#and ive been sitting here like where the fuck is this even coming from i cut out all the stressors hello

[pupkou]

i’m literally going to **** ******

[rinofwater]

So was anyone gonna tell me that too much caffeine can worsen depression or was I supposed to figure that out for myself after sipping too much 'self-loathing bastard' juice?

[rainingincale]

Bro no joke, forgetting that not everyone hates capitalism and then having to try have a reasonable conversation with someone about buying things... *eye twitch*

[mollyrolls]

if you ever listen to me, let it be this time ‼️‼️‼️ please read rot and give it the love it deserves. truly one of the best pieces of writing on this site

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter five -> the move

(masterlist ; written content)

word count: 3.8k

now playing: school shooter by wych elm

warnings: this chapter is heavy with discussions of abuse, violence, other themes already discussed in this story, divided this last chapter in two parts and this is going to be the angst before the happy ending. when i say angst i mean angst. rest assured happy ending is coming tho

Her well-organized list of problems has been upended. A bright, shiny new problem has outshone all of her other ones, dimming them, displacing them, reducing their need for attention.

Problem #1: Iwaizumi Hajime, neighbor, definite arms-dealer, maybe boyfriend, has been arrested.

It’s hard to get people to listen to you in a police station. Cops sit at their little desks and they look at you like they’re pretending to pay attention to what you’re saying but really, all they can think about is how much better than you they think they are, and how little they care about your problems.

Matsukawa has a hand over her shoulder, not firm but not lose, like he’s ready to pull her back down to her feet if she leans too far over the front counter. She’s trying to appeal to the lady behind the front desk, (as if there’s anything she could actually do), voice raw and shaky, knuckles going white as she grips at the edge of the counter.

“Please,” she begs, her unhidden desperation feeling out of place in the clean station, where the smell of hand sanitizer and pine floor cleaner is heavy in the air. It’s far too bureaucratic for her to be like this; reduced to a pile of tears and snot, begging and pleading and being ignored like a small child throwing a fit. “He didn’t do anything to me. This is fucking insane, lady.”

“Honey,” she says, voice slathered in condescension, like she knows. Like she knows Iwaizumi’s been treating her like shit this whole time and she’s just been too stupid to realize it. Like she knows what’s best for her just because she sits behind the front desk at a police station for eight hours five days a week for semi-not shit pay and a pension. “If you want to help your boyfriend, the best thing you can do is get him a lawyer, okay? Yelling at me isn’t going to help. They can hold him for forty-eight hours, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

God, she wants to reach over this fucking desk and sink her nails into this lady’s face. Dig under her skin and gather evidence so they know it was her that did it. That desk lady’s sickly-sweet tone and fake pity had driven her to madness. A long-buried thirst for violence that makes her feel like a grade-school girl boils in her blood and it’s like Matsukawa can sense it because it’s then that his hand goes tight around her shoulder, and he pulls her back. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says, relaxed politeness sounding natural on him. “We appreciate your help.”

She doesn’t appreciate her help. She doesn’t appreciate shit. She wants to jump over the counter and make that known, but Matsukawa grabs at her arms and tugs, using a bit more force to get her away from that desk. But she makes a point to turn her head and shoot that lady one more rage-filled sneer.

Matsukawa doesn’t let her go until he’s pulled her out the front door, into the sidewalk of a busy city street. But he has no qualms about stopping her there, a dam in the middle of the sidewalk, foot traffic splitting and flowing around them. He grabs her by both of her shoulders. “Okay, you need to calm down. Like right now. Alright?”

Her teeth grind together. “I want to pop her fucking eyes out,” she spits out, like an unrepentant child, unashamed of her outburst.

“Well, that’s not going to do anything to help, so don’t fucking do that,” Matsukawa says, a bit of a bit in his voice and slightly shaking her shoulders. The air surrounding them is suffocating, hot and humid and beads of sweat are popping up on the back of her neck already. “And she’s right. There’s nothing we can do but get him a lawyer.”

She doesn’t look at Matsukawa. She hates him right now, because he’s right, and there’s nothing her blind rage and outburst can do to make it better. She focuses her stare just past him, watching the stream of tourists and college students and burdened employees that drifts down the sidewalk, past both of them. She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “Whatever.”

He releases her then, and her gaze falls to her shoes as Matsukawa steps back from her. A hand reaches up to push stray strands of hair away from his forehead. “Oikawa’s calling his guy. He should be down here soon. We’ve gone through this before, we know what to do. Iwa’s not an idiot, he can handle himself in there.”

The combination of rage and embarrassment tastes sour in the back of her throat. “He didn’t do it,” she asserts, for no one else other than herself.

“Course he didn’t fucking do it,” Matsukawa scoffs. “Iwa has lines. Hitting his girl is way past them.”

Her mouth furls. It’s getting hotter and hotter every second there on that sidewalk. Every emotion feels too big for her body; it paralyzes her. She hates this. She fucking hates this. Iwaizumi being locked in some holding cell with the drunken disorderly conduct leftovers from the night before. Him being in there because of her.

Matsukawa sees her standing there, stiff and clenched up, and sighs. “Look,” he starts off, more sympathetic than before, and the pity makes her twitch, “why don’t you just come back to mine and Makki’s place for now? You don’t have to go-“

And then, the call of her name. Loud enough to get the attention of everyone on that sidewalk. Commanding enough that people look, just to make sure, just to double check that it’s not their name, that they didn’t make a mistake, somehow. She looks over Matsukawa’s shoulder and sees her father. Out in the open, on the sidewalk.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says as he approaches, broad smile sending a new rush of rage down her spine. Matsukawa raises an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t dare to tear her eyes away from her father, looking clean in his freshly pressed uniform. Like this is some kind of special occasion for him. “I was worried help wouldn’t get to you in time.”

She blinks. There’s no room for fear in her body. “Help?” she echoes back, voice hoarse.

He moves to reach for her. She steps back, Matsukawa places himself in front of her. “When I saw how that boyfriend of yours was treatin’ you, I had to call in a favor. I got a friend that works in this district, y’know. I got lots of friends, Bug.”

Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. She feels stupid for not thinking of it earlier.

But she didn’t think of it. She wasn’t expecting it. She was completely caught off guard by her god-awful, piece of shit father.

So she can’t be blamed for her reaction.

She reaches into her pocket and fishes out her keys. A few for the sports store. Three for her apartment building (one for the front door, one for her place, and one for Iwa’s), and one to her old home she shared with her brother. She places them each between her fingers, and without very much hesitation, she punches the end of those keys into her father’s face, with as much force is left inside of her.

Pretty immediately, there’s a reaction from the stream of people. Screams, she thinks. Matsukawa’s quick to act, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her away from her now-bleeding father. But everything around her is white noise. She's numb to it. She looks at her father and she hopes the gashes will scar. “You piece of shit!” she screams at him. “I’ll fucking kill you! You fucker! You’re fucking dead!”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Her list is fucked now. She doesn’t know where rage issues fall in the new order. But probably higher than before, she would have to guess, because she’s sitting in an interrogation room.

Kageyama Tobio sits across from her, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and arms crossed over his chest. He’s leaned back in his seat, and she has this feeling she’s about to be scolded. “Assaulting a police officer is pretty serious.”

She feels dirty, humid air making her skin sweaty and salty, her hair fizzy and tangled. A bit of blood splattered on the skin of her forearm. They wouldn’t let her wash it off. “He’s not a police officer to me,” she says, words coming stubbornly out of the corner of her mouth. “He’s just my piece of shit father.”

Kageyama leans forward, bare forearms pressed against the cool metal of the table between them. “Can I ask you something?” He does not wait for the answer. “Is Iwaizumi worth all of this? Look at where you are, do you think this is worth it?”

“Can I ask you something instead?” She waits for confirmation from him. He gives her a slight nod. “Did you like PCD?”

He sighs, fingers tapping against the table. She wants to break them. “We can drop the charges on you, y’know. If you have something more valuable to give us, we’d be happy to do something for you in return.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Valuable?”

Kageyama leans back again. He adjusts a lot, she’s noticed. Moving and shifting and repositioning. She has stayed still in her seat. “Listen, I’ve known Iwaizumi for a while. All of them. I know what they’re like. I know how they can make you feel. You get caught up in it. Good people like you and me find themselves in shit situations without realizing it. But let me tell you this,” he says, severe, and a finger pointed in her direction, “Iwaizumi’s not going to give this up for anything. And you’re not an exception. As much as you think he cares about you, he cares about his job more.”

She can see her mother so clearly, then. For the first time in years. She can see her features, the details of her face. The ones she has in common with her brother. The ones she has in common with her. She can see the anger twisted into her brow like a permanent fixture. She can hear her voice, as if it’s in her ear now.

“Men like your father, they only care about one thing. And it’s not you and it’s not me.”

She lifts her head to meet Kageyama’s stare. His eyes are so sharp and so blue. “Kageyama?”

He leans forward. “Yeah?”

“Suck my dick.”

The sigh of defeat is, at the very least, satisfying. His shoulders slump and she watches the last bit of hope he was holding onto fade out of him. And at least she has that. “Well, in that case, you’re free to go. Your father’s not pressing charges.”

She stands at once, not immediately being hit the with realization that he had tried to trick her into snitching. “Fucking finally,” she spits out, her limbs feeling stiff and disjointed.

She’s halfway out the door when Kageyama says, “Yeah, well, see you later, I’m sure.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Iwaizumi is released before the forty-eight hours is up. She does not find out until four days after.

Most of those four days are spent numbly sitting through her shifts, face weathered and her limbs hanging from her body like heavy, led weights. She lies in her bed. She hardly eats. She checks her phone every five to ten minutes and she calls Oikawa and Matsukawa and Makki and gets their voicemails and she hears nothing.

And then, as she’s hanging out the window, smoking her second cigarette in a row, she sees him. Walking down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and his chin up. She watches, in disbelief for a moment, waiting to see if he’s going to turn into their apartment building and run straight up the stairs and into her arms and kiss her and apologize and swear that he would exact vengeance on her father. For the both of them.

But Iwaizumi just walks. He goes straight until he is out of her view.

With shaking hands, she texts him:

so when were u planning on telling me u got out?

He does not respond.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s a month before he speaks to her again.

A month after no texts and no calls and no early morning coffee visits and nothing but the creaks of his floorboards from above. It’s torture. It scratches at her throat and it puts nails in her bloodstream and she spends more than one evening laid out on her bathroom floor, sobs wrecking through her frame, clawing at nothing, trying to grab onto something.

The feeling of abandonment is not entirely unfamiliar. It tastes the same as anger, and it never comes without it. And the combination can make her irrational.

“-and my friend Tanaka has a truck,” Kiyoko says into her, her voice fuzzy from the poor connection. She has her phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder, haphazardly throwing whatever belongings she can find into the cardboard box she stole from work. “He offered to help move your stuff out if you want.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, drifting through her apartment, stopping as she settles in front of her CD player, sitting in the middle of her kitchen table. The one Iwaizumi gifted her. She makes no move to grab it. She’s sure that Kiyoko has one already. “Maybe he could come by tomorrow. I could be done packing by then. That cool?”

“Yeah, that should work. I’ll ask when he’s free.”

She hums in response, and kicks at one of the legs of her coffee table. A lot of her sidewalk trash furniture is going to right back to where it came from. “Are you sure this is okay with you?”

“Of course!” is Kiyoko’s enthusiastic confirmation. “It’s been a little lonely since my last roommate moved out. And to be honest it’ll be nice to split the rent again.”

God, rent splitting. It sounds like a dream to her. Expenses divided in half-she almost drools at the thought of it. She chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. Should probably finish packing now.”

“Alright. See you then.”

She snaps her phone shuts and pockets it.

Even as she empties it of her belongings, the apartment is a mess. Littered with forgotten belongings and things she never had the motivation to get rid of. Things she doesn’t know what to do with. Things that she doesn’t need and can’t justify keeping but she can’t bring herself to trash. The Ponkadu mug. Her pink, fuzzy journals filled with love struck passages. A dried, dead dandelion Iwaizumi ripped from the ground and placed in her hand.

Her head throbs. She looks up at the ceiling above her, like she’s waiting for something. A creak or a slam or something. A sign that he’s still there. That he’s not as far away from her as he feels. But it’s silent, and there’s nothing. And it’s like he was never even there in the first place.

She swallows the lump in throat and returns her attention to the scattered objects in front of her. She forces herself to harden and drops the Ponkadu mug in the trash. Then the journal. Then the dandelion. And she thinks to herself, bitterly, like she’s in an argument with herself, that it’s not like he was never even here in the first place. The evidence of his existence is all over her. It lingers in her lungs, in her chest, it spreads through her bloodstream. Iwaizumi’s there, causing every ache and every sting and every throb. He’s there.

Something possesses her. Everything can go in the trash, suddenly, it doesn’t matter what it is. Plates and freezer-burnt ice cream and a half-empty first aid kit. Anything with the lingering presence of Iwaizumi is getting dumped. Trashed. Left rot and fester in some landfill. And after an hour passes, her apartment is covered with bursting, heavy black trash bags of her wasted belongings.

She sits on the floor, shoulders slumped, legs crossed. She already threw out her couch. Her mattress is sitting on the floor of Kiyoko’s apartment, in the bedroom that will be hers by tomorrow. So for now, all she has is the rotted hardwood floor, where Iwaizumi told her he’d marry her.

Her throat tightens. She cannot get out of here fast enough.

Sweat droplets form on the back of her neck as she stands, ready to start hauling bag after bag out to the presumably already overflowing dumpster behind her apartment building. Her knees knock together as she stands, and she moves towards her door, ready to prop it open with one of the trash bags.

She undoes her deadbolt. Then her chain lock. Then she opens the door, and Iwaizumi is there, hand raised to knock.

At the sight of him, her throat tightens up, and she is immediately, torn split between her rage and her desperation. As much as she wants him to hold her, to make her promises and give her the comfort she’s been craving so desperately for the past month, she wants to bite his head off just as much. To make him hurt the way he hurt her. To tear him up from the inside.

Instead, she stares, blankly, somewhat horrified. Her heart beats heavy in her throat and her ears get fuzzy. He looks the same. That makes her angry. She wishes there was some change, some difference. But the Iwaizumi that said that he loved her in her kitchen and that he’d marry her on her floor is the same one that left her to rot on her own.

He steps into her apartment, right past her, like he still has the right to, and looks at the state of it. Everything packed up. Everything scattered. He looks at her like he still has the right to. “What’s going on?”

She flinches, and her anger is starting to win. “I’m moving.”

Iwaizumi pulls that face. That same one. Always looking like he’s slightly dissatisfied with something. “Why?”

Why. It’s such a stupid question. She tries to take a breath to calm herself but it makes her shudder and lock up. “I’m sure if you think about it, you can figure it out.”

She watches the air enter and exit his lungs through the rising and falling of his shoulders. He looks at her, right through her. “Don’t leave.”

In an odd way, she likes the control. She likes the feeling that, for once in her life, she’s not the one begging. “Don’t tell me what to do. Not after you left me.”

He exhales sharply. Iwaizumi takes a step towards her, and she takes a step back. “C’mon, that’s not fair. I didn’t leave you. I just needed to put some distance between us for the time being. Your dad, he’s fucked, alright? It was a liability to-“

“A liability?” she cuts him off, hands clenched into fists by her side. The heat in her blood rises. “I’m a liability?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and reaches towards her. She jerks away from him. “No, not that you’re a liability, it was just a risk to be around you while-“

“So, what, you couldn’t get one of your little errand boys to tell me about it?” she says, and it comes out like a bark. “You had to leave me in the dark for a month while you dicked off doing god knows what? Too risky to send a text? After I lied to the cops for you and risked getting arrested for you and became a fucking on-call nurse for you, you couldn’t send me a fucking text?”

Her breath is ragged. Iwaizumi stares down at her like he’s seeing for the first time. “I thought you wouldn’t care. I thought you don’t care about anything.”

And it’s too much for her. It’s too big for her body. It’s too much for her to carry and she can’t hold onto it anymore. “I care about everything! I care about everything so fucking much it makes me sick!” she erupts, tears in her voice and rolling down her face. Her skin feels hot. The air feels hot. “Is that what you liked about me so much? You thought I was some kind of apathic ragdoll you could toss around and do whatever you want with?”

“I thought you would understand!” he eventually bites back at her, his own voice rising. “I thought you knew what kind of life I live and what that meant! God, you fucking act like nothing bothers you and you pretend to not see the world around you and you just expect me to read your mind?”

“What fucking person would be okay with being abandoned for a month?” she screams. “You knocked on my door and asked me for a favor and you hovered around me and you said you loved me and said you’d marry me and then you just fucking disappeared! That’s so fucked, Iwa. That’s so fucking cruel.”

He steps towards her, and before she can say anything his arms are around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Like one simple embrace will end it all. Like he can just take her in his arms and suddenly she’ll stay, suddenly it’ll fix everything. She wants it to. She wants it to so badly. But she places her palms on her chest and pushes him away. She stumbles back and looks at him with wet eyes. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I do love you,” he tells her, voice lower now. “I meant what I said and I still do. You’re my girl. You’re everything to me.”

She shakes her head, trembling. She can’t let it be true. “No, I’m not,” she asserts, backing up into her kitchen table. Her hands go around the edge of it. “I don’t mean anything to you. You wouldn’t have left me if I did.”

“I had a reason-“

“I don’t fucking care what your reason was! I don’t fucking care, Iwa! I don’t care about your stupid job or your stupid fucking guns or whatever! I care that you were here, and then you weren’t! You left me like my mom did and you left me like my brother did and then you come back here and you have the fucking audacity to not even be sorry about it. I fucking hate you!”

She knows that she doesn’t mean it, when she says it. Iwaizumi probably knows too. He probably knows she doesn’t mean it when she swipes the CD player he got her off the kitchen table and it goes flying. Soaring across the room until it slams into the opposite wall, breaking and crumpling against the pressure. Bits of it snap off.

Iwaizumi looks at it, and then he looks at her. She’s shaking. She wants to get on her knees and do everything she can to fix it the second it breaks. But it’s on the floor, broken and shattered. Iwaizumi nods, and then he leaves. He turns around and walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.

an: huge huge huge huge thank u to wyr and ness and honee and molly and dodger who all had to suffer thru me trying to get this chapter out u guys are the best

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @pinkiscool @michivrse @cannibalsrider @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21 @snail-squasher @seroh @mfcherry @canthavetoomuchchaos @ange1icarch1ve @applepi25 @wqnsho @19calicos @girlkissersco @Lisoozi @bailey-reeds @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @kinsies-blog @1lovestrawberrymilk

[gallusrostromegalus]

hi i see that you have much smart dog experience. i may have accidentally purchased such a dog. she's only 10 weeks, and ive had her 1, and she's already outmatched every puzzle feeder i got or have made. to the point that she is morosely disappointed when her food comes in an actual food bowl. do you know where i can find like. "heres 100 enrichment toys you can make out of free trash so your dog stops eating fucking rocks for enrichment" lists. i only have so many paper towel tubes XD

Herschel now just disassembles puzzle feeders, so I've been focusing on "Toys that, even if he already knows how to operate them, will still take TIME for him to collect the treat from" to give him something to fuss with.

