#and then the second time it's when they go out of the brothel

[sevsgiirl]

— do the girls back home touch you like I do?

sevika x insecure!reader. men and minors dni.

synopsis: having feelings for the most feared woman in zaun had more cons than it did pros - her being popular amongst women and a regular at the brothel just to name a few. it hurt because you knew with her history there’s no way she’d return your feelings… right?

word count: 5.5k words.

tags: insecure!reader, jealousy, miscommunication, public sex, oral sex, vaginal fingering, porn with feelings, top!sevika, bottom!reader.

it was silly, honestly.

you knew it was a shot in the dark for sevika to reciprocate your feelings. much or less consider you an option on her roster.

sevika gets around. there was no denying that, and you’ve come to terms with it the second you caught these stupid little feelings that just wouldn’t go away. no matter how hard you tried.

you assumed it would. back when silco hired you to be his informant, you saw the opportunity as nothing more but an upgrade from your previous jobs. it’s safe to say, you’ve gone through a lot just to get to where you are now. whether it was scrubbing the floors of a dingy, run-down diner that made jericho’s look like a michelin star restaurant, to going as far as thinking about working at babette’s.

but then silco saw some potential in you that not a lot of people have seen before, and you were grateful for it. a lot of your co-workers were tolerable, just as long as you looked past the carnage of their jobs, it was pretty easy to get by when working for silco because he never really asked you to get your hands dirty.

no, he asked sevika to do that.

you knew she was different from the others the second you laid eyes on her. she remained unyielding in the eyes of catastrophe, she gets the job done no matter how tedious the assignments were, and she navigates through life like an enigma.

you were intimidated by her at first. when she walked into a room, her presence demanded to be felt, crowds of people would always make space for her to walk through and she could silence someone with just the heat of her glare. it was then you understood why she was silco’s number two.

but despite her brooding personality, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards her. maybe it was the allure of wanting something you can’t have, but every time you were sent on a mission with her, this desire to know her better always tempted you. even though you wouldn’t know the first thing to say to strike up a conversation with the older woman, you couldn’t deny that what you felt was beyond just physical attraction. you were intrigued by everything about her.

it tethered the line of obsession but hadn’t quite got there yet, the better way to describe it was infatuation.

she’d occupy your thoughts but not so much to the point that she was all you thought about, but when you did, you had to force yourself to snap out of it before it became borderline creepy, and you wanted to justify your feelings thinking she wouldn’t feel the same in a million years.

not only that, but her reputation precedes her.

you knew your hesitation to make a move stemmed more from just being shy or thinking you wouldn’t get along with the older woman, and it was because her sexual proclivities scared the hell out of you.

again, she gets around, far more than most people. before you worked for silco, rumors regarding his second in command traveled through the streets of zaun in whispers, whether it was good or bad, it didn’t really matter.

one detail that caught the attention of many, specifically those of women, were her frequent nights spent at the gardens. you couldn’t deny that aside from being incredibly scary, so much of sevika’s appeal came from her appearance as well - her tall stature, impressive built, corded muscles, the rigged lines and hard angles of her face. she was just as beautiful as she was domineering.

that’s why it didn’t surprise you that women tend to set aside her notoriety in hopes of sleeping with her, but that doesn’t mean the thought didn’t cause your insides to flare up with jealousy.

as mentioned, you thought about working for babette at one point. when your low paying jobs in the past couldn’t suffice to get you through the week, the idea came to mind on some occasions. but you knew it wasn’t easy work, not to mention your looks paled in comparison to the girls you’d seen working there. all slim waists, toned arms, long legs, big tits and even bigger asses.

you didn’t possess any of the traits that made the girls there appealing.

you just set aside the idea because your ego wasn’t big enough to make you think you were up for the job, and knowing that’s where sevika prefers to spend most of her nights made your insecurities worse.

especially when she’d stroll through the last drop late at night littered with hickeys and bite marks around her neck that she’d let the world see without shame, and how you’d just ogle at them with the ugliest emotions churning in the pits of your stomach.

it didn’t help when silco’s men would poke fun at her for it “damn, was the night that rough? you gotta take it easy on those girls.” they’d joke as a sly grin would make its way on her face.

“they love it,” would be her response, which would earn a roar of laughter from the group meanwhile you’d walk away after eavesdropping, with a heaviness in your chest that wasn’t there minutes ago as you tried to erase the image of sevika indulging herself with countless women.

you understood the intention behind it. you knew it was her way of escaping the stress of silco’s workload, and having sex with multiple women was just as much of a coping mechanism as gambling and drinking was.

that doesn’t mean it wasn’t any less painful to think about, even though you knew you couldn’t have stood a chance.

because how could you? who even were you in the bustling, chaotic world that is sevika’s life? if simply nothing more than just her co-worker?

𐙚 ˙ ⋆ .˚

you didn’t think she’d ever acknowledge you outside of work.

you’ve had your fair share of interactions but it was all professional so those don’t count. you were delusional but you weren’t delusional enough to think that your quick conversations about paychecks and shipment were considered bonding.

it wasn’t until an incident transpired in one of her missions where silco asked you to come along, and it so happened that the firelights decided it was a good day to ambush you, sevika and the rest of the team.

you cowered away from the commotion because it’s not like you possessed any of sevika’s combative skills. you were an informant, for crying out loud.

but you weren’t quick on your feet, and when the leader of the firelights threw one of their bombs in your direction you were crystallized in place near the cargos, unable to move.

you knew the crystals would dissolve after five minutes, you were aware of how their weapons worked, but the fear of being unable to move still stressed you out, and as you kept squirming you caught sevika’s eye who was immobilized herself.

one thing led to another, silco’s daughter came up from underneath the airship and began firing at the firelights, grazing you with one of her bullets as you let out an agonizing scream in response.

suffice to say, the mission went horribly and everyone who go out was reprimanded by silco, because of course he’d never put the blame on jinx. while you on the other hand, were hunched over the bar later that night, nursing your sides that were still bleeding due to jinx’s mishap.

thieram was more than happy to help, aiding you with your injury but your pain tolerance wasn’t necessarily high, so every time he dabbed you with the wash cloth dunked in alcohol, you couldn’t help it as you let out a wince, clutching thieram’s forearm.

“I’m sorry,” he said, cringing at your pitiful state “I don’t know how-“

“move it.”

your eyes widened as the shadow of sevika’s tall silhouette casted over you, pushing past thieram while she took the bottle of alcohol and cloth from him. she nodded at you for you to raise your shirt up.

“let me see the wound,”

blushing, you were debating whether or not you should let sevika see you in such a compromising position, but she probably only wanted to help and couldn’t care less about seeing you exposed.

so you did as you were told and let her press her large palm onto your rib where a lot of the bleeding came from.

you hissed, gripping the sides of the bar and sevika cursed “fucking jinx,”

you shook your head “it’s okay, it’s not that big of a de-“

“but it is,” she grumbled “if only she did her fucking job and didn’t lose her shit, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

gulping, you tried not to overthink her choice of words and how she only focused on your injury and not the rest, considering you weren’t the only one who got the brunt of it.

“it’s fine, I’m just worried if the others are tending to their injuries.”

“don’t worry about them,” she muttered “they’re built for these kinds of things, you aren’t.”

you snickered, pretending to take offense “excuse me? are you calling me weak?”

sevika couldn’t hide her amusement, wiping away at the little blood smeared on your lower stomach.

“not weak,” she replied “I just don’t think a pretty little thing like you is meant for this kind of work. you’re not equipped for it.”

“I can look out for myself, you know.”

she hummed, her grey eyes staring up at you “maybe, but still. it’d be better if you didn’t need to.”

you tried not to let her words get to you, and calling you a pretty little thing didn’t help with your growing infatuation. perhaps she was just playing coy with you, you thought.

but then silco continued to let you join in on her missions, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart fluttered every time she’d ask you to ‘keep close behind’ or how she’d shield you with her massive frame every time danger was imminent.

if she couldn’t trust you to look out for yourself, then she did it for you.

you wanted to excuse it thinking since she’s already lost so much men she didn’t want your name to be crossed off on the list as well. but that doesn’t mean you stopped dwelling on it.

especially when on most nights where she’d catch you in the last drop, she’d ask you to have a drink with her. going as far as to teach you how to play cards when you’d watch her gamble with the rest of silco’s men and how she’d win every time.

“you’re so good at this,” you said in awe during one of her games which earned a chuckle from her.

you were seated right next to sevika, not too close but not too far apart either, that sometimes you’d feel her elbow brushing against yours.

“want me to teach you then?”

“hey, that’s not fair, how come she gets to have you as her teacher while we’re stuck here getting our asses beat?” one of the men she was playing with chided in.

she only ignored him, flipping her cards over to reveal she’s won yet again, making them groan “then play better.” she quipped, turning over to you with a smirk on her face.

you swore butterflies almost erupted out of your belly. she was so smug, but radiant in her victory that you couldn’t even bring yourself too feel bad for the others, if you’d get to see her this way all the time, you hoped she’d win all of her games.

the guy huffed, taking a swig from his beer as he looked up at her, grinning “I dropped by the gardens today, by the way. lily said she missed you.”

you froze as those words left his mouth, but sevika remained ambivalent by the information as she shuffled her cards “I’ve just had a lot on my plate,” and perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but you swore you caught her eyeing you for a brief moment.

“well, better not to keep those girls waiting. you know you’re their favorite,” the table laughed and sevika couldn’t help herself from joining along.

“ain’t that right,” she said, chuckling.

you gulped, feeling a lump in your throat as you forced yourself not to spew something bitter because really, who were you to act jealous over who sevika chooses to spend her time with?

she may act flirtatious with you from time to time but it’s not like it meant anything. you wanted to set it aside, and tell yourself it was just never going to happen. spend less time with her if you need to.

but as if it fate wanted to play a joke on you both, that was thrown out the window when one night, sevika came stumbling into the last drop all battered and bruised. her prosthetic dangling from her arm in ruined wires while she tried her best to steady herself as she walked in.

instinctively, you rushed to her side and examined her state “sevika, oh my god.”

she groaned “it’s not a big de-“

“like hell it is,” you reprimanded as you told thieram to fetch the first aid kit and inform silco of sevika’s condition.

she was against it but you simply silenced her, pulling up a chair as you pushed her down “you need to be more careful.” you said.

“stop fussing over me, I’m built for these kinds of things. it’s my job.”

“just because it’s your job doesn’t mean you have to be so reckless! you’re more than just silco’s killing machine. you can’t keep putting your life on the line like this.”

sevika remained silent before soft laughter bubbled out of her, making you raise an eyebrow.

“I guess this makes us even.”

“what?”

“from when you got hit by jinx’s bullets,” she said as realization dawned on you “I guess we’re even now.“

you rolled your eyes at that “I’m not doing this because I owe it to you. you’re more than just my co-worker.”

she eyed you, curious “what am I then?”

there was a moment of silence as you knelt down in front of her, staring at the uneven lines of the wooden floorboards, refusing to meet her eye.

“a friend, if you’d let me,” you muttered.

she hummed, leaning against her seat “I don’t do much of those,”

you snickered “you don’t do much of anything really,”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you realized your mistake but decided to keep it going anyways.

“you’re too guarded. you keep your circle too tight, and I haven’t really seen you out with anyone. romantically, I mean.”

you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut, but you couldn’t help it.

she was silent for a minute “I didn’t know you kept tabs on whether or not I date.”

you scoffed, although it sounded unconvincing “I do not.”

then there was that god awful smirk on her face again, eating away at you as she cocked her head to the side.

“sure you don’t, princess.“

your mind immediately went haywire because oh god, did she know?

on one hand, you weren’t exactly subtle. even thieram would tease you about it. noticing the way you’d sneak glances at sevika whenever she strolled through the bar and you’d hear him let out a snort from behind the counter.

“take a picture, it’d last longer.” he’d joke while you flipped him off.

but judging by the way she teased you about the idea, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that felt a bit hopeful that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance.

because if there was, it wouldn’t hurt to try and seize the opportunity.

𐙚 ˙ ⋆ .˚

when silco suggested the group had a day off and to use the bar to their liking for one night as compensation for a successful mission, you were elated. for a number of reasons.

because this is it. this is the moment that you’ve been waiting for, to finally make a move and to squash your fantasies once and for all.

you’re aware about wanting to keep your feelings at bay and to never let sevika know about them, but as the days flew by it was getting harder and harder to stay silent.

especially since the night you tended to her injuries and how she reacted at the idea of you taking an interest in her, and how she didn’t seemed fazed by it, if anything, she seemed intrigued.

it was worth a shot, because it’s better to say you tried than not at all.

so on the night of the party, you went out of your way to doll yourself up for once. your days were normally mundane and your job was tedious enough as it, so you never saw a reason to dress up. living in the under city, going out partying and sleeping with people was scarcely something you ever thought about.

but that doesn’t mean you never anticipated it, and so you went digging under your closet for the handful of dresses you’ve stolen from a couple of boutiques in topside. something you kept for special occasions and this was one of them.

you settled for a black halter dress that stopped below your thighs and also accentuated your cleavage, along with a pair of sheer dark tights that allowed you space to move around freely.

you rummaged through your drawers and pulled out a couple of broken makeup pallets, likely expired, but you didn’t really care as you meticulously dabbed silver eyeshadow on yourself and applied some red lipstick.

you inspected yourself on your mirror and let out an approving hum. you looked nice. you didn’t really consider yourself drop dead gorgeous but when you made some effort to make yourself presentable, the pay-off was worth it.

your chest swelled with hope thinking maybe this will be the day sevika sees you, really sees you. not just as a co-worker, friend, but someone worthy to replace the girls at the gardens with…

with that, you slipped on your combat boots and strode out of your apartment building, walking through the streets of zaun and not minding the lewd comments thrown your way by the men passing by you.

you showed up at the last drop and one of the bouncers, after taking a good look at you, opened the door for you while shooting you a sly grin.

perhaps you’ve outdone yourself, or maybe the people around you just weren’t used to seeing you all dressed up but either way, their reactions stroked your ego. all that’s left now was to just find sevika.

you made your up to the bar where thieram was busy serving drinks, and he didn’t recognize you at first until you called out to him.

he blinked as he said your name “damn, is it really you?” he chuckled “you look great.”

“thanks,” you said, smiling “I never had the chance to wear something like this before but since silco is in a good mood…”

“and it suits you. everyone’s eyeing you like a piece of meat, I don’t know if you can tell.”

“yeah, well. they don’t matter,” you looked around “where’s sevika, by the way?”

because she was the only one that mattered.

she was the reason why you even showed up looking like this, why you got out of your comfort zone even though these types of settings weren’t your thing, but you tried, because you wanted to prove yourself to her.

thieram turned to the side and pointed to his left “she arrived about an hour ago.”

you stood up and were about make your way towards her when the sight that greeted you quickly stopped you dead in your tracks, all previous excitement dying as you sunk to the nearest stool.

because there, in her usual booth, sat sevika with not one, but two girls cozied up against her sides while one of them was practically sitting on her lap, and the other was kissing along her neck while a cigarillo was dangling from her mouth. making more room for them to grind against her as she whispered in one of their ears, causing the girl to giggle as she grabbed sevika’s jaw and connected their lips.

you took a step back as your chest begun to feel heavy, while the room suddenly felt ten times more crowded as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you because of course, this just had to happen.

how dare you think you had a chance when she went out of her way to bring two of babette’s girls to this blasted party when she already visits them on a regular basis. how dare you think you ever stood a chance against these girls, with their pristine clothing, nicely styled hair and perfect bodies.

you wanted the world to swallow you whole.

“hey, you okay?” thieram asked as your breathing became shallow.

you nodded, harshly swiping the tears that threatened to spill at the corners of your eyes as you walked back to the exit.

“y-yeah, I’m just-“

in your stupor, you didn’t even realize a man was behind you not until you bumped into him, causing him to spill his drink and cuss you out as you started apologizing, creating a commotion.

“I’m so sorry!” you said, your cheeks heating up as you looked around the room before your eyes landed on her again.

but this time, sevika was staring straight at you.

swallowing nervously, you pushed past the sea of people and made your way out of the bar, not even bothering to say goodbye to thieram as you busted through the doors of the back exit, breathing heavily as you slid against the wall of the bar, with your hands on your knees and your tears ruining your makeup.

you should’ve known this was a mistake. you mentally scolded yourself over and over because who were you fooling when you thought sevika would spare a glance your way? even if you dolled yourself up, in the end sevika had countless of women to choose from, and you were never going to be an option. no matter how hard you tried.

stewing in self-pity, you wiped away at your cheeks and stood back up, planning to just head back home and forget the night even happened when the doors of the bar suddenly burst open, making you jump as you whipped around, and your breath hitched when you were met with sevika’s steely grey eyes.

she assessed your frenzied state, staring just a bit longer at your attire, scanning your legs up to your thighs until it stopped at your chest, which was heaving erratically, drawing attention to your cleavage.

“leaving so soon?” she quipped, not hiding the shameful way she was ogling at you “especially when you look this pretty?”

biting your tongue, you tried so hard not to let her words get to you. no. this is what she does, she butters you up and makes you think you have a chance then she turns around and makes you feel like utter shit. this is what she does and you’re not going to sit around making an idiot out of yourself.

“I’m just not feeling good is all.” you said as you attempted to walk past her.

but you were immediately stopped when she grabbed your arm, though her touch was gentle “let me walk you home. it’s not safe especially when you’re out here dressed like that.”

you couldn’t stop yourself, you were filled with so much unnecessary bitterness that as soon as those words left her mouth, you could only scoff before ripping away your arm, causing her to look at you with her eyebrow raised.

“I can handle myself, just go back to those girls that were all over you. it seemed like you were having a great time with them anyways.” you spat, attempting to bristle past her.

however, you gasped when she not only blocked your path but abruptly pushed your body against the wall of the building. not too harsh but with enough force to make you look up at her in compliance.

she towered over your smaller form and took your chin using her prosthetic hand, her metal fingers making you shiver as her breath mingled with your own.

“what’s with the attitude?”

“just let me go-“

“the fuck I will,” she cut you off, her tone harsh “now, I’ll ask again, what’s with the attitude? you’re never like this.”

you clenched your jaw “never like what? you don’t even know me enough to make assumptions of how I normally act.”

“like a bitch is what I’m saying,” she said through her teeth “seriously, what crawled up your ass? you show up looking like this and you can’t even be bothered to stick around let alone have a drink,”

“why should I?” you shook your head “you looked too busy anyways. just forget it and go back to those-“

“what’s with you and the girls I brough-“

“because why waste your time on me?” the dam finally broke, and all your thoughts came flooding out as sevika blinked at you, dumbfounded “you never give me the time of the day even though we’ve been working for so long, and it had to take me getting injured for you to even strike up a conversation with me. you’re always at the gardens and I know it’s none of my business what you do with your time but just…”

you looked to your feet, regret washing in “just forget it. it’s so stupid.”

however, her grip on you only tightened “no, you’re right. it is none of your business, that’s why I want to know why you’re acting this way. I’m not a mind reader, princess. you can’t expect me to know what you want and you haven’t really made it easy either. you think I wanted to wait that long to approach you? talking goes both ways. and you avoiding me so much in the past hasn’t really given me the chance to get to know you. fuck, I even thought…”

you waited for her to finish as she faced away from you “thought what?” you said, your voice merely a whisper.

she sighed as she pressed her body closer to you “I thought you didn’t like me. you never a spoke a word to me but I’ve always noticed you. you’re so good at your job but you only kept to yourself. I just thought you found me and the others too vulgar. I get it. we’re different. but then you had a drink with me and you seemed genuinely interested…”

you inhaled sharply “I was, and still am.”

“then what’s the matter? why are you acting like you’re disgusted with me all of a sudden?”

“it’s not you! it’s just…” you let out a shaky breath “it’s just hard to be around you because I’ve always noticed you too. I was just intimidated but I’ve admired your work ethic, just everything about you really, so much that I even… god, it’s embarrassing.”

“no,” she pulled you closer “tell me,”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, looking away “it’s silly.”

she lifted her flesh hand and pushed away the strands of hair that fell over your face. leaning closer that you felt her lips brush against your cheek.

“you got a little crush on me is what you’re saying?” her mouth quirked into a teasing grin as you groaned, trying to push her away.

“you’re such an ass…” you muttered as her hands slowly maneuvered down to your thighs, and suddenly, she was lifting you by her arms and against the wall as you squealed.

her nose nudged your jaw, leaving a soft kiss underneath and your hands found purchase on her strong shoulders.

“you should’ve told me sooner…” she purred, her voice deep and enticing “it would’ve saved me a hell lot of money from visiting the gardens when I could’ve had you all this time.”

you weren’t given the chance to speak when she suddenly captured your lips in a fervent kiss, making you gasp as she lets out a growl hearing your needy whines.

eventually, you surrendered to it, moving in sync with the frenzied way she was kissing you. almost as if she was just as desperate for this as you were.

you rolled your hips against her torso and sevika lets out a chuckle at your urgency, taking your legs as she wrapped them around her waist.

she took the ends of your dress and pulled them up, tearing your tights down and you let out a whine “s-sev… we’re outside-“

“then let them hear,” her breathing was staggered from all the movement “I’ve waited for this for so long.“

you bit your lip “yeah?”

she nodded, slipping your tights off your legs and discarding them to the side “if you think whatever feelings you’ve had for me was one-sided, you thought wrong.” she kissed your lips with bruising force and you could only moan against her mouth “ever since I laid eyes on silco’s pretty little informant, you’ve always been on my mind.”

her fingers felt down your covered cunt, and you writhed against her palm as she pushed past the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them off, teasing you as your slick met her calloused fingers, making her head spin “you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you, princess?” she asked softly.

you nodded as you begun soaking her palm with your juices, riding her fingers and she parted your folds, thumbing at your clit before she slid one finger in, feeling at your gummy walls before adding a second finger and soon, she was scissoring them in you as your forehead dropped to her shoulder.

jostling in her hold as your body shook, she curled her fingers and started a slow pace that got you moaning her name, and she nodded at your desperate sounds “yeah, that’s it, baby. let everybody know how much you needed this.”

she bent her head down and nipped at your jaw while you humped her scarred hand in earnest “you should’ve fucking told me sooner. do you know how much torture it was to see you walk around the office, all pretty and shy, and not wanting to make a move because I thought you didn’t like me? when all this time your tight little pussy has been weeping for me to fill it.”

you cried out, getting closer to that awaited peak especially when she starts to piston her thick fingers inside you at a maddening speed “I needed this so much, sev. fuck.” you admitted, completely lack of shame.

“I know, baby. now that I know how much you’ve needed this I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” she said and you opened your tear stained eyes to look at her.

“do I feel better than the girls you’ve had before?” you whispered and she nodded, an urgency to it as if she wanted to drill it inside your head that she means every word.

“fuck yeah, baby. I can’t wait to have you in every way that I like. on my tongue, around my fingers…” you let out the most obscene moan at her words “and my cock.”

your orgasm tore through you like a punch to the gut, your mouth falling open into a guttural cry as you creamed against her fingers while she kept curling them inside you, already feeling overstimulated while she talked you through it.

“that’s it…” she said in awe “you feel so good, baby.”

she slowly pulled her fingers out of you and you whined at the loss. but your eyes widened when suddenly sevika planted your wobbly legs down onto the ground and knelt down in front of you and started lapping away at your soaked pussy, her pupils blown wide as she began cleaning you up.

once she was done, she stood up and helped you into your underwear, breathing heavily before connecting her lips with yours. you melted as you tasted yourself on her tongue and the kiss was warmer, gentler this time.

she pulled away, leaning her forehead against yours “let me take you out?”

it took a while for your mind to process her words, still fuzzy from the aftermath of your orgasm but once it sunk in, you could only chuckle as you smiled up at her.

“usually you’d ask that first then try to have sex with me in an alley…”

there was a playful glint in her eyes “what can I say, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

you hummed, cupping her face as you drew her in for another kiss.

“yeah, me neither.”

[thebastardscull]

May I request some NSFW Sevika headcannons? I love your writing btw! 💚

Of course! This is my first time writing NSFW stuff though, so please be kind 💕

18+ only, minors do not interact

In cannon? She knows what she’s doing! She knows how sexy she is. You’ve seen that smirk and the way she carries herself. I firmly believe she was very popular with the girls at Babette’s because she knows how to lay it down. Definitely vers/switchy but usually only when she’s in a relationship with someone or very very comfortable around them. There was a girl named Selina at the brothel she would bottom for, but she moved away from Zaun and she hadn’t bottomed for anyone else until you.

She’s so sweet in bed. But that’s really hard for you to remember when your knees are pressed to your chest, she’s pushing the back of your thighs down with one hand while the other drives her fingers into your cunt with a blinding force. Each push and pull making a sloppy ‘shlick shlick shlick’ sound that’s barely audible over your gasps and cries.

God, she’s so fucking sweet. And she runs her mouth when you’re under her, silver eyes locked on your messy, clenching hole. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby.” She’ll say. Or; “Love this pussy. I love you. I’m gonna keep you all to myself, pretty girl.” And her favorite, “Can’t wait to marry you. Can’t wait to make my wifey feel so fucking good. Yeah? You wanna be my wife? Yeah you fucking do.” (Refers to herself as husband but that’s another story.)

But when she bottoms? She’s pathetic. Whether you’re grinding your clit onto hers or bottoming out into her with the strap (one of the bigger ones, she’s a size queen), she’s a whining, wriggling mess. “Please please please! I -ah!- faster baby please!” She pants and bucks her hips and scrunches her pretty eyes together when you hit that perfect spot inside her. Baby girl loves getting her nipples bit/licked/pinched/sucked! They’re sooo sensitive, especially with her piercings. “Mmph- baby I think I’m gonna cum if you bite them again.”

She gets so. wet. Her inner thighs are coated with her cum, it makes a mess of the sheets under her. If you’re using the strap, 99.9% of the time it’ll be on your pelvis and on the front of your thighs. Don’t worry though, she’ll make sure she’s cleaned you up before she’s putting her mouth on your cunt.

Isn’t shy about sitting on your face. She’s built like a brick shit house, but she knows you love it. She grips your hair in her hand while she rides your face, shamelessly pulling you closer to her while she uses your mouth. Her muscular thighs clench around your head and she’ll suffocate you a little bit. But if you die, this is a good way to go out. “Your mouth feels so good, Janna, just like that baby.”

Whines when she cums. It’s a cute, high-pitched sound that makes her jaw drop open as she quivers and shakes. She cums hard. Grabbing you or the sheets or anything she can get her hands on. Your back is regularly marked with red lines that she places delicate kisses to once you’re done.

Loves giving you hickeys! She’s sloppy and feral with it. Open mouthed kisses, suckling and licking and the soft skin of your neck, shoulder, breasts, or thighs. She doesn’t mind if you cover them up, but if you’re wearing clothes that openly show them off? Don’t think for a second that she’s not pulling you into a dark alley or a bathroom somewhere to show you just how much she likes it.

—

Author’s note:

So I’ve never written anything remotely smutty in my life but I really hope you guys like this one! My brain is running on 20% right now so forgive me if this is a little scattered 😭

As always, my asks are open and I’d love to hear your ideas! Kisses 💕

[youchangedmedestiel]

You know Cas probably learned how it feels to be touched gently from Dean.

[baby-yongbok]

Come Back Soon

Bang Chan × afab!reader

✮ Genre: Smut, Sex Worker!Bang Chan ✮ Word count: 5k ✮ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors DNI), sex work (Like a sexy host club kinda?), oral (m rec.), nipple play, unprotected sex, Reader is called pretty (a lot..) ✮ Summary: Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ✮ A/N: Bang Chan + Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter as requested by this anon! Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✮ Masterlist✮

In your defense, it’s not a brothel. It just kind of operates like one.

You heard about Railway from a friend of a friend. It’s a hole in the wall club that she swears is a gem. You looked it up and found close to nothing. There was only a small reddit community of people in your area asking questions about this mystery place. Here’s what you gathered:

It’s a club where women can meet men and pay for attention. Whether or not that attention includes your clothes being ripped off in a private room or a tongue down your throat is up to you. 

You decided to visit one Thursday when your Tinder match was being flaky and you were sick of waiting for replies from men who were either a catfish or can’t find the clit. 

The place was hard to find. You walked passed it twice before you realized that you needed to go down the sketchy staircase next to the hotpot restaurant. 

You expected a place packed and run down with women all over the men working there. You expected a mess and you were met with the opposite. The space was clean, pretty and not nearly wild enough to be considered a club. There are red curved couches and lounge nooks all around. A fully stocked bar and music playing loudly but not so loud that you need to yell. This is not at all what you imagined. 

You learned that night that the only guys in the club were the ones working there. They come up to you, charm you, and only stay if you want them to. If you decline they’re onto the next. 

You spent some time there, got some attention but it wasn’t until your eyes met his that you really felt like you were getting the attention you desired. He was in a suit, no shirt underneath the jacket and looking damn good while doing it. He walked into the room like he was six foot two even though he’s just about average height, it doesn’t matter to you though - he’s hot. 

Once he saw you he went straight for you, walking over like he had all of the time in the world. You sat pretty on the couch, sitting up a bit straighter and sipping your drink like you didn’t even notice him. He thought that was cute. 

“Excuse me.” Oh? Is that an accent you hear? You hum, looking up at him like he didn’t have your attention from the moment he walked in. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?”

That’s how you ended up meeting Chris. 

The two of you sat and spoke for at least thirty minutes before his cautious touches turned into much more and a make-out session in one of the lounge nooks. 

He pulled you into his lap, hands on your hips and pretty sounds clashing with yours. You considered taking it further for a second, just a second before your phone rang and your friend effectively cockblocked you. Chris thought it was funny. He smiled while you pouted about having to leave but he didn’t let you go without another kiss - deep and lingering. His tongue on yours and those pretty hands on your hips.

“Come back soon, yeah?” He smiled up at you, his eyes turning into gleaming crescents and you were hooked. Unfortunately, the soon that you promised him wasn’t as soon as you wanted. 

Work has been hectic, your friends have been messy and you’ve just been busy. Every plan that you had to return got canceled until tonight, Christmas Eve. You threw on a red sheer dress and put your phone on Do Not Disturb. When you get to the club this time there’s a guy at the door, a cute blonde with a deep voice and pretty accent. He gives you a card with some instructions for the night. You look it over and turn to him.

“Wait, how does this work?” He smiles - fuck, he’s hot - and points out the QR code on the card. 

“You can scan this to get the clubs app. Then you go to the event tab, press the holiday party chat and it will match you with a random guy from the club. You chat anonymously and if you like him you can take it further. If you don’t like him you can unmatch the chat and try again.” You nod, half entranced by his voice and half listening. 

You nod at him, smiling sweetly but his smile has got you beat. Is he on the app? Gosh. 

You head over to the bar and order a drink then scan the code. You open the app and it’s surprisingly smooth. You follow the instructions that the hot blonde gave you and go to the holiday party chat. A button pops up with big pretty letters reading “Spin”, so you do. Two seconds pass and the bartender is sliding you your drink while you get connected to a chat. This is interesting. 

So, the guys are nice. Really nice, but there’s no spark. You’re on your second drink and you just unmatched your second chat. You look around the club, the men are dressed in sexy, festive all white outfits with their main charming point on display to lure attention. 

 You scan the room looking for that familiar face you made out with a month ago but there’s no sign of him. You sigh, deciding to try your luck and press the pretty button on your phone again. You get connected to someone new and they start off the conversation just as the others did, sweet.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here alone on Christmas eve?”

You sip your drink, typing a reply and waiting less than a second to get one back. 

- You think I’m pretty? You don’t even know who I am yet. - “Let’s play a game then, yeah? I’ll guess.”

Oh? This is getting interesting.

- And if you guess the wrong pretty girl? - “Then unmatch me.”  - “If I don’t recognize you then I don’t deserve your time.”

Wait… did he say recognize? Like he knows you? Knows what you look like? You look around again, searching for Chris. You’d recognize him in a heartbeat but he’s nowhere to be found. You turn your attention back to the app to see that your match has texted again. 

- “Deal?”

You hesitate but agree. You wait with bated breath as you watch the little chat bubble pop up.

- “By the bar? Sinful little red dress.”

You stare at his answer then look around again. What the hell?

- “You didn’t unmatch. I knew I had the right pretty lady.” - Lucky guess, I’m not the only pretty girl in a red dress. 

You scoff, getting ready to unmatch when he texts back.

- “But you’re the only one here tonight that I was hoping to see again.” - “The only one here that I’ve had my eye on for far longer than I should.” - “The only one I was hoping to match with so I can kiss those pretty lips again.”

Oh fuck, it’s him. Thank the heavens.

- Oh? Is this the guy with the cute accent? - “Pretending that you don’t remember my name? I’m hurt.”

You smile, finishing your drink and texting back. Suddenly you’re having a good time. A very good one. 

- Remind me of it. - “Oh, I plan to”

The chat is ended before you can text back and your heart drops. What happened? Did you actually hurt his feelings? What does he mean he plans to? The bartender interrupts your flurry of wonder before you can go any deeper. He slides you a shot and you furrow your brows. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t order this.” The bartender smiles at you and nods to the other side of the bar. “It’s from him. On his tab.”

You turn around and your heart drops to the center of the earth. Chris is there. White fur jacket, white pants and no shirt. He’s leaning against the bar with a grin that you’d like to kiss off of his stupidly handsome face. How could you forget to look behind you? 

You lock your phone and turn your bar stool to face him. He’s sipping on something while his eyes roam down from yours and over the curve of your neck then the swell of your chest. He’s practically eye fucking you and you have no idea what to do about it. So you take the shot. 

