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velarisdusk · 4 months ago

Text

Burning Desire

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Series Masterlist Part 4 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 6 - Embers to Ice

word count: 17k (AAAAA?) content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, BDSM, power dynamics, bondage, gags, sensory deprivation, pain play, spanking, paddling, flogging, begging, degradation, praise | infidelity, emotional infidelity, explicit language, alcohol, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, marijuana), bitches are fake as fuck, bad rebound choices, i.e. casually fucking someone who you KNOW has had an actual crush on you for years and not caring, the Vanserra family is a loving one in this he deserves happiness ] summary: In a depression following being caught cheating, a troubling phone call brings a harsh revelation. Distraught and in need of comfort, you turn to Eris, who's been trying to reach out since that night. He provides the emotional and physical escape you need. author's note: oh. my. god. i've been working on this for what feels like a decade i feel like years have been taken off of my life. school has been killer (negative), writing this was killer (positive), and i hope you enjoy >:)

It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks of rotting in bed, drowning in self-pity, and starting your days with cigarettes and bottles of rum. Over a week ago, you threw your phone into the drawer of your nightstand, barely resisting the urge to post a pity-filled story for your close friends. Before you essentially vanished, you noticed texts from Feyre and Mor. That was nothing out of the ordinary, but you didn't read them, dreading their content. Were they upset? Angry? What did they think of you? Were the messages even about the situation? You couldn't say if they knew or not.

You also received messages from Az, Eris, and Tarquin. Their concern surprised you, figuring that bro code would have outranked you on the list of priorities. But then, were they even still talking? If you were Cassian, you’d probably cut off all communication.

It was a complicated situation. They all worked together and had for years. They couldn’t just walk away; they were bound by contracts. You wondered how practice was faring if it was even happening. By now, they must have realized that Cassian wasn’t speaking to you. Whether they kept things private or shared the news with Feyre, Mor, or anyone else, you had no idea. You hoped they had the sense not to all come downstairs at once after your departure with Cassian. But even if they were careful, it must have been noticeable when they started reappearing suddenly.

Two weeks of these thoughts hurtling through your mind.

You haven’t told your mother why you showed up disheveled at her door in the night. How could you? You couldn’t bear to face her after admitting what you’ve done.

But as the hours stretch endlessly, a surge of loneliness (only the latest of many) finally drives you to your phone. You respond to the texts from Azriel and Tarquin, reassuring them that you’re as fine as you can be. When you open the text thread with Eris, you’re caught off guard.

Hey, just checking in. How are you holding up?

If you need someone to talk to I’m around. Seriously.

Look, I get that it might seem weird coming from me, but I’m genuinely concerned. No strings, I just want to make sure you’re okay.

I’m not trying to pry, but isolation doesn’t help. If you need a break from everything, my line’s always open.

You sit there, staring at the string of messages, each one making you feel a little more seen, a little more cared for. You aren’t even sure you want to acknowledge that right now. It’s almost too much, the kindness wrapped in Eris’ words, especially when everything else feels like it’s crumbling around you.

But Eris’ texts… they’re a lifeline, a small thread of connection in a sea of isolation. You pick up your phone again, reading through the messages once more, feeling the sincerity behind them. The idea of responding, of reaching out, is both comforting and terrifying. But the thought of facing all of this alone, of letting it continue to eat away at you in silence, is somehow worse.

Your fingers start to move, typing out a response before you can second-guess yourself.

you’re not prying, thanks for checking in. captain morgan’s been keeping me company lmfao

No sooner do you turn your phone off and toss it onto the bed beside you does the screen light up again with a buzz. That was fast.

Sounds like he’s good company, but maybe not the best listener. How about a real conversation instead?

You can almost hear the playful tone in his words, a lightness that cuts through the heavy fog of your thoughts. It’s enough to make you smile, just a little, even as the weight of everything else still hangs over you.

Another buzz and his next message appears.

Seriously, if you want to talk, my door’s open. No pressure, just an offer.

You can tell he’s trying to strike a balance, not pushing it too hard but still getting through your head that he’s there. It’s disarming in a way, and it leaves you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you should take him up on that offer.

thanks eris, i might take you up on that. it’s just… a lot rn, yknow?

There’s a pause, the seconds ticking by as you wait for his reply. You don’t have to wait long, and it’s as straightforward a reply as you expected.

I get it. You didn’t make the mess alone, just wanted you to know you don’t have to deal with it alone. And if you want to get out of your place for a bit, my offer still stands. You can even invite the captain as your plus one if that helps.

You smile at that, a small huff of amusement escaping you. The thought of getting out of your old childhood bedroom, of not being surrounded by the same four walls that have seen you at your lowest, is more appealing than you’d like to admit. Maybe a change of scenery, and the chance to talk things out with someone, would help.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think about how to respond. Part of you wants to dive in and take him up on the offer right away, but another part of you hesitates, unsure how it would look if Cassian found out. You decide to keep things simple. You don’t respond.

Without paying any mind to the countless social media, text, and call notifications from your other friends, you open your texts with Nesta and make a FaceTime call. The thought of her blunt honesty is a small comfort in your otherwise bleak current existence.

Her face appears on the screen, and though her expression is one of surprise and concern, you can’t help but feel a twinge of relief.

“Where’ve you been? You look…”

She trails off, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your appearance. You glance at yourself in the small window at the top corner of the screen. Your eyes are puffy and red, your face is pale, and the bags under your eyes seem darker than ever.

“Talk to me,” Nesta says, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to cut through the fog of your despair.

You draw a deep breath, the weight of your emotions pressing heavily on your chest. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I’m a fucking mess.”

Nesta’s gaze softens further, her concern palpable. She leans in slightly, her tone soothing yet resolute. “You can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m here.”

The hesitation is palpable as you search for the right words, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. Finally, you find the courage to confess. “I messed up, Nesta. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Nesta’s expression tightens, her eyes flicking to something off-screen for a moment before she returns her focus to you. She runs a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips as she gathers her thoughts. “Just... try to explain what happened.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before asking, “Do you know what’s been going on?”

Nesta’s gaze momentarily shifts away, a flicker of something you can’t quite read passing over her face. “I’ve heard bits and pieces,” she begins, her tone deliberately vague. “But I’d rather hear it from you.”

Sensing her evasiveness, you decide to give her a broad overview. You explain the guilt and confusion you're feeling, how everything seemed to unravel and make the situation worse than you could have imagined. You describe the betrayal and the weight of not knowing how to mend things. By the time you’ve caught her up, your words are coming out through hysterical cries and gasps for air between sobs.

Nesta listens quietly, absorbing the emotional weight of your words. Her expression reflects a mix of sympathy and contemplation as she processes the gravity of what you’ve shared.

“I broke that boundary to hell, Nesta. I ruined everything.” Your voice trembles with the weight of your confession, the words feeling like a leaden anchor pulling you down.

Nesta’s brows knit together, her concern deepening as she tilts her head slightly. “What boundary…?” she asks, her tone gentle yet probing, as if trying to piece together the fragments of your unraveling story.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath, but a sniffle escapes you. “They’ve all been pretty flirty with me since the beginning, and Cassian and I… we decided early on that we didn’t mind it?” You pause, glancing down at your hands as you fidget with the red scrunchie around your wrist, twisting the fabric between your fingers. “So we’d just let them like… make comments… touch up on me a little–”

A sudden, sharp gasp crackles through the phone speaker, cutting through your words like a knife. Your eyes narrow as you stare at the screen in confusion. That sound hadn’t come from Nesta; you’d been watching her intently this whole time, and her lips hadn’t moved.

You furrow your brows, your heart quickening with unease. “What was that? Is there someone there with you?” you ask, trying to keep the edge of suspicion out of your voice, but failing.

But her face is the image of calm, save for the confusion in her furrowed brows. “Huh? Oh, it was just the TV,” she says, quickly flipping her phone around to show you the screen. The shaky camera reveals a reality show playing in the background, the exaggerated drama of strangers’ lives filling the awkward silence.

But your gut tells you something’s off. The way her hand shook just a little as she moved the phone, the tension still lingering in her posture. It all feels wrong. Despite her attempt to brush it off, the seed of doubt has been planted, taking root in the back of your mind.

Nesta flips the phone back to face her, and her voice is smooth and encouraging as she speaks. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?”

You hesitate, letting out a sigh as you rub your temple. “I don’t know. I’m scared of what he’ll say, or worse... what he won’t say. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of rejection, Nesta.”

She nods slowly, her expression softening into one of understanding. “You have to do what feels right for you, but running away won’t make it any easier in the long run. I know it’s—and I’m sorry to say this—your fault, but you still deserve to know where things stand, even if it’s hard to face.”

You shift uncomfortably, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “I know, I just... I need time to think. To figure out what I want, what I’ll do.”

Nesta listens patiently, offering her quiet support as you continue to spill your thoughts. The conversation drifts from your immediate fears to the what-ifs. She shares some of her own experiences, her voice a mix of tough love and genuine care, giving you just enough space to feel heard without feeling judged.

The minutes tick by, and soon you find yourself leaning back into the pillows, the exhaustion creeping in. You talk about other things too, and an hour passes before you even realize it, the conversation winding down naturally, both of you running out of things to say. It’s a comfortable silence now, a brief respite from the storm of emotions you’ve been weathering.

“I should let you go,” you finally say, your voice soft. “Thanks for listening, Nes. I... I needed this.”

Nesta smiles, a touch of warmth breaking through her usual stoic demeanor. “Anytime. You know I’m here for you.”

You nod, feeling a little lighter, if only for a moment. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

As you move to end the call, you hear it—faint, but unmistakable. A voice, muffled but clear enough to make out the words: “No way–”

Your heart skips a beat, but before you can react, the call disconnects, leaving you staring at the screen, that single phrase echoing in your mind. The voice wasn’t Nesta’s, and it sure as hell didn’t come from the TV. You know that voice. It’s familiar in a way that makes your stomach churn, your pulse quicken. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks, a cold wave of dread washing over you.

It was Elain’s. You’re sure of it. You sit there for a moment, phone still in hand, your mind racing. But why would she be there hidden from view? Why wouldn’t she just say hello or at least make her presence known? The questions tumble over each other, forming a gnawing pit of unease in your gut.

Then, like pieces of a puzzle snapping together, the thought hits you: Elain was listening in, but she didn’t want you to know she was there. The secrecy, the way Nesta quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t just about eavesdropping. No, it felt intentional, like Elain was trying to gain insight into your situation with Cassian. Your breath catches in your throat as the implications sink in. A cold, hard truth begins to crystallize in your mind. She wanted to know the details because it mattered to her. It mattered because she’s involved—because she and Cassian are…

You don’t want to finish the thought, but it’s there, undeniable and ugly. Elain and Cassian. It explains the secrecy, the way Nesta tried to protect her, and the sickening feeling gnawing at your insides.

The weight of it is almost unbearable, pressing down on you as you sit there, phone in hand, processing the cruel truth that’s just come to light. Elain and Cassian. How? Why? You never saw any sign in their interactions before. The bitterness of the revelation is a sharp, relentless edge in your chest — you need to do something, anything, to shake off this feeling.

You push yourself up from the bed with a determined resolve, your mind racing with anger and the need to reclaim some sense of control. First things first: you need to wash off the remnants of the last two weeks, the sweat and guilt that cling to you.

The hot water of the shower is a welcome relief against your skin, and you let the steam envelop you, trying to wash away the emotions churning inside. You lather up, scrubbing away the sweat and liquor and cigarette smoke, letting the water run over you until you feel clean, both physically and mentally. You stand under the spray, letting the water cascade down your body as if it could cleanse the memories away. When you’re done, you run a comb through your hair, detangling the wet strands with care before blow-drying and styling it, every strand perfectly in place and your arms sore by the time you’re done.

You reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the screen as you debate your next move. Finally, with a deep breath, you type out a message to Eris:

you still up for company?

It’s simple, to the point, and carries the weight of everything you’re feeling right now. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but you hit send before you can overthink it, nerves and anticipation bubbling in your chest. As you wait for his reply, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in the freshly styled hair, and the clean skin. You look entirely different than you did this morning. You’re someone in control, someone who knows what she wants. Your phone buzzes.

Absolutely. I’ll swing by and pick you up.

You weren’t expecting that, but you don’t hesitate before replying with the address. His response is swift.

See you in 15.

Your eyes linger on the screen, absorbing his words as you double-tap and leave a heart his message. Something is grounding about the certainty in his response. No hesitation, no questions, just action. You set your phone down and take one last look in the mirror, a quiet determination settling in your chest. He’ll be here soon, and you have just enough time to get dressed.

You see Eris pulling up through your window, the white Jaguar rolling to a stop, and you take a deep breath before heading toward the door. As you walk down the driveway towards him, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the car’s window. Jean shorts and a hand-cropped t-shirt—casual and understated.

Eris’s eyes meet yours as you approach the car, his expression softening with concern. There’s no sign of the smirk you usually see on his face. Just a steady gaze that feels sincere. He leans over the center console and opens the door for you, a simple gesture, but one that makes your heart feel lighter.

As you settle into the passenger seat, you set your tote bag down in the footwell. It holds a mostly full bottle of Captain Morgan, a pack of Newports, some gum, and a lighter you grabbed on your way out.

Eris’s eyes flick to the neck of the bottle sticking out of the bag before he asks, “Bringing the party with you?”

You shrug, offering a faint smile. “You did say I was allowed a plus one.”

He nods, his tone softening. “That I did... You okay?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.

You glance at him, a bit surprised at the shift from teasing to concern. “Not really,” you admit quietly.

Eris gives a small nod, his eyes still on the road. “Could’ve guessed the answer, huh?” he remarks, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

You offer a wry smile and a quiet “yeah.” You glance out the window as the sunlight reflects off passing buildings. “But I figured getting out of the house might not hurt. What were you thinking of doing?”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road. “I can swing by somewhere if you need to grab something or,” he pauses, a sly grin forming. “Or if you’re up for unwinding a bit…”

You raise an eyebrow, catching the playful glint in his eye. “What are you suggesting?”

He shrugs, one hand gripping the steering wheel casually. “We could stop by my plug’s place and pick something up, if you’re looking to take the edge off. He’s got some good shit.”

You lean back in your seat, considering his offer. The idea of numbing your mind with something other than liquor is very tempting. You glance at Eris, his casual demeanor giving nothing away, but you can sense that beneath the surface, he’s paying close attention to your reaction.

You nod, feeling a sense of resolve settling in. “Let’s do it. I could use a change of pace.”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road, but there’s a flicker of approval in them. “Alright, then,” he says with a grin, shifting lanes smoothly as he changes direction. His hands move with practiced ease, one gripping the steering wheel and the other shifting gears with effortless precision. You glance up from your phone just in time to see him reach into the center console. He pulls out a sleek pack of Dunhills, taps one out, and lights it with a quick flick of his lighter.

The cigarette sits casually between his lips, its ember glowing softly as its smoke curls lazily around him. “Want a cig?” he asks, his tone casual as he cracks his window.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, reaching out for the cigarette sticking out of the pack. Eris passes it to you with a small knowing smile, his eyes flicking briefly to meet yours before returning to the road and lowering your window for you. You take a drag, the smoke filling your lungs and momentarily dulling the edges of your lingering unease. It’s quite the difference from the menthol kick of your usual Newports. The flavor is richer, with a deep, earthy undertone that’s almost woody. It feels more refined, less about the immediate hit, and more about a lingering, sophisticated aftertaste. You exhale, the smoke curling in the air, and the taste leaves a warmth that’s oddly comforting.

“Helps, doesn’t it?” he glances at you, a touch of curiosity in his gaze.

You exhale slowly, watching the smoke get pulled out the window. “A little… Thanks,” you say, and you both know it isn’t just for the cigarette.

Eris nods, his grin widening slightly. “Anytime. We’ve got a bit of a drive, so just get comfortable. We’ll hit the place soon.”

You settle back as Eris merges onto the highway. The sun is high, casting a warm light over the passing scenery. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the classic rock on the radio make for a relaxing ride. You gaze out the window, watching the landscape shift as the car speeds along. After finishing your cigarette, you hold onto the butt, not willing to litter. Eris is focused on the road, so you just hold onto it, unsure what else to do.

A few minutes later, Eris chuckles and glances over, eyebrow raised. “Were you going to hold onto it the whole ride? Come on, you can’t be serious.”

You give a small laugh, shaking your head. “Well, I wasn’t going to throw it out the window.”

Eris smirks, his eyes flicking to the cigarette butt in your hand. “Just give it to me.”

He reaches over, fingers brushing against your wrist as he tries to take it from you. But you’re quicker, pulling your hand away with a playful glare. “No!” you protest, holding the butt out of his reach. “You’re gonna throw it out the window!”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, making another grab for it. “I won’t, I promise.” And for some reason, you believe him.

He takes the cigarette butt from your fingers and, with a practiced motion, opens the center console and undoes the locking mechanism on a glass jar. He drops it in, the jar already filled with likely a pack’s worth. The jar seals with a soft click, likely why you hadn’t noticed any lingering smell before. He shuts the jar and console, his attention never wavering from the road.

The smell-proof jar, not even considering littering, doing it all while keeping his eyes on the road—it’s the kind of thing that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

The drive stretches on with the radio playing softly in the background. You watch the scenery blur past as the car weaves effortlessly through traffic. With the windows still cracked, you catch a glimpse of Eris’s auburn hair tousled by the breeze. The sun casts long shadows across the highway, and you find a strange comfort in the steady rhythm of the drive. Eventually, Eris slows the car, steering off the main road and into a sleek, gated driveway. The place is an upscale, modern mansion with neatly trimmed hedges. Not what you expected. He parks near the entrance and turns to you with a casual smile.

“I’ll leave the car running,” he says. “Lock up, I’ll be quick.”

You nod, watching as he gets out and heads toward the front door. The gate closes behind him with a gentle click, leaving you alone in the plush interior of the car. After a few minutes, Eris reappears with a small, discreet bag in his pocket. He slips back into the driver’s seat, the bag placed neatly into the center console.

The car pulls out of the driveway, and Eris’s eyes flick toward you as he navigates the streets with practiced ease.

“Any special spots in mind, or are you up for anywhere?” he asks, the hint of a grin in his voice.

You shrug, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, yours is fine.”

He gives a teasing scoff, putting a hand on his chest as he speaks. “My place is special, (y/n), you wound me.”

His words pull a genuine laugh from you. It really wasn’t that funny, but hearing your name on his tongue so casually stirs a nervous flutter in your chest.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Besides the view, or the pool, or the game room?” he pauses for dramatic effect, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Yours, truly.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what makes you so special?”

Eris lets out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking to you before returning to the road. “Well, I’ve been told I’ve got a talent for making things unforgettable.”

“Someone’s got a massive ego.”

He grins, his eyes glinting with confidence. “Guilty as charged. You like it though.”

You roll your eyes at that, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto your face any longer. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ah, you didn’t deny it. I’ll take it.”

“You’re impossible,” you laugh softly, shaking your head.

As the highway fades into the background, the road before you begins to wind through lush greenery. The towering trees start to crowd in, their canopies forming a dappled, sunlit tunnel. Fields of wildflowers stretch out on either side. The road curves gently, revealing glimpses of a large, elegant house nestled among the trees, its silhouette framed by the tranquil lake shimmering in the late afternoon light.

When you step inside, the first thing you notice is how effortlessly cool the place feels—like it’s been designed with a blend of sophistication and laid-back charm. The living room is spacious and airy, with large windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors. The furniture is a mix of sleek modern pieces and cozy, oversized cushions that invite you to sink in and relax.

Eris heads over to a low cabinet and retrieves a small grinder and some neatly rolled-up papers from a hidden drawer. He moves with casual confidence, clearly in his element. You couldn’t help but wonder how many women he’d invited here for a smoke before you, having to remind yourself that this wasn’t that. You’re here as a friend who needs an attentive ear.

“So,” he says, flashing a grin as he begins grinding the weed, “what do you think of the place?”

You settle into the sofa, taking in the room’s ambiance. The walls are adorned with tasteful art, and the scent of cedarwood and something subtly herbal fills the air. It’s inviting.

“Not bad, huh?” Eris continues, leaning against the cabinet and looking down at the papers in his hand.

You chuckle, glancing around. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

His eyes dart up to meet yours, a playful, mock-surprised smile on his face. “Crazy…” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Oh come on, you know it’s a nice place. I'm not gonna shower you with more compliments than you need.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he sits on the couch, starting on the joint. The sound of the grinder and the rustle of the papers are the background to your conversation. “Fair enough. But before we get too cozy with this,” he nods toward his work, “let’s talk. I’d rather hear how you’re really doing.”

You hesitate, feeling a bit vulnerable all of a sudden. “I don’t know if I can get through it all sober.”

Eris looks at you with a soft, reassuring smile, his fingers pausing briefly as they work the paper. “Just try.”

For a moment, you’re silent, the sound of the grinder filling the space between you. You look around the room, at the art on the walls, the low light casting a warm glow over everything. It’s easier to focus on that than on the storm inside your head.

But then you find his gaze again, and the quiet concern in his eyes makes something inside you crack, just a little. "It’s just… everything’s been so overwhelming lately," you begin, your voice soft. "I keep making these choices that… I don't know how to explain it… I’m digging myself into a deep, deep hole. And I don’t know how to get out." You hesitate as you try to find the right words. “It’s just… I don’t even know why I let it happen. I mean, I love Cassian, he’s everything to me. But every time I’m with you,” the words catch in your throat, and you quickly clarify, “with all of you, I mean… I feel like I’m losing myself, like I’m just drifting through all of it without thinking. It’s like I’m not even in control anymore.”

Your voice trembles as the floodgates open, the words spilling out faster than you can stop them. “And the guilt… it’s eating me alive. Every time I’d see Cassian, it was like I was drowning in it. When we went to sleep at night, when he’d kiss me, when we cooked dinner, when he’d tell me he loves me and I said it back with a straight face, knowing what I’ve done… I keep asking myself why I did it, why I kept doing it, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know if I’m looking for one or if I’m just trying to justify something that can’t be justified.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of it all is too much. “I thought I could handle it, that I could keep everything separate, but it’s all tangled up now. I’m tangled up. And I don’t know how to fix it, or if I even can.” You pause, swallowing hard as you try to gather your thoughts. Focusing on how methodically he rolls the joint is the only way you can keep from crying. “The past couple of weeks have been a nightmare,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “Every day feels like I’m just… going through the motions. I wake up, and for a split second, everything’s fine. But then it all comes crashing back, and I remember what I’ve done. It’s like this constant weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”

There’s a heavy silence as you finish, the room feeling almost too quiet. You glance at Eris, the exhaustion in your eyes reflecting your need for a break from the emotional turmoil. “I can’t keep talking about this right now,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “I just need to… I don’t know.”

Eris nods, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah, I got you,” He stands up, moving with a relaxed confidence, and heads towards the kitchen. You watch him, feeling a small flicker of relief at the prospect of a distraction. He returns with two glasses of ice, setting them down on the coffee table before lighting the joint and pointing towards your bag for the rum. When you reach to pour the drinks, he gently takes the bottle from you, pouring them himself.

You take the glass when he offers it, the alcohol warming your insides and helping to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts. Eris hands you the joint, a small, encouraging smile on his lips. “Here’s to a temporary escape,” he says, his tone lighter now.

You take a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and the effects of the alcohol and weed start to mingle in your system. The combination is soothing, and you feel the tension begin to ease. As the minutes pass, you can feel the fog of intoxication settling in, and your thoughts become less jagged.

A while later, the room is darker now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the lamp on the side table. The drinks are empty and the bottle of rum you brought stands proudly, and emptily, in the center of the table. The joint is long finished, and the conversation has shifted from heavy to light. You and Eris are more relaxed on the couch, and the air is filled with more classic rock, the remnants of laughter, and the gentle hum of your voices.

You lean back, feeling pleasantly buzzed, the haze of the alcohol and weed wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth. Eris is sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours, his hand resting casually on the cushion next to you. The shared warmth and comfortable silence between you feel natural.

“You know,” you say, your voice slightly slurred but lighthearted, “I didn’t think I’d find myself here tonight, like this. But... I’m glad I did.”

Eris glances over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Sometimes the unexpected turns out to be the best part of the night.”

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the music playing in the background. “Yeah, it’s funny how things work out. I definitely needed this more than I realized.”

He nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “It’s good to let go now and then. Just don’t forget there’s still shit to unpack when you’re ready.”

You let out a deep sigh, your gaze drifting around the dimly lit room. There’s a moment of hesitation as the weight of your earlier conversation looms on the edge of your thoughts. The alcohol and weed have softened the edges, but the heaviness is still there.