Herschel eats all his meals out of a Kong Wobbler, because he will otherwise eat so fast he will literally inhale and choke on his kibble and I do not need him developing pneumonia from aspiration. Even though it's a "Simple" toy it slows him down and he does have to think a bit to tip it in the most efficient manner possible. Kong's "Flipz", "Gyro" and "Rewards Wally" are also really good "dog needs to think/carefully manipulate the toy for food" toys that act as both mental stimulation and exercise and "give human a break for up to twelve minutes" toys.

I highly reccomend KONG as a brand- they're local to Denver and have an impeccable saftey record and all of the toys I have gotten from them have held up extremely well vs. the ravages of three entirely too smart and strong-jawed dogs at once.

Some more thoughts:

If she's not prone to shredding rubber, the kind of treat toys she has to chew are also good stimulation.

If you don't want to give her That Many treats, my vet said that dogs can have as many green beans as they want. Just make sure that the beans haven't had salt added to them- canned usually does, but frozen green beans usually don't, but always check the label.

You can make nearly any toy last longer, or make a cheap long-puzzle by freezing the treats so they take longer to eat AND provides hydration. Herschel's most favorite treat of all time is literally a wad of sliced green beans in a dixie cup, filled with water and frozen. Just peel off the cup and hand him the chunk of ice and he's good for up to half an hour and more chill afterwards.

You can also freeze lick mats

If your girl is like Charlie and doesn't like greenbeans, you can also try freezing paper cups of: Canned pumpkin, apple slices in water, putting some ice cubes in the bottom of the cup, a gob of peanut butter in the middle and then fill it with water to make a peanutbutter filled ice cube.

If your girl is REALLY like charlie who has figured out how to use labor negotiation and strike tactics for better treats: boiled chicken chunks frozen in some of the water you boiled them in.

Walkies are as much mental stimulation as they are physical exercise. Take her out and let her sniff to her heart's content.

Also Puppies in particular need like, SO MUCH exercise.

Let her participate in activities with you. Herschel and charlie sit in the kitchen and I narrate cooking dinner to them, which seems to interest them, even if I don't have spare veggie ends to give them. I also frequently bring them along in the car if I'm running errands when it's cold enough to do that, so they have something new to look at, and get to participate. I also am more likely to stop at a new park and give myself some exercise and mental stimulation.

Training her to do tasks is GREAT Smart Dog enrichment- esp if she's a herding or heeler, they LOVE being helpful. I taught the dogs they get a small treat if they come in from the yard without me having to go chase them down, which saved me a lot of hassle, and now I'm working on teaching herschel to pick things up off the floor for me if I drop them and alert for chickpeas, which my housemate is allergic to.

A lot of dogs like cat-type toys. Tie a stick or some fleece to some paracord and drag or flycast it around for her to chase/play tug with when she catches it. Toys that bounce unexpectedly were also a huge hit. or just wave the string around the cat and the corgi both like that.

If you live in farm country or know other people with pets, you can grab something with the scent of another animal on it and bring it home for her to smell. Charlie and Herschel spent the better part of three days investigating the wad of horse undercoat I brought home and put in the spare wobbler for them to smell.

[cherubunie]

hii can you do something like a corruption kink with any enha hyung line membet you want and like virgin reader? where they're like lowkey going wild over the fact that she's a virgin and can't wait to corrupt her and stuff. sorry if this makes no sense or you don't want to write it, i totally get it if you don't. thanks and have a nice day <3

corruption ~ enha hyung line

if the enha hyung line would have a corruption kink or not , and the extent of which how badly they want to ruin your innocence and take you for themselves.

enha hyung line x reader | corruption kink

warnings : semi smut , corruption kink , multiple positions , daddy kink , sub / dom dymanic , breeding kink , dacryphilia , degrading , praise , size kink , this kinda sucks , not proof read

LEE HEESEUNG .ᐟ ----- ♡

I feel like heeseung would have a corruption kink - but only to a certain extent and only for you.

the two of you have been dating for a couple months now , and everything has been so blissful and sweet... apart from your sex life.

every time the two of you make out and things get heated , you always shy away and make up an excuse not to do anything sexual.

he is so patient with you though and would never get mad at denying any sort of sexual intimacy , he is such a sweet boyfriend ugh I love him sm.

but one day , the two of you are making out , and his fingers slide up the fabric of your skirt , your skin leaving goosebumps trailing on your skin.

just as he's about to reach your underwear , you whine and break the kiss. your lips wet and swollen as you catch your breath before you speak in a whisper.

"I-im not ready" heeseungs eyes open and meet with yours , his lips also swollen and hungry.

"wassa matter baby ? you can tell me angel , im here to listen" your face turns a shade redder than it already was and you sit back a little on his lap , shifting uncomfortably. your eyes dart away to look anywhere else but him . his fingers rub gentle patterns on your thigh , coaxing you to calm your nerves.

"im... uhm... im not- I dont know.. god this is embarrassing," you face palm and bite your lip. heeseungs ears perk up , his mind racing at your words.

he's had a suspicion about the topic at hand , he's just been waiting for you to confirm it.

and oh god does this make things so much better for him.

his own personal , little baby to corrupt and ruin . the thought of taking your virginity for himself and showing you how to have sex , teach you how to use your pretty mouth makes his dick harder than ever.

you feel his cock harden underneath you , and your eyes widen in shock, your hips squirming in his hold.

"h-heeseung... im- I dont know how... ive never done anything.." you shake your head and cover your face in embarrassment once more.

heeseung brings your hands down from your face and force you to look at him, both of your faces red.

"I don't care angel ... I'll take care of you, kay'?" one of his hands trail to your thigh, trailing upwards once more.

"I'll make you feel good baby , so so good..." his fingers met with your damp panties , pressing them against your clothed bundle of nerves

"you'll be beggin' me to stop.."

he would finger you on his lap to prep you, your first orgasm rushes over you , and you can't help but fall apart on his lap underneath his control.

after making you come undone on his lap , he would force you onto your back and eat you out , lapping and sucking your juices like a starved animal , showing you just how good he can make you feel

he never wants to stop ever because you have such a sweet , sweet taste.

"my pretty girl has such a sweet taste , such a good girl for me baby , you gonna cum again my love ? wanna cum for me angel ?"

the though of having a perfect , little virgin right in the palm of his hand coming undone all for him and because of him quite literally makes him cum in his boxers , and he hasnt even touched himself yet !

ugh how he can't wait to fuck your tight , soaked pussy and make you drool all over him with the dumbest , braindead look on your face makes him hot and heavy - so that's exactly what he does.

PARK JONGSEONG ----- .ᐟ ♡

oh yes he would 100% have a corruption kink , and its BAD bro.

the two of you are just friends , but its so obvious that you have a crush on each other .

some sick and twisted part of Jay stops him from confessing first - wanting to see just how worked up he gets you before you fall apart in frustration.

that's the sadistic side of him.

you always go to him with your frustrations - and recently , its been about how you can't get yourself off no matter what toy you use - and you have a pretty good collection.

"I dont know what im doing wrong ! im so- ugh. I can't do anything by myself and I dont even have a boyfriend to help me. the guy I like doesn't like me back and it's so frustrating" you take a deep breath , your cheeks coated in a deep , pink blush before you continue

"I want... I wanna be able to pleasure myself so badly - im so frustrated all the time , espically with the guy I like ! its so frustrating being around him he makes me so..." your eyes lock with his , and you swear your heart stops for a second.

Jay is man spreading on your bed - it would be a cute sight due to your cute stuffed animals surrounding him in your pink bedroom - but the look on his face makes you fold in on yourself and stutter over your words.

"I-i ... n- nevermind..." your arms cross over your stomach and you advert your eyes from his figure.

the reason you came to him was because you've been best friends since you were children , and a conversation like this was never awkward because you have told each other literally everything - when you hit puberty and you didn't even know how to put a tampon in , how much gooey blood there was - and none of it made jay feel weird , of course it wouldn't ! he could never feel weird around you.

Jay's thoughts are running wild , especially with the way your thighs are clamped together and rubbing against one another. you dont realize you're even doing it , and that thought makes him want to pin you down and use your body as he pleases.

"look at me." his demand causes you to jump , and you obey him with shy eyes. your eyes interlock with his and he tongues his cheek , eyeing you up and down.

hes had enough of this little game ; he's caught you inbetween his fingers and now here you were , squirming in the palm of his hand like a pathetic little mouse.

"you truly have no idea what you do to me, huh y/n?" you suck in a deep breath , your lips parting as he continues.

"you wanna know what I wanna do to you , sweet thing ?" your heart rate increases , your body frozen just a mere foot or two away from the man in front of you.

"oh so many disgusting , dirty thoughts come to mind." your eyes dont look away from his , not for a second as he continues.

"you think I didn't know about your little infatuation , y/n ? its so abundantly obvious , its honestly adorable how innocent you are."

"j-jay..." you say breathlessly. he chuckles at your words , but continues nontheless.

"you honestly think I didn't see you humping your pillow after I left your house ? how you whimpered my name so pathetically ? you still couldn't get yourself off huh baby ?" you shake your head without thinking .

"aww , my poor baby couldn't do it herself huh ?" you shake your head again.

"I went home that night and thought of all the positions I wanted to fold you in. how badly I wanted to use your body however I wanted." you whine at his words , your thighs rubbing against each other more harshly.

"I wanna eat your sweet pussy with my fingers fucking you from the inside out" he sits up and begins to crawl over to you, your heart rate picks up and you lean back on instinct. Jay chuckles , enjoying the little cat-mouse game you've begun to play.

"I wanna fuck and abuse you tiny cunt until your eyes roll into the back of your head , my name being the only thing you can remember" your back hits the mattress below you, Jay crawling over your small frame right after. his fingers come in contact with your damp panties under your pretty dress.

"tsk, so wet already, how pathetic." you whimper at his cruel words , but he feels your hole clamp and his eyes widen.

"I'm gonna make you cry all over me baby . want me to use your pretty body ? want fuck you dumb ? "

you nod your head , but that's not enough for jay.

"words, princess"

"y-yes daddy..." now its his turn to feel flustered, his cock straining in his jeans at your words.

"oh god , you're so perfect , such a good girl for me , a good girl for daddy hmm?" you nod your head , gasping as his cold fingers pull your panties to the side and run through your wet folds.

god he can't wait to strip you of your innocence and alter your mind to where you can't even process anything but him and him alone , forcing you into submission and mark you his and only his.

SIM JAEHYUN ----- .ᐟ ♡

I feel as though Jake wouldn't have much of a corruption kink - he would be more into the experienced women.... however, you would be the one and only exeption.

the two of you have been friends for a couple years , meeting through a mutual friend of yours , sunghoon. since the moment Jake has laid eyes on you , he knew he was fucked .

the two of you dont hang out one on one often , only a few times has it happened , deciding on the fact that hanging out in a friend group setting was more ideal.

he tried to get rid of the little crush he had on you , he really really did.

until one day you two had ran into each other while walking to class . you decided to hang out for the day and do some shopping .

Jake wishes he would have never ever agreed , because that day he figured out just how innocent you truly are .

you literally took him into a Victorias secret for fucks sake , and despite his protests and cherry red cheeks , his looks of lust mixed with embarrassment flew right over your pretty head .

what made the situation worse was a couple guys tried hitting on you after figuring out you were single - you were beautiful , of course you would get people hitting on you from time to time.

you were so oblivious to their remarks , that when they walked away , you literally said with your entire chest

"I made a new friend !" you were so cute , it took Jake all his restraint in his body from bending you over the display and fucking you raw.

his last bit of sanity slipped from his fingers when you were hanging out with all of your friends at jakes house. the topic of sex came up and everyone was talking about how they've had sex before , and Jake couldnt help but stare at you the entire time .

your cheeks were dusted red and you were shyly sitting with your knees pressed together , looking around the living room and avoiding the conversation.

"what about you y/n , you've ever had sex ?" sunoo wiggles his eyebrows

"dont make her uncomfortable dude , y/n dont listen to him" sunoo rolls his eyes at jays lecturing words . you purse your lips into a pout and look over at Jake , who is already staring at you , waiting for an answer

"actually.... im a virgin." you say , embarrassment laced in your tone. Jake feels his dick harden and his eyes widen. how could he have been so blind ? of course you were a virgin , you're so oblivious when guys hit on you , and you literally took him into a Victorias secret .

he feels his sanity snap the second the words leave your mouth , and he quickly ushers everybody out of his house , claiming that something came up and everybody has to leave.

you were about to leave , waving Jake a goodbye before you took a good look at him ; he was avoiding all eye contact with you and didn't say goodbye.

he was acting weird , and you had to get to the bottom of it.

"Jake , are you okay ?" worry written in your tone , it made Jake groan

"im fine y/n , ill see you later " he goes to close the door , but you push it open before it had the chance to click closed .

you push your way in, looking up at the man with a questioning look. you cross your arms over your chest and shift your weight onto one of your legs.

"Jake , please tell me what's wrong , did I do something" Jake groans again , and his patience is wearing unbearably thin as you question him.

"y/n please , I don't want to talk about it" the thought of you being a virgin is eating away at his morality , his entire demeanor shifting dark as you stand in his doorway .

he's two seconds away from lifting you into the air and throwing you down onto the nearest , comfortable surface and showing you how experienced he is , taking away your innocence and virginity and carving his name all over it , making you his in every way possible .

"please , im here for you" you go to reach for his hand , but are quickly met with the front door slamming right before being pushed up against it, Jake hovering over your smaller frame and trapping you with his arms .

your clit throbs , an unfamiliar feeling as he looms over you.

"you drive me so. fucking. insane." he speaks honestly , and your thighs clamp down and rub together , needing some sort of friction.

"you mean to tell me you dragged me into a lingerie shop , and had no idea that you were turning me on ?" you gulp at his words - you half knew what you were doing, and you're now starting to feel embarrassed for doing so.

"I-im... yun.." you whine, not being able to form a coherent sentence.

"im giving you two options; you can leave and our friendship will go back to how it was because its clear that this isn't normal , or you can stay" you're about to answer , but you're cut off before you can speak

"if you stay , im warning you now that you're not going to be able to walk out of here tomorrow" you dont answer , your voice cut too small in order to do so.

Jake takes your chin between his index and thumb finger , forcing you to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.

"i'm gonna to make you scream my name and cum as many times as I want" his hand moves from the wall to your waist , pressing his front against yours , resulting in his hard cock pressing up against your thigh. you gasp , nodding your head quicker than you can think

"please- want you yun.. pl- yes.. wanna stay" that's all he needs before he's lifting you into the air , your legs wrapping around his front while your hands find their way to entangle in his hair.

his fingers work magic on your clit , your slick coating his digits perfectly

"so wet for me , you have such a pretty pussy baby" he kisses your bundle of nerves as he presses two fingers into your tight , wet cunt. your back arches off the bed as you approach your first orgasm in your life. you feel a weird sensation in your tummy and your hands frantically grab jakes shoulders

"o- oh my god I feel... please" you beg for something you aren't even sure of.

"c'mon darling , finish for me pretty girl" and so you do , squirting all over jakes face and bed and his eyes widen in shock. he coaxes you to relax before kissing your temple

"looks like I got a little squirter on my hands" he chuckles

"g-gentle please.." you shouldn't have said those words oh god , that only makes Jake want to be more rough , but he listens anyways as his thrusts are slow and concentrated . the way you're pussy is unbelievably tight and new is so, so taunting.

you hiss at the sting and before long , he's folded you in half and showing you all the right positions and angles , fucking you through your third orgasm of the night.

"y-yun feels so - ugh ff-uck" you squeal at the angle , his bulbous tip kissing your sweet spot with every thrust

"want me to fill you up with my cum sweet ? breed your tiny pussy ? oh god you're so small fuck " your back arches off the bed and you scratch his back , leaving trails of red blood.

"tell me how it feels baby , let go all over me" he speaks , demanding an answer

"f-feels so good , so full , mmmf , oh my god" you respond , your legs shaking in jakes hold and your eyes squeezed tight

Jake doesn't seem to care as you flutter around his cock , screaming as your fourth orgasm just about washes over you.

"please , want you to use me ! d-da... ddy please!" as if you couldnt be any more perfect , Jake chuckles before snapping his hips against your ass , your knees besides your head.

"dont worry baby , daddy's gonna take such good care of you . such a good girl , giving daddy your innocence , takin' me so well" you just about sob at his sweet words

letting Jake take your virginity was the best fucking thing that could have happened ever

PARK SUNGHOON ----- .ᐟ ♡

he has the worst corruption kink fucking ever dude it drives me INSANE

sunghoon is someone you met in a college class.

although he was reserved and somewhat cold , you tried to get along with him anyways , he was your seat partner after all.

it took a while for him to start getting comfortable with you and soon , the two of you became friends.

it took him way longer to let you in than most people because of how badly he wanted to fuck you.

yes, fuck you. the way you hold yourself was so cute. you were a shy one for sure. you were soft spoken and quiet - reserved in the exact same way he is and it would be a lie if you were to say you didn't find him attractive either.

a mature , strong man is all you needed - so you were bound to start lusting after him as he was you.

but you couldnt ruin such an early friendship , the two of you were starting to get to know each other and you didn't want to mess things up. the more you two hung out , the more you realized he was different with you than with other people he knew

more gentle in a way. how he would talk to you so soft and caring , he was the biggest sweetheart - especially to you.

but dont let his actions deceive you - his thoughts were definitely nothing like how he acts.

every lingering, soft touch on the small of your back makes him want to force you into an arch and pound into you from behind , pulling your hair and making you scream out his name.

bite and suck pretty little marks into your perfect skin, make you cream all over his cock as many times as he wishes as you lay down and take it like a good little girl.

every time you would get too close to him , resulting in getting a wiff of your vanilla perfume makes him want to force your legs apart and eat you out for hours until your too weak to move , yet still cumming all over his face.

you would send him a selfie of your makeup and outfit before starting your day , and each time you did that he would groan and rub one out

"fuck-" he moans , squeezing his tip in his palm as he looks at his phone screen - a beautiful picture of you - your hair is up in two curled ponytails , your glittery eyeshadow and wispy eyelashes make your doe eyes pop , and oh god your lips are pink and glossy , pouting as you snap the picture

he wishes he could stain your lips with his cum and stuff your cheeks full of his warm seed

he would face fuck you until you pass out due to lack of oxygen

his pearly beads of precum leak from his tip as he smears it down his shaft , using it as lubricant as he moans your name , imagining his hand was your mouth instead

he would teach you how to suck his cock and would be oh so patient with you. you would look into his eyes for praise and he would gift it to you gratiously

"such a good girl , taking my cock so well-"

"sunghoonie?" one of his friends breaks him out of his trance. you're in a group setting and one of his female friends is trying to talk to him- more so flirt.

he pays no mind to the girl, focusing on your figure instead.

the way your short skirt compliments your thighs makes him feel hot , and it doesn't help with the thigh highs you decided to wear along with the dainty article of clothing.

you're talking to Jake , who is flirting with you shamelessly. you are also paying him no mind as you're ears are focused on sunghoons conversation.

you feel anger bubble in your chest as this chick flirts with him. Jake notices your soiled face and says something about it. you mutter under your breath

"I got to go" before walking away and towards your apartment - which was just a couple minutes away. sunghoons eyes follow your figure and he up and leaves his conversation , not caring that he just ignored the girl.