The burn of the alcohol along with the desire bubbling in your core is enough to steel you for the moment that Chris pushes back off of the bar and makes his way over to you. You get a full view of him as he walks over and part of you starts foaming at the mouth while the other part of you has to hold down the fort and act normal about this. 

“Excuse me.” His thick accent rings through your ears and you grin. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?” 

“Is that your pick up line or something?” The dopey smile on your face gives Chris all the confirmation he needs to take the empty seat next to you. “You should come up with something new.”

“Is that right? Any suggestions?” Damn it, he’s still as hot as you remember. “I could just tell you how stunning you look in this dress instead.” 

You feel a flush creep up your neck at his compliment. "That's a start," you manage to say, trying to keep your cool. "But I've heard better."

Chris smiles leaning in a tad bit closer. Just enough for you to notice, "Oh? Then I'll have to up my game." His eyes sparkle with mischief. "How about this - I've been waiting to see you again every night for a month. I was starting to worry I'd lost my touch. What good am I if I can’t get the prettiest woman coming back to see me?"

You laugh, the tension easing slightly. "Maybe I was just playing hard to get."

"Were you now?" Chris raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And here I thought you forgot about me."

"Trust me, it's impossible to forget about you," Your mouth was moving before you could stop yourself. We’ll blame that on the alcohol. 

“You’ve thought about me then?” He asks with a smile that’s much sweeter than any other that you’ve seen tonight.

Fuck it, let loose, It’s Christmas eve. 

“Maybe I have, but the details are classified.” That takes his sweet smile and turns it into a blush real quick. You can’t help but mirror him since you just indirectly admitted to thinking of him while you had some solo play over the past month - which is one hundred percent true.

“Classified, hm?” He speaks up, nodding. “I’ve thought about you too. And those details are free to the public. If you ask for them.”

Your heart races at his bold admission. That was unexpected. You lean in closer, your voice lowering to a sultry whisper. "And what if I did ask?"

Chris' eyes darken ever so slighty. He leans in too, his breath hot against your ear. "Then I'd tell you how I've imagined your soft skin under my hands, the taste of your lips, the sound of your moans as I..."

He trails off, pulling back slightly to gauge your reaction. Your breath catches in your throat, heat pooling low in your belly.

"As you what?" You breathe, unable to look away from his intense gaze.

Chris grins, hoping that he has you hooked. "On second thought, that information is classified. The rest you'll have to find out from experience."

You swallow hard, your mind racing with possibilities. "And how exactly would I do that?"

He reaches out, his fingers trailing lightly over your hand that’s resting on the bar. 

“Come with me downstairs.” There’s a downstairs to this place? “I’ll get you away from the noise and then we can make some of our own.” 

Your heart races as you consider his offer. Every bit of you is screaming at you to take his offer and bring your lingering fantasies to life but you still try to play hard to get. At least you were going to before the alcohol and desire coursing through your veins drowned everything out and had you nodding in a quick second. 

"Lead the way" You say, your voice huskier than intended.

Chris' eyes light up with a mix of surprise and excitement. He stands, offering you his hand before you could even dare to change your mind. You take it, relishing the warmth of his skin against yours. As you slide off the barstool, you take him in and realize just how little justice your memory of him does for his insane body.

He guides you through the semi-crowded club, his hand on the small of your back sending shivers up your spine. You follow him down a narrow staircase, the music fading as you descend. The basement level is dimly lit, with plush velvet sofas and private alcoves tucked away in corners.

He leads you over to one of the private spaces, very few of them are free but he leads you to the one in the corner like it was reserved just for him. “After you.” You step into the cozy space. There’s a couch on one side, a semi-sofa on the other with a small table next to it, then there’s nothing but a bare wall.

Chris slides the door shut behind the two of you as he steps in and it’s almost like you’ve entered your own soundproof barrier.

He almost looks sheepish when he steps forward to close the space between the two of you. His hand finds its way back to the small of your back, his touch gentle and warm. You turn to face him fully, his proximity making your heart race.

"Now where were we?" He whispers, his shy smile turning into a more sly one. You look up at him, unable to tear your gaze away from his. 

"I like your coat." You comment, changing the subject to buy yourself time to calm down but the desire thick in your tone lets you know that there’s little that you can do to calm yourself. "It looks good on you."

He grins, "It would look better on you." Before you can protest he's shrugging the long white fur off of his shoulders, leaving his broad build open on display for you. You stare, taking in each dip and curve of his chest and stomach. How could you not?

He drapes the coat over your shoulders and you smile in a nearly futile attempt to stop the moan clawing up your throat when you realize that the warm fabric smells like him. You slip your arms in the sleeves and Chris hums in approval.

"Now..." He brushes your hair back, his gaze shifting into something more possessive now that you're wearing his coat. "Where were we?"

"Right about here, I think." 

Before he can react your lips are on his in a hungry and demanding kiss. We'll blame this on the alcohol too.

 You melt into him, your hands indulgently taking in the soft skin of his bare shoulders while he returns your passion. His tongue traces along your bottom lip and you part them, allowing him entry. 

He groans into the kiss, his hands finding purchase on your waist for just a second before he lets them trail up under the fabric of his coat and over the sheer of your dress. Every inch of you that he takes in is better than anything he could've imagined in the month that you've been on his mind.

 He pulls you closer, his desire getting the better of him. He has to know what you feel like against him. He just has to.

 You can feel his erection pressing into your hip and a rush of arousal floods between your thighs. 

Your hands explore his chest, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. He pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with need.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his accent sending shivers down your spine. "This is part of those classified details, ya know."

"Mine too." you admit, biting your lip. "So don't stop."

With a growl, Chris captures your lips once more, his hands sliding further up your back just to slide back down to your waist. You press yourself against him, craving every bit of him you can get your hands on. The proximity deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, leaving you breathless.

His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing them through the fabric of your dress. A soft moan escapes you and he swallows it, his lips trail kisses along your jaw and down to the sensitive spot on your neck. You squirm against him, his touch driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Chris," You gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Say my name again," He breathes, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Chris," You whimper, his name slipping from your lips without a second thought.

His hands leave their exploration of your curves and trail their way up the backs of your thighs and over the curve of your ass. He lifts you up, bypassing both sofas to pin you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his bare torso, pushing his pants down lower on his hips. Once he has you settled he begins to work his way down your neck, his lips setting off a blazing trail of fire across your skin.

"So soft," he mumbles, his accent thicker now, betraying his growing desire.

His mouth trails back up to yours, stamping a hot kiss against your lips and pulling away right after. You whine, chasing his lips with yours. 

"Impatient, are we?" He chuckles, his hands pushing the bunched up fabric of your dress further up your thighs. You shiver, goosebumps forming where his fingertips brush against your skin.

"You're doing everything right, how could I not be." 

"Oh? Is that so?" He hums, his lips brush over yours teasingly.

"It is." You breathe, your hands moving over his shoulders to tangle in his hair. This time you kiss him, it’s deep and indulgent but then you break it to kiss over his jaw. 

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" He groans, his thumbs stroking the smooth skin of your thighs. It’s taking all of his self control not to absolutely rip you apart.

"Me?" You breathe, smiling against his skin as you place another kiss. "I'm not the one whose been flaunting around the club half-naked all night. And now you’re here teasing me."

Your teeth graze over the shell of his ear and his cock jumps in his pants. He moves swiftly yet gently, turning to lay you down on the sofa. 

“Am I being a tease?” He asks, staring down at you with those dark brown eyes while his hands work on his belt. You watch the way his fingers move so strategically. The veins in his hands alone are enough to get you feeling hotter. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s diving down to attach your lips before you can even answer. His hands smooth over your curves hurriedly until he reminds himself to take his time with you. His hands are back on your breasts, pulling down the red fabric of your dress to expose you to him. He catches himself, stopping and pulling back just a bit.

“Can I see you? Is that alright?” You nod, whimpering a hasty “yes” then crashing your lips back to his. He moans against you, pulling down the last of the fabric containing your breasts until they’re resting in his palms. He groans and you swallow it. 

Chris lighty pinches and pulls at your nipples, the buds rise at the attention and you moan in response. "You like that?"

"Yes," Your fingers tangle in his hair and tug. "How about this?" He rolls one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your head falling back.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you." He dips his head down and takes one of the stiff peaks into his mouth. The sound it pulls from you is unbecoming but you ignore the embarrassment lingering in your chest and let the pleasure spread further. 

Chris on the other hand, is in love with every sound you make and he’s determined to hear more. His teeth graze over your nipple. Your grip tightens, a louder moan escaping you. "Just like that."

His hands trail down, pulling your dress further up your thighs until the black lace covering your soaked sex is in full view. His hands stroking the underside of your thighs, teasing you further and you nearly fall apart at the seams.

"Chris," You moan, grinding up into him. Begging for him to touch you where you need him most.

"How wet are you, pretty girl?" He coos, his hand slides up between your legs. You gasp and he groans when his fingers trace over the lace of your panties. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Please," You beg, bucking against his hand. "You’re driving me crazy." His thumb circles over your clit and your hips rock in time with his movements. You're already so close, and he's barely touched you.

His tongue darts out to lick over your neglected nipple. You shudder, your nails dig into his shoulders and he hisses at the sweet sting.

"I want you," you plead, trailing a hand down the expanse of his back. He continues his ministrations, kissing and nipping at your sensitive bud while his fingers work smooth circles over your clit. 

Your legs are practically shaking with desire but your needy whimpers are nothing compared to all that Chris is holding back while he strokes himself on his knees in front of you. You’ve hardly noticed that his hard cock is in his hand, leaking and angry red at the tip but that’s only because he’s swallowing every moan that he possibly can just so that he can hear you clearly. He wants to remember this.  

"Chris," you moan, grinding up against his touch. He pulls back, letting your nipple go with a faint pop.

"What is it, love?" His face is twisted in pleasure as he pants, trying desperately to keep himself in check.

"I need you," You whine, grabbing and rubbing over his bare chest until you grab hold of one of his chains.

"Tell me what you want." He wants to hear you say it. He needs to.

"Fuck me." You breathe, your cheeks flushed. "Please."

Chris doesn't need any further encouragement. In a swift motion, he's standing and lifting you up again. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss and you melt against him.

He turns around and sits down with you straddling him. His bare cock rests against the soaked lace of your panties and he can’t help but to make a sound that he didn’t know was possible. 

His hands grip your hips, digging in like you're the only thing grounding him to reality. "You're sure about this?" 

He asks, his voice low and rough. You nod, reaching between you to move your panties to the side and sit your bare cunt over his length. He hisses, his breath catching in his throat "Oh, fuck." His head falls back against the sofa.

"Let me ride you," You whisper, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. Chris’ face is red, blushed crazy with desperate desire and restraint. You lift up and pump his cock, spreading your dripping slick and getting him nice and wet before you sink down. 

You two are a splitting image of each other. Faces twisted in pleasure, fingers digging into the other and choked moans spilling over your kiss swollen lips. 

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groans, holding his breath just to make sure he doesn’t bust too fast. "So tight."

“You’re fucking big. Oh god.” Your head falls back, eyes shut tight as you take in the stretch of him. 

Chris hisses, his hips instinctively bucking up into you. "Shit, sorry. Are you okay?" 

He holds still, his hands massaging the swell of your ass. You nod, adjusting to his size. "Yeah, just please move. Don’t stop." 

You're impatient, rocking your hips against him. Chris is quick to give in, rocking his hips up slowly until he loses it and starts snapping his hips up into yours. He drives his cock deep and hard into your fluttering cunt and you clench around him wildly, fucking down onto him like he’s the last man you’ll ever touch. 

You can feel every inch of him, his length dragging along your walls and hitting every spot inside you. It's like the two of you are a perfect fit. Chris' hands roam over your body, mapping every inch of exposed skin. 

"So fucking beautiful," he mutters, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face. "Look at you, taking me so well." He holds your hips still, keeping you in place while he fucks his thick length up into you. You cling to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he fucks into you. 

Chris' eyes flutter shut, a string of curses falling from his lips. His fingers dig into your hips with each bounce of you on his cock. 

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" He grunts and you clench, driving him closer to the edge. “Is that what you thought about?”

The sounds coming from the both of you are filthy. Pornographic in nature and incessant. 

"Y-yes," you manage to gasp, your fingers digging into the muscles of his chest, surely leaving marks to remember you by. "Just like that. Oh, oh fuck, Chris. You're gonna make me cum." 

Your words send him reeling, his thrusts faltering slightly. "Do it, baby," he rasps, his eyes burning into yours. "Cum all over my cock." 

The coil in your belly snaps, his name spilling from your lips as you cum. Your release has his head spinning. The tight squeeze of your cunt and the sounds he has vibrating from your chest drag him closer to his own blinding release. He holds back, fucking you through your high with a sloppy rhythm. 

"Fuck, I'm close." You pry his grip from your hips and lift up off of him, sinking down to your knees. You look prettier than Chris can handle, on your knees with his fur coat pooling around you. Your lips wrap around his throbbing cock and he moans, his hand finding purchase in your hair immediately.

"Shit, yes, oh god." He breathes, his hips rocking forward. "So good, jus’ like that." A deep, guttural moan escapes his lips and his hips stutter. "Fuck, oh fuck." 

His eyes shut tight as you bury his cock deep in your throat, swallowing around him and milking his chest dry of every last ounce of oxygen he possessed.

You hum, reaching down between your legs and rubbing your throbbing pussy while he makes such pretty sounds above you.

"’M gonna cum," He groans, his accent thick and his grip on your hair tightening. You keep your pace, bringing your hand up to stroke what can’t fit into your mouth as you suck and lick him like you know everything that drives him crazy - because somehow, you do.

His jaw clenches, his abs tense and the muscles in his neck strain and suddenly you wish that you were still on top of him, letting him fill you full of his sticky seed but that will have to wait until next time. 

Chris tenses above you, a loud groan erupting from him as the first spurt of hot cum falls against your tongue. 

"Fuck, oh, fuck. Just like that, baby. ‘M cumming for you, take it all." He shudders, rambling as his body jerks as he spills himself down your throat. You swallow him greedily, his sweet taste lingering on your tongue. 

Chris' breathing is heavy, his chest rises and falls rapidly while he watches you. You pull up off of him, kissing the head of his twitching dick while his heart races.

You smile at him, "Good?" You ask, wiping the corners of your mouth. “Are you kidding me?” Chris huffs out a breathy laugh. "So fucking good." 

"Come here," He mumbles, lifting you up and bringing you to his lap. His coat drags behind you and he runs his hands up under the furry fabric and over your back. “You look so good in this.”

He fixes your dress, bringing it up to cover your exposed chest and smoothes the fabric over your thighs. “Do you say that to every girl you let borrow your clothes?”

Chris smiles, shaking his head and running his greedy hands up your thighs. 

“You're the only girl I’ve ever let wear something of mine. And I’ll keep it that way under one condition.” You smile, resting your own greedy hands over his chest and leaning into him. 

“What would that be?” He cups your cheek bringing you in for a soft kiss, much softer than what’s in his job description. In his defense, he’s never felt this much chemistry with any other lady who’s walked through the front door of this club.

“Come back soon, okay?” He smiles against your lips and kisses you again, whispering this time. “And I’ll make sure that you’re the only one wearing my clothes both inside and outside of the club.”

You mirror his smile, kissing his lips with a tenderness you didn’t foresee when you first met him. 

“Deal.”

Thank You For Reading! 💕

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[cursedyuri]

WILL YOU SHUFFLE ME, SPREAD ME APART?

summary: in the slums of zaun, you’ve carved out a life for yourself which not many would envy. you spend your nights in the arms of strangers, trading coin for hasty touches and labored breaths. and since such a line of work isn’t always enough to keep yourself fed and clothed, you have a second service to offer: fortune telling. 

or... two times vi comes knocking, and a third time you let her in.

18+ only! smut below. cw for fingering (r! receiving), cunnilingus, mentions of sex work, brief mentions of blood. 7k words.

The heels of your boots click against damp cobblestone, wet thumps echoing through the dingy alleyway leading to Babette’s brothel. It’s a particularly humid night, even despite the chill in the air - the humidity makes it worse, you think. It feels like the cold is seeping into the very marrow of your bones. 

You pull your cloth coat tighter over your torso, thankful when you rap on the brothel’s wooden door and are allowed in almost instantly. One step through the threshold, and the biting cold melts like early-spring snow. The air is thick here, too, but warm and smoky. Tobacco stings sweet in your nose, a cocktail of too-strong perfumes mixing with ribbons of incense that linger suspended midair. It’s an intoxicating kind of smell, one that makes weak women and weaker men feel more inclined to spend their hard-earned coin on a night with a stranger. 

Part of you is hoping none will choose you tonight. It’s not that you’re opposed to it - gods know you’d be in the wrong line of work if you were. Rather, you’ve got plans to eat the meager dinner you’ve purchased for yourself, sip some red wine, and rifle through your cards for answers about what’s been going on topside lately. You’ve heard murmurs of an attack, rebellion… You’re not exactly sure what to believe, so as you often do, you look to the cards for clarity. 

The deck sits idly by a thicket of half-burnt herbs on your desk, stacked precariously where you’d last used them. You shed your coat and hang it on a brass hook by the desk, then slide into the seat in front of it. Still thawing, you sink into the velvet cushion and reach into your knapsack for the paper-wrapped sandwich inside, also procuring an unmarked bottle of wine from beside it. You’re wiping an iron goblet clean with the fabric of your tiered skirt when a familiar voice calls your name from the doorway. It’s one of the other workers here, Nina. She’s been here just about as long as you.

“You might hate me,” she says, a preface that makes your lips turn downward in a frown. 

You grunt, uncorking your wine and pouring a hearty serving into your goblet. By the sounds of it, you’ll need the liquid courage. “I just sat down, you know.”

Nina’s delicate brows pull together; maybe she’s feeling apologetic, or maybe she’s just laying it on thick so you’ll take a job before you’ve even had dinner. 

“I thought so, but… I think you’ll like her, peach.” She pauses for a beat. “And if you take her, I may have some chocolate I’d consider parting with.”

“Bribery,” you say, a grin pulling at your lips as you roll your eyes at Nina’s offer. “But fine. Send her in.”

“Will do, peach,” Nina practically squeals, disappearing from your doorway just as quickly as she’d come. 

Cursing under your breath, you take a swig of wine and turn to the tarnished mirror behind your desk, examining yourself. By some stroke of luck, you’d had the sense to put on a layer of makeup before you’d gone out earlier. Blemishes are covered, your eyes are rimmed with kohl, and a smear of rouge emphasizes the pouty shape of your lips. That’s all you ever need, paired with the eye-catching swell of your breasts against the low-cut linen of your blouse. This will be easy enough.

You’ve drained half the wine in your cup by the time your client knocks at the open door. You turn your head to greet her and, before you can get a word out, the door slams closed with a heavy thud. At first, you gawk at the client because of her notable entrance - but then, you gawk because Nina was right. You like her.

This girl looks like the undercity chewed her up, spit her out, then chewed her up again. She’s all sharp edges and leather and lipstick, black makeup smeared from her eyes to her cheeks. Her hair’s black, too, though you can see patches of red exposed from an uneven dye job and a few heavy-handed washes. She’s certainly achieved the menacing look she’s sought out, and though it’s a mighty contrast to her pale complexion and piercing blue eyes, it somehow works for her - she’s the kind of girl you wouldn’t mind getting dirty for. 

“Good evening,” you say, because it’s all you can seem to think of to break the silence. “Would you like a drink?”

The client surveys you up and down with those icy blue eyes, working her jaw. She nods. “What do you have?”

“Wine, whiskey, gin,” you tell her, gesturing to the makeshift bar cart beside a loveseat at the entrance of your suite. Different colored liquors fill antique, mismatched bottles at different levels. The client glances over at them, steps up to the cart and surveys that, too. Then she turns to you, gestures to your goblet.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” 

You nod. “Wine it is, then. Have a seat, I’ll bring it to you.” 

She obliges, lowering herself onto the plum fabric of the loveseat. Her legs are spread just so - enough to make it obvious that this woman is used to taking up space, and unafraid of what that kind of confidence might imply. Your eyes linger on her parted knees, but not long enough to get caught. After you fill up a goblet for her and refill your own, you glide across the room to hand her the drink. She accepts it with a nod of thanks, her fingertips brushing against yours in the process. You take a seat beside her.

“What’s your name?” You regard her behind fluttering lashes, sipping from your freshly filled goblet. The wine is sweet on your tongue, bitter around the edges. You can already feel it loosening your muscles, relaxing your inhibitions. Piquing your curiosity, even. 

The client takes a swig from her own drink and says, “Vi.” 

Vi. Her name is tattooed on her cheekbone, you muse, gaze sweeping over her face once again. There’s a silver hoop pierced through her nose, a scar etched into her upper lip. A healing bruise on her left jaw catches your eye, blooming faint shades of purple, yellow, and green. You’re afflicted with an urge to reach out and touch it - to touch her. But when she catches your gaze with those steely eyes of hers, you’re frozen. Like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar, your cheeks flush hot. Vi seems amused by your appraisal, cracks a smile that looks somehow natural on her war-torn face. 

She cuts through the tension like a spearhead, one hand reaching forward to readjust the sleeve of your blouse, which had fallen down your shoulder. Her fingertips are cold and calloused, but the touch fills you with uncharacteristic warmth. “What’s your name?” 

You tell her and she repeats it, that sultry voice curling around every syllable of your name as if she were tasting it. 

However intoxicating Vi’s voice might be, it dawns on you again what she’s doing here. She’d paid for your time, paid to sip your wine and touch you with those split-knuckled hands of hers. You have the sense to wonder why - a woman like Vi should have no trouble warming her bed for free, yet here she is.

“Well, Vi,” you say, pausing briefly for another sip of wine, “how do you want me?”

If your straightforwardness bothers her, she doesn’t show it. She brushes dark locks of her out of her eye-line, seemingly considering your answer. Then: “I heard you tell fortunes.”

You quirk a brow at her. “I—yes. Is that what you want?”

Something flashes in her eyes. “Among other things.”

“It’s extra for that,” you clarify. “The fortune-telling, I mean.”

“I have enough.”

And that settles it. You uncross your legs, stand up and move to retrieve your deck of cards from the desk. There’s a table in front of the loveseat where Vi still sits, and that’s where you lay out an ornate silk cloth to spread the cards upon. You gather the thicket of herbs from your desk, too, along with a match. Vi watches you set fire to the sprigs, a stream of smoke billowing upwards and filling the air with a sweet, earthy scent. 

“What questions do you have?” You ask, settling down upon a floor pillow on the opposite side of the table from Vi. After you set down your goblet of wine, you pick up the deck and begin to shuffle; the fluttering sounds of cards fills the silence before Vi can answer.

“Do I need to ask questions?”

“No, I guess not,” you respond, shoulders shrugging. “I can just see what the cards say about you.”

Vi nods her assent, tossing her head back to finish what’s left of her wine. One by one, cards fly out from the deck as you shuffle, some upright, some inverted. When you’ve circulated through the deck once or twice with no other cards presenting themselves, you stop. 

“Five of cups,” you read aloud. The card’s illustration depicts a figure in a black cloak, turned away, three emptied cups at her feet. Behind her are two upright cups, unnoticed. “Loss. Mourning.”

Vi inhales sharply through her nose, and when you look up at her, she’s white-knuckled with her hand around the stem of her now-empty goblet. You lift your brows in a wordless question - should you continue? 

She nods.

“Something didn’t work out as you’d planned it, and you’re too stubborn to let go. Instead, you lament the loss and let it hold you hostage.” 

There’s a sound like Vi humming, a quiet acknowledgement of your words as you move to the next card. 

“Four of wands, reversed - this tells me you’ve been separated from loved ones. This is what didn’t work out as planned, maybe?” 

When you look at Vi this time, she’s leaning forward in her seat, forearms braced against her strong thighs. 

“Maybe,” she echoes. “What else is there?”

You show her the next card, another inverted one. The illustration depicts a man in ornate clothing, a flower plucked between his fingers as he prances confidently towards the edge of a cliff. “The fool, reversed.” 

“That’s me?” Vi asks. “The fool?” 

“Hm, not always. But with the other cards… You are the fool, Vi, I’m sorry to say it.” You hope she catches the tinge of playfulness in your tone, serious as the reading feels. Heavy as the tension feels.

“Well,” she starts, “the cards don’t lie, I guess.”

You hum in agreement. “The fool, reversed this way, tells me that you’re reckless. Lacking caution, you’ve opened yourself up to betrayal.” 

“Fuck’s sake.” Vi laughs without humor, tries to drink the last crimson drops of the wine in her goblet. “Can I get some more?”

You move to get up and fetch her the bottle, but she waves a hand to dismiss you. She’s up and across the room in a flash, refilling her cup and taking a swig before she’s even made it back to the loveseat. 

“But…” You hold up her final card - judgement. The art depicts an angel blaring into a trumpet from the heavens, the humans below rejoicing. Her eyes assessing the card, Vi looks to you for an explanation.

“Judgement tells us that renewal and transformation is possible,” you finish

“Renewal, transformation... Right. What’s the catch?”

Smart woman, you think. There’s always a catch. 

“You have to be willing to let go of what’s held you stagnant. Accept what’s behind you and focus on what’s ahead, because wallowing in misfortune does you no good.”

That seems to resonate, because Vi’s expression turns shadowy, thoughtful. She drinks again, her lips nearly purple from the wine. You take a moment to drink from your own cup, ready to ask Vi if she wants you to undress yourself, or if she’s the kind of client who wants to do it for you. 

Instead, you’re stunned into silence when she polishes off her drink, slams the cup down onto the table, and stands. Her jaw is locked again, tense. 

“Vi?” Your brows lift in question. 

“Thank you,” she says. She moves towards the door, then stops when she seems to remember something. One bandaged hand digs into her jacket pocket, emerging with a handful of coin. She places it on the nearest surface, a small table with a lamp glowing atop it, and only glances back towards you before she vanishes out the door. 

There’s a draft in the room, suddenly. You curl into bed, pull the covers over your goosebump-afflicted skin, and think.

The days following Vi’s visit dawn bleak and cold as ever. Nina asks about your client the following morning, and you let her bask in the satisfaction that you had liked her, but you politely break the news that she’d been nothing particularly special - a white lie to keep the questions at bay. You’re not one to run your mouth; besides, rumors spread through Babette’s brothel like wildfire. 

Some of the latest rumors? There’s a man with magical abilities lurking in the shadows of Zaun, with a touch that heals the sick. There’s a blue-haired revolutionary forming a significant following in the undercity, those of whom claim she’ll free them from Piltover’s brutality. You’re not sure what to believe, but there must be some truth to the rumors, because your cards sense something afoot: the tower, ten of swords, ace of cups. 

Still, business continues as usual. Degenerates and saints alike seek your company, and you need the money to survive, so your bed is always warm. 

Because you’ve had dozens of clients over the years who visit and never return, you don’t expect to see Vi again. Still, your mind keeps returning to her - you wonder why she’d stormed out so suddenly, why she’d paid you for sex without laying a finger on you. The curiosity lingers in the back of your mind, but you counter it with reality: she’d probably chickened out. Heard something too striking in her reading and couldn’t follow through, but decided to pay for your time anyway. At most, it was a kind gesture. 

So why can’t you stop thinking about her? 

Weeks pass, and your routine continues. Tonight’s another late night, and you’re relaxing after several clients in a row. You’d bathed in water treated with salts and oils, the scents still clinging to your skin as you rub salve into your aching muscles. The last few clients had been rough - twisting your limbs, working you into positions that tested your flexibility and endurance as they used their tongues, fingers, and other appendages to chase their pleasure through your body. None of them had made you come, though, so in the momentary solitude of the bath, you’d slipped your hand between your legs until your release pulsated through your tired frame. Now, you’re feeling pleasantly warm and at ease, perfumed and ready if there may be a late-night visitor. You’d be grateful for the extra money, if you’re being honest.

When there’s a steady knock at the door, you saunter over to answer it in nothing but your lingerie, lacy black and surprisingly comfortable. Who knows? They might pay extra for such ease of access - and a nice presentation. 

The flirty smile on your lips disappears when you realize who’s on the other side of the door. 

“Gods—Vi?” You try not to express your shock, schooling your features to the best of your ability. Vi, however, turns a pretty shade of pink when she takes in the sight of you: tits pushed together and decorated in delicate lace, the soft hair over your sex barely obscured with thin fabric. Your thighs are plush and glowy with moisture, hips hugged beautifully by the high-waisted panties that match your elaborate bra. 

Vi’s throat bobs with a hard swallow. “I’m… Sorry to interrupt.”

“You weren’t interrupting,” you assure her, opening the door all the way to allow her entry. You try to ignore the way her gaze first moves to the empty bed, something like relief washing over her features before she turns back to you. The door shuts with a soft click. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I thought you were a client.”

After wrapping yourself in the first robe you find by your bedside, you move to the bar cart to pour Vi a drink. She scoffs, an almost-laugh that’s low and soft. “Well, I am a client.”

As the wine sloshes into her goblet, you fix her with an admonishing look. “A client looking for sex, Vi.” 

That shuts her up. Her cheeks are still pink, you notice, as you take in her appearance: most of the dye has faded out of her hair, leaving it a patchy canvas of black, maroon, and fuschia. She’s still sporting a cut and a bruise here and there, but more wounds are covered with bandages than last time. Notably, she’s not drenched in black paint, though there is a ring of liner around her eyes. 

“Thanks,” Vi says when you hand her a cup of wine. She shoots back a mouthful and moves to the loveseat, lowering herself into the same spot as last time.

“So?” You arch a brow at her. “Here for another reading, I take it?”

She nods. “Yeah, sweetheart. If that’s okay.”

“I thought I scared you away last time,” you reply with a smirk. There’s a hint of truth to the statement, though, teasing as you might be - you hadn’t expected to see her back so soon, if at all. 

“Oh, you did,” she admits. “But things have changed, and now… I’m curious what you have to say. I could use some advice.”

“Your wish is my command.” 

Just as it was last time, Vi’s attention is honed in on you. You shuffle the cards with expert precision, and she watches the way your hands dance over the deck, fingers grazing the careful illustrations of each card with easy familiarity. This time, five cards leap from the deck: seven of cups, the chariot, eight of wands, four of wands, eight of pentacles. It’s a story unfolding beneath your fingertips, all the more interesting when you think back to Vi’s last reading.

“You’ve made progress,” you tell her. “But the hard work isn’t over. You’re prone to wishful thinking, which is a good thing, sometimes, because your determination is a powerful force.” 

Glancing up at Vi, you offer her an encouraging smile. “When you fight, I get the sense that you almost always win.”

Vi snorts, wiping a burgundy smear of wine from her mouth with the back of her hand. “That’s what the cards say?”

“Not exactly, but, well… I’ve gathered some things for myself.” You hold up the chariot card. “This one tells me you need an ironclad will to move forward. One I don’t doubt you have.”

Is it just your imagination, or does Vi turn pink again?

“And these,” you say, holding up the two cards from the wand suit, “show me fire. Creation, destruction, volatility. You’re dealing with something that can be useful or detrimental, depending on how you proceed.”

Vi’s eyes are alight, not unlike the fire you’ve just discussed. What you wouldn’t give to know how her life aligns with these cards - what fire is she playing with? What challenges is she facing?

“And the last one?” Vi’s voice cuts through your internal musings as she gestures to the final card on the table. You pick it up and show it to her - the eight of pentacles, depicting a man hard at work, hammer in hand.

“It’s very much in line with the others,” you explain. “Diligence, focus, hard work.”

She hums, nodding. “Got it. So, any chance there's a card that’ll tell me what I should do?”

Her tone drips with sarcasm, but you can tell there’s a glimmer of sincerity in the question - and in those pale blue eyes, swirling with emotion. 

You press your lips into a firm line, setting the eight of pentacles card down. “I wish I could tell you exactly what you want to hear, Vi,” you say honestly. “But that’s not how the cards work.”

“Yeah,” Vi responds, voice bitter around the edges; somber. “I figured as much. Thank you, uh, for the reading.”

In the silence that follows, you imagine a braver version of yourself: one that isn’t too hesitant to ask questions. One that would feel comfortable offering a listening ear to this riot of a woman, whose scars and bruises tell you just as much as the cards you’ve splayed out for her. You wonder where she goes after she leaves here, if that home holds a family, friends, a lover. But all you can do is wonder. You don’t go sniffing for information - like the brothel dweller you are, information finds you. And if it doesn’t, perhaps it’s better to wonder.

Vi rises from the loveseat, readjusting one of the tattered blankets strewn across its surface. She finishes the remainder of her wine and, gently, sets it on the table. 

She says, “I’ve gotta go.”

Her hand dips into her jacket pocket and emerges with far too much coin, which she sets out on the table for you.

“That’s too much,” you counter with a furrowed brow. “We didn’t—you only had your cards read.”

You reach forward to collect the extra cash, ready to push it back into Vi’s palm, but she backs away with her hands in her pockets. 

“Nah, sweetheart,” she replies, ambling towards the door and prying it open. “Keep the change.”

The next time you see Vi, her knuckles are bleeding. 

It’s been weeks, maybe even months, and you’re surprised to find her at your door again, much less in her current state: battered and bruised, her knuckles raw and red. Her shoulders sag, that proud, confident air about her entirely deflated. She’s a shell of the woman you’d first met months ago; all that brazen confidence she’d once had has burnt down to dying embers. 

When she looks at you, her eyes are forlorn, watery. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Oh, Vi…” You open the door further, ushering her in with a gentle hand at the small of her back. 