Eris shifts slightly, his hand moving a bit closer in the process. Whether it was intentional or not, you don’t know. “You know,” he says gently, “it’s not every day you find someone willing to listen without judgment. You should take advantage of that.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the pressure build behind your eyes. “Cassian… he’s been nothing but loving, nothing but kind to me. And it kills me, Eris. It kills me to look at him and know that I’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way. Multiple times.” You feel the lump in your throat as you continue, the warmth of the alcohol making it easier to let your words flow. “I keep trying to think of ways to fix it, to find some sort of answer or way to redeem myself. But...” Your eyes search the dim room as if trying to find some clarity in the shadows.

“I keep going over every moment, every decision, wondering where things went so fucking wrong. It’s like replaying a movie where I know the ending is tragic, but I can’t look away. I did this shit to myself…

“The hardest part is that he saw everything. He didn’t even need me to confess; he saw it with his own eyes. And everytime I replay that night, I think about how coldly he looked at me. He’s never looked at me like that before. Not that I don’t deserve it.” You glance at Eris, the weight of your emotions clear in your eyes. “I’m trapped in this cycle of guilt and regret, and it’s suffocating. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore—whether it’s forgiveness, understanding, or just a way to get rid of all this guilt. The thought of facing Cass again… God, I can’t…”

Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he takes it all in, draping an arm across the back of the couch. You aren’t quite close enough for it to wrap around you.

You mentally chastise yourself for wishing you were. Thinking like that is what got you into this mess.

His voice is low but steady when he speaks. “You’re human. You made choices. Bad ones, sure, but it doesn’t make you a monster.” He pauses, his gaze intense. “It’s easy to get lost in guilt. But you’re not doing anyone any favors by going MIA. Especially not Cassian.”

You scoff. “Cass doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“How are you so sure?” he asks, his fingers drumming lightly against the couch, the rhythm steady and patient, unlike the chaos unleashed in your mind by the simple question.

The Facetime with Nesta shoves itself to the forefront of your mind as if your subconscious has been holding it back all this time. You’d heard Elain’s voice in the background, imagined her laughter mingling with Cassian’s, imagined him sharing her breath, his tongue deep in—

The thought hit you like a sucker punch, just as the air had been knocked out of your lungs the moment you’d put the pieces together.

“I’m pretty sure Cassian is fucking Elain,” you blurt out, your voice shaking with the weight of the confession.

Eris’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen. “Why do you think that?” he asks calmly, though there’s a new edge to his voice.

You swallow hard, the memory still raw. “When I was on a call with Nesta, I heard Elain in the background. She was trying to listen in on me ranting about this all to Nesta… She didn’t even say hi to me, didn’t let me know she was there. Why would she do that unless she was hiding something?”

Eris raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but curious. “You might be reading too much into this,” he says, but the sharpness of your gaze makes him backtrack quickly. “Alright, alright, I didn’t mean it like that. Just… how are you so sure they’re involved?”

You exhale sharply, frustration evident. “Cassian is incredibly vindictive in bed,” you say, thinking back to all the times he’d gone hard on you just for catching you making eyes at one of the guys. “I’ve been through his friends, I’d be more shocked if he didn’t try to go through mine.”

Eris’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Most of his friends.” He doesn’t elaborate but the implication is clear. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it’s not always best to assume the worst.”

A fleeting thought crosses your mind. Eris is right. You and he never crossed that line, despite the heated moments over the years, despite the events the night of Ianthe’s party. If Cassian is dropping you off on your mom’s doorstep just to go after your friends, maybe it’s time for you to stop moping around and start embracing some fun yourself. Why should you sit at home and stew when he’s out there doing who knows what? Who knows who? For all you knew, Nesta had fucked him too. And, honestly, Eris doesn’t look half bad in that black, fitted t-shirt and tailored jeans, the thin silver chain around his neck glinting in the low light. There’s a roguish charm about him, just as there’s always been. It’s something that makes him undeniably tempting.

You look down at your lap with a sigh, a feigned sadness in your eyes, and a playful pout on your lips. “Well, if Cassian’s going to do whatever he wants, maybe I should too.” You look up, letting your gaze linger on him, lowering to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

Eris’s eyes flicker with surprise, but he maintains his cool as he raises a brow. “Is this where we’re headed now? I thought we were in the middle of something a bit more serious.”

You scoot closer to him, close enough for the hand on the back of the couch to rest on your shoulder if he wanted it to. “Maybe I’m tired of pitying myself. Or maybe I’m feeling adventurous.” A glint of mischief sparkles in your eyes before you slip back into your act.

Eris chuckles, a faint smile curling his lips. “A distraction, huh? You know that won’t fix anything.”

You shrug, maintaining your demeanor. “Who says it has to be about fixing anything? Sometimes a little distraction is just what you need,” you level. Tired of the theatrics, you scoot even closer and grab that god-forsaken hand, placing it gently on the back of your neck.

Eris’s fingers linger there, his expression shifting from playful to intrigued before he traces soft patterns on your skin. “Is that right? And here I thought you were just looking for a friendly ear.”

You lean closer, your voice dropping to a softer, more flirtatious tone. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have any other intentions? Not a single fleeting thought?”

Eris’s gaze drops to your lips, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. “So, what are you suggesting? Are we breaking some rules tonight?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, something like that. A night of enjoyment. No strings attached, just...”

Your words trail off as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a slow, heated kiss. His hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. It starts slow, almost exploratory, but quickly deepens as you both lose yourselves in the moment. The taste of liquor lingers on his tongue, a heady mix of rum and something uniquely Eris. You savor it, letting the alcohol-infused warmth of the kiss sweep over you. Your lips move against his with increasing urgency, and you gently tug at his lower lip, pulling him closer.

Eris’s hand tightens around the back of your neck, his fingers sliding into your hair as he angles his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue meets yours with a bold, almost possessive stroke, and you pull back just slightly, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes lock, the heat still palpable between you. “I like the taste of you,” you murmur, a playful glint in your eyes.

He exhales, a low, throaty sound that’s part groan, part sigh, as if you’re unraveling him with every word, every touch. It’s the kind of sound that sends a shiver through you, making you feel like you’ve got him right where you want him. His eyes darken with desire and amusement before he leans back in to capture your lips again. This time, the kiss is more intense, a dance of passion and need. His hands roam to your waist, pulling you even closer. The world outside seems to fade away as you both lose yourselves in each other.

Eris’s lips trail down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You arch into him, the sensation of his touch making you shiver. You let out a soft moan as he kisses a sensitive spot just below your ear, making your pulse race. You’re left feeling lightheaded from the drinks and the smoke, and every touch, every caress feels electrifying. His hands slide up to your back, pulling you tighter against him, if possible.

His lips return to yours, and this time, the kiss is unrestrained, filled with a raw, urgent need. You can feel the strength in his arms, the way he holds you close, as if afraid that letting go might make this moment slip away. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. There’s a breathless pause, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. “You said you were feeling adventurous,” he says, and you shrug. “How adventurous?” His voice is low and his words are laced with an intensity that wasn’t there before.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost breathless from the heated kiss. “You’re not planning on taking me out back and murdering me, are you?” you joke, looking out the large windows at the sea of tree silhouettes around you.

Eris’s lips curl into a half-smile. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it, but now that you mention it…”

You nudge him playfully, your smile widening.

Eris’s expression turns serious again, though the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I promise, nothing like that. But I do have something in mind that might be a bit… beyond what you’re used to.”

You look into his eyes, feeling a mix of anticipation and excitement. “I sincerely doubt that,” you say, your voice steady. You’ve had more than your fair share of sexual escapades, indulging in all kinds of experiences in past relationships. And with Cassian, the bedroom was never without a spark—rarely did things stay simple.

Eris’s eyes brighten with satisfaction. “Good to hear.”

He stands and grabs another joint he’d rolled earlier, offering you a hand to help you up. You take it with a playful smile and follow him.

The music fades as you follow Eris down a short flight of steps. The hallway is lined with eclectic art and framed photos. One with Eris surrounded by a bunch of dogs, a grin on his face that’s more genuine than you’ve ever seen. Another with the Vipers, his arm slung casually around Azriel, all of their faces flushed with victory. You have to talk yourself out of paying too much attention to Cassian in that one. There’s even one of him with who you assume is his family, standing in front of a cabin, all smiles and warmth. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and it makes you see him in a different light—one that’s more personal, more real.

At the end of the hall, a large bookshelf stands against the wall. Eris pauses, throwing you a sly glance before reaching for one of the books. He pulls it, then pushes the bookshelf open, revealing a short set of steps leading down into a hidden space below. How cliché.

“After you,” he murmurs, gesturing for you to step inside.

You look at him with creased eyebrows, to which he only gestures his arm in again. You find a lounge, set slightly lower than the rest of the house, with five or so steps leading down into it. The room is richly decorated, with dark wood paneling, plush seating, and warm, ambient lighting that adds to the intimate, secluded atmosphere.

Eris follows you inside, closing the bookshelf door behind him. The room is completely private, a hidden sanctuary within his home. He steps closer, holding the joint he rolled earlier between his fingers. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of quiet pride.

You take a moment to absorb the space, your eyes drifting over the rich details—the king-size bed on the far wall, the soft glow of the lighting, the floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall, the smooth texture of the dark wood, the way the room seems to envelop you in warmth. It's intimate without being suffocating, luxurious without feeling ostentatious. You notice cabinets discreetly integrated into the walls, their contents hidden behind polished doors. A smirk tugs at your lips as you turn to face him. “I can honestly say I wouldn’t have expected this from you, Eris. A sex dungeon? Really?”

Eris arches a brow, looking mildly offended. “Dungeon? That’s what you’d call it?”

You raise an eyebrow in response, your teasing tone unwavering as you gesture around the room. “Isn’t that what it is? Hidden room, dark wood, all the ambiance… seems like a dungeon to me.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Dungeons are cold and grimey. This is a private lounge, a sanctuary, carefully curated for… specific tastes.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the room. “A curated sanctuary, huh? You really do have a way with words.”

Eris’s lips curve into a smirk as he reaches for your hand. “Words, among other things.”

He lets the words hang in the air, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. You arch an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as if challenging him. “Among other things?” you echo, your tone playful. “Care to elaborate?

He steps closer, his gaze steady and full of intent. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. “But first, I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

Your heart skips a beat, not out of fear but from the thrill of the unknown. You’re no stranger to pushing boundaries, and something about Eris’s confident, almost predatory demeanor only heightens your anticipation.

Instead of answering directly, you take a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. “You really think this kind of thing is—What was it you said? ‘Beyond what I’m used to’, was it?” you tease, your lips curving into a smirk.

Eris’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Alright, alright,” he murmurs before he pulls you in by the small of your back for another heated kiss, and he speaks against your lips. “You have full say in how this goes, I don’t want to go any further than you’re okay with.”

You pull him off by the hair on the nape of his neck, and the muted hiss that escapes him shoots straight to your core. “Oh, well if I’ve got full say,” you say, sarcasm lacing your words. “Give me whatever you think I can take, and then some.” You give him a dazzling smile, but he can only look at you in wonder.

His hands find your waist, giving the flesh there a tight, possessive squeeze. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your ear. “C’mon, pretty girl, strip for me.” His voice is low, almost coaxing, with a soft yet commanding tone that makes your skin tingle.

Though you’re surprised at his suddenness, you don’t hesitate. As you begin to strip away your clothes, Eris steps away, moving toward a large set of deep drawers. He looks back at you as he goes, drinking in your every movement as you peel off each item of clothing. First you shed your shirt, then the shorts, followed by your socks, underwear, and even the scrunchie on your wrist. The air thickens with anticipation as you wait, rather impatiently, to see what he’s looking for.

“Y’know, most guys wouldn’t have their back turned to the beautiful, naked woman in their basement,” you muse, examining your nails as you stand perfectly tall.

“First, it’s not a basement.” He turns to you, black rope in hand, his smirk tinged with an emotion you can’t quite place. “But you’re right, baby. I’m sorry. How about I make it up to you?”

You have to suppress a shiver at his words, or maybe it’s because of the cool air on your bare skin. He takes you in like it’s his first time seeing you, like he didn’t have you practically grinding against the heel of his hand two weeks ago. You’re not sure if it’s the substances in your system or the prospect of doing whatever he can imagine to you, but he feels different today than he had then.

Eris reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a small, sleek controller. With a quick press of a button, a rig begins to descend from the ceiling, the soft hum of the motor filling the room. He keeps his eyes on you, holding the controller loosely in one hand as the rig stops at around eye level.

His tone is almost casual as he walks back towards you with the rope, the controller goes into his pocket. “Ever use one of these before?” You can only shake your head in response as you walk around the metal hook, thinking for the first time that you may be in over your head. “Good. Go ahead and kneel there for me.”

Eris moves behind you as you kneel, working the rope through the rig and instructing you to place your hands behind your back. The rope isn’t as rough against your skin as you anticipated. His hands work with practiced ease, securing your wrists together. He steps back, watching you with a satisfied expression. Then, with deliberate slowness, he begins to raise the rig, the rope tugging your wrists upward. The position forces you to stand as it continues to rise, his eyes narrowing as you do.

Once you’re in position, bent forward with your arms forced behind you, Eris steps closer again, his fingers tracing the line of your spine. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs against your ear. His fingers skim up your arm, lingering at the nape of your neck. His touch is almost tender, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Is it okay if I–”

“Do whatever you want,” you interrupt, your voice steady even as your heart races. “If I don’t like it, I’ll let you know. Just do something, please…” You needed a distraction from your thoughts, and the newness of this all was sobering you up.

A slow, approving smile spreads across his lips as he nods. Without another word, he goes to a cabinet, selecting a few items with deliberate care. When he returns, the scent of him envelops you as he carefully ties a blindfold around your head, plunging you into darkness.

You hear the soft rustle of fabric and the click of something plastic. Before you can dwell on it, the world goes silent as something is placed over your ears. The shift is sudden, disorienting. The subtle hum of the room, even the sound of your own breathing, everything fades away, leaving you in an almost eerie stillness.

The rope tugs uncomfortably, but not painfully, at your wrists, the tension in your arms pulling you taut. Your heart pounds, each beat echoing in your chest, reminding you of the vulnerability you’re allowing yourself. Then you feel it—a gentle tap on your jaw, followed by his thumb brushing against your lower lip, pulling it down slightly. You take the hint, opening your mouth for him. The next thing you feel is cool metal pressing against your lip as he slides a ring gag into place.

“If you need to stop,” he says after raising an ear of the sound-canceling headphones, “shake your head and I’ll check on you. Nod if you understand.”

Just as you do, the pad is back over your ear.

You feel the air shift as he moves around you. Deprived of your sight and sound, your body becomes hypersensitive to every touch, every brush of fabric, every subtle shift in temperature. The tension in the air is palpable, your anticipation growing with each passing second.

A light touch trails down your spine, causing you to shiver involuntarily. The sensation is followed by the warmth of his hand as it settles on your hip, steadying you. You can barely hear your own breath, the sound muffled and distant, heightening the sense of isolation. Then, a gentle tap against your inner thigh. You instinctively spread your legs, the vulnerability of the action sending a rush of heat through your body as his touch lingers, waiting.

Then, without warning, a sharp sting lands across your ass. Your body jerks in response, the sting quickly dissolving into a low, throbbing heat. The unexpected strike pulls a soft whimper from your gagged mouth, but before you can even process it, another comes, and then another, each one precise and measured.

The blows alternate with the soft caress of his hand, the contrast between pleasure and pain pushing you deeper into the headspace he’s crafting for you. The strikes aren’t overwhelming, but each one is enough to remind you of the power he holds in this moment, the control you’ve willingly surrendered.

You lose track of time, each sharp strike followed by soothing touches, the rhythm lulling you into a dazed, almost meditative state. The gag keeps your mouth open, forcing you to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhale and exhale carrying a mix of adrenaline and endorphins. The warmth of saliva trickles from the corners of your mouth. The rhythmic stinging across your ass slowly transforms into a heated, throbbing warmth that radiates through your body. Each strike, followed by the soft caress of his hand, leaves you in a heightened state of arousal and anticipation, melding into pain and pleasure that lull you deeper into the experience.

Suddenly, the warmth of his touch disappears, and you’re left in disorienting solitude. The absence of his presence makes you acutely aware of the emptiness left behind, amplifying your anticipation. Without warning, you feel something cool against your inner thigh, followed by the unmistakable sensation of a vibrator pressed against your dripping cunt. It’s startling, and though you can’t hear it, you moan, loud and needy.

His hand is on your hip, steadying you as the vibrations increase in intensity. The buzzing becomes loud and clear as he gently pulls the headphones off, and you hear them thud as they fall somewhere. The sudden reintroduction to sound is jarring as the room’s noises flood back in—the loud hum of the vibrator, the sounds you hadn’t realized you were making, the now husky tone in his voice. Each sound is more vivid than before.

Eris’s voice breaks through this new sensory flood, warm and approving. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he murmurs, his tone a soothing balm. After being spanked, then paddled for God knows how long, between his calm, reassuring voice and the relentless vibrations against your cunt, you aren’t sure how long you’ll last.

His fingers replace the vibrator, brushing lightly against your clit. He teases your folds, just enough to drive you wild with need. You squirm against the rope, desperate for more contact, for release.

“You want more, don’t you?” Eris’s voice is low, almost a purr as he leans closer. His breath is warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”

He rubs slow circles against you, his fingers like fire against your skin. You try to articulate what you need, but the gag muffles your words into incoherent sounds. The frustration of being so close and unable to finish draws an exasperated groan from you, and he responds with a deep, dark chuckle. Eris’s touch withdraws entirely, leaving you in aching anticipation. The sudden absence of his touch is maddening, your body craving the completion he’s denying you. You can’t see him, but you can feel the warmth of his presence lingering near.

Minutes pass, or maybe just seconds—time has lost all meaning in this swirling haze of sensations. Without warning, you feel the sharp sting of a flogger grazing your inner thighs, just enough to remind you of his control. The flogger’s strikes alternate between gentle taps and more forceful hits, never quite enough to satisfy your growing desperation, but enough to keep you on edge. Each touch pulls you further into the comforting fog he’s woven, and your whimpers morph into sharp yelps of pain, each one more urgent than the last.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Does it hurt, baby?” His tone is tender, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it that promises much more pain.

You groan, the sound a mix of frustration and need, but Eris’s expression hardens. The flogger lands on your skin again, a sharp crack that reverberates through your body. He grips the hair at the nape of your neck tightly, yanking you closer until your breath mingles with his. You can feel the heat of him, the solid presence that’s both terrifying and intoxicating. His lips hover near your ear, his breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

“Do you have something to say?” he asks, his tone noticeably darker and more dangerous. There’s a tense, almost impatient edge to it, a sign that stepping out of line is not an option. “A complaint? Are you ungrateful for what I’m giving you?”

The flogger’s strikes become more deliberate, more vicious. Each one lands with a stinging, biting pain that blossoms across your skin, the sensations mingling with the ache of your muscles straining to hold the position he’s put you in. He’s toying with you, savoring your helplessness, the way your body trembles and arches under his control, the way your breath hitches in anticipation of each new strike.

“Who’s in charge?” he whispers in a slow, deep voice, every word dripping with malice. You try to answer, but the gag in your mouth turns your response into a pathetic, muffled sound. Your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, tears of helplessness welling up and quickly absorbed by the blindfold. You can’t form the words, can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and that only makes it worse.

He clicks his tongue, a sound of feigned disappointment, and tugs your hair again, forcing your head back. “Ah, couldn’t quite catch that,” he sneers, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

You whimper, the sound a pitiful mix of plea and frustration, and he chuckles, a dark, cruel sound that sends a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. He’s enjoying this — enjoying how easily you bend to his will, how every strike of the flogger makes you jerk forward with a cry. He wants to see it all, the way you crumble under his touch, the way you surrender every last shred of control and hand your worries away to him.

“I control how this goes,” he growls. “You said you’d be good for me, baby. Did you lie? Do I need to stop treating you like a good girl? Because I can do that if that’s what you want.” The flogger strikes down in the middle of your back with a crack that feels like it splits you open, and you cry out, the sound desperate. Your body lurches forward, but Eris’s hand is still in your hair, holding you in place, forcing you to stay still, to take every single lash he’s giving you.

“Look at you,” he hisses, his voice dripping with condescension. “So fucking needy. You love this, don’t you? Being my little toy, something I can break however I feel like.”

The words cut deep, the filth of them sending shockwaves through you. You hate how true they feel, how much you crave the pain, the degradation he’s giving you. The flogger strikes again, harder this time, and your knees almost buckle from the force of it. But you don’t fall. He won’t let you.

“Oh, you like when I treat you like this. You like this a lot better than before, I can tell. You’re just a fucking hole, aren’t you?” he continues. “A pretty little slut who’ll do anything to please me. Do you even have any shame left, or do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” The flogger descends again, and again, each strike punctuating his filthy words. “I’m going to break you, baby. Turn you into the perfect little slut who’ll take everything I give and then beg for more. And you’ll love it, won’t you? You’ll love being nothing but my whore, thinking about nothing except wanting my cock.”

Each word, each degrading, filthy word, sinks into your mind, pushing you further into the haze of submission. The pain of the flogger, the sting of his words, they’re all you can think about. Your world narrows to just him — his voice, his hands, the way he’s tearing you apart and building you back up, molding you into what he wants, what you need.

He pauses, the flogger still resting against your skin, the rough leather a reminder of what’s coming next. He drags it slowly down your back, letting it scrape over the welts he’s already raised. The sensation is entirely new, a subtle pleasure and pain that leaves you trembling.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his tone a bit gentler now, but still laced with that underlying cruelty. The change gives you whiplash. “I can see it. You want to be good for me, don’t you? You want to show me just how perfect you can be.”

The flogger strikes again, and you gasp, the sound a desperate cry. But this time, he doesn’t stop. He strikes again, and again, the rhythm relentless. Each lash pulls you further from the chaos of your thoughts, dragging you into a dark, twisted place where nothing exists but him. The pain and pleasure blend together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

“You’re going to remember this, baby,” he promises. “You’re going to remember how it feels to be mine, to be owned. And you’re going to beg me for it again, aren’t you? You’re going to come crawling back desperate for me to use you, to turn that pretty little mind off and break you all over again.”

He’s right. You can feel it, deep in your bones, in the way your body responds to him, in the way your mind clings to every word he says.

Eris’s eyes never leave your face, his gaze predatory as he watches you fall apart for him, unraveling under the weight of his dominance. You’re exactly where he wants you — lost in the moment, completely detached from anything and everything happening outside these walls. As the flogger comes down one last time, sending a final, searing wave of pain through your body, you know that this is exactly where you need to be tonight.

Finally, when you’re trembling, he lowers the flogger and returns to your clit, the light, teasing touch of his fingers reigniting the fire within you. “You feel that, baby?” he whispers, his tone teasing. “Feel how wet you are for me? You like when I hit you, don’t you?” He drags two fingers up your center, gathering your slickness on them before bringing them up to your open mouth. “How badly do you want to come?”

You nod, desperate to show him how much you need this, but he’s not finished with you yet. “Tongue out,” he purrs, his voice a low, silky command that sends a shiver through your already trembling body. Without a moment’s hesitation, you obey, sticking your tongue through the cold metal of the ring gag. A string of saliva spills out at the motion, glistening in the low light, and you hear a soft, satisfied exhale from him.

Eris drags his fingers down your tongue, cleans them off inside your mouth, pressing them against your tongue. “Can you taste how badly you want it?” His voice is a dark, teasing caress, each word wrapping around your mind, sinking deeper into that place where only his voice and touch matter.

You can’t respond, not even attempt to, but the question is rhetorical anyway. He doesn’t need an answer; he knows. He withdraws his fingers, leaving your mouth empty, yearning for more. The loss makes you whimper, as does the ache in your jaw — a pitiful sound that he savors as he continues, his tone a mix of mockery and care.

“You can taste how good I’m making you feel, how much you love it when I hurt you. You want to taste something better, baby?”

Before you can process what he means, you hear the familiar flick of a lighter, the soft his as the flame catches. Your heart thumps in anticipation. A moment later, the smell of weed fills the air, earthy and heady.

Eris takes a slow, deep drag from the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before he leans in close. His lips brush against the edge of the gag as he exhales, blowing the smoke directly into your mouth. It’s so unexpected, so sudden, that you choke, your body convulsing slightly as you try to inhale and cough at the same time.

The thick, pungent smoke fills your lungs, burning them and reigniting your high. You can feel him watching you intently, relishing the way your body reacts.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively gentle. “I want to see how much you can take.”

Your chest heaves as you fight to draw in air through the second cloud of smoke he blows your way. He chuckles, and with an almost casual motion, he reaches up and unfastens the gag, pulling it away from your mouth. The relief is immediate, but it’s laced with the residue of his control, the taste of smoke lingering on your tongue.