"y/n , y/n wait " sunghoon catches up to you and grabs your wrist , spinning you around to face him. your face is contorted into one of anger , and sunghoon can't help but coo at your cute face

"what's the matter?" he pouts , your anger doesn't disperse though as you clench your jaw. you feel more embarrassment now because he actually followed you - you have no idea what to say.

"I don't know , I dont feel good" you lie through your teeth , and he catches it. sunghoon shrugs his shoulders and starts walking in the direction of your apartment , wrapping his arm around your back , his hand finding the slope of your waist and directs you towards your apartment.

you blush under his hold as you open your apartment door , letting the man in and following in right after.

"why did you get upset and storm off?" he asks , sitting down on your couch with his legs spread. you walk into the kitchen and grab a glass of water , chugging it before answering.

"I just wasn't feeling good" he raises his eyebrows at your lie , eyeballing you from across the room.

"are you sure about that?" your cheeks glow red and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze , fidgeting with your fingers.

"you have no clue huh?" you shoot him a questioning look, not quite picking up what he's putting down. he chuckles at your face , finding it adorable how you squirm just from him looking at you.

"about what?" you respond , sunghoons eyes grow dark , racking his eyes up and down his figure.

"tell me y/n , do you have any experience with guys?" your breath hitches at his question and you slowly shake your head back and forth, answering him. sunghoon smirks at you , bringing his hand into the air , motioning for you to come to him.

"come here, love"

you obey , walking over to him slowly and standing inbetween his spread legs. he sits up and places his hands on the hills of your waist , massaging gentle circles on your skin.

"tell me why you were upset" he looks up into your eyes and you can't help but feel like falling apart in his hands.

"that girl earlier... she was flirting with you.." your voice was above a whisper , but you answer anyways. sunghoon bites his cheek , his hands running down your body and towards your thighs. goosebumps trail on your skin at his touch.

"and you were jealous ?" you nod your head as an answer , sunghoon admiring your submission.

"you think I touch her like this hmm?" his hands move up your short skirt and towards the hem of your underwear, playing with the straps of your lacy thong. you shake your head , your chest heaving up and down.

"want me to tell you a secret?" you shake your head yes , not being able to find any words in your racing mind. sunghoon pushes you to sit in his lap , his hands coming to cup the plush of your ass under your skirt , playing with your underwear.

"ive been wanting to fuck you since the day I saw you. I masturbait to the selfies you send me every morning" you wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck , pressing your chest against his with a hushed moan , burring your face into the skin of his collarbone and neck. his hands move to your hips , guiding you to grind down onto his growing cock.

"do you fuck yourself thinking about me , little one?" you nod your head shamelessly , whimpering out a pathetic "yes". sunghoon moves his face to kiss up and down your bare neck, beginning to grind his hips up into yours for friction.

"have you ever came to the thought of me , pretty ? you ever cum to the image of me fucking you ?" you shake your head no , an embarrassing whine vibrating through his neck through your lips.

"my poor baby. needs daddy's help getting off hmm? can't do it yourself so you need daddy to do it for her huh?"

"y-yes please, need daddy's help making me cum"

so that's exactly what he does

over

and over

and over again

your first orgasm was gifted to you by sunghoon so sweetly , eating you out with your back flush against the couch with your panties pulled to the side , gifting you words of praise such as

"doing such a good job for me baby doll"

and

"just like that pretty girl , my perfect little girl"

earlier, you would have thought he was the sweetest person on earth, but that quickly changed as he has your ass in the air and your face down into the cushions of the couch , screaming his name over and over again

"d-daddy slow ! can-cant ,, too much please !" you squeal , but your cries are useless as he abuses your tiny hole.

"gonna make you mine , fill you up so nicely - ill put a fucking baby in you , want me to make you a mommy?" of course he's bluffing , god this was your first time having sex for fuck sake .

"y-yes please daddy fuck- need,, oh god please" your legs kick under him , your arms held in place by his hand behind your back. he chuckles at your words , his hips snapping against your ass in a rough pace that doesn't let up.

"who's pussy is this, who owns you doll?" you scream as you feel the coil in your abdomen unravel , sunghoon landing a harsh smack against your ass.

"you do ! daddy does !"

"that's right baby , daddy does. gonna fuck you dumb and take your goddamn innocence until you're a puddle in my hands."

[evie-sturns]

caught - Matt Sturniolo

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summary: you and matt are left home alone so you decide to go upstairs, he catches you getting yourself off and decides to help you.

warnings: caught masturbating, use of vibrator, rough matt, humiliation, swearing.

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(y/ns pov)

me and matt have never been close, me, chris and nick have been inseparable since the 8th grade, but ive never really spoken to matt. he showed little interest in talking to me. ive always really liked him though, but it was clear that he didn't feel the same.

im sitting on the couch with chris and nick, and abrubtyl chris stands up and starts - "im so fucking hungry, anyone wanna come with me to get food?" chris says and gets no respone "nick i dont care your coming with me." chris says walking over to nick, whos sat comfortably beside me, he yanks nick off the couch which is followed with a scream from nick, he drags nick out of the living room. "y/n we'll be back in like 45 minutes, dont do anything stupid." nick yells out.

the front door shuts with a loud slam, i can hear nick giving chris grief from outside and i smirk slightly.

i matts been absent the past few days, so i assume hes out somewhere with friends. i sigh before heaving myself off the couch and walking towards the guest room, where i sleep most nights. i swing the bedroom door shut behind me and leap onto the bed.

my phone suddenly buzzes 'new post from matthew.sturniolo' my face lights up from the notification and i instantly click it. i scroll through, its matt wearing a lime green shirt, grey sweatpants and a cheetah print beanie. fucking hell. i instantly feel an aching between my legs and i squeeze them together, trying to get any kind of friction i can. im not even on the second picture before the heat between my legs becomes sore. i roll over on the bed and reach for the vibrator that ive kept between the matress and the bedhead for times like these.

i yank down my shorts leaving me in my white lacy panties. i pull them to the side and the hum of the vibrator fills the room, i lightly drag it up my folds towards my clit. "mmfgh" i moan loudly as i grip the pillow so tight my knuckles grow white. "oh my god oh my god" i whimper as i apply more pressure to my clit, i can feel myself growing closer to my orgasm as i imagine matt, his hands, his hair, his tattoos, his piercings, suddenly my eyes spring open, matts standing right infront of me, staring at me with his jaw slacked.

(matts pov)

i groan as i sit up in bed, ive been rotting here for ages.

i throw on a grey shirt on, and yank my sheets, which are spread across the floor, up onto the mattress then pull open the curtains, my eyes squint from the sudden sunlight beaming in my eyes.

i open up my bedroom door and walk downstairs, y/n's bag is resting on the countertop, but shes nowhere to be seen, unfortunately.

chris and nick also have vanished, theyve probably gone out with her. i walk back up the stairs towards down the corrider, suddenly i hear soft whimpers coming from the guest bedroom, my eyebrows raise as i approach the door "oh god oh god fuck.." i hear coming from inside, what the fuck is happening in there, is she hurt? i open the door slightly and look inside.

y/n is laying back on the bed, gripping the pillows as her pussy in displayed, a hot pink vibrator rubbing against her swollen clit. my jaw instantly drops as i see her phone lit up next to her, on my recent post. was she masturbating to.. me?

i freeze up, i'm not sure what to do, or think. suddenly her eyes spring open and she instantly looks me up and down, she doesnt stop though. instead she looks me in my eyes as she orgasms, cum oozing out of her as she pants. "wait-" she suddenly whispers before her eyes bulge out of her head, she instantly pulls her panties back and leaps out of bed.

she looks at me horrified, i just smirk at her, she looks like shes just seen a fucking ghost. "y/n.. did you just cum by looking at me? fucking pathetic." i say approaching her, she just looks at her feet and nods slowly. i grab her waist and throw her back onto the bed. "so fucking perfect." i growl as i pull her panties down to her ankles "please fuck.." she whimpers, "tell me where you want me" i say softly, teasingly. she twists on the bed, burying her face in the pillow "dont make me say ittt.." she whines, but i just sit patiently, waiting for her to say in. "touch my clit." she blurts out "anything.. i need you.." she reaches for me and i pin her down to the bed with one hand by her wrists. with my other hand i grab her vibrator, still wet from her cum.

i turn it up to the max setting and press it to her clit as hard as i can she squirms but i hold her down. "keep looking at me, or ill stop." i whisper in her ear and she instantly springs her eyes open, staring into mine. i unpin her wrists and use my other hand to thrust into her needy hole. she clenchs around my fingers as she squirms.

"do not fucking move." i growl as i thrust my fingers in and out of her faster. "im gonna cum oh my god." she groans and i press the vibrator down further "dont cum. do not cum until i tell you, you can." i say thrusting faster "i cant hold it-" she yells "yes you fucking can."

after a few more minutes of her begging me to let her cum, i finally let her "go on, fuck.. cum all over my hands baby." i say and before i even finish my sentence shes releasing all over my two fingers. "good girl, so good." i whisper as i pulls my fingers out of her and wipe them on the pillow behind her. "so so perfect." i whisper into her ears as her whole body shakes. i sit down next to her on the bed and pull her onto my lap. "you liked that?" i say squeezing her tight to try stop her shaking.

"fuck you dont know how long ive needed that." she whispers as she holds my bicep tightly.

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I love this omfg i hope yall like it too!!!

request or just talk whatever you want in my inbox!!

[zylev-blog]

HONK! CRASH!

Danny woke up with a jerk. He laid in bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling and listening to the chaos downstairs. He could hear something running around the house honking, his dad yelling, and the sound of a gun going off. He didn’t have enough sleep to deal with this. All he had wanted was to sleep before school, but was that ever going to happen? No! Why was it always him that had to deal with everything?

“GRAB IT MADDIE, IT’S GETTING AWAY!” Dad yelled.

“I KNOW, JACK!” Mom yelled, shooting her gun again.

CRASH!

Danny rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh, tossing the covers off of him and putting his feet onto the floor. Just as he was about to get up, he heard thumping coming up the stairs. Great! Now he would get in trouble if he didn’t try to head off whatever was running around their house. He ran over to his bedroom door and yanked it open, running down the hall until he was face to face with a black duck. It wasn’t even a ghost! The duck had a patch of blue around its eyes that looked like a mask, and blue markings down the side of it. In his confusion, the duck slipped between his legs and kept running down the hall.

Jazz screamed from somewhere downstairs. “There’s another one!”

“IVE GOT IT!” Dad yelled.

Cursing, he ran after the duck just as his Mom ran up the stairs. He grabbed the duck off of the ground, ignoring it as it hissed at him and tried to bite him.

“What the fuck?” He asked Mom.

“Language, sweetie.” Maddie said while she aimed the gun at the duck in Danny’s hands.

“What’s going on?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the duck squealing.

CRASH!

They both ignored the sounds coming from downstairs. Danny decided it wasn’t his immediate problem, so he said nothing on what sounded like Dad plowing through a wall at top speed while running.

“We thought these ducks were ghosts at first, but they’re not. We don’t know where they came from.” Maddie took a step towards him, a frown on her face. “They came out of the portal.”

The duck was still trying to bite him. It couldn’t even break the skin of his hand, so he didn’t try to fight it.

“Weird looking duck.” He commented. “Ducks aren’t blue.”

The duck squawked loudly in protest.

“GOT IT!” Jack yelled from downstairs.

“Can we like… throw it back in the portal?” He asked.

“It could come back in. We don’t know where in the portal it came from.” Mom said, lowering the gun now that the duck had stopped trying to escape.

“You think another dimension?” He asked as they walked downstairs.

“Perhaps. For now we’ll put them in the holding pod and figure out what to do next.” Mom led him down to the lab.

When they got down there, he added the duck in his hands to the cell that housed the other duck. The other duck was differently colored from the first. It was black, with green feet, a green mask around its eyes, and red markings along its body. The duck seemed to be howling bloody murder.

“This one put up a fight!” Dad said proudly. “Too bad it’s not a ghost.”

“Great. I can go back to sleep now, right?” He asked tiredly.

“You sure you don’t want to help with the interdimensional search? You’ve always been the best at this.” Mom offered.

“No thanks.” He declined, yawning. “But if they’re still here when I wake up then I’ll help.”

“Okay. Good night, sweetie.” Mom kissed his forehead.

“Night mom, Night dad.” He waved as he walked back upstairs.

As soon as he got back upstairs, he found Clockwork sitting on his bed. He screamed in frustration.

[hyewka]

choi yeonjun. | c.yj

PAIRING ▸ bsf!yeonjun x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, smut, a bit of angst

SYNOPSIS ▸ in which getting your male friend prettied up for a party goes weirdly left.

WARNINGS ▸ sub!jjun, femdom, grinding, protected, dacryphilia 

NOTES ▸ parenthesis around an event refers to the past!! anyway its been like, a hundred years since ive gone ghost but i promised to come back with a fic and here i am!! its a silly best friends fic lol nothing more to it but i always enjoy any semblance of feedback, it'll motivate me greatly <3 enjoy this meal hehe.

tags: @soobhns (hope you enjoy it babes ^^)

"THE HELL'S YEONJUN DOING?"

You swirl your cup, tilting your head as you watch the new topic of your conversation touch up his hair a little too much, running a hand through his unruly strands as his legs barely work to have him stand up straight when a girl approaches him.

Mark looks concerned as he adds in, “And who the fuck got him in those bunny ears? Is it easter or something, geez”

You snort, your drink sputtering out of your mouth, spraying some of it on Taehyun. “Oh my god, Y/N, gross!” he groans loudly, jumping back as if he’s been hit by a water balloon.

“Sorry,” you giggle, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes still glued to Yeonjun. He’s fumbling awkwardly, trying to maintain a conversation with a girl who’s very clearly interested if the finger trail down his bicep was anything to go by. The rooftop air is especially chilly today, and you wonder if Yeonjun’s goosebumps are any visible to her. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, completely out of his element.

“It’s probably some stupid hazing shit, he never backs down from those.” Hyejoon mutters, scrolling away on her phone.

“But bunny ears? For hazing that seems weak as shit.” Mark responds, seemingly as interested on the train wreck thats about to ensue as you are. Then suddenly, he turns to you, eyes still trained on Yeonjun and the pretty girl. “Dude you’re practically his twin sister—why’s he acting like that?”

You cringe internally at that, smacking Mark’s arm. “Ow! The fuck?” he hisses, rubbing his arm. Twin sister? Oh god, you do not like that one bit.

Not at all. “Shut up Mark.” He only grumbles as he backs away.

You would rather shower in spoiled milk than be referred to as Yeonjun’s sister in any capacity—and it has absolutely nothing to do with what happened a few hours ago.

...It does add on to the grossness of it all though.

—4 hours ago …[5:21 PM]

The moment you step into his flat, you dash down the narrow hallway and into his room, launching yourself onto the bed with a triumphant yell. The plush mattress bounces slightly under your weight giving you a fleeting second of bliss before Yeonjun bursts in, diving towards you. "Not with your outside clothes!" he whines, trying to wrestle you off. "You're contaminating my sacred space!" he adds with mock seriousness, his efforts both frantic and hilarious.

You stick out your tongue childishly, and it serves the job to tick him off. “Man, you’re such a pain,” he groans.

“What should I do anyway? Change into PJ’s I haven’t brought along? Besides!” you retort, struggling to pull your makeup bag out from your tote while Yeonjun’s weight presses down on you. With a triumphant grin, you finally free it and wave it in front of his face. “Where are we supposed to do this then?”

He snorts. “The couch, duh.”

The mere thought of that dark green monstrosity, old and beat-up, sends a shiver down your spine. The last time you sat on it, its worn fabric had felt like sandpaper against your skin, and the patches of stuffing poking through made it seem like you were sitting on a nest of lumpy scars. You couldn't even sit through twenty minutes of the movie with Yeonjun before you had decided to move to the floor.

Your upper lip curls in distaste. “No chance. You need to switch that thing out ASAP.”

Yeonjun shrugs nonchalantly, clearly not as repulsed as you are. “What’s wrong with it? I mean, yeah, it’s seen better days, but it has character.”

“Character? More like a biohazard waiting to happen,” you say, grimacing. “I’m not risking sitting on that thing again. Also, get off, you're killing me.”

Yeonjun lets out a long, resigned sigh, knowing that arguing any further would be a losing battle. "Fine," he mutters, shifting his weight off you. "But at least take your shoes off. You're genuinely a psychopath," he adds.

You relent, rolling off the bed and kicking off your shoes with exaggerated care, just to appease him. Yeonjun narrows his eyes, silently watching you with a playful glint in his gaze, his arms crossed over his chest. You can almost see the gears turning in his head as he observes your antics. "What?" you finally ask, catching him off guard.

He blinks, momentarily flustered, then quickly averts his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Just counting down how many more years I have to deal with this," he says, gesturing vaguely at your exaggerated movements.

"Yeah, yeah," you say, waving your hand dismissively. "You know you love me."

"Keep telling yourself that," he replies, but his tone is light, the grumble fading away. You click your tongue, making sure to stick out a solid finger behind his back when he stands up to head to the bathroom. Prick.

But you can't keep up the act much longer when you look down at your outfit. It's not overly complicated but you still haven’t thanked him for helping you feel a lot more confident in it than you would've if he wasn't by your side ranting about silhouettes and all his other (not-so) stupid fashion advice.

With a sigh, you allow yourself to flop back onto his bed, your fingers sinking into the soft duvet. As you lay there, you take in the new decorations he's put up on his wall. He only recently moved here, and it's already looking a lot more like him than the last time you paid him a visit. The posters of his favorite bands, the quirky art pieces, and the sleek record player that sits atop a vintage-looking stand, surrounded by stacks of vinyl records—everything screams Yeonjun. Even the smell your brain finally registers as his signature scent subtly creeps up your nostrils; sandalwood, fresh linen and hints of citrus. It calms your nerves—like your body's trained to associate anything about Yeonjun with feeling safe.

You reach out for a familiar-looking photo strip on his desk, your finger stretching as far as it can until you manage to snatch it.

It's a sequence of three pictures of you and Yeonjun back in... high school? Freshman year considering you're sporting a terrible bowl cut that looks like it was done with a soup bowl and a pair of dull scissors. Yeonjun, on the other hand, smiles big with his braces, the metal gleaming under the photo booth's flash.

And just like that, you're suddenly reminded one thing; Yeonjun's always been there with you, for you.

("She's a total bitch anyway."

You gasp, hitting his arm. "What?!" he exclaims, affronted. "I'm starting to think you really enjoy abusing me."

"You just- you can't say that about women!" You try to sniff back the snot running down your nose, but it's futile.

He rolls his eyes. "She slept with Heeseung behind your back. Shes’ earned the title."

You shut your mouth and turn from him, not believing you're seriously trying to defend the ex-friend that had taken enough of a liking of your crush to sleep with him. It isn't the worst offense in the world but considering she's done it behind your back instead of telling you upfront...it leaves a bitter enough taste in your mouth to end the friendship altogether.

"I...really liked her, and I really liked him," you mutter, the admission feeling heavier than you'd expected. "Do you think I'm being childish? It's not like I was dating him or anything."

Yeonjun wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in as he taps his hand rhythmically against your arm.

The summer heat lingers in the air, the warmth from the sun-baked concrete seeping through your clothes. You can feel the rough texture of the sidewalk under your palms, gritty and familiar. "Nope. Feelings are valid."

A silence overtakes you both as you watch the fifth car drive by you. Distant chirping of crickets mingle with the occasional rustle of leaves in the slight breeze. The neighborhood is alive with the soft, ambient sounds of summer nights: a dog barking in the distance, the faint laughter of kids playing a few houses down, the low murmur of a television through an open window.

Suddenly, he tightens his arm around you, providing a comforting squeeze. You lean into him, finding comfort in his presence.

"You know I'd never do that to you, right?" he says softly, breaking the silence.

You look up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully, "Sleep with my male crush? I've always questioned, I don't know."

He gives you a betrayed look and you burst out laughing.)

It's weird how often you reminisce about the past...especially these past few months; sappy and overly sentimental shit that you try not to dwell on every time you hang out. Is this how old people feel?

There's always a time and place, it's just not when he farts into a pillow and practically Dutch ovens you with it. Now, that memory you'd rather attempt to forget as you close your eyes, throwing the photo strip back on his desk exhaustingly.

You don't notice that he's out until you feel water dripping onto your skin. Your eyes shoot open in horror, seeing his face inches from yours, freshly washed and hair slightly damp. He's leaning over you with a look of resignation mixed with amusement, a towel slung over his shoulder. "Enjoy your nap?" he asks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face before he shakes his head vigorously, sending a shower of water droplets from his hair onto your face.

You yelp and scramble up, swatting at the water droplets. "Yeonjun, seriously?" you sputter, wiping your face. "You're such a child!"

"That's ironic because you're even more of a child!" he rebuts with a pout, mimicking a petulant toddler. Talk about ironic. You narrow your eyes at him before exhaling sharply out of your nose, sitting up to make room for him on the bed.

He plops down beside you and it takes you a second to take your eyes off his face—freshly scrubbed and still slightly damp—before remembering why you're here in the first place. Makeup.

Right, makeup.

—3 hours and 12 minutes ago …[6:09 PM]

It was over seven months ago when you and Choi Yeonjun, slightly drunk off soju and beer, were giggling uncontrollably over the dumbest jokes in the dead of night with Beomgyu, his (now ex-) roommate, passed out on the floor. Turns out, shaky hands proved to be absolute dog shit when it came to drawing a straight line. You had silently panicked as you attempted to clean up the eyeliner that you've horrendously drawn on. You had really, really wanted him to like it.

Originally, it started off as a way to tease him, begging to apply eyeliner and some eyeshadow on his lids because you think he’d look gorgeous with them, to which his lips quirked up to, whining about how no man wants to be called ‘gorgeous’ and oh how emasculating it was. Plus, Yeonjun had an inkling your intentions were far less innocent than you let on.

When he finally surrendered around... the sixth time you bring the whole thing up, you admit that your idea of making him look like a clown and getting a good laugh out of his reaction moves itself out of your thoughts the moment he ushers you to scoot next to him and work your magic... whatever that meant.

But hey, it all worked itself out. Oddly enough, from that day on, you think putting makeup on Yeonjun quickly became one of your favorite pastimes beating your recent liking to duck herding (yes, it's a real thing you've spent way too much of your time investing in).

You like to think he enjoys it to some extent too, given the number of times he's let you practice on him, even if he would never admit it outright. But regardless of how relaxing you think it might be for him, he seems to go out of his way to make it as tedious as possible for you.

Every time you start working on his makeup, he fidgets and squirms like a restless child. He'll make funny faces just as you're about to apply eyeliner, or he'll suddenly sneeze, causing a puff of powder to explode into the air. Thankfully it doesn't last long, he either tires himself out or feels too bad to continue torturing your patience. Either way, you appreciate doing this for him a lot more when he's half asleep and relatively still.

Like now for example.

You're like, 99% sure he's dozed off. Considering he's spent the week cooped up in his apartment studying his ass off for two exams, it's not very surprising the all-nighters are catching up to him. Which is exactly why you're wondering the reason hes' chosen to go out to this party anyway.

His breathing is slow and steady, and his head lolls slightly to the side.

Just as you start to apply a touch of blush, his voice breaks the silence. "Don't make it look too obvious."

You’re caught off guard that he's in fact not asleep. "I won't."

"And no crazy blue tint."

You groan, pulling away from his face. Not this again. "C'mon, I only did that once and you've been holding it over my head for three months dude."

He cracks open one eye, peering at you with a mix of exhaustion and amusement. "You made me look like a smurf."

"It was artistic!" you splutter, not believing you're back to arguing about this again. "And you looked good!"

Suddenly, his mouth closes and he cocks his brow. Then his lips twitch into a suppressed smile.

He closes his eyes fully, trying to hide his amusement. "There's absolutely no way you just let that get into your head." you whisper, truly astonished at who you've chosen to be acquainted with for more than half of your life.

"Blah, blah, blah," he mutters, waving a hand dismissively before settling back into the pillow, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know I'm handsome, thank you for the reminder."

You open your mouth to retort, then close it…open it again…and close it once more, dumbfounded. Yeonjun's insufferable when it comes to anything that has to do with his face. His ego is practically impossible to pop.

But if you had to be completely honest with yourself, you don't blame him. You especially don't now as you try to ignore the fact that he's staring you down while you apply tint to his infuriatingly perfect shaped lips. You would never admit that one out loud.

Or the fact that you've thought about kissing Yeonjun a dozen times in the past. You seem to have some weird fixation on them. You would even go as far as to replace thought with imagine. Hell, you’ve been friends for ten years, it would’ve been odd if you hadn’t at least once...right?

It's normal.

("You're weird."

You snap your head around to him, frankly offended, "What?" Is there even a chance of enjoying a party with this nuisance by your side?

"Don't act dumb, you've been staring at my lips the entire night." Yeonjun tilts his head, puckering his lips, "Trying to kiss?"

You're horrified as you blink rapidly, your cheeks burning red, completely caught off guard. "N-no? How drunk are you?"

"That was a no with a question mark. We can try it out if you want." He shrugged, leaning in closer to you, of course with his lips annoyingly puckered and his eyes closed.

You're standing in the cramped kitchen of a typical frat house, the air thick with the smell of spilled beer and cheap cologne. The counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and discarded food wrappers.

Without thinking, you had grabbed the nearest drink and thrown it at him. The cold liquid had splashed across his chest, soaking his second favorite shirt. You know it's his second favorite because he's managed to pester you about it two years after this incident.)

You don’t necessarily like Yeonjun; hell no, you just absolutely appreciatively despise how well he's grown. He’s always looked cute—you distinctly remember the countless girls who handed you notes for him in elementary school or some who've befriended you in high school to try and get his number. You just never reckoned you’d be one of the girls checking him out.

As you finish applying the clear gloss to his lips, you can’t help but let your gaze linger. His eyes are closed and his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks, and those lips— god damn it are they stupidly inviting.

You gulp down the irrational thoughts bubbling up, trying to focus on anything but the quickening of the beating in your chest. You’ve always been the one in control, the one who didn’t fall for his charms like everyone else. Is this a side effect of being under a dry spell for longer than a month? Being stuck in the unfavorable position of lusting over your long time best friend?

That must be it because when he flutters his eyes open, the world seems to pause. Just for a second, all that fills your thoughts is just how absolutely gorgeous he looks. It hurts.

“Done,” you whisper, your voice barely steady. "Went with the au naturelle look, per request."

“Thanks,” he replies softly, his smile warm and genuine. But then you're sitting there longer than you intend to and the silence stretches out longer than appropriate, and he snorts lightly. "What?"

You blink out of your daze, shaking your head, laughing airily. “Nothing." You clear your throat, awkward. "You just look... pretty.”

But then his reaction to that pulls you right back in your trance. For the first time, a cheeky reply doesn’t leave his lips. Instead, he’s silent and he looks…shy. That's new.

“Gorgeous,” you correct yourself, nodding. “You look pretty gorgeous.” Can you say that? You don't have a clue.

“Aren’t you just complimenting your makeup skills?” He teases, though it doesn’t nearly have the same effect as it usually does when his eyes are so doe-like, giving him a weirdly innocent look. 

You would never describe Yeonjun as a puppy, but if you had to before this, he'd be more like an annoying chihuahua. Right now, he's anything but. He looks innocent. Innocent and beautiful, like a hybrid mix of an angelic, golden retriever. "Besides, maybe not the ideal impression I want to make tonight. Does that whole pretty boy thing work with women? We're probably not that advanced into the world yet. Hey! You're a woman so you should know; do you think it's going to be a little threatening or—"

His rambling fades out by like, the first word— you think you might as well just be under a spell. Because once again, you find your gaze's zeroing in on his plump, pink lips.

Fuck... should you just go for it?

Your heart races, pounding in your ears, and every rational thought slowly slips away to go knows where, leaving behind only the burning desire to close the distance between you.

Just as you lean in, a phone dings, shattering the moment. Yeonjun’s eyes flicker towards the sound, subtly breaking the spell.

He pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with a slight frown. “Taehyun said in the group chat that he’d pick us up.” He whispers. “Meaning I don’t have to drive or anything, yay.”

You smile in response, or try to as you try to gather your scattered thoughts.

“When’s he coming?”

“Uh, hold on. Let me ask.” You should move away, just a little further—you really, really should. Take your chance now and go to the bathroom to calm yourself down. It's the combination of Yeonjun being unfairly attractive, the fact that you haven't had sex in ages, and the proximity. If you eliminate one of those factors, you won't make the huge mistake you're so, so close to making.

But…you don’t want to. You don't want to ignore the burning desire of jumping his bones right this moment...for lack of better words.

“He hasn't even showered yet, Jesus christ.” Yeonjun snickers, looking down at his phone then back up at you. His squeaky laugh dies down pretty quickly when he notices you aren't sharing the humor, silently putting his phone face down on the bedside table. “What?” he says again. The shy expression’s back, his eyebrows tilt up and he looks like a damn kicked puppy…exactly your type.

Your eyes twitch and narrow with hesitation as you bite the inside of your cheeks; this feels wrong. You could stop it from going any further, keep your juvenile attraction from altering anything between you and Yeonjun. But when his tongue flicks out to wet his pink lips, you curse the gods for making the forbidden apple irresistibly tempting.

"Your teeth are pretty."

He furrows his brows, clearly taken aback. "That's an odd thing to—"

"I like it when you smile," you blurt out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"...Th...ank you?" He stammers, confusion mixed with curiosity in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, then out. "Yeonjun. Can I fuck you?"

He blinks. It’s silent as his eyes dart around like this is some elaborate prank, expecting a group of people to pop out with a camera in his face. You can see the visible gulp in his throat, his fingers hesitantly toying with the hem of your shorts, showing that he absolutely knew jack shit what to do with his hands. “Can you what?” He laughs nervously.

You've always imagined how it'd be like to kiss Choi Yeonjun.

And now that you’re experiencing it, all thoughts about this being a silly little thing you’ve entertained ever so rarely, hits the fan.

He feels against you like everything you imagined and more; the pillowy softness of his plump lips that feels so comfortable as they open slightly more each time it could lull you to sleep. His breathing that comes out in short gasps the harder you press yourself against him, having you dig your nails further into his face. His pitched whines drowned out by your feverish lips as you kiss him over and over again, feeling yourself get hooked by the minute.

You should stop. You should.

That’s what you plan to do when you finally pull away from the kiss, wipe your lips of any remnants of him, get off the bed and sprint the hell out of his house, then preferably find a way to blame it on female hormones or whatever. College guys never question that, do they?

But for the second time tonight, your mind draws blank and your eyes are stuck to his face, the slight smudge of the tint you applied and his heavy lidded eyes, his rising chest, the print of your nails showing up red on his cheeks…God, you’ve got absolutely no self control. “Um, do... that?” You breathe out.

You haven't entertained the idea that he might reject your advances, until now that is. And then what you've just done would probably be counted as assault. And it'd be too awkward to speak ever again and oh god, what the fuck have you done—

Your reverie's broken when Yeonjun suddenly leans in, capturing your lips in another kiss. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer before he finally moves you to straddle his lap, the initial hesitation gone. The intensity of his response takes you by surprise, but you quickly melt into it, your body responding to him with an urgency that matches his own. The makeup kit gets knocked off the bed in your fervor, and neither of you care.

“Yeonjun. We—we won’t do this again right?” You ask, breathless, as you start to roll your hips slightly into him in an attempt of reliving that incessant need at your core.

“Yeah…yeah.” he sighs out, seemingly a goner when you increase even just a bit of friction.

“This is like, totally a one time thing that we’d just randomly bring up in a game of truth or dare as a fun anecdote and—and we’d be like those cool best friends with a cool little platonic relationship that’ve hooked up once. Totally normal.” you ramble, your resolve breaking as you grind against his rapidly growing boner. “Right?”

“Mm, totally.” he whines, his eyes heavy with lust. He looks completely consumed by the sensation he’s feeling and it fuels your desire for him tenfold. You kiss him again, your noses bumping against each other as you take his pretty lips in yours over and over again. You pull away slightly enough to catch your breath, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips, glistening in the dim light. Your faces are only inches apart, so close you can hear the gulp he takes, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.

"Whatever you say." he murmurs, his voice husky.

Oh. Oh.

This is totally unfair.

You brush your thumb gently across his bottom lip, savoring the way he shivers under your touch. "Whatever I say, huh?”

He nods slightly, “Yeah.”

You bite your lip before deciding to trail kisses down his jawline, your breath hot against his skin. You can feel his pulse quickening beneath your touch, the small gasp escaping his lips as you press a lingering kiss just below his ear is something you can only describe as maddening to your state. “You’re sensitive,” you note lightly before continuing your journey down his neck. 

You gulp when he decides on finally gripping your ass, taking a bit of control on your pace. He rolls his head back slightly, chuckling, “Fuck, gonna make me nut in my pants if you keep goin’ like that.”

You need to hear more of the whining, more of his cute noises and more of his pathetic display. You want to hear him beg.

“Hands off.”

Clarity washes over his eyes a little more as he falters, his hands lessening its grip, blinking perplexed. The innocent looks back almost immediately and it drives you insane. “Keep them above your head, you don’t get to touch me unless I tell you to.”

You don’t wait for a reply before immediately sinking down to nip at his neck again, soothing the spot with your tongue, and he gasps. Yeonjun whines like earlier and it’s so …primal. Actually you don’t even think he would’ve protested in the first place because he seems entirely fine like this, completely at your disposal as his moans start to pick up intensity way quicker than you anticipated. 

"Holy shit," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. "You’re driving me crazy."

You smile against his skin, leaving one last kiss before pulling back to meet his eyes, which he visibly pouts at. You cup his cheeks. "I know. But don’t get too excited just yet.”

He lightly scoffs, “Way to stroke your ego.”

“Learned from the best.” you retort, your hands moving quickly to unbuckle his jeans.

His breath hitches as he watches you. “Are we really going... all the way?”

You pause, raising a brow, searching his eyes for any hesitation. “...Do you not want to?”

“Condoms in second drawer.”

—2 hours and 1 minute ago …[7:20 PM]

“P-please...please. Please. Move. Just a little." he hiccups the last plea, his tear stained face buried in your neck. "You're s-so fucking cruel," he says, his voice muffled.

"Sorry, I kinda like it when you're crying."

His breath shudders against your skin; you can feel his desperation, his need, and it sends a thrilling rush through you. You gently pull back, just enough to see his face, his eyes wet with unshed tears, his lips parted in a silent plea.

Slowly, deliberately, you let your hands trace the lines of his body, feeling the tension and desire coiled tightly beneath his skin. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, savoring the soft gasp that escapes him. "My jjunie's such a good boy," you drawl.

He trembles under your touch, his hands gripping you tighter, silently begging for more. You move your hips up slightly, just enough to elicit a strangled moan from him, the sound raw and needy.

"Do you like it when I make you cry?" you murmur against his ear, your voice a sultry whisper.

He nods frantically, unable to form words, his breath hot and ragged. The sight of him so vulnerable, so utterly at your mercy, ignites a fierce desire within you. You bite your lip, relishing the power you hold over him, the way his body responds to your every touch, every whisper.

"Are you usually like this?" you suddenly muster to ask, finding too much enjoyment playing with this poor boy.

He only whines as a response and you laugh, increasing your pace on his cock as you go up and down. "Y'know...so pliable."

Yeonjun bites back a sob of pain, feeling like he's going to die from the power he’s exerting to hold back. He grips onto the sheets, his fingers turning white from the strain. "Aw, look at you, poor baby. Am I going too slow?"

He nods again, more vigorously this time, drool seeping out the edge of his lips as his mouth hangs open, thinking you're going to spare him just a bit.

If you're going to do this once with him, you'd rather do anything but.

His face falls when you suddenly stop, his eyes blown wide, hair a disheveled mess; he looks absolutely debauched. This time more closely resembling a fallen angel. "Fuck me on your own if I'm so bad at this."

"I didn't- you're not bad at-" even when he tries to respond, he doesn't hesitate to try and switch positions, but you immediately put a stop to it, pressing him back down firmly. "No. I'll still be on top."

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, eyes wide. "Then... how?"

You shrug, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Figure it out."

You gasp when he starts massaging your breasts, not expecting the sudden touch. "You're the worst," he moans against your tit once he engulfs your nipple in his mouth, suckling rather roughly while simultaneously raising his hips off the bed, struggling to slam his cock in a fitting pace.

His bangs fall over his eyes, and his lips are swollenly red from how hard he's bitten them. You would label his determination adorable if it wasn't for the fact that you currently had him stretching your pussy out.

"Yeah— but probably the best fuck you've had in a while." you manage to grit out.

"You humor yourself."

You can't take him too seriously when his words are so slurred and barely coherent with how eager he is to bury himself between your tits and lather them with his spit.

"You're such a dog," you purr, "C'mon, don't give up on me doggy. I can tell you're just desperate to let it all out."

He groans, sucking harder as he starts up again, frantically fucking up into you. You can tell hes already a goner when his eyes start to roll to the back of his head, the moans of your name short and incessant.

"Don't get dumb on me already."

He whispers sorry's over and over again, nodding his head.

"Fuck--f-fuck, why're you doing this to me?” his breath hitches, whining like a baby. What you're completely unaware of as you get lost in your pleasure— the last thing Choi Yeonjun wants is to get out of this looking like a desperate bitch. Especially to you.

But he simply can't help it.

Hes' never been under these circumstance. Hes never sounded like this for any girl, hes never let himself get this vulnerable. And for it to be during sex? It's the closest thing to a nightmare.

But he can't dwell on those thoughts when you lean over to his ear, showering him with praises on how pretty he looks and oh how well he's doing. That he's just getting you so fucking close.

When you pull away again, the only thing that's on his mind is just how...pretty you look.

“B-bet you tell other guys that all the time,” his smirk twitches at that, getting himself worked up.

You tilt your head. “Calling them pretty?” you implore, rolling his nipples between your fingers just to elicit that perfect reaction from him; he gives you just as much, half gasping half moaning against his better will, “A few, yeah” you tease.

That doesn't seem to be the right thing to say because his face immediately falls and your intention of having light banter goes to the back burner as you slightly panic, feeling bad and kissing him in attempt of making it up to him non verbally. But that doesn't do the job because the moment you pull away, he's still frowning.

You sigh, rubbing your thumb on his cheek affectionately, "But you're the one I'm most honest about."

He doesn't hesitate to lean into the familiar touch, and you can't help but coo at how cute he's acting. "You mean that?"

You press your forehead to his, your breath mingling with his, and nod. "Mhm, the prettiest."

That does it.

Slowly, he starts to thrust upward, trying to match the rhythm he had previously set. You can feel his desperation, his need to please you, and it sends a thrill through your body.

"That's it," you purr, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Show me how badly you want it baby."

He groans, the new angle allowing him to hit deeper inside you with each thrust. His hands find their way to your hips, guiding you to move with him. You can feel the tension in his body, every muscle working to bring you both closer to the edge. You purposefully clench around his swollen cock and he buries his head against you again. You let him as you thread through his hair.

"You feel so good, you smell so good, you—" he breathes, his voice trembling with the effort. "Please, let me—fuck, cum please—c-can't hold it any longer."

You press your lips to his neck, sucking lightly as you murmur, "Not yet, baby. I want to feel you beg for it."

His thrusts become more frantic under you, the sound of skin slapping against skin being proof, his breath coming out hot and ragged against your skin. "Please," he begs sweetly, his voice a desperate whisper. "I need it so bad. Please, let me cum. I'll do anything."

Your own desire reaches a fever pitch as you watch him unravel beneath you. "Anything?" you tease.

"Anything," he repeats, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with a mixture of desperation and adoration.

With a wicked smile, you finally relent, moving your hips in sync with his thrusts, the friction building to an unbearable intensity. "Cum for me," you command, your voice low and sultry. "Now."

His body tenses, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he finally lets go, the release hitting him with shuddering force. The sight of him coming undone beneath you pushes you over the edge, your own climax ripping through you, leaving you both breathless and trembling.

"Holy shit."

You chuckle, collapsing to his side, both of you now staring at the ceiling. But slowly, the realization starts to set in.

You just...had sex with Choi Yeonjun. Whatever bliss you were stuck in, dissipates as nut clarity takes over. You just fucked your best friend. And even worse, you dirty talked. Suddenly, you feel shame and embarrassment course through your bloodstream, making your cheeks burn and your stomach twist.

"D-did you... like, cum?"

You avoid eye contact, preferring the staring contest you're having with his stupid ceiling as you wrap your naked body with his sheets. "Yep."

An awkward silence hangs between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You can feel his eyes on you, searching for something, but you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, counting the imperfections in the paint.

"Splendid," he finally says, the word hanging in the air.

Splendid...splendid?

You burst out in a fit of giggles, unable to hold it back. The look of disbelief on your face is mirrored by the amusement in his eyes. "Splendid? Really?" you manage to say between giggles, your body shaking with laughter.

He blushes, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "What? I use big words when I'm nervous."

"Splendid's a big word to you?"

"Okay, low blow."

"Man, just pass me my clothes," you laugh, shifting to sit up on the bed. The blanket is draped over your chest, and you look at him expectantly as he fetches the ones that got on the floor.

He watches you, a slight smile playing on his lips, but confusion clouds your eyes. What's he expecting? "Turn around."

He looks even more puzzled as he says, "But we just had sex. Like penis in vagina sex. I saw it all."

"Yeah, and never again, Yeonjun," you retort, still giggling as you reach out for your clothes. "Just turn around."

He rolls his eyes but obliges. "Fine, fine. I’m turning around."

You quickly gather your clothes, slipping into them while keeping an eye on his back. "Damn, so that really was just a one-time thing."

"Mhm," you hum, then get off his bed fully dressed to go to his bathroom and at least make your hair look presentable. As you run a brush through your hair, you glance at your reflection, shaking your head at the state you're currently in.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun is still in bed, naked and absolutely spent, watching you as you step out of the bathroom, heading to his closet to fetch him some pants since ...there's a big wet spot on the ones he was going to wear to the party. As you rummage through the closet, something catches your eye, and you pull out a pair of familiar bunny ears.

Your bunny ears from high school.

You come out of the closet, holding the ears up with a look of surprise. "You still have this?"

Yeonjun glances over, his eyes widening in recognition before he breaks into a sheepish grin. "Oh, those. Yeah, I found them a while back and couldn't bring myself to throw them away."

You break into a grin, walking over to the bed, playfully placing the bunny ears on his head. "You look ridiculous," you laugh, pulling out your phone to take pictures of him.

He groans but doesn’t stop you, knowing it's futile. "Great, now you're going to have blackmail material for life."

You snap a few photos, giggling at how silly he looks. "Oh, absolutely. These are going to come in handy."

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly as the ears flop around. "Just promise you won't show them to anyone. My reputation can't handle it."

You laugh, tucking your phone back into your pocket. "Don't worry, these are just for me."

See?

You and Yeonjun are just fine. Was it a little awkward the first few seconds? Sure. But there's absolutely nothing in the world that can get in the between of you two.

—present …[9:24 PM]

Noticing how much more comfortable he seems now, everything else fades into background noise— he’s almost right back to his usual self. Something about that bothers you as you take a big gulp of your drink, feeling the burn as it slides down your throat. Suddenly, you stand up, blinking away the dizziness. “I need to sober up. Hyejoon, come with me to the bathroom.”

“Huh? Oh, okay.”

It’s a hassle to find the bathroom, but when you do, you quickly lock the door behind you and your friend. You rush to the mirror, staring at your reflection before turning on the water to wash your face.

What’s wrong with you? Is there something wrong with you? It must be the alcohol.

“You feeling alright?” she whispers, her brows furrowing in concern.

You splash your face with freezing water over and over again, trying to snap out of it. The one question that plagues your thoughts over and over again feels dooming; did you make a mistake?

“Hey,” she pulls you back to face her. “Are you okay?”

You stare at her in silence for a bit until you end up cracking a firm smile, “Yeah, just needed to get my head out of the gutter.”

[deakyjoe]

Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

[wososcripts]

Face to Face (IV)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: An attempt to make amends.

A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay

Word Count: 3k

Warnings ⚠️: none?

PREVIOUS PART

The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.

She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.

It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.

“Hi…” Frido said softly.

You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.

“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.

You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.

“How are you feeling?”

Her careful, soft tone enraged you.

“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”

You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.

“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”

Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.

“Okay.”

She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.

Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.

"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.

"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."

Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.

"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."

"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.

The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.

Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Keep trying."

With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.

"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."

Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.

"All right."

-

"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.

Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.

"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.

Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.

"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."

Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.

"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."

There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.

"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."

Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.

"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."

The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.

"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."

Ingrid was silent.

"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."

Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.

"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"

Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.

"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."

Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.

-

That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.

There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.

But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.

She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?

Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.

Her mind, however, had different plans.

In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.

Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.

Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.

When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.

How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?

If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.

Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.

-

It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.

You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.

Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.

The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.

This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?

- Fridolina

The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.

Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.

"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."

Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.

Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.

-

The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.

Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.

"I don't think I've been here before."

"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."

The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.

"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.

You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.

You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.

"I'll pay, please."

You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.

Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.

"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.

"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."

You sat quietly.

"Just for the concussion you gave me?"

Frido hesitated.

"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."

"That's it?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."

Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.

"Can I drive you back?"

You shook your head.

"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."

Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.

"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."

-

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.

How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.

The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.

Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.

"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"

You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.

"Come, let's sit down."

You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.

"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."

Alexia shook her head.

"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"

"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."

"Let what get like this? The accident?"

You shook your head.

"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."

Alexia looked at you, surprised.

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."

Alexia took your hand.

"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."

"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."

You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.

Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.

"You and Frido?"

"It was a mistake."

[fir3ylolol]

smile! you're on camera

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Staying at Johnny's house is really nice, except...something feels a little off. You find out the hard way when you decide to entertain yourself on the couch.

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, oral sex, masturbation, accidental voyeurism, making out, face fucking, sex tape, dom/sub, switch!reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!reader, sex in a theater, i physically cant write men who dont whine, he needs pussy!, afab!reader, he wants you so bad omg, smut, shameless smut, porn with light plot

a/n: hehehehehehe...this is inspired by the voice clip in the invasion mode of mk1 where he says he has cameras everywhere. ive been rly inspired lately, but im gna open up requests on here soon, so keep an eye outtt

word count: 2.63 k

Ao3

Something was really off about Cage’s house. After coming back from the tournament and training, you weren’t ready to get back to normal life. And Johnny had offered you a starring role in the movie he was planning to make about Outworld. You accepted quickly, after making sure you wouldn’t have to get naked or be a horrible person or anything like that. But rent is rough, and Johnny is so generous as to let you stay at his place.

His casual, gigantic mansion-y place.

But it was nice. You had your own space, a full fridge, and could still ignore things like work for a bit longer. Plus, Johnny was a surprisingly great host, hosting movie nights in his private theater. Everything was great, except…

You always felt like someone was watching you. As long as you weren’t in your room or the bathroom, it felt like there were eyes on you. Getting a drink of water? It’s there. Sitting on the couch? Being watched. Just wandering into a room? Oh yeah, you for sure feel it. But you brush it off and don’t bother to say anything to Johnny. You figure it’s just dumb paranoia.

After about 2 weeks without any work from Johnny, you’re getting bored. He’s never home, he has work to do and a movie to plan. So you sit around the mansion all day, waiting. Usually, you read, watch stuff, or even just take laps around the house for exercise. But today, you’re just scrolling through social media. Even that is boring to you today. You decide that, hey, you can think of a good way to pass the time. For a quick moment, you forget about feeling watched. Your fingers dip below your waistband, shivering at your touch. It’s been a long time, you’ve been training and then living in someone else’s house. When would you have the chance?

Slowly, you begin to tease yourself, fingers circling your clit. It’s quite embarrassing how much it affects you, but you’ve lost your ability to feel shame. You lose yourself in your actions, whimpers and moans echoing through the empty house. Unable to stop yourself, you finish with an almost violent snap, panting harshly. Pulling your hand out, you finally feel embarrassed, with how fast you were, and how hard you came. Shakily, you stand up and walk towards the bathroom to wash your hands.

You've forgotten what you did by the time Johnny gets home that evening. Smiling as he walks in, a grocery bag in one hand. “Here comes Mr. Celebrity to pass out treats to us poor folk,” you throw your hands out in a joking manner. But there’s a weird look in his eyes, not matching his characteristic smile. “It’s movie night, I had to make sure we had enough snacks,” he walks towards the kitchen, you shortly behind. “Oh yeah! What’s the movie tonight?” You lean against the counter, searching through the bag.

“The Thing. We haven’t done any horror movies yet.” He grabs a glass of water, drinking deeply. But that look is still there. It almost scares you away at how sharp it is. “Ah, ok. Well…I guess I’ll see you then.” You back out of the room, almost running when you’re out of his sight. Catching your breath in your room, confusion floods your mind. Did you do something wrong? Is he tired of having you here? All you can do is wait and wonder until tonight.

And tonight comes much too fast. You find yourself stumbling into the theater room, meeting Johnny’s eyes as you walk in. But he seems much happier. Maybe he was just tired after work. As you get settled, a bag of snacks next to your leg. As Johnny starts the movie and turns the lights down, you start to get nervous. What if he’s mad at you? He is pretty rich, if he wants you dead, it wouldn’t take long.

But Johnny sits next to you, settling down and looking towards you. You try not to look at him, fearing that you might meet a cold gaze. Unable to stop yourself though, your eyes meet his. The weird look is still there, no longer hidden under sunglasses and smiles. Ever the considerate movie-watcher, he leans in to whisper in your ear. “So, did you have a good day? It must get lonely here.” Trying to stay calm, you whisper back, “It was ok, I can’t complain. Was your day ok?”

“Yeah, more progress made on my movie. Studios are eating it up. But…” He pauses, looking at the screen shortly before looking back to you. “I did see a very interesting movie on break.” Turning fully, you look at him confusedly. What in the hell was he talking about? “Oh yeah? What was it?”

“Well, you know, I do have cameras set up like everywhere, right?”

Oh shit.

Your entire face drops, frozen in shock. You finally remember the fun you had earlier on the couch. The watched feeling finally makes sense. “O-oh…” You stumble over yourself trying to think of excuses. This is humiliating. But Johnny doesn’t falter like you. He pauses the movie, reaching his hand out and taking yours to pull your focus back to him.

“You put on quite a show for me, you know?” You finally recognize the look in his eyes. It’s intense curiosity and...lust? “Only wish I knew what you were thinking about. Care to enlighten me?” He leans slightly closer, hot breath fanning over you. Swallowing hard, you try to avoid his intense stare. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I was just…bored?” He laughs slightly, holding your other hand. “Really? I was sorta hoping you were thinking of me, but that’s a little selfish, huh?”

“H-huh? What? Do…do you think of me like that?” You fluster further at his words. “Maybe…does that bother you?” He falters slightly, realizing that he might be making you uncomfortable. But you can't stop yourself from blurting out, “No! It doesn't bother me. I-” Cutting you off, Johnny leans in closer, lips an inch apart. “Then what's the problem?” You swallow hard, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from his eyes to his mouth, and finally answer.

“I just don't know what to do when fantasy becomes reality.”

Luckily for you, Johnny knows.

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you like your life depended on it. You wrap your hands behind his neck and lean back, pulling him impossibly closer. Your tongues dance against each other, lips crashing. Suddenly, you get a surge of confidence, one that defies your previous apprehension. One of your hands slips down his chest slowly, inching along until you reach his growing bulge. He pulls back slightly, panting and staring directly into your eyes. “H-hey now, you’re not playing fair,” he manages to get out, slightly whining at your touch. 

“You started it, watching me like that,” you whisper in his ear, fingers slowly rubbing along his waistband. He gasps lightly, head turning away from you. “You liked it, right? Did you touch yourself watching it?” Your fingers move further past his waist, inching towards his cock. “C’mon, you can tell me,” your voice almost sing-songy and teasing. He manages to stutter out a shaky “y-yeah” as you continue down. But you suddenly stop, much to his disappointment.

Instead, you move to kneel in between his legs, looking up at him with sultry eyes. He looks slightly confused until you undo his pants button. Biting his lip, he watches you with intense, pleading eyes. You lean up, taking the zipper of his fly in your mouth and undoing it. He looks like he could honestly cum right now, but you won't let him. As you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs, his cock springs up, the tip angry and weeping. He blushes at the sight of himself like this and you, looking up at him with his hard dick right in front of you.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, stroking him a few times. You just want to watch him squirm and squirm he does. He is whining, head turning back and forth, with one hand on his thigh and the other over his mouth. You kiss the underside, looking up at him through your lashes. With a muffled moan, he looks away again, face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. Slowly licking at the tip, watching as he continues unraveling, you finally take him in your mouth. You fit as much as you can at first, reveling in the loud gasp you earn from him. You continue a relentless pace, gently massaging his balls as well. 

This pleasure is intense for Johnny, so much so that he’s starting to tear up, eyes welling up as he holds back as many sounds as he can. But that only lasts so long as you lift your head off him, taking a deep breath and rasping out, “Do you wanna come, baby? Huh? Then come on, fuck my face like a good boy.” 

You go further down this time, causing him to jump at the feeling. Scurried hands grab at your head as he's bent forward, bucking at a frenzied pace. Loud, slutty moans roll from his lips as he loses himself in the feeling. And as you kneel there, trying to stay there for as long as possible, you feel yourself growing wetter. You did this to him, got him so riled up that he could barely control himself. Amongst his hurried moves, you manage to push past your gag reflex and fully take his entire cock down your throat. A loud, long breathy moan is all Johnny can get out as he almost immediately cums at the feeling. Focusing on holding your breath until you can no longer feel him pulsing in your throat, you savor his sounds, his whines, whimpers, moans.

As you move up, taking a deep breath, you admire him in the lowlights. His face flushed and sweaty, eyes rolled back in his head, usually perfect hair messed up. Beautiful. But he only stays like that for so long, because you move up to kiss him. As if his body is reacting without him thinking, he wraps one hand behind your back and uses one to tangle in your hair. After a short kiss, he pulls away. You manage to half-whisper “That was quite a show you put on,” chuckling afterward.

Johnny lazily motions for you to sit next to him, and you oblige. But before you’re even fully down, he's on you, kissing and pulling you closer. Now it's his turn to tease, fingers traveling under your shirt to play with your nipples. You let out light gasps at the feeling, as Johnny starts to bite and suck at your neck.

Mumbling against your skin, you can hear him say, “I'll give you a show.” He manages to pull your shirt off before you even realize what's happening, his eyes still desperate and wanting. He has no grace or subtlety as he pulls your pants and underwear off, he doesn't want to wait any longer than he has to. Shrugging his shirt and pants fully off, he stares at you intensely. He moves a finger to swipe across your wetness, knees buckling slightly as he feels you. He leans in against your chest, beginning to beg. “Please, please, I wanna be inside you, love. I wanna give you a real show, show how good I can be. Please?” God, he's kind of pathetic like this. It's hot.

With a quick nod, he springs up. He wastes no time as he practically lifts you and turns you around. Now, with your hands grasping the back of your seat and ass in the air, Johnny leans over you and presses against your back. Kissing between your shoulder blades, he slowly moves his hips to yours, cock gently rubbing against your wet pussy. Unable to control himself, his hips buck at the sensation, earning a groan from both of you. Face still against your back, you feel him lightly bite you, trying to ground himself. 

Finally, he manages to calm himself, standing up and taking a deep breath. After a pause, he lines himself up and pushes in slowly. With a long whine, he manages to bury himself inside you, pausing to adjust. With a strained voice, he quietly says, “Oh god, you feel so good, squeezing against my cock like that. I’m already sensitive, you know.” After a short pause, he starts to move, mesmerized by the way your ass bounces against him. “Shit, I should’ve fucked you earlier. I’ve been missing out,” he manages to get out as he speeds up, reveling in the way you mewl under him.

He’s moving at a breakneck pace now, gripping your hips desperately, and sputtering out praise. Without slowing, his hands shoot out, wrapping around your neck and grabbing your jaw. He’s using your head as leverage, but he manages to fuck you even deeper. He gently turns your head to the back corner of the theater, lightly slapping your cheek to get your attention. “See right there? That’s where the camera is. Go ahead, put on a show, baby.” Despite his confident words, his voice is higher than normal and breathy. His words shoot straight to your dripping pussy, clenching even tighter around him. His hips buck in as he laughs slightly. “You like that? You like being my own personal pornstar? Then come on, let me see it. Get louder, these mics only pick up so much. Don’t hold back, yeah?” 

You decide that he’s getting a little too cocky, and decide to shut him up a bit. Moaning out obscenities, you begin to bounce back against him. His hands shoot back to your hips, using you to stabilize himself. Gone are his confident words, replaced with the most gorgeous whimpers you’ve ever heard. His head dips lower, resting once again against your upper back. You can hear his quiet whispers of “Oh fuck” repeated over and over again like a prayer.

With scrambling fingers that dart under you, he starts to play with your clit, bouncing at the same rhythm of his thrusts. “What fun is it if I’m the only one cumming? Besides…” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I studied the game tape.” He begins moving in circles, and suddenly it’s like you’re fucking him for the 50th time. He knows exactly where and what feels good, what directions, and how much pressure to use. But you have no time to wonder how many times he watched you before his hips started snapping in shaky thrusts. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, and with the energy you have left, you decide to put on a major finale. Head tipped back, you begin pleading with him, crying out, “Please come for me, please, please. You’ve done such a good job, I need it, I need you, please please please…” Unable to hold back, he cums with a harsh final thrust. But even in the throws pleasure, he manages to continue to play with your clit. You cum shortly after him, he whines at the feeling of you spasming around his extremely sensitive cock. He slowly pulls out, taking a long second to admire the sight of you bent over and dripping arousal.

He guides you into the chair, helping you sit down and catch your breath. He sits next to you, snuggling into your side and planting his face against your neck. He breathes deep, inhaling your scent and kissing lightly against your sensitive skin. He manages to mumble into your neck, looking up with sweet, half-lidded eyes, “So...there’s about 56 cameras in the house. You mind sticking around for an extra few weeks?”

[dvrktvnnel]

I don't want your sorrys, I want you safe

Genre: Angst/Mafia AU

Pairing: Mafia! Wooyoung x reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: I'm sorry in advance <3

Summary: Wooyoung acts careless about his life in the mafia, and the way it affects your lives finally breaks you. All you want is for him to be safe.

12am. He was late again. No text. No calls. No details where he was going. Just you sitting in the couch waiting for him to come home. It drove you crazy, it's been over a year now and you had hoped it would get better. Either he wouldn’t be gone for so long, or maybe you’d get used to him being away.

But it never got easier. And you knew deep down it never would. When you finally heard the doorknob click you grabbed the gun, just like he taught you. Checking the cameras he had hooked up to the monitor, you saw his silhouette, his eyes you loved so much looking right into the camera.

You knocked on the door back, in the same beat he taught you to make sure he wasn’t being held at gun point on the other side. His safe knock returned, and releasing the breath you held you dropped the gun and opened the door.

He smiled upon seeing you, but it was hard for you to smile back when you saw his busted lip. It wasn’t bad, but it was enough to remind you of how much blood he’s already lost in this lifestyle. How blood he’s taken from others too.

“You okay baby?” he asked.

You folded your arms over your chest and shrugged.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, avoiding his eyes and question . You didn’t want to cry, not again.

He nodded, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“Baby whats wrong,” he asked gently, then his demeanor changed. “Did something happen? Did someone come here?” he asked quickly, looking around the apartment and pulling out his own gun.

“Nothing happened, nothing happened,” you assured him, putting your hands on his chest.

“Its just,” you started, before shaking your head. “I don’t want to get into right now. Im tired, you’re hurt. Let's just wash up and go to bed.”

Wooyoung grabbed your hand before you could walk away.

“Baby, please don’t do this,” he pleaded. “Tell me whats wrong.”

You turned around and sighed. You really didn’t want to do this right now.

“I’m fine, I’m just tired,” you said flatly.

“Y/N come on,” he started, but you put your hand up to stop him.

“I’m not doing this tonight I just want to go to bed.”

You started walking away again and he threw his bag off his shoulder.

“Y/N what the hell, I just got back, and you’re already pissed?”

You shook your head and put your hand up again. You really did not want to do this right now.

But he was insistent. He took his jacket off and made his way to you, following you to the room.

“Are you seriously not going to talk to me? You’re just going to stay mad at me for no apparent reason?”

“Im not mad at you, Im mad at the situation.”

“What situation?” he asked, his irritation only fueling the fire within you.

“Every fucking night you’re gone for hours, hell sometimes you don’t come back until the next day!”

Wooyoung froze, clearly not expecting an outburst. You felt bad, but he pushed you into it. He dragged you into this lifestyle.

“I sit here, and i wait for you, never able to tell if you’re coming home okay or even alive. Do you know how fucking terrifying it is when Jongho comes here while you’re gone? Every-time Im expecting him to tell me you died.”

“Y/N, I told you i had a dangerous life before we got together, you said you were fine with it!”

“No, I said I loved you! I said I wanted to be with you anyways, Ive never been “fine” without you here, worrying about you. Fuck even when you’re here I’m worried! At any second some piece of shit you’ve fucked with could show up and kill us both!”

Wooyoung took your hands in his.

“Listen to me, none of that is going to happen. Im careful, and Im really fucking good at what i do. Mingi’s been shot more times than anyone, and he’s fine!”

You push him away

“You don’t get it, it’s the fact i know one day one of those shots could he your last. You don’t have to do this; I work and if you got a normal job we’d be fine!”

“You know damn well i can't do that,” he said sternly. “I’ve busted my ass off to make you feel safe, what more do you want from me?”

“I want you safe! I want you to be safe with me and away from all of this!”

“You know I can't just stay with you all the time! I have shit I need to do!”

“No, what this all comes down to is that you have a big ego.”

His phone rang. You both paused and waited.

“Answer it.” you said harshly. “Answer and prove me right, that you only give a shit about your reputation with your gang.”

Wooyoung said nothing. He took his phone out and answered it, turning his back to you.

“What is it-“

Sans voice cut him off.

“Woo get the fuck out of there right now they tracked you and-“

Before either of you had a chance to react, an explosion erupted through the apartment. You were thrown away from Wooyoung, hitting the wall as debris fell on top of you.

You saw a group of men run through the door before you blacked out, calling Wooyoung’s name weakly.

@vampzity @h4untedgrl @scarfac3 @rvereri @losrpark @dollywoo

[velarisdusk]

Subjugation

Day 31: Fuck or Die | Lucien x Reader, Rhysand word count: 6.6k author's note: I LIED IT DID IT ON TIME LITERALLY FINISHED MAKING THIS POST 2 MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT HAHAAA!!!!! this is loosely based on an audio i heard months back that i was OBSESSED with but has since been deleted ugh im so sad :( account deleted as well :( im very sad about it so this is my way to cope. i really hope yall enjoy this one, bc ive been looking forward to it all month. thank you all for sticking around, i loved seeing your reactions and thoughts on all of these fics!! this was my first ever kinktober so she might be a bit rough around the edges, but im really glad i did it, and im really glad it was received the way it was. much love to all of you and i hope you enjoy!!! <333 warning! given that this is literally a “fuck or die” there are strong themes of dubious consent, walking the very thin line between dubcon and noncon. ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

Darkness enveloped you, a thick blanket that pressed down, squeezing the air from your lungs. As consciousness crept in, the first sensation was pain—raw and relentless, coursing through your limbs like a wildfire. Your body ached as if it had been trampled, every muscle protesting against even the slightest movement.

You blinked against the dim light creeping in, squinting at the cold, damp stone that pressed against your back. Confusion clawed at your mind, a fog of disorientation shrouding your thoughts. Terror coursed through your veins  as you tried to lift your arms, only to find them restrained above your head, the chains biting into your wrists, cold metal pulling you down like a heavy weight.

A muffled sound escaped your throat, the thick fabric in your mouth pressing harshly against your tongue, making any scream futile. The taste of iron and fear filled your mouth, and your heart raced as reality settled in—the sheer vulnerability of your situation sank like lead in your stomach. You were exposed, chained, and completely at the mercy of whoever had brought you here. Was this it? Has she finally come to claim you for her twisted games?

Frantic breaths filled the air, and you strained to look around, the dimness revealing little more than shadows. It was then that you noticed him—a familiar figure sitting a few feet away, naked and equally bewildered. Lucien.

His eyes fluttered as he began to stir. The sight of him sent a jolt of relief through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the dread coiling in your gut. What had happened to you both? 

His skin appeared paler than usual; the months you’d already spent under the mountain seemed to have drained the life from him. That godsforsaken fox mask still lay on his face, but the eyes underneath it seemed more sunken, and the lines of worry etched into his face spoke of sleepless nights and the weight of hopelessness that hung heavy in the air these days. 

As Lucien's gaze met yours, confusion morphed into alarm. He seemed to struggle against the haze of unconsciousness, and panic surged through his face as he took in your surroundings. “Where…?” he murmured, his voice raw and hoarse.

The gravity of your situation settled between you, heavy and suffocating. You were trapped—naked, chained, and entirely exposed in a dark, cold room. You could see the realization dawning on him, and the fear mirrored your own.

“What the hell is going on?” he croaked, panic lacing his voice as he strained against his own restraints, testing the chains that bound him.

The sound of your shackles echoed in the silence. You wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but the gag stifled your voice. Instead, you shook your head slowly, tears pooling in your eyes.

Then, without warning, a chilling voice slithered into your mind, a darkness that curled around your thoughts like smoke. “Ah, waking up already? How delightful.”

It was Rhysand. Dread pooled in your stomach, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening. You and Lucien looked around frantically, your gazes darting through the shadows for any sign of him. But even in the darkness, it was clear: he wasn’t there. The world around you twisted, and the horrifying reality of your situation settled in like a heavy weight. You would die in this room. 

“Consider this a bit of recompense,” he purred, voice laced with amusement, “for Lucien’s heroic outburst on Feyre’s behalf. But I’m feeling generous, Lucien… I could have chosen anyone for this, yet I thought of your dear, sweet friend—consider this a gift from me, really. All he has to do is indulge his more… primal urges. Simple enough, wouldn’t you say?”

He paused, letting his words hang in the air like a blade. You and Lucien exchanged a glance, the gravity of the situation dawning on both of you. Your heart raced, panic and dread swirling in your chest like a storm. Lucien’s eyes were wide and pleading, but his body remained tense, muscles coiled as if ready to spring into action despites the restraints binding him.

“But let’s not pretend you don’t understand the stakes here. You see, my dear, in this world, power is everything. Those who wield it have the privilege of making the rules. And I, well, I have quite the extensive collection of rules. Your friend Lucien is merely a pawn in this little game, and you? You are the prize. Such a sweet, tempting prize, chained and vulnerable before him.

“Do you feel it?” he continued, a dark thrill evident in his tone. “The dread curling in your stomach, the fear flooding your veins? That’s the gift of knowledge, darling. Knowing that your fate lies in the hands of someone who enjoys watching you squirm. You were so certain you could resist, that you could outsmart those of us holding all the power beneath this mountain. But look where that has brought you—naked, exposed, and utterly at my mercy.

“Lucien, dear Lucien,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “You think your defiance gives you strength? How quaint. You may feel brave now, but courage can crumble in an instant when faced with true power. You’re in a game far beyond your understanding, and right now I hold all the cards. The choice you face isn’t just about survival—it’s about how low you’re willing to stoop to escape this fate.”

You could feel the panic radiating from Lucien as he continued to struggle against his restraints, the chains rattling with each futile attempt. The atmosphere shifted, a tension coiling tighter as if the air itself were charged with impending doom.

“And now, let’s have a private chat, shall we, Lucien?” Rhysand’s tone shifted, smooth and menacing. You watched as Lucien’s eyes widened, the fear creeping across his features, and your heart sank.

“Get out of my head!” Lucien shouted, his voice raw with defiance. It echoed off the cold stone walls. 

“Oh, but we both know that’s not how this works,” Rhysand purred, his voice curling around Lucien’s mind like a serpent. You could still hear him—Rhysand wanted you to hear him. “I want you to understand the gravity of your situation, Lucien. You have a choice to make—one that will determine not only your fate but that of your precious friend as well.”

Lucien’s fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he glared defiantly. “You think I’ll let you do this? You’re a monster, I won’t—”

“Spare me your bravado,” Rhysand interrupted, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re in no position to make threats. You see, either you take her, or I will end both of your lives right here. Think of it as a favor. If you truly care for her, this is your chance to save her. I can see the way you look at her—how long have you wanted her?”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said tersely, attempting to mask the turmoil roiling within him. 

Rhysand’s laughter echoed through both of your heads, smooth yet laced with venom. “Oh, we both know that isn’t true, Lucien. Maybe Amarantha hasn’t seen it, but I certainly have—the longing, the desire you think you’ve hidden so well. It’s pathetic, really. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s noticed and has said nothing because you’re simply not worth her attention.”

You tried to shake your head, tried to let Lucien know that you heard the exchange and what he’d said about you wasn’t true in the slightest. But your head wouldn’t move. It was then that you felt the claws scraping against your mind, holding you in place. 

Lucien’s face shifted from anger to horror, and you could see the internal struggle etched across his features. You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but Rhysand and the chains held you captive, the gag stifling any sound of support.

“You’re sick, Rhysand!” Lucien’s voice trembled, a mix of anger and desperation. “This isn’t power. You don’t hold any power here! Amarantha loosens her hold on your leash for two minutes and you decide to play these twisted fucking games. You’re the one warming her bed, doing her bidding, yet you call me the pawn?” He shook his head, disbelief etched across his features. “You have no real control, Rhysand, you’re a puppet.”

“Oh, Lucien,” Rhysand began, his voice smooth as silk but laced with venom. “You talk a big game, but what good is your bravery when it leads you to this? You call me a puppet, yet here you are, bound and powerless. Look around you—this isn’t a game of chess where you can play the noble knight. You are the pawn, desperately clinging to the hope that your defiance means something. It doesn’t. It never has.

“I’ve delayed long enough,” he said, his tone shifting to something colder, more calculated. “Let me make this perfectly clear to both of you: Lucien, you will fuck her. If you refuse, I will delight in watching you both die slow, agonizing deaths—your minds crushed bit by bit until there’s nothing left but despair. Your little friendship will unravel in a cacophony of screams, and I will ensure you understand the price of defiance.”

With those words, a chilling silence enveloped the room, filled only by the sound of yours and Lucien’s ragged breathing. You could see the conflict raging in his eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on him like a vice.

With a sudden clatter, Lucien’s shackles released their grip, the cold metal falling away from his wrists and legs. Without a moment’s hesitation, he bolted to your side, kneeling beside you on the unforgiving stone floor. His presence felt like a warm beacon in the oppressive darkness, and you instinctively leaned into him, desperate for any comfort.

He gently brushed your hair away from your face, his touch feather-light yet grounding. “Are you okay?” His voice was low and urgent, eyes scanning your face as if searching for signs of damage that could never be fixed. He wiped the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumbs, the tenderness of the gesture contrasting with the hopelessness in your chest. You wanted to scream, to protest, but the terror of what Rhysand would do if you didn’t comply loomed large in your mind.

Lucien’s gaze softened as he took a deep breath, determination flickering in his eyes. He reached around to your mouth, fingers brushing against the gag that stifled your voice. Just as he grasped the fabric, his body went rigid, and he doubled over in pain, a choked gasp escaping his lips.

“I wouldn’t,” Rhysand’s voice echoed in his mind, cold and merciless. “If you remove that gag, I’ll kill you on the spot, and she’ll be much worse off than she is now.” The threat hung in the air like a noose, tightening around Lucien’s resolve.

You watched helplessly as Lucien’s expression twisted from concern to agony, the weight of Rhysand's grip on his mind pressing down like a heavy hand. The moment felt suspended in time, your hearts racing in unison as fear clawed at both of you.

Once the pain subsided, he searched your gaze, the anguish etched on his face evident as he spoke. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. I’ll—I’ll figure something out.” His resolve was palpable, a fierce determination to protect you despite the impossible situation. 

Tears continued to spill down your cheeks, but you nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. Lucien was your friend, and as much as the fear clawed at your insides, you knew he would be gentle. If this was the only way for you both to escape this cruel nightmare, then so be it. You would endure, not just for yourself but for him, too.

His breath shuddered, both with relief and hesitation, and he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I’ll make it as easy as I can,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. You wouldn’t be alone in this.

Lucien moved to position himself in front of you, averting his gaze as he spat on his hand, giving himself a few quick pumps. Despite the dire situation, his body responded quickly, hardening at the sight of you. He looked at you with a mixture of apology and determination. “I need you to spread your legs,” he asked gently, his voice soft and careful.

You complied, legs parting with a trembling reluctance. Lucien took a deep breath, aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, the movement as gentle as his grip on your waist. Every inch felt like a battle against the situation you were in, but he made sure to look into your eyes, his expression full of concern and care.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, pausing to let you adjust. You nodded, focusing on his face—the only anchor you had in this horror. As you gazed into his eyes, you could see the conflict warring within him. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and his lips pressed into a thin line, trying to hold back any sign of pleasure. But there it was, faint and undeniable.

He rocked his hips against yours cautiously, checking on you every few moments, his hands trembling slightly as they caressed your sides. “We just have to get through this,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. “We’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.”

Lucien moved with an agonizing slowness, ensuring that every moment was as painless as possible for you. His eyes never left yours, and you could see the torment in them, the guilt and helplessness he felt at having to do this. 

Without warning, he began thrusting into you harshly, his movements losing their previous tenderness. Confusion and a jolt of pain surged through your body as he pounded with a force that left you gasping. 

A dark, chilling voice echoed through you, but this time, it was Lucien’s. “Too gentle for my liking,” he purred, dripping with what could only be described as malicious delight. “I prefer things a bit rougher. Don’t you, darling?”

You realized with horror that Rhysand had seized his mind, turning him into a puppet for his sick amusement. Lucien's face twisted with anguish, his eyes pleading for forgiveness even as his body moved against his will.

“Gods, your pussy feels so fucking good,” Lucien's voice taunted, his words—not his words, you had to remind yourself—a cruel mockery. “Look at you, taking him so well. Maybe you’re enjoying this more than you care to admit?”

Tears streamed down your face as Lucien’s thrusts grew more violent, each one sending unwelcome jolts of heat through your body. You wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, but the gag stifled your cries, leaving you trapped in silent agony.

“Tell her, Lucien,” Rhysand commanded through Lucien's lips, his voice dark and commanding. “Tell her how much you’re enjoying this.”

Lucien's mouth moved against his will, the words spilling out in a broken, pained voice. “You... you feel so good,” he choked out, the horror in his eyes betraying the vile words he was being forced to speak. “So tight, so perfect.”

“Such a good little slut,” Rhysand sneered through Lucien, forcing him to continue the brutal assault. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to be used, to be fucked hard and rough.”

The torment in Lucien’s eyes grew, a silent apology for the nightmare he was being made to inflict upon you. But there was nothing he could do, nothing either of you could do.

Suddenly, Lucien's movements slowed and then stopped altogether. His eyes, wide with horror and filled with tears, met yours. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It wasn't me. I promise it wasn't me.”

You nodded, your eyes brimming with understanding and hurt. You knew he was being controlled, that he was as much a victim as you were.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, tears streaming down his face as he began to move again, Rhysand’s control forcing his hips to continue. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

Every thrust was accompanied by another desperate apology, Lucien’s voice cracking with the weight of his guilt. “I don’t want to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. Please believe me.”

You could see the agony in his eyes, the helplessness as his body moved against his will. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “We’ll find a way out. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

But it continued, Rhysand’s cruel laughter echoing in your mind, a constant reminder of the power he held over both of you. Lucien’s apologies blended with the sounds of your muffled reactions through the gag, moans and whines you couldn’t contain. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucien whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I swear, it’s not me. I’m being forced to do this.”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. Each thrust was gentle now, driven by Lucien’s desperate attempts to make this as bearable as possible for you. His hands, though trembling, caressed your sides soothingly. “We’ll get through this,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “This is our way out of here. Just hold on.”

The gentle rhythm continued, Lucien’s eyes locked onto yours, filled with sorrow and determination. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “You’re not alone in this. I’m here with you. I’m so sorry.”

But his words of comfort were short-lived. With a sudden jolt, Lucien’s body stiffened, and the cruel, mocking tone of Rhysand filled the room once more.

“Enough of this pitiful display,” Rhysand sneered through Lucien’s lips. “I’m growing quite bored.” Lucien’s eyes still held a flicker of horror as his body moved with a violence that was not his own. 

“Such a beautiful thing,” Rhysand mused through Lucien. “Taking him so well, aren’t you?”

The words were a cruel mockery, each one a knife twisting in your heart. Lucien’s body responded to Rhysand’s commands, thrusting harder and faster, the pain and humiliation a relentless torrent that threatened to drown you.

“You feel so fucking good,” Lucien said, the words a twisted parody of desire. “So tight around me.”

The brutal rhythm continued, your body aching from the force of it. Rhysand’s control was absolute, Lucien’s face impassive, eyes vacant as he was made to use you. “You’re just a toy,” Rhysand purred, his voice a dark, possessive growl. “Both of you. Playthings for my amusement.”

This couldn’t be happening. You tried desperately to focus on anything but the pain and humiliation. You prayed Lucien was fighting back.

Lucien’s head tilted slightly, and Rhysand’s words, dripping with amusement, spoke through his lips. “Oh, he’s trying. But there’s no fighting me, darling. He’s mine, just as you are.”

 Your eyes widened, full of tears. Why was he doing this? What did he gain?

A laugh burst from Lucien’s lips, a cold, mirthless sound. “Power, control, and the delicious pleasure of watching you break,” he replied, thrusting Lucien’s body harder, the force causing a cry to escape your gagged mouth. “I told you, my dear. In this world, power is everything.”

He reveled in this, drawing pleasure from your suffering and Lucien’s unwilling participation. It was sickening. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling over, had lost that battle long ago, and you wished desperately that this was just a nightmare you could wake up from. He was a monster. How could he live with himself?

Lucien’s face contorted in a cruel smile, Rhysand’s influence evident. “Quite comfortably, actually,” he said, relishing each word. “And don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this on some level. The thrill of submission, the helplessness—it’s all written across your lovely face.” 

He reached out to caress your tear-streaked face, but you turned away, trying to pull back from his touch. Your defiance only seemed to amuse him, his fingers trailing down your cheek in a mockingly gentle gesture. “Such spirit,” he murmured. “It’s almost a shame to break it.”

It felt so surreal, hearing Lucien speak to you with such harshness. These were combinations of words that would never leave his lips under normal circumstances. The assault continued, each thrust a reminder of your helplessness, of the power Rhysand wielded over both of you. “You see, my dear,” Rhysand continued, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “true power is making others bend to your will, breaking them in ways they never thought possible.”

Lucien’s eyes flickered with awareness, the harshness in his expression softening momentarily. But his movements didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. He was still fucking you roughly, his body obeying Rhysand’s commands despite his own desperate efforts to regain control. Tears blurred your vision as he tried to speak, his voice strained and choked with remorse. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, his hands gripping your waist tightly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I would never... never think to treat you this way.”

Suddenly, he halted, a look of panic washing over his face. “I can’t move,” he panted, desperation clawing at his voice. “He—I can’t move, he won’t let me pull out.” A swell of confusion now mixed with your dread. 

Then, Lucien’s eyes glazed over, and you tried to reach for him before the shackles bit into your skin. You sensed a shift in the air. “Oh, do you want to see?” Rhysand’s voice slithered into your thoughts, smooth and taunting. “I suppose I could let you in on it, I don’t see why not.”

Images flooded your mind, and your heart raced with horror as you witnessed Lucien’s desires twisted into something perverse. You saw yourself bent over a table, Lucien behind you, thrusting deep and hard, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in your ears. In another, you were sprawled across the floor, your moans mingling with Lucien’s gasps as he took you from above. Each vision was more frantic and vivid: you on your knees, lips parted and glistening as he slid into your mouth, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on. There were scenes of you tied up, your body trembling as Lucien’s mouth explored every inch of you, his fingers curling inside you while you writhed in pleasure. Another vision showed you pressed against a wall, legs wrapped around his waist, your nails digging into his back as he pounded into you relentlessly. The most depraved was of you blindfolded, your hands bound much like they were now, as Lucien alternated between fucking your mouth and your cunt, the sounds of your shared ecstasy filling the air. 

But the one that drove Lucien over the edge was an image of you straddling him, moving with abandon, your breasts bouncing with each motion, the pleasure on your face unmistakable. It was a sight that made his entire body tense with desire, reacting to the carnal imagery Rhysand forced into his mind. Just as the haze of those visions lifted, your eyes met Lucien’s—clarity breaking through the chaos. In that fleeting moment of connection, he climaxed inside you, his cock pulsing, filling you with warmth as he gasped your name. 

You shuddered violently, your breath hitching in ragged gasps as the reality of what just happened sank in. More tears spilled down your cheeks, unstoppable, as agony tore through your chest. The sound of your sobs filled the air, harsh and broken. Lucien’s face twisted with anguish behind the mask, his eyes wide and wet, reflecting your pain back at you. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “I couldn’t stop it, I… I didn’t want—It wasn’t—”

His hand reached out, trembling, to wipe away your tears, but you flinched, recoiling from his touch. The sight seemed to pierce him, his face filled with a deep sense of sorrow. He continued to stammer apologies, his words tumbling over each other in a frantic plea for forgiveness. “Please. I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t control it.”

You forced yourself to nod, to show him that you understood, that you didn’t hold him responsible for the nightmare you were both trapped in. But the tears kept coming, your body shaking with each sob. Then you felt it—his cock, still buried deep inside you, starting to harden once more. The sensation was like a cruel twist of the knife, a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over you. Lucien’s breath stilled, his face contorting with the effort to suppress the groans that threatened to escape. Each twitch, each pulse, echoed the relentless torment you were both enduring. His eyes squeezed shut, a desperate attempt to block out the reality, but every time he tried, Rhysand flooded his mind with more depraved images, leaving no escape from the cruel grip he held over both of you. 

Lucien took a deep, shuddering breath, his demeanor calmer, more composed. You felt a flicker of hope as he looked at you, his eyes softer. “No… That’s it,” he said, his voice steady. “We’ve done what he wanted. We can leave now.” He glanced to the side, his brow furrowing. You followed his gaze, but there was nothing there, only the cold emptiness of the room. When he looked back at you, his expression had shifted, a shadow of confusion in his eyes. “He just... Rhysand just told me... we need to do it again.”

Your stomach dropped, a pulse of dread that sent your heart racing. No… No! This wasn’t what you agreed to! You shook your head fervently, desperation clawing at your throat. The gag stifled your cries, leaving you to struggle against the rising tide of fear as you locked eyes with Lucien, your gaze flickering between the golden and russet one. The hope that flickered moments ago now felt like a cruel joke. This wasn’t… You were both supposed to be free…

Lucien’s face twisted with helpless resignation. “He never specified how many times… or for how long. I’m sorry… We have to,” he said, a tremor in his voice. Before you could react, he grabbed your legs and threw them both over his shoulder, holding them tightly to his chest as he began to thrust into you again.

The new position was jarring, the sudden change leaving you disoriented. His movements were slower than before, but deeper and harder, every thrust sending an involuntary warmth curling low in your stomach. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this, why each relentless push ignited sparks that shouldn’t have been there, mingling with the knot of dread that twisted tighter inside you. 

“Just relax,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing if it weren’t for his bruising grip on your legs. “Just let yourself relax, let yourself feel it. You’re doing so well.” His hand trailed down your side. “I knew you’d be this perfect.”

With each helpless moan that slipped from your lips, he groaned, a dark gleam sparkling in his eye. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust as he thrust into you. “You know, I… I always knew you’d be tight, but gods, I never imagined like this.”

Each thrust drove him deeper, his cock filling you completely, hitting places inside you that sent shocks of pleasure and pain through your body. It wasn’t how you had ever imagined Lucien to be in bed, but the way he spoke, the raw need in his voice, it was turning you on despite yourself. His thrusts were relentless, each one sending waves of sensation that blurred pleasure and pain. The scent of your arousal only seemed to spur him on, driving him to quicken his pace.

He leaned down, practically folding you in half, his hands braced on either side of your head as his hot breath ghosted over your ear. With each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the cold stone walls. “You’re squeezing me so perfectly,” he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. “Fuck, I can feel every little tremor inside you. You love this, don’t you? You love how I’m filling you up.”

Your body betrayed you, a heated flush spreading across your skin, the mix of pain and pleasure muddling your thoughts. One rough hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips before he trailed down your neck, lingering at your collarbone. His fingers moved lower, tracing over your skin until he reached your breast, kneading it firmly as he thrust into you with an unyielding pace. “Look at you,” he continued, his tone a blend of mockery and genuine desire. “Look at how you’re taking me, every inch, like you were made for me.”

The words sent a conflicting wave of heat through you, your mind reeling from the unexpected arousal that mingled with your horror. He must be putting on a show for Rhysand’s twisted pleasure; surely, that was what the sick bastard wanted. Fine, if that’s what it took, you could play along. He shifted slightly, changing the angle just enough to hit a spot inside you that made your back arch involuntarily, a strangled wail of pleasure escaping your lips despite the gag.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll never forget it,” he promised, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. He straightened back up and moved his hands to your thighs, spreading them wide, pushing himself in even deeper. The shift sent a shock through your body, each movement igniting a raw, dizzying ache that left you breathless.

“Do you feel that?” he growled, his eyes darkening with desire. “You’re so fucking wet for me. It’s like your body was made for this.” You nodded, and his thrusts quickened, a relentless rhythm that sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you. Each stroke was more brutal, yet so deeply satisfying that it tugged at the edges of your resolve.

“How good is it,” he demanded, his breath ragged and heavy as he continued to take you apart. “I want to hear you. I want to hear how much you love it, how deep I am inside you.” The mixture of pleasure and pain danced in your core, and your body instinctively responded, betraying your sanity.

You could only moan in response, the gag smothering each sound into something raw and desperate, your mind too overwhelmed to form coherent thoughts. Your wrists strained against the shackles with the urge to reach up, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. 

“I can feel you tightening around me,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so close, aren’t you? So close to coming all over my cock. Do it, come for me, darling.”

That twisted something deep inside you, an abysmal flicker of recognition even amidst the haze of pleasure. Your heart raced as you took a closer look at him, your mind struggling to align the image before you with the heat in his words. As your gaze locked onto his features, a wicked smirk spread across his lips.

“Surprised to see me?” he drawled, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

A wave of horror crashed over you, realization hitting like a cold slap. It was Rhysand. How long had it been him? Your pulse quickened, panic rising as all you could think about was him forcing Lucien to watch, helpless, as his own body betrayed him. And worse, it was Rhysand who has brought you to this fevered pitch, whispering words that left you trembling, stirring something you couldn’t deny. 

He ripped the gag from your mouth, and the sudden rush of air felt like freedom, but it was quickly swallowed by the screams that erupted from your throat. “Get off! Get out of his head! Let us go!” you shouted, thrashing against the bonds holding your wrists captive, but they held firm. “You’re a sick fuck, where do you get off making us do this! Huh?”

He only chuckled, an unsettling mix of amusement and something darker, his movements insistent and unwavering. “Interesting choice of words. I didn’t expect you to be so articulate, given the circumstances,” he said, a playful lilt in his voice that only fueled your anger. “If you want, I can hand him back. But I can’t guarantee he’ll be in any state to help you.”

With a casual ease, Rhysand slipped out of Lucien’s mind. Lucien, brow furrowed and eyes screwed shut, remained lost in the throes of desire, his movements relentless and unyielding.

“Lucien!” you cried, desperation thickening your voice. “Lucien! Please! You can hear me, right? You have to hear me!” But there was no flicker of recognition in his expression, no sign he paid any mind to your pleas. Panic surged within you, and your heart raced as you continued. “Lucien! Fight it, please! Please, just listen to me! Just stop for a second!”

But he was too far gone, the waves of pleasure crashing over him, drowning out everything else. “I’m not stopping,” he murmured. 

Your heart sank at the words. Shock coursed through you, a bitter ache settling in your chest. You wanted to reach out, to pull him back, but all you felt was a suffocating despair and the cold metal around your wrists. 

“I’m not gonna stop,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust and determination, each thrust punctuated by a growl. “It’s too good. I’m not gonna stop… You feel too fucking good.” The heat of his words wrapped around you, blurring the line between pleasure and pain. “So perfect… So perfect for me…”

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin. “I need to—Gods, just let me have this… Gonna fucking pound you,” he grunted, the primal need in his tone sending shivers of both fear and arousal coursing through you. “Feels so good, you feel so good…” 

Your heart raced, torn between the conflicting sensations that surged through your body. You were trapped, and as Lucien continued to move inside you, it became clear he was too.

“So good, you’re so good,” he hissed through a clenched jaw. “Gonna—Fuck, gonna pump this fucking pussy. That’s right, gonna pump your pussy full of my cum.” Each repetition of his promise warped his voice; what had begun as a deep, raw rumble now took on a more taunting, delirious lilt. “I’m not gonna stop. I’m not gonna stop. I’m not gonna stop.”

“Please, Lucien, listen to me!” Your voice trembled with desperation, but it was drowned out by the feverish rhythm he maintained, each thrust echoing with an intensity that rattled your very core.

His only response was a deep, throaty growl, a mix of pleasure and something darker that made your skin crawl. “You’re so good, you know that?” he gasped, words slurring together as if he were intoxicated by the moment. “So fucking perfect… for me…” The way he said it twisted something deep inside you, a sickening blend of yearning and dread. 

A guttural laugh rumbled in his chest, and you felt the bile rise in your throat. “You feel so good… so fucking good, can’t… can’t stop… Gods, you’re so warm, so wet… so perfect, gonna fill you up…” 

“Please, Lucien!” Tears streamed down your cheeks, frustration bubbling within you as you struggled against your bonds. But each desperate plea seemed to dissolve into the air, swallowed by the insatiable hunger that consumed him. The look in his eyes was a haunting mix of pleasure and torment, and it shattered your heart all over again.

“Gods, you’re so warm, so wet… so perfect,” he repeated, his voice thick with lust, each word a reminder of how far gone he truly was. “Gonna fill you up… Can’t help it.”

His hands dug into your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh as if anchoring himself in reality. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, each exhale fanning the flames of your undeniable desire. “Come for me,” he urged. “I know you like it. Just come for me. Come for me.”

“No, I—” you started to protest, but the words fell from your lips like dead leaves in a storm. The heat coiling in your core was overwhelming, threatening to drown out your thoughts.

Then, with a sudden, calculated movement, he pressed his fingers against your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. Pleasure burst forth, raw and electric, igniting every nerve ending. Your mind screamed a protest, but your body betrayed you.

“Oh, gods…” you gasped, your resolve crumbling as the world around you faded into a blur. You came almost instantly, a tidal wave of ecstasy crashing over you, blurring the lines of desire and despair.

The moment your body clenched around him, Lucien’s breath hitched, and a primal growl erupted from his throat. “Yes, just like that…” His movements turned erratic, each thrust deeper and more frenzied, and he followed you over the edge, surrendering to the same wave of pleasure that had claimed you.

“Gonna fill you up…” he grunted, the delirium of his release washing over both of you. The heat between your bodies seemed to ignite the air, the world around you fading into a distant echo as you felt him throb inside you, pulsing with the remnants of pleasure.

As your bodies trembled together, the shock of what had just happened crashed over you like a frigid wave, pulling you from the heights of ecstasy into the depths of despair. You had surrendered in that moment, allowing the overwhelming pleasure to consume you, but the reality of your situation loomed larger than ever.

His breath came in ragged gasps, and for a fleeting instant, you saw a flicker of clarity in his eyes—a glimpse of the male you knew buried beneath the haze of lust. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same twisted hunger that had taken hold of him. You were left with the haunting knowledge that, despite the shared climax, he was still trapped in this nightmare, as were you.

“Lucien…” you whispered, your heart pounding with a mix of yearning and anguish. The connection you had felt in that moment now felt like a cruel joke. The struggle within you simmered, and you realized this was far from over when he began nibbling and suckling at your neck. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

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@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

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@randomgurl2326 @scarsandallaz @julesvanslutta @90angiex @fourthwing4ever

[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Take You There IV

Song that inspired this chapter...it was actually a few honestly

A/N: This was meant to come out yesterday, I just didn't realized how detailed I was gonna make it 🥲 I should know myself better than that by now. I barely proof read this, I pulled an all nighter with it cause ADHD hyper fixation aint no joke, so excuse any typos im too delirious rn to catch them. Also I had Back 2 Luv by Grimm Lyn on repeat for this chapter too 👀

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reign Adisa (black female OC)

Warning: smut! fucking finally! because you've all been so patient 💕 and I just wanna say that its only up from here 🤭 now that they've finally done it?!?! How will they ever stop??

Word Count: 4,764

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Chapter 4

Reign followed Terry’s SUV through Houston’s winding night traffic, her foot itching to press harder on the gas whenever his tail lights flashed ahead. At every red light, she’d rev her engine playfully, catching his raised eyebrow in the rearview mirror and the hint of a smirk each time he glanced back at her. Her thoughts raced, and she squirmed in her seat, the A/C on high but doing little to cool the warmth of her anticipation.

When they finally pulled into his gated complex, Terry waited by the entrance, gesturing her through the gate and leading her to a spot next to his. He stepped out of his SUV, watching as she grabbed her things, including a sparkly pink “spennanight” bag that caught the light as she slung it over her shoulder.

"I am nothing if not a prepared woman, Terry," she said with a playful shrug, noticing the amused way he looked at her bag.

He took a step closer, his hand finding her waist with a possessive ease, fingers pressing just enough for her to feel the strength in his grip. His voice dropped as he leaned in. “Oh, I’m starting to see that Reign. And I like that… a lot.”

Without another word, he guided her toward the entrance, his hand firm on her waist as they walked. The energy between them was electric, sparking with tension, and Reign felt her breath catch at the intensity radiating from him. He’s just as needy, she can tell, he’s just better at masking it. Terry’s grip was a silent promise, one that sent a thrill through her as they stepped into the dim, private world of his building.

Even the elevator ride was excruciating. His grip on her kept her from swaying to the bland music playing overhead, forcing her to remain still as heat pooled between her thighs. Reign let out a soft whine, feeling her heartbeat race south, where her clit still felt ghosts of his touch. Terry smoothed his big hand from her waist, firmly down to cup her ass, shushing her as his touch grew deliberate, his deep voice doing little to calm her. 

“Patience baby girl, I won’t make you wait much longer I promise.” Reign let out the most dramatic sigh of relief when the elevator doors opened and practically skipped out into the hallway, Terry following close behind with an amused chuckle. He showed her to his door, unlocking it and entering first, scanning the familiar shadows as he switched on the lights. Reign stepped in and was immediately struck by the space. His loft fit him perfectly: strong, quietly confident, and magnetically stylish.

As soon as Reign moved further into his apartment, she was immediately met with Houston’s skyline, the industrial windows giving her a stunning panoramic view. His living room was divided by a dark leather couch that looked both inviting and like something he never actually used.  It faced an expensive looking suede ottoman that sat on top of a dark gray rug, softening up the feel of his sitting area. His large tv mounted on the wall was framed by a few minimalistic art prints in black and white, abstract and slightly edgy, yet tasteful.

Reign ran her fingers over the couch’s leather as she walked in, turning to face the rest of his apartment, noticing a dark sleek kitchen next to a spiral staircase that led to his lofted bedroom. His room looked like a cave from this angle behind the metal railing up there. She could imagine someone like him never actually wanting to leave a home this reclusive. 

And the smell—it was unmistakably him, a blend of sandalwood, whiskey, and something richly spicy that filled her senses the moment she walked in. Reign’s mouth watered as she took it all in, feeling like she’d walked into a private corner of Terry’s mind. She looked over her shoulder at him, and he watched her with a glint of pride in his eyes, clearly pleased with her reaction. 

"Your home is so nice, Terry. It really suits you,” she gave him a little smile gesturing to the shadows, “maybe a little too serious at first glance… but there’s something comforting about it."

Terry stepped closer, his gaze intense as he watched her move around more comfortably. "I like having you here, Reign." His voice was low, his words laced with a budding possessiveness that sent goosebumps racing across her skin. She noticed the way his fingers twitched as if he had to keep himself from reaching out to touch her right then.

She nodded, biting her lip, trying not to let her shy nature win over in this moment, not when it feels like it took her a lifetime to get here with him. She forced herself to hold his gaze, voice coming out breathless as she suggested, "why don’t I go get the shower started for us?"

Terry’s eyes darkened to a murky green, his stance relaxing as he nodded. "Upstairs to the left, I’ll be right behind you," he said, his voice thick with yearning.

With a final look, Reign headed for the spiral staircase, feeling his gaze attempt to undress her as she ascended, her heart pounding with each step.

~~~~~~~

Reign tied her braids up around themselves in a messy bun, her fingers trembling as she stripped off her clothes, her skin prickling at the rush of cool air as she leaned over to turn the shower on. Her glasses fogged as the heat rose around her, blurring the room in a soft haze. She could hear Terry moving around just on the other side of the bathroom door, and her entire body pulsed with the anticipation of him joining her. She grabbed her loofah and soap out of her bag she’d placed on the wide counter, and opened the shower door, stepping into the scalding water, letting it pour over her and coax the tension from her muscles.

She placed her glasses on the tiled shelf and turned towards the water, wetting her loofa and adding her sweet floral soap. Reign began to lather her skin softly, moaning at how sensitive her body was. She ran her soapy hands up to her neck, imagining Terry’s hands replacing her own, his warm lips finding the delicate spot behind her ear, kissing her there, and making her body melt against him.

Reign lathered her breasts, her fingers grazing over her pebbled nipples, and she called out his name sweetly. She pinched them gently and she grew impossibly wetter, letting  her hand drift lower down her body. The hot water cascaded over her curves as she trailed her loofah down her stomach, scrubbing gently across her thighs, imagining Terry’s firm grip there, his fingers pressing into her softness just hard enough to leave marks against her mahogany complexion.

The faint sound of music drifted through the door, a sensual beat that seemed to echo her pulse, and Reign leaned back against the cool glass wall. She lifted one leg, balancing it high against the opposing tiled wall, her muscles stretching as she held herself open to the hot water. The contrast of the cold glass against her back and the steaming water against her front heightened every sensation, her heart pounding at the idea of Terry stepping in to find her like this.

Reign moaned more uninhibited now, hooking one hand under her thigh to brace herself, and taking the fingers of her other hand to delicately open herself up, unwrapping her pussy like a gift as she spread her puffy lips, unveiling her clit. Her fingers mimicked the circles Terry made at the park, and a feverish desire made her standing knee buckle.

“Terry please…” she called to him louder, growing impatient, losing herself in pleasure he should be causing. Reign heard the bathroom door slam open and thud against the wall as cool air flooded in.

~~~~~~~

Terry was just trying to set the mood—a nice experience for them both, that’s all! Poor guy was running around lighting candles, tripping slightly as he yanked off his cargo pants, dropping his portable speaker when he caught her first moan. She didn’t need to see him this flustered, overwhelmed just by having her in his private space. Hell, it’d be over in 5 minutes if he didn’t get his shit together.

He shrugged off his shirt, sprayed a touch of cologne on his bed seeing as how she loved his scent, and tossed water bottles onto the side table. He was reaching to turn on the ceiling fan when he heard her again—her voice melodic, rising in pitch, like a siren calling him to drown in her depths.

Without realizing it, he was through the door, gaze zeroing in on the round curve of her ass pressed against the glass shower wall. Fuck. His needy girl, so lost in her own pleasure she hadn’t even waited for him. 

Terry actually couldn’t be bothered with anything else but going to her aid—not his boxers that were still snug on his hips, getting tighter as his dick swelled, not the speaker still thumping on his floor which would surely cause Ms. Sheila downstairs to cuss him out the next time she saw him—he was helplessly drawn to her as her energy anchored him to this moment.

Terry stalked forward, pushing the shower door open, barely registering the steaming water pelting his skin, coming to stand in the space her open legs created just for him. All words lodged in his throat as his intense gaze observed every little thing—the way her eyes were desperately squeezed shut, sweet whimpers leaving her where she bit her plump bottom lip harshly, her own nails digging into her thigh where she was holding it up against the wall, her other hand creating intoxicating wet sloshes where she thrusted two of her fingers deep into her pussy.

“Terry I need-” that was all it took to snap Terry out of the trance she put him in, hearing her voice whine his name.

“Shh baby I’m here,” he grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, bringing their wet lips to press together hungrily as his other hand replaced her own on her thigh, hoisting her leg up higher to hook around his waist. They both moaned into the heated kiss, tongues fighting for dominance, stealing each other's breath. Terry cursed against her lips when she clawed her nails into his back, pulling away from her only to dive to the crevice of her neck, leaving biting kisses that had her mewling sweetly for him.

“I know what you need baby girl,” he licked down her chest, bringing his hand from her neck to cup her breast, teasing her nipple with his soft lips as he looked up at her through his long wet lashes, “let me help you.” His tongue swirled around her nipple and Reign threw her head back as he sucked it into his hot mouth, arching her back to offer more of herself to him.

“Pleaseeee I need more Terry!” He hummed against her, moving to suck her other nipple and bite it softly, causing Reign to gasp, thigh trembling in his hand.

Terry kissed lower and lower down her soft body, making a silent promise to spend time kissing each of her tattoos later, when the need to satiate this hunger wasn’t so suffocating. He fell to his knees before her, wide shoulders forcing her standing leg to spread more, and he placed her thigh to rest heavily on his shoulder.

Terry pressed a fleeting kiss to her hard clit, his teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp. “Just so you know, Reign,” his voice deep and unyielding as he spoke, his hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. “the more you cum for me, the more you become mine. You ready for that?”

She didn’t get a chance to say a damn thing. She could only let out a sharp cry of relief as Terry’s thick lips wrapped around her clit, his tongue circling at a maddening pace and his groan of pleasure reverberated up into her body. He could drink her essence for days, her sweet warmth delighting his starving taste buds. Terry grabbed handfuls of her ass, squeezing hungrily and pressing his face harder into her, chasing her honey right to the source with his tongue. Reign’s moans echoed beautifully off every surface in the bathroom, literally music to his ears.

Terry kept his tongue in her pussy as he hooked his bicep around the thigh resting on his shoulder, bringing his thumb around to massage her clit. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of her pussy clenching around him, and he fisted himself out of his drenched boxers with his other hand, finally remembering the rushed state at which he joined her. He timed his strokes with the way his fingertips danced on her hard nub, pumping his dick firmly and moaning as she left more scratches on his back, grinding her pussy harder against his face.

“Sh-shiiit Terry! You eat my pussy sooo good baby, don't stop!” She grabbed the back of his head, wet body slipping against his hold on her as she chased those crashing waves.

Reign had lost all concepts of time and space and anything that wasn’t Terry’s persistent mouth on her and his pretty eyes boring into her whenever he could keep them open. She felt weightless, save for the heavy pulsing of her pussy seeking to drown him. Neither of them noticed the water growing cold, nor the ache in their muscles. All Reign knew is she was being ruined for anyone else who attempted to bring her to this high.

Squeaky obscenities left her mouth as Terry brought his lips back to her clit, sucking with a stronger pressure now, grunting into her as he palmed the swollen tip of his dick. “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum!” Terry moaned into her, his bright eyes blinking away the water droplets stuck to his lashes so he could see her better, wanting to imprint the sight of her orgasm to his memory for later use. “I’m gonna cum da-” her whole world shattered on his tongue, he could hardly hold on to her slick, wiggling body as she rode each coming wave, blessing him with more of her sweetness. 

She whimpered at the overstimulation of his sucking turing to soft kisses to her clit, her positively puffy lips, and all over her mound. His kisses didn’t stop as he eased her thigh off his shoulder, both of his strong hands massaging her legs lightly to get the blood circulating properly. Terry felt dizzy, drunk off her, never wanting his tongue to be rid of her unique flavor. 

Terry rose slowly, his lips trailing kisses up her trembling body, letting his hands steady her waist as she caught her breath. Reign sighed softly, her fingers brushing against his jaw to tilt his face up, her smile lazy and satisfied as she looked into his smoldering gaze.

“Baby,” she murmured, her voice still shaky, “if that’s what your mouth can do... I don’t know if I’m ready for the rest of you.”

Terry chuckled low, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. “Oh, you’ll take it. All of it,” he growled, his voice dripping with promise. “And you’ll thank me for it.” His thumb brushed tenderly along her jawline, a stark contrast to the dominance in his tone, and Reign felt her knees nearly buckle again. He pulled her to him for a kiss, letting her taste what was driving him crazy and she moaned, already getting flashbacks of his tongue in her.

Terry took a step back to stand directly under the spray of now icy water and Reign’s eyes flicked down. She laughed softly, her finger trailing playfully over the waistband of his boxers. “You’re over here tryna snatch my soul, and you’re still halfway dressed. Unacceptable.”

Terry tilted his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. “And what do you plan to do about it, Reign?”

She smirked, bending at the waist as her hands hooked under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down slowly. “Guess I’ll have to fix that,” she murmured, the teasing rasp in her voice making him clench his jaw.

Terry’s dick sprang free, almost smacking her in the face, and her lips instinctively brushed against his tip, her tongue poking out curiously to taste the bead of precum leaking from him. Terry’s body jerked involuntarily and he stepped back quickly, his large hands gripping her shoulders gently to stop her and pull her back up. “Reign, if you do that,�� he warned, his voice strained, “I won’t last. I’d rather be inside you when I give you my cum.”

Her eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction warming her features. Standing gracefully, she let her hands trail over his chest as she moved. “Alright then, let me help get you cleaned up,” she said softly, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

Reign grabbed his soap and loofah, lathering it between her hands, her touch gentle and deliberate as she worked the suds across his broad shoulders. Her hands moved with care, tracing the lines of his muscles and washing him thoroughly, almost reverently.

The confinement of the shower made the moment feel cocooned in intimacy, their previous teasing replaced with something softer. Terry watched her through half-lidded eyes, the weight of her attention making him feel exposed in a way that had nothing to do with his nudity.

“Reign,” he said quietly, his voice full of something unspoken. She looked up at him, her hands pausing on his chest, and for a moment, neither of them moved, the fading steam curling around them like a protective veil.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You feel…so good here. I don’t want this to just be tonight.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she pressed her forehead to his chest, letting the water cascade over them as she whispered, “Then don’t let it be.”

~~~~~~~

Terry didn’t give them much time to dry off; his need for her was impossible to ignore, a force driving him beyond reason. He stepped out of the shower first, water glistening on his skin as he wrapped a fluffy towel low around his waist. Turning to her, his hands were gentle but firm as he gestured for her to step forward, wrapping another towel snugly around her torso.

As soon as the towel was secure, his lips captured hers, hot and insistent, tasting the lingering steam between them. With a deliberate grace, he guided her backward out of the bathroom, his large hands framing her waist as though she might disappear if he let go. When the back of her legs hit the edge of his bed, he expertly nudged his speaker aside with his foot, the motion smooth and instinctual, all his focus locked on her.

Reign pulled away from the kiss, settling herself gently onto his bed. Her hands smoothed over the dark green duvet, fingers tracing the soft fabric as she took in the mood Terry had created with the soft glow of the candles and the sensual thumping music. The room smelled of his cologne, the air thick with unspoken desire.  Her gaze flickered back to him—he stood there between her legs, his eyes dark with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. She noticed his dick twitch under the towel, and she bit her lip to stifle a smile. He couldn't help himself. She looked so damn beautiful lying there, waiting for him.

Reign’s lips curved into a teasing smile as she tugged at the edge of his towel, freeing his length, finally able to get an up close and personal view of him. His whole body was absolutely beautiful, she doesn’t know why she was so surprised to find his dick was too as it hung heavily against his thigh, and she could practically see his heartbeat from here with how thick his veins are. 

She looked up at him through innocently fluttering lashes, her voice low and playful. “You’ve kept me waiting long enough.” Terry reached forward to gently tug at her own towel, freeing her soft curves and beautifully decorated skin.

“Do you want to use a co-” she cut him off with a sure shake of her head, placing her warm hands on his thighs, feeling them flex as he kneeled over her on to the bed, prompting her to scoot backwards to make space for him.

“Are you on birth-” he stopped talking with a laugh, watching her smile and nod her head, laying back on his pillows, spreading her legs wide for him. 

“Don’t make me beg Terry, not again.” He wouldn’t be that cruel with her, yet. Without further prompt, he bent over Reign, hooking a strong bicep around her torso and lifted her against his body, causing her to squeak in surprise. She could feel his tip nudge against her clit, almost slipping inside of her from how wet she was. Terry grabbed two pillows from the head of his bed, placed them under her lower back, and gently set her back down. This way he could stay more elevated on his knees, and her pussy would be right where he needed her. Oh he was not about to play with her at all.

Terry leaned over Reign to give her a wet, sweet kiss, grabbing her wrist and guiding her hands to hold her thighs open for him. Reign silently obeyed, moaning into the kiss as she felt his dick glide over her slick pussy, his length hot and demanding, and she felt her heart start to race faster. Terry broke the kiss, whispering lowly against her lips “keep these hands right here okay? Keep yourself open for me, pretty girl.”

She bit her lip and nodded, watching as Terry straightened back into his kneel, sturdy thighs flexing dangerously. One of his hands coming on top of hers, applying more pressure to her thigh, spreading her open more, the other hand smacking his dick against her puffy pussy, causing her to yelp at how sensitive her clit still was from earlier. Terry couldn’t take his eyes off her, the soft pink peeking out from the brown petals of her lips, it was so fucking pretty, just like his girl. He began to rock his hips against her, his thighs kissing hers as he grinded his dick through her pussy lips with more purpose.

“Remember what I said, Reign? Hmm?” He slapped his tip heavily on her clit to get her attention and Reign nodded frantically, squeezing her eyes shut as she squeaked out—

“The more I cum, the more I’m yours daddy!” Terry groaned at that, at her remembering, at her calling him that already, at her wetness coating his dick and dripping down his length.

“That’s my good fucking girl.” His voice was deep, a growl in the back of his throat as he finally slipped into her. The sensation of her tightness wrapped around him made his eyes roll back for a moment—he was struggling to hold himself together.

She moaned, pulling him deeper as she clenched around him, a natural instinct as her body tried to pull him in. “Let me in, baby girl.” He didn’t ask, and his shallow thrusts seemed to possess a rhythm of their own. His hands moved to her hips, gripping them tightly as he watched her body react. Her tits bounced lightly with each thrust, and his mouth watered at the sight.

Reign bit her lip, a look of strained concentration on her face as she tried to relax her walls. He felt so damn good, filling her completely, stretching her in ways that made her burn. The pillows under her tilted her hips up, causing him to repeatedly hit her g spot.  She struggled to hold her composure, the pleasure building in her core.

Terry’s eyes locked on where they connected, primal instinct surging within him. He opened his mouth, not asking but needing to see it—drooling on her pussy as he watched his cock slide into her, slick with her wetness. She moaned loudly, her body tightening at the sensation, her pussy opening up even more as he slowly sank deeper.

“Fucking hell, this pussy feels so good, baby,” he groaned. He slid his hand down, rubbing the extra wetness onto her clit, rewarding her for letting him in, for giving him more.

Eyes hazed and misty, she gripped her thighs tighter, trying to do as he said and keep her legs up and open. She groaned, her body trembling as she fought to hold back another orgasm. Reign bit her lip, muffling an agonized moan at his slow, fluid thrusts.  Terry noticed his pretty girl trying to hold back.

“I’ve been wanting to be here…” his voice deeper and husky from his visceral need for her, and Reigns moans increased in volume at how she could somehow feel his voice in the depth of her being, right where his tip repeatedly kissed her cervix. 

“…in this moment with you, for too long Reign.” He could hardly speak anymore, the feeling of her warm pussy squeezing around him in response to his words, it was too much. Reign moaned louder, eyes shut tightly at his increased thrusting, getting lost in all he was giving her. 

“Don’t hold back shit from me, baby girl. Give me everything.” And Terry watched the dam break, listened to the uninhibited moans she gifted him, the squeal of his name as she gushed and came around his length. 

“Yesss” Terry hissed at her, smiling darkly as his fingers sped up on her clit, and he leaned over her, her thighs now pressed against his chest, causing him to dig impossibly deeper. “Keep going baby, give me more” 

She missed the crazed look in his eyes, the way this moment solidified her as his new drug. Poor thing was too busy making a mess of his dick, pussy creaming and squeezing, leaking her cum. 

"Say thank you for making me cum daddy." Terry started circling his hips every time he bottomed out in her, dragging her orgasm out with a harsh grind.

"Thank you daddy! Fuck its too much baby I—"

Terry cut her off by leaning over her further, her ankles now resting on his broad shoulders. He turned his head to the side and, before he could stop himself, he leaned down, kissing and sucking on her toes. Her squeals hit his ears like music, the sudden shock of the sensation making her pussy gush even more. Everything about her was so natural and so pretty, and Terry found himself hungry for every inch of her—nothing was off limits to his tongue. He could feel his balls tightening; he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Where do you want my cum pretty girl?” his thrusts were sloppy, his breathing was ragged. He stared into her pretty eyes, his brows furrowed with barely restrained ecstasy.

“I want you to nut in me baby.” her sweet voice asking him to mark her walls as his own was too much for him to question if this was a good idea, he simply obeyed his pretty girl’s command with a loud groan, dropping his head to the crook of her neck and slowing his thrusts until he was twitching spurt after spurt of cum deep into her. 

Reign ran her hands up and down his back, smoothing over the scratches she left there earlier, trying to ignore the ache in her hip joints at feeling more of his weight rest heavily on her body. The warmth blossoming inside of her as he grew softer within her left her feeling content as exhaustion settled in. After a moment, Terry propped himself up on his forearms, giving Reign room to move her legs further down his body, wrapping around his narrow hips. His piercing eyes implored her own, leaning down to kiss her nose softly and smiling at her sweet laugh. 

She brought her hand down to lightly trace the edges of the nicely healing tattoo she’d given him. A new song playing from his speaker caught her attention and he watched that playful glint return to her eyes. 

“Hmm I guess this means you’re mine now too, huh soldier?” Her teasing smile softened as she noticed the earnest look of his own.

“I think I’ve always been yours Reign,” the burning intensity in his eyes left her breathless, “I just didn’t know it yet.”

~~~~~~~~

I'm gonna go take a nap 🥲 let me know what you think! A warning, chapter 5 is way worse than this. I really had so much to get out of my system 💀

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @slutsareteacherstoo @liatreads @sageispunk @teddybeerz @eviescloset @planetblaque @soft-persephone @violetmuses @miyuhpapayuh @iterum-incipi @blackgurlnhermoods @helloncrocs @blyffe @meannaim @nun0ir @onherereading @eilujion @maria-gab-rielle @gg-trini @gwenda-fav @violetlovezzz @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @honeytoffee @avoidthings @brattyfics @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @kumkaniudaku @pocketsizedpanther @mysecretbleedingