her pert nipple, there was hardly any hesitation as you swirled your tongue around her areola just before you pulled her nipple between your teeth and tugged. The way you suckled on her bud was almost feverish, a gentle laugh left her over a moan as she found your sudden wave of confidence to be a bit unexpected.

Unfortunately, that made you pull away with a crease between your raised brows. "Um, I-I'm sorry if I..."

Wanda replied by wordlessly pulling you back down, your face now hovering her other nipple, it had yet to receive the marvelous treatment and she desperately wanted you to touch her. "Detka, please continue..."

The woman found herself melting as you complied, her back slowly met with the mattress again as she fell into the comfort of your ministrations. Slowly, her hands began to glide over your bare sides, scratching at the skin as you built her arousal up to something painful.

The need to have you overweighed her desire for you to continue satisfying her. Cold hands soon slid beneath the elastic fabric overlaying your body, her nails slowly trailed faint lines over your skin until she finally cupped your breasts as you continued to suck on hers.

On instinct you ground your pelvis down into hers, a moan left you and reverberated around her nipple as you felt something hard rub against you. Again, you hadn't a clue when she had put a strap on, but in the lust of it all you didn't actually care much. Wanda smirked up at the ceiling at your shock, something you caught as you peered up at her from her chest.

"You know," she sighed rather amusedly, "I've dreamt of this moment for a while now and never once did you end up on the top of mommy like this kitten." You released her breast, ready to beg her to let you stay but instead you gasped as her hands groped your tits with precision, using the grip to flip you onto your back.

In a matter of seconds you regained your bearings and saw the consideration in her eyes as she played with the straps of your swimsuit. Wanda watched you gulp down your anxiety before giving her the go ahead, she wasted no time pushing her hands up and out of the top so that she could pull the offensive piece down.

"Holy shit," she chuckled, clearly a bit shocked as she found not only were your nipples pierced but so was your belly button. "My sweet girl is a secret deviant?"

"I was a rebellious teen," you quietly admitted.

"Nothing to be ashamed about kitten," she reassured you within an instant, she saw you internally prepared to shy away though so she shared her own experience with rebellion. "Actually, believe it or not but mommy was too; used to have her lips and nose pierced."

You believed it easily, she was in a punk band...

"I would've loved to see that," you dream aloud and the gorgeous brunette chuckled as she kissed her way up your body until her lips found a home against yours. "I'm sure Pietro will grace you with the evidence."

You cried out at the realization, "Oh god, Natasha..."

Wanda grimaced, pulling back to glare softly as her head tilted naturally. "No more screaming others names... Actually, how about no more talking at all." You were seconds away from combusting, an apology on the tip of your stuttering tongue. "I-I'm s—oh fuck."

Wanda had quickly shushed your apologies as her svelte fingers slid through your lips, collecting the slick warmth from within as she parted them. Her emeralds shone with pure accomplishment and joy as your eyes closed. "Mhm, mommy prefers those sweet moans."

"Tell me honey," Wanda broke her rule again as her wet fingers lifted up to her moving lips. Her thoughts effectively paused as she tasted you for the first time. Wanda moaned around her digits and sucked them clean before she found herself hovering over you. "Do you think you're wet enough for my cock baby? Or do you need mommy's fingers to stretch you out first?"

The crude question made your heart beat out of time, you felt ready for her strap but the idea of her fingers inside of you sounded so appealing. It was actually your attraction to her hands that told Wanda her crush was far from unrequited. You weren't slick with the way you stared at her during your ceramics elective.

Your mind had faltered too, so your thoughts faded. Her eyes dilated at the sound of your pathetic mewl as the tip of her thick strap nudged at your tight hole. Her fingers pressed the crimson cock to the side so that her fingers could enter you instead. The spit that remained helped to ease her in alongside your decadent slick.

Wanda had already decided for you, and it just so happened that she too had fantasized about just how good you'd feel around her fingers. However, in your mind it would have been at a faster pace, Wanda wanted to take her time and really get to feel you.

Her fingers kept a steady pace until your moans had calmed into occasional mewls, then she slid back in and scissored your walls further apart, a third finger entered you as her thumb began to circle your clit. You had gasped against her face and Wanda felt powerful.

"M-more please," you whimpered hoarsely into her ear, her fingers entered back inside you just as you pleaded further, "Mommy please, let me cum!!" Wanda curled her fingers into your greatest depths and you came with a loud cry as she grunted hotly in your ear.

Her fingers continued to sensually stroke and prod at that rough, yet tender spot within your greatest depths just so she could continue to hear your sweet gasps of a drawn out pleasure. The throb between her own legs was only intensified as you begged for her to stop but also keep going in the same breath as your hips canted.