“There we go,” he coos, running his thumb over your wet, trembling lips. “Such a good fucking girl, taking what I give you. But we’re not done yet, are we? No, you’re going to give me more, right?”

His thumb presses against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly, and you instinctively suck on it, the action almost automatic. Your body responds to him without thought, driven purely by the need to please, to submit, to give him everything.

When he finally, finally begins to untie you, his hands are gentle but firm, his touch careful as he releases the ropes one by one. The sensation of freedom is almost overwhelming after being bound for so long. But before you can fully process it, his hands are on you — supporting you and guiding your arms back down slowly and carefully. He pulls the blindfold from your eyes, and you try to readjust to the lighting.

He’s taking another pull, holding the joint between his lips as he takes you in. But that isn’t what stops you in your tracks. At some point during your immobility, he’d rid himself of his shirt, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from taking him in. His hair is tied back into a bun, strands having fallen loose around his face, and his chest is covered in a glistening layer of sweat. Images of Eris spanking you, walking around you and assessing where to land the next blow, of the muscles in his arms flexing as he strikes. The hungry look in his eyes and the tightness of his jeans as he watches you writhe under his touch.

“How do you feel, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. “Did I get you there? That nice little headspace where it’s just you and me?”

His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of satisfaction in it as if he already knows the answer. “Did it help?” he continues, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Did I get you out of that busy little head of yours?”

You nod, still dazed by the intensity of the experience. You’d felt blissful before, sure, but this was entirely different. This was unadulterated endorphins and adrenaline. He grins, the expression both proud and wicked. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering sensations.

But he doesn’t stop there. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now, let’s see how long I can keep you floating, yeah? You’re not done yet.” Eris tosses the flogger in the general direction of the shelf it goes on, and guides you with a commanding yet gentle touch to a mat on the other side of the room, placed in front of full-length mirrors. The surface underfoot is soft and inviting, and he helps you kneel in the center, the plush cushioning molding to your knees. He moves behind you, his hands brushing along your arms until they rest on your shoulders, a comforting weight as he leans in close. He hands you the joint, inviting you to take a few hits before handing it back. The smoke in your mouth, in your lungs, it only boosts the floating feeling you have from the experience of this all.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety whisper that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “So beautiful, so ready. But I need you to understand something, sweetheart.” His hands slide down your arms until they reach your wrists, guiding them up to the back of your head. “I need you to be ready to trust me completely. How far I push you now is all about helping you relax, so you can completely lose yourself.”

He pauses, letting his words sink in, his breath warm against your ear. “This isn’t about making things difficult, not for either of us. It’s about you letting me guide you through this. I want you to be my good girl, to follow my lead and take everything I give you.”

His hands rest on your shoulders again, squeezing you lightly. “You’re going to do everything I ask, aren’t you? You’ll be obedient, you’ll let me push you, because you know I’m going to take care of you, don’t you?” His voice is soothing, like honey, and you can’t help but melt into it. “You’re going to give me all of you, every last bit, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need. Remember how you begged for this last time we were together? I want you to be that good girl for me again.”

As his words echo in your mind, you recall the last time you were with him, at Ianthe’s party. The memory is all too vivid — your desperate need, your willingness to surrender completely. You had been so open, so eager, voicing all your desires and pleas. The way you had let go of all inhibitions, the intensity of your submission, and the way your words had spilled out in a fervent, almost frenzied confession. The memory is as intoxicating now as it was then, all things considered.

His words are a gentle invitation, luring you in with a calm confidence that makes it impossible to say anything but yes. You feel hesitant as you consider the depth of your commitment. The tension in your chest tightens for a moment, but then you nod slowly, your voice soft. “Yes,” you murmur, the word barely a whisper but laden with an unspoken promise to embrace whatever he asks of you.

Eris’s fingers brush lightly over your hands, guiding you to interlace your fingers. He steps back to observe you, his eyes raking over your form, taking in every detail. The floor beneath you is hard, unforgiving, but his presence—his authority—keeps you grounded. The anticipation builds as he circles you slowly, like a predator assessing his prey.

“Knees wider," he orders, his voice still soft but with a firm undertone that brooks no disobedience. You adjust, spreading them further apart, feeling the strain as your muscles stretch. You watch him through the mirror, watch how he gives a satisfied smirk as you obey. You finally see how blissed out you look. A dewy sheen of sweat covers your body, your chest rises and falls deliciously with each breath, and your skin is red where you remember him flogging you. You couldn’t imagine what your ass and thighs looked like; red as fire, you imagined, if the lingering, stinging pain was anything to go by.

“Arch your back for me.” His hand is at the small of your back, applying gentle pressure until you curve just the way he wants. The uncomfortable position has you on edge, completely exposed, and yet there’s a strange comfort in the way he controls you, in how thoroughly he’s taking over your body and mind.

Eris takes his time, relishing the sight. “Look at you, already so perfect for me,” he purrs, his hand trailing down your spine in a slow caress that sends shivers through you. “You’re going to stay just like this, sweet girl, you hear me?”

You nod as he runs a hand over your head in a soft caress, trails that hand down your spine. Then, without warning, his touch sharpens—a sudden, firm grip on your hips, followed by the sting of his hand against your ass. The first slap is light, almost playful, but it quickly escalates. The next one lands harder, and he pauses to run his hand over the reddened skin, soothing it briefly before delivering another, even harder.

"Does it hurt, baby?" he teases, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Or does it just make you want more?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he continues, alternating between sharp spanks and gentle caresses, pushing you to embrace the pain, to find pleasure in the way he’s handling you.

"You’re so good for me," he continues, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Taking everything I give you. I bet you love it, don’t you? The way I’m making you feel?" He chuckles a bit at your lack of response. “You can speak now, sweetheart, I took the gag off for a reason.”

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath. “Hurts…” you manage to whimper, your muscles shaking. “Hurts really good. I want more.” He spanks you again. Hard.

“Is that how good girls get what they want?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed and you recover from the sting of pain.

“No, I’m sorry,” you rush out, wincing from the pain of the spank, the soreness in your legs and arms. It’s too much. “Please, will you give me more?”

He takes one last, long drag from the joint, finishing it off and throwing the roach towards a bin. He drags his fingers down your back again, only to grip your hips and pull you further back, adjusting your position until you’re even more exposed, your knees straining to hold you up. The discomfort is intense, but the way he’s pushing you has you on the brink of something deeper, something more primal.

Finally, he moves in front of you, his eyes dark with intent. He cups your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "If you want more you’ll have to work for it, baby.” You nod eagerly and he smiles endearingly. “You’re going to show me just how badly you want me," he says, his voice a mix of tender command and raw desire. "And you’re going to do it the way I like."

He steps closer, guiding your face until your lips hover just in front of the zipper of his jeans. "Open that mouth wide for me," he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before pressing it down. "That’s it. Nice and wide."

You obey without hesitation, the need to please him overwhelming everything else. He pulls you into him, his hand resting over your interlaced ones, rubbing your face and mouth into the denim. You feel pride at the way his cock grows stiffer without having taken him into your mouth. You can only imagine how good it must feel to get fucked by that cock, to have it slam into you from below when you ride him, to take it so deep down your throat you can’t even taste his release. A low ‘Now, look at that’ pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see his arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t even have to ask you to keep going,” he says, his voice laced with arrogance. Your ears turn red with embarrassment when you realize you’ve been practically nuzzling your face against his cock, but oddly, there’s a twisted sense of contentment mingled with it.

He takes his time undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, mere centimeters from your still-open mouth. No one can make taking jeans off hot. No one except Eris, apparently. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, but not too much—just enough to remind you who’s in charge.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. His cock is hard and throbbing, a rich, warm shade of pink with a slight flush at the tip. The girth is impressive, making your mouth water with anticipation. It stands proudly, the pre-cum at the tip glistening slightly under the dim light. You lean in, ready to take him into your mouth. The heat and tension in the air are palpable, and you’re just about to close your lips around him when he gently but firmly grips your hair.

"Not yet,” he murmurs, a playful edge in his voice. “You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? I haven’t given you permission yet.”

You pause, your lips hovering inches away from him. Your eyes flick up to meet his, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in your gaze. “You’re cruel, you know that?” You drop your arms, the strain of holding them there finally too much. He notices the shift, but to your relief, he doesn’t say anything, letting it slide.

Eris smirks. “Cruel? I prefer to think of it as… thorough. You wouldn’t want me to rush, would you? A little patience never hurt anyone.”

Your eyes narrow playfully. “Patience, huh? I expect a good reward afterward.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grip on your hair loosening slightly. “Is that so? And what kind of reward are you hoping for, baby?”

“Something a little more satisfying than just this,” you say with a teasing smirk, your wit finally returning after being silenced for so long. “I’m thinking you could make all this worth my while.”

Eris chuckles softly, looking down and relishing the view of his cock hovering over your face. “I will, without a doubt. But you need to be patient,” he repeats. His eyes linger on you as he shifts, rubbing his cock slowly against your cheeks and lips. The touch of his skin is warm and firm, and each movement is calculated, gliding with a teasing pressure. The pre-cum at the tip leaves a subtle, slick trail that only adds to your arousal.

You feel the ridges and veins of his cock brushing against your skin. His touch is firm but purposeful, making sure you feel every bit of his arousal. He takes pleasure in the way your lips part involuntarily, the way your breath hitches with each stroke. Eris’s breathing grows a bit heavier, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions, savoring the build-up and the control he exerts.

As he continues, he lightly traces his cock along your jawline and over your closed eyelids, creating a delicious blend of sensations. The warmth of him mingles with the coolness of the room, heightening the contrast between the two. He pauses occasionally, teasingly pressing his cock against your lips or rubbing it against your forehead, only to shift and start again.

Your need intensifies with each passing moment, the teasing just shy of maddening. You try to keep your composure, but the craving to have him in your mouth is overwhelming. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you whisper, “Please… let me.”

Eris’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with your plea. “Now that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, his grip tightening slightly in your hair as he guides you closer. “Go on, baby.”

With a soft breath, you lean in, finally closing the small distance between you and him. The moment your lips wrap around the head of his cock, a soft groan escapes him, and it sends a thrill through your body.

Slowly, you take him deeper, your tongue gliding along his length, savoring the warmth and the weight of him. The slickness of his pre-cum makes it easier to slide him into your mouth, and you hollow your cheeks as you move. His fingers thread through your hair, guiding your rhythm, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely contained control he holds over himself.

You focus on the sounds he makes—the low, husky breaths, the occasional hitch in his voice when you find a particularly sensitive spot. Each reaction spurs you on, encouraging you to take him deeper, to push the limits of your own control. Eris’s voice, rougher now with desire, breaks through the haze of your focus. “That’s it, just like that,” he praises, his grip on your hair loosening slightly to let you set the pace.

His hips start to move in time with your motions, a slow, steady thrust that matches the rhythm you’ve established. You relax your throat, taking him in further, feeling the head of his cock brush against the back of your throat. The sensation is overwhelming, yet you revel in it, the sheer intimacy of this act, the way you’re entirely at his mercy, yet completely in control of the pleasure you’re giving him.

Eris’s breathing grows more ragged, the tension coiling tighter within him. He watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust, his usual composure slipping just enough for you to see how much he’s holding back. The knowledge that you’re the one drawing out these reactions from him makes you bolder, urging you to take him deeper, to drive him closer to the edge.

But just as you think he’s about to let go, he pulls back slightly, halting your movements. “Not yet,” he breathes, voice strained but firm. “I’m not done with you.” His words are a promise, and though you’re aching to continue, you obey, releasing him with a mix of anticipation and frustration.

Eris's hand slides from your hair to your cheek, his touch gentle now. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a brief, almost tender kiss before he straightens up. Without a word, he helps you to your feet, his hands steady and reassuring as they guide you toward the bed.

He lowers you onto the soft sheets with care. The roughness from before has melted away, replaced by something softer, almost reverent. As you settle onto the bed, Eris kneels at the edge, his hands gliding over your thighs, spreading them slowly.

He looks up at you, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart stutter. But just as quickly as it appeared, it fades away. He’s silent as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment before he continues, trailing soft, slow kisses up your leg. Each touch is feather light, as if he’s savoring every inch of you.

When he reaches your core, he pauses, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. But instead of diving in, Eris takes his time, pressing a soft kiss just above your clit, then another, slightly lower. His lips are gentle, tender.

Finally, his mouth closes around you, and he begins to work with a slow, deliberate pace, his tongue moving in languid strokes that send waves of pleasure through you. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a steady, sweet rhythm that makes you feel cherished in a way that takes your breath away.

His hands slide under your thighs, lifting them slightly as he brings you closer to his mouth, his tongue swirling in a way that’s both gentle and utterly consuming. Each movement is tender, every touch filled with a quiet, unspoken affection. He takes his time, coaxing soft moans from your lips with each delicate flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle.

The pleasure builds slowly, like a tide rising within you, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge, not from overwhelming intensity, but from the sheer tenderness of it all. Eris’s name escapes your lips in a soft, breathy moan, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of sensation coursing through you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t rush you to the peak, but lets you linger in the sweet, tender pleasure for as long as possible. It’s only when your body begins to tremble, when you’re right on the brink, that he finally picks up the pace, his tongue moving with a little more pressure, a little more focus, guiding you gently toward the release you’ve been craving.

And when you do fall, it’s into the softest, most blissful release, the kind that leaves you feeling weightless and utterly at peace. Eris stays with you through it all, his mouth never leaving you until the last tremor of pleasure has faded, and then he pulls back, pressing one final, lingering kiss to your trembling thigh. When he does pull away, it’s with a soft, almost reluctant sigh. He moves up your body with the same tender care, his hands trailing lightly over your skin, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. When his eyes meet yours, there’s a softness there.

Eris doesn’t rush. He leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that’s more about comfort than urgency, more about reassurance than demand. His mouth moves slowly, languidly, tasting you as if he has all the time in the world.

Your hands find their way to his back, sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your body arches instinctively toward his. There’s a quiet, almost reverent intensity in the way he touches you, his hands moving to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours.

He shifts slightly, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist as he settles between your thighs. You can feel the hard, insistent press of him against you, the heat of his skin melding with yours, and it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

“Are you ready?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft.

You nod, breathless, your eyes meeting his with a trust that’s unspoken but absolute.

Eris presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lining himself up with your entrance, and with one slow, deliberate thrust, he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and comfort, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he begins to move.

He sets a gentle pace, his hips rolling in slow, deep strokes that leave you gasping. There’s no rush, no frantic rhythm — just a steady, measured movement that builds a different kind of tension. Eris’s hands cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he watches you, his gaze never leaving yours. Each thrust is accompanied by a whispered word of encouragement, a soft murmur of praise that only heightens the intimacy between you.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each roll of his hips sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The world narrows down to just the two of you, the softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of his body above you, and the gentle rhythm of your bodies coming together.

Eris leans down, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath warm and ragged as he moves inside you. “You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice husky, laced with a deep sense of awe. “So perfect.” His words send a shiver down your spine, the intensity of the moment wrapping around you both.

He shifts his angle slightly, his hips pressing deeper, and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The new angle has him hitting just the right spot, each thrust making your toes curl with pleasure. “Eris…” you moan, the sound of his name on your lips seeming to spur him on.

“Right there?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand trails down to grip your hip, holding you in place as he drives into you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “I want to hear you, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you gasp, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “You’re perfect, Eris, just like that.”

His pace increases slightly, still measured but with a growing urgency that matches the heat building between you. Each thrust is powerful, and precise, and sends waves of pleasure rippling through your entire body. You can feel the sweat starting to slick your skin, your breaths coming out in short, desperate gasps as he brings you closer to the edge with every movement.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, his voice gentle yet firm, and when you do, you find his gaze locked on yours, his amber eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something that makes your heart stutter. “I want to see you when you come,” he adds, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek as his other hand slides between your bodies to find your clit.

The moment his fingers touch you, you’re lost. He circles your clit with slow, deliberate strokes that match the rhythm of his thrusts, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he watches your reaction.

“Please…” The word slips from your lips before you can stop it, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts, your body arching into his touch as the pressure builds inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.

“Please, what?” Eris’s voice is teasing, but there’s an edge of intensity there, a deep desire to hear you say it, to have you begging for him. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything.”

“Please, I want to come,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “I need it, Eris, please.”

His eyes darken with satisfaction, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss as he picks up the pace, his fingers moving faster against your clit. “Then come for me,” he whispers against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. The combination of his words, his touch, and the deep, steady thrusts of his cock send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body clenches around him, your back arching off the bed as you cry out his name, the pleasure so intense it’s almost too much to bear.

Eris doesn’t let up, driving you through the waves of your orgasm with steady, unrelenting thrusts, his fingers never leaving your clit until you’re trembling beneath him, completely spent. He watches you the entire time, his gaze heated and possessive, a soft groan escaping his lips as he feels you come undone around him.

As your orgasm begins to subside, he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his hips still moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. “So fucking perfect.”

You’re barely able to respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you manage to whisper his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continues to move inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent.

Eris doesn’t hesitate, sensing the way your body melts beneath him, still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. With a smooth, practiced motion, he flips the two of you over, his hands guiding you to straddle his waist. Your limbs feel like jelly, weak and trembling, but he shushes you softly, his hands firm on your hips.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he brushes your hair away from your face. “Just lay on me. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you down gently, your chest pressed against his as your head rests on his shoulder. His hands slide up and down your back, grounding you, before they settle on your hips again, holding you steady. You barely have time to catch your breath before he starts moving, his hips thrusting upward with powerful, controlled strokes.

The sensation is overwhelming as he fills you completely, the force of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You can feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the strength of his body beneath you, and the way his cock drives up into you with unrelenting intensity.

“Eris…” you moan, your voice muffled against his neck as your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he takes control.

“Shh, just feel me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements as he continues to thrust up into you, each stroke hitting deeper, harder. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your body responds instinctively, your hips moving in time with his as he drives into you over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his low groans, the intensity of it all threatening to unravel you once again.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his pace relentless as he chases your pleasure. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cradle the back of your head, pressing your face against his neck, while the other grips your waist, pulling you down onto him with every thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect. You’re gonna make me come, baby. Just like that.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body clenching around him as you feel yourself spiraling toward another climax. The intensity of his thrusts, the way he holds you so close, the deep, reverent way he whispers your name — it’s all too much.

“Eris, I’m…” you start, but the words dissolve into a moan as he slams up into you with a particularly hard thrust, your vision going white as another orgasm crashes over you, more intense than the last.

“Oh, you giving me another one, sweetheart?” he growls as he feels you tighten around him. “Let me feel you.”

Your body convulses in his arms as you shatter, the pleasure ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Eris’s grip on you tightens, his own release just seconds behind yours as he thrusts up into you one last time, pulling out as he comes with a low, guttural groan, his cum spilling over your ass in hot, erratic bursts.

He holds you there, both of you trembling, your bodies entwined as you come down from the high together. His hands are gentle now, soothing as they trace patterns on your skin, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

After the intensity of your release subsides, Eris’s touch becomes gentle and soothing. He cradles you in his arms, his fingers brushing tenderly over your back and sides as he presses soft kisses to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern. “You did so well, you know that?”

You nod, your body still shivering slightly from the aftershocks, but a soft smile plays on your lips. “I’m okay,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

Eris gives you a reassuring smile, his hands moving soothingly up and down your back. “Good,” he murmurs, his tone tender. “I’m here. Just relax, let me take care of you.”

He carefully disentangles himself from you, his movements slow to avoid startling you. As he rises from the bed, he gently helps you shift so that you’re on your stomach, your hips slightly elevated. “Just a second,” he says softly.

Eris heads to a nearby cupboard, opening it to reveal a small, built-in towel warmer. He retrieves a warm, damp towel from inside, the comforting heat emanating from it as he brings it back to you.

He returns to the bed and carefully unfolds the towel, its warmth a welcome sensation. “I’m going to clean you up now, okay?” he asks gently but doesn’t wait for an answer as he begins to dab at your skin. The warmth of the towel is soothing, easing any lingering tension.

His hands are gentle as he tends to you. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “Just wanted to make sure you’re all clean and comfortable.”

Once he’s finished, he places the damp towel aside and returns to your side, pulling the comforter over you both. He settles next to you, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. His arms are steady and reassuring around you, and his murmurs of affection make you feel cherished and adored.

You finally find your voice, looking up at him with a tired but content smile. “That was incredible. I didn’t expect to feel so…” So good? So much? So intimate?

Eris grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You snuggle closer, your head resting against his chest. “I feel like I’m floating. In a good way.” You mentally kick yourself — of course, it was in a good way. Who says floating in a bad way?

Eris wraps his arms around you a little tighter. “You deserve to feel this good. Just know I’m always here for you, not just for things like this, for whatever. Whatever you need, (y/n).”

You sink deeper into Eris’s embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. The comforting weight of his arms and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of serene contentment. The intensity of the earlier moments fades into a gentle afterglow.

As you relax, your thoughts begin to wander, drifting back to the complexities of your life outside this moment. Cassian's name surfaces in your mind, but it's quickly followed by the image of him with Elain. The idea of them together interrupts your peace. It should sting, but somehow, it doesn’t.

Instead, the memory of Cassian and Elain feels distant, almost abstract, overshadowed. You'll deal with it another time.

You shift slightly, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. The world outside, with its complications and unresolved emotions, feels like it’s receding. In this moment, the only thing that matters is the warmth between you, the sense of being cared for, and the gentle hum of satisfaction that lingers from your shared intimacy.

Eris’s soft breathing and the comforting pressure of his touch anchor you, and you let yourself drift in the quiet aftermath, content that you’ve found a moment of peace and connection that you can hold onto.

#velarisdusk hockey au #acotar #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader smut #eris vanserra smut #eris acotar #acotar smut #acotar reader insert #hockey au #acotar hockey au #as per yoozh if you see typos FUCKING TELL ME PLEASE THATS SO EMBARRASSING

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7s3ven · 1 year ago

Text

POPULAR. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N is tired of being bullied her whole life so she makes a deal with Luke. As long as she does his bidding, he’ll make her popular.

“Beggin' on her knees to be popular. That's her dream, to be popular. Kill anyone to be popular, sell her soul to be popular.”

Warnings : toxic! luke + y/n (but they’re lowkey iconic together), gore, death, manipulation if you squint, dark themes, y/n + luke are both pretty messed up, pretty gruesome near the end, not proof read

A/N : Me when I wanna write toxic one shots to express my feelings but I've been in toxic relationships and writing fluff is how I comfort myself :c

—

Years ago, the young Y/N would’ve scoffed in her face. Maybe even spat at her if she was feeling bratty enough. Why make a deal with Luke? It was like selling your soul to the devil.

Camp Half-Blood loved Luke, adored him even. But under all that courage and glory was a monster. Y/N had seen it first hand when he turned his head for a split second during a duel, his eyes going dark and his lips curling into a cruel sneer.

Nobody except Y/N ever noticed that hidden darkness behind his soft kindness. It wasn’t her fault she made that wretched deal. He approached her first, staring so longingly into her eyes and speaking with a voice so charming that she hung off every word.

The first time he talked to her was when she was eating breakfast, isolated from the rest of her chattering siblings. Ares was her father, which explained all her retrained anger towards the world. She was the lowest of the bunch, never socialising with anyone and avoiding all group activities to the best of her ability.

She was skilled with a spear but did anybody notice? No one did. Except Luke. In a way, he was her saviour in this eat or be eaten world. Y/N was a tough cookie to crack but getting her head shoved into toilets every day could wear down anybody.

Luke wasn’t usually one to take an interest in girls. He had plenty fawning over him for his attention but none of them could catch his eye like Y/N. There was something about her precise aim with the blade of her spear and the way she gulped down her ice cold water without a second thought. Call it creepy, but Luke found solitude in secretly watching Y/N train.

“Y/N.” Was the first thing Luke had ever said to her. She looked up in surprise and Clarisse’s face turned sour at the sight of the Hermes boy. Her beady eyes narrowed as his hand brushed against Y/N’s shoulder.

“You’re pretty good with a spear.” He quietly whispered in Y/N’s ear so none of the other Ares kids could hear him. “If you ever need a sparring partner, I’m right here.”

Y/N lips parted in shock as she watched him slink off towards his own table. Her siblings stared at her in curiosity before turning back do their food, scoffing at her.

Every minute, Y/N would steal small glances at Luke. And every time, he caught her and gave her a knowing smirk. She looked down at her plate after being caught for the fifth time, her cheeks flushing red and turning hot. She no longer felt hungry.

Y/N stood up, scraping the rest of her food into the fire. She felt a presence behind her but she paid no mind to it until they spoke it.

“So, did you think about my offer?” Of course it was Luke. Y/N flinched, almost dropping the porcelain plate into the fire to join her discarded meal.

“Why me?” She asked, her voice nothing but a quiet whisper that barely reached Luke’s ears.

“Why not you?” He replied, cheekily tilting his head.

Y/N could come up with many reasons to that question. She always took Luke as someone who carefully picked who he interacted with, especially when it came to girls.

“May’s prettier.” She said, nodding over to the bright brown-haired girl tucked in the middle of the Aphrodite table.

“Yeah, she’s pretty but you’re prettier.”

“Vivian’s smarter.”

Luke glanced at the Athena girl with not much interest, shrugging. “Not my type.” Vivian’s was everybody type with her sharp-witted mouth and perfectly cut bob.

“Why are you talking to me, Luke?” After a while, Y/N cut straight to the chase. She furrowed her brows in confusion, a little uneasy with how close Luke was and how girls were glancing over at her.

“I’ve seen you fight.” Luke continued to avoid her questions, much to her annoyance. “Like I said, I’d be happy to be your sparring partner. Today, five pm. Does that work for you?”

Y/N stared at him, hesitating for a moment before she slowly nodded. “Yeah… I’ll see you then.” She briefly smiled before rushing off, dumping her plate somewhere else.

Luke wasn’t expecting much when he showed up at the arena, holding his newly sharpened sword. He figured that if Y/N didn’t end up coming then he could at least get some solo practice in.

But no, she was sitting on a bench inside the arena, fiddling with her spear. She lifted her head, her eyes locking with Luke’s.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you’d actually show up.” He dropped his sword in front of her, grinning.

Y/N shrugged. “It… seemed rude not to.” She muttered, looking down at the ground around.

“I’ll be honest, Y/N. I didn’t just want to spar with you. I’ve come to make you a deal. I’ve noticed that a particular someone keeps shoving your head into a toilet.” Luke smirked when he saw Y/N stiffen. He crouched down in front of her, “What if I told you… that I could make it all go away? Just like that.”

He snapped his fingers.

“I can make you popular, Y/N. So popular that no one, not even Clarisse, will mess with you again.”

Y/N gave Luke that same narrowed glare that Clarisse often sent his way. “What’s the catch?” She asked, causing Luke to chuckle.

“Smart. The catch isn’t that big. All you have to do is whatever I tell you to.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised slightly as she finally made eye contact with Luke again. He charmingly smiled at her. She thickly gulped, weighing out all her options in her head. She could reject his offer and be the victim of relentless bullying… or she could accept and never get hit by Clarisse again.

Luke frowned at her hesitation. “The choice is your’s.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered to look at everything but him. She slowly nodded. “Okay.” She whispered. “Okay. I’ll do it. Deal.”

It started off small. Steal someone from Clarisse, easy enough. Y/N was almost as cunning as Hermes himself, which slightly impressed Luke. He gave her a nod of approval after she dropped Clarisse’s beloved spear in front of him. As promised, he stopped the bullying, but in a way Y/N never expected.

After yet another failed game of capture the flag, Y/N was walking towards the large crowd of demigods when Luke abruptly picked her up and kissed her. Dating or even being around Luke Castellan was guaranteed to make you popular and Y/N had somehow been roped into it without her knowledge.

Her tasks weren’t too difficult until Luke told her to do the unthinkable. To pick a target and violently murder them as a warning to the camp that bad things were coming.

“Luke… you know I can’t.” She muttered as she hid behind the Hermes cabin with him. She was clutching onto his arm, begging him to give her another task. Luke stared down at her in annoyance.

He rolled his eyes, slightly sneering. “Come on. It’s easy. I’ll even show you.” Y/N peered at him through her lashes, looking like a deer in headlights. But she couldn’t say no. She could never say no to Luke when he had his lips pressed so firmly against her’s and when his fingers traced delicate circles around her waist as he lifted her shirt.

After that short conversation, Y/N’s nights consisted of sneaking out to meet Luke. He taught her how to wield an ax, how to knock someone out, and even explained how to dismember a body. Clearly, he had studied these dark topics.

Y/N lay on the forest floor, staring up at the stars. Luke was nearby, his arm lazily slung around her waist and pulling her closer towards him.

“We have to be careful.” He whispered in her ear, tucking a strand of her hair away. Y/N knew that if Luke went down, she’d be forced with him and vice versa. He pressed a light kiss to her neck, inhaling the smell of her floral perfume.

Luke had a twisted obsession with the idea of murder. It thrilled him. The vivid image in his mind of blood splattered across the floor and limbs bent at awkward angles made his stomach churn but... it was exciting.

"Luke... what are we doing with our lives?" Y/N muttered, turning to face him. When had everything gone downhill? When did they suddenly turn into borderline murders and sadists? Perhaps Luke was always like this and he infected Y/N with his disease. But if she was willing to do anything to become popular, even drive a knife through someone's heart, then it just showed Luke that she might be as abnormal as him. “Princess,” Luke’s voice was barely a whisper as he handed her a cigarette. He often kept them hidden under his mattress, only taking them out when he needed to destress. He lit the tip for her and watched as she slowly took a drag, blowing out a mouthful of smoke.

The pair stared down at the body in front of them. They weren’t dead, merely knocked out. Outside, the wind was relentless. It smashed against the wooden walls of the abandoned cabin, as if warning Y/N and Luke to stop whatever madness they were about to commit.

BORN IN GRIEF,

“Do you ever think it could have been different if the gods gave a fuck about us?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. She took another drawl from the cigarette before passing it over to Luke. “Would we be less… messed up if they actually cared?”

Luke shrugged. “Maybe. But this is who we are, we can’t change that.”

RAISED IN HATE,

Y/N would never admit it out loud but she and Luke were sick. Sick for even thinking of doing this and suddenly, Y/N’s stomach lurched. A tiny morsel of her personal morals held her back from approaching the body but she was also curious. How long would it take until the demigod before them realised their doom?

HELPLESS TO DEFY THEIR FATE.

They stirred but their eyes never fluttered open. Luke and Y/N exchanged a look before he gestured her forward. She held the wooden handle of the ax tightly, dragging it along the floor as she stepped towards the unconscious body.

Y/N was unusually calm when she lifted the ax, the sharp blade glinting in the moonlight. Suddenly, the demigod awoke with a desperate gasp. They scrambled back at the sight of Y/N.

LET THEM RUN,

“Please, don’t… what have I ever done to you? Don’t kill me! I haven’t even completed a quest or been claimed yet!” The demigod clasped their hands together, begging for sweet mercy. Y/N merely gazed at them, wide-eyed and unmoving.

“I’m afraid she won’t listen to you.” Luke made his presence known. The demigod’s eyes flickered over to him and they let out another gasp. They couldn’t beloved that Luke, the son of Hermes, the heartthrob of Camp Half-Blood was sitting idly on the sidelines while his companion was staring at them like they were an experiment. Simply a hypothesis that needed to be tested.

“She works for me. She’d kill her best friend if I told her to.” Luke gestured for Y/N to continue. The ax was raised above her head, ready to pierce the heart. Y/N swiftly swung the blade down. It buried itself in the demigod’s chest and a drowned-out scream slipped past their lips.

LET THEM LIVE,

Y/N’s eyes shook as she stared at the body in what could only be described as desperation. Desperation to land another sick blow.

Y/N lost count of how many times she raised the ax up and swung it down. All she could think about was the euphoria and giddiness rushing to her head. Blood stained her skin but she didn’t stop until the demigod was nothing but a mangled corpse, unable to be identified just by looking at their gruesome face.

Thunder crashed and lightning flickered. Rain poured down, the gods’ way of expressing their grave disappointment.

BUT DO NOT FORGET WHAT WE CANNOT FORGIVE.

Luke blew out another cloud of smoke, gazing at Y/N with his own twisted version of love. “Red looks good on you.” He uttered, spinning her around like she was in a beautiful ball gown and he was her date to prom.

Y/N laughed, the thrill of killing taking over. Luke’s lips curved into a smile. He had never heard the sound of her laugher before. And he was already intoxicated. Her lips tasted like smoke and tangy metal and he pulled her closer.

THEY ARE NOT ONE OF US, NOT OUR KIND.

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impyssadobsessions · 1 year ago

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DPXDC Enemy of my Enemy is the Worse "Excerpts" (Part 1?) I have more Ideas

Okay I kepy thinking about the prompt Enemy of my Enemy is the Worse I made LOL- (gonna post excerpts.) Probably wont fully write this.. as much as I like to right now LOL. If this inspires anyone to write, go for it.

"So now what? Going to vivisect me? Experiment? Rip my molecules apart like how my-Mr. Fenton keeps telling me." "Unfortunately, no." Agent K grumbles. "And its dissection, not-" Agent O tries to correct. "I maybe dead-but I'm not THAT dead." Danny rolled his eyes, flashing them at the two men in white. He can't believe any of this is happening. Oh he wished he listened to Jazz.. or Sam or Tuck more. He pulled at his ghost proof bindings, them having him ridiculously buried in the restraints. "Actually, Mr. Phantom, is it? I wanted to talk." Another bald man walks in, his suit notably black. Danny raised his eyebrow unimpressed, "What? Is it the Guys in Black and White now? Not that I'm against it, I'm all for equality, but it does seem a little off brand. I'm guessing the bleach bill is getting too high." Agent O was about to speak out- when the guy in black raised his hand to silence him. This guy only looked slightly amused, which gave Danny the creeps. "Of course not. That'd be ridiculous, though I'm not against inclusivity either. I'm Lex Luthor, and it is my recent interest in ghosts that had allowed the GIW to reach its full potential. " "So another annoying billionaire. Great."

"So you know of me? Perfect, then we can keep this simple. In truth, I am only interested in one ghost in particular." "We can capture him without involving ourselves with this scum-" "This GHOST has not only evaded my notice for YEARS, but has been stealing very valuable technology that would go beyond NASA's comprehension. Though I don't doubt your expertise, it has not come without notice that this particular ghost is seen the most-" Lex flicked his eyes down at Phantom. "With you." Agent K and O unrolled paper from their suits to reveal a picture of Plasmius. "The Wisconsin Ghost." - "Plasmius?!" Danny spoke same time the Agents did. Lex smirked at the Agents then down at Phantom. Danny took a moment to register what was going on before busting out laughing. "Really? What makes you think I'm buddy buddy with Plasmius? He's a total fruitloop and honestly- not surprise. He steals blueprints from my p---Dr. Fentons all the time." "You steal their items as well, if we recall." Agent K raised a brow. "Well-I- Just because- YOU USE THEIR BLUEPRINTS TOO!" "Enough. " Lex starting to sound annoyed, Danny felt like it was a win. Serves bastard right. Man did he hate billionaires. "I've observed your work in Amity Park. If I dare say you are quite similar to many of the masked vigilantes that plague this Earth. Even more heroic in my opinion." Danny was not biting at whatever trick Lex was pulling. Though he didn't miss the skip of his core at being recognized something other than a menace. 'He's lying to you.' he repeated in his head. Pulling on his bindings again to remember the real situation before him.

"That being said, I like you to do as heroes do and capture this criminal, then bring him to me." "Look, thanks for the compliment- but we both know I'm not seen as a hero. So why don't you quit the buttering 'cause I'm not interested in culinary and tell me what's in it for me. Even though I'm barely c-average on the best of days, I'm not dumb. I'm not doing this for free or just some lame you will be spared nonsense. Been there done that." Lex smirked again, "I'll grant you immunity from GIW and you can have your haunt back." "Wait? What?!" "But it took so long to capture him-" "IF you manage to capture Plasmius and bring him to me before GIW can." Danny glanced at the two agents as they puffed out their chests. Cocky. They really think they could capture Vlad? Then painfully reminded himself that they did catch him. "And if I don't agree?" "We DISSECT you and use you for very unethical and highly painful experiments that are legal on subjects like yourself." Agent K happily boast. "Riiiight." Danny clicked his tongue, "Add in that these guys are not allowed to be in a 50 miles radius from Amity and I'll do it." "No-" "Deal."

------------------------------------

Danny looped on back to the entryway as he finished swooping through every room of the manor. "Alright! Come on out Fruitloop! I know you're still here-" Just as Phantom floated down to land, he felt a hard punch in his face that sent him skidding across the room into the wall. "OOF" "Guess I should have seen that com...ming..." Danny rubbed his jaw, turning back to see who punched him. His eyes widening as he recognized the heroes he was facing. "Phantom. We're taking you into custody." "YOU CALLED THE JUSTICE LEAGUE ON ME?!" -----(Fight happens)--- Flash manages to hold Phantom, using his speeding molecules to keep Phantom from phasing through his grip. Danny gritting his teeth as the other heroes ready to capture him. Fine. If he can't phase through, he'll just phase in. Phantom uses his icy breath to freeze everything around them. Superman quickly uses his laser vision to melt the ice covering the room in mist, trying to keep themselves from being frozen. "Flash!" When the mist cleared the was no sign of him. Superman using his hearing to try and locate him- despite guarding his right side, he was kicked into the wall by Flash. Flash's eyes glowing bright green. "Well this is weird." -Proceeds to fight in Flash's body for a moment, until he gets knocked out of it. Danny's on his last legs, thinking he barely done a number on them (Not realizing he had been giving them quite a fight). Danny tries to reason again only to hear Amity Park doing great since GIW involvement. Still he isn't backing down. Even mentions Lex is backing them. He knows its only temporary peace if its really peace at all. Which he suspects is a big farce. Besides the portal still resides in Amity. GIW can't get a hold of that- portal. If he can't make them hear him out, then he'll show them why Vlad isn't just some victim. (Not realizing what Justice League may have already discovered) "Want to know why the number 2 worse billionaire is after Fruitloop?" standing up as the net placed on him burned and electrified him. It hurt so much, but he wasn't ready to quit now. Superman flew out in front of the others to block Phantom as Phantom tackled him. Phantom just uses rest of his strength to crash Superman through layers of floors til they reached the secret lab. Superman flinging Phantom into the other side of the room just as they landed, making him slam into a green tube, shattering it. The netting having dropped to the ground away from him. He coughed, shaking as a white ring dangerously popped around his waist shakily dancing, until Phantom sucked it back in. Not yet. The green ectoplasm from the tube soaking into his skin. His eyes widening as he saw what the green ectoplasm was from, jumping back with a disgust yell. He watched the clone fizzle out. "ALREADY? Really Vlad?" He shook off the creeps. "What is this?" "A Lab, du-UAHHHHHHH-" He found himself being spun around by Flash, and flung into the air where he was lassoed. Wonder Woman yanked on the rope tight, swinging him down into the opposite wall. He really was tired of being walled by them. Batman was quick to cuff him as Superman froze him in place. Danny raised a tired brow, unamused. "Are we chill now?" "No." "Thought so." ---bit more talking. Danny navigating his way through the truth of the lasso before using his wail as his last ditch effort to escape. Manages to escape through the portal as the lab collapses.

#danny fenton #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #justice league #crossover #fanfic #prompt #enemy of my enemy is the worse #lex luthor #danny phantom #dp crossover #writing excerpts

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megahologram · 5 days ago

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Unspoken truths | Rafe Cameron

part 2 coming soon :)

summary: when the reader is in love with JJ, interactions with a certain blue-eyed boy cause a change in the atmosphere

warnings: strong language

word count: 3.6k

You sat quietly on the hardened porch of the chateau, your eyes fixed on the flickering campfire in the distance. Your friends laughed and called out to one another by the shore, their silhouettes dancing in the firelight. But you seemed lost in your own world, your thoughts as vast and deep as the ocean. The cool evening breeze ruffled your hair as the waves crashed softly in the background, a gentle rhythm that matched the introspection in your gaze. It was a moment of solitude amid the chaos, a quiet pause under the shade of starlit skies.

Your eyes were fixed on his, watching his every move, the way he rushes his hands along his hair, messing it up in a way that makes her cheeks burn a slight shade of pink. The way he lifts the joint to his lips, the way he holds the can of beer and takes long chugs from it. Suddenly you watch as he sits on the hammock with her, pulling her in for a short gentle kiss on the cheek as he molts himself into her. They both laughed, cuddling and talking as their smiles went to their eyes. You patted at the empty porch step beside you, looking for the lost beer can as your eyes remained glued to them. Suddenly, you hear a slight cough, startled, you quickly divert your gaze away from JJ and Kie to the blonde girl behind you. She had two beers in her hand, her beautiful wavy hair flowing along the slight breeze and a sly smile on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt," she teased quietly, moving slowly to sit beside you on the porch, nudging your beer can aside to make room.

You remained silent, unsure how to respond, unsure of how much she had seen or how much you were willing to share in this moment.

She didn’t miss the way your eyebrows furrowed, noticing the deep thought in your eyes. You hated how easily she could read you—like your mind was an open book.

"How long have you known...?" she asked softly, her voice quiet but direct.

You turned your head, utterly confused, unsure of what she meant. Then she clarified, her voice barely above a whisper.

"...How long have you known that you love JJ?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening. It was as if the world around you slowed, the weight of her words hanging in the air. You glanced around—toward the firepit, then behind you to the empty house—making sure no one else was close. You turned back to Sarah, your voice barely audible.

"What are you talking about? I don’t like JJ like that."

Sarah rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Come on, Y/N, I've known you longer than anyone here. It's so obvious."

You stared at her, then back at JJ and Kie, still lounging in the hammock. Were you really that obvious? Who else knew?

"Don’t worry," Sarah continued, sensing your panic. "No one else knows. But you need to be more careful. It could’ve been John B or Pope who saw you staring at them like that."

You sighed, frustration building. Why did she always seem to read your mind so easily? You couldn’t help but smile wryly. "It’s getting kind of scary how you can read my mind like that, Sarah."

You both laughed softly, taking a swig from your beers. Then, the words slipped out before you could stop them.

"I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?"

Sarah’s eyes widened, her surprise evident. "No, why would you say that?"

"Only an asshole like me would fall for their best friend’s boyfriend," you muttered.

She shook her head, her voice firm. "You’ve known JJ longer than John B or Kie. You’re not a horrible person for having feelings, Y/N."

You closed your eyes, the familiar ache in your chest growing stronger. The pain never went away, not when you saw them together, laughing, happy. You told yourself you were wrong, that you couldn’t feel this way about JJ. Kie was your best friend, and you wanted nothing more than for her and JJ to be happy. But the pain—God, the pain was unbearable.

You felt Sarah shift in her seat, then pull you into a hug. You hadn’t realized you were crying until the tears fell onto her shirt.

"You won’t tell anyone, right?" you whispered, wiping the tears from your face.

"I’ll take it to my grave," she whispered back, holding you tightly.

The next morning, you found yourself standing on Ward Cameron’s boat, scrubbing away the remnants of the obvious party from the night before. Sarah had always hated the idea of you working for her dad, but Ward had a soft spot for you. He’d even offered you money more than once without expecting any work in return. Still, you were raised better than to accept handouts, no matter how tempting or how much you needed it. After plenty of back-and-forth with Sarah, you all agreed on a compromise: you would clean the Camerons’ fleet of boats for some extra cash. You didn’t need the money often, but once a week, you were happy to show up, put in the work, and feel proud of earning something that helped your family.

Your back was turned to the door, headphones in your ears blasting music, drowning out the faint creak of the floorboards behind you. Focused on picking up the last bits of trash, you moved methodically, unaware of the tall figure standing in the doorway. His shadow stretched across the floor, but you didn’t notice, too engrossed in your task. His dark eyes followed your every move, scanning you intently as he stepped forward with measured, deliberate strides. The sound of your own breathing and the faint hum of the music filled the air as he crept closer. Just as he reached the edge of the room, you spun around, instinctively gripping the broomstick like a weapon. With your heart pounding and adrenaline surging, you lunged toward the mysterious figure, ready to defend yourself against the unexpected intruder.

His hands grip the stick tightly, his eyes locked onto yours as he pulls it away from you aggressively, slamming it onto the floor. The loud bang makes you flinch, your gaze briefly shifting to the broom on the ground before returning to his piercing blue eyes.

Anger surges inside you, and without thinking, you shove his chest hard, making him step back slightly. "What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe? Who sneaks up on someone like that?"

He’s quick to grab your hands, stopping your movements. "It’s my fucking boat, I can do whatever I want," he says, his tone unnervingly calm compared to your harsh one. The calmness throws you off, leaving you confused.

You pull your hands away from his grasp, rolling your eyes. "Whatever," you mutter, grabbing the broom again and getting back to work.

A few minutes pass, and when you glance up, he’s still standing there, watching you. He hasn’t moved since your last confrontation, and the growing tension in the air only adds to your confusion.

Breaking the awkward silence, you mock him with a quiet tone, "Are you here to watch me sweep? Gonna point out every speck of dust I miss?"

He rolls his eyes this time, crossing his arms. "I couldn’t care less about that shit. I need your help with something."

You can’t help but laugh. "No, Rafe, I’m not jacking you off."

His expression hardens. "I’d rather die than have a pogue do that shit to me."

You smirk, rolling your eyes again. "How can a pogue like me possibly help the great Rafe Cameron?" Your mocking tone is enough to visibly annoy him, and you enjoy the sight.

"I need some coke." His voice drops to a quiet, careful whisper, and you notice him glancing around to make sure no one is near.

You raise an eyebrow, the amusement still in your smile as you open the mini fridge in the corner, grab a can, and toss it to him. "Why didn’t you just ask? Didn’t have to sneak up on me for that."

His grip tightens around the can, his hand forming a fist as he nearly crushes it. "Y/N, I don’t have time for these games. I’ve heard you on the phone with Sarah. You were talking about getting her some. I need to know if you can get me some."

You sigh, trying to stay calm despite the growing tension. "Listen, Rafe, even if I can, what makes you think I’m gonna help you?"

He’s quick to counter, his voice almost desperate. "I’ll pay you double. You won’t even have to work this job anymore."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Wow, you Cameron’s really think money buys everything, huh?"

Before you can say anything else, Rafe moves toward you in a flash. His hands land on your neck, and in an instant, your back hits the wall hard, the jolt of pain making you wince. His grip isn’t tight enough to choke you, but it holds you firmly in place.

You should feel scared, threatened, but the reality is, if he wanted to hurt you, he’d be choking you right now. Instead, you smirk, your words slow but steady. "You should be a little nicer to the person who could be your dealer, don’t you think?"

His hands slowly loosen, falling to his sides as his body stays pressed against yours. You watch his face carefully—he looks confused, almost as if he’s trying to figure out why you’re not scared of him.

"Fine," you finally say, while he takes a step back. "I’ll do it." you add, running a hand over your neck. "Just curious, though... why me?"

You watch him carefully, but his only response is to step back, his tone growing more serious. "Just know that no one, and I mean no one, can know about this. Especially not Sarah."

You nod, a knowing smile on your face as you turn back to your work. "Fine. Come by the beach tomorrow at sunset."

As he moves to leave, he suddenly stops, his voice cold. "He’s in jail."

You turn around, confused, about to ask when he adds, "...my dealer’s in jail."

Sitting by the shore, you watch the waves roll in, their rhythmic crash against the sand creating a soothing melody. The salty breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the faint scent of seaweed. Your fingers idly trace patterns in the cool sand as you lose yourself in the endless horizon, where the sky melts into the ocean in a dance of blues and silvers.

You’ve been sitting there for half an hour now, wondering if Rafe was just playing a joke on you. Why would Rafe Cameron come to you, of all people?

Suddenly, you hear light footsteps in the sand. You exhale a breath and stand up quickly, turning around. Your words spill out before you even see who it is. "You're half an hour late, Cameron. You better pay triple for th—" The rest of your sentence dies in your throat as your heart skips a beat.

Your eyes meet the familiar face of the blonde boy you’ve known all your life. You freeze, and your friends start making their way towards you, filling in the scene.

JJ looks at you, confusion furrowing his brows. “Cameron?” he asks, his tone filled with uncertainty. “Triple?” he repeats, his expression turning even more puzzled. “You waiting for Sarah, Y/N?”

You feel your eyes widen in panic, the pressure mounting in your chest. The whole group is now watching you, Sarah included, heading toward you. "Um... I-I thought you were Sarah," you stammer, cursing yourself inwardly. Smooth, Y/N, you think.

"Since when do you call Sarah by her last name?" JJ presses.

Fuck, why does he know me so well?

“Since forever, JJ,” Sarah chimes in, stepping in to smooth things over. “Now stop interrogating her.”

You mentally thank Sarah, who always had your back, no questions asked.

JJ watches you for a moment longer, as if trying to read the situation, but you force yourself to remain calm. Just when the awkward silence starts to eat at you, Kie saves the moment. “Come on, guys, we came here to get wasted!”

Everyone cheers and rushes to find a spot, the tension momentarily breaking.

As you walk, your phone buzzes in your back pocket. You pull it out quickly and check the message from Rafe.

Rafe: Thought I told you to keep this between us.

Y/N: What are you on about?

Rafe: Why the hell are all your pogue friends here?

Your breath catches in your throat, and you glance around quickly. The beach is almost empty except for your group, but then you spot Rafe’s jeep in the distance, parked out of view.

“What are you looking for?”

You jump at Sarah’s voice, immediately stuffing your phone back into your pocket. “Nothing. I just got a text from my mom. She wants me to help her with some chores around the house.”

“Are you serious? Just tell her you're with me. She loves me,” Sarah teases, giving you an easy out.

Your shoulders relax with relief, and you smile at her. “I know, but I haven’t helped her out in a while. I think I’m just gonna head home.”

Sarah’s smile fades a little, understanding your need to go. “Alright. You want one of the guys to drop you off? I can ask J—”

“NO!” The word escapes a little too quickly, and Sarah’s smirk is evident even in the night sky. “I mean... it’s alright. My place isn’t far, and I could use the exercise.”

Your phone buzzes again, but you don’t check it. You quickly send Rafe a text without reading his reply.

Y/N: Give me 5, I’m coming.

Sarah doesn’t question your odd behavior, assuming it's just about your mom needing you home.

“You ladies coming?” John B calls from a distance.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you shout back, waving. You give Sarah a quick hug, promising to see her soon.

You start heading toward the parking lot, but then you hear footsteps behind you, the sound of heavy breathing. Your eyes widen when you spot Rafe’s jeep in the distance. You don’t want anyone to see him just yet, so you quickly turn around with a smile, finding JJ right behind you.

“Hey, JJ! What’s up?” you say, trying to distract him from what’s really going on.

He slows down, panting slightly from catching up with you. “You okay, Y/N?” His voice is full of concern, his expression worried.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” JJ says, sadness creeping into his voice. “You don’t even come by anymore.”

The guilt hits you like a wave, and you feel your chest tighten as his words settle in. You hate seeing that look on his face, but the last thing you want is for him to get caught up in your mess.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I just have a lot going on,” you say coolly, forcing yourself to sound indifferent, even though the pain is bubbling beneath the surface. You know the only way to deal with this is to push him away, to stop these feelings before they spiral any further.

“But Y/N, I—”

“J, seriously, just stop, okay? Leave me be.” Your tone is sharper than you intend, but you can’t help it. You need him to back off.

He takes the hint. You watch as his face falls, disappointment and confusion mixing as he stares at you for a long moment. Without another word, he turns and walks back toward the others.

Sorry, JJ.

Once you knew he was at a distance, you quickly turned and made your way towards Rafe’s car.

You walked to the passenger side, placing your hand on the door handle. You yanked it open, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried again, frustration rising in your chest. The car was running, the music blasting from inside.

You knocked on the window, and after a few moments, Rafe slowly rolled it down. His blue eyes met yours, and for a long, uncomfortable moment, you just stared at each other.

“Just give me the shit and leave,” he muttered, raising his hands in exasperation, his eyes rolling.

You crossed your arms, annoyed. “I just left my friends for you. The least you can do is drop me home.”

Rafe laughed loudly, the sound sharp and almost out of place. It was the first time you’d ever heard him laugh, and it caught you off guard. “Not happening, sweetheart.”

His response only made your irritation grow. You had left your friends behind for him, and yet he was acting like you owed him something. But then again, this was Rafe Cameron. What else did you expect?

You smirked, leaning slightly closer to the window, your words dripping with sarcasm. “You ought to be nicer to your dealer, don’t you think?”

His face hardened, and you saw the annoyance flash in his eyes. His grip on the steering wheel tightened so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Fine, get in,” he snapped, his teeth gritted.

You couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. You opened the door and hopped into the passenger seat, feeling a small sense of victory.

As Rafe drove off, you prepared yourself for the usual chaos, but you were surprised to find something different. His car was spotless.

The backseat was empty, no crumpled paper or discarded wrappers, no signs of the chaos you had come to expect from someone like Rafe. Even the floor mats were pristine, free of dirt or sand. When you leaned in, the sharp, fresh scent of new leather hit you—something you had never imagined for his car. It was clean, almost too clean. As if, for once, he had actually made an effort to get his act together.

His eyes remained on the road, but you noticed the way he glanced at you, following your gaze around the interior of the car. “We won’t be using the back seat, even though I know you’re dying for it,” he teased, his tone lazy.

You rolled your eyes, the sarcasm clear in your voice. “I’d rather die than have a kook do that shit to me.”

You noticed the way his smirk widened, clearly amused by your mimicked words.

“So you and Maybank a thing or something?” His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, as though he was trying to hide something. “I saw him running after you like a desp—”

“He’s with kie,” you interjected quickly, cutting him off before he could say anything more. You pointed to the right, guiding him to make a turn. Without argument, he complied.

The car sank into an uncomfortable silence, the kind that made you regret even asking for a ride. Your gaze drifted toward the window, searching for anything to distract you from the tension—trees, houses, anything that could pull you away from the suffocating awkwardness.

Rafe’s eyes landed on you, though you didn’t notice. He watched the way you nervously bit your nails, the subtle tension in your shoulders. His gaze followed the breeze that tugged at your hair, ruffling it just enough to catch his attention. His eyes dropped lower, briefly lingering on the tooth necklace you wore—the same one he’d seen on Maybank. Then his focus shifted to your waist, where the slight glint of a belly piercing caught his eye. His gaze continued down to the arrow tattoo peeking out from beneath the hem of your shorts.

Finally, his eyes returned to your face. Your cheeks were faintly pink, your dark eyes long and unreadable, your lips tinted with a hint of gloss. You were beautiful, he thought

It was as if you could feel his gaze. Slowly, you turned your head, meeting his eyes. His blue gaze held yours, intense and unblinking. A shiver ran down your spine. Maybe it was because you’d caught him staring, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you—it made your nerves flare up, a familiar, uncomfortable feeling you’d only experienced once before from a certain untouchable boy.

“You should keep your eyes on the road,” you murmured, your voice soft, as if there were people listening in the car.

“I’d rather keep my eyes on you,” he replied, his voice suddenly deeper, almost unrecognizable.

The shock was mutual. You both froze, as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them. His face quickly shifted, clearly regretting his honesty, and he turned his attention back to the road, clearly uncomfortable with what had just been said.

You shook yourself out of the moment, realizing that you had just passed your house. “You just passed my house,” you said, pointing to the side of the road.

Rafe cursed under his breath, the disappointment clear in his voice. “Oh.”

Before you could respond, his tone shifted again, cold and demanding. “Can I have my shit now?”

You quickly dug through your pocket and handed him the package. He grabbed it without a second glance, reaching into the center compartment and tossing an envelope at you. “That’s yours.”

You opened the door and got out, rolling your eyes at his sudden change in attitude. As you walked away, you heard the car start up again, the engine roaring to life as he drove off.

Rafe let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t understand the shift in his behavior, the strange feeling he couldn’t shake. He had never acted like this before, and it made him uneasy. So, he decided then and there not to make any more conversation with you. The last thing he wanted was to admit how messed up he felt after spending time with you.

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malfoyswand · 2 years ago

Text

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

summary: your best friend, draco malfoy, plans a surprise to ask you to the yule ball.

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff

warnings: none, just soft draco :)

author's note: thank you to the lovely reader who requested this, it's my first request so i really hope i did this justice! also yes, i got a little inspired by that one gilmore girls episode with the 1000 flowers for the proposal lol

➪ masterlist | requests

"Mate, I think you're overthinking this."

Blaise Zabini reported his opinion of the matter, but Draco Malfoy barely comprehended a word he had spoken. The only things on his mind were (Y/N) and of course, the bloody Yule Ball.

If he was honest with himself, Draco was at least partially excited for the dance. He knew it was meant to be one of the greatest nights he may ever experience while at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure if he would. The dance was only a week away and somehow, Draco found himself without a date.

If anything, the Yule Ball was making him nervous.

"I'm not, Zabini!" He spoke quite loudly, then softened his voice as he realized students had looked their way. "This needs to be perfect, alright? This is (Y/N) we're talking about, you know how I feel about her."

Blaise couldn't help but sigh, with a smile on his lips as the two of them walked to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was quite a feat for Malfoy to tell Blaise that he had romantic feelings for his best friend, (Y/N). Blaise knew that Draco dreaded being seen as anything but tough to the world, the fact that a girl had this much control over his emotions spoke volumes.

"Exactly my point, Malfoy. She's been your best friend since first year, I doubt she would ever be disappointed or angry with whatever you come up with. Besides, she's just a girl. Just ask her to the ball like how you would ask a girl out on a date."

"Er.. well.." Draco began to speak, the hand that wasn't holding his books scratching the back of his neck. The two of them finally stopped walking besides the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Blaise's eyes widening as he tried to hide his laughter.

"You're telling me that Draco Malfoy has never been on a date before? Merlin!" His laughter echoed down the chamber, earning him a scoff and a playful shove inside the classroom by Draco. "Sorry, sorry. I just thought that with every other girl in this school begging to be your date to the dance, you would've taken at least one of them on a date." His voice was spoken quietly, careful that the other students wouldn't hear their conversation.

Draco shook his head as the two of them sat down in their seats, pulling out their books and parchment. "No. I've turned them all down. They're just not her, know what I mean?"

"You're down bad, mate." Blaise smirked slightly to himself, whispering the only advice he could really offer his friend. "Listen, girls like being asked out in a personal way. You know the kind of things (Y/N) likes, all you have to do is make it special and she'll be swooning."

"Right." Draco mumbled to himself as Professor Moody began to teach his lesson. However, he certainly wasn't thinking about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Instead, Draco glanced over to where you sat across the room. He knew you better than anyone, yet he had no idea how to ask you to the Yule Ball.

That was when the idea struck him. The new bag you bought last week caught his eyes, he noticed the way the bag had intricate floral designs sewn into it. A memory replayed in Draco's mind. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he wrote on a spare piece of parchment, folding it into a paper crane before sending it your way.

Your hands caught the paper crane, grinning as you knew exactly who it was from. You tried to ignore the way your heart seemed to skip a beat each time you saw one fly towards you. On the piece of parchment, it read:

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower tomorrow morning before breakfast? - D.M.

You lifted his gaze to meet his awaiting gray eyes, your head nodding before turning back to the professor's lesson. Draco did the same, but his mind was already running through a mental checklist on all the supplies he had to get to make his idea come to life.

The next morning, you woke up wondering why in Godric's name you decided to meet up with Draco this early in the morning. The sun was just starting to rise outside the window, and none of your other roommates were even awake. You groaned as quietly as you could, practically tiptoeing around the dorm bedroom to avoid waking everyone else.

As you brushed your hair in the girls' lavatory, you felt the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter around again. You cursed yourself under your breath as you tried your best to focus on your breathing.

Lately, being near Draco Malfoy has always made you more excited than you really ought to be. Of course, he was your best friend so you had always been excited. But now, even one glance at him caused a warmth to glow within your chest. The feeling was a foreign one.

As you walked through the castle towards the Astronomy Tower, that warm feeling in your chest arose again as you caught sight of him. He was pacing near the entrance door, mumbling as if he was rehearsing something. You cleared your throat as you walked towards him, Draco stopping in his tracks.

"(Y/N)." He spoke your name, his lips forming into a soft smile. "Thanks for meeting up with me, I know it's a bit early for you." His tone was playful, he knew you were not much of a morning person.

"About that, why so early in the morning, Malfoy?" You gently shoved his shoulder, he only laughed in response. He opened the Astronomy Tower door entrance, his hand indicating for you to step inside first.

"You will see."

You walked up the long set of stairs up the tower. You couldn't see the fact that Draco was a nervous wreck behind you, his hands having to wipe themselves on his slacks to remove the sweat from his palms. As much as you hated to wake up this early in the morning, you knew the views up from the tower would be gorgeous. Draco knew that the Astronomy Tower was, quite honestly, your favorite place to admire the landscape.

“Oh my..” Your body stopped in its tracks once the two of you reached the highest level of the tower. Your eyes couldn’t take in your surroundings fast enough it seemed.

It was as if every surface of the tower was covered in red roses. Somehow, someone must have placed hundreds of roses in vases, scattering them around almost every corner of the room. The light shining into the tower only amplified their beauty, it was as if each petal seemed to come alive as the sun continued to rise.

“D-Did you know these flowers were here?” You stuttered as you started to pace around the room slowly, your fingertips grazing upon almost every petal there was. Their beauty took your breath away.

“I did.” Draco bit his bottom slightly as he watched you, desperate to know your reaction. He couldn’t tell if you liked or hated them. “They’re for you, actually.”

Your eyes darted from the roses you were admiring to Draco, your body facing his. Although you were truly flattered, the idea of him doing all of this for you made your head spin with so many questions. You knew Draco Malfoy better than he may ever know himself, you had never seen him do anything this nice or extravagant for anyone before.

“You said a couple of weeks ago that you wish spring would come along so you can watch the flowers bloom again. Of course, it’s only December, as we can all see.” Draco answered your question, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he pointed outside of the tower. More snowflakes began to fall, covering the castle with even more snow.

“So, I thought to bring the flowers to you. And I only assumed you liked roses, from your bag.” His eyes went from watching the snowflakes outside to your bag that was decorated with tiny red roses around it. Since when did Draco notice something so mundane, like a new tote bag?

“I just.. don’t know what to say.” Your voice came out as a whisper. Him decorating the entire Astronomy Tower with roses, just because you said you missed the spring and summer flowers, was entirely insane. You couldn’t come up with the words, so all you could do was step forward to hug him tightly.

Within an instant, you felt Draco’s arms wrap around your waist, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He closed his eyes, smiling softly to himself out of relief and joy. He was relieved and happy that you had liked the surprise, but he knew what he must do, even though it terrified him.

“That’s not the end of the surprise.” He said as he slowly pulled away from the hug. All of a sudden, it was as the boy became aware of every heightened emotion he was feeling. “But I must do this properly..”

Your eyebrows raised as you watched him turn around, picking up one of the red roses from their vases. If you weren’t convinced you were dreaming at the moment, you would have sworn you saw a small bit of sweat on Draco’s forehead as he looked towards you.

“I-er..” He took a step forward towards you, any closer and your bodies would have made contact. With a deep breath to calm himself, he handed the rose to you. “Would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me, as more than just a friend?”

Your lips slightly parted as you took the rose from him. You had slowly been falling for your best friend for the past four years, but you had convinced yourself that the Slytherin Prince would never fall for you. For four years, you had thought that he would never settle for you, when every other girl in this school begged for him just to look their way.

Once you realized you had failed to give an answer, you closed your mouth and smiled in his direction. “I would love to, Draco.” You responded, stepping forward once more to close the gap between you two. You pressed your lips softly to his cheek.

When you pulled away, you realized that Draco’s cheeks were slightly pink as his eyes widened. You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the sight. Draco Malfoy was notorious for being the calm, collected one of the two of you. Seeing him as, essentially, a nervous wreck over you caused that warmth to be felt in your chest again.

“Who would have thought I could make Draco Malfoy this nervous?” You joked, attempting to calm his apparent nerves.

“Who said I was nervous?” He scoffed just as playfully, grabbing a few more roses to hand to you. You took them in your hands, smelling their pleasant aroma as you followed him back down the staircase.

“Malfoy, you were just as red as these roses.”

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prettypinkporkchop · 3 months ago

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Okay okay what aboutttt Paul x reader but reader is bi and Paul kinda gets jealous when she checks out other women🙂‍↕️ maybe little heated argument🤫

"I'm not shy, I'll say it! I've been picturing you naked!" You and Kim scream the lyrics to slumber party.

You love Paul more than anyone and anything. He is your soulmate, after all! But you're bi, which he totally accepts! He loves you, period. He doesn't mind you joking around about finding women attractive. Especially if they're celebrities, he doesn't care. But one thing has been bugging him. You're super flirty with Kim. She's straight, but you two just have that friendship. Paul doesn't get it. Also, when you guys go out and you see a pretty girl, you HAVE to tell her she's hot. Most girls do that to each other, right?!

Kim jumps on your couch with her phone as a microphone, "OOOH OOH OH OH OH SLUMBER PARTY!" She screams.

You laugh and admire her beauty. You two are interrupted when Paul and Jared walk into the house. Paul turns off the speaker and crosses his arms with a smile. "You two are something else." He shakes his head.

Jared grabs Kim off of the couch, putting her on the ground. "Did you guys have fun while we were out?" Jared asks.

You hug Paul, shoving your cheek against his bare chest. You nod your head at Jared and then look up at Paul. "I missed you."

He kisses your forehead. "I've missed you too, baby."

Kim and Jared get ready to leave the house. You grab onto Kim and hug her. She giggles and hugs you back. You give her a joking kiss on her cheek. "MWUAHHH!" You exaggerated.

She does the same to you and then jokingly pats your bottom. "Bye, bitch." She winks.

When they leave, you turn to Paul, who looks mad. "Is something wrong?" You step closer to him.

He surprises you by grabbing your arms and moving you out of his way, forcefully. He walks into the bedroom and you hear the door lock.

"Paul? What's wrong?" You knock on the door. You hear nothing come from the other side. "Paul, we can't fix it if you don't talk to me." You wiggle the doorknob.

The lock clicks, and Paul opens the door, glaring at you. "Get your ass on the bed, now." He demands.

You gulp and do as he says. You sit on the edge of the bed. He walks in front of you, fuming. His chest is heaving. You can tell he's thinking of what to say.

"Did you cheat on me with Kim while I was gone?" He asks.

"What?! Are you nuts?" You try not to laugh at how ridiculous he sounds.

"Don't fucking play dumb. You know I hate when you hit on other women. It makes me feel insecure. It makes me feel like you'd rather be with a woman. I've never seen you kiss Kim like that, and I've definitely never seen her touch you like that!" He screams his last sentence and picks up a vase that held your makeup brushes.

You want to cry. He's scaring you. You know when he lifts things while he's mad, he's going to throw it. "Paul, please put that down." You ask.

He scoffs and then tosses it at the wall. It shatters, and your makeup brushes go all over the floor. This set you off. You stand up and push his chest.

"Hey, I've never cheated on you! And you know what, fuck you for even considering that! Just because I like girls does NOT mean I want I want to cheat on you with one!" You scream.

You pushing him made him grab your shoulders and push you onto the bed, not hard. Just trying to keep your hands off of him. He's looking down at you.

"How else am I supposed to feel?"

"Paul, it's not fucking like that!" You squirm under him, kicking your feet. You try to get him off of you.

"I'm not letting you go if you're going to hit me." He warns.

"Pick up the glass, Lahote!" You yell in his face.

He let's you go, standing up and walking away.

You lay on the bed and start crying. You curl into a ball and sniffle. You hear him leave the house, slamming the front door. You just cry until you're asleep.

----

You finally get the courage to step out of the bedroom. You notice Paul is still gone. You check life360. Oh, he's at Sam's. You sigh and walk into the bathroom. It's always the first place you go to when you're upset. You get in the bath and sulk. But the warm water always helps.

You see on the sink, he had bought you relaxing bath oils. There's also roses. The lights are dim, and he set out your comfiest and favorite pajama set. You turn on the water, making your bath very warm.

After sitting in the bath for an hour or so, you get out and wrap a towel around you. You hear the front door open, and the phone on the sink goes off, life360 telling you Paul is back home. He knocks on the door. You stand still in front of the foggy mirror.

"Baby doll?" He asks softly.

"Hm." You say dryly.

He opens the door and walks in, standing behind you. "I am so sorry."

You shake your head and open your moisturizer, putting it on your face. His hands lift up your towel at the bottom, putting his hands on your bare waist. Your bare ass is out, and it's against him, but you can tell it's not in a sexual way. He just wants skin contact.

"I was on the phone with Jared. Him and Kim explained things to me. I understand now.. and I'm so sorry. I feel like an idiot. I understand it's just a girl thing." He chuckles at the end before saying.

You can't help but smile at him through the mirror at his immaturity. "Don't be goofy." You reply.

"I uh, also went to Sam's. This is embarrassing, but you should know. I felt so bad for yelling at you and holding you down. I asked Sam to punch me. I may or may not have been sobbing like a little bitch." He chuckles at himself.

You turn and face him. "Good. But I do want to apologize too for making you feel the way I made you feel. I only love and want you." You touch his cheek.

He smiles and places his hand above yours. But now, looking at his face. Uh oh. Here we go horny bastards.

You drop your towel. He looks down at you and then sucks on his teeth, moving his tongue. Within a swift movement, he grabs onto your throat. You lift your head up slightly and bite your lip. "Give me all you've got." You breathe out.

He slams his lips onto yours, kissing you with tongue all sloppy. He pulls away and bites your lip. He lifts you onto the counter by grabbing your ass. He kisses you again and then puts his fingers on your wet area.

The night was full of spanking, hair pulling, praising you, leaving marks all over you, making you finish over and over.

After that, you are breathless on the bed, so sensitive with bruises on your neck and thighs.

#twilight #embry call #jared cameron #jacob black #sam uley #seth clearwater #paul lahote #leah clearwater #twilight wolfpack #quil ateara #paul lahote x reader

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asa-do-your-thing · 8 months ago

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Among the ferns

18+ MINORS DNI Halsin x F!Reader 2.6k Warnings: SMUT, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, size kink, fluffy smut as always no proofreading no nothing this is for you bby :3 @foxyanon

As the night grew colder, your companions retired to bed one by one. All except for Halsin, who had made a promise to stay up with you. He didn't mind avoiding Lae'zel's loud snoring; he preferred talking with you anyways, and sleep wasn't coming easy for him this night.

“Tav, may I ask you something?” he asked gently, looking down at you with a small smile. The full moon illuminated the small clearing in the woods where you had set up camp and a soft breeze played with the undergrowth.

The fire that had once crackled and danced with life was now reduced to glowing embers, casting a warm, orange glow on Halsin's face. His eyes twinkled with curiosity and earnest sincerity, making them as captivating as the night sky above.

"Well, Halsin," you responded, cradling your cup of warm cider between your hands. "You can ask me anything." Your tone was light, playful even. This was not the first intimate conversation you’ve had with him, nor would it be the last.

His brow furrowed slightly under his tousled locks. "It's just..." he hesitated, looking slightly unsure of how to phrase what was on his mind.

You chuckled lightly to yourself, finding his uncharacteristic shyness amusing considering that he was normally so confident and outspoken. With his muscled frame and towering height, he was often mistaken for a brute by those unacquainted with him. But you knew better than most that there was a lot more to him than met the eye.

"Why have you never spoken about your romantic partners before?" he finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. A breeze rustled through the leaves overhead, adding a symphony of soft whispers to the stillness of the night.

A hush fell over you both as you considered his question. The forest around you teemed with life – crickets chirping in the underbrush, an owl hooting in the distance – yet all sound seemed distant as you pondered your answer.

"Truthfully?" You start, shifting your gaze from the dying fire up into the night sky, blushing gently. "I suppose that is because I've never… had a romantic partner before.”

The revelation hung in the air, ungraspable as moonlight. Halsin took a moment to truly absorb your words. His head tilted slightly, the glow of curiosity was now replaced with surprise. "You mean…" he stumbled over his words, a rare occurrence for him indeed, "You've never…?" He didn't need to spell it out; his meaning was clear.

You found yourself shaking your head in confirmation, your cheeks heating up. The confession had left you feeling lighter somehow, liberated even.

"I know it's unusual," you admitted, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your cider cup. The warm ceramic felt grounding against your skin amidst the otherwise ethereal atmosphere of the night.

Halsin, still overwhelmed by the revelation, defaulted to silence as he stared at you with intense concentration, as if trying to understand an enigma. His gaze seemed to penetrate beyond your skin through to the very essence of who you were. It was a gaze that could make anyone feel seen for perhaps the first time in their life.

The silence lingered but didn't feel oppressive; instead, it held a certain comforting intimacy that carried an odd tranquillity with it. Perhaps it was due to understanding that sometimes words were superfluous and that silence spoke volumes more than any spoken language ever could.

Finally, as if breaking free from a trance, Halsin shifted his gaze away from yours and stared into the almost extinguished fire. His fingers absent-mindedly picked up a stick and prodded at the glowing coals – it seemed like he wished to say something, but held himself back out of respect.

“Halsin, I… Look, it’s not like I have no desire for… it, it’s just that no-one ever, uh… invited me for…,” you stammered out and looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

"I see," he finally answered, his voice just above a whisper and filled with an understanding that you hadn't expected. He looked back at you, the light from the dying fire dancing in his eyes. “Well, under any other circumstance…” he trailed off, looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen before.

His gaze held yours as he continued, “I would have invited you for...” he paused as if searching for the right words, “a quick, intimate encounter.”

Your cheeks heated up further at his admission. The mere thought of it sent a jolt through your body, making your heart flutter.

"But," he quickly added, seeing your reaction, "given what you've revealed... I think I would be entirely satisfied sharing just an innocent cuddle." His words settled over your ears like a soothing balm, calming your anxious thoughts.

It was a simple offer — one of warmth and companionship without any expectation or pressure.

You felt a burst of adoration and gratitude for him. It was as if Halsin was offering to meet you at your pace, to hold space for you in a world that often demanded too much too soon. He understood, perhaps better than anyone else ever could.

“Halsin…” You couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your lips. The tension that had been building dissipated into the cool night air.

He smiled back at you then – not his usual mischievous grin but something far more genuine and tender.

Together, you sat in silence once more, the crackling embers providing a warm glow to your faces.

“Actually, I… uhm… wouldyouliketoteachme?”, you pressed out and immediately looked away, afraid that he would reject you.

“I mean, everyone’s asleep, you know this forest well, you are a gentle man and as far as I know you you are a very good teacher and I’ve liked you for so long and you’re good looking…,” you rambled, sure that your cheeks couldn’t heat up even more than they did in that moment.

Halsin blinked, taken aback by your sudden outburst. Then he laughed, a rich and warm sound that echoed softly in the quiet of the night. “Easy,” he said, his voice gentle yet laced with amusement, effectively cutting through your rambling. His gaze softened even further as he reached over and took your hand into his.

"Thank you for the compliments," he said, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles. His touch felt like a spark in the darkness, both startling and comforting at the same time. "And for trusting me enough to ask."

There was an earnest sincerity in his eyes that made you feel seen – really seen – for perhaps the first time in your life. It was as if he truly understood the depth of what you’d asked him. That he grasped how much courage it must have taken you to let down your walls and bare a part of yourself you’d kept hidden away for so long.

The silence that followed was pregnant with anticipation, each moment stretching on as you waited with bated breath for his response.

“Alright,” Halsin finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was somber now, filled with a level of gravity that reflected just how seriously he was taking your request.

“If this is what you want... If it’s something that feels right for you…” He paused to give you one last chance to change your mind. However, seeing no hesitation in your eyes, he simply nodded and continued, “Then yes, I’d be honored.”

A sense of relief washed over you at his words. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your chest - a wide smile spread over your cheeks and you hugged him, losing yourself in his warmth and scent.

Gently, he cradled your head against his shoulder, the rhythm of his heart a soothing lullaby as you relished in this newfound intimacy. It wasn't long before he scooped you up into his arms, rising from the bed of moss and ferns to carry you further into the forest. Your heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness as pine needles rustled beneath his feet, creating a symphony with the nocturnal creatures singing their songs.

The forest that had seemed so intimidating before now felt like a safe sanctuary under Halsin's guidance. He deftly navigated through the complex labyrinth of towering trees, guiding you through dappled moonlight that slipped through the rustling canopy above.

Eventually, he came to halt in a hidden glade awash with soft silver light. It was an enchanting spectacle - fireflies danced in the air while a gentle brook murmured in the distance, providing a harmonious backdrop to this still moment. Here, beneath the vast expanse of stars, Halsin laid you down gently on another bed made of moss and ferns.

Halsin hesitated for just a moment before beginning to remove his clothing, piece by piece. His movements were unhurried and deliberate, affording you enough time to adjust to each new revelation of skin and muscle underneath. He was beautiful in all senses of the word – not just physically but in his vulnerability too.

Once he stood undressed before you, it was his turn to ask for permission. His voice was low as he asked, "May I?" His respect for your comfort evident in that simple question.

“Y-yes, you may,” you muttered and gasped as you felt his hands working on the laces of your dress and the feeling of his lips on the nape of your neck. “You may do anything you wish, as long as you… are gentle,” you whispered, drawing in a big breath as he bared your breasts, gently tracing his hands over the gentle curves.

"Yes," he murmured against your skin, "always gentle." His voice was a soothing rumble that reverberated through you, making your heart flutter in response. His hands were warm against your cool skin, his touch so tender and careful it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

He guided you to recline on the mossy bed, his strong hands supporting your back as you did so. The moss was surprisingly soft underneath you, nature's own cushioned bedding. Halsin continued to worship your body with his hands and mouth, his every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You gasped as he traced kisses down your neck, over the valley between your breasts, and then lower still.

You gasped and blushed at the sensation and bit your lip as you felt his big finger gently slipping between your wet folds. Gods, it felt so good, and the longer you looked at him pleasuring you through half-closed eyes, you felt your inner fire burning hotter and hotter. Everything about him drove you wild. From the way he loomed over you, to his strong, yet gentle hold on you, not to mention the way he caressed you - it drove you to the brink of insanity.

“Let go, my love… moan for me, my sweet thing… let nature hear your call…,” he muttered, alternating between rubbing your pearl, licking and kissing it gently.

Gasping, you struggled to breathe as the pleasure coursed through you like wildfire. You'd never felt anything like this, and it was all too much and not nearly enough at the same time. His touch was electric, igniting every nerve ending in your body and sending sparks of ecstasy ricocheting along your spine. Moans tumbled unbidden from your lips, mingling with the chorus of the forest around you.

"Halsin," you whimpered, arching your back off the cushiony moss beneath you. "Oh gods, Halsin... it feels... it feels..." Words failed to do justice to the sensations he evoked within you.

He chuckled against your damp core, sending a shiver cascading down your spine. "That's it, darling. Let it out. I want to hear every little sound that escapes those pretty lips of yours."

Emboldened by his words, you did just that - moaning louder as he continued his ministrations. His tongue flicked and swirled over your most sensitive spots, teasing and taunting you until you thought you might combust from the aching need building within. Every stroke of his tongue or caress of his fingers seemed to send you higher and higher still, until you were certain your heart would beat right out of your chest.

"Halsin... Halsin... I... I'm..." You panted, but could not finish your sentence, as a huge wave of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out in unadulterated bliss as your body shuddered and arched beneath his touch. Halsin continued to caress and kiss you, milking every last shudder and gasp from your body until at last, your cries subsided into satisfied pants.

“You did perfect. Now… are you ready for me? Or should I let you rest?”, he asked sweetly, pulling himself out from between your thighs and up to you.

It felt like you were dreaming - and could do nothing else but to shake your head and hold your chest, gazing wantonly up at him. “No, no rest, I… I need you, I want you, but… are you sure that it is going to fit?”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Oh, my love, I've imagined this moment for so long... and I assure you, I will fit. Just…” He leaned in to replace his words with a fiery kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he gently slipped his hardness between your wet folds.

It felt like he was right - it stung for a second, but it was a perfect fit, and he filled you up completely as he entered you inch by inch, stretching you to the limit, even though he was still holding back from plunging completely into you. "Feel how perfect we fit together?", he whispered into your ear, gently kissing the top of your head.

"Y-yes," you panted, arching your hips against his. "Halsin... please... don't stop." You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him onward.

He obliged, slowly and steadily, surging into your depths as if he had all the time in the world. The sensation was unlike anything you'd ever experienced - a delicious friction of stretching and heat that bordered on pain but was oh so exquisite. His every movement sent waves of pleasure crashing through you anew, his length hitting places inside you that had never known such stimulation before.

As he rocked his hips against yours, a primal, animalistic growl escaped his lips, and his grip on your hips tightened just enough to leave marks. You didn't mind, though - if anything, it spurred you on further. Your hands tangled in the moss beneath you, nails clawing at the ground as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

"You feel so good... so tight... around me," Halsin groaned between gasps, the pace of his thrusts increasing marginally with each breathy moan that escaped your lips. "I... I've wanted this... for so long... You, bouncing under me… in the woods…"

The way he spoke to you - so guttural and raw - was enough to send you over the edge a second time. Your climax washed over you like a tidal wave, hot and consuming, leaving you reeling in its wake. "Halsin!" You cried out his name as your body clenched around him, contracting around his hardness and milking him for all he was worth.

"Gods...," he panted, his thrusts growing erratic as he too lost control. "I... I can't... much more... So tight…"

With one final, earth-shattering thrust, he stilled inside you, his essence welcomed within your depths as you both shuddered through the climax together. Halsin collapsed atop you, his breathing ragged in your ear.

"That…" He finally managed between breaths. "Was… better… than I ever imagined."

You smiled up at him, your insides still convulsing and hugged him tight, not minding that he squished you under his large, shuddering body. “You’re… you’re a good teacher. The best.”

#asas fics #halsin #halsin smut #halsin fluff #halsin bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction

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enigmatist17 · 2 months ago

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Dot was not expecting to come home to an ambulance in her driveway during a quick break mid-shift, the car tucked just out of view of the main road. The ranger hopped out of her truck and approached it, clearing her throat while crossing her arms over her chest.

"I have about twenty minutes before I need to return to work, so talk to me now or wait for me to return." There was a moment, before the familiar sound of a Transformer shifting to its root mode filled the air, the ambulance standing a fair height above the human. "Welcome."

"Apologies, wasn't expectin' to get in so early." The mech had a gruff voice as they knelt down, extending a servo. "Name's Ratchet, don't think we had the pleasure of meetin' on the field."

"Dot Malto, I've heard of you." The ranger relaxed a little as she rested a hand on his palm in greeting. "Heavens know how many stories I've heard from Wheeljack and Bumblebee."

"Wheeljack is here?" Ratchet seemed a little surprised as he pulled his limb back, standing with a slight grunt. "That is...nice to hear. Haven't seen much of anyone these days, not with G.H.O.S.T tryin' to hunt us down, or had been anyways."

"Trust me, that's not something you need to worry about anymore." Dot sighed, glancing up at him. "I'm assuming you're here about what happened a few weeks ago?"

"Among other things." His optics dimmed for a moment at the memory of dying so suddenly, only to be revived with the knowledge that something had ripped his Spark from him for just shy of fifteen minutes. It hadn't taken him long to wrangle coordinates from Bumblebee once the initial panic had subsided, knowing Prime wouldn't be too far from the scout, and would hold the answer about what the frag had happened.

Ratchet wasn't scared of many things, but that had rattled his processor to the core.

"Well, I can start by introducing you to the kids, they're going to love meeting one of the "super ultra famous" Autobots." Dot smiled sympathetically, pointing toward a barn further into the premises.

"Strange, most humans don't let their sparklings live outside their home." Ratchet raised an optic ridge, motioning for her to step forward and trailing behind the ranger.

"Oh, my kids do live in the house; these are where my other kids live, the ones who don't quite fit." This had the medic further intrigued, Dot opening the door and whistling down the open large grate in a far corner. "Hey kids, why don't you come on up and say hello to someone!"

Ratchet felt his Spark nearly stop again when he was suddenly bombarded with five wide-open EMF fields, brimming with emotions so openly it almost made him fall to his knees.

No, no, this can't be what he thinks it is.

The first mech to come up from the underground area was so small Ratchet nearly thought they were a Minicon, the little femme zipping up into the air with an excited sqeual.

"Ohmigosh omigosh it's Ratchet!" The medic barely had time to register what she was saying before a blue and white mech ran up into view, his eyes wide.

"Mom, how come you didn't tell us he was coming!" Ratchet looked down helplessly at Dot, who just smiled and shrugged as three more sets of pedes hurried up from the underground area.

"I didn't know, sweetheart." Ratchet remained silent as what looked like a Dinobot, a lanky bot with glowing eyes reminiscent of an owl, and the tallest of the set, sporting a grin and thrumming with a particularly powerful EMF, gathered around him with overlapping questions.

Sparklings....honest to Primus sparklings were around him, a sight Ratchet never thought would come to pass.

"W-When were you all created?" The question nearly gets lost in the din, but Dot silences the bots by merely crossing her arms.

"A few months ago, when Mo and Robbie found the Emberstone and helped make us!" The petite femme smiled, hovering within his sight. as Ratchet stared.

"I see." Ratchet smiled as he knelt down, reaching into his subspace to pull out some tools, along with five glowing purple sticks. "Well, I'm going to assume you've never had a proper medic give you an exam, so I'd like to start with that."

"Do we have to?" The tall femme whined, eyeing Ratchet in slight discomfort. "Robbie and Mo hate the doctor, they say it's kinda scary sometimes."

"I assure you this won't hurt a bit, I've been doing this a very long time." Ratchet held out the sticks to the children. "Why don't you give me your names, and we'll go one at a time. Lieutenant Malto, you're more than welcome to observe."

"Just call me Dot, and I might do that for the first kiddo before I get back to work." Nodding, the medic finally pulled out a scanner before motioning for the bot closest to him. "You're up, come on."

"I'm Jawbreaker." Ratchet scanned him with what he hoped was a gentle smile, the young bot nervous yet curious.

"It's nice to meet you, Jawbreaker; like you heard, I'm Ratchet." The older bot frowned at the readings on his scanner before his optics went wide in alarm. Jawbreaker smiled nervously when Ratchet leaned forward with his scanner again, the readings the same as the first scan. "How are you operating?! I've never seen energon levels this low!"

"Oh that's 'cause we don't need energon, w-we drink magic cave water?" The small dinobot smiled, Ratchet just staring at the youngling before a trilling noise escaped him, unable to vocalize any response as he merely pressed one of the purple sticks into Jawbreaker's servos.

"Off you go." Dot looked amused and concerned at Ratchet's silence, Nightshade moved forward to take Jawbreaker's spot. He's just finishing up with Twitch when there's the familiar roar of Bumblebee's engine, the bot transforming the second he was close enough to the house, whistling a tune as he headed for the barn.

"Oh kids, I brought a surpi- Ratchet?!" The scout froze before throwing himself to the side, narrowly missing the wrench thrown at him.

"You SLAGGING PIT SPAWN!" The medic nailed him right to the face with a second wrench, stomping over to the stunned bot with a hiss. "You have been with SPARKLINGS and didn't think to CALL ME?!"

"W-Wait, I thought you knew!" Bumblebee winced as Ratchet stood over him, optics flashing in irritation. "I've been uncover with them, a-and Optimus would have told you, right?"

"Oh ho ho don't you dare try and distract me, although he will answer me later." The medic sneered, before letting out a long vent and offering a servo. "It's good to see you, kid."

"...it's great to see you too, I didn't know you were even on Earth." Ratchet easily pulled Bumblebee up onto his pedes, grumbling lightly when he was yanked into a hug. "I have missed you, though I didn't miss your wrench sharpshooting skills..."

"Comes with the package." The older bot smirked, the five younglings watching the two from their spot by the barn with wide optics. "They're in good health, despite not being properly checked over by a professional."

"I tried my best?" Bumblebee grinned, doorwings fluttering in delight at the backhanded praise. "Ratchet, why are you here?"

"I want to know what happened a few mega-cycles ago."

"Oh...right." The scout glanced toward the younger bots, offering a servo when Twitch rubbed one of her arms with a guilty look. "Who wants a hug?"

"We do!" Ratchet stepped back to allow the five young- terrans all but tackle Bumblebee with a group hug, his spark practically melting at the sight.

"Can we hug you too, Mr. Ratchet?" Hashtag asked, the older bot chuckling as he placed his data pad in his subspace.

"I suppose I could agree to that." It was Bumblebee's turn to laugh when one of his mentors was suddenly besieged by five eager terrans, sending him to the ground with an amused look, reminding the younger bot of times long past. Ratchet would find himself agreeing to spend the night later on in the day, unable to say no to the puppy-eyed optics that Thrash and Hashtag wielded with deadly accuracy, as well as Bumblebee's not-so-silent pleas for adult interaction of the Cybertronian kind. Spending an entire evening catching up and talking about just about every topic either bot could bring up was...nice, and Ratchet decides the moment when the scout drifts off to recharge that it might be a good idea to stick around for a little while.

Optimus was going to get one hell of a lecture first, however.

#personal #transformers #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #tfe bumblebee #jawbreaker malto #dorothy malto #ratchet #twitch malto #thrash malto #thrash metal #nightshade malto #hashtag malto

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arcadia-of-pluto · 4 months ago

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"Pragma(tic) Love" || Xavier (M)

Pragmatic; meaning "dealing with things sensibly and realistically".

Pragma; one of the eight ancient Greek words for love, meaning "an enduring type of love". A passionate and committed form of love.

Paring(s); LADS Xavier x reader

Word count; 12,398 (GEEZ–)

Rating; 18+ for mature and sexual context; and swearing

Themes; childhood friends to lovers, unintentional flirting, reader isn't an idiot (sometimes), dumb humor, inspired by the webtoon "Childhood Friend complex"

Notes; some dumb humor, Xavier being out of character, kissing, poorly written sex (I haven't written smut in so long), vaginal penetration (finger and p), I could've done more but my Tumblr mobile app is lagging at 12k words–

Characters included; Tara, Jenna, Rafayel, Yvonne, Greyson (mentioned), Jeremiah, anyone else is just random names for other characters!

|| a part of the "tropes d'amour" mini-series ||

|| Main Masterlist ||

You are a rather naive and impulsive woman, no one would argue with that. You knew what you wanted and you were never embarrassed to admit that. Always head-strong and never thinking about the consequences of what comes afterward. You have, also, never been in a relationship, but you can remember the first time you really wanted to be in one.

It was a few years back when you were in middle school. Fifteen and highly impressionable. You were staying the night at a friend's house with a couple of other girls and they decided to have a group viewing of some x-rated videos. Even at fifteen, this was something you never thought of so as you watched with a mix of horror and intrigue, your friends eagerly laughed and made different comments about how hot the actions in the videos were. You, however, were more focused on the kissing scenes. You enjoyed how passionate they looked and you wondered if a kiss would be as nice as it looked. To this day, you barely remember the rest of the video. Only the kiss scene that left an impact on you and made you wish for a relationship, just to have a kiss like that.

Though, back in the present day at twenty-one, you had bigger things to worry about. Like college work and the new gossip your friends had every week.

For example, today, you and your group of three other women were all sitting down in a coffee shop, talking about the different guys at your college. “Oh my god, have you seen how hot Rafayel is? We have two of the hottest guys at our college and I don't see how neither of them are dating anyone,” Yvonne says with an over-dramatic sigh as she tilts her head back. “If I'm honest, their hands are what I'm more interested in,” Jenna murmurs under her breath with her chin resting on her hand. “Hands?” You take a look down at your own as you ask and Yvonne slaps her hands down on the table. “You don't know about hand sizes?! If they have big hands they have a big d–” “Yvonne, we'll be kicked out if you're too loud.” Tara puts a finger to her lips as she looks around anxiously.

“Alright, alright.” Yvonne pouts and sits back down. “Anyway, as I was saying, our college has two of the hottest guys I've ever seen. I'm surprised none of them are dating someone. I'd definitely volunteer in a heartbeat.” “So…I was going to ask this earlier, but who's the second guy?” You ask and tilt your head to the side. “Xavier, of course!” Yvonne looks at you as if you're crazy. “You know, the 6 foot something hunk who is in the engineering department?”

Tara covers her mouth with a hand to hide her laughter as your group leaves the café with your drinks in hand. “Xavier? Are you serious?” You scoff with a hand on your hip and your drink out to the side. “Doesn't he give off, like…delinquent vibes or something? You should really have higher standards.” “Y/n…” Yvonne trails off, pointing at something behind you and you raise a brow, “What's wrong? Can't I talk shi–” You feel pressure on the crown of your head and when you look to the side, you see someone dip their head down to take a sip from your straw. “Ugh, this tastes like shit. You're still drinking crap like this?” You spot the silvery-blonde sticking his tongue out in disgust before you groan and hit him on the head.

“Xavier, what have I told you about sneaking up on me!?”

As the two of you yell and pull at each other's hair, Yvonne takes a nervous glance toward Tara. “They…” “They've been friends since childhood,” Tara says with a small laugh, rubbing the back of her neck.

You don't exactly keep it a secret that you're friends with Xavier. The two of you are just from two completely different departments. His being engineering and yours in liberal arts. You did, however, want to start putting some distance between him since no guys approach you. They always assume you're dating Xavier, even if you correct them, so if you ever wanted a relationship you'd have to distance yourself from him…but that's easier said than done since your mothers were friends.

Your mothers were pregnant at the same time, having met during a pregnant yoga class and coincidentally moved in next to each other, so naturally you and Xavier were practically raised together. You’d even go as far as to say he's like a brother to you.

Back in class, you're utterly exhausted. You rake your hand through your hair with a sigh, holding your face in your hands until you feel someone tap your shoulder. You look up, confused, before you smile up at him, “Hey, Rafayel. What's up?” “You seemed a bit upset, so I was gonna ask if you needed help with something,” the purple haired upper-classman says, his head tilting to the side. “Actually…I need some research files for our essay and I don't have nearly enough time to get everything together.” You collect your things and stand up from your chair, “but I'll figure it–”

“You can borrow my USB,” Rafayel offers, slinging his back over his shoulder. “We'll just have to stop by my dorm.” “Really? Thank you so much. You're a life-saver!” you clasp your hands together. Your facial expression looks a lot brighter, compared to a few seconds ago. “Can we go now? I'm really excited to get started on this project.”

The two of you leave your classroom and head off to his dorm. You were done with your classes for today, but you were a little worried you'd be bothering Rafayel during his off time. Though, it doesn't seem that way since he offered to help you and you don't want to overthink anything.

“I'm sorry if it's a bit messy.” He unlocks his door before opening it. A…bit messy was an understatement. His floor is littered with paint tube lids, a few stray clothing items, a colour pencil or two, there's a spot on the rug from a charcoal pencil. It's extremely messy, but it's the room of an artist so you weren't really sure what to expect. As you step deeper into the room, you're unsure of where to sit until Rafayel points to a spot in front of his bed. “You can sit over there. I have a few USBs so it might take a little time to find it.” He chuckles, seemingly unfazed at how dirty his room really is.

You tentatively sit down and hug your knees to your chest as Rafayel sits next to you with a handful of USBs. As he looks through them, your eyes can't help but be drawn toward his hands. His…hands..That reminds you of something. What was Yvonne trying to say earlier?

“If they have big hands, it means they have a big di–” A big…oh.

Rafayel's hands were big…

You pause your train of thought with wide eyes. “Y/n?” The upper-classman asks, waving his hand in front of your face. You blink a few times, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you quickly stand up and grab a random USB. “Thank you so much, Rafayel, but I've got togonowbye!!”

You don't even give him a chance to respond as you run out of his room. You pull out your phone to quickly shoot a few texts to Xavier.

🩷: “HEY I HAVE A QUESTION”

: “ANSER ME”

: “WHAT DOES IT MEAN IF A GUY HAS BIG HANFS??”

:“XAVIER, I SWEAR TO GOS”

Your stupid, dumb, idiot friend isn't responding, so you decide the best thing to do is barge into his house. You take a few labored breaths, having run all the way through his house and to his bedroom door, before you enter without even bothering to knock. It's not like he could be doing something important, right? Nahhh.

The moment you step into his room, you notice two things. One, he had your messages with your profile picture up on his computer monitor…and two, he has his left hand wrapped around his dick.

“Why the hell is my picture on screen!?” You blurt out the first thing you can think of in your panic as you quickly look away with a red face.

“It's not–” Xavier quickly turns away from you before noticing that your picture was, indeed, on his screen. He scrambles to his feet to fix his pants before words spill from his lips, “It's not like that! I was just…getting off and you were getting on my nerves from all your messages and I noticed you had a new profile picture, and I wasn't even looking at your picture when I was doing it anyways!” His face and ears are a deep shade of scarlet, and you shoot him a scrutinizing look.

“Look, I'm not going to judge you but…” Your lip curls up as you can't decide whether you're disgusted or flattered, but the expression quickly leaves your face as you notice his eyes watering. Is he…crying?

“I already said it's not what you think…”

For the first time in forever, your mind was dead silent. You were a little too focused on the redness in his face and the desperation in his eyes. You needed to leave. Now.

“I'll talk to you later, but seriously don't forget to lock the door next time!” You say your words way too fast, almost unable to understand them yourself, and dart out the house as fast as you can. You only stop once you made it to the gate outside, holding a hand to your chest with reddened cheeks. What the hell just happened?

The next day in class, you're beyond zoned out. You're not sure what to think of the whole situation…but you clearly saw it. His…well yeah. You could faintly picture his hand, fingers that could just barely wrap around his girth-

You smack your hands against your cheeks, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “Jesus, Y/n! Are you okay?” Tara asks with a small laugh, putting a hand on your shoulder. You groan and tilt your head back before quickly turning to face her. “Okay, so I have a…story. Alright? This isn't about me. It's about a uh– a friend.” “Uh-huh…and what happened with this friend?” Tara raises one of her eyebrows as she looks around the classroom.

“Actually, let's have this conversation outside.” She stands up, picking up her bag before she takes your hand.

Once outside, you sit down on a bench and take a deep breath. “Okay so, this friend of mine…she has a friend she's known for a long time and she ended up seeing his..” you trail off, not wanting to say the word, but you have to say something to make any sense, “..his junk. She saw his stuff on accident and there was a photo of her on his screen-”

“Wouldn't it just make sense to apologize and act like nothing happened?” Tara questions, honestly a bit confused since it seems like it would be common sense to just apologize about it. “But my picture was on the screen. Wouldn't that mean he's into me or something?” You don't even notice your slip up and Tara doesn't care since she already knew this story was about you. “It could mean that, but how about you just hear him out and apologize?” The woman rubs her temples. She loves you to death, but sometimes you can be a little dumb.

“I guess I could do that– hold on, I'll be right back!” You spot Xavier in the distance, quickly putting on your bag before you chase after him. “Xavier!” You shout and the silvery-blonde turns to look at you for a moment. Then, he takes off running as well. “Hey, I need to talk to you!” You yell after him, continuing the chase but you were honestly tired at this point. He clearly wasn't slowing down anytime soon. “Why are you running?” You feel sweat dripping down your temple and he shoots the same question back at you, “Why are you running??”

“Because I need to talk to you!” Your breath was coming out in heavy pants and wheezing, so you probably look a bit crazy at this point. “Well I don't!” “Dude, stop–” As you chase after him you bump into another student. His cold brew coffee spilling all over the front of your white t-shirt. You notice Xavier immediately stops in his tracks.

“Damn it–” You curse under your breath before you turn toward the male student, “Hey, I'm sorry about your coffee!” “It's fine, what about your shirt? You could just give me your number and I could get it washed..” His eyes were clearly trained onto the front of your shirt and you made the horrifying realization that your black bra is visible. Suddenly, a bag is pressed against your chest and you feel a hand grab your wrist. Xavier sighs and begins tugging you behind him as he walks, “Let's go.”

“Go where?” You ask, clearly confused and he shakes his head, squeezing his hand around your wrist, “To the sport's center.” “Dude, you're hurting my hand!”

Xavier takes you to the sports center's locker room and is looking through his locker. “So..what're we doing here?” You stand in the corner with his bag still clutched to your chest. You can hear him let out an audible sigh, “Do you want to walk back to your dorm with your shirt like that?” “You could've just let me borrow your bag..” you murmur with a pout, but Xavier runs a hand through his hair, “You can see everything through the back too, idiot.”

“Thanks..” You finally say after a moment of silence before you set his bag on the floor to look at your shirt. You tug at the soaked fabric with a finger, your nose wrinkling up at the cold feeling. You should probably take it off before it gets your bra and skin all sticky..You pull your shirt half over your body, but then pause because you realized you almost took your shirt off with Xavier in the room–

The two of you have been together practically since the womb, so you couldn't even count how many times you bathed together when you were younger. Key word: younger. But now??

“Hey– don't turn around, Xavier. I already took my shirt off.” You sheepishly laugh, keeping your soiled shirt over your chest as you notice his ear tips turning red. “I– why–” But he can't finish his sentence because someone comes into the room. You backpedal into a locker to hide and listen to Xavier tell the other student that he'll put the guy's stuff away. Once he shoos the guy out, you assume he locks the door behind him.

“Y/n, where'd you go?” Xavier calls out as he walks back to where you are and you kick open the locker with an embarrassed smile, “I'm…stuck.” You hold your hands out for help while keeping your legs against your chest. Your so-called friend laughs at your predicament, about to make fun of you, but then his gaze flits from your face to the swell of your breasts. He quickly shakes his head and clears his throat. “Geez, you really are something,” he sighs before grabbing your hand to pull back with all his strength.

“Ouch, Xavier, that shit hurts– woah–!” You're suddenly flying out of the locker and you land on top of Xavier with your hands on either side of his head. Just as you're about to get up, you hear the door knob jiggling and you jerk your body down as if trying to hide. “Oh shit– you locked the door, right, Xavier?” You ask in a panicked whisper, before realizing you could feel heavy breaths against your bare skin. You turn your gaze down and your eyes widen as you see Xavier's face buried in-between your breasts.

You quickly scoot backwards with your hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry, Xavier…”

Your best friend runs a hand down his red face with a long, drawn out sigh. “It's fine! No, really, it's fine.” He waves his hands before he tosses a shirt at your head. “Now, put that shit on.” The shirt smacks you upside the head and a hiss slips from between your teeth. “Well, I take back my apology now.” You murmur under your breath as you pull his shirt over your head. Though your gaze is drawn to his toned stomach. His shirt must've rode up during the fall and he never pulled it back down. That reminds you of something…

When you and Xavier were in middle school, you remember an old classmate joking about the two of you dating. While you both reacted in disgust, you clearly remember Xavier saying he'd never see you as a woman and then when the friend asked, “You never know. What if one day, you start feeling like she is?” Xavier replied with, “If that happens, I'm going to take my balls off. Both of them.” You were clearly disgusted by this and, albeit, a little offended so you spit back a jab of your own, “I’ll shave my head.” “Dude, I put my balls on the line!” He laughs, “You gotta match me. Or else…are you afraid you'd fall for me?” “You son of a bitch!” You grab Xavier by his hair, “You really think I'd fall for you when you find so many ways to piss me off?? The only emotion I feel for you is rage. You hear me!?”

“Y/n?? Yo, earth to Y/n.” Xavier waves a hand in your face and you shake your head before a book, from the shelf you're leaning against, falls to smack you atop the head. You rub your head as you stand up, then you clear your throat and hold your hands behind your back. “Hey Xavier?” “Yeah?” He glances toward you with one brow raised and you sigh, “I wanted to apologize for leaving like that yesterday. It wasn't fair to not hear you out and to make assumptions on my own like that. That’s what I came to tell you.”

After a few moments of silence and a shocked expression from Xavier, you can't take it any more and you start hitting him on the back, “Seriously, what's gotten into us? All this awkwardness between us just doesn't feel right! Let's forget the whole thing and go back to being normal again, yeah?” With each hit, Xavier says an “ouch” but you keep at it with a nervous laugh. “Anyway, bye!! I gotta go work on a project.” You leave him behind with a dumb expression on his face.

Once back in class, you have no time to dwell on everything that happened because you're busy with an animation project. You're working together with Tara, Yvonne, and Jeremiah. You and Tara are animation majors while Yvonne and Jeremiah are in design. “Do you think we can finish this in time?” You groan, tiredly running a hand through your hair before you get back to sketching. The four of you talk amongst yourselves before Yvonne points out, “You're so good with drawings, Y/n…I can only do stick figures. I didn't know we'd be drawing people.”

“Well, I prefer using a pencil.” You yawn, holding a hand up to your mouth. “I'm awful with 3D software.” Your eyes are a bit blurry from all of your yawning and you squint at your drawing. “What did the muscle look like on this arm?” You murmur. Your pencil completely stops its movements as you were suddenly reminded of Xavier's arm trying to push you away and the bright blush on his face from before.

You really need to do something to stop thinking of your best friend like this…but his abs– No, just because he's got chiseled abs and a nice face…and a pretty voice…Stop– He's just your friend. Your childhood, wombhood best friend Xavier.

Maybe…you could go on a group date? No, that probably wouldn't help much, but you could go just to meet new people!

You shoot Yvonne a text from the bathroom saying that you're going back to your dorm and that you want to be included in that group date tomorrow. You try to emphasize that you just want to go as a potential friend, but she's clearly not listening after that.

You weren't really too thrilled when Yvonne had asked you about the group date, when you guys were out shopping for lingerie– she was going on a trip with her boyfriend, Greyson, and knew it was time. Whatever that meant. You had also bought a lingerie set, just a basic dark red set since you thought it was pretty.

Though, you really hope none of the guys would actually see you as a potential romantic partner, because while you wanted to get those images of Xavier out of your head– you really didn't want to lead some poor guy on.

Tomorrow comes sooner than you expected and it's Saturday now. You're sitting in front of a mirror while Tara applies some light makeup to your face. She's only curling your lashes, adding a shade of lip gloss that matches your skin, and maybe some eyeliner. Nothing too dressy since you're just going to meet new people– even if Yvonne doesn’t seem to understand that.

“So, what made you decide to go on this group date? When Yvonne brought it up at the lingerie store, you didn't seem interested.” Tara points out as she styles your hair. “Well…I wanted to expand my social circle–” “Look up, I'm applying mascara,” Tara cuts you off and you pause before looking up. “Like this?” “I take it back– do what you were normally doing!” Tara holds back her laughter and gets back to your makeup.

“But yeah, like I was saying, my life pretty much revolves around my classes and the dorm.” Once Tara is done, you quickly stand up. “Alright, now let's see if I have anything I can wear..” You muse, popping into your closet before stepping out a few minutes later. “Look, am I overdressed?”

Tara's back is to you as she speaks, “Just dress in something casual. It's a group date, afterall–” Though, she goes silent as soon as she notices what you're wearing. “That's…not what you're actually wearing, right?”

You look down at your red flannel button-up and your blue jeans with a frown. “Is it…too dressy?”

“Too dressy? I–...You're right, it is too dressy. Let me make a few changes.” Tara runs a hand down her face before hyping herself up to create a bombshell of an outfit for you.

“Oh my– look at you, girlie!” Irina, a fellow classmate, exclaims as you step down from the bus at your meeting spot. She nudges her friend, Winona, with an elbow as you look down at your scuffed white sneakers, a bit embarrassed by all of the attention. Tara got you all prettied up, having chosen one of your white turtlenecks, one of her black velvet camisoles, her black sling purse, and a checked skirt that Tara had gotten you a few years back as a gift. Your fingers nervously tugging at the hem of your skirt, worrying that it might be too short.

“You look gorgeous! You should wear that skirt more often,” Winona smiles at you, before grabbing your wrist as Irina continues, “The boys are here already, let's go.”

“Oh, right, I don't think Yvonne told you guys, but I'm only here for–” But you can't finish your sentence as you're pulled into the restaurant. Your phone buzzes in your hand and you notice that ‘Jerk’ is calling you– Jerk being Xavier. You hesitate, wanting to answer, but instead you put your phone in your pocket. Any other time, you would’ve answered, but right now it seems a bit rude towards the others.

“Hey guys!” Irina holds up a hand to wave once you walk up to the table that was seating three other people. You didn't recognize any of them, but maybe it would be easier to make friends that way.

“Hey you!” One of the guys says to Irina and she laughs, “What's up? You should know it's an honor to be set up with design students!” “Hey, PE majors are more popular, okay?” “Ah..Hello!” Winona tries to speak up, not wanting to be drowned out of the conversation, while you didn’t really mind it. You, honestly, almost wanted to just back out and leave, but you decide to stick it out because you could make some friends today. “Come, sit. It's nice to meet you!” The second guy motions toward the table with a nice enough smile. While the other two girls go to sit down, you awkwardly lean over with a small wave, “Hi everyone..”

“Woa–” “H-hello!” Two of the guys speak while the last stays silent, but a smile does tug at the corners of his lips. “What're you still standing there for? Come on, sit!” The first guy laughs and that's when you finally sit down.

You learnt that their names were Damian, Mateo, and Caelus. Damian was the PE major who was talking to Irina. Mateo was the second guy and Caelus was the third one.

“So, now that we all know who we are…let's toast!” Damian holds out his shot glass of soju while you stare down at the cup. You've…never had soju before. You sniff the cup before looking up in surprise as someone asks what you were doing. “Come on, let's toast!” Irina laughs, nudging you with her elbow and, honestly, you felt so drained already. You wondered if you could last the rest of this 'date’. You clink your shot glasses together and, while everyone else downs their drink, you sip on yours. But you get a bit nervous when everyone looks at you expectantly, so you toss your head back to finish it off. Hmm…this is actually really good for getting your mind off of certain things.

A few shots and an hour later, you were drunk– having the time of your life, but drunk. Maybe you shouldn't have drank on an empty stomach.

“Here, Y/n, have some water.” Caelus places a glass of water in front of you before saying, “You're in for a terrible hangover otherwise.” “Oh, You're Caelus, right? Thanks!” You grin at him before taking a sip from the cup. After another thirty minutes of playing around and chatting, Caelus was also a little buzzed.

“Can I ask you something? I hope this doesn't sound weird or anything.” Caelus rubs the back of his neck, nervously, with a small laugh. “What is it?” You were, also, still buzzed and excited about having a new friend. “Um..You don't have a boyfriend, do you?”

You blink in surprise. Oh, right. That was the purpose of a blind date, afterall, but you weren't here for that.

“Ah, me? No, why?” You ask, hoping he wasn't going to ask you out because then that would get awkward really quick. “Well…do you know that seriously good looking guy? He's famous on campus.” “uh..you mean Xavier?” Your eyebrows furrow. You weren't sure where this conversation was going. “Yeah, him! I don't know if you know, but you're sort of famous too. You two are always together and frankly, I was shocked because I had always thought you two were a couple.” Caelus admits and you tilt your head to the side.

Seriously? You weren't aware of that, at all. You and Xavier…together? Half of you wants to vehemently deny it, but there's another part that kind of–

“Don't be silly! They've been friends since they were kids.” Irina laughs, slapping her thigh. Her face was so red, she was probably drunk off her ass. “So…you two aren't together?” Caelus turns back to you, an almost hopeful look in his eyes. “We used to hang out since we were practically babies, that's all. We know and have seen everything about each other.” You shake your head before you pass at your last statement.

Seen everything…

Oh.

You slap your hands against your cheeks to pull yourself out of your inappropriate thoughts while Irina and Caelus are both surprised at your sudden actions. You're now hyper aware of other patrons at the restaurant and how they're shaking condiment bottles, and decide that maybe it’s best to pass out drunk. You grab the soju bottle and tilt your head back to finish it off. The bottle clinks against the table and your forehead on the cool wooden smacks down to join the bottle shortly after.

The table felt so nice, compared to how hot your face felt. You could almost fall asleep. Almost, but the phone buzzing in your back skirt-pocket has you drowsily blinking your eyes and you reach back to grab it. Your blurry eyes scan across the contents of your messages;

💛: “pick up the phone”

: “im @ work”

: "lets get some desert after"

Oh right, Xavier did mention to you last week that he was picking up a part time job…Hmph. Guess he's perfectly fine, even after everything that happened. All while you're trying to make new friends and keep your mind off of it. Maybe you're the problem? That's right! You've got to snap out of it and just act normal like he's doing, but…why can't you do that? Ugh, this is annoying.

A sigh escapes your lips and you feel a hand on your head. “Are you alright?” You hear Caelus ask and you glance over at him. “Doesn't your head hurt?” Now that you think about it…yeah, your head does hurt. Inside and out.

“Everyone else went to get some hangover drinks. How is your head? You hit it pretty hard.” Caelus was clearly concerned for you and that would be sweet– if he were the right guy. “I'm not sure..It does sting,” you murmur, body tensing up as you felt Caelus's hand on your shoulder. Huh?

“Still? Let me see.”

Through your blurry eyes, you can see the man moving closer toward you. Or maybe not. You couldn't tell. Once he got close enough to where you could feel his breath on your nose, the loud clank of a bottle slamming against the table causes Caelus to jerk back. You curiously turn your head to the side, eyes widening because you've got to be seeing things. Right?

“Here are the two beers you ordered.” Xavier and he seems…angry? Upset? Hmm, so this is where he's working.

“Pretty…” You don't even realize you spoke out loud as you drunkenly meet his pretty blue eyes.

“Ah,” Irina exclaims as she stretches her arms up in the air, “That was such a good stroll. I feel so much better…I wonder if Y/n is okay, she had a lot to drink.” “Huh–” Winona quickly taps Irina on the shoulder, “Isn't that Xavier?”

You were still in a daze with your head on the table, but you snapped out of it and sat up so quickly that you felt dizzy. Did you just call Xavier pretty? You really hope you're hallucinating right now. It seems like you still have to get your act together. You look down at the table, contemplating hitting it again to knock some sense into yourself. You close your eyes, ready to slam your head down on the table, but instead of the table, you feel a warm hand on your forehead.

“What the..” You turn your head to the side, resting your cheek on the palm of whoever's hand this is before realizing that it's Xavier's hand.

“Are you drunk?” Xavier asks with a raised brow, “Is that why you're banging your head against the table?” He sighs, turning his head toward the four students, who were waiting to sit down. “How much did she drink?” He points at you as he rummages around in his apron with his other hand. “A-about a bottle and a half? She had soju..” Winona breaks the silence while the others are too stunned to speak.

“Soju!?” Xavier groans before quickly turning to look back at you, “A bottle and a half? Isn't this your first time? Are you out of your mind?” Your friend continues his rant, “Did you forget how you threw up after your first beer? Soju is even worse! Did you brain up and leave you before you drank that shit?? Why can't you learn?” He runs a hand through his silvery blonde hair.

“What're you doing, huh!? You're not my mom! Stop nagging me, I'm having a good time with my frie–” Your whining is cut off by Xavier tapping a cold can against your forehead. “–nds..what's this?”

“Drink this. No more soju for you.” Is all he says and you sigh, grabbing the can as you rub your forehead, “Did you just go out and buy this?” “Of course not, we sell that here.” His head turns toward the door as a bell chimes, signifying that another customer has walked in. “I gotta get back to work.”

After Xavier walks away, you hold the can to your chest. Heartbeat roaring in your ears. “Oh my god, how cute is he?!” Irina whispers to Winona and the other girl shakes her fists, “Even his apron is sexy..”

“Uh…I'm all buzzed out. I'm gonna go get some fresh air, okay?” You stand up, holding the can still, and do your best not to run your fingers through your hair. You didn't want to mess up all the hard work Tara did to fix it.

Once outside, you spot Xavier, who was taking out some garbage. “Hey!” You go to yell at him, but your words fall flat when you notice something sticking out of his mouth. “Are…you smoking?”

“...It's a lollipop.” “Oh..Anyway, why didn’t you tell me you worked here?”

“I did.” He says, dusting off his hands. “Did not!” You puff your cheeks out, trying to remember if he did tell you.

“Why? Are you embarrassed because I caught you acting all girly with some guys?” Xavier lets out a small laugh as he pulls the lollipop from his lips. “Well…Tomboys like you need to play coy to get a date, so I'll let it slide.”

So he somehow got the wrong idea too?

You'd love to tell him he's wrong, but you honestly didn't care at the moment. Instead, you change the subject. “Hey, take this back.” You hold the blue can he gave you back out to him, “You can't just give me this.” “I paid for it, so you take it,” he says as he pushes the can back against your chest.

At your silence, he raises a brow, “You know what? Give it back.” He holds his hand out toward you. “You got me all upset now, so I'll be taking it back.” “What?” You hold the can tighter to your chest, “No way! You said it was mine.” “Come to think of it…Why should I bother? You're too busy partying with guys to even answer my texts.” Oh, now Xavier is definitely pouting.

You quickly open the can and take a few swigs like a dog eating some table-food that hit the floor. “Oh–” Xavier pauses before his gaze squints and he leans forward. “Are you wearing makeup?” “So what? Tara did it for me. What's the problem with it?” You glare at him, immediately getting defensive. “Hmm…you can put makeup on a donkey, but it's still a donkey at the end of the day.” He shrugs as he moves away from you and you punch him in the shoulder, “You wear makeup too, you dick!”

“But I'm clearly not a donkey.” Xavier smiles.

You and Xavier continue to talk for a while, leaning against a green metal fence behind the restaurant. He pulls his phone out from his apron and sighs, “Ah, I'd better get back.” “Woah, how long has it been?” You turn your head to look at him as he puts his phone away once more, “It's been like fifteen minutes? Damn, I lost track of time talking about the beer vomit story.” He chuckles as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Say…Do you like any of those guys?” He asks, thumbs hooked through his belt loop. “Mmh…why?” You could easily tell him now, but you wondered why he asked that. “Just asking.” He shrugs, tapping the toe of his shoe against the pavement. “Anyway, we still on for dessert after my shift?” Xavier reaches down to ruffle your hair and says, “Let me know, but I seriously gotta go back in now.”

After he says what he needs to, Xavier goes back inside and you sigh, putting a hand in your skirt-pocket as you walk back around to the front of the building. “Huh–” you pause as you notice Caelus standing outside as well.

“I thought I'd check up on you since you've been outside for a while,” He easily answers you as if knowing what you were going to ask. “But I was wondering…if we could talk.” He smiles and boy, do you know what was coming. How were you going to let this poor guy down easy?

“So…you and Xavier look really close.” Oh…that's not what you expected. Or was he saying this to lead into something else? “Uh, yeah. We, kind of, grew up together,” You say, slowly, trying to gauge what his next sentence would be. “So you don't have feelings for him?”

Uh. Is this even an appropriate question to ask someone you just met? Sure, it's a good question if you were looking to date someone, but…it still feels weird.

“What?” “I know it's a silly question, but you two seem really close. That's why I asked.” Caelus laughs it off, rubbing the back of his neck. “So that means you're not seeing anyone?” “Well…not exactly, but I'm not here for–” “I'm interested in you.” He blurts out, cutting you off entirely, and you give him a deadpan stare.

“That's…very flattering, but–” “At the risk of sounding too forward, let me ask. Do you want to go out with me?” Your eyebrow twitches in annoyance and you take a deep breath. “Caelus, right?” You plaster the sweetest smile you can muster on your face and tighten your grip on the empty soda can in your hand. “If you'd allow me to finish my god da–” You pause, taking another deep breath before continuing, “–if I could finish my sentence for once, I'm not here to date. I’m not looking for a relationship. I told Yvonne this, but it seems like she didn't give everyone else the memo. I just came here to get out of my dorm room, for once, and make some new friends.”

“Anyway, I'm going back inside.” You clear your throat, after a tense moment of silence and walk past him to go back inside. But you feel a hand catch your wrist. “Y/n–” You jerk your arm out of his grip and turn your head to raise a brow at him, “Hey, did anybody ever tell you that shit only works in k-dramas and romance novels? Don't touch me without my permission. But, now that you've got my attention, what is it?” You cross your arms over your chest and he frowns, putting his hands in his pockets as he murmurs under his breath, “Geez, they always say the worst she can say no.”

“Annnnd that's all the patience I have left to spend on you. Nice seeing you never!” You wave to him as you re-enter the restaurant and go back to your table.

Sure, Caelus didn't seem like a bad person, but the vibes just didn't feel right to you. At all. Honestly, you’d feel a lot better once you got dessert with Xavier.

A few days later, you're chilling at Xavier’s house and eating some leftover cake from that time you went to a dessert café. Your laptop sits open on his coffee table as you're on the floor, in front of it, while Xavier is sitting on the couch behind you. He always liked to watch your work, for some reason. Maybe to make sure you did it right?

You had an empty word document in front of you and you tilt your head back to look at your friend. “Hey, are you gonna work on your assignments too or are you going to watch me like that vampire weirdo from Twilight?” Xavier was mid-bite when he started coughing, hitting his chest because he must've been laughing but choked on his food. “I'll work on it later. What's your assignment on?” He asks, once he's finally caught his breath, and wipes a few stray tears from his eyes. “Ah…it's a report on any classic film. I got a USB of the film from Rafayel, so I'll probably watch that first.” You move to grab the USB from your bag before plugging it in.

“Do you want me to watch with you? I could try and help.” He leans forward, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Uh–” you were startled at how close he had gotten, but you nod your head, “Sure…Huh, it seems like there's a lot to choose from…”

The titles were pretty weird too, but these could just be some indie films. “Animal addiction?” You murmur with a raised brow, glancing over at Xavier out of the corner of your eye and he shrugs, moving his finger to the touchpad to click on it. “Maybe it’s something like the Tiger man documentary?” He questions before both of you go silent.

The film was pretty grainy, appearing like amateur work. This didn't seem like a ‘classic’ film…Then, the camera pans to a woman laying down on a bed. Was she naked?? What the hell is this– a man joins her on the bed and–

“Ooh!” a moan erupts from your laptop. “Ah, yes! Right there!” Wet squelches are audible from your speakers, the sound of skin slapping against skin. “Harder!”

You quickly slam your laptop shut with your face in your hands. “What the fuck did Rafayel give me?” You murmur, face bright red and your heartbeat thundering. “Maybe…it's a risqué classical film?” Xavier offers, trying to hold back his laughter, even if his face was red as well.

You definitely knew it wasn’t a classical film, you recognized it. It was the same one you had seen in middle school!

“He could've accidentally added that to this USB.” You let out a panicked laugh, opening your laptop back up to scroll through the file. “Okay, so maybe…okay, these have numbers and symbols as the name so maybe these are okay?” You quickly click on it and silently take the USB out from your computer before the moans can even start. “...nevermind.”

You run a hand through your hair and rest your head on the couch. “I'm sorry, Xavi..I guess I grabbed the wrong USB.” You sigh, looking up at the ceiling until the light is covered up by Xavier's big head coming into view. No, not that head.

“Xavier?” You question, but he doesn't respond. He leans over you, dipping his head down lower…and lower. Though, you panic and put your hand over his mouth.

“Oh! Uh– sorry,” you quickly say as you move your hands back, holding them to your chest with a nervous laugh as you stand up with your laptop. “Actually, uh Tara– yeah, Tara told me earlier today that she needed her clothes back. You know, the ones that I borrowed! So…I should probably leave and go get those for her!” You clap your hands together, face probably even more red than when that porno appeared on your laptop.

“Y/n–” Xavier goes to grab your wrist, but hesitates. He drops his hand into his lap before he shakes his head. “I understand. Go ahead.”

Huh, why did he do that? He could've just grabbed your hand–oh, could he have heard your conversation with Caelus?

“Thanks, Xavi. I’m really sorry about that! I'll definitely see you later though.”

A week goes by and you finally submit your correct classical film report. You had to sneak the USB back to Rafayel and explain to him that you never even looked at it since you already finished the report. You’d rather not open that can of worms with him, afterall.

While you're leaving your college, you get a text message;

💛: “hey”

: “i got u some food from my mom”

: “come get it or”

: “dont i could eat it”

Oh hell no! If it's his mom's cooking, you definitely want it.

“Hey! I'm here for my food!!” You waste not a single second, having gotten on a bus and ran the rest of the way to Xavier's apartment. It wasn't too far from the school, so you were more than ready to sit down and ea…–

“Holy shit!” You slap your hands over your eyes as you were blessed with the sight of a shirtless Xavier with water dripping down his chest. He was drying his hair off with a towel as he curiously looked over at you. “Hey, you were the one who barged into my house.”

“Why're you naked, though!? My eyes–” You whine and you hear Xavier audibly scoff, “What? So, are you telling me that I can't even shower? In my own home?” Then, after a few moments of silence, you move your hands away from your eyes. Honestly, you loved being over-dramatic. It was like second nature to you. Anything to keep from blushing over your shirtless best friend.

“Forget it. You wanted the food, right?” Xavier points toward his couch. “Wait there, I'll go get my shirt.”

You didn't even realize how quickly you complied to what he said, already finding yourself sitting down not even a few moments later.

He comes back with a white shirt on, grabbing the reusable orange bags and sets them on the coffee table. “So, what's in it?” You ask, standing up excitedly. “Well, you know, only your favourites.” He takes the plastic containers out of the first bag and you rummage through the second one before pulling out a heavy glass bottle. “Huh, what's this?” Once glance was all it took to realize this was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

“Hey, it's hard liquor!” You show it off to Xavier with a grin and he runs a hand down his face, “Oh…great.” As if he knows where you're going with this.

“Put it back. It's probably your mom's. I must've grabbed it by mistake.” He goes to take it from you, but you look at him with a mischievous smile, “Do yoouuu want to try it?” “I– seriously, Y/n, it's your mom's. We can't just–” “I just looked it up and apparently it tastes good,” you tease, shaking the bottle in front of him before you sigh, “but I guess we can put it back…”

“Well,” Xavier perks up at it tasting good and clears his throat, “I mean we could give it a taste.”

The two of you each fill a cup with the amber liquid and sit around the coffee table with your food-filled tupperware. A nice alcoholic beverage and food always go good together.

“Blegh!” You stick your tongue out, nose wrinkling in disgust, “Why is it so bitter? What's the percentage on this shit?” “Hmm, maybe twenty?” Xavier grabs the bottle to see before he pauses, “oh…forty.”

“This shit is way too strong. You got any soda we can mix with it?” Even though you asked, you’re going straight toward his kitchen as if you live here. “Yup.” He leans back on his hands until you come back, mixing some soda into both of your drinks. You take another sip and nod your head, “Do you wanna try mixing it with other stuff?” “Hmm, I heard orange juice is good with it.” Xavier looks up from his phone. He must've googled it. “Yeah! Let's try out a ton of combos and find the best one!” you cheer, holding a fist up in the air.

Then, you pause. “Wait.” You hold your hand out. “First, let me borrow some of your clothes.” “Why?” “Because my clothes are too snug and I'm gonna eat some of my food– annnd I'll probably stay the night,” you say with a shrug and Xavier points in the direction of his room. “Go find something.” He nurses his drink while you change into the smallest clothes he owns.

Even if they're the smallest, they still practically engulf you. His shirt was loose around your body and his shorts were barely holding up around your waist.

“You look like a hobbit.” Xavier giggles to himself before he motions toward the plates on the coffee table. “Anyway, I unloaded some of your food. You’re sharing, by the way. You don't get a choice.”

As you shamble back toward the coffee table, you have to hold up your borrowed shorts. When did Xavier get so big..? Wasn't this shirt supposed to be a short sleeve? It's almost to your wrists…Hmm…

Where's this tingling sensation in your stomach coming from? Parasites, maybe? Maybe they'll go away if you drink.

“You know,” You slur, holding up an empty glass, “This is supposed to be hard liquor, right? Wouldn't it…be better to call it easy liquor since it goes down so easy?” Your body sways and you set your glass down next to the empty bottle of alcohol. “Here we go again. Do you realize how many times you’ve said that?” Xavier hiccups as he points at a plant in his room. Did he think that plant was you? Laughter bubbles in your chest before it erupts from your mouth and you lay onto the floor as you try to catch your breath.

“Hey..” Xavier brushes his hand across your heated forehead, “Aren't you gonna call your boyfriend?” “Eh? What boyfriend?” Your eyes were closed, relaxing as he played with your hair. “Didn't..well, that guy asked you out, right?” “Mmh…yeah, but I said no,” you say with a small shrug.

You raise a brow after you open your eyes and notice Xavier was smiling. “Why're you smiling? You look stupid.” You reach your hand up to poke your index finger against his cheek. “That checks out. Who would ask you out anyways.”

“Huh, are you trying to fight with me?!” You quickly sit up, body swaying from the slight feeling of vertigo as you glare over at him. “What? You know I'm right. Don't you remember, in elementary school, all the kids in our class thought you were a boy.” “And? All of the girls liked to dress you up in princess costumes because you were ‘pretty as a princess’ or did you forget about that?” You jab a finger against his chest.

“What about your last crush? He only realized you were a girl when you had to wear the girl's uniform.” Xavier leans closer, his face flushed from all the alcohol you both had drank. “Look who's talking Mister ‘I won an all girl's beauty pageant even though I was in the audience’.” Your face equally as red as you kept moving closer until your foreheads touched. “Tomboy!” “Delinquent!”

A silence fills the room as your breath washes over each other's face until Xavier closes the gap. You felt his soft lips against yours before he pulled back. “Huh–” You lazily blink a few times, gaze flitting between his lips and his eyes. You both stare at each other for a few more seconds, and then Xavier leans back in.

This time, he doesn't pull away.

Xavier kisses you softly, your body slowly leaning backwards until you're flat against the floor. You felt his tongue lick at your lips and you hesitate for a moment to let him in.

What…were you doing? With Xavier, of all people?

With another swipe of his tongue, you give up on thinking and open your mouth. Your head tilts to the side as the kiss deepens, his tongue dragging against yours. “Mmh–” a noise escapes your lips as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, tugging on it before he goes back to languidly kissing you. His tongue lazily fighting against yours for dominance, but neither side ever wins.

Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp. You shift in his hold, your chest lightly brushing against his and that's when Xavier tenses up. He pulls back, hands gripping your shoulders. “Hey…have your boobs always felt this nice?” He asks, looking down at them to see their stiffened peaks through the thin fabric of his shirt. “Hmm…I dunno since you've never felt them before.” You drunkenly tug at the neck of your borrowed shirt to look down at your breasts.

“Wait–” you squint your eyes as you notice something red coming out of Xavier's nose. “Is your nose…seriously bleeding from seeing my boobs?” You laugh. “What are you, a teenager?”

“Seriously, put your head back. It's getting everywhere.” You wipe at it until Xavier scoots back, “Hey stop–” He falls back against the couch, wiping his nose with a thumb. His legs are spread out with his shirt riding up his chest. His firm thighs…

You move a bit closer, your hand trailing up his shirt. “What're you doing?” He asks, stomach tensing up as your fingers brush against his abs. “I always wanted to feel them,” you murmur under your breath. “They're soft…I really thought they'd be firm.”

You poke at his stomach and Xavier groggily looks down at you, “It's because ‘m not flexing.” “ohh, what happens when you flex?” You already forgot what you were talking about. “My abs get hard.” “Hmm..flex it right now. I wanna see what happens.” Your fingers continue to prod and poke at his stomach. “Yo, you listening?” Your nails lightly scratch against his skin and he catches your wrist, “I heard you, so stop touching me…and this time, let me touch you.” His thumb rubs back and forth against your pulse.

“But…no.” You look away from him and Xavier raises an eyebrow, confused, “Why?” “Then…someone would be touching my body..and that's embarrassing.” You pout, cheeks somehow getting even more warm, as you squeeze your thighs together. “Then…it would be fine if I touch you in a way that doesn't make you shy, right?” He grabs your wrist once more, gently squeezing it before his hands dart to your waist. His fingers dance across your body as he tickles you.

A loud laugh slips from your lips and your body jerks around in his hold. “Xavi– wait!” Your body goes backward and you're back on the floor. Your hands push at his chest as your laughter causes tears to prick your eyes. He catches your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head, as his free hand continues to tickle your body. “Hold on–! Let me catch my breath you, fucking–” More giggles come from your throat as you try to finish your sentence, “–you fucking psycho!”

Xavier finally stops, your shirt up to your neck as your chest heaved from your breathing. “Are..you okay?” He asks, slowly, and you look up at him with (happy) tears in your eyes, “After everything you did, do I look okay to you?” You were out of breath, sides still somehow feeling like they were being tickled. “Well…in any case, it doesn't seem like you're embarrassed anymore.” Xavier trails off, his gaze on your bra-clad breasts. His finger slides under the cups to grab your right breast.

“Ah..” you let out a small noise in surprise, back automatically arching to push more into his palm.

“Fuck..” he breathily laughs before he leans his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple. His tongue flicks across the stiffened peak before he nips it between his teeth. “Ouch, Xav..” you wince before a moan slips through your puffy, parted lips as he swipes his tongue against it to soothe the pain.

“Xavi..” your chest felt wet from more than just Xavier's saliva.

“Hey, lift your head for a sec.” You tug him up by his silvery blonde hair and notice his nose was bleeding again. “Again? Are you exhausted today or do you just go wild for breasts?” You sit up to panic over the poor guy, trying to find something to wipe his nose with.

“No..” but his gaze is drawn to your bare breasts once more and you could swear you saw more blood drip from his nose.

Fuck. You needed to find a tissue for him. Why isn't he helping? You glance over at him and can't help but think that he looks kind of cute in a daze like that. Then, you notice he's getting blood on his white shirt. Ugh. Blood stains are a bitch to get off. Uh…

“Ah, seriously…this is so gross but–” you murmur under your breath before you cup his cheek and lean forward. You drag your tongue up his chin and move along the trail of blood. Moving across his lips…but you stop before getting to his nose because that's…just nasty. You weren't licking his nose. You move back and stick your tongue out. “Blegh. I can't believe I did that. You know blood stains– Mmph” Xavier cuts you off with another kiss. This one was more intense than the last. His tongue sliding against yours as one of his hands holds your face by the chin. This kiss was passionate and wet. Saliva drips down your chin and you greedily swallow any that makes it into your mouth.

You turn your head to the side for air and lightly hit him on the back. “You’re getting more blood in my mouth.” You meet Xavier’s eyes but he's clearly gone, out of it. He dips his head back down to kiss you again, gently guiding your body back to the floor for the third time tonight. Your hand grips the back of his shirt as he kisses you harder, lips sloppily colliding and gliding against one another. You feel his hands make their way up your thighs until he's slipping his fingers under your shorts. One hand squeezes your ass, his fingers pressing into the skin.

Your body jerks in surprise as his fingers slowly move toward your center. Legs trying to close on reflex as you felt his middle finger press against your entrance. “X-Xavier?” You manage to choke out, your breath coming out in small pants. “You're so wet…is this all just from kissing?” He asks, seemingly in a daze as his middle finger penetrates you.

Xavier rests his forehead against yours as he presses his finger inside at a slow pace. The digit curling and pressing at odd intervals as if trying to find something. “A-ah..” you can't help the tiny moans that spill from your lips, your hips jerking with every movement from his finger.

“W-wait a second,” you panic as you feel something warm and thick against your inner thigh, and Xavier pulls back for a moment. Your gaze immediately drops to the front of his sweatpants and your eyes widen. “Oh..” “What're you thinking about?” His pretty blue eyes were filled with a hint of darkness, a bit of lust.

You…wanna try it.

“Xavi…do you have any condoms?” You ask, your hands cupping his cheeks to make him look at you. That's when he frowns. “No…shit, do I need to get some?”

Damn it.

“No, it's…fine. We can uh– ah–!” You cut yourself off mid-sentence as Xavier pushes his finger back inside your pussy, a second finger teasing your entrance. “We can still get each other off though, yeah?” He licks his lips before adding a second finger. His hips pressed closer to you so you felt the warmth of his length against your thigh once more. “S-sure,” you hiccup your sentence out as he begins to move both fingers, curling them to press into that spot. You let out a loud moan and roll your hips upward.

A similar moan slips from Xavier's lips as you unintentionally grinded up against him and he grabs your hand, placing it over his clothed dick. “Please?” he asks with a tilt of his head, curling his fingers against your g-spot for good measure. You quickly nod your head, squeezing your head against his length before you begin to rub it.

The silvery blonde haired man continues to fuck you with his fingers, his thumb swiping back and forth over your clit. “Fuck, Xavier!” You arch your hips up with a small whine as you feel something building up in your stomach. Your hand moves against his warm dick, trying your best to jerk him off without going under his clothes, and it seems to be working because he dips his head down to kiss you once more.

“Come for me,” he murmurs against your lips. “Please? Wanna feel your pussy tremble around my fingers.” You felt the thread in your stomach winding tighter and tighter until…

Your body jolts you awake and you sit up in the bed with wide eyes. A dream? No…your sticky, cold panties were telling you otherwise. You slowly turn your gaze to the warm body next to you. How did you both get up to bed?

Whatever. That doesn't matter. You check your phone, quickly silencing your alarm so it doesn't wake Xavier up and you jump up to get dressed.

Yeah, leaving. That sounds great. Especially when assignments can be used as an excuse! You put your pants up before cringing at your wet panties. You sigh, taking them off. Guess you're going commando today…you put the clothes in his laundry hamper and hurry out the door.

Almost a whole day went by and you didn't get a single thing done. You were sitting in a daze for the most part, but now you were reading a mature romance novel. Tara had left a few behind in the dorm so you were distracting yourself with them. Though…they weren't helping much. You were imagining all of the sex scenes in the novel with you and Xavier instead…

You slap yourself and quickly stand up. Snacks. Yeah, snacks could help.

You throw on a jacket and leave the house with your book in hand. You read a few pages as you step into the store, walking straight toward the snacks aisle but stop in front of the adult section. Your eyes scan over a few condom boxes.

If…Xavier had a condom yesterday, you would've had sex, right?

Your cheeks heat up and you shake your head. Were you always this obsessed with sex?

You pick up one of the boxes, looking at it and murmuring, “Ribbed…for her pleasure?” You tilt your head to the side. Would that feel good..? You kind of wanted to know, but you probably wouldn't ever find out. Who would you even do it with? Well…isn't Xavier a viable option? Do you like him? You, honestly, are starting to wonder at this point. You might.

“He might be interested in it…considering what happened yesterday,” you murmur under your breath. Your head curiously turns toward the door as you hear a ding come from someone else entering the small store.

“Oh–”

You really hope he didn't see the condoms in your hand.

You speed walk to the checkout counter, buying the condoms in your momentary panic and drag him outside.

The two of you sit down on a bench in silence.

Maybe…you could ask him now? Or should you say you like him? Would it be rude to ask for sex without even dating?

“So…about yesterday..” Xavier begins and you excitedly look at him, pretending to play it cool when he looks at you. “We both made a mistake because we were drunk…maybe it's best to just forget about it all together–” Though he pauses once he notices the frown on your face. Your head was spinning and your cheeks felt hot. Did you drink today? It definitely felt like you had some alcohol.

Gosh, you're so embarrassed. Why were you thinking he'd ask to do it again?

“Ah…yeah, of course! We'll forget it ever happened. Yup! Just return everything back to normal, okay? Don't act all awkward when you see me again, you hear!” You awkwardly laugh as you hit his back. “It’s nothing special, am I right?”

“Stop that.” Xavier sighs, body barely moving from your hits. “Oh? Your back muscles are really prominent. Have you been working out again?” Your palm presses against his back and he shakes his head, “You know, it would do you some good to pick up some muscle too. I mean seriously, you–” he pauses as he realizes he has his arm wrapped over your shoulders, fingers touching your waist. Your hand was on his chest with your head resting on his shoulder and…This definitely didn't seem like ‘going back to normal’.

“Anyway, I'm gonna go! It's almost time for the dorm curfew so yeah!” Your ankles twist over one another as you try to quickly escape and you're falling toward the ground. “Hey, be careful–!!”

Xavier's arm wraps under your breasts to hold you up from falling and your hand rests on his elbow.

You both stood there for a moment with red faces until you cleared the silence with a nervous question, “Hey, I…Can I come over to your place..?”

Xavier kicks the door closed behind him, already closing in on you. You trip and fall back, the two of you landing on the floor with his hand cushioning your head. He looks over at the stairs before grabbing your arms. “Wrap your arms around my neck.” He tells you and you do it without question.

Suddenly, you're in the air with his hands gripping your ass as he hurries to his room. You can feel something hard– probably his dick– pressing hard between your thighs before he practically tosses you on his bed. Your body bouncing against the mattress as Xavier puts his hands on either side of your waist. You lean back on your elbows as you look up at him, nervously.

“Should I…take this off?” You tilt your head to the side, unzipping your hoodie to reveal your tank top underneath. “Should we?” Xavier lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere in the room. Then, he's back on top of you.

He pulls down your shorts and panties in one swipe, then your tank top follows so you're only in your sports bra while he's still wearing his sweatpants. His hand moves down to your pussy, tapping his fingertips against your clit before his middle finger dips past your entrance.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, finger gliding in easily with how wet you were. “N-no,” you choke out, doing your best to hold back any noises as he begins to thrust his finger. “I'm ah okay.” Your hips jerk and he holds them down with his other hand. “You're so…wet. Is that normal?” He asks as he adds a second finger. “How would I know!?” Your nails dig into his shoulder and Xavier lets out a hiss between his teeth, “Honestly…I've been hard since we were outside my door.”

“I know, I felt it.” A moan leaves your lips as he moves his fingers faster. Wet squelching sounds come from between your legs as his palm smacks against your clit with every thrust. “X-Xavier!” “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers, are you close?” He questions as he curls your fingers and your body squirms underneath his grip as you cry out and come undone underneath him. “Ah…you didn't even answer me.” He tsks with a small pout.

“I'm…sorry.” An apology slurs from your lips as you try to catch your breath and Xavier pulls his finger out, bringing them up to his lips. He gives them a curious sniff before licking up his fingers, taking in your taste with a small hum.

“Fuck…are you gonna whip it out?” You sit up on your elbows, eyeing the wet spot on the front of his sweatpants and he chuckles, “Alright, greedy girl. I’m getting it out.”

He moves to take off both his sweatpants and boxers before he gets back onto the bed, stroking his dick with one hand. “Hey, grab the condoms.” He jerks his head toward your bag and you roll over to grab it from the floor. You feel a hard slap against your ass as soon as you grab the square packet and jerk your head toward Xavier. “What the hell?” The culprit holds his hands up in defeat and you hand him the condom as you lay on your back.

Xavier rips open the packet with his teeth, one hand still rubbing his cock before he rolls the condom along his length. His pretty pink tip was already leaking precum. He rubs his cock against your clit, coating the condom in your juices and then lightly presses the tip against your hole. “Ah–” you grab Xavier's shoulders to get his attention, “please be gentle?”

He smiles down at you, nodding his head as he slowly pushes inside. He waits a few moments, allowing your pussy to suck more of his length in as you adjust to his size. “It..hurts..” you bite down on your bottom lip. This was nothing like what the romance novel said. What the fuck. “Breathe,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. His hand moving down to roll his thumb against your clit. His other hand moves to arch your back, fingers pressing against your spine and a loud moan slips from your lips. Your hands smacking against your mouth in surprise.

“What's this, Y/n?” Xavier scoffs, a grin tugging at his lips. “Does it feel good when I touch your back?” He licks his lips as he lightly scratches his nails against your back. “A-ah, stop–” Another moan leaves you as he begins to move. His hips snapping forward and his balls slap against your ass. “Xav– fuck, please–” You weren’t sure what you were asking for, at this point. He changes the angle of his hips and you gasp out, legs wrapping around his waist as your back arches. “Hnngh!” You roll your hips up to match his thrusts, your gaze on his face to watch as it contorts with pleasure.

“Ahhh..fuck!” Xavier's hips still and you look up at him with a raised brow, “Did you just…” “Fuck, it's my first time too..I'll do better.” He pulls out to tie off the condom and tosses it in his trash can. He leans over to grab another one, rolling it onto his cock as he lines it back up with your pussy.

The pace is as harsh as ever. Skin slapping on skin, wet sounds and moans filling up the otherwise quiet room.

You can't even remember how many times you've came at this point, tied up condoms littering the floor since Xavier missed the trash multiple times. Your hands press against his sweaty chest as your equally sweaty body feels weak. “You said that was the last time!” You gasp out, legs shaky. “You've gotta cum one more time and then we're done, yeah? You can do it for me, right?” He throws one of your legs over his shoulder as he slowly thrusts into you. His thumb rubbing your clit to match his pace. “We'll cum together and then sleep, hmm?” He murmurs, dipping his head down for a soft kiss as he languidly thrusts into you.

You're not even sure if you can cum again, but you can't say no to that pretty face so you tiredly nod your head. Your fingers lightly running through his hair as you felt that stomach heat up. A soft moan slipping into his mouth as you came for the nth time.

Xavier's head turns to the side to break the kiss as he bites his lip and cums at the feeling of your warm pussy spasming around his dick. He pulls out, throwing the condom away once more and collapses next to you, one arm across your stomach. “Night…Xavi.” You yawn, eyes slowly drifting closed.

The next time you wake up, everything comes crashing back to you but you're not as shocked. If anything, you're content with it. You've come to terms with your feelings rather quickly and decided you would run away this time. But when you turn to see Xavier, he’s not there. You frown. Huh…was this how he felt when you weren't next to him before?

You get out of bed, pulling on one of Xavier's shirts as you wobbly walk into the kitchen. He must've cleaned you up since you didn't feel sweaty or sticky. Maybe he's still home..

You pause as you smell something and run to the kitchen like a newborn deer. Xavier can’t cook to save his life so you wanted to salvage the food somehow. You skid to a halt once you notice he's just heating up leftovers in the microwave.

“Oh, so you didn't try to sneak out on me today.” Xavier comments once he spots you behind him, his gaze raking up your bare legs. You snap your fingers and pout, “Hey! Eyes up here, idiot. We're not going at it again yet, I can barely feel my legs.”

“Yet?” He raises an eyebrow, setting a plate down on the counter. “Who says we'll do it again?”

“Mmh..” You pretend to think for a moment before you sheepishly smile, “Your…girlfriend?”

Xavier blinks at you owlishly in surprise before he shakes his head with a small laugh. “Girlfriend…yeah, that sounds nice. Great way to ask someone out, dumb ass.” He carries the plates toward his kitchen table. “Now let's eat before my dumb girlfriend passes away from starvation.”

I'm gonna post this now, before I update TOF since I've got it done! I'm sorry for the abrupt ending, but I'm glad I finished it because apparently Tumblr doesn't like things over 12k. I gotta take note of that for the future..

I hope you guys don't mind that I couldn't go through and use italics and bold. I would have but my Tumblr is being so laggy from the word count that I honestly can't bring myself to do it. Anyways, I'm not sure when I'll write the next ones in this mini-series, but I hope you enjoyed reading through this! It's a lot longer compared to my usual updates. But yeah! ToF updates later on today so I hope you're ready for that!! <3

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