Inside, you pour her a drink - water, this time - and instruct her to lie down on the bed, draping a thin blanket over her frame. 

“You’re hurt,” you say pointedly, gesturing to her bleeding knuckles. “Can I help?”

Vi’s expression doesn’t change; her eyes are distant, her skin so pale it’s almost grey. But she nods her assent, so you get to work - you swipe a wet cloth over her knuckles to clear away the blood, then cautiously apply a salve to her wounds. Through it all, Vi hardly even winces, a fact that doesn’t exactly surprise you. Even now, with her brazen confidence stripped away to the bone, she’s tougher than most. It’s an attribute that runs through her to the core. 

“Don’t you want to ask what happened?” Vi asks, suddenly. Her voice is raw, and to avoid looking her in the eye, you focus on wrapping her knuckles with layers of soft gauze. “Wanna know how I fucked up this time?”

You frown. “I’m not one to pry.”

There’s a long, pregnant pause before Vi speaks again. “That’s what’s different about you,” she says. “Everyone else just… Wants something from me.”

Brows knitting together, you fix Vi with a look that you hope reads less as pitying and more as understanding. You’re certainly familiar with catering to other’s desires over your own; it’s been this way for longer than you can remember. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, genuinely. Finished dressing her wounds, you let go of her hands, still kneeling at the side of the bed. You stand up with the intention of refilling Vi’s water, but as you reach for the cup, she catches your wrist in one bandaged hand. 

“All those times I saw you,” she starts, “when I had you read my cards… You never asked about my life.”

You nod, wrist burning from her touch. 

“Why? You never wondered?”

“It’s not my job to wonder.” You swallow. “Just to give people what they want.”

Vi’s gaze is intense, holding you in a trance. You’re frozen there, standing at the side of the bed, entirely in her grasp. “But do you ever get what you want?”

Do you?

You’d been working for Babette for years, longer than most - and before that, even as a child, you’d always understood that bending to the will of others is the easiest way to move through life. You can slip through the cracks that way, get enough coin or food or clothing to live another day. You wanted that, you suppose. To live. 

But you’re not sure that’s what Vi’s talking about.

“I have enough,” you say. “There’s not much I want.”

Vi nods. “But there’s something.” 

You smooth your free hand over hers, and she lets go of your wrist. “I’ll get you some water.”

As you refill her cup, you feel her eyes on you, and your mind races. Why does she care about what you want? You’re a stranger to her, a fortune teller living on scraps in an undercity brothel. First, she’d paid you for sex she’d never had, and now she’s in your bed, asking you questions you barely had the wherewithal to ask yourself. Gods, this woman is something else. You wish you could read her mind - crack open that beautiful skull of hers, sift through her thoughts, learn what had led her to you not once, not twice, but three times. You wish you could know everything about her, read her like your favorite book with its pages dog-eared, its cover well-worn.

Maybe that’s what you want, after all.

Returning to the bedside, you hand Vi her cup and stand by as she takes a long drink, then sets it on the nightstand. Her hair has grown a few inches since the first time you’d met her, you muse, and you like it this way - long locks of pink-crimson fall in jagged layers just past her shoulders, her bangs framing her face nicely. You wonder what it would feel like to reach out and run your fingers through that hair, to brush it free of knots, to hold the back of her head in your palm. 

“It’s late,” Vi says, interrupting your train of thought. “I should go - you should get some rest.”

She peels back the blanket you’d settled over her, sitting up. You hesitate, then reach forward to touch her forearm. “You can stay, I don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you up,” Vi says, “or… Keep away any business.”

Something in your chest tightens. “You won’t.”

“I shouldn’t—”

“I want you to stay,” you interrupt. “You need rest, too.”

Vi’s mouth hangs open for a moment, stormy blue eyes assessing you. Then, she settles back into bed, pulling the blanket up over her chest again. There’s a long pause, only the muffled sounds of laughter and salacious moans from other rooms filling the silence. You’re debating setting yourself up on the loveseat when Vi murmurs a quiet hey to capture your attention, then pats the space beside her in bed.

There are candles still burning on desks and tables and dressers throughout the room, lamps shining in shades of yellow and orange. You’ll lie down for only a moment, you tell yourself, long enough for Vi to doze off. Then you’d turn off the lights, blow out the candles, maybe sneak off to find a client looking for a fortune teller. You sense that Vi needs someone beside her for now, though, so you climb into bed, wrapping your frame in a velvety purple blanket. 

Once you’ve settled in next to her, Vi turns on her side to face you. Her lips, rosebud pink, are chapped, and you watch her moisten them with a swipe of her tongue.

“Thank you,” she says, voice hushed. “For letting me stay here.”

I didn’t know where else to go.

You turn over to face her, too, the corners of your lips pulling upwards. “Of course. I’m glad you’re okay, Vi.”

There’s a softness in Vi’s expression, now - one that you hadn’t seen before. The tough facade has melted away, as has the hurt, the pain. All that’s left is her rounded, wide eyes, her relaxed jaw, the curve of her lips. You catch yourself staring too long, and when you look up again, Vi’s already watching you.

She raises a bandaged hand to your face, where it hovers an inch away. Her expression asks for permission, and when you lean into her touch, Vi’s hand cups your cheek with a gentleness you’d never think her capable of. Not with those scars, not with the cuts and bruises that have become a permanent fixture on her skin. Her thumb skates over your cheekbone, and the touch feels electric.

“You’re beautiful, you know.”

Your breath hitches; you hope she doesn’t notice.

“I’m sure you hear that a lot,” Vi adds. And it’s true, you do. 

You hesitate. Then: “Not from anyone who matters.” 

Vi smiles - it’s a soft kind of smile, one that you wish you could take a photo of, frame it and hang it on the wall to return to when you need a reminder of the warmth in this moment. Her hand leaves your cheek and travels down to your arm, then finding your hand beneath the blankets. Your eyes feel heavy, suddenly - so must hers, because she doesn’t speak again. You fall asleep next to her, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, her hand warm and heavy in yours.

When you wake up again, the room is a dark, inky blue. 

You sit upright, back straight, memories of the night before slowly filtering into your mind. Half-expecting an empty space where Vi had once been, you glance to the side, finding her sleeping figure curled under the blankets. Chest tightening, you look down at her in the black dark, eyes straining. 

Her eyes open, lashes fluttering, and you gasp.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Did I wake you up?”

“I’m a light sleeper,” she murmurs back to you. One of her arms snakes around your waist, encouraging you to lie back, and you oblige. You’re closer than you were when you fell asleep, Vi’s steady breaths tickling at your shoulder. 

You’re suddenly very aware of her skin on yours; your shirt has ridden up your stomach in your sleep, and Vi’s arm, wrapped around you, burns against you. Your stomach is warm with something delicious, something dangerous.

It doesn’t help when Vi pulls you closer, palm opening against the flesh of your hip. You’re frozen for a moment, wondering if she’s still sleeping, somehow. 

“Vi?”

“Hm?” You feel her draw back, as if waiting for you to turn over, so you do. Eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you peer up at her. 

“I think I know what I want.” 

Vi’s quiet, her gaze steady on you. You’re about to take it back, whisper never mind and turn to sleep again, when she brings her hand back up to your cheek, cupping it in her hand the same way she had the night before. 

“Tell me,” she whispers in the dark.

“I…” You hesitate. “I want you to touch me.”

There’s a long pause, Vi’s eyes flickering over your face, analyzing your expression. Your body is tense with anticipation, and when she finally, finally leans in to press her lips to yours, the tension seeps out of every muscle.

Like everything about her, Vi’s kiss is different - her touch is different. She holds your face as her lips move against yours, soft and wet and sweet, thumb stroking the soft skin of your cheek as her tongue traces the part of your lips. You open your mouth for her, let her lick into you to deepen the kiss. 

It’s been a long, long time since you’ve been kissed like this. You’ve grown accustomed to hasty, messy kisses, foul breath and rough touches, far too many clients eager to skip past the kissing and get to the fucking. But Vi tastes like heaven as she takes her time with you, tongue soft as it pushes against yours. Every kiss leaves you aching for more, the warmth in your lower belly growing hotter with each smack of your lips against Vi’s. You pull back, catching your breath, and Vi peers at you with bleary eyes. 

“You okay?” She asks, thumb still stroking at your cheek. You nod and pull her in for another kiss, drawing a soft moan from the bottom of her throat - one that goes straight to your cunt. 

You’re not sure how long you continue like that, trapped in a heated kiss, bodies moving closer with every languid sigh and pleading moan. But eventually, the layers of clothing between you is a burden you can no longer bear. You pull back to work your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor before Vi tugs you close for another searing kiss. Your hands slip beneath the thin fabric of her tank, and she shivers, a full-body chill that makes you flush impossibly hotter. Once her shirt is discarded, too, Vi gently pushes you to lie flat on your back, climbing over you in nothing but a thin pair of shorts. You realize through the haze of lust clouding your mind that she must’ve woken up before you - she’d turned the lights off, taken off the stiff pair of pants she’d arrived in the night before. 

Hovering over you in the dark, Vi’s an absolute dream. Tattoos decorate her pale complexion, inked into her arms, her shoulders, her neck - you’d already noticed that she’s heavily inked, but it’s more striking when she’s half-naked like this. You don’t have much time to look, though, because Vi leans over to tuck her face into your neck, warm lips latching to the sensitive skin and littering kisses in an imprecise path. You keen high in your throat, leaning the opposite way to grant her more access, your hands finding purchase on her narrow hips. When you dig your nails into her skin, hissing as she parts her lips over your neck and sucks, her hips buck forward, grinding her thinly-clothed heat over your pelvis. You nearly see stars.

There’s always been a cold draft in your room, in the brothel, and in Zaun as a whole. But here, now, you’re on fire. You lift your hips and push Vi down against your pelvis again, encouraging her to find that friction again, and she emits a muffled moan against your neck when she does. It’s heavenly, that sound - you want to hear it again and again and again, until it’s forever etched into your memory. 

“Gods, Vi,” you gasp, her teeth scraping against your neck. She works her way further south, leaving kisses and bites in her wake, until she reaches the peaks of your breasts.

“You’re so pretty, fuck,” she murmurs, dazed. Both hands cup your tits and squeeze, her thumbs playing with the buds of your nipples until they’ve hardened from her touch. She then leans over to take one nipple into her mouth, moaning around the flesh as if she’d been dying for this. Her tongue draws wet circles over the sensitive bud, her cheeks hollowing out when she sucks at it until you’re gasping and writhing. You need her further down, where your cunt throbs and gushes in anticipation, but she takes her time with your other tit before she even considers undressing you further. 

Still straddling your waist, Vi sits up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She flashes you a wicked smile, eyes twinkling, and lifts her hips to reach for the waistband of your shorts.

“This okay, pretty girl?” 

You nod, biting your lip. Pretty girl.

Vi rolls your shorts down your thighs, pulls them off with ease and sets them to the side. Your panties are next - a simple, cotton pair that wasn’t anything flashy - and she tosses those to the edge of the bed, too distracted by the sight of your naked body to care much about where they landed. 

Typically, you weren’t shy about your body. In your line of work, you couldn’t be shy - you had to know your features and work them to your benefit. But with Vi eyeing you like you’re a meal and she’s a woman starved, your stomach flutters with excitement and, somewhere, a glimmer of insecurity. The need to impress her. 

And gods, does she seem impressed. She curses under her breath, her rough hands smoothing over the curves of your body, squeezing your hips and your thighs and your ass, licking her lips like she’s parched. You realize, as she settles her hands on your knees and works them apart for you, that she’d taken off her bandages, too. The thought evaporates as quickly as it had come, though, because now Vi’s settling between your spread legs, peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” she tells you between kisses. “You gonna let me eat you out, sweetheart?”

The question sends another cascade of butterflies through your stomach. You take in a deep breath, enjoying the sight of Vi between your legs, looking up at you with pleading eyes. You might die if she doesn’t make you come soon.

A whispered “please” from your lips is all Vi needs - her mouth is on you in a moment, tongue splitting through your folds, warm and firm and wet. She licks at you languidly, takes her time spreading your arousal from your hole up to your clit. You’re drenched, you just know it, and Vi moans as if to confirm your suspicions, lapping up your wetness with every flick of her tongue. Just like she’d taken her time with her mouth on your tits, she takes her time with your cunt, sucking on the swollen bead of your clit until you’re whining her name between sharp breaths. It’s all you can manage to say, your hand tangled in her scarlet locks of hair, tugging at her scalp each time she circles your clit with her tongue. After she’s worked you up enough, you’re suddenly so empty - you need more, and you tell her as much, chest heaving.

“Vi, I need—fuck, I need your fingers,” you cry out.

She answers with a gratified hum, and the vibrations have your eyes rolling back into your skull.

Just as you’d asked, though, Vi swipes a finger through your wetness; there’s hardly any resistance when she sinks the digit into your entrance, groaning again at the feeling of your walls around her. 

“So wet for me,” she comments, grinning. “This what you needed?”

You nod, face twisting with pleasure. Vi just chuckles under her breath, working her fingers up to a steady pace. Once she has you moaning again, all high-pitched and needy, she latches her mouth back onto your clit, and you’re gone. You come hard, clamping down on Vi’s fingers and tossing your head back, eyes squeezed shut through every wave of pleasure - it’s only once you’ve come to that you finally open your eyes again, gazing down at Vi starry-eyed.

“Can I be honest, sweetheart?” She sits up on her heels, licking her lips. “That was hot.”

“You think so?” You ask, reaching out for her. She moves closer and kisses you, lets you taste yourself on her lips. 

You pull back only to murmur, under your breath, “I’m not done with you, Vi.”

You’ve had sex with plenty of women in your lifetime, but few have made a real effort to make you come - and none have done it so fast. You’re determined to return the favor. So, with a pointed glance, you instruct Vi to lie back on the pillows, plucking one from behind her to set under her hips.

Vi had called you beautiful, but she’s utterly divine. All sharp edges and lean muscle, she’s a vision, and you’re almost convinced you’re dreaming as your hands smooth over the tattoos inked into her arms. You imagine yourself tracing each of those tattoos with your mouth, sucking bruises into the dark ink - but you’d do that later. Right now, all you want is to bury your face in the patch of red hair between her legs, lose yourself in the taste of her arousal.

Vi’s vocal, you conclude, because as you prod your tongue inside of her, nose bumping against her clit, she won’t shut up. 

“That’s it, fuck, you’re so good,” Vi moans, sitting up enough to allow her to watch as you lap at her pink cunt. An endless chorus of praises and curses leave her lips, punctuated with wanton moans. She’s needy, too - before long, she’s gripping a fistful of your hair and directing you with it, tugging you closer, to the side, to the other side, as she grinds her cunt down against your mouth. You revel in the way she’s using you, pleased when her stomach tenses and your name spills from her lips, warning you of her impending orgasm. She rides it out on your face, and when you finally pull back, you’re wet with her from nose to chin. 

“You’re way too good at that,” Vi tells you when you crawl up beside her, rubbing the wetness off your nose. 

“You’re just as good,” you respond. You move to lie down beside Vi, but when you see her frown, you arch a brow at her.

“Hm?”

“Sweetheart,” she coos, “I’m not done with you.”

She pulls you into her lap, lets you straddle the toned muscle of her pelvis. And after you’ve ground your pussy against her until you’re shaking with another release, she’s still not done. It’s a long night.

At the table in the corner of your bedroom, your deck of tarot cards lies spread face-down. There’s one card upright, though: two of cups.

[superduperkas]

Arcane is a masterclass in body language and how to properly use it in storytelling to get your message to your audience without thunking them over the head/spoon feeding it them.

Caitlyn's relationship to Vi vs her relationship to others is a great example.

Caitlyn is almost always trying to create less distance between Vi and her or "fill the gap" between them:

Cait steps over the red line in Stillwater to show Vi the evidence

After Vi ditches Cait in the brothel to jump Sevika, Cait seeks her out and saves her from Sevika

When she gives Vi the medicine for stab wound, they're breathing each other's air

She reaches across the space between them on her bed to caress Vi's face

She chases after Vi following the Council meeting not going their way

Fairly certain, she was going to go look for Vi after her shower if Jinx hadn't kidnapped her

She seeks out Vi after her dad, more or less, says he doesn't want Vi in their house. Not to kick her out but to find some comfort in being close to her (i think this is why she pushed so hard for her to be an enforcer, to keep her close)

Cait also does a fair share of looking at Vi's lips, slightly leaning in, and second guessing herself all within a span of a blink

Vi asks Cait not to change (she already has), so she closes the gap between them, and they share their first kiss as a form of reassurance

She takes down Vi mongoose style and again starts closing the gap between them by betraying Ambessa and helping Vander

Cait slightly/momentarily leans towards Vi's lips when she's pulling the bag over her head

Vi spits in her face and wipes it TOWARDS HER MOUTH and not away

After Jayce shoots Viktor and Ambessa attacks, Caitlyn has ample opportunity to go after Jinx, but she focuses on Vi and covering her back until she gets sliced across the abdomen and then she runs to her to help her to her feet

Now let's look at how Caitlyn creates gaps and space with Maddie even tho they're sleeping together:

Beginning of episode 4, while they're sitting in bed, Maddie tries to close the gap and create some intimacy. Caitlyn, in turn, leans away from her, creating space between them

Maddie is also the one trying to initiate/create emotional intimacy, and Caitlyn swerves her each time

Maddie kisses/nuzzles Caitlyn's neck, and in response, Caitlyn has the quickest expression of "eugh" before fixing her face and moving away from Maddie

Instead of leaning into the intimacy Maddie is trying to give her, Caitlyn gets up to work on something and says she'll come to bed soon

Caitlyn lets Ambessa dismiss Maddie from the room after (more than likely) overhearing the discussion about restarting the council (I really think if this were Vi, Caitlyn would've pulled rank and told her to stay)

Maddie is also very absent from the rest of s2p2, and given how we've seen Caitlyn actively seek out Vi in her absence, she honestly doesn't seem to care where Maddie is or how she's doing

And none of this is explicitly told to the audience thru dialog. All thru body language. And i just think that's really neat

[tqlepatia]

⋆ - 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ୭˚. ᵎᵎ

#.ex!sevika, little angst and nsfw

- part one. part two. part three.

Months have gone by since the breakup, yet ex!sevika can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you. It’s as if you haunt her, lingering in the back of her mind no matter what she does. She tries to drown you out—doubling the shimmer, drinking while hoping to forget yours or her own name, to vanish the memories into a haze of intoxication.

Desperate for a distraction, she seeks out girls who resemble at least a little of you, chasing a fleeting illusion of what you both once had. But even in those intimate moments, you can imagine her frustration when your name slips from her lips, a whispered ghost that reminds her of the connection that both of you once shared.

No matter how much she tries to escape, the truth is undeniable: you're the one she can't forget, the memory that continues to echo through her life, refusing to let her move on.

She feels a deep ache in her chest, a yearning that goes beyond the physicality of their time together. It's not just the thrill of their encounters that she longs for; it's the quiet moments that followed—the soft sounds of their breathing mingling, the way they would share gentle laughter or simply lie in comfortable silence, lost in each other’s presence. Those fleeting seconds felt like eternity, a sanctuary from the chaos outside. She misses the intimacy of those moments, the warmth of their connection, and the sense of peace that wrapped around them, more than anything else.

As she stood before the heavy, ornate door of the brothel, a mixture of trepidation and resolve swirled within her. The dim light from an old lantern flickered, casting shadows that danced on the weathered wooden planks beneath her feet. She could hear the distant laughter and muffled conversations spilling out into the corridor, a stark contrast to the solitude she felt. Taking a deep breath to steady her.

“Is she available?” That’s all she utters to Babette, her voice dripping with impatience, while casting a piercing, judgmental gaze in direction to the woman that she's talking to. Her expression conveys unspoken accusations, a clear indication that she’s aware of your obligations. You have a contract with her—a commitment that defines your professional life. She being the only client you are bound to serve, the pressure intensifies, and the tension in the room thickens, underscoring the delicate balance of your responsibilities.

Babbete's lips curled into a fleeting smirk, a chill permeating the air around her, as if the temperature dropped with the shift in her demeanor. "She’s busy now, Sevika," she remarked, her voice dripping with a subtle aloofness that hinted at a concealed amusement at the unfolding situation. "With the Sheriff of Piltover, Grayson," she continued, her eyes glimmering with mischief. "I gave her a reprieve from that ridiculous contract. And honestly, Sevika, you’ve been with a different girl every night. Why can’t she have her fun? It’s absurd!" Babette says still with that smirk to sevika, who is more than speechless

And again, sevika chose another girl that at least has a little thing common with you; nose, eyes, mouth, body. Anything. she does not care anymore if moan your name while her strap is deep inside another girl's interior, she don't care I'd she's being rough with that girl, it's not you after all, she don't care about anything, she doesn't know anything

The only thing she is sure of is that she's going to go crazy without you; she needs you like she needs air.

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do 2. ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!daemon’s daughter reader

⋆˚࿔ read part 1 here ˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

summary: blood and cheese, where daemon [the best dad (satire)] also orders for his daughter smuggled back to him, violent aftermath

an: there is no brothel Aemond subplot involved

word count: 5.2k

warnings: blood and cheese, canon violence, violence, daddy issues being mocked, arguments, once again blood and cheese

The war was afoot, degeneracies increasing, treacherous plans and endless councils. Amidst all of that y/n still found time to pay Haelena a visit as frequently as she could. Both of them had found impeccable friends in each other and the twins were always a delight. Striding through the halls of red keep, prodding her head inside with a soft knock on the queen's doors which were wide open as it is, "look!" y/n entered with a wide smile on her face. Twirling around she showed Haelena the dress she wore, it was a dress Haelena had embroidered for her with special spiders and other custom animals. Haelena had remarked on y/n's elegantly plain dresses, the edges could all use embroidery and y/n was more than glad to let Haelena design on her dress. "You made it so much better, the small bugs in blue thread it’s so beautifully assembled-" before she could comment more on the beauty of her queen sister's embroidery she was there to showcase, y/n was under attack of her niece and nephew, "why good morrow to you two!" she giggled as the two tugged at her dress for consecutive raise-me-ups. 

"I am very glad!" Haelena said offering her a smile as she scanned those designs, Haelena was warmly elated that y/n chose to wore the dress she had embroidered and the fact that she let her do it in the first place.

"You must teach me your ways" y/n commented whilst actively engaging with jaehaerys and jaehaera, she couldn't carry both the babies at the same time but she was trying to entertain them regardless, the two were latched to their auntie's knees like monkeys.

"I could always make you more, save you the time!" Haelena offered instead, she tried to distract whichever one of the children with a toy but both were way too smitten with their ever so busy aunt, now that she had the council she spent supposedly lesser time with the twins.

"That too would be so convenient!" Y/n said, Jaehaera was raised on her back, making mischief with her aunt as she tried to close her eyes with her tiny hands from behind. Both the twins laughing as she did so, regardless y/n laughed along trying to maintain her balance the best.

"That is enough..." Haelena trailed off in amusement as she helped Jaehaera off of y/n's back. The babe did not let go before whining about it, jaehaerys still tugging at his aunt's dress to get her to bend down so he could talk.

"It's alright" let out a small chuckle y/n's attention was caught down to the little heir pulling at her dress, for her to bend to his level. "Yes little prince?" She asked, attentive to her nephew's whims and demands.

"You said you were going to read to me" Jaeherys reminded her in a rather witty sense, having a sense of one upping her since she forgot about it.

"Oh did I now?" She paused for a second trying to remember when exactly was the reading session arranged for.

"Yes! The-the one with the fox and the-crows...where you do the voice!" The little prince was soon to remind her of which exact story they had left off from. He liked it better when his auntie read it to him than the wet nurses or his mum because she often did those giddy voices and the stories she read in were more entertaining than the ones with septa.

"Gods I must have forgotten" she said in a somewhat melodramatic tone to make the child think she took their reading session as a serious matter, "I have got some work on my hands at the moment but I assure you I will come continue the story-"

"When!" Jaeherys whined with a sort of tired expression given the delay in his story.

"Tonight." She answered genuinely, "Right after dinner!"

"Do you promise?" He asked wanting to take her aunty's word for proper surety.

"I promise." She said holding his tiny hands in hers giving them a gentle squeeze to assure him of her promise. Kissing both her niece and nephew on the forehead as she stood up, in attempt to take her peace Haelena stopped her.

"Are you not afraid?" Asked her sister in law with a tense look on her face, like those times when she would be out of it. As if she spoke another language and saw other things. "When the stones call you back?"

"What...what stones?" She asked, at first y/n thought Haelena was referring to some palace. Could this be in correlation to something with the council, is what y/n presumed.

"The stones. They will call you back!" Haelena gripped her elbows tighter, to emphasise the gravity of the situation she felt. "They'll take you away!"

"Nobody is taking anyone away..." y/n trailed off, shaking her head slightly as she ran her hand down Haelena's in a soothing way. "We are all safe here and there is nothing to be scared of. I promise you. I am not going anywhere." She assured her. Y/n assumed that it would worry Haelena to lose the best friend she had in herself if she were to go back because of the war waging. In her father's name perhaps, her worry was not unsolicited but y/n was sure her father's was a house not hers that is even before her marriage with Aemond.

Haelena could never seem to get her point across for some reason, she couldn't digest her wearies in a coherent way herself so she nodded with a small smile. The restlessness still consistent within her as y/n took her leave. Ever since the intimate moment with Aemond, their relationship had grown rather awkward. Aemond was closed off as always, unable to convey his infatuation. Awkward in this area, the young lovers found it difficult to navigate through a conversation. Bristling fingers through glasses, stealing glances, speaking out their love in small gestures.

That did not account for the fact that the council matters too seeped into the newlywed's marital bliss phase. Aemond too had a seat now, on the king's word. He would attend those meetings and at times the two would have drastically counter opinions. His lady wife, she would sit in the same line of seats after the hand and his mother. Speaking their minds against him, just as they had intended for her. A council within the council. "All you do is account for grand sire and mother, no such thoughts of your own. A mere puppet." Aemond scoffed as they were currently in a conversation in their chambers reflecting to that day's council meeting.

The day was at its end and as was y/n, end of her wits. His bickering was just what she needed, "And you?" she said in a tone more accusatory than his, rightfully so "all you add to the discussions is the warpath Ser Criston weaves."

"I stand for it, you just chew out what the council within the council spews" he scoffed, coming out harsher than intended but now this had become usual."I know you informed the hand of my meetings with Cole."

"Didn't do it as a snitch, had you asked me I would have told you I informed the hand." Y/n said trying to counter his condescending remarks. She wasn't a 'puppet' how he implied "Just because I do not agree with you doesn't make me a puppet to those with better judgment than yours."

"Better judgment than mine?" He let out a low huff finding it absurd that she believed Otto and his mother had a better judgment over the war than his, "you think writing to other castles, pleading, awaiting their help whilst we have three large dragons is a better judgement?"

"And what? What do you plan to do with the dragons? Burn all those against us?" She asked him growing agitated having this conversation again, "You are in favour of a lot of unnecessary bloodshed-"

"It is necessary. To make an example, to lay out a path." Aemond interrupted her, taking in a small breath "Raise your banners or watch them burn. This is what the blacks are already set to implement whilst we sit hand on hand sending out messengers!"

"You want to create a sense of fright! That is all you will accomplish with burning houses." She said in an assertive tone as she crossed her arms. This is what Ser Criston had told him too, the words struck him a small remembrance.

"Are you eavesdropping my meetings with Cole?" He questioned, as the reference resembled similar words to Cole's. Cole didn't exactly have the same notion as his wife but the words were vaguely same.

"You sit right across this room" she gestured to the adjoining room after their bedchamber. The small opening after their room led to the table against the wall where Cole and Aemond had their meetings, "The meetings you have after you assume I'm asleep, as it is too loud enough for me to not eavesdrop or be able to sleep."

"Of course" he couldn't help but roll his eyes, "You must have told the hand about it word for word yes? Like a parrot"

"Don't think of yourself too highly, your conversations are rather predictable even to those who aren't present" she replied. He wasn't wrong that she informed the hand about it but she took accountability for that.

"At least my conversations hold a spine" in two strides he reached the table she was leaning on to pour himself a glass of wine, "Unlike yours, but well that is what was intended for you" he shrugged.

For a moment, y/n sighed shutting her eyes "What are you implying?" She asked trying to maintain a calm composure because she was aware he would have words that would make antagonise her.

"You know, why you are in the council in the first place" he said in casual harshness. "Otto needed someone to voice his opinions like the righteous little lady that you are."

"I am on the council because of the seat I have inherited through my father." Y/n referred to the original conversation for her being on the council, he wasn't even part of that decision yet acted like he knew better than anyone. Smugly sipping his wine as he set his cup aside, the inherent smirk on his face irritated her to no end.

"You are claiming the father's seat who didn't even want to claim you?" He scoffed, Aemond could attest for the fact that he did not hate her in full surety. Rather fond of her too, but he was fond of his lady wife. The soft lover he did not knew he needed, big eyes that held love for everything they were laid upon. Tenderness and warmth seeping out the cracks of her which would mend the hollow cracks in him but it was the council member in her, otto's silent weapon which he could not stand.

In the process of wanting to get back at righteous council member he couldn't stand he truly hurt the daughter that begged for her world to sun, tears brimmed her eyes and she could not help it. She struck him across the face, the nerve of him. Shattered the home she thought she might finally have. He simply flinched at her action, his eyes widened a bit not at her gesture but at her tears. Registering her tears before the slap she landed her, at loss of words. "Leave." She spoke with a shuddered breath, couldn't even meet his eyes. Feeling stripped of the hope and pride she spent days building. Y/n had never raised a hand to anyone, that didn’t exactly harm Aemond in any way still the gesture in itself made her feel ugly after a moment’s silence marinated the interaction.

Without saying a word Aemond did leave, he didn't want to retaliate with her in any way. Because in that very moment both of them took a misstep and he did not want that moment to last longer. In a few strides he was out of their chambers. Y/n gripped the table to steady herself as the tears streamed down her face, a restlessness made home within her chest as she took heavy breaths.

The weight of all her despair was so heavy, at times she would just shut them in case and shove them deep inside her heart and inside her mind so she wouldn't have to face them in retrospect. It all just felt so inescapable, how she begged to be her father's daughter and how she was rejected the whole time. Now, farther away from him, bit by bit being at peace with the people she now surrounded herself with. Even in such state of distress she didn't feel alone any longer, she even felt loved. As far stretched as it sounded she even felt at ease with Aemond and he shattered all of it with just one sentence.

She lost the track of time since the moments of Aemond walking out as she just stood there falling apart, but when she felt some footsteps behind her she wiped her tears trying to compose herself. If there was anything she learned from her father it was that, nobody ever cared how much you fall apart so don't give them a reason to hold against you. Daemon always hated weeping children. Quickly she wiped her tears, she wouldn't want Aemond to think of her weak in these times. With a deep sigh she turned to face the footsteps she assumed was Aemond.

Apparently it wasn't. "Yes?" She asked with furrowed brows to the stranger who just walked into the room, not even a knock or an announcement like the guards or servants. The man wasn't even dressed like a guard or a servant. She stood alarmed taking a step further into the table as the man forwarded towards here without a word. "Guard-" she tried to yell as loud as she could but the man grabbed her head in a swift motion and shoved her into the table's edge. As if to knock her unconscious.

"Not another word or I kill you." Blood said with his hands around her neck, about to choke her as she struggled against him. Trying to grasp against his hands on her, trying to suffocate her she kicked her legs. Tried to scream regardless of his warning. With an extreme distaste for her, obviously, in blood's eyes the princess wasn't even worth so much and too much trouble to smuggle out. "Your daddy wants you back."

-

By the time the guards did find the princess, in the hallways, she was already half unconscious. Immediately rescued into the safest place in the keep, the council. Retrieved but not at all unharmed. The council was already set into course for the subject of the young prince when Larys walked in with y/n. He had previously informed her of what had happened with her nephew, his passing it hadn't really struck her yet given she could barely process all that had happened.

Queen alicent gasped as she stood up quickly running to y/n's side, all the bruises on her face, open cuts and bleeding out the torn sleeves in her dress. "Gods..." she exclaimed in horror as she helped her onto her seat. "What happened to her?" She asked Lord Larys.

"The guards found the intruder, trying to smuggle the princess out of the keep. A gold cloak known for his brutal nature, found with her, having inflicted his brutality upon her and...the prince's head, in a sack." He briefed the council as they all listened to him, everyone else but the king at loss of words. As Lord Larys left alicent was still tending to y/n, cooing at her, she seemed to be in a half conscious state.

"I am alright" she muttered to her mother in law as Alicent nodded but held her hand in hers to provide her whatever consolation she could. Just the sight of having suffered such assault sent the queen into a huge distress. Weakly holding her hand back as if to steady herself into this nightmare. When Lord Larys told her of Jahaerys's tragedy she did not believe it at all. She was confidently positive there must be some mistake in his information because that would not be possible at all.

If it wasn't for Aegon screeching in the background, y/n couldn't make out if she was actually awake in this very moment. The ringing in her ears still hadn't gone out and she wished that she would perish with that same ringing if it were to happen because living through this seemed so difficult. No way to navigate, circumstance so heavy she felt paralysed to meet anyone's face. Aegon was screeching as he wept for his son, blind with rage to kill the man found guilty for the crime. The member advised otherwise saying the king has a lot of enemies and they don't know for sure whose hand it could be.

"I suppose you are right..." Aegon trailed off slowly pacing down the table back to his seat, with an accusatory demeanour towards everyone else "it could be anyone of you, in this room."

A small silence fell, strengthening the tension and grief in the room as y/n just stared at the empty seat beside her. That very morning, just the day prior, where her nephew sat. Then Aemond after him, empty now. "It was Daemon." She declared of what she knew for sure, first time in her life she referred to Daemon with his first name instead of her father. After everything that he did, every misery she endured at the hands of her father, what happened now made her want to be distanced and foreign from him as much as she could. "His doing." She breathed and looked at the council, the drained colour on everyone's face she just registered-it was blinding her. "The man—the gold cloak" she continue, "trying to get a hold of me, h-he—he said 'your daddy wants you back.'" Repeating the words sent a chill down her spine as if she was in that very moment again, she still felt those hands on her, suffocating and heavy. A disgusting play in the mix. “That man came here, on Daemon’s order.”

The rest were comprehending that still, how a man could be so crude not only killing a child but having his own assaulted and kidnapped back home like this? " In one sense, as we determine what happened and...if we in the keep are still in peril. In another sense of course...it doesn't matter." Otto said and looked at Y/n. The princess surely did not seem to understand the hand's implication.

However Lord Tyland did so, "You mean to blame Rhaenyra." He said in a beat. "Tell the realm she had done this." Tyland spoke out Otto's implication.

"I'll have the realm told nothing! We were assaulted within our own walls, within our own beds!" Aegon spoke up almost immediately "Y/n, my brother's wife! The fucking princess almost beaten unconscious—being smuggled out?" He emphasised on the word brother, enraged even for his sister in law and the lack of his brother's presence when it must have mattered the most. "I will not be seen as weak!"

"You are already seen as weak aegon." Otto replied once again sending the king into a manic breakdown as he threw around more cups and vases. Otto theorised about how important it was to name Rhaenyra as a cruel person. Killer of infants, despite of whose direct orders those were. The narrative would be what they made.

"You would change, the blood that is on daemon's hand just to spite Rhaenyra." Y/n questioned, red eyes and characteristically on the verge of tears since she walked in here. Alicent found it so hard to look at her face, the cuts and bruises, poor thing. The heavy torment inside her head must be unimaginable, Alicent thought whilst holding y/n's hand a bit tighter. It felt like one of those moments when she was just a child, so many years ago. She would recall, the girl child was such a loner, always speaking in short words that is if spoken to. The shy little girl, who would just sit in a corner and colour or read. So much like her Aemond yet so different. When they would be in public settings, too many people, she would meekly hold Alicent's hand. Amongst all those unfamiliar faces. Little y/n just deemed Alicent familiar, comfortable. What was so wholesome years ago held such horror now. Alicent holding the lady's hand to provide her comfort her words won't be able to, the protection she could not. "Why won't you paint that man for the monster that he is?!" Y/n spoke as her voice broke, it felt unfair. Daemon not being held accountable yet again.

"Because, Daemon isn't the pretender to the throne. He would be the king consort. Banners are being declared for Rhaenyra, not in his name." Otto explained, to his preference narrative was just a useful toy. One name here or there did not make a difference.

"That is unfair." She said shaking her head, tears brimmed her eyes, taking in short breaths. In all these council meetings she did not speak up against Otto considering him respectable and more learned yet today, "how can you keep on accounting for him...again and again?!" Y/n asked but she was begging in agony. "Y-You were here. Always present. And you never did anything—all his heinous crimes! You always had the opportunity to hold him responsible and you did nothing!" She exclaimed, not being able to help herself as she thought back to a conversation at this very table. A conversation she must not have been there for, but the hand would have.

"It is perhaps your shock and grief speaking for you." Otto replied, not moved by the young lady's accusations at all. "I for one, do not understand your place of reference"

"When he murdered my mother!" Y/n said, growing more and more restless with her speech. Otto must be right, it was all the piled up grief inside of her speaking for her in this very moment but she could not let the monster that was her father be off the hook again, "You could've held a proper council, had him pay for what he did and we wouldn't be seeing this day today! We have that chance now and yet again you would rather Rhaenyra take the blame for his barbarism!"

Otto felt silent for a moment, the girl's rage was justified to the extent of him having no answer for her but he knew to trust his wit more, "I cannot undo...my regrets. I assure you I hold a lot of remorse in having a part in letting daemon go from daemon to the rogue prince and now this...monster. But if we don't do this, he would become king consort. The word consort is a feeble adjective." What he said was supposed to make sense to y/n but she could not see past the rage and need for vengeance she held against her father. Looking away, she wiped her tears. "A funeral progress. Let them see the child. Let them look upon the works of this pretender to the throne." Otto proposed once y/n was assuming-ly settled.

"Father" Alicent said with weary and concerned eyes, such tragedy being shouted out as a public funeral procession sounded so vain.

"My king..." Otto waited for Aegon's presumedly understood voice.

"No..." Aegon answered firmly "I will not have my little son's body dragged through the street like a dead dog." As he said that y/n felt nearly faint. To this very moment she did not accept that the child had passed.

"Not dragged, honoured." Otto corrected. "Escorted to the dragon pits to be burned as a Targaryen prince!" Otto went on and on about how he loved his grandson, his heart was in the right place with the grief yet the path he set was in accordance with the warpath. Just plots and schemes. Falling silent, paralysed y/n looked down to her lap. She refused to even register this conversation because it meant registering the fact that a darling child, Jahaerys...was gone.

Aegon couldn't stomach this proposal which came as an already arranged firm announcement either, looking around the room nobody said a word against the hand's plan. "You would say nothing?!" He demanded of y/n, why won't somebody help this mad notion. "Your dear nephew, have you nothing to add?" He was almost begging, hoping she would get the hand to change his mind for this funeral procession. She didn't, y/n just looked up at Aegon and then Alicent, tears in her eyes which just didn't seem to stop flowing. "Mother." Aegon called out when y/n couldn't speak up.

Leaving y/n's side Alicent walk's up to aegon, "the hand sets a difficult path, my darling. But it might be the right one." She told her inconsolable soul.

"Let the silent sisters ready the prince for his final journey." Otto said without waiting a moment for the king or anyone to come forth with opposition "And riding behind him, his mother the queen, the princess and the queen dowager."

"No, I do not wish to be spectacle." Alicent opposed instantly, the weariness and fright in y/n's eyes speaking the same "Especially y/n, not in this state. She can barely talk-stand, she has been terrorised. You can't simply—"

"The realm must see the sorrow of the crown. A sorrow best expressed through its gentle souls." Otto said followed by alicent sighing, then he looked at the side to y/n, "We need to display our heavily victimised as well" he said, the bleeding wounds on her face seemed like little trophies of sympathy to Otto. "I think you'll all agree the king himself must be spared."

-

A deafening silence lingered within Aemond, he had been out, sharpening out his swords, practising. Fucking practising on jute bags when he should've been there. Y/n was in Alicent's chambers because she could not walk into her own, couldn't even take in the sight of it. The thrashed furniture, from her struggling against the intruding gold cloak. The...the sack. In which he had stored the boy's head. Where the man had placed it in her chamber, at the entrance, it had created a circular stain of blood. Jahaerys's blood. She could not even think about the room within those four walls without picturing the insidious crime. She sat on the floor against the bed, windows open and soft white light of the day seeping in yet to y/n it still felt like a night of hailstorm. She didn't even look up to the footsteps of the stride coming inside the room, Aemond. He walked to her, kneeling down to the floor to her level.

Aemond was drenched with so much guilt in his heart, he felt pathetic to even breathe the same air as his lady wife. She had her face turned away from him, he could just see the small cuts on her face, the torn dress, still seeping out dried blood, her weary stature. It was all mortifying in the first place. He was so livid, with himself, with the intruder. Even with Larys, who informed him about the happenings at the last. By the time he rushed back inside the council was already done with. He had nothing he could say to y/n, no way of consoling her either.

It's not as if she would want to be consoled by him too, the emotional support he would want to offer her walked out with him when he walked out after their fight the previous night. With the disturbing things that had happened with her, she had almost forgotten the words he said. She couldn't even remember why she was crying before it all, that sick with grief. Aemond gently held her chin, hesitantly afraid she would turn him away. She had every right to do so. She didn't move him away, had no energy to do so. His heart sank as he saw the blood streaked stitches, poorly done and most of her wounds left untreated. "Why are these open?" He asked her softly, referring to her wounds, "Where are the maesters?"

"The hand, has asked for these to be left raw as they were planted." Y/n briefed him, her voice was so wavering, all that crying. "He means for them to be displayed for the funeral procession...so the realm can see" y/n scoffed softly as she repeated otto's exact words.

"You don't have to go." Aemond told her in a firm way, sure that he could get the hand to change his mind whether he liked it or not because y/n's comfort was his priority.

"No..." she trailed off, in agreement refraining to look at him her voice held no emotion. "But I do. I have to." She continued "Wouldn't want Haelena to be alone"

"Mother would be with her." Aemond added taking her hands in his softly, finally getting her to react to his presence as she looked down upon his gesture. Apparently to take her hands out of his grasp.

"But then I would be alone here..." She trailed off, a hint of frustration and fright in her tone. "I don't want to be alone."

"I would be with you, y/n." Aemond cooed softly fixing the loose strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear as he leant forward. “You won’t be alone.”

"I find myself unable to put faith in you, Aemond." She breathed looking down, she felt like a cornered animal, just so scared and full of distrust. "...in your assurance. I'd rather not."

Aemond had nothing he could say to that. She did not trust the integrity of his principles and rightfully so. He knew he had broken that trust of security within her. "My heart, I apologise for the distress I have caused you. I did not mean any of it" he told her but the heaviness in his heart told him his words would change nothing. She couldn't talk either, bursting into tears and her stitches seemed to hurt because her face moved but she was so much numbed to the physical pain in comparison to how she felt inside. Aemond could just offer her his embrace in this time and that is what he did. Enlacing her into her arms, rubbing her back in soothing circles her let her cry into his chest. "They will pay for this." He muttered softly as he continued to hold her. Even with the pain he made her feel, the distrust and hurt she felt just in seeing Aemond could not let her turn away the familiarity of his comfort. His was the only comfort she had ever known.

-

Once again clarifying that the brothel subplot is absolutely NON EXISTENT in this fic Aemond Targaryen is a lot of things but not a cheater <333

Pls let know what you think about this + added to the tg list🫧

-

🏷️ @love-is-a-dagger @daddzawa @1109002 @void21 @annedub @teapartydreams @batmans-love @ih8books @oopsdownloadedrumblragain-blog @aemondwhoresworld @unsweetenedpeatea @immyowndefender @aleemendoza2425-blog @vane282-blog @atargaryenlover @targaryenswhxre @sabii5 @vibescanner @darylandbethfanforever9

[gremlingottoosilly]

I know this page now is filled with Mafia König, and Monster König, and Slasher König, but it was revealed to me in a dream- Executioner König. Apparently, (though I don't have a source) given that the profession often met with isolation, which obviously made it hard to find a bride. Some executioners if they weren't married already, could pardon a woman prisoner if she agreed to marry him. Now enter, all in white, Reader that has commited an unspecified crime. It's still enough to be on death row for it. But Konig, seeing her, just can't let such a pretty thing die. He's lonely, and not getting any younger....

Cut to Reader confused later in life how her life from stealing or conning went to cooking potatoes and warming his bed at night while he's busy ripping someone's intestines out.

(plus fucking Reader in a pillory as a treat)

You prayed every night. They gave you a week before the execution - threw you in a cold basement, dampened your feet in water, and waited until you begged for the sentence to come faster. They couldn't - the royal executioner was out on the road from another city, and they couldn't have a royal maid to be killed by some commoner. You thought you'd have time to let them know how you didn't do what you did - how you were innocent all along if only crime for protecting yourself. No one listened, of course. The royal executioner has cold hands, and you can almost feel them preparing for the torture. This is what he is going to do, you think - put you in a pillory, slowly rip you from inside out. A fitting punishment is to dump your common blood so everyone can see just how much of a filth you are. Konig knows he has a right to you - a royal maid, probably framed. Maybe you are guilty- but he looked at your wide eyes and tear-stained face, and he didn't really care. You have soft legs and nice hips, a body that even prisoner's rags couldn't hide. You'd give him nice, fat babies - about a litter of them, poor bastard living with their father's profession. Daughters never get married, and sons get themselves wives in a similar fashion. Konig draps a hand over your thighs, under the rags - you're filthy, but he never minded. Can clean you up after, make you a wife. Honest woman, getting clean with his cock lodged deep in your cunt. He always liked girls from the royal district - clean, fresh, looking small like dolls on their fast legs. Like deers in the forest, except that he can now get himself one. Like catching a forest nymph. You don't even whimper as he drags a hand over your pussy, fingering you slowly - learned his way with brothel girls, always too nervous to actually do something, but also too horny not to. No one would be with an executioner willingly, so he would fuck you until heaven and the crown would forgive you and then would put a nice ring on your finger. Drag you to his house and made you his made - and his princess, too. Would buy you a dozen little goose feather pillows and a soft blanket from a foreign merchant so your body would forget the cold and the depth of the dungeon. He knows you'd be a good housewife because you managed to work in a castle - he doesn't care if it was the lower quarters if you only worked with other servants. He calls you a princess in bed and gets expensive cuts of lamb to cook. You burn your first one, roasting it too much, not knowing how to deal with meat if it's not made from scraps - and he ate it anyway, nuzzling his face into your breasts later as if asking for seconds. Puts a baby in you two months after the wedding. Haggles with merchants for soothing herbs and tortures 5 people per day for a bigger cut of what was in their pockets. Gets you a really nice bracelet out of some poor merchanting bastard, and you wore it like a shackle, your hands still trembling lightly when embracing him. The smell of your hair makes him forget about blood, and he clings to your body like a dog whenever he is home. Konig couldn't be happier.

[thedensworld]

Adrenaline Rush | K. Mg

Genre: angst, established relationship, gangster au!, smut (18+)

Summary: Mingyu didn’t like to share, especially when it came to you—his lover. So when you left him, his thoughts were consumed with how he would punish you.

Warning: mention of violence, divorce, abuse, kidnap

Mingyu's ears perked the moment he caught Seungkwan mentioning your name. He immediately abandoned the stack of papers in front of him—those endless contracts or reports businessmen like him usually drowned in. None of it mattered now. Whenever it was about you, nothing else took precedence.

“We found her, hyung,” Seungkwan said, his voice laced with urgency.

Those words were all Mingyu needed. Without hesitation, he dismissed everyone around him with a wave of his hand, not caring for the startled looks on their faces. He stormed out, his long strides fueled by a single destination. A brothel. One of those dingy places frequented by lowly men seeking temporary escape. His jaw clenched as the thought sunk in—this is where you’d ended up? This is what you left him for?

The memory of you walking away from him all those years ago burned in his chest, but the thought of you stooping to such a life ignited something darker within him.

Mingyu chuckled, low and bitter, as he reached the establishment’s doorstep. You thought you could run from him? That you could escape the life you had with him? Foolish. He would never let you go again. Even if you screamed, even if you cursed him to hell and back, it wouldn’t matter.

You made mistakes, so many mistakes. And in his eyes, you deserved every ounce of punishment waiting for you now. From what he knew—and what you had proven in the past—being with him was punishment enough.

But this time, Mingyu vowed, it wouldn’t end the same way. You wouldn’t run again. Not now. Not ever.

At the heart of the dimly lit brothel, Mingyu met Jeonghan, the sharp-dressed owner of this lowly establishment. Jeonghan leaned against the bar, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he took in the sight of the towering businessman and his entourage. Mingyu wasted no time, motioning for Seungkwan, his ever-reliable right hand, to handle the introduction.

Seungkwan stepped forward, clearing his throat as he presented a photograph of you. "We’re looking for a girl named Y/n," he said, his voice calm yet firm.

Jeonghan glanced at the photo, his expression unreadable as he handed it back. He shook his head and smiled, his gaze drifting lazily to Mingyu. "We don’t do business with her. She’s exclusive," Jeonghan replied smoothly, his words laced with a challenge that made Mingyu’s jaw clench.

The tension in the air thickened. Seungkwan, ever the diplomat, opened his mouth to negotiate, but Mingyu cut him off with a voice that brooked no argument. "How much for her?"

Jeonghan’s smirk widened into a grin, sly and unbothered. "Now we’re talking about something I love—money," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. But then, with a dramatic sigh, he added, "Unfortunately for you, boss, she’s not for sale."

Mingyu mirrored Jeonghan’s grin, but his eyes held none of the humor. They wandered lazily around the room, taking in the lavishly decorated yet sordid interior. With a flick of his wrist, he signaled his men outside. Moments later, several burly figures with tattooed arms and intimidating glares entered, their presence immediately darkening the atmosphere. These weren’t just bodyguards—they were the kind of men who got their hands dirty for Mingyu without a second thought.

"I could burn this place to the ground in seconds," Mingyu said casually, his tone calm but laced with menace as his dark gaze settled on Jeonghan. He stepped closer, lowering his voice, the threat now unmistakable. "Now, tell me—she’s still not for sale?"

Jeonghan held his gaze for a long moment, the smirk never quite leaving his lips. He glanced between Mingyu and Seungkwan, weighing his options. Finally, he chuckled softly, raising a hand in mock surrender. "Follow me, gentlemen," he said, motioning them toward the back.

Jeonghan’s office was exactly what Mingyu had anticipated—classic and dimly lit, with dark wood furniture, leather chairs, and a faint aroma of cigar smoke lingering in the air. A single golden lamp illuminated the room, casting long shadows across the walls. Jeonghan motioned for Mingyu and Seungkwan to take a seat, but Mingyu remained standing, his imposing frame towering over the desk.

Jeonghan settled into his chair with a casual ease, folding his hands in front of him as he looked up at Mingyu with a bemused smile. "So," he began, his voice smooth, almost teasing, "what’s the story here? What’s she to you? A runaway lover? An unfaithful wife?"

Mingyu’s jaw tightened at the question, his eyes narrowing. "That’s none of your business," he replied coldly. "Just tell me where she is."

Jeonghan chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "See, that’s the thing, boss. It is my business. Y/n is under my care now, and I don’t hand over my people to just anyone, especially when I don’t know their intentions."

Seungkwan, sensing the rising tension, stepped in. "We’re not here to cause trouble, Mr. Yoon. We’re simply here to take her back. My bosshas every right—"

"Every right?" Jeonghan interrupted, his gaze shifting sharply to Seungkwan before landing back on Mingyu. "Let me guess. She ran from you, didn’t she? And now you think you can just waltz in here, throw your weight around, and take her back like she’s some kind of lost property?"

Mingyu’s fists clenched at his sides, but his voice remained steady, albeit colder. "She belongs with me."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. "Does she? Funny, because from what I’ve seen, she seems to be doing just fine without you."

"Fine?" Mingyu scoffed, his voice rising slightly. "You call living in this—" he gestured around the room, though it was clear he was referring to the entire establishment—"fine? You think I’ll let her stay in a place like this?"

Jeonghan’s expression darkened, the playful edge to his demeanor fading. "And you think dragging her back to you is the better option? Tell me, why did she leave you in the first place? What kind of man drives a woman to run to a place like this?"

The words hit harder than Mingyu expected, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer to the desk, his towering presence now almost threatening. "I don’t need to explain myself to you," he growled. "She’s mine, and I’m taking her back."

Jeonghan met his glare head-on, unflinching. "Not if I have a say in it," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Y/n is under my protection now. I don’t care who you are or what you think you’re owed—if she doesn’t want to go with you, I’m not handing her over."

The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken threats. Seungkwan shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two men. Mingyu’s patience was wearing thin, his temper barely contained.

"You don’t understand," Mingyu said, his voice low and deadly. "I’m not leaving without her. So, either you cooperate, or I’ll make you regret it."

Jeonghan smirked again, leaning forward slightly. "Is that a threat?"

"It’s a promise," Mingyu shot back, his tone icy.

For a moment, the two men stared each other down, the tension crackling like a live wire. Finally, Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, the smirk never quite leaving his face. "You’re persistent, I’ll give you that," he said. "But persistence doesn’t mean you’re right. If Y/n wants to leave, fine—I won’t stop her. But if she doesn’t…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Mingyu’s eyes burned with determination. He wasn’t going to let Jeonghan—or anyone else—stand in his way.

*

"Jeonghan is looking for you," Yumi called out as she stepped into the kitchen, where you were commanding the staff with practiced ease.

You turned your head, surprise flickering across your face. "Really? At this hour?" you asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t common for Jeonghan to summon you during the busiest time of the day.

Curiosity mingled with unease as you stepped out of the kitchen, hastily taking off your apron and brushing the flour dust from your blouse. Straightening your posture, you made your way to his office, your heart thudding louder with each step.

Pushing the door open, you froze at the sight inside. Seated comfortably on Jeonghan’s sleek leather couch were two faces you hadn’t seen in years but could never forget. Mingyu and Seungkwan. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air growing heavy as their presence stirred a whirlwind of emotions you’d long buried.

They had found you.

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you stepped further into the room, willing your trembling hands to remain steady. You stopped near the desk and bowed your head politely, keeping your gaze firmly on the floor.

"Do you know them, Y/n?" Jeonghan’s voice broke through the tense silence, his tone casual but edged with curiosity.

You nodded slowly, clasping your hands behind your back to hide their shaking. "Yes," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes flickering between you and the men. "This gentleman here," he began, gesturing toward Mingyu, "wants you to come with him. He asked me to sell you."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and your teeth bit into your bottom lip to keep the rising panic at bay. Your eyes remained glued to the scuffed toes of your old flats, blinking rapidly as the reality of the situation crashed over you. Summoning every ounce of courage, you finally lifted your head and met Jeonghan’s gaze.

"I’m not for sale," you said firmly, though your voice wavered ever so slightly.

Jeonghan smirked and turned to Mingyu. "You heard her, boss. She’s not for sale."

For a moment, the room was deathly silent. Then, without a word, Mingyu rose from his seat, his towering frame exuding an aura of quiet menace. He crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping right in front of you. Before you could react, his hand clamped around your arm, his grip firm but not painful.

"Then I’ll take her for the night," he said coldly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "I’ll send her back tomorrow."

"No!" you protested, struggling against his grip. But he ignored you entirely, dragging you out of the office as if you weighed nothing.

You fought harder, your heart pounding in terror, but Mingyu didn’t even falter. One of his men stepped forward at his signal, muffling your protests with a hand over your mouth as he effortlessly hoisted you into his arms. Tears pricked at your eyes as you were carried out, helpless and humiliated.

Jeonghan didn’t move to stop him, though his eyes followed the scene with an unreadable expression. Seungkwan was nowhere to be seen, likely handling the details behind the scenes, as he always did.

You were shoved into a sleek black car, the smell of leather and cologne overwhelming your senses. Moments later, Mingyu climbed in beside you, shutting the door with a quiet finality.

For a moment, the car was silent as he stared at you, his dark eyes cold and calculating. You felt small under his gaze, dirty and insignificant. The contrast between the two of you was stark—he, immaculate in his tailored suit, every inch the powerful man who never dirtied his hands. And you, disheveled and raw, someone who had clawed her way through life’s filth.

"Where are we going?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you avoided his gaze.

Mingyu didn’t answer. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. His silence was deafening, and with each passing second, the fear in your chest swelled like a tidal wave, threatening to drown you.

You clutched at the hem of your blouse, fighting to keep your composure as the car sped off into the night, carrying you toward an uncertain fate.

The drive felt endless, the silence in the car heavy with unspoken tension. Your heart pounded relentlessly as the city lights blurred past, each mile pulling you closer to a destination you had tried so hard to leave behind. When the car finally pulled up to the familiar building, your breath hitched. So, he still lived here. After all these years, nothing had changed.

You barely had time to process before one of Mingyu’s men yanked the car door open, grabbing you roughly. You struggled against his grip, but it was useless as he hoisted you onto his shoulder like a sack of rice. Humiliation burned in your chest as you were carried inside, powerless to stop him.

The next thing you knew, you were thrown onto a large, familiar bed, the softness beneath you starkly contrasting the harshness of your situation. Your eyes darted to Mingyu, who stood tall beside his man, his commanding posture radiating authority. His gaze was cold, unyielding, a side of him you had never known—or perhaps had refused to see until now.

He kept surprising you, even after all these years.

"Take a shower," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I’ll wait for you."

He turned and walked to an armchair in the corner of the room, sinking into it with a calmness that made your skin crawl. His sharp eyes remained on you, watching, waiting.

Your mind raced with questions. What was he planning to do? Why was he looking for you now, after two years of silence?

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost unbearable. The Mingyu you had once known was far removed from the man before you now—this version of him was colder, darker, and infinitely more dangerous.

*

Mingyu adjusted his pants, his movements slow and deliberate, as his eyes remained fixed on you. You lay on the bed, your body trembling as sobs wracked through you. The sound of your cries filled the room, and for a moment, it was as if time had rewound to a past neither of you could fully escape.

Once, that sound had been his undoing. He used to hate hearing you cry, hated the way it made him feel helpless and consumed by guilt. Every tear you shed back then felt like a blade slicing through him, a reminder of how much he had failed you.

But now? Now, it was different.

Two years had passed since you walked out of his life without a word, and he had made himself a promise. He no longer cared to soothe your pain or ease your fears. All he wanted was to hear you cry—louder, longer, and only because of him.

He didn’t flinch at the sight of your tear-streaked face or the broken sounds that escaped your lips. Instead, a dark satisfaction curled at the edges of his mind. This was what you deserved. You had run from him, abandoned him, left him to piece himself back together alone.

And now, he would make sure you never forgot the price of leaving.

Mingyu leaned against the wall, his gaze unrelenting, as though your pain was the only thing grounding him in this moment. His voice was low, almost a murmur, as he finally spoke.

"Don’t stop," he said, his tone devoid of the warmth it once held. "I like it when you cry."

Mingyu walked out of the room, closing the door behind him without a second glance. His long strides carried him through the quiet halls of his penthouse, the tension in his shoulders evident. He summoned Seungkwan with a sharp nod as soon as he saw him waiting in the adjacent living room.

"How did the negotiations go with Jeonghan?" Mingyu asked, his voice curt, every word clipped with impatience.

Seungkwan adjusted his tie, his face carefully neutral as he responded. "Jeonghan didn’t make it easy, as expected. He insisted she wasn’t for sale and tried to keep his cards close. But when we presented the legal documents…" Seungkwan trailed off, glancing at Mingyu for approval before continuing. "He had no choice but to back down. He can’t hold her. Not when the paperwork makes it clear—she’s yours. Filed and legal."

Mingyu let out a low hum, the corner of his lips twitching in what might have been satisfaction. "Good. Jeonghan may think he’s untouchable, but even he knows better than to challenge what’s already mine."

He dismissed Seungkwan with a wave of his hand, not waiting for a reply as he headed toward his bedroom. His steps slowed as he approached the door, the weight of the past pressing against him with every step.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, exactly as he’d left it two years ago. It felt frozen in time, untouched and preserved like a mausoleum of their shared history. On the nightstand sat the object that had haunted him all this time—your wedding band.

It lay there, small and unassuming, but its presence was enough to stir something in him. The sight of it was a cruel reminder of the night you had walked out, leaving it behind as if it had meant nothing. He reached for it, his fingers brushing the cool metal as a bitter smile played on his lips.

"You thought you could leave," he murmured to himself, the weight of the ring heavy in his palm. "But you were mine then, and you’re mine now. No one else has the right to you."

Mingyu rubbed the cool metal of the ring on his finger, the same one that had circled it for five years now. The weight of it felt heavier tonight, a reminder of the moment he had impulsively decided to settle down with you. It hadn’t been planned—it was a reckless decision, one made in the heat of the moment.

It was in one of his nightclubs where it all began. He had been sitting in a VIP booth, deep in conversation with Dino, one of his most trusted managers. Mingyu’s gaze wandered, and then he saw you—sitting alone at the bar, nursing a drink with an air of detachment.

“She’s a regular,” Dino had said, noticing where Mingyu’s eyes lingered. “Still young, but life’s been rough on her. Seems to have hit her harder than most.”

Mingyu saw himself in you then, a familiar weight of the world reflected in your posture, in the way your eyes avoided the lively crowd around you.

He remembered every detail from that night—the red tube dress that hugged your frame, the way your shoulder-length hair framed your face perfectly, enhancing your natural charm. You were magnetic, even in your silence, and something about you drew him in before he could stop himself.

Without hesitation, he stood and made his way to you. The noise of the nightclub faded into the background as he approached, leaning casually against the bar beside you.

“I’m Mingyu,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise of the nightclub.

You barely glanced at him, muttering an indifferent, “Okay,” before taking another sip.

Most people would have turned toward him, eager to make an impression. But not you. Your disinterest amused him, even challenged him. He found himself wanting to break through that wall, to see what was behind it.

“I like your dress,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile.

You froze for a second before finally meeting his gaze, the suspicion in your eyes softening just slightly. “Thanks,” you said, your tone still wary but warmer now. “I designed it myself.”

Mingyu’s brows lifted in surprise. “You’re a designer?”

“Not yet,” you muttered, a bitter edge to your voice. “I’m a fashion design student.”

The way your shoulders sagged just slightly didn’t escape him. “What’s holding you back?”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as if the weight of the world rested on your shoulders. “I just lost my part-time job,” you admitted. “I’m drowning in bills, I’m behind on rent, and I’m about two weeks away from dropping out. So yeah, life’s peachy.”

Mingyu felt a strange pang in his chest as he listened. He’d been there once, clawing his way out of his own struggles. He saw a reflection of himself in your frustration, in your refusal to give up even when everything seemed stacked against you.

“Why not ask for help?” he asked, his tone more curious than judgmental.

You scoffed, your lips curling into a bitter smile. “From who? My family’s barely getting by, and my friends aren’t in a position to help. It’s just me.”

Something about the way you said it—so resigned yet so determined—hit him harder than he expected. He hadn’t come to the bar looking to get involved in anyone else’s problems, but now he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward you.

“What if someone did help you?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm.

You shot him a wary look, your brows knitting together. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you a job,” he said simply, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across your face. “What kind of job?”

“Something stable,” he replied, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Enough to cover your bills and keep you in school.”

You stared at him, clearly caught off guard. “Why would you do that?”

“Maybe I see something in you,” he said, holding your gaze. “Something worth investing in.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “There’s always a catch.”

Mingyu tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You’re right. There is.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Be my girl.”

Your eyes widened, and for the first time that night, you looked genuinely rattled. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice steady and unyielding. “Date me. Stay by my side. Let me take care of you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, your lips parting as if you were about to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“That’s insane,” you finally said, your voice rising slightly.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug. “But it’s the best offer you’re going to get.”

Your hands clenched into fists, and Mingyu could see the storm brewing in your eyes, the way you were fighting to hold your ground. But he also saw the hesitation, the flicker of doubt that told him you were considering it, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“And if I say no?” you challenged, your voice sharper now.

Mingyu’s smile faded, replaced by a look of calm seriousness. “Then you keep struggling,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I walk away.”

The air between you felt heavy, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Mingyu could see the conflict written all over your face, the way your pride clashed with your desperation.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek business card, placing it on the bar in front of you. “Take your time,” he said as he straightened up. “But don’t take too long. Opportunities like this don’t wait forever.”

Mingyu's fingers traced the cold metal of the wedding band that had sat on his finger for five years. He could still see your face so clearly that night, framed by the dim lighting of the bar. He remembered the fire in your eyes, the sharpness of your words, and the way your defiance had chipped away at his guarded heart. You hadn’t made it easy for him. In fact, you’d fought him every step of the way. But somehow, in your stubbornness, he’d found something he never knew he needed.

He chuckled bitterly at the memory of you glaring at him when he handed you that business card. He had left the club half-convinced you’d never call. But you did, two days later. And that one decision had set everything in motion—your life intertwined with his so quickly it felt inevitable, like the universe had conspired to push you together.

Mingyu’s hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles whitening as the weight of the present slammed back into him. The bedroom was silent now, suffocatingly so. His eyes fell on the wedding band that still sat on the small glass tray by the bed—your band. The one you had left behind two years ago.

The ache in his chest deepened as he reached out and picked it up, holding it between his fingers. It felt heavier than he remembered, or maybe that was just the weight of your absence. He turned it over, his thumb brushing against the faint engraving inside: Forever, no matter what.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, filled with self-loathing and regret. No matter what, he thought, his jaw tightening. That promise had shattered the night you walked away, leaving nothing but unanswered questions and an emptiness he couldn’t fill, no matter how hard he tried.

Now you were back—thrown back into his orbit by circumstances neither of you could escape. But this time, Mingyu wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers. He would hold on to you, no matter what it took. No matter what had happened between you, no matter how far you had run, Mingyu wasn’t about to let anyone—not even you—take that away from him.

*

Mingyu’s jaw clenched as his emotions roiled, threatening to spill over the edge. He paced the length of the room, each heavy step reverberating through the walls. The mere mention of you leaving, of you wanting to go "home," ignited something dangerous in him. He stopped abruptly and turned to face you, his dark eyes narrowing, filled with unrestrained fury and hurt.

"This is your home, Y/n," he growled, his voice low but trembling with intensity. "You're not going anywhere."

You flinched at his tone, your lips parting to protest, but no words came out. His presence was suffocating, his emotions a storm that threatened to consume everything in its path.

Your trembling hand reached for the wedding band you had tossed at him moments ago, lying carelessly on the floor like a discarded piece of your past. But Mingyu was faster. He bent down, scooped it up, and straightened with a sharpness that made you freeze in place.

He took a step toward you, towering over your seated form on the edge of the bed. "You think you can just throw this away?" he demanded, holding up the ring between his fingers. "You think you can throw me away?"

His words sliced through the room, heavy with the weight of his anguish. You met his gaze, defiance flickering in your eyes despite the fear. "I never leave. You—"

"No," he interrupted harshly, his voice rising. "You don’t get to justify what you did."

Before you could say another word, Mingyu grabbed your left hand with a firm grip, his touch both rough and possessive. His movements were deliberate as he slid the wedding ring back onto your finger, forcing it down until it rested snugly where it once had.

"You don’t get to decide this anymore," he spat, his tone laced with betrayal. "You’re mine, Y/n. You’ve always been mine. And you will wear this, whether you like it or not."

You yanked your hand back, tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head. "You shouldn't treat me like this. You—"

"You left me two years ago!" Mingyu roared, his anger finally breaking free. "You walked away when things got hard, and now you think you can waltz back into this life like you have any right to tell me what’s yours and what isn’t?"

His words hit you like a slap, and the tears you had been holding back began to fall. But it wasn’t just anger in his voice. Beneath the fury was something raw, something broken, something desperate.

Mingyu’s shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths as he struggled to rein in his emotions. He turned away from you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn’t want to break in front of you—not like this. But seeing the way you treated him now, after everything, after all those nights he spent waiting and wondering if you were alive or dead—it gutted him.

"You don’t get to walk away again, Y/n," he said finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "Not this time. Not ever."

You sat frozen on the bed, your hand trembling as you stared down at the ring now back on your finger. The weight of it felt suffocating, a reminder of all the promises you had broken, all the ties you thought you had severed.

Mingyu turned to face you again, his expression hardened but his eyes betraying the depth of his pain. "You’re staying," he said, finality dripping from every word. "And you’re going to learn that running from me was the biggest mistake of your life."

And with that, he left the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone with the suffocating weight of his words—and the impossible decision you had made two years ago to leave the man who refused to let you go.

*

Mingyu pounced on you mercilessly, his unrelenting touch leaving no room for protest. Tears streaked your cheeks, remnants of the countless climaxes he had forced out of you since bringing you back to this house. Every movement felt like a punishment, each thrust a reminder of his control and your helplessness beneath him.

You didn’t recognize this version of Mingyu. The man you once knew was sweet, attentive, and so careful with you. He worshiped you in a way that made you feel cherished, not claimed.

“Red dress,” you remembered him saying one night long ago, his voice soft like a whisper in the dark as he cradled you. “That’s the word. Say it if I cross the line, love.” His lips had trailed along your skin back then, his hands moving with reverence, bringing you both to a shared climax that felt like love and devotion wrapped into one.

But the Mingyu hovering above you now was someone you didn’t know. His eyes burned with something darker, something destructive. He didn’t hear you—or maybe he refused to. The only sound he seemed to acknowledge was your cries, and instead of stopping, it fueled him, driving him harder, faster, as though he wanted to break every part of you that had dared to leave him.

Your hands weakly pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance as his pace quickened, his body chasing his release with a rough intensity that only added to your pain. It wasn’t love—it was punishment. And it was tearing you apart.

“Mingyu…” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, your chest heaving beneath his weight. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t slow. He was too lost in his anger, his obsession, his need to make you his again.

It was too much. Your body ached, your heart cracked, and the memories you had buried. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Red dress…” The word fell from your lips, faint and trembling, but it was enough to make his movements falter. You gripped his shoulders with what little strength you had left, your voice louder this time, more desperate. “Red dress!”

For the first time, you said it. He made you say it.

Mingyu froze above you, his body stiffening as your safe word registered. His breathing was ragged, his hands still gripping your hips tightly, but the haze of anger and desire in his eyes began to clear. The weight of what he had done—and what he had almost done—crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

He pulled away from you abruptly, sitting back on his heels as he ran a hand through his damp hair. His gaze dropped to the floor, avoiding yours, as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

You curled into yourself further, clutching the sheets tightly against your trembling body. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t block out the flicker of memories that surged forward, uninvited and cruel.

A darkened room. A rough hand clamping over your mouth. The searing pain that ripped through you as you struggled, screamed, and pleaded with a monster who didn’t care. His laughter, cold and hollow, echoing in your ears as he broke you in ways you could never mend.

Your chest tightened as the memories clawed their way to the surface, the terror suffocating. You shut your eyes tightly, hoping to will them away, but they were relentless, forcing you to relive every second. The metallic tang of blood, the biting cold of the floor beneath you, and the deafening silence after it was all over—they haunted you.

"Stop…" you whispered, your voice shaky, as though saying it aloud could chase the memories away.

Mingyu’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his eyes filled with concern. He hadn’t seen you like this before, hadn’t known how deeply you were fractured beneath the surface.

“Y/n…” he murmured, his voice low and cautious. He reached out a hand toward you, but you flinched, shrinking further into yourself as the memories overwhelmed you.

The sound of a lock clicking echoed in your mind, followed by the ghost of a whisper, taunting and cruel: “No one’s coming for you. You’re mine now.”

You choked on a sob, clutching your knees to your chest as your breathing grew shallow. Your entire body trembled, the scars of that night ripping open as if they had never healed.

Mingyu froze, his hand hovering in the air, trembling slightly as he watched you crumble before him. This was the moment he thought he wanted—the moment you would break, the moment you would stumble into pieces right in front of him, a reflection of the pain he carried for two long years. He had imagined it countless times, the satisfaction it would bring to see you fall apart under the weight of your own actions, just as he had when you left him.

But now that it was happening, it felt nothing like he expected.

You weren’t just broken; you were shattered in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Your trembling body, the way your arms wrapped tightly around yourself like you were trying to hold what was left together—it wasn’t the kind of collapse he had fantasized about. This wasn’t regret or guilt consuming you. This was fear, despair, and something far deeper and darker than he could ever understand.

“Y/n…” he whispered, his voice faltering as he tried to reach you, but the sight of you made his hand retreat. It was as if he could feel the weight of your pain just by being near you.

Your sobs were raw and unrestrained, tearing through the room like thunder in the silence. It was unbearable, a sound he had sworn to never let leave your lips when you were his. And now, he was the reason for it, the catalyst of your unraveling.

He had wanted to see you vulnerable, to prove to himself that you weren’t untouchable, that you weren’t as strong as you appeared when you walked away. But this? This wasn’t what he wanted. The sight of your broken form twisted something inside him, something he didn’t even realize was still intact.

His lips parted as if to speak, to comfort, to apologize, but the words died in his throat. What could he say to someone who looked so lost, so haunted by a pain he couldn’t comprehend? Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision as he whispered your name again, softer this time. “I’m sorry…”

But the words tasted bitter on his tongue, hollow and meaningless against the devastation before him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t stop the ache in his chest as he realized just how far gone you were.

This was what he thought he wanted—to see you stumble, to watch you fall. But now that you had, he realized he had been wrong. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t watch you like this, drowning in a darkness he might never be able to pull you out of.

*

You met Jeonghan on a ship bound for Jeju, a vessel that had become your prison for the past month. They had held you there, tied to a bed in a dimly lit room, your wrists raw from struggling against the ropes. A filthy cloth gagged your mouth, muffling your screams while they came and went, using you as their entertainment during the long voyage.

You didn’t know what they planned to do with you. After realizing you were nothing to Mingyu, that he wasn’t coming for you, their patience had grown thin. They could’ve killed you—thrown you overboard into the endless black waves—but they kept you alive, perhaps for their own cruel satisfaction or some plan yet to be revealed.

The ship was alive with noise that night. A New Year’s Eve party was in full swing above deck, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filtering down to your dark corner of despair. But you weren’t thinking about celebration. You had spent the past hours tossing and turning, twisting your body until the ropes that bound you finally gave way.

Your hands were shaking as you worked the knife left carelessly on the desk to cut yourself free. You didn’t know how much time you had, but every second felt like a ticking clock. Once your wrists and ankles were free, you tore the gag from your mouth, the sudden rush of air painful but freeing. Your lips were cracked, your throat parched, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was getting out.

For the first time in a month, you stepped out of the room, your bare feet silent against the cold floor of the corridor. The world outside your prison felt foreign—bright lights, distant music, the murmur of voices—and it overwhelmed your senses. But you didn’t stop moving. You couldn’t.

That’s when you saw him.

Jeonghan. A stranger to you, yet his presence stopped you in your tracks. He was walking down the corridor, dressed in crisp white, his sharp features illuminated under the warm glow of the ship’s chandeliers. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.

His brows furrowed, his steps slowing as he studied you, his gaze dropping to the knife clutched tightly in your trembling hands. Before you could decide whether he was a threat or a potential savior, he spoke.

"I'm sorry,” he said softly, his voice laced with something that felt like grief. “You…you look like my late sister.”

You bit your lip hard, the guilt rising in your chest even though you didn’t know why. You didn’t have time for this. Every second wasted was a chance for them to find you.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking as desperation took over. “Help me. I’ve been kidnapped. They held me here for a month. They’re going to kill me. Please…”

Jeonghan’s expression shifted, his sharp features hardening as his gaze swept over you, taking in the marks on your wrists, the disheveled state of your clothes, and the raw fear in your eyes. For a moment, he said nothing, and you wondered if he would turn and walk away, leave you to whatever fate awaited you.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he gently took the knife from your trembling hands, his touch firm but careful, as if afraid you might shatter.

“Stay quiet,” he murmured, his voice calm yet commanding. It was the kind of tone that made you believe him, that gave you a fleeting sense of security amidst the chaos. “I’ll help you.”

"What are you thinking about?" Mingyu’s deep voice pulled you from the swirling storm of your thoughts. The dining room felt heavy with unspoken words, his presence almost suffocating as you sat across from him. Your gaze dropped to the wedding ring on your finger, spinning it absently. It hung loose now, a cruel reminder of how much weight you’d lost since the last time you’d worn it.

“Eat,” he said firmly, his tone edged with concern. “You’ve lost so much weight.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, your eyes squeezing shut as the ache in your chest grew unbearable.

"Why didn’t you look for me?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

The sound of his utensils halting against the plate echoed louder than it should have. Mingyu’s jaw tightened, his gaze unreadable as he looked at you. “Let’s not talk about this in front of the food,” he said finally, his voice clipped.

“I was waiting... for you…” Your voice cracked, the words barely audible. But even as you spoke them, the memories you’d buried began clawing their way back to the surface—the night they captured you as you walked out of his house, the nights they kept you, their hands holding you down, their voices laughing while your life was ripped apart piece by piece.

Mingyu’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table, but he didn’t say a word. His silence cut deeper than any of the horrors you had endured.

“You left me,” he said finally, his tone low and cold. “It was your decision.”

Your heart sank further, his words like a knife twisting in your chest. Your eyes fell to the ring again, its presence mocking you, and before you could stop yourself, you slid it off your finger. The metal felt foreign in your palm, just as your life with Mingyu had started to feel like a distant dream.

“Divorce me, Mingyu,” you said, your voice shaking but resolute. “I beg you.”

You slid off your chair and onto your knees beside him, desperation consuming you as tears spilled down your cheeks. “Please, divorce me.”

Mingyu froze, his breath catching as he looked down at you in shock.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice unsure, as if he didn’t recognize the woman kneeling before him—the woman who had once stood beside him with fire in her eyes and laughter in her voice.

“You never loved me,” you said, your voice breaking. “Why are you holding on to me like this? Why, Mingyu? Why?”

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t decipher—anger, pain, guilt. But still, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

You clutched the ring in your hand, trembling as you searched his face for an answer, for any sign that the man you once knew still existed somewhere within him. But all you saw was the shadow of someone who refused to let you go, even if it meant keeping you trapped in the very thing that was tearing you apart.

*

"I told you, I'd kill for you!" Mingyu’s voice thundered across the room as he stood in front of you, his body trembling with anger. You clutched the file tightly in your hands, your chest heaving as you tried to hold your ground. The contents of the file—a health report of your boss who had ‘accidentally’ been involved in a car accident—felt heavier than ever.

"You can’t just interfere in my life like this!" you shouted back, your voice cracking under the weight of frustration and exhaustion. "I have my own life, Mingyu, one that’s completely separate from yours!"

His jaw tightened, his dark eyes burning with fury. "I did it for you! Why don’t you understand? I’ve always done everything for you!"

"You can’t use your power to manipulate people like that!" you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. "This isn’t love, Mingyu! This is control!"

His fists clenched at his sides. "I did it because I love you! I wanted to protect you!"

"No," you said firmly, your voice cold and distant. "You did it because you wanted to prove something to yourself. You don’t love me. If you did, you’d listen to me. You’d trust me to handle my own life!"

The words cut through him, and for a moment, you saw the hurt flash across his face. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the seething anger he used to mask his pain.

"You never appreciate my efforts, Y/n. Do you even realize what I’ve done for you? I’ve given you everything!"

"And I never asked for any of it!" you snapped, your voice trembling with emotion. "I didn’t want your money, your power, or your obsession with control. I just wanted you, Mingyu. But you—you’ve made this impossible."

"I’ve made it impossible?" he asked incredulously, stepping closer to you. His towering figure loomed over you, but you refused to back down. "I’ve given my everything to you, and you’re telling me I’m the problem?"

"I’m done, Mingyu," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, but you knew it was the only choice you had left.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. His hand shot out to grab your arm, his grip firm but not enough to hurt. "It’s late. I’m not letting you leave in the middle of the night."

"Don’t tell me what to do!" you yelled, pulling your arm free. Your breathing was uneven, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at him.

He stood there, his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyes searching yours for something—anything—to make you stay.

Without another word, you slipped the wedding ring from your finger, the cold metal burning your skin as you clenched it in your fist. Then, with trembling hands, you threw it at him. The sound of the ring hitting the floor echoed in the suffocating silence that followed.

"I’m leaving, Mingyu," you said, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face. "Don’t look for me. Don’t try to find me."

You turned on your heel and walked toward the door, every step feeling like it was tearing you apart.

Mingyu watched your figure curled up against him, your body finally relaxed as you slept on his arm. His fingers moved instinctively, brushing the tear stains from your cheeks, the evidence of all the pain you had carried with you. Even after all this time, after everything that had happened between the two of you, you still held a place in his heart—one so sacred it terrified him. You awakened a part of him he didn’t know existed, a part that craved to protect and cherish, even when he didn’t know how to do it right.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Watching you like this, peaceful in sleep, was a stark contrast to the chaos of earlier. The image of you kneeling before him, begging him to let you go, still burned in his mind. It made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

His thoughts drifted to the beginning, to the earlier days of your marriage, when everything was new and full of promise. He had loved you with every fiber of his being, and he still did. That hadn’t changed. But somewhere along the way, everything had shifted, spiraling into arguments and misunderstandings that neither of you could navigate.

Mingyu ran a hand over his face, exhaling a shaky breath as your words from earlier echoed in his head.

"Why didn’t you look for me?"

"I was waiting for you."

His jaw tightened as guilt twisted in his gut. He had looked for you. He had turned the world upside down trying to find you, desperate to bring you back into his life. He had sent people out, combed through every lead, and left no stone unturned. And yet, you’d slipped through his fingers like sand.

But why would you say that?

Why would you think he hadn’t searched for you?

Hadn’t you known how much he needed you?

“What went wrong?” he whispered into the stillness of the room, his voice trembling with frustration and confusion.

He glanced down at you again, at the faint crease of worry that lingered even in your sleep. Had he missed something? Had he been so blinded by his own grief and desperation that he’d overlooked something crucial?

Mingyu’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as if trying to piece together the answers from the fragments of your shared past. He thought back to the fights, the nights you spent in silence, the moments when your eyes begged him to understand something he couldn’t see.

Mingyu noticed the faint movement of your eyelashes fluttering open as the morning light spilled into the room. He had been awake for a while, watching over you, memorizing the delicate rise and fall of your chest and the way your hand unconsciously rested near his heart.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering in your hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. You blinked a few times, your gaze unfocused at first, before your eyes met his.

“Am I dreaming?” you murmured, your voice hoarse with sleep.

He shook his head slowly, his smile deepening as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. His lips lingered there for a moment, warm and reassuring, as if he were silently promising that this was real.

“No,” he whispered against your skin, his voice low and steady. “You’re not dreaming.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing slightly as if you couldn’t believe he was there, holding you like this after everything. Mingyu shifted closer, his hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Your lips trembled, and for a moment, Mingyu thought you were about to cry again. But instead, you exhaled shakily, your hand hesitantly reaching up to rest against his chest.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Why are you still here after everything?”

Mingyu’s smile faltered, but his gaze never wavered. He leaned his forehead against yours, his voice trembling with emotion as he replied, “Because I love you, Y/n. I always have. Even when it hurt, even when I didn’t know how to show it, I never stopped.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you searched his face, looking for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was sincerity and the weight of a man who had been carrying the burden of his love for far too long.

“And I know I’ve made mistakes,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for them if you’ll let me.”

You didn’t answer right away, your hand tightening slightly against his chest as if grounding yourself in the reality of his words. Mingyu didn’t rush you; he simply held you, his heart pounding beneath your palm, as he waited for you to decide if you could let him back in.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely audible as you broke the silence. “Can you protect me?”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed, his hand still resting against your cheek. “What?”

“From anything,” you whispered, your eyes searching his face. “If it happens again… if they come back… could you save me? Will you always be there?”

Mingyu blinked, confused by the weight of your words. His thumb stilled against your skin as he tried to process what you were saying. “Y/n,” he said softly, tilting his head, “what are you talking about? Who’s coming back?”

You bit your lip, hesitating as the memories clawed at the edge of your mind. “Just… answer me,” you urged, your voice trembling.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. He sat up straighter, his hands gripping your shoulders gently. “What do you mean, ‘if it happens again’? What happened to you?”

You averted your gaze, unable to look him in the eye. “Mingyu, please,” you said, your voice cracking. “Just promise me you’ll be there next time. That no matter what happens, you’ll come for me.”

His heart twisted at your words, at the way your voice shook like you were asking for the impossible. He cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I did come for you,” he said, his voice firm but laced with pain. “I looked everywhere for you. I tried—God, Y/n, I tried so hard to find you.”

“But you didn’t,” you whispered, your tears spilling over. “You didn’t find me, Mingyu. And I was alone. They took me, they—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his hands trembling as he held you. “Don’t say it. Please, just—don’t.”

“But it’s the truth!” you cried, your voice breaking. “And you don’t even understand what I’m asking you. I need to know that if it happens again, you’ll—”

“It won’t happen again!” Mingyu snapped, his voice rising. “I won’t let it. Don’t you see that? I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again.”

“But you can’t promise that,” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of your fear. “You don’t even know what you’re protecting me from.”

Mingyu stared at you, his chest heaving as the reality of your words settled over him. He wanted to argue, to tell you he would protect you no matter what, but the truth was, he didn’t understand. He didn’t know the full extent of what had been done to you, and that ignorance made his promise feel fragile.

*

Mingyu leaned back in his chair after Seungkwan left, his eyes narrowing in thought. The younger man’s words echoed in his mind, but they left a bitter taste.

“Do you know something I don’t, Seungkwan?” Mingyu asked, his voice steady but laced with suspicion.

Seungkwan blinked, his brows furrowing. “What are you referring to, hyung?”

Mingyu shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

Seungkwan’s lips parted in confusion, but he quickly composed himself. “Hyung, I don’t understand. I always be honest with you."

For the first time, Mingyu felt a crack in the unwavering trust he had in Seungkwan. He had always been his confidant, his right hand, the one person who never failed him. But now… there was doubt.

Mingyu tapped his fingers on the desk, the rhythmic sound punctuating the silence of his office. His instincts told him that something didn’t add up, and for all his reassurances, Seungkwan hadn’t erased that suspicion. If anything, he’d deepened it.

What if Seungkwan knows more than he’s letting on?

The thought was dangerous, but Mingyu couldn’t dismiss it. He’d built his empire on trusting his gut, and right now, his gut was screaming at him to tread carefully.

Picking up his phone, Mingyu scrolled through his contacts and dialed a number—one of his trusted security heads who operated far outside Seungkwan’s circle.

“Hyungnim?” The voice on the other end answered almost immediately.

“I need you to start looking into something,” Mingyu said, his voice low. “Discreetly. No one else can know—not even Seungkwan.”

There was a pause before the man responded. “Understood. What are we looking for?”

Mingyu hesitated, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t put everything into words—not yet. “Just… go over the records. Anything tied to the search we did for Y/n two years ago. Cross-check it. See if there’s anything out of place. And keep me updated directly. No one else.”

“Yes, hyungnim.”

Mingyu ended the call and placed the phone back on the desk. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his mind spiraling.

He hated this feeling—the uncertainty, the doubt. He had always relied on Seungkwan. He wanted to believe him. But he couldn’t afford to take chances anymore. Not when it came to Y/n.

For now, he would keep his suspicions to himself. Seungkwan didn’t need to know what he was doing behind his back. Mingyu told himself it was just precaution. But deep down, a darker thought lingered: What if Seungkwan really did betray me?

Mingyu clenched his fists. He didn’t want to believe it. But he also knew one thing for sure—he would uncover the truth, no matter what it cost.

The file arrived late at night. Mingyu sat in his study, the glow of the desk lamp casting harsh shadows across his face as he opened the folder sent by Myungho. His heartbeat thudded heavily in his chest, each second stretched thin with anticipation.

The first thing he saw was a grainy photo from a CCTV camera. The timestamp read two years ago, the date burned into Mingyu’s mind as the time he lost you. The image showed a familiar figure walking into a high-end restaurant. Mingyu’s stomach dropped when he recognized him—Seungkwan.

Seungkwan wasn’t alone. He was with Seungcheol.

Mingyu’s jaw clenched as he flipped to the next page. More photos followed, showing Seungkwan seated with Seungcheol, their expressions unreadable in the stills. It wasn’t just one meeting. Myungho had compiled several images of them together, spanning weeks.

Then came the texts.

Seungkwan: "I’ve done what you asked. Mingyu won’t find out."

Seungcheol’s associate: "Good. We’ll keep our end of the deal. Make sure everything goes smoothly."

Seungkwan: "I’ll handle it. Just remember what we agreed on."

Mingyu’s hands tightened around the papers, his knuckles white. He read the messages over and over, trying to make sense of them. His mind raced as the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place.

Two years ago, when you disappeared, Mingyu’s business had taken a massive hit. Deals fell through, clients backed out, and his empire wavered for the first time in years. At the same time, Seungcheol’s ventures skyrocketed, almost as if he had insider knowledge of Mingyu’s operations.

And now, Mingyu had proof that Seungkwan, the man he had trusted with his life, had been meeting with Seungcheol during that exact period.

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning.

Was this why Seungkwan claimed he couldn’t find Y/n?

Had he been working with Seungcheol to sabotage me all along?

The thought made Mingyu’s blood boil. He had built everything with his own hands, had fought tooth and nail to protect it—and someone he considered family had betrayed him.

Mingyu closed his eyes, the weight of it all pressing down on him. If Seungkwan had truly betrayed him, then what else had he lied about? Had he been complicit in keeping you away from him?

He couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions—not yet. But the evidence was damning, and the rage in Mingyu’s chest grew hotter with every passing second.

Picking up his phone, he dialed Myungho.

“Hyungnim,” Myungho answered immediately.

“Keep digging,” Mingyu ordered, his voice cold and steady. “I want everything—every detail, every connection between Seungkwan and Seungcheol. I want to know what they did and why.”

“Yes, hyungnim.”

Mingyu ended the call and stared at the file on his desk. His fingers drummed against the wood as he thought.

Seungkwan would come to his office tomorrow as he always did, unaware that Mingyu now saw him in a different light. Mingyu would pretend nothing had changed—he’d play along.

But inside, a storm was brewing. Mingyu had built his empire on loyalty, and if Seungkwan had broken that loyalty, there would be consequences.

His eyes hardened as he whispered to himself, “No one betrays me and gets away with it.”

*

Mingyu drove you both to Jeonghan’s place, the familiar path stirring something nostalgic within you. It had been weeks since you’d last been there, and the moment you stepped inside, you couldn’t stop smiling. Memories flooded back as you reunited with old colleagues, chatting and hugging them like no time had passed. Your laughter echoed through the walls, and for a moment, it felt like you’d returned to a piece of yourself you thought you’d lost.

Jeonghan greeted Mingyu with a firm handshake, his characteristic smirk in place as he led him to his office. The air between the two men was thick, the weight of unspoken things hovering like smoke in the room. Speaking of which, Jeonghan pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Mingyu, who accepted without hesitation. The faint flicker of the lighter cast brief shadows on their faces as they settled into their conversation.

“I figured you’d come to visit sooner or later,” Jeonghan said casually, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair. His laid-back demeanor struck a nerve in Mingyu, who forced himself to remain calm.

Mingyu shook his head slowly, exhaling smoke as he spoke. “She refused to tell me everything.”

Jeonghan nodded knowingly. “Of course. It’s not something easy to talk about. If I were married, I don’t think I’d share the darkest parts of my life with my wife, either.”

Mingyu’s gaze sharpened. “You’re married?”

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh. “Not a chance. There’s no way I’d run a business like this with a wife waiting for me at home.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing. “Anyway, I’m guessing you’re here to know how I met your wife. It’s been over a year and a half now.”

Mingyu’s jaw tightened as Jeonghan leaned forward slightly, recalling the past.

“I don’t remember all the details, but we met on a ship to Jeju. She wasn’t in good shape. I kept her hidden in my room for about a week before I managed to fly her back to Seoul. That was tricky—getting her out without exposing her identity took some doing.”

Mingyu’s voice dropped an octave as he asked, “How was she when you found her?"

Jeonghan shook his head, his usual lightness dimming for the first time. “Horrible. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. It wasn’t just physical, though. The real damage was… mental.”

Mingyu’s fingers tightened around his cigarette, but before he could press further, the door swung open.

You stepped in, arm in arm with one of your old friends—Yumi, your face lit up with excitement. “Can we go to the café on the next block?” you asked Mingyu with a grin, your tone brimming with the carefree energy he’d missed so much.

He softened immediately, his lips curling into a small smile. “Of course, love. Let me know if you need anything.”

As soon as you left, Jeonghan’s chuckle filled the room. “You two really are married. You can see it a mile away.”

Mingyu nodded slightly, taking another drag from his cigarette. “My right hand showed you the documents, didn’t he?”

Jeonghan leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Your right hand… Seungkwan, isn’t it? Something’s off about him.”

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Jeonghan rubbed his chin, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I remember him. He’s been here before—long before you ever showed up. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but now…”

Mingyu leaned forward, his tone sharp. “What was he doing here?”

Jeonghan’s chuckle was low and deliberate. “What do you think, man? He works for you like a dog, doesn’t he? Even dogs need their own satisfaction sometimes."

The insinuation hung heavy in the air, Mingyu’s mind racing as the pieces began to connect.

*

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe him.

In the weeks that followed, Mingyu worked tirelessly to show you he was serious about rebuilding your relationship. He opened up more, shared his own fears and regrets, and listened when you finally began to share your trauma. You both sought help—individually and together—and slowly, the walls between you began to crumble.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder, Mingyu turned to you with a small smile. “You know, I don’t think I ever told you how much I admire your strength.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Strength? Mingyu, I’ve been a mess.”

He shook his head. “No. You survived things most people couldn’t even imagine. And despite everything, you’re still here, still fighting. That’s strength, Y/n. And I’m so proud of you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his waist. For the first time, you felt safe in his arms—not just physically, but emotionally.

“I think,” you whispered, “we might actually be okay.”

Mingyu pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his own eyes damp. “We will be. Together.”

The next morning, Mingyu approached you cautiously as you sat by the window, sipping tea. His face was calm, but the slight furrow of his brow gave away the thoughts swirling in his head.

“Y/n,” he began softly, catching your attention, “I’ve been thinking about everything you’ve been through and how I can help. I want to do this right.”

You looked at him, tilting your head slightly. “What do you mean?”

He stepped closer, sitting across from you. “I’ve reached out to someone—a professional. A psychiatrist. I want you to have someone to talk to, someone who can help you process everything.” His voice was steady but tinged with hesitation, as though unsure how you’d react.

Your fingers tightened around your teacup. “A psychiatrist?”

“I know it might feel strange or overwhelming, but you’ve been through so much, Y/n,” he said earnestly. “I’ve seen how you carry everything on your own, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to anymore. I’ll be here for you, always, but I’m not equipped to help you the way a professional can. You deserve this.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. The idea of opening up to a stranger about your darkest moments felt daunting, almost unbearable. Yet, there was something in Mingyu’s eyes—a mixture of concern and unwavering support—that made you consider it.

“You really think it’ll help?” you asked quietly.

“I do,” he said, reaching out to take your hand. “And I’ll be there every step of the way if you want me to be. But this is your choice, Y/n. I won’t force you into anything.”

You looked down at his hand covering yours, warmth spreading through you. For so long, you had felt like you were navigating a storm alone, but now, there was someone willing to anchor you, to guide you toward calmer waters.

“Okay,” you said after a long pause. “I’ll try.”

Mingyu’s relief was palpable, and his lips curved into a gentle smile. “Thank you, Y/n. That’s all I want—for you to feel like yourself again.”

A week later, you found yourself sitting in a cozy office, the walls painted in soothing tones of blue and green. Mingyu had accompanied you, waiting patiently outside the room as you met with Dr. Han, the psychiatrist he had carefully chosen for you.

Dr. Han was warm and approachable, her demeanor instantly putting you at ease. As the sessions progressed, you found it easier to open up, piece by piece, unraveling the tangled web of trauma, fear, and guilt that had weighed on you for so long.

Each time you left the sessions, Mingyu was there, waiting with a reassuring smile. He never pried, never asked what was discussed unless you brought it up first. Instead, he focused on being a steady presence in your life, reminding you in small, thoughtful ways that you weren’t alone.

It happened during one of your sessions with Dr. Han, but this time, Mingyu was allowed to sit in at your request. It wasn’t planned, and you had no intention of talking about everything that had been locked deep inside your heart for so long. But as you sat there, looking at Mingyu’s face, his unwavering support breaking through your walls, you decided it was time.

Your hands trembled as you spoke, your voice cracking under the weight of the words you hadn’t dared to say before. The memories came rushing out—how you were taken that night outside his house, how they had hurt you, broken you, and left you feeling like you’d never be whole again. Every agonizing detail poured out, and Mingyu sat there, silent, his jaw tightening with each word you uttered.

By the time you finished, the room was silent except for your shaky breaths. Mingyu’s hands clenched into fists, the veins in his arms bulging as he fought to contain the storm raging within him.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury, “they will pay for this. Every single one of them.”

You reached out to touch his hand, trying to calm him. “Mingyu, I—”

“No,” he cut you off, his eyes blazing with a mixture of pain and anger. “No more letting this go. They took you from me. They broke you. I can’t... I won’t let them get away with it.”

Without another word, Mingyu pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Jisoo,” he barked, his tone sharp and commanding, “get everyone to my office. Now. We’re settling this.”

The drive back to his headquarters was tense. Mingyu’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. You sat in silence, unsure of what to say, yet oddly comforted by his determination to make things right.

When you arrived, Jisoo and the rest of Mingyu’s trusted men were already gathered in his office. Mingyu stormed in, his presence commanding as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“I have reason to believe Seungkwan betrayed us,” Mingyu began, his voice cold and steely. Gasps and murmurs filled the room, but Jisoo remained calm, his eyes narrowing as he took in Mingyu’s words.

Mingyu threw a file onto the table, the photos and texts spilling out for everyone to see. “This is proof of his dealings with Seungcheol. He lied to me, he lied to all of us, and he left Y/n out there to suffer while he worked with our rival.”

Jisoo stepped forward, examining the evidence before looking up at Mingyu. “What do you want us to do, hyung?”

Mingyu’s expression darkened, his voice low and menacing. “I want justice. I want every man who was involved to pay for what they did to her. And I want Seungkwan brought to me—alive.”

The room fell silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. Jisoo nodded, his loyalty unwavering. “Consider it done.”

As the men began to file out, preparing to execute Mingyu’s orders, he turned to Jisoo one last time. “This isn’t just about business anymore. This is personal. Make sure they all understand that.”

Jisoo’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Don’t worry, hyung. They’ll understand.”

When the room was empty, Mingyu walked back to you. His expression softened slightly as he knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“Y/n, I swear to you, this ends now. You’ll never have to look over your shoulder again. I’ll protect you, no matter what it takes.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, his words offering a comfort you hadn’t felt in years. And for the first time, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, justice was finally within reach.

*

Seungkwan paced his dimly lit apartment, the glow from the city skyline casting jagged shadows across the room. His mind churned with thoughts of his next move, fueled by frustration and ambition. Mingyu’s resurgence had become impossible to ignore. The empire Seungkwan had worked so hard to weaken was rising from the ashes faster than he’d anticipated, and he knew he couldn’t stop it without drastic measures.

He glanced at his desk, where a manila envelope lay open, its contents spread out like pieces of a puzzle. Photographs of you, smiling faintly in the arms of your colleagues, and reports of your whereabouts that spanned the past two years. Seungkwan clenched his fists. He had always known where you were. From the moment you fled, he had kept tabs on you, careful to stay one step ahead of Mingyu.

It wasn’t just about business anymore. It was personal. Mingyu had everything—power, loyalty, love. Seungkwan wanted it all. He wanted to replace Mingyu, to claim the empire he believed should have been his, and he would use every weapon in his arsenal to make it happen.

And you, the one thing that could shatter Mingyu’s focus, were the perfect distraction.

Seungkwan picked up his phone and dialed a number, his fingers steady despite the storm raging inside him. “It’s time,” he said when the call connected. “Make the arrangements. We’re putting her in the frame again.”

The voice on the other end hesitated. “Are you sure about this? Mingyu’s already suspicious of you. If he finds out—”

“He won’t find out,” Seungkwan snapped, his tone sharp and commanding. “Mingyu’s too blinded by his feelings for her to see the bigger picture. He’ll be too busy protecting her to notice what’s happening under his nose.”

The plan was simple but ruthless. Seungkwan would leak just enough information to make it seem like he had miraculously “found” you, ensuring you were brought back into Mingyu’s orbit. He would manipulate events to sow seeds of doubt, making it appear as though you were somehow tied to the setbacks Mingyu had faced in the past.

Seungkwan smirked bitterly, his eyes dark with envy and determination. He had always envied the way Mingyu looked at you, the way he spoke your name as if it were sacred. Seungkwan wanted to strip that away, to prove that love and loyalty were nothing more than weaknesses.

But deep down, he knew his ambitions outstripped his competence. Mingyu’s cunning, his ability to rebuild from the ruins, was something Seungkwan could never match. That thought only fueled his desperation, pushing him further into the abyss of his schemes.

As he hung up the phone, Seungkwan stared at the photograph of you on his desk, his expression a twisted mix of resentment and resolve. “You’ll be the key,” he muttered to himself. “The key to taking everything from him.”

He poured himself a drink and sat back, the weight of his plan settling over him. The lines between personal and professional had long since blurred, and now there was no turning back. If he couldn’t have what Mingyu had built, he would destroy it—and you would be the cornerstone of his revenge.

Seungkwan sat rigid in the sleek leather chair across from Seungcheol, the low hum of the air conditioner the only sound in the room. Seungcheol’s office was cold, both in temperature and atmosphere. It was an embodiment of the man himself—efficient, calculated, and devoid of sentimentality.

Seungcheol tapped a pen against the edge of his desk, his sharp eyes fixed on Seungkwan, studying him like a chess piece he was deciding whether to sacrifice.

“You’ve come to me for protection,” Seungcheol began, his tone measured, almost disinterested. “But you’ve yet to explain why I should bother.”

Seungkwan straightened his back, forcing himself to appear composed despite the storm of nerves raging inside him. “Mingyu is closing in. He’s suspicious of me, and it’s only a matter of time before he acts. I’ve been loyal to you, Cheol—feeding you information, giving you an edge. That has to mean something.”

Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. “Loyalty is a word people like to throw around when they’re desperate. Let’s not pretend this was ever about loyalty, Seungkwan. You came to me because you wanted power. Because you saw an opportunity to rise above your station.”

“That’s not—”

“Spare me,” Seungcheol interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “You turned on Mingyu because you thought it would benefit you. Don’t expect me to believe otherwise. And now that your gamble has backfired, you want me to clean up the mess?”

Seungkwan clenched his fists, his face flushing with frustration. “I’ve been an asset to you! Mingyu’s losses, his setbacks—those didn’t happen by coincidence. I made them happen. I gave you the information you needed to cripple him.”

“And what’s stopping me from discarding you now that I have everything I need?” Seungcheol’s voice was calm, almost bored, but there was an edge of menace in his words.

Seungkwan’s jaw tightened. “Because Mingyu isn’t finished. He’s rebuilding, faster and stronger than we anticipated. If you leave me out to dry, you’ll be facing him at full strength, and you know as well as I do that Mingyu doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.”

Seungcheol smirked, his amusement cold and condescending. “You think I fear Mingyu?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Let me tell you something, Seungkwan. Mingyu is formidable, yes. But men like him—men driven by love and loyalty—they are predictable. And predictability is a weakness.”

“Then why not use me?” Seungkwan pressed, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know how he thinks. I can help you dismantle him piece by piece.”

Seungcheol’s smirk faded, replaced by an expression of cold indifference. “You overestimate your value, Seungkwan. Mingyu trusted you, and you betrayed him. Do you think I’d trust you any more than he did?”

“I had no choice!” Seungkwan shot back, his voice rising. “Mingyu’s world suffocated me! I gave everything to him, and it was never enough. I deserve more than being his shadow!”

Seungcheol’s gaze hardened. “You don’t deserve anything, Seungkwan. You earn it, or you take it. And from where I’m sitting, you’ve done neither.”

Seungkwan’s breath caught in his throat. He had come here hoping for an ally, for someone to stand between him and Mingyu’s wrath. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a man who saw him as nothing more than a tool—disposable, replaceable.

“Here’s my advice,” Seungcheol said, rising from his chair and walking around the desk to stand over Seungkwan. “Run. Disappear. Because when Mingyu finds you—and he will find you—I won’t be lifting a finger to save you.”

Seungkwan swallowed hard, the weight of Seungcheol’s words sinking in. “You’ll regret this,” he muttered, rising from his chair.

Seungcheol chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “No, Seungkwan. The only one with regrets here is you.”

Seungkwan stormed out of the office, his mind racing. He had gambled everything, and now he had no allies left. All he had was the knowledge that Mingyu was closing in—and he was out of time.

*

It had been a quiet afternoon when Yumi suggested you go out for a coffee and stroll. The idea of unwinding felt like a breath of fresh air, so you agreed, trusting her as you always did. The two of you wandered through the park, sharing stories and laughing, the kind of lightheartedness you had missed. Yumi seemed more excited than usual, her energy contagious as she led you toward a quieter street.

"There's a new cafe around the corner," she said, smiling warmly. "You’ll love it. It’s got this cozy vibe, perfect for catching up."

You followed her, glancing at your phone to let Mingyu know where you were. Before you could hit send, Yumi suddenly slowed her steps, her demeanor shifting subtly.

"Everything okay?" you asked, sensing something off.

Before she could respond, you felt a cold hand on your arm. Turning around, your heart dropped as Seungkwan appeared, his expression a mixture of triumph and menace. He didn’t come alone—two of his men flanked him, blocking any chance of escape.

"Hello, Y/n," Seungkwan greeted, his tone deceptively calm. "Nice day for a walk, isn’t it?"

You instinctively stepped back, but Yumi’s hand on your wrist stopped you. That’s when it hit you—this wasn’t a coincidence.

"Yumi?" you whispered, disbelief washing over you as you looked at her.

She avoided your gaze, her smile now tinged with guilt. "I’m sorry," she murmured. "I didn’t have a choice."

Seungkwan chuckled, stepping closer. "Don’t blame her too much. She’s been very helpful, feeding me all sorts of useful information." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "Including where to find you."

Your heart raced as his men closed in, grabbing you despite your struggle. You shouted, hoping someone nearby might hear, but it was a quiet street, and no help came.

"Don’t make this harder than it has to be," Seungkwan warned, pulling a gun from his coat and pressing it to your side. The cold metal against your skin sent a chill down your spine. "We’re going for a little ride."

"Why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice shaking as you glared at him.

Seungkwan smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "To teach Mingyu a lesson. And you, my dear, are the perfect way to do it."

The car ride was suffocating. Seungkwan didn’t say much, his men watching you like hawks. Yumi sat quietly in the front seat, her silence louder than any apology she could offer. You wanted to scream, to cry, but you forced yourself to stay calm. Panicking wouldn’t help you now.

When the car stopped, you were dragged into a building you immediately recognized: Mingyu’s office. Your heart pounded as you realized what Seungkwan was planning. He was using you to get to Mingyu, and there was no way this would end peacefully.

As you were forced through the hallways, Mingyu’s men appeared, their eyes widening in shock. They tried to intervene, but the gun pressed against your head kept them at bay.

"Stand down!" Seungkwan barked, dragging you further inside. "Unless you want her blood on your hands."

The silence in Mingyu's office was suffocating as the door burst open, Seungkwan stepping in with you held tightly in his grasp, a gun pressed against your temple. Mingyu stood frozen for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours. He could see the fear you tried to hide, your trembling hands clinging to the fabric of your coat. His fury was palpable, but he didn’t let it show—his calm facade was a mask, concealing the storm brewing inside him.

Seungkwan's smirk was mocking as he pushed you further into the room. "Surprised, hyung? Or maybe not. I’m sure you’ve already figured it out. You’re smart, after all."

Mingyu’s voice was low, dangerous, as he took a step forward. "Let her go, Seungkwan."

"Ah, ah, ah," Seungkwan chided, the gun digging into your temple as you flinched. "One more step, and I’ll splatter her brains all over this room. You wouldn’t want that, would you?"

Mingyu froze, his jaw tightening. His hands raised slightly in a gesture of surrender. "You don’t have to do this. Let her go, and we’ll talk. Just you and me."

Seungkwan’s laugh was bitter, almost maniacal. "Talk? Now you want to talk? After everything? After you’ve had everything handed to you while I’ve had to scrape and crawl for scraps?"

"You think this is about me?" Mingyu shot back, his voice rising slightly. "You think hurting her will fix what’s broken inside you?"

Seungkwan’s grip on you tightened as he sneered. "This isn’t just about you. It’s about everything you’ve taken from me. The respect, the loyalty, the power—and now, even her. You’ve built your empire on my back, and I’m taking it all back, piece by piece."

You tried to steady your breathing, your voice barely above a whisper. "Seungkwan, please. You don’t have to do this. This won’t end the way you want it to."

Seungkwan ignored you, his eyes locked on Mingyu. "Tell your men to stand down, hyung. I’m walking out of here, and she’s coming with me."

Mingyu’s fists clenched at his sides, but he kept his voice even. "Alright. I’ll call them off. Just don’t hurt her." He pulled out his phone, dialing Jisoo. "Tell everyone to stand down. No one makes a move until I say so."

Satisfied, Seungkwan smirked. "Good. Now, let’s settle this like men. But first..." His eyes darkened as he looked at you. "Let’s make him watch you suffer a little."

Mingyu’s body tensed, his eyes narrowing as he took a careful step forward. "Seungkwan, if you hurt her, there’s no coming back from this. Whatever you think you’re proving, it won’t matter. You’ll have nothing left."

Seungkwan hesitated for a moment, his grip on you faltering just slightly. You felt it—the tiniest crack in his resolve—and you acted on instinct. Twisting your body, you broke free from his hold, stumbling forward just as Mingyu lunged toward him.

The gun went off, the deafening sound echoing through the room. Your scream filled the air as Mingyu wrestled the weapon out of Seungkwan’s hand, pinning him to the floor with a force that rattled the furniture. Blood trickled from a graze on Mingyu’s arm, but he didn’t seem to notice as he pressed his forearm against Seungkwan’s throat.

Seungkwan choked under the weight of Mingyu's arm, his face contorted in pain and anger as he struggled against the grip. Mingyu's eyes burned with fury, a darkness you had never seen before.

"You had the nerve to put her in harm's way?" Mingyu growled, his voice low and dangerous. "After everything I did for you?"

Seungkwan coughed, clawing at Mingyu’s arm. "You don’t get it, do you?" he spat, his voice strained. "You think you’re untouchable. But everything you have should’ve been mine!"

"You betrayed me!" Mingyu roared, tightening his grip. "You betrayed us all! For what? To chase a delusion of power you could never handle?"

You stood frozen near the corner of the room, trembling as the events unfolded. The gunshot was still ringing in your ears, and all you could focus on was the thin line of blood running down Mingyu’s arm. He had risked himself for you.

One of Mingyu’s men burst into the room, his weapon drawn. "Hyungnim!" he called, his gaze darting between Mingyu and Seungkwan.

"Stay back," Mingyu ordered, his voice cold. His attention returned to Seungkwan, whose resistance was weakening. "Tell me, Seungkwan," Mingyu said, his voice quieter but no less menacing. "Was it worth it? Selling out everything we built for a shot in the dark?"

Seungkwan coughed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You’ll never understand," he rasped. "I’m not like you, Mingyu. I’ll never be like you. And I couldn’t stand living in your shadow anymore."

Mingyu’s jaw clenched as he stared down at the man who had once been his most trusted ally. For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might not let him go. But then his eyes flicked to you, and he saw the fear written all over your face. Slowly, he eased the pressure on Seungkwan’s throat, standing and motioning for his men to take him.

"Get him out of my sight," Mingyu said coldly. "I’ll deal with him later."

Two of his men dragged Seungkwan out of the office, his protests fading into the distance. The moment the door closed, Mingyu turned to you, his expression softening as he crossed the room in a few long strides.

"Y/n," he said gently, reaching out to touch your arm. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head, but tears spilled down your cheeks as the adrenaline crashed over you. "Mingyu, you’re bleeding," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"It’s nothing," he replied, brushing it off as he cupped your face with his uninjured hand. "You’re what matters. Are you okay?"

You nodded, though your body was still shaking. "I thought—I thought I was going to lose you," you admitted, your voice breaking.

Mingyu pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if to reassure you that he was still there. "You’ll never lose me," he murmured against your hair. "Not now, not ever. I promise."

As he held you, the weight of what had just happened hung heavy in the air. Mingyu had always been a protector, but this was different. He had faced betrayal, risked everything, and still put your safety above all else.

And in that moment, you realized just how far Mingyu would go to keep you safe.

*

Jeonghan’s wedding was a grand affair, held at an outdoor venue surrounded by lush gardens and glowing fairy lights. The evening air was filled with the hum of laughter and soft music, the perfect backdrop for a celebration of love. You stood beside Mingyu, your hand resting on his arm as the two of you watched Jeonghan and his bride share their first dance under the canopy of stars.

Mingyu glanced at you, his gaze lingering on your glowing expression. "You’re smiling like it’s your wedding," he teased softly, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laughed, nudging him lightly. "Maybe because I know how it feels to have my own dream come true," you said, your free hand gently brushing over your small baby bump.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, his fingers tightening around yours as he looked down at your stomach. “Every time I see you like this, it feels surreal. Like we’ve finally made it.”

His words made your heart swell. The two of you had been through so much—heartbreak, betrayal, and pain. Yet here you were, not just surviving but thriving. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as the music swayed around you.

“I wouldn’t trade this for anything,” you murmured.

Before Mingyu could reply, Jeonghan appeared in front of you, grinning wide as he stretched out his arms. “Y/n, Mingyu! Aren’t you two going to come congratulate me properly? I didn’t just invite you to stand there being all lovey-dovey.”

You laughed and stepped forward to hug Jeonghan. “Congratulations, Jeonghan. It’s a beautiful wedding.”

Jeonghan returned the hug, then turned to Mingyu, who gave him a firm handshake. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Mingyu said with a chuckle.

Jeonghan smirked. “What can I say? I don’t settle for less.” Then, his gaze fell to your belly, and his expression softened. “And you two are about to outdo me in the family department. When’s the baby due?”

“In about three months,” you said, smiling warmly.

Jeonghan gave a low whistle. “Wow. It’s hard to believe you two are already at this stage. Seems like just yesterday Mingyu couldn’t figure out how to smile in a photo.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Don’t start embarrassing me at your own wedding.”

Jeonghan laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Fine, fine. But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You deserve this happiness after everything.”

As Jeonghan left to mingle with other guests, Mingyu turned back to you, his hand instinctively finding its place on your belly. His thumb brushed against the fabric of your dress, and his eyes were full of love as he looked at you.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes,” he admitted softly. “That you’re here, with me, and we’re going to be parents soon. It feels like a dream I don’t want to wake up from.”

You smiled, placing your hand over his. “It’s real, Mingyu. And we’re going to make the most of it.”

Later in the evening, as the two of you sat at your table watching the festivities, Mingyu leaned over and whispered, “I’ve been thinking… Once the baby’s here, we should move out of the city. Somewhere quieter, where we can focus on our family.”

You turned to him, surprised but touched. “Really? What about your business?”

Mingyu smiled. “I left it in Jisoo’s hands. He’s more than capable. I don’t want to be tied to that life anymore. I want to be with you and our child, making a life that’s ours, free from all of that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you leaned in to kiss him gently. “I love you, Mingyu.”

“And I love you,” he replied, his hand once again finding its place on your belly.

The night ended with you and Mingyu dancing under the stars, the world around you fading into the background. Jeonghan’s wedding wasn’t just a celebration of his love but also a reminder of how far you and Mingyu had come—a testament to your strength, resilience, and love.

As the two of you swayed to the music, Mingyu pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “This is only the beginning for us, Y/n. I promise, our best days are still ahead.”

And as you leaned into him, your heart full of hope and love, you believed him.

End.

[moonchild9350]

You Can Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

summary: your friends tell you about a brothel that resides in your city, a place to live out your deepest desires.

pairing: sex worker Jeongin x fab!reader

genre: smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 3.0k

warnings: takes place in a brothel so sex work, munch innie lol, overstimulation, edging, pussy job, protected (do) and unprotected sex (don't), removal of condom, creampie, squirting, soft dom reader, soft? sub innie, cum tasting, dirty talk, messy sex lol, brief mention of blood, vocal innie hehe

notes: Innie just looks so innocent in these pics idk just had to write something haha. i hope you like it! (lightly edited)

if you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, and like ♡

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permissions. ©moonchild9350 (2025)

General Masterlist

It was the weekend, another exhausting week over and done with. You knew you wanted to unwind this weekend and after talking with your friend, you knew just the activity that would help you relax.

Your friend told you about a brothel in town, filled with men who are waiting to fulfill your every desire, no matter what it is. You were curious about the experience, never having been to one, so you decided to sign up right away.

You loved picking out your prey for the night, explaining what you wanted and how. As the time got closer to your reservation, you decided to get ready, as you bought the perfect outfit.

You slipped on your lingerie, the red a striking color on your skin tone, followed by your mini dress. It hung perfectly on your thighs, your curves accentuated and your breasts perched beautifully showing just enough cleavage. You slipped on your heels and eyed yourself in the mirror, more than satisfied with your look. Grabbing your bag, you made your way to the door, as your ride had just pulled up to your house.

The brothel offered its own transportation, allowing you to arrive in style, and who were you to deny the opportunity to be chauffeured. A sleek, black car awaited you, the driver waiting by the backdoor ready to escort you into the vehicle. You accepted his help and slid in. He closed the door and got back into the drivers seat, putting the car in drive and pulling away from your home.

The ride was short, as the brothel was just downtown, nestled in between two office buildings. To the ordinary passerby, they’d never guess what was going on between the walls of what seemed like another regular office building. You walked over to the receptionist, giving her your name.

Only a second more and her face lit up as she located your reservation.

“You are booked with Jeongin, correct?” She asked, her eyes scanning the computer screen before looking at you for confirmation.

“That’s correct,” you said, giving her a smile.

She nodded her head once and then went back to eyeing the computer screen, her nails click clacking occasionally on the keyboard as she finished checking you in.

After a few moments more she looked up and said, “you’re all set. Jeongin is waiting for you in room 143. I hope you have a great time and if you need anything please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

You followed where she gestured, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you made your way down a long hallway. There were doors on either side of the hall, a placard with the room number placed perfectly in the middle. Other than the soft music that played overhead, it was silent.

Arriving at your destination, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door three times. You listened carefully for a response, grasping the door knob and turning when you heard a faint “come in.”

You stepped into the room, your eyes instantly roaming over your surroundings. It was stylish but cozy and not too big. There was a window at the far end of the wall, with sheer curtains pulled across, blocking the outside world from looking in. A couch sat in the corner, fluffy pillows littering every section. Your eyes continued to roam, taking in a bathroom to your right, the lights off except for a mini nightlight in the wall. Finally, your eyes landed on the queen sized bed in the center of the room, outfitted with a white downy comforter, and piles of pillows.

A man got up from the bed, his eyes directed right at you.

“Y/n?” He asked, wanting to confirm the right person was in the room.

“That’s me,” you replied, “and you’re Jeongin?”

He nodded and smiled, little dimples popping up with the gesture. Jeongin was cute, his face chiseled but with a hint of babyish features. His hair was perfectly styled, the strands framing his face haphazardly. He was dressed in all white, his shirt unbuttoned half way to reveal a portion of his chest, the outline of his pecs poking through the gap.

Jeongin was outfitted just how you wanted him, innocent appearing and ready for you to ruin.

“I’m ready for you,” Jeongin replied as he sat on the bed and looked at you in a way that made your pussy clench.

You smirked at his eagerness and sauntered over to him, your heels click clacking on the tile floor.

“Yeah baby?” You cooed as you kneeled on the bed to get closer to him.

He merely nodded his head, his big brown eyes locked on yours. You maneuvered yourself so you were lying on your back, your dress riding up your thighs and teasing him for what was underneath. You spread your legs, displaying your panties that now was sporting a small wet patch to Jeongin.

He eagerly scrambled towards you, spreading your legs as he got comfortable in between them. You sighed as he began to press soft kisses up your thighs, edging closer and closer to your core. Right when he got to the place you needed him most, he switched legs, kissing the flesh there as he stroked your other thigh.

Once he was satisfied, he dragged his lips on your skin until he reached your pelvis, his nose brushing the fabric of your panties. He breathed in your scent, his pupils dilating and cock twitching at your scent. Jeongin pressed his plush lips against your pussy again and again before spitting on the fabric and pressing his tongue flat against your covered entrance before licking up towards your clit.

You let out a low moan as he repeated the motion again and again, teasing you until you were writhing under his grasp.

“Take em off baby,” you cooed.

Jeongin let out a whine before disconnecting his mouth from your pussy. He reached up to grasp the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs before tossing them away. He immediately attached himself back to your pussy, his tongue darting out to play with your clit.

You laid there completely relaxed as Jeongin ate you out, as he lazily played with your clit, edging you to the point of tears. His mouth felt so good, your slick continually leaking out of your entrance and onto his face.

As he sucked your clit into his mouth, he shoved two fingers within your warmth and instantly curled them upwards, stimulating your sweet spot and causing you to see stars. You gripped his hair and tugged, moaning at the vibrations his mouth was giving you as he groaned.

His fingers were steadily moving in and out of your pussy, the pressure against your sweet spot causing pleasure to spread throughout your core as his tongue batted at your clit. You were close so you began to thrust your hips in tune with how he was fingering you.

“Ahh gonna come baby!” You squealed as he picked up the pace.

You felt the warmth increase and the coil tighten within your belly, your orgasm threatening to hit at any moment. You took a breath and Jeongin bit at your clit and you let go with a loud moan as he continued to slide his fingers in and out of you while sucking gently at your clit.

You arched your back as he continued to suck, your legs attempting to close at the overstimulation, but finding it difficult to do so as Jeongin held your legs open. He pressed himself further to your pussy, licking up your slick, making sure not to waste a single drop.

“Mmm too much,” you whined as you tugged on his hair attempting to lift his head up, but it was no use as he buried his face even more so he could continue to give attention to your clit.

Without warning, your orgasm hit you once more, lighter this time around but still powerful nonetheless. You whimpered as you let the feeling take over, staring up at the ceiling as stars danced across your vision.

Finally, Jeongin leaned back as he licked his lips, his face shining with your slick. He grinned as he took in your pussy, his eyes landing on your folds soaked with his spit and your cum, to your puffy, swollen clit that was peaking out so perfectly.

You slowly sat up, your hair a mess, and the straps of your dress hanging haphazardly on your shoulders and smirked at Jeongin.

“Lay down for me,” you said shifting so Jeongin could take your spot.

Once he was comfortable, you slid your dress off and crawled towards your lover for the night. Your hands slid up his legs, running gently over the fabric of his pants before reaching his bulge. You gripped him through his pants, smirking as he let out a whine at the pressure you were applying.

“Take it out please, please,” Jeongin whimpered as he pouted at you.

“Should I take out your cock? Do you deserve it though?” You teased back.

Jeongin quickly shook his head, strands of hair falling in his face. “Please?” He asked once more.

You were satisfied with his plea, so you gripped his waistband and dragged his pants down his legs watching as his cock sprung from its confines and nestled against his belly, nice and hard.

Tossing his pants elsewhere, you straddled his legs and nestled your pussy over his length. You began to rock your hips, his cock slotting perfectly between your folds, the tip catching at your clit with each thrust.

The feel of your pussy dragging against his cock was too much, the pleasure he was receiving causing him to let out a groan that rumbled deep within his chest. Jeongin’s eyes went straight to your pussy and his hands on your hips as he helped guide you over his length.

You were wet, your slick coated his cock and aiding in the glide as you fucked yourself over his length. His cock felt good, the vein that ran along his length hitting the right spots as you thrusted your hips.

Jeognin let out a mewl as he bit his lips his eyes snapping to yours. “Gonna come, shit…don’t stop. Please, please, please,” he mumbled, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Yeah? Gonna come? So good for me,” you said breathlessly, as your orgasm was steadily building.

You looked down briefly at where your pussy was gliding effortlessly against his cock and what you saw nearly made you come right there. It was messy, your cream coating his length and the head of his cock was an angry red, drops of precum leaking from the slit. You looked back up at Jeongin, taking in his fucked out state, as his bit his lips so hard, he drew blood, the red droplets smeared across his bottom lip.

With a yelp, you watched as he let go, his cum spurting out onto his belly and your pussy, the white substance adding to the mess that was already present. His release triggered yours, your high hitting you for the third time that night. You continued to thrust against his length, riding out your high as the pleasure slowly simmered away.

You slowed down until you came to a stop as you tried to catch your breath. Jeongin was in no better state, his body glistening with sweat, his pupils dilated and full of lust. You barely registered that he was getting up until you were flat on your back. You stared up at the man above you with wide eyes, surprised at his bust of confidence.

He was still hard and you could tell it was bothering Jeongin as he was desperate to be inside you. You watched as he rolled a condom down his length as it was the rules of the brothel before he brought the head to your entrance and pushed in.

You let out a moan at the stretch, trying to even out your breathing as he continued to sheath himself inside you. Once he bottomed out, he didn’t give you a chance to adjust but instead began to draw his cock in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace.

You were turned on even more as he whined and whimpered, his voice high pitched and strained as he fucked you with force. His eyes trained on your breasts, watching as they bounced up and down with each thrust. He groaned as his hands reached out and gripped them, messaging the flesh and pinching your nipples. You clenched around him as he flicked at the nubs, the sensation of pleasure traveling down to your core.

“Fuck! This pussy oh my god!” Jeongin moaned as his hips slammed into yours.

“Fuck me harder baby,” you moaned as he adjusted himself so he could drive himself deeper within you, so much so you could feel his cock kiss your cervix.

“I’m. Trying.” He said as he punctuated each word with a thrust.

He brought your legs up over his shoulders and leaned down over you. You could feel yourself get even more wet, the evidence present with the sound your pussy made with each drag of his cock within your walls. You were close, the feeling spreading within your belly. You felt your breath increase with each thrust of his hips, as a different sensation started to build. You have only felt this way a few times, most men not able to get you there, but apparently this would be one of those times.

You relaxed further into the pillow as you looked Jeongin in the eyes. His pace increased ever so slightly and you could tell he was close, his groans increasing as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Na uh baby, don’t you dare come until I do,” you warned, smirking as his eyes snapped open and stared down at you.

“But, I don’t think I can hold it,” he whined as a pained moan left his lips.

“Too bad, make me come and then you can okay?”

Jeongin took a breath and nodded his head in resignation. You smiled up at him and gripped his arms as he fucked you. He angled himself differently one last time, this time his cock dragging against your sweet spot, causing you to mewl out at the sensation.

You felt your orgasm build more steadily, the feeling building until it was right there, slowly spilling, your pussy fluttering around his cock. Jeongin grinned before pressing down on your lower belly, the added pressure causing you to squirt, your fluids threatening to push his cock out of your pussy. However, he just shoved his length harder within you, reveling in your pleasure as you thrashed around beneath him.

Jeongin had made you come and he couldn’t hold off any longer. He withdrew his length causing you to whimper at the sudden loss, before he gripped the condom and pulled it off of his cock. It was against the rules, but rules be damned. He wanted to feel you fully as he filled you up to the brim with his cum.

You gasped as he sheathed himself back within you and fucked you at an inhuman pace, the sound of skin slapping skin filling up the room. You let out whimpers, the overstimulation now to much, however, you just laid there and took his cock, as you slowly found yourself slipping away and succumbing to the pleasure.

“Shh,” Jeongin cooed as he pushed your hair from your sweaty face. “This will be between you and me yeah?”

You nodded in consent, understanding that this would be your little secret. At your admission, Jeongin snapped his hips into yours one last time before stilling, his orgasm hitting him hard as he came deep inside you.

He took a few moments to catch his breath before withdrawing his cock, his cum leaking out of your entrance and down your ass. Jeongin quickly dragged a finger through the fluids before bringing it to his lips, moaning as he tasted the mixture of your arousals.

You laid there exhausted and spent, your body sore and aching from the abuse it had just received. You both were silent as you came back to reality, the only sound was the loud, rapid beating of your heart in your ears.

Finally, you sat up and faced Jeongin who was sitting next to you.

“That was amazing,” you said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his eyes.

“Yeah? I’m glad,” he said as he grinned, his cheeks turning a ruddy color at the praise.

“Aww you’re so cute!” You teased as you tried to pinch his cheeks just for him to chuckle and try to evade your advances.

After a while, you both found yourselves lying side by side, your bodies sticky from the mixture of your cum and his and dried sweat. Your mind drifted off to how his mouth felt on your pussy and how he took care of your body like no one else before. You may have to visit him more often. But, you had one night with him now and you weren’t going to waste it.

Getting up, you straddled his body and scooted up to his head.

“Ready for dessert?” You asked as you began to lower your pussy over his mouth.

Jeongin just licked his lips and gripped your hips bringing your core to his tongue.

“Oh!” You squealed as he dug in.

As they say dessert is sometimes the best part of the meal and Jeongin would definitely have to agree.

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek

divider by @cafekitsune

[iwashie]

Sevika x stripper!reader, +18, 3k, MDNI!!

“Don’t get your hopes up, girl.” You furrowed your eyebrows, a pout forming on your beautiful face as you watched your painted nails press against the sheet, avoiding looking at her getting dressed. “You know it was just a good time together.”

You bit your mouth, feeling your chin tremble and your eyes burn from the tears that were about to come out because of your heart that had just been broken by Sevika. It's always been that way; you did your job as a dancer in the brothel, exchanging glances with her all night so that at the end of the night she would steal you from other customers, pleasure you, leave a good amount of money and then leave out through the door in the same hurried way that she entered. You knew it was stupid to fall in love with something momentary, but how could you not get feelings when Sevika protected you from annoying customers, looked at you with attention and desire, and gave you pleasure as if you were the only woman in the world. As if her mission was to be your devotee, as she was in those few hours you two spent in a room at the back of the brothel.

You knew you would only suffer if you harbored feelings for those gray eyes and roguish smile. You knew it was all in vain, but you did it anyway; you fell in love with those moments and Sevika's warmth. What can one do about it? The heart wants what it wants…

You felt her fingers on your chin, lifting your gaze to hers and you saw those light gray eyes soften, indecision hovering on her face for brief seconds, soon disappearing as soon as she squeezed your chin. “We're not… I’m not for that, girl.”

Sevika let go of your face and turned back, that broad back disappearing through the door and leaving you alone in the messy room still smelling of tobacco, your perfume and the faint smell of sex, the low purple light wavering just like you. You felt your eyes fill with water, the stinging soon turning into a silent cry, hot tears running down your face along with the makeup and the pain of disappointment filling you as you lay down on the bed messed up by the two of you.

After that night, Sevika never showed up at the brothel again and you had to get used to the new empty routine of looking around the corner where she used to stay and just having the men play, and the automaticity of you getting on stage, dancing, serving a few customers and then left alone, cramming yourself into the big coat, heading through the streets of Zaun.

You moved to the beat of the music, your body swaying back and forth, making the sequin skirt glued to your thighs reflect the colors of the pebbles and follow the slow movements of your waist while your arms slid along the hem, wrapping around the object and holding the weight of your body so you can turn, go up, go down, support yourself and perform as you had rehearsed. Luckily for you, the music was calm, sensual and somewhat melancholy, helping you keep your eyes on the floor as you danced, avoiding eye contact with the customers, as you had been doing since that night.

You felt the music echoing inside you, guiding your movements across the bar, sliding to the floor and continuing the performance lying down, moving your legs and waist in alternating movements according to the rhythm of the music. You climbed back up, jumping on the bar and spinning a few times before hanging upside down, your legs up simulating steps and returning to stand straight on the bar, sliding your hand as your waist swayed against the object. You looked around the people present in the place, not lingering too long on the men who were smiling and enjoying your performance, looking at the back of the brothel to attract customers as they entered, but you swore you saw her hiding in the back.

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you continued the performance, taking the opportunity to check if it was really her. It was her. Sevika was hidden at the back, leaning against the wall, the green light of the brothel barely illuminated her, but you knew that powerful posture, those gray eyes focused on your figure. You finished dancing and continued working, waiting on some tables and keeping company with other customers, your gaze always following where she was.

Sevika looked so different since the last time you saw her. Her hair was very short, that confident and arrogant expression gave way to a dejected and irritated one, those gray eyes that shone with determination and desire were just a blurry gray in a pitiful and sad look, but the worst of all was that her left arm was missing. Sevika held eye contact with you for a long time, and you noticed how exhausted and helpless she was. You almost abandoned everything and followed her when she looked away and left the brothel with her head down.

You ended the night without seeing her again, and that made you restless, a mix of anxiety and nervousness growing inside you, almost leading you to run out and look for her. You stepped out of the brothel and tightened the strap of your bag on your shoulder, closing your arms around your body to hold the heavy coat and protect you from the cold night, you sighed deeply and prepared to continue on your way when in the corner of your eye you saw something moving in the dim street light.

You held your breath, tightening your grip and feeling your heart beat faster, your eyes filling with water as you stared at Sevika standing in front of you protected by a long cloak, both waiting for a reaction from the other. You didn't look away from the woman and saw those eyes ask for you. You almost dropped your bag when you let go of your arms and took steps towards her, the click of your heels echoing loudly on the deserted street, stopping a few steps away from her, asking for permission to get closer.

Sevika let her shoulders fall, sighing softly, and you threw yourself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug that was returned by the woman with the only arm she had left. She buried her face in your neck like she used to do, and in that moment, you had forgotten she had broken your heart and disappeared, and now she came back like a dog regretting having run away from home. You didn't say anything, that hug said it all, and you knew that she had been through a lot during her absence.

You two followed in silence through the streets, heading somewhere you weren't sure of since you had never taken that route, much less had the woman's company. You stopped walking in the middle of the busy street with the bars around, and she also stopped. That silence was killing you, and you needed to know why she was doing that to you.

“Sevika…” The rest of the sentence died in your throat when she looked at you, those gray eyes reflecting your stupid image staring at her and that mischievous sparkle appeared in her eyes again, making you get lost in the present and past, barely noticing her approaching and towering over you, your eyes trailing to her puffy mouth painted with dark lipstick.

You gasped as your back met the hard wall and you felt Sevika's body pressing against yours, her breasts against yours, her hot breath hitting your face raised to look at her and the thick thigh between your legs. You shivered when you felt her calloused fingers passing through your arm under your coat and going up to your neck, caressing the side and wrapping around your throat, giving a light squeeze as you liked and making you let out a whine. Sevika kept those gray eyes on yours, attentive to your every reaction, wandering over your face as if memorizing what she had forgotten, and pressed her forehead to yours, closing her eyes while still feeling your warmth and your rapid breathing.

She opened her eyes and you looked at her, alternating between the gray of her eyes and the dark of her lipstick; You licked your mouth and swallowed, looking up again, knowing that Sevika didn't kiss, never. She smiled, shaking her head slightly and leaned in more, joining your mouths in a seal, you sighed in surprise and she slid her tongue into your mouth while her hand fit the contour of your face.

You remained unresponsive for a few seconds, very surprised that the woman who the first time you spent the night together pushed you away saying she didn't kiss; it was very intimate and was the door to catching feelings. Sevika squeezed your face, bringing you to reality and you kissed her back, following her tongue with yours while your hands went up to her neck and held her against you, moving your mouth in the rhythm she wanted.

Sevika never kissed for fear of falling in love, and now you understand why. That woman's kiss was a killer. You pulled her against you, almost lying against the wall as you pressed yourself against her and returned the kiss with the same intensity, feeling her explore your mouth, sucking your tongue and biting your lower lip, sliding her tongue back into yours as she squeezed you by the back of your neck, and pressed your mouths tightly; savoring your taste and devouring your moans and sighs as her thigh pressed and moved between your legs.

You sighed against her mouth, moaning when you felt her bite your bottom lip and kiss you again, pulling you more and more against her. You were out of breath, your brain going fuzzy, body begging for oxygen as you clung to her as if your life depended on her and that fucking amazing kiss; you felt fucking amazing kissing that woman, trapped in her heat. You didn't want it to end.

Sevika tugged at your bottom lip one last time and moaned as she pulled away from you, pressing her forehead to yours. You half-opened your eyes, seeing the smudged lipstick and the swollen lips wet with your saliva, you swallowed and filled your lungs with air, pushing your forehead against hers, giving her lips a light seal, feeling her reciprocate.

“Sevika…” You pushed your head against the wall, giving more space for Sevika to mark your neck with kisses and bites while her large, calloused hand squeezed the skin of your belly.

She kissed down to your chest, kissing the exposed skin of your breasts, giving light bites and hickeys as you liked. You were shaking from her touches, your trembling hands squeezing her shoulders and your legs shaking from the caress in your intimacy. You looked at her still marking your chest, the dim orange light in the alley illuminating half of her face, her gray eyes shining with desire, her roguish smile as her mouth was attached to your skin.

You placed a hand on her cheek, caressing the warm brown skin, watching her lean into the touch and close her eyes. Suddenly, you were back in that room at the back of the brothel, feeling Sevika's touches and heat, those gray eyes devouring you... And suddenly, she wasn't gone, your Sevika was there.

“Sev… please…” You moaned when you felt her hand on your thigh, reaching up your skirt. She stood straight, her hand cupping your face and her gray eyes glued to yours. You squeezed her face, running your thumb over her lips, still staring back at her, begging for her like before.

Sevika sealed your lips once again, her hand stuck to the back of your neck and some strands before leaving the alley pulling you with her.

You barely noticed when you arrived at a small apartment, probably hers, too focused on the sensations of her mouth on your neck and shoulder as soon as your coat hit the floor. “Ah…Sev…Ngh!” You moaned softly, feeling the strap of your top slide down your arms and her mouth moving down to your left breast. Her left hand was missing, but she managed to pay attention to your breasts, leaving them full of teeth marks, saliva, and lipstick.

“Damn… I missed this so much…” She whispered in your ear, feeling one of your breasts and pulling the areola, making you hang your head and whimper, closing your legs around her knee.

You took off your top, throwing it on the floor as you were guided to the bedroom between kisses and sighs, Sevika's big, warm hand squeezing and scratching your back and waist. You fell onto the mattress with a groan, your hands supported you, and spread your legs for her to settle in the middle.

“Sev, I missed you so much, sev…” You said, rubbing your face against her hand and taking your hands to her tight waist, entering her short blouse and feeling the warm and firm skin on your fingers, moving your fingers up to her breasts. Sevika sighed heavily into your mouth, closing her eyes, feeling your nails playing with her breasts and kissing you with hunger and desire, teeth and saliva.

You undid the zipper on her cape and blouse, throwing the pieces away and enjoyed that firm and warm brown skin that you loved so much, running your hands over her full and soft breasts, feeling her shiver with your touches and letting out a groan when you took your wet lips in the middle of her breasts, her hand getting caught in the middle of your strands and pulling them, forcing you to face her.

“Tonight is not about me, girl. It’s about you and how I want to fuck you like I used to.” You shuddered and smiled openly, your eyes disappearing into a line, your expression dissolving into pleasure as you imagined that woman fucking you willingly like before. “Take off your skirt and open your legs.”

Sevika got off of you, and you slid the piece along with your panties away from your body, lying back on your elbows and opening your legs, showing your already wet pussy to the woman's hungry eyes.

You shuddered as you felt Sevika's long fingers slide from your mouth to your neck, breasts, stomach, groin and thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing you with her thumb very close to your pussy. You stared at the woman, begging her to touch you, but she just smirked and continued to tease you.

“Sev-Ngh!” You moaned, shuddering and curled your fingers as you felt her fingers slipping into your folds, one finger entering and spreading your liquid to the nerve. “So wet for me, babygirl.”

You pushed your waist against her fingers, sliding them into your pussy and smearing them. Sevika took her fingers out of you and brought them to her mouth, tasting and cleaning them, humming when she tasted you. “Fucking delicious … My girl.”

You moaned loudly, keeping your eyes open and focused on Sevika enjoying your taste and bending down on the edge of the bed, approaching your waist and distributing wet kisses on your skin, caressing down to your pussy and placing a light kiss on your clitoris, smiling against you as she felt you shiver.

Sevika distributed kisses over your pussy, running her tongue lightly over your folds and sucking the liquid that dripped more with the woman's caresses. You gasped, lifting your back off the bed when you felt her flatt tongue lick from bottom to top and suck hard on your clit, opening your folds with her fingers and mouthing your pussy, licking and sucking every little bit, rubbing her nose on your nerve, repeating the movement slowly until you bring your hands to her hair, pressing her against you.

You rubbed yourself against Sevika's face buried between your legs, your fingers tightly stuck in the dark strands as she sucked you eagerly, her nose brushing your clitoris as she stuck her tongue inside you and slid it into your folds, returning to sticking her tongue in you and gulping down your liquids in loud, needy noises.

Only Sevika could have you rolling your eyes, moaning loudly, your back arched, your fingers curled, and your body trembling, completely in ecstasy with pleasure. You just wanted her to give you pleasure and have you like that; she was perfect for you, and you were perfect for her.

“Sev… I’m close…” You warned, but she knew just by the way you trembled and your pussy squeezed her tongue. She knew you like the back of her hand. “Ngh! Sevi…”

She pulled away from you, her face glistening with your liquid, her pupils dilated and the gray of her eyes shining clear with desire. You were breathing heavily, your body sprawled out on the bed, your teary eyes shining with desire for that woman.

“Come get what you want, girl.” You crawled towards her, lowering yourself until you pressed your lips against the skin of her stomach, your hands pressing her sides as you kissed down the trail of hair and unzipped her pants with your teeth, sliding the garment and her panties down her toned legs in a hurry.

Sevika was looking at you from above, seeing your beautiful red face rubbing against her thigh and moving up to her wet pussy, placing a light kiss on her hairy crotch. Her hand tugged at your strands before you stuck out your tongue and licked her, pushing you onto the bed and settling between your legs; your left leg raised, locked around her waist while your right leg was on top of her left, like you guys did when Sevika needed relief, and feel all of you.

You held her by the waist, your nails scratching the flesh, sometimes going down to her ass and thighs, rolling your hips against hers as she pressed and rubbed your pussies at a fast pace, and squeezed your neck, swallowing your moans and sighs.

You were close to cumming, feeling her pussy rub deliciously against yours, your liquids making the movement very wet, obscene and pleasurable, the wet noise of your pussies along with the moans and sighs of the two of you, the smell of sweat and sex impregnated in the stuffy room.

You increased the pace of your waist, feeling your clit bump against hers at the right angle, making both of you moan loudly, your toes curling as you pulled her down, kissing her with need and feeling; You were very much in love with that woman.

Sevika laid on you, still keeping the movement and pressed your face, kissing you back with need, affection, and feelings. “Sevi… I’m going to-Ngh! Ah…ah!”

"That's right. Be a good girl and cum for me.” Sevika whispered against your mouth, hand sliding to your breast and squeezing the nipple, feeling you gasp and shudder as you came in her, your nails scratching her broad back. “That's it. My good girl…” Sevika gave you a peck on your lips and stood straight again, the rhythm of her waist accelerated and out of step, also cumming and squeezing you.

She laid on top of you, you intertwined your legs with hers, and hugged her, feeling her heat and weight. You two remained silent, normalizing your breathing and calming down from the orgasm. You became very aware of what was happening and feared that everything would happen again when she moved, freeing herself from your embrace.

You felt your heart sink, your eyes burning, and your breath catching in your throat as you brought your hands to her body. “Sevika, please don’t go.” Your voice was choked, and you would easily cry. Sevika held your hand, and you intertwined your fingers, reaching up with your other hand and kissing her hand. "Please."

Sevika closed her eyes and sighed heavily, squeezing your hand back and pulling you towards her body, resting her chin on the top of your head, feeling the hot tears running down your face. “I’m not going anywhere, girl.”

“I’m sorry about before…” The words hung in the air, and you hugged her, clinging to her warmth and crying more. Her hand stroked your hair as she told you she wasn't going anywhere. “Let’s be together…” You lifted your head, nodding quickly in agreement, and felt her lips on your forehead. “My girl.”

@iwashie 2024 please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth I - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 

Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.” 

Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking him up on his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel. 

Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his love affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand. 

When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard. 

A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “A bargain, Shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “A copper for your eyes.”

“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming. 

This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity. 

The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in. The guard gave him a once over, his eyes stopping on the dagger sheathed on his thigh. 

“No weapons allowed, Shadowsinger,” the guard ordered. “Especially around the girls.”

Azriel wordlessly unsheathed Truth-teller and let his shadows take it away. He didn’t tell the guard that it was pointless, that he could summon it back at any time regardless of whatever wards they had set up around here—his shadows didn’t abide by the typical rules of magic. But the guard didn’t need to know that. 

The guard held out a gloved hand. “The entrance fee.”

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. He set it in the guard’s palm without question. 

The guard gave him a dip of the head, satisfied, before gesturing for him to continue on. Azriel strided down the dim hallway. He could already smell various aphrodisiacs and drugs amongst the intoxicating scent of arousal in the air. It spurred him on, kept his feet moving on the dark red carpet, not allowing him the chance to second guess his decision to come here. 

He wasn’t sure what magic was at play, or if they specifically scented the hallway to further get their clients in the mood, but something was tugging him forward. 

He finally made it to the other end of the hallway, where a black door was awaiting him. He opened it slowly, cautiously and when no threat appeared, stepped through the threshold. The door opened up into a large foyer of sorts with a large candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling. 

Straight ahead was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. On both sides of the foyer were large double doors with masked guards standing in front of them, swords strapped to their backs.

Waiting for him in the center of the room was an older, High Fae female with generous curves, dressed decadently. A polite smile graced her pretty but aging face as she took him in. 

“Shadowsinger,” she greeted with a dip of the head, her hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome to The Labyrinth. My name is Lydia. I will be your point of contact during your time here. Please follow me, I will show you to the girls so you may make your selection.” 

This wasn’t the first time Azriel had visited a pleasure house. Gods, when they were younger, him, Rhysand and Cassian had gone to some together. Had even taken the same girl once. But this felt…different. The atmosphere was soft, sensual—not rowdy like the other brothels he had been to. 

He followed Lydia into the first set of double doors, which led down another long corridor with more doors lining the wall, all numbered. Until they reached the end where another set of double doors waited. As soon as Lydia pushed them open and gestured for him to continue, soft music crept through the air.

Azriel walked into a heavily perfumed room, dimly lit much like everywhere else in this place. Dark red, velvet settees and cushions lined the walls and floors. Silks hanging from the ceilings gave each space a bit of privacy. A bar was on the opposite wall, fully stocked with various alcohols. Males and females, alike, were milling about the room in various states of undress, some paired up on the couches and chairs. 

At the front of the room was a wall made entirely of glass that overlooked a courtyard. Hanging plants and flowered vines decorated the space. A large fountain bubbled in the middle of it. Girls in lingerie and silk robes sat on the stone benches and cushions on the floor, lingered near the fountain, danced to the soft music in corners of the courtyard—all giggling and chattering with each other.

“These are the girls in The Labyrinth,” Lydia explained. “If you would like to see our selection of males, let me know.” 

His eyes wandered over the girls, all so beautiful and unique. Every single type of fae was here—from nymphs to firelings to High Fae. But his gaze was drawn towards a lone figure in one of the second story alcoves. 

His breath was sucked from his lungs the minute his eyes fell on her. She was…she was so beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen in his five hundred years of living. She was dressed in a light pink lingerie set, a sheer robe hanging over it with white fur trims. She was alone, resting an elbow on the stone railing with her chin plopped in her hand as she gazed out into the carved mountainside within Hewn City. 

He couldn’t rip his eyes away from her. 

“Are any of them suited to your tastes, Shadowsinger?” Lydia questioned from beside him, knocking him out of whatever spell he had been put under. 

“Her,” he answered, his voice a mere whisper, as he dipped his head towards the female he couldn’t help but stare at. 

Lydia murmured something to one of the masked servants walking around with trays of champagne flutes. A moment later, one returned and handed the female a slip of paper. She clicked her tongue at whatever she read. 

“Apologies, Shadowsinger,” she said, “But it looks like she’s already been chosen for tonight. Do any—”

“By who?” Azriel growled before he even realized, his shadows whirling around him. Lydia looked up at him with a stern look that accentuated all the fine lines on her face. 

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. Azriel gave her a sheepish look, not knowing what had come over him. “It looks like any of the other girls are still up for the taking if you’d like to choose another?” 

But Azriel couldn’t stop staring at the girl in the pink. Couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. None of the other girls caught his attention. He had come here looking for a quick, no strings attached, fuck but that desire, that need—it was like it had been sucked right out of him. 

“I…” he trailed off, suddenly reeling back into his body. Lydia was staring up at him expectedly but he took a step away. “N-no. I’m sorry. I should…I should go.” 

Not a second later, his shadows swirled around him, whisking him away. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel wasn’t sure what drew him back to The Labyrinth the next night. Or the night after. Each time he came, he asked for that girl in pink, and each time, he was told she had already been booked for the night. It would’ve been easy to accompany Mor to Rita’s and find a plethora of females that would fuck him for free. But none of them would’ve been her. 

He wasn’t even sure why he was becoming so obsessed with a girl he’d never even talked to. Obsessed enough to travel to Hewn City, pay the copious entrance fee, just to leave when he was told she was still not available. 

But here he was. 

Again. 

Standing at the doors to The Labyrinth. 

It had become such a reoccurrence that Lydia would merely shake her head no at the sight of him, already knowing what he was there for. He was sure tonight would go more or less the same. But he was surprised when he caught sight of Lydia standing in the large, intricate foyer and she shook her head yes. 

“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, “I admire your persistence. It seems it is your lucky day. The girl you’ve been waiting for is available. Please, continue on up the stairs and into The Labyrinth. She will be waiting for you behind the ninth door.” 

Azriel gave her a dip of the head before striding past her to the staircase. His shadows were swarming him—excited about something. He tuned them out, pushing open the black doors waiting for him at the top of the stairs. 

He paused for a second, feeling like he had suddenly been transported somewhere else. Instead of one long hallway like he’d been expecting, the doors opened to a maze of large pillars, multiple pathways lit by candles placed on the floor. 

He sent his shadows forward to scout the place and locate the ninth door that Lydia had mentioned. He followed their trail which led him to a red door with a number nine painted on it in a darker shade of red that looked suspiciously like blood. 

He let out the breath he had been holding as he wrapped his scarred fingers around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. 

Slow, sultry music met his ears and the scent of pomegranates and cardamom flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, beckoning him forward. He softly shut the door behind him before he completely paused in his tracks as he turned to face the room. 

There, standing with her back to him, was the girl who had been utterly consuming his mind since he had first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a light pink nightgown that laced down her lower back. She was bent forward slightly, lighting a candle on a coffee table set up in front of a pair of red velvet couches. 

His eyes trailed over the room for a second, trying to gather his bearings. It was a large room, large enough to have a sitting area separate from the four-poster bed covered in silk and textured fabrics. Everything fit the same color scheme as the other rooms he’d been in, red and black. Lit only by candles, the soft lighting only added to the sultry atmosphere. 

Some smoke lingered in the air, making everything a bit more hazy. He recognized the scent as a popular aphrodisiac often used during parties with high nobility. His shadows seemed lulled by the music, drifting around him lazily as he stood in place. 

He stood frozen as she finally turned around and met his gaze. He had thought her beautiful that day he had seen her up on the balcony, but this close, well… beautiful was not strong enough of a word. She looked crafted for the Gods, a being not meant to walk alongside man. His breath was sucked right out of his lungs again, his eyes widened as his shadows reacted by lowering themselves onto the ground, leaving him bare. 

“There you are,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk and honey. “I’ve heard you’ve been waiting for me.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the motion. He watched her eyes track it, watched how her smirk slipped into a soft smile instead. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but it was like no thoughts existed in his head except for an image of her. 

“A bit shy, are you?” She teased after he failed to speak, walking towards him and holding out a hand with well manicured nails. “That’s okay, my love, let me take care of you.” 

She grasped his hand in her much smaller one, not even flinching when her skin met contact with his brutal scars. He let her guide him to the couch and push him to sit, entranced by her very presence. She moved to the bar cart behind him, running a delicate hand over his shoulders as she did, before pouring two glasses of whiskey. 

She meandered back over to him, plopping on the couch next to him before handing him one of the glasses. She clinked her glass against his. “For the nerves, my love.”

Azriel wanted to tell her that he wasn’t nervous, but that would be a lie. He had no idea why he had been reduced to the shy teenage boy he had been in his youth but he couldn’t shake himself from the feeling. Her presence was overwhelming, intimidating. Like she somehow held his entire being in the palm of her hands. 

“Thank you,” he grunted out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before downing his glass of whiskey in one go. She followed his lead, her smoky eyes never leaving his as she swallowed her whiskey. Beneath the exaggerated desire he found in them was a more calculating look, like she was trying to figure him out. 

A bit of the whiskey slipped out of the side of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck to the crevice between her breasts. Azriel’s gaze followed it, his cock tightening in his pants as he wished to lick it off her gleaming skin. 

“Oops,” she giggled, swiping it up with a finger and sucking it into her mouth. “Would you like another glass?” 

He shook his head. He didn’t want to be drunk for this. He wanted to savor every second of his time with her, the girl who had been plaguing his thoughts night and day. 

“You seem tense, Shadowsinger,” she purred with a pout, making his eyes dip to her full, red painted lips. “I can fix that.” 

She reached forward and ran a slender hand up his chest and he nearly moaned at the feeling of her touching him. His hand latched onto hers, stopping it in its tracks. 

“What’s your name?” Azriel asked, finally speaking. He needed to know. Needed to taste the way it felt to say it on his tongue as much as he needed to taste her. 

“Serenity,” she replied with a coy smile. “But you can call me anything you like, my love.” 

His eyes searched hers. “That’s not your real name, is it?” 

“Of course not, darling,” she giggled. She leaned towards him, close enough that her breath fluttered over his ear. His cock twitched in his pants, his skin heated. “I think the real question is, what would you like me to call you, Shadowsinger?”

“Azriel,” he breathed out. “Just…just Azriel.” 

“Azriel,” she repeated in that voice of silk and honey. 

His eyes darted down to her lips again. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how turned on he felt. Was it the aphrodisiacs in the room? Or perhaps the whiskey had hit just right? He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed to have her. 

Azriel let go of her hand, letting her continue her travel up his chest until she grabbed the empty glass in his hand and set it down on the table in front of them. She made eye contact with him again, slowly moving to straddle him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. He bit back a groan as her weight fell on his hardening member.

“What is it you’re here for, Azriel?”

His brain couldn’t focus with her in his lap. Her eyes were so mesmerizing, her scent one he could get high off. His hands found her waist, the silk fabric of her nightgown so smooth against his rough skin. 

“You,” he whispered, honestly. Because that was the truth. He had seen her and knew he needed to have her. 

“I’m yours, Azriel,” she giggled. “Any way you want me.” 

If he were a better male, perhaps now would be the time he realized this might be a mistake. But he wasn’t a better male. He couldn’t be. Not when her body was pressed against his, not when she looked so beautiful staring up at him with her large, expressive eyes, and certainly not when his body was singing for her—hungering for her like she was the only sustenance he needed. 

So Azriel surged forward and kissed her. 

Lightning exploded, skittering over his skin, the moment his lips touched hers. He groaned at the feeling of their softness. She let out a small sigh as she kissed him back, melting in his lap, pressing herself closer to him. 

Azriel slid a hand up her exposed back until he grasped her by the back of the neck and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss, finally taking control of the situation. His cock hardened painfully as she spread her legs further, allowing her heat to rub against him. 

He kissed her like a starved male, licking along her bottom lip, compelling her to part her lips for him. She let him consume her, let him slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her fully. 

So sweet. 

So divine. 

Azriel broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air. The scent of her arousal had his eyes rolling back in his head. Still holding her by the back of the neck, he twisted her head to the side and pressed his lips just below her ear before trailing down her jaw and to her delicate neck. 

She moaned, squirming in his lap and rubbing against his hard length, only spurring him on more. His other hand started working on unlacing her nightgown. His fingers fumbled over the ribbon, until finally, it came undone and fell, pooling at her waist. 

Azriel pulled back to look at her, now bare before him from the waist up. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her eyes dilated and full of lust, her lips swollen. The perfect image of desire. 

“So beautiful,” he growled, before leaning forward and latching his mouth around her right nipple. She gasped, arching into his mouth as her hands fisted his hair. 

“Azriel,” she whimpered, pushing her hips down against his bulge. He growled again, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. 

His lips made a path back up to hers, taking her breasts in his palms as he kissed her deeply. She grinded down on his cock again, pulling a whine from the back of his throat that had her smiling against his lips. 

He wanted to take his time with her, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not when the need to be in her was causing him to strain against his pants to the point of pain. 

Azriel stood, lifting her up with him with an arm under her ass and the other wrapped around her. He let his shadows swarm them, stepping out right in front of the bed. She was breathless as he dropped her onto the soft pillows and sheets, her hair fanning around her head like a halo. 

An Angel. 

That’s what she was. 

A godsdamn Angel. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, running them down her body as he pulled her nightgown all the way off, leaving her entirely bare before her. She moved to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt but he lightly grasped her throat in his hand and pushed her back down.

“How do you want me, Azriel?” She hummed, seductively, wrapping her hands around his wrist.

Azriel leaned down, running his nose along the column of her throat until his mouth was beside her ear. 

“First, I want you coming on my fingers,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire. “Then my tongue. And then my cock. Do you understand?”

She swallowed audibly, nodding her head. 

“Words, angel,” he smirked. “Use your words.” 

“Yes, Azriel, I understand,” she whimpered, the scent of her arousal peaking. 

He inhaled deeply before pulling away and dropping to his knees before her. She sat up on her elbows, letting out a small cry as he hooked his arms around her thighs and yanked her towards the end of the bed. 

Her sex was glistening with her want and Azriel groaned at the sight, unlacing his pants with one hand to relieve some pressure. He watched her as he dipped forward and ran his tongue up her slit, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of her. 

She tossed her head back with a moan, spreading her legs wider for him. Azriel didn’t waste any time. He sucked and licked at her clit with a hunger he’d never felt before, his cock twitching every time he drew out a moan or cry from her lips. 

True to his word, his finger swirled around her entrance, causing her hips to thrust closer and closer. He continued his ministrations as he slid a single finger inside of her, cursing as he felt how tight she was wrapped around him. 

“Azriel,” she cried out as he added a second finger before slowly thrusting in and out of her. “Fuck.” 

He continued to suck that spot that had her crying out, pure waves of euphoria crashing through her body. His fingers began to thrust inside of her faster and faster as her moans became more frequent.

“That’s it, angel,” he praised as she rutted against his fingers. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.” 

She whimpered, her movements frenzied as he latched his mouth back on her clit, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other fisted the sheets and she squirmed in pleasure until he pushed her over the edge. 

“Az…Azriel,” she cried, arching her back as flames licked their way through her body. “I’m gonna—”

Azriel didn’t stop, palming himself with his free hand as she orgasmed, pulsating around his fingers with a loud moan. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue just in time to feel the aftershock ripple through her. 

She tried to pull his head away, but he didn’t relent. He needed her on his tongue, needed to fulfill the hunger inside of him. It wasn’t long before he had her screaming through her second orgasm, lapping at the wetness pooling between her thighs. Azriel didn’t let up as he rode out her orgasm with his tongue, not until her body was writhing in pleasure and she was begging him to stop. 

He stood, sticking one of the fingers covered in her juices into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned. “Gods, you taste so good.” 

He left her panting on the bed as he made quick work of ripping his clothes off. His eyes were black with lust, his shadows spilling all around him in his craze. Gods, he needed her so bad. Every piece of her. 

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her and crashing his lips against hers. His tongue was still claiming her mouth as her hands roamed the muscles of his chest, sliding down to his cock. He groaned into her mouth as she ran her hand up and down his shaft. 

“Please,” she begged. 

“Please what, angel?” He nipped at her bottom lip. “What is it you want?” 

“Please fuck me, Azriel,” she whined. 

The noise that came out of his throat at her words was one he’d never made before. He sat back on his haunches, replacing her hand with his as he guided himself towards her entrance, rubbing up and down against the wetness that was waiting for him. 

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he slid himself inside of her slowly. She moaned as Azriel let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was all the way in her when they both finally released a breath.

“Fuck,” he grunted, falling forward and peppering kisses along her throat. “You feel so good.”

She whimpered at his praise and felt him smirk against her neck before he started to finally move, pulling himself all the way out her before thrusting back in, faster this time. She cried out as he slammed into her.

Azriel set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again. His shadows seeped from him until nearly every crevice of the room was taken over by his darkness. 

Her nails raked down his back, between his wings as she let him take her. He claimed her mouth again, passionately swallowing each moan he pulled from her. Her hips began to meet his with each thrust, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of her. 

“Gods, Azriel,” she cried, squeezing around him as he hit that sweet spot inside her. 

“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?” he cooed. 

“Yes,” she mewled. “Yes, gods, yes.” 

“Good girl,” he growled, nipping at her throat with his canines. 

His words pushed her over the edge into the hot bliss of pleasure. She screamed his name as the lightning shot through her, her core pulsating with each strike.

“Fuck,” Azriel groaned. He rode out her orgasm and then his thrusts became harder, faster but sloppy with no rhythm as his own release slid up on him.

His tongue swirled around the base of her neck before an utterly feral growl ripped through him. And then he bit down on that spot. His canines ripped through the skin, sinking down into her flesh as he came, thrusting once, twice and one final time—burying himself in her. 

They both panted in silence for a moment, coming down from their highs before Azriel slowly slipped out of her with a small whimper. He pulled away from her and she smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and satisfaction. 

And then something happened. Something he never thought would. Something he had only dreamed about but never wished for because he had thought it a waste of breath. 

A golden string of light unwound itself and shot across the darkness, all the way to the beautiful girl before him. 

The mating bond snapped. 

His mating bond.

Azriel let out a choked noise, rising fully. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she sat up. 

Fuck, his mate…

She was his mate.

His godsdamn mate. 

This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after he had just paid her to have sex with him. Not after he had come here for a shameless fuck. She’d never want him now. Why would she? 

He hastily began picking up his discarded clothes and dressing himself. She did the same in her confusion, slipping her nightgown back on as she frowned at him. 

“What happened?” Her voice was meek as she hugged an arm around herself, looking at him. “Have I…have I done something wrong?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, not looking her in the eyes. Gods, she would hate him if he told her now. She would not want anything to do with him. “No, I’m sorry. I-I need to go.” 

“But you paid for the whole night,” she said, perplexed with a hint of insecurity. “Please, if I wasn’t good…if you didn’t enjoy it…I can do better, I swear it.” 

He finally looked at her, at his mate. His heart sank in his chest at her words. Fuck, he was making this worse. He couldn’t stand the sight of her looking at him like she’d done something wrong. She was perfect. She had been perfect. It was him who fucked up.

“No, no, don’t. It’s not you," Azriel tried to reassure her. “I…it’s me. I need to go. I’m so sorry.” 

“At least let me get you your money back,” she said, rubbing her arm. He felt sick to his stomach.

“No! No, please keep it,” he murmured, buttoning up his shirt as fast as he could. “I’m…I’m so sorry. This was a mistake.”

And then he disappeared in his shadows, her confused and hurt face the last thing he saw. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: so obvious this was entirely from Az's perspective but it will be reader y/n just in case it wasn't super obvious! Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :((

(also, now that the whole chapters out, if this isn't what you thought you were signing up for, no hard feelings if you asked to be removed from the taglist)

taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl @daardyrnitta

[slimybeth69]

Thirst

Marcus Acacius X lady reader (no descriptions, you're a virgin though)

Summary: Your freedom had a price and Marcus Acacius was willing to pay for it... but you also had to do something for him.

Chapter 1 of 10: Warming Up Next Chapter

Rating: EXPLICIT -- Shameless smut with a little plot

a/n: NO SPOILERS to the new movie. This is cross-posted from my AO3 account

WARNINGS: dubious consent, ownership, loss of virginity, mutual mast., exhibitionism, voyeurism. Mentions of being a whore.

You had lived in a brothel before this. Had to share a bed with a woman you did not like. You didn’t even get to have sex in that brothel because you were a virgin and no one could afford it. Just your hands and mouth. Your company if they couldn’t afford your pleasure. The General could afford you though and the second you told him you were a virgin you left the brothel with him.

General Marcus Acacius still hasn’t had sex with you. He just wants you to look at him. You roll your eyes at the thought. Just watch. He didn’t even let you touch. It had been two long months and you had seen him only a dozen times. More in the beginning and now less and less. Strange. Paid all this money and won't even touch you or let you touch him. 

“Your day?” His voice is deep and smooth and it’s almost like it ruminates in your chest for a moment after he is done speaking. You try to hide your giddy excitement as he comes from the doorway that leads to the balcony you’ve been sitting on.

“Fine.” It’s short and curt and you act like you are tired of being alone with only your handmaids to talk to. He sighs from behind you. This is what happens every time and you’re over it. “Would you like to just get it over with?” You stand from your seat and he’s wearing a white and gold tunic. You’ve never seen him in it before and his bronzed thighs contrast against it so well. You do not let his beautiful skin distract you as you slip past him into the room. You unclasp the shoulder straps of your dress and let it fall to your waist. You buzz with excitement. 

You’re exposed from the waist up when you turn to look back at him. His strong hand is already wrapped around himself underneath the tunic. He walks to you, his fist never leaves or stops stroking himself as he makes his way to his chair. It’s already got the small glass bottle of oil sitting on the table beside it. Waiting. You use it sometimes to rub into his muscular shoulders after he has a long day.

Mostly it’s poured into his palm like he’s doing right now. When he leans back in his chair, his throbbing erection is already pushing the lower half of his tunic up, exposing himself to you. He is thick, already red with excitement and almost intimidatingly big. He could fit both fists on it. You watched him do it once with your bottom lip bitten between your teeth. He coats his cock in the oil, massaging it into his already smooth skin. You know he is smooth. You can see how smooth he is from here. Bronzed and smooth and strong. It’s evident as you watch him spread his legs wider so you can see his balls. One hand cups them gently, massaging them. 

“Shit.” Marcus hisses as he squeezes his cock at the base gently as he starts to stroke. You watch, your gaze dancing between his eyes and mouth, down to his hand thrusting up and down on himself. He twists his hand around the shaft while he does it. It makes somewhere deep inside you ache. You long to go over and climb into his lap. Sink yourself down into his lap until you are flush with him. 

“Does it feel good?” You ask mindlessly, watching as the tip of him begins drooling precum from his seam. You lick your bottom lip because you want to know what he tastes like. You want to show him what you can do. 

“Yes.” He moans softly and when you look back up to his face he’s staring at you. You reach up and pinch one of your nipples between your thumb and forefinger and twist it gently. Then you tug. You let out a breathless moan and he drops his eyes to your hand. He bucks his hips forward and sighs. “Gorgeous.” He breathes it to you as he strokes his cock slowly. You’ve never really spoken to each other during so you keep going, to see what happens. 

“Do you want to see my cunt?” You whisper and bat your eyelashes up in him with false innocence. His breath catches in his throat when you say it. It makes you smirk. He nods silently as his eyes fall to your middle. You pull the lower half of your dress up and pool it at your waist and now you have a bunch of fabric all pulled up around your middle. Marcus’ eyes dart between your pussy and your tits that you're still teasing and pulling at with your fingers. 

His staggered breath is rising and falling in his chest and his fist is moving with more speed. 

“Fuck.” Marcus groans quietly. The head of his cock is almost purple and his precum is now leaking down the tip of him. You lick your lips again because he does look very handsome there, stroking himself. Little beads of sweat forming on his brow as he starts to pant softly.  You run your hand down the length of your body for him, you never do this. Usually you just stand there because the first time you tried to touch him and he said no. Gave you no further instruction so you stood here after that. That white tunic and this soft bronze skin over those thighs… you dunno. Very handsome. It’s making you drenched 

“You could come touch me right here.” You purr to him quietly.

The muscles in his thighs flex when you slip two fingers into your folds. You don’t even rub, you just show him that you can in fact be touched and will not combust into flames. Marcus could do more than just look at you while he touches himself. You do let your mouth part and your jaw drop down slightly in feign pleasure– letting him know what you look like when you feel good. Marcus’ eyes flash between your face and the fingers pushed into your velvet. 

“Gods.” He sighs as his calloused and battle-scarred hand moves up and down on himself quickly. 

“Imagine yourself buried inside me. For the first time.” You coo to him as your fingers start to encircle your bundle of nerves that sit nestled at the top of your slit. “The first man to ever me inside me… the first man to ever fill me with his—”

“Fuuck. My G-Gods.” Marcus moans loudly as he brings himself to climax. He finishes all over the front of his nice, white and gold tunic. Splatters it with white ropes of his sticky seed. Several thick ropes of it. 

Your hand drops from between your legs and you snap your dress back up over your shoulders. You sit back in your chair on the balcony and sip your wine like you are bored. Marcus can leave now. He doesn’t do anything else for you other than this thrilling encounter every couple days. Thrilling while it happens but then he leaves. 

He clears his throat from the doorway. You ignore him. Does he think you are one of his soldiers? No. You are a woman and women deserve more than just being stared at. You should be ravaged and you haven’t been so you’re frustrated. Only able to give yourself pleasure after he leaves. To ease the monotony of it all you’ve started pleasuring yourself out here on the balcony where anyone could see if they just looked up. 

You do not tell him this. 

Marcus clears his throat again.

“What?” You have obvious annoyance in your tone. “If you’d like to speak to me you can come out here. I am done doing things for you today. Including getting off this chair again.” You snap angrily. 

Marcus approaches from behind you and now he’s sitting beside you on a chair that looks exactly the same as the one you are in. He is in a different tunic now. A plain brown one and now he looks terrible and horrible to you again. Barely attractive. Maybe he’s still a little handsome. 

“Did you enjoy yourself this time?” Marcus sounds curious. 

“Sure.” You mutter. You don’t catch his eyes that are obviously staring at you. 

“I thought you were warming up this evening. Then you do this?” He sounds slightly disappointed. You roll your eyes and huff softly. 

“You keep me up here. Only let me go out early in the mornings when not one or very few people are out—” You like this but you won’t let him know that. “You don’t come see me everyday like you said you would. You do not touch me. Just want to watch, which is so weird! I thought you took me from that brothel so that you could deflower me. Do the thing that everyone loves to do so much. No, you just want to tease me with your beautiful cock every four to seven days.” You cross your arms over your chest and huff one more time for good measure. 

Marcus chuckles at you, still staring. You can see him boring holes into the side of your head out of the corner of your eye. He is smiling but still staring. 

“Why is that funny?” You snap, finally turning to look at him now. Marcus Acacius is quite handsome with his messy mop of dark, loose curls. Thick dark eyebrows and facial hair to match. Only on his cheeks is it lighter, graying. Strong features. The weight he held, he carried it nicely. Filled his cheeks out softly and thigh muscles for days. Strong arms and shoulders. 

“I paid because you are beautiful. I’ll deflower you. Soon. When you’re ready.” His voice is quite nice too. He leans forward and presses his lips against yours gently. He’s never kissed you before. It’s so nice and he smells like the scented oil he spread around his cock earlier. Before you can really react to the kiss he pulls away slightly and hovers above you. “I’ll deflower you when you really like me. Not just because I paid.” Then he pecks your lips again. You're in awe! What does that mean!? You stand and try to follow him. He is too fast. He slips out of the door and locks it behind him. 

You hmph and stomp your foot angrily. 

Like him? How could you ever— Oh.  

There is the nicest most beautiful bouquet of flowers on the table that had not been there before you did your little tease for him. They are gorgeous. All different shades of white and pink and reds. It’s the biggest bouquet of flowers you have ever seen. Alongside it– a fresh unopened jug of wine. And a note. 

Save the wine for us.

Us? Does he expect you to leave this jug of delicious wine unopened until you see him again? In four to seven days? You love wine. It’s the only thing that brings you joy. Seeing his cock has been pretty joyful lately. Makes you smile when he comes. You normally hate when men come. 

 Ugh. Doesn’t fuck you. Gives you wine but tells you not to drink it. You drop the note on the table and turn… on the bed is a new dress. A nice one. White and gold like his tunic before he mucked it with his release. You smirk at the memory from less than ten minutes ago. 

What is he up to? He is not an unkind man, very polite and respectful. One of the reasons you haven’t tried to escape. He is very sweet to you. Looking at you very fondly. You’re just a brat because you thought you’d no longer be a virgin at this point. You sigh heavily and sit on the soft bed next to the dress and run your fingers along the gold embellishments. 

You want to get fucked wearing this tunic. 

Hours go by. It is late into the evening. You might be wearing your new dress, sitting on the balcony drinking the jug of wine you already had. Not the new one. You might have tried to open the new one but you could not remove the Gods forsaken cork. Your head is buzzing in the best way. The streets are alive with people and in your slightly intoxicated state you imagine yourself down there with them. You are glad you’re not down there. You grew up in the countryside, the large city of Rome scares you. 

You lie to Marcus Acacius and say you are locked away and would like to go down there. No. You do not wish for that. You feel safe up here on your balcony with your books and wine and food. New dresses now too, apparently. 

“Do you like your gifts?” Marcus’ voice drifts through the air. He sounds happy to be here. Like he might have a smile on his face.

“I did. Thank you.” You are not short or cold. You turn your head and smile at him over your shoulder. He is already smiling softly back at you– his gaze floats down your face and neck and across your new dress. He then leans against the door frame. “Admittedly I wasn’t going to wait for you to drink the wine… I just could not get it open.” You smirk now and look up at him through your lashes. 

“I tightened it.” Marcus smirks back at you. He pushes himself off the door frame, turns and grabs the jug of wine. When he sits down, he slides his chair closer to yours and pops the cork right out of the jug. You tried several times over the hours after he left. You roll your eyes as he pours you a fresh goblet and then he pours one for himself. 

The General never shares wine with you on the balcony. 

“How do you ever expect me to grow to like you when you are never around? You’ve never even done this with me before.” Your eyes scan his handsome face curiously. His tongue flicks out across his bottom lip quickly before he speaks. 

“I wanted someone untouched.” He shrugs. Not an uncommon wish for men. “You seemed eager to want to come with me.” He leans back in his chair and sets his elbows on the armrests. “Then you don’t speak. You do not participate when I want you to watch. Just drop your dress and let me look.” Marcus relaxes, every part of him does and it happens visibly in front of you. 

“You paid. What does that matter?” You squint your eyes at him with suspicion growing heavy in your buzzing brain. Marcus laughs heartily and smiles down at the goblet of wine in his hand. 

“I never wanted to touch you unless you wanted me to. Not just because you were a purchase.” His eyes flick up to yours as he waits for your response.

“Money for sex is so common. There are houses and buildings solely for that purpose! That is where we met!” You are confused, had a little too much wine and are kind of horny. “I came with you willingly.” You're blinking at Marcus. He is smirking at you like you are bringing him some kind of entertainment. “Why are you so hesitant?” 

“Do you not care that it may hurt? Or that is considered special to some?” He sounds curious now as to why you would just give it away so freely. 

“I do not care about pain. I hear that it feels very good after some slight discomfort.” You look at him down your nose and huff. “Treating me like I am fragile and will break.” Another huff and you look away from him. You make Marcus laugh again. 

“So eager to get fucked. You’ve really never been with a man or woman?” Now he sounds like he doesn’t believe you. 

“No. I have not, but that shouldn’t change anything.” You snap at him. General Marcus Acacius smiles at you when you snap at him. 

“Would you bed men and women with me once I deflower you?” He tilts his head to the side. “I like to take multiple people to bed sometimes.” He seems curious to know your answer, he leans forwards in his chair. 

“I have heard of orgies, yes. I don’t see why not—” He cuts you off.

“Not an orgy.” He says it firmly “I’d share you with another man. Watch as he fucks you. Us men, would fuck you together. You’ll watch me fuck him. We could share him. Let him enter you while I enter him. Would you like that? Or do you want to lick cunt while I fuck you?” He speaks so casually. So calmly like you’re not vibrating in your chair. “Watch me fuck her, while she licks your beautiful slit?” He leans back in his chair as if he is going to give you a moment to think about it. What is he asking of you? To be his paid and cared for personal whore? 

“I would.” You lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other while you look at him. “I’d do more, too.” You don’t even really know what you are talking about. He brings up the most extremes and the most you have done is suck a couple of cocks at the same time. Big deal. 

“Like?” Marcus’ eyebrows dance up once and then fall back down quickly. Okay dammit, you don’t know. 

“You could tie me up.” You mimic his little eyebrow dance he did and shrug one shoulder at him. Like you're so seasoned in that. You just saw it happen to someone else once! The General likes this though.

“I have my own restraints. And a whip if you want to be bad.” He smiles and sips from his wine goblet. You might be a little over your head but you do not care because you want this man to take your stupid flower so bad. Whether he paid for it or not. He can have it. “What?” His eyes are so dark. So intense as he asks you this.

“What?” You snap at him. “What do you mean, what?” You snap again. He snickers under his breath and drops his gaze to his lap. 

“You were staring at me, little Dove.”

Next Chapter

[thehoneybeestings]

──˚₊•Under A Full Moon•‧₊˚──

Word Count: 3.8K

Synopsis: Sevika sees you once at Babette's before deciding you're her favorite girl; and luckily for you, she's your favorite client. Thus blossoms an unspoken exclusivity between the two of you... or so you think, until one night, you happen upon her in between your coworker's legs. You're left blindsighted, hurt, and just plain jealous; and worst of all... you know it's unfairly so.

Continuation of Service Top! Sevika x Brothel Worker! Reader drabble

Content/Warnings: nsfw, service top! sev, brother worker! reader, bottom! reader, fem reader, reader has female anatomy, romantic smut, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), useless pining lesbians, angst w/ a happy ending, L-word drop (love not lesbian you silly!) sev def has an abandonment wound poor bby

A/N: SERVICE TOP! SEV x BROTHEL READER UNIVERSE EXPANDS! thank you so much to this anon for the incredible idea; this is the longest piece I've written, so i apologize that it's taken so long; but here we are, many a late night later! i hope i did the concept justice; this piece was honestly a bit challenging because of it's length and because i had so much fun fleshing out the idea and had to reign myself in a few times, but i really enjoyed the process and hope you all will enjoy the product!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

Today had been awful.

Unequivocally, comically awful. So much so, that Sevika finds herself standing outside of Babette’s, looking up at the silver moon, and wondering if its fullness has anything to do with just how bad her day had been; and she’s never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

It had been one of those days where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong- her mech arm had been short-circuiting all day, Silco was in a particularly pissy mood after a failed deal, and her team had fumbled a mission because some show-off new hire couldn't be patient- so she could only assume that today’s fury-inducing events were celestially predisposed. 

Actually, scratch that; she couldn't give two fucks about why her day been so shitty. All she knew is that it had, and she was exhausted, and she only wanted one thing right now:

You.

Of course, she wouldn't admit this, but the thought of your pretty eyes lighting up as she walked into your room, your sexy grin stretching across your face as you beckoned her over, your body underneath her as she coaxed you over the edge for the second, third, fourth time; these images had been the only thing holding her together today. 

Sevika knew better. Knew she had no business getting this attached to someone who was simply providing a service; and she'd scold herself for it later, but right now- as she opened the doors to Babette’s and made her way down the hall- she just wanted to see you. 

So, when she pushes the beaded curtain out of the way to see that you're not there, she hopes to the gods you're just on a break.

“Looking for Y/n?” 

Celeste, a coworker of yours, had found herself immensely displeased that you were hogging her favorite customer. Of course, she had failed to consider that clients choose their servicer and not the other way around, but she refused to believe that Sevika may not have been as interested in her as she was in Sevika. 

“Yeah,” Sevika gruffs, “I am.”

“Aw, that's too bad,” the raven-haired girl responds with a pout, “she just left for the day. Said she wasn't feeling well.”

Sevika would be unfathomably annoyed by this cherry on top of her already wonderful day if she weren't, first and foremost, worried.

“Not feeling well? How so?”

Celeste found herself becoming increasingly annoyed by Sevika’s show of concern for you. “She didn't say,” she begins impatiently, “but…” and then, she's trailing a finger down Sevika’s mech arm (Sevika didn't like anyone touching her mech arm but you) “I’d be more than happy to take care of you tonight.” 

Sevika had two options. She could go home and wallow in the frustration caused by the day’s events, or she could suck it up, settle for Celeste’s company, and at least end the night with some release. After all, it’s not like the two of you were exclusive, she thought; there was no reason why Celeste shouldn’t do, right? 

Right?

“After you,” Sevika huffed, trying her best to ignore how wrong it felt to follow anyone else to their room; and for the rest of the night, she’s trying her best to ignore how wrong the smell of Celeste’s perfume is, how wrong the taste of her skin is, how wrong her moans and mewls sounded bouncing against the walls…

And when you come out of the breakroom, you can feel your freshly blushed cheeks heat up in anger when you walk past Celeste’s room to see Sevika in between her legs. You only stand in front of the lace curtain for a second before you’re storming back to your room, and for the rest of the night, you’re trying to ignore how pissed you are. 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“I feel so pathetic,” you whine, “I mean, why do I even care? It’s not like we’re together.”

It’d been a week since you saw Sevika with Celeste, and you were sitting in your favorite booth at The Last Drop, hoping that the giant margarita sitting in front of you and your best friend would aid in taking your mind off of it all.

They were no stranger to the situation unfolding between you and Sevika, and at this point, they were downright sick of watching you pretend your relationship with her hadn’t long exceeded client and servicer. 

“Do I seriously need to answer that question, Y/n?” They tease.

“You know, I’d actually prefer if you didn’t” you sigh, before taking a sip of the lime green drink in front of you.

“Right… because you already know the answer.”

They were right. You did already know the answer, but you weren’t ready to admit that the feelings you had for Sevika were very real, and only getting stronger. 

“Well, clearly, she doesn’t feel the same way about me,” you spit. An angry heat flushes your face as the image of Sevika and Celeste floods your memory.

Your best friend looks down at you with a soft, knowing smile. “You know, there’s no way of knowing how she feels unless you ask.”

You lean back with a huff, letting your head hit the back of the wooden booth with a soft thud.

“I can’t do that; and either way, that would be completely unprofessional… or, at the very least, completely humiliating.”

“Oh my God, Y/n, you’re impossible. All this yearning…”

They slide the glass over and away from your reach, taking a giant sip of their own.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, unable to deny the claim, but grateful nonetheless for the humorous distraction from the situation(ship) at hand. 

That is, until the situation walks through The Last Drop’s double doors; and just like it had when you walked past Celeste’s room a week ago, your heart drops. 

“Perfect,” you seethe, watching Sevika make her way to the bar. “I’m gonna head out, okay? Drink’s on me.”

“Fine by me,” your friend quickly surrenders, coaxing one last chuckle from you as you stand, “but hey, seriously, it’ll all work out. I’m here for you too, yeah?” 

You give them a small smile. “Of course. See ya,” you call out before heading to the bar yourself, hoping to Janna that Sevika will stay where she was on the opposite end while you close out the tab; and as you’re sliding coins to the bartender and turning on your heel to leave, you think you’ve successfully managed to avoid her, until,

The hand on your back is large, warm, gentle. You hate that you immediately recognize who it belongs to. 

“Y/n?” 

You turn around, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“Sevika.”

Her eyes are scanning your face, then your body; she looks relieved to see you. You hate that, too. 

You just wanted to be pissed at her, avoid her at all costs, and ignore how you really felt about her for as long as possible. Why did she have to make that so hard?

“How are you-”

You interrupt her before she has the chance to make any of those things any harder. “I was just leaving. I’ll see you around, okay?” 

More than anything else, you hate how her face falls when you pull away, making a B-line for the exit. 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

For the past three weeks, you had taken to avoiding Sevika like the plague. You figured that after enough time, your feelings for her would inevitably fade, and you could go on about your life as usual. 

Spoiler alert: they would not. In fact, she was on your mind now more than ever; and frankly, it was pissing you off. 

You knew Sevika wasn’t yours. What you had with her was nothing more than business. You had no right to be angry with her for spending her time and her money on a night with someone else. 

That pissed you off even more. 

You sat at a vanity in the breakroom you had quickly dipped into when you caught sight of Sevika walking through the doors of Babette’s. 

“Gods, she comes in, like, every day now,” you complain to the worker seated to your right; the both of you powdering your faces. 

“You know, I’ve actually noticed she’s barely ever here anymore,” they begin. “She used to be here almost every night to see you.” 

They don’t know they’ve struck a nerve; which is why you feel a little bad when you suddenly slam your powder down, their eyes wide and confused as they watch you storm back to your room. 

You shove your way through the beaded curtain, eyes closed and jaw clenched as you try your best to collect yourself. You stand in front of the doorway, taking slow, deep breaths:

In, and out, in, and-

Why does it smell like cigarette smoke in here?

Just as quickly as you register the smell of Sevika’s cigarettes, your eyes fly open.

Here she was, in all her glory, sitting on the velvet couch in front of you. 

You had almost forgotten how pretty she was underneath the warm, soft light of the ornate lamps littering your room. You wanted so badly to crawl onto your place in her lap, to run your fingers through her raven hair, to trace the scars on her face- 

Gods, you hated what she did to you, and you hated that you just couldn’t get over it.

“The fuck are you doing?” You spit, heart already speeding up.

She chuckles through her nose, putting out her cigarette on an ashtray before standing to meet you. 

The amusement on her face drops, her jaw set, eyes boring into you; and for a split second, you’re almost scared. 

Almost; because, despite her intimidating reputation proceeding her, you were privy to a gentleness that no one else saw. 

“Here to ask you the same thing.” she spits. “Fuck have you been dodging me for?”

You knew Sevika. You knew her well; well enough to know that she was far too observant not to notice you avoiding her like the plague. 

“What are you talking-” “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Unfortunately, your plans to ice her out hadn’t accounted for the fact that Sevika simply was not going to let you get away with this.

“Answer me,” she continues, nostrils flaring. 

You nearly break under her gaze, but Sevika knows you well enough to know that you’re nearly as stubborn as she is. 

So when you bite back with a, 

“Why do you even care?”

All she can do is let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Can you be fucking serious? Why do I care? As if I wasn’t showing up here damn near every night to see you-”

“Exactly!” You snap, eyes blowing wide. “Exactly Sevika; why bother showing up nearly every night for six months, refusing to see any other girl, making me feel like I was… I was special, just for you to turn around and fuck Celeste because I wasn’t primed and goddamned ready for you as soon as you walked through the door?”

A pregnant pause fills the room, tension thick in the air. 

Your wild eyes scan the expression on her face. She looks… confused; her own icy greys darting from side to side like she’s trying to put the pieces of some puzzle together.

You’re trying to figure out what’s so confusing.

“Don’t act surprised,” you begin, rolling your eyes. “Was this not the plan? Convince me we had something so you’d get special treatment?”

“Sweetheart, slow down-”

“Don’t call me that! What is your prob-”

“Y/n!” 

The sound of your name on her lips had only ever been sweet; gentle. 

Loving.

Hearing her say it so scoldingly makes your throat tighten.

You feel like a kicked puppy; and you must look like one, too, because she’s quick to take a breath, dropping her shoulders and relaxing the furrow of her brow. 

“Just… hold on a second, okay?”

You take a deep breath of your own before giving her a small nod. She rubs her temples, seemingly still puzzled, before she finally asks,

“What do you mean you saw me with Celeste?”

And now, you’re just as confused. 

“Um… I mean I walked out of the breakroom to see your face buried between her thighs. What else could I mean?”

Her narrowed eyes zero in on you as the pieces finally come together; and as soon as they do, all she can do is laugh, because her only other option is to walk over to Celeste’s room and let her have it here and now. 

“That bitch.”

“Who, Celeste?” you inquire, “I mean, yeah; she is a bitch. What does that have to do with this?”

Sevika lets out an exasperated sigh, stepping closer to you.

“The only reason I was with Celeste that night is because she told me you were gone.”

Your stomach drops, jaw dropping with it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you breathe out.

“Wish I was. She told me you weren’t feeling well. Could barely focus that night because I was worried sick about you; been worried sick about you since, and if you had just talked to me, you would’ve known that.”

You’re flooded with so many thoughts- so many feelings- that you feel dizzy. This had really all just been a giant misunderstanding? Celeste had really lied like that? 

Sevika had really been worried about you all this time?

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. As angry as you were at Celeste, and as much as you wanted to blame all of this on her own jealousy, you knew that only yours was to blame for the month that had gone by since you’d given Sevika the time of day.

“I.. I’m sorry, Sev.” you mutter, hands wringing in front of you. “Didn’t think you’d be worried.”

“How could you not-”

She stops herself, running a hand through her hair as she turns away from you. 

The whir of her arm is the only sound filling the silence in the room, and you can tell by the tension in her shoulders that her thoughts are likely whirring just as fast.

For the the first time in a month, you reach out to place a hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the tight muscle; just like you would when she’d come to see you after a hard day. 

That’s all she had wanted a month ago; your gentle hands beckoning her shoulders to relax, your sweet voice beckoning her to talk, your soothing presence beckoning her to rest.

How could you not know that you had unwittingly made yourself her center of gravity?

Your hand stays planted where it’s at, but you don’t speak. You can tell by the way her eyes are nearly burning a hole into the spot on the floor she’s chosen to focus on that she’s got something else to say, and just needs a moment to figure out how to say it. 

So you wait; the soothing movements of your thumb saying, “I’m sorry; I’m here,” and the way she leans into your touch saying, “It’s okay. I missed you.”

“I know I’m not… good at this stuff,” 

You smile softly, tucking a stray tendril of dark hair behind her ear.

“So I can’t blame you for not knowing how I feel, but I… you…”

She huffs, and you can tell she’s getting frustrated.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “Take your time.”

She turns to slump down onto the arm of the wingbacked chair by your door. You slot yourself in between her legs, hands coming to rest on either side of her face; fingers mindlessly tracing shimmering lines of blue. 

“I don’t let anyone else touch those, you know?” 

 Your head tilts to the side, eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. 

“You don’t?” 

“No. I don’t. Only you.”

Another pause settles between the two of you, but for the first time since this conversation began, it’s comfortable. Peaceful. Familiar.

“Wasn’t my plan to fall for ya,” she finally admits, “and when I realized I had, I wasn’t really sure what to do with that… but I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like I was messing with your head and all.”

“It isn’t your fault, Sev,” you sigh. “Should have talked to you sooner. I was just… scared.”

“Of what?” She asks, looking up at you. “Of me?”

Damn her and those puppy dog eyes.

“No, not at all,” you quickly reassure. “Never of you. Was just scared to face the possibility that you don’t feel for me what I feel for you. Didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, you know?”

She lets out an incredulous chuckle; like there isn’t a world in which she doesn’t have feelings for you.

“Well… you’ve certainly made a fool of yourself now, doll.”

“Hey!” You scold, stepping back to cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“I’m just saying,” she says with a cocky smirk, “this could’ve all ended a month ago if you had just-”

“Okay, okay!” The wide smile on your face betrays the annoyance you’re trying to feign. Truth be told, you were too relieved by the appearance of her humorous side to pretend that you were mad. “I get it,” you continue, “I said I was sorry!”

“‘S alright, baby,” she shrugs, standing up to meet you; and when she steps forward to wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you can’t help but melt into the warmth you’d missed so much.

“Jus’ means we’ve got lost time to make up for.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

You’re two orgasms in when Babette comes knocking on your room’s doorframe.

Your head whips around to give her a wide-eyed stare from your place on Sevika’s lap- and on two of her fingers- chest heaving and lips swollen from the kiss you’d just pulled away from.

“The fuck? We’re busy here,” Sevika grumbles, hand waving to gesture towards the rather intimate position the two of you were in.

“Sorry ladies,” Babette sighs, “You know we close early on Sundays. Glad to see that you two are back at it, though;” and with that, she makes her way back to her office.

Still in shock, you turn back to Sevika; who seems entirely unphased by the interruption. 

“My place?” She shrugs; and you can’t help but burst out into laughter, leaning in for a kiss that’s all smiles. 

“Not gonna take me out to dinner first?” You tease, cocking a brow at her. 

Whatever cockiness you were attempting to exude quickly fails when her fingers curl up into you just right, and you gasp, hips twitching on her lap.

She wraps her mech arm around your waist, sitting up to place a kiss on your temple before bringing her mouth to the shell of your ear.

“I’d say we’re past pleasantries, don't you think?” she croons. 

A shiver runs down your spine, head tilting back as she lowers her head to plant open-mouthed kisses on your neck; and when her teeth bite down on your collarbone, all you can muster is,

“Your place.” 

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

The words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

She’s got you laid out underneath her on soft sheets of maroon, legs thrown over her shoulders, hips snapping into you ruthlessly.

For what felt like hours, her mouth had been on you, languid and slow; and when her mouth wasn’t on you, she was leaving a mark somewhere on your skin as her fingers worked you open.

From the outside in, it may have seemed like she was teasing, and for a second, you thought that’s what she was doing. You couldn’t really blame her if she were; a little repayment for the silent treatment you’d given her. 

But you knew Sevika well; could read her movements and expressions like a book. She wasn’t teasing. 

She was drinking you in; your form under her hands, the taste of salt on your skin, your whimpers and whines floating through the air. She was committing this moment to memory like it might be the last time she has you, and you realize, she’s scared you might leave again.

It isn’t until you place a hand on her cheek, coaxing her to look you in the eyes and telling her that you’re not going anywhere, that she’s finally pulled out of her trance, lining herself up between your legs with a crooked smile on her face. 

Now, her pace is quick, rough; but her gaze is so soft, eyes blown out with adoration.

Your own begin to flutter closed, rolling back into your head when she shifts just enough for her strap to plant kiss after kiss on the sweet spot of your velvet walls.

“Janna,” you pant, tears pricking your eyes, “Right there, Sev; please don’t stop.”

Who were you kidding? She wouldn’t dare.

Her thumb moves to wipe away the stray tear trailing towards your temple. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

When you open your eyes to look up at her, she’s looking back down at you like she’s in love with you.

“So pretty,” she mutters, her flesh hand warm on your cheek as her thumb traces your cheek, your jaw, your lips. “So, so pretty, baby; missed you so fucking much.”

You’re overwhelmed. By the way she talks so sweet to you, by the way she fucks so deep into you, by the third orgasm that threatens to break like a wave;

And when it does, the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it.

“Shit, ‘m cumming… just like that, Sev; fuck, I love you so much.”

Your eyes go wide like a deer in headlights when you register your own words; and when her hips stutter, you’re already preparing yourself to be met with a look that says, ‘are you crazy?’ … until, she lets out a groan of her own, not even bothering to pull out before she’s gone limp on top of you.

You’re still mortified, frozen underneath her, staring up at the ceiling. She must feel the racing of your heart, the shallowness of your breath, because she cranes her head up from its place nestled into you shoudler to speak into your ear.

“Calm down, baby. I love you, too.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

The moon is full again tonight; a stream of its cool light spilling in through the crack in Sevika’s curtains. You’ve already succumbed to the heavy lull of sleep; of course, not before Sevika insists that you pee, have a snack, drink some water, and promise that you’ll be hers from now on.

She gets up to disarm the heavy metal attached to her shoulder- something she only does when she’s certain that she’s safe- and climbs back into bed, careful not to disturb you. You rustle anyway, rolling over to bury your head in her chest.

Sevika has never really cared what the sun, the moon, and the stars had to say about her luck. 

She cares even less now with the entire universe sound asleep against her. 

End ୨ৎ

[unluckiestmember]

can I get the main characters of blue eye samurai with a innocent fem reader? I loved your Arcane innocent reader <3

Coming right up!

Blue Eye Samurai X Innocent Fem! Reader

Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo and Ito Akemi

Tags: Friends to lovers, workers to lovers, brothel, overprotective boyfriend/girlfriend, yandere themes, Ringo being Ringo, fluff, toxic(?) and open ending.

Warning: SFW

A/N: I'm so happy Blue Eye Samurai is getting the recognition it deserves! Who would you date? I'd get with Mizu or Taigen.

Mizu

“The stars are out tonight?... I can barely see them… It’s okay. At least I can see you… You’re beautiful…”

At first, Mizu found you to be as annoying like Ringo. You weren’t as annoying, but it was infuriating to travel with someone who was so fragile and couldn’t even defend themselves. She was surprised that with your demeanor you weren’t in a brothel or married to the next idiot of a samurai. She kept you at a distance, arm's length. But someway. Somehow. You slithered into her good graces and touched her heart.

When you two became a couple, Mizu began to treat you like a porcelain doll. If a man tried to touch you, their hand would be severed from their body in seconds. If someone bad-mouthed you, their tongue was cut out. Suddenly, you found yourself becoming a precious jewel to Mizu instead of a nuisance. During down time, she always checks up on you to see if you’re okay. Expect her to check if you have a temperature, if you’re hungry or thirsty. She wished deep down she could give up her mission to live a perfect life with you because that’s what you deserve. But promising such a thing is hard. At least for now, she has you and she will savor the time you both have together.

Taigen

“That was pretty cool, huh? You know I can teach you a thing or two if you say please… Haha! You’re cute when you pout!”

Unlike Mizu, Taigen found you to be a breath of fresh air on his journey to assist Mizu. He enjoyed how you were so pure in a world that was getting colder by the day. For a second, he was fearful of pursuing anything with you because of his relation to Akemi. But as the days went by and word started spreading fast of his lover’s affairs, the more Taigen lost hope in any future he could have with her. However, he gained hope in a future painted for you two.

Taigen is a mix of a man child and an amazing boyfriend when you two become a couple. He will tease you whenever you are being cute unintentionally or when you mess up doing something. It’s only because he loves your reactions to his commentary. He will also teach you how to protect yourself, preferably with a dagger. If you master using one, he’ll have you use a sword, but even then he’ll be a bit concerned it’s too much for you. On the battlefield, if he’s not showing off and winking at you after every kill, he’s quick to protect you from any harm. Let’s admit it. Taigen can be a pain in the ass. But he’s a great boyfriend.

Ringo

“You really think I can be a great samurai?! Then I’m going to train hard for both of us- I’ll be the greatest samurai for me and you!”

Ringo is a sweetheart. He didn’t expect to go on this journey to end up with a girlfriend, so when he scored one with you, you can imagine his surprise. He didn’t think much at first admittedly, but the more you kissed his cheek, nuzzled into his body on cold nights and threw him words of endearment, the more it settled. And boy did he adore having the title of being your amazing boyfriend!

With someone now to take care of, Ringo pushes himself to be an amazing samurai. He’s more persistent with his master to teach him how to use a sword and possess honor. He’ll even go as far as to ask Taigen to assist him if he can! Whenever he learns something new, he’s excitedly telling you all about it. If he finds anything interesting, he’s grabbing you gently to share it with you. If you’re looking for a ball of sunshine who’s both your friend and partner, look no further than Ringo.

Ito Akemi

“My darling. We will make our own path, away from this prejudice, these men- Everything that’s ever hurt us. That’s ever hurt you… You will never be hurt again. I swear it.”

Akemi knows all too well how it feels to be used and thrown away for your body if not your status. So when she met you at the brothel, she immediately clicked with you. She found your personality to be contagious along with your laughter. She spent every moment staring into your eyes filled with life, gently caressing your smooth skin just to make sure you were still there with her in this hell. You were the most beautiful flower she’s ever seen. You were a flower she couldn’t afford to be tainted.

She didn’t know why she fell for a woman or if it was a curse, but she loved you. She loved you enough to run away and spend as much life as she could with you until she was found by her father. But even then, nothing could hold her down. She was a princess who laid eyes on a commoner she wanted. That she needed. And no one would get in her way of having them. Of having you. She would destroy everything and bathe Japan in flames if it meant she could keep you in her warm embrace. She’d turn everyone into her enemy if you could be her lover. She’d be the villain if you were her savior… And that’s exactly what she was going to do.

If you got any requests for Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3