Wanda whispered something in Sokovian, you'd never know but she was cursing you for being so hypnotizing. No one had ever made her this needy for a release, her hips followed yours so she ripped her fingers from your core. A satisfied hum garbled by her fingers sounded off above as she once again licked her fingers clean.

"I can't wait to taste you from the source kitten," she practically squealed and you found her giddiness to be so intimate with you endearing. Her lips pressed into yours and her velvet smooth tongue slid over yours without so much as a bit of resistance. You sloppily kissed the woman until her strap slid into you halfway.

There was a noticeable burn at the rapid stretch but you whined in disappointment when she pulled out.

To fuck you into the mattress was a dream, sure, but Wanda had other dreams for tonight's fun. "Mommy needs you to ride my cock, pretty girl..." Your eyes had widened but Wanda faced the fear for you by kissing you distracted as her hands flipped your positions.

You landed on top of her with a hmph, and a soft glare as the woman peered down with a smug grin. "I can take it Y/N, you aren't going to hurt me, so hop on."

A shuddered breath left you as you faced the concern head on, lifting your body to hover her raised strap. Wanda nodded and held onto your hip with her free hand as you slowly sunk down. Your walls clenched hard, preventing you from sliding down further so she lifted her now free hand up to stroke your lip on the way up to play with your throbbing bundle. The burn faded into white hot pleasure and soon you bounced; vigorously moving your hips and stealing the air from the woman beneath you's lungs as her clit felt the pleasure every time your bounces provided pressure.

A particular press of the hilt into her clit drew a moan you knew she'd tried to keep buried within her chest. It was so vulnerable and incredibly attractive, so much so that your walls fluttered rapidly around her strap.

"You're close," the brunette grunted with certainty as she began to rock her hips in time to meet your drops, desperate not only for her own release but to see you fall apart above her. "So am I baby, I just—fuck, play with your tits for mommy, please, we'll cum together."

"There you go," she encouraged with a sultry glint in her eyes as her hips unconsciously sped up, her eyes raptly focused in on the way you squished 'em together before moving to pinch your pierced, sensitive nubs.

A guttural moan left the woman when your work paid off, her orgasm sent tingles of pleasure down her spine in a perfect curve. The wave directly ended with the rise of her hips and the subsequent fall of yours. Your pleasure gushed on out of you and drenched Wanda as your upper body lurched forward and her face wound up buried between your breasts that heaved wildly.

There was a sense of satisfaction that charged the air on both of your ends, but it also felt unfinished as you laid on your back, with Wanda's smiling face gazing up at you from between your breasts, a parallel to your earlier, swapped position. "What's on your mind?"

"Am I that obvious," she teased, knowing damn well that her eyes were still desperate for you. Her lips kissed the sides of your breasts as she began her descent, "you know what's coming, so brace yourself."

Even with the clear warning you couldn't help but to moan like a whore and bury your fingers into her hair. Your puffy, overused lips were already so sensitive that the use of her mouth was never needed but she would be damned if she didn't use her tongue to please you.

Wanda preferred to live life on an even keel so she didn't stop when your essence coated her throat, nor when it dripped down her chin or when you pushed her head, desperate for reprieve. No, the carnal need to keep you cumming was enough to keep her munching until you came for the sixth time and yanked her away.

There was no remorse on her glistening face as she peered up at you with a scrunched nose and smiled. "Sorry sweetheart, but you are just so delectable." As expected, you did not reply as you were lost inside your scrambled mind. Wanda perched herself up on her knees and admired your body as it continually jolted. Her hands felt the way that the muscles in your thighs quivered beneath her fingertips from the overexertion.

You'd been fucked into a state near comatose so for now the brunette decided it best to lay beside one another as you recomposed. With an arm slid beneath your waist and her fingers tenderly walking down your body, starting from your face and ending on your hip where she'd swirl her finger into a few shapes before she traced her fingers all the way back to your face.

"Welcome back," she giggled when your eyes cleared as her fingers lightly tapped over your temple. Your eyes narrowed and you huffed softly as you burrowed close. Wanda chuckled as you loudly yawned against the side of her neck then kissed the skin as your lips met. You nudged her until she was flat on her back and suckled, you were tired but also determined to show her a good time. "Honey, we need to clean up and get some rest."

"Please mommy," you croaked sadly, "I want to taste you, just one lick then we can get cleaned up, please."

Fuck. Wanda realized that she couldn't say no to you when you looked so beautiful, eyes glistening under the  bright lights of the room with a post orgasmic glow. At the sight of her nod you kissed down her body happily, making sure to bite down on the bruising skin. Her grip on the base of your neck grew reciprocal as you chose to use pain to arouse her further. You already knew her body so well, it was the best feeling ever.

With a loophole in your mind you kiss her lips, soft enough to not collect much slick to constitute a taste but more than enough to make her cry out weakly. Wanda had about half a mind to rip you away for playing her so well but then your tongue stroked up and down her walls, you had found another cheat.

To you, a lick logically only ended when the stroke faltered but much to her shock it hadn't, not even once.  Though tired you powered through, plunging your muscle in and out of her without the intention to stop. Once her thighs slammed shut you moved your lips up to her clit and rejoiced as she drenched your chin.

"I'd say you very well know what you're doing," she huffed amusedly as she caught your gaze on her face.

"I'm not even sorry," you giggled as you trailed her slick all over her sweaty torso on your way to her lips. Wanda chuckled hoarsely, "Neither am I kitten."

After the both of you took a second to breathe you stared deeply into the others eyes, Wanda cupped your cheek and scrunched her nose as she, in true sapphic fashion, spoke her premature desires into the world. "Y/N, you are the most beautiful human I've ever had the fortune of knowing. I know we haven't spoken much but I want you to know I feel in my heart that you are the person I'm meant to fall in love with."

You gulped, "like soulmates? You think we are?"

Wanda nodded with a grin. "Most definitely, you are the only one who has ever been allowed to taste me."

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull and she laughed boisterously at your shock; you were so cute.

"Are you serious?" Wanda nodded with a much more nervous smile. "So, when you hesitated, it was—."

"I really did want you to rest," she interrupted, "but then I saw the dark look in your eyes. They were so droopy and yet you wanted to please me in return."

"Has no one ever tried?" Wanda bit her lip at the question, it felt intrusive but she knew you meant well so she didn't deflect. "Not really. Just once but it felt wrong. I didn't want them to have the access to me."

You beamed with a sweet shine in your eyes, then you kissed her lips with a tenderness that made her smile. "Thank you for trusting me, and taking such good—."

Wanda cut your praise off with a deeper kiss, you lazily swirled your tongue with hers until she was satisfied.

"Don't ever thank me for doing anything for you," she commanded gently, "you deserve to be worshipped."

"I think we're soulmates too," you finally affirmed her prior notion and she looked at you shocked. She had never intended for you to share a response so soon after her aggressively-launched inquiry. But you did, and it was obviously heartwarming. "You're safe."

Wanda tightened her arms around you and just basked in the after glow of her dream come true for a bit. Then, when she felt you were about to drift off she sprung into action while she left you to take a cat nap.

When she returned to the room she lightly stroked your face until your eyes fluttered open. "I know you're tired love but we need to get cleaned up, come on." In a sleepy haze you accepted her hand and let her do it all. There was no visual recollection but you felt her every light touch and heard the sweet nothings as she took her time cleaning you both up to let your muscles soak.

Eventually you two made it back to bed after sharing a water bottle and a container of fruit and nuts that Wanda had snuck to the kitchen to steal for you both. Now you two were perfectly wrapped up together.

Neither of you were too familiar with love, the both of you having spent most of your adult life single, but it's something you felt budding as you melted into her. The brunette was far too content to sleep, with you on her chest her wildest dream had come true, so she was afraid if her eyes took the risk that you'd be gone. Then she felt your soft breaths, and her own exhaustion rise, her extensive exertion caught up to her quickly. Eyes of green trailed over your form once more before closing.

"Oh god," Yelena's voice cracked as she spoke through the door. "I can smell the nefarious things you did."

Wanda rolled her eyes, there was nothing cruel about the way she just made love to your body, but of course the blonde would make your encounter devilish. For a moment Wanda just ignored her presence, pretending to be asleep but Yelena was just too damn intuitive.

"Wanda Maximoff," she sang tauntingly, "We know you are definitely not sleeping. You are probably too busy staring at Y/N with love-sick puppy dog eyes."

Wanda threw the alarm clock that neither of you would use at the door and groaned when all the blonde did was laugh maniacally "Exactly, you are so whipped."

Her voice was strained, "What do you want Belova?"

"Natasha said she doesn't care if you are mid-fuck, the both of you better get dressed and join the bonfire."

At just the mention of Natasha your head popped up, you glared intensely out the window, Wanda giggled.

"Does someone want revenge?" You groaned and put your face back in the safety of Wanda's neck. The way you grumbled incoherently against her skin only made her laugh harder, the sensation having tickled her.

Then the pressure changed, you were no longer talking but instead you were suckling on her skin, returning the favor of visibly marking her until she moaned.

"Okay," Yelena chuckled nervously, "I do not want to have to hear the sinning, take this visit as a warning."

You rolled your eyes this time, knowing the truth to her words which made you pull away. Wanda could see the reluctance in your expression and it made her melt. To see you were eager for a round two focused on her was enough to make her want to ignore Natasha's threats.

It was never up to her though as you got up, Russian curses directed at redhead nothing short of amusing. Even though you presented as grumpy, the woman knew deep down that the meddling Russian sisters were the closest thing to family that you had. So, you rushing to get dressed wasn't in fear of the redheads daunting arrival, but more so you wanting to see her.

To thank her for the push, which you did moments later after the both of you arrived. You led Wanda to a chair big enough for two and left the brunette with a timid kiss, aware that all your friends were there. Tony went to tease you but was stopped by Wanda's glare.

"I'd rather watch this anyway," he chuckled as he turned away from your terrifying girlfriend. Wanda followed his gaze and couldn't help but to laugh, you were chasing Nat around the rough sand on wobbly legs, which only spurred her taunting on tenfold.

Once you caught up to her you tackled the redhead, nobody could hear you two anymore, but they could see you were mercilessly tickling the woman. After a torturous minute she called uncle and you both stood, her hand shook yours in a truce that relaxed you, but then she smirked and leaned in closer to taunt you.

"You're welcome for the fun," her eyes were swirling with mischief as they fell to the side of your neck. "Who knew the group's favorite nun in training had it in her."

"Bite me," you shot back and her eyes sparkled at the ease of her next tease, "Looks like Wanda already did."

Natasha cackled the whole way back to the group as she jogged to her seat to escape your next attack. It wasn't going to deter you though, sand flew from beneath your feet as you neared the group in a rush.

Two seconds before you could reach her though you felt your body being yanked down by what you believed to be gravity, but then you felt softness beneath you.

Wanda had shamelessly pulled you into her lap, she was sat with her legs crossed, and her eyes bore a playfulness to them alongside a bit of sternness. The entire group watched the way you settled, no words needed to be exchanged as you cuddled into her side. The brunette kissed your forehead, then followed it up with a peck to your nose and a languid one to your lips.

"Wow! The beast has been tamed," Tony cheered, the group of your friends giggled loudly and you frowned.

"Careful how you speak of my girl Tony," Wanda said with a tone that dripped with a warning, her eyes not even moving away from yours as she defended you. The sexual energy that oozed off the the two of you was always there, but the visible marks had never been.

Tony sighed at the direct confirmation, "I vote we remove them from the bet," drawing the both of your attention back to your friends who were anxiously sat.

Your tone was clearly confused, "The bet?"

"Catch up kid," the billionaire shot at you, you were just about to remind him you were older but he just continued on being a douchebag, "It was no secret you and the practicing witch would bone this trip. So, as opportunists we all bet on what night it might happen."

You looked to your family with a glare, "Nat? Lena?"

The sisters shrugged while their outstretched hands were collecting the hundreds. "It was an inevitability Y/N Y/L/N, so we obviously made it profitable."

You flipped the blonde off, then the redhead next. The bulk of your friends chuckled when they saw you try to shy away from their gaze by burrowing into Wanda. Everyone was more than thrilled to see you smile like that, all soft and obviously lovestruck for the woman and the brunette adored that you found comfort in her.

"It's okay detka," Wanda coo'd lovingly into your ear, with one hand on your back to soothe you while the other reached out to accept her cut of the bet money. "I'm sure our friends here will pay for our date..."

Tony gasped, but his rebuttal died on his tongue as your smirking girlfriend tilted her head a fraction to the right, her fingers wiggled and the man would swear for years to come he saw a flash of red spark at the tips.

Wanda smirked at the man before her lips fell into something softer as she regarded your sleeping form. Her gaze slowly drifted up to the pair of sisters to her right who stared at her intently. Natasha smiled at her, and in that moment they came to a silent agreement. All your sister by claim wanted was for you to be happy and taken care of, something Wanda promised with a nod. Natasha easily fell back into conversation after.

Yelena however had a much different approach as she glared at the brunette with all the contempt she had within. "Prichini yey bol', i ty umresh', muchitel'no."

(Hurt her and you die, painfully.)

This time, Natasha didn't jab her sister in the hip and Wanda didn't test her chances, she merely nodded.

——

The following morning came with disorientation on your end as you woke up to the sound of a muted buzz. Your mind was still lightyears behind your ears though so you subconsciously thought it was the yardmen on your campus as per usual. Then you felt a body pressed into your sore one and you remembered. You were halfway across the world, entangled with your crush.

It wasn't a fever dream but a glorious reality...

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to see Wanda asleep, with her lips pursed and nose pressed into your chest, the noise from before now had an official source. You wanted to giggle at her, but you merely rolled your eyes and softly cursed your best friend. "Chertov lzhets."

(Fucking liar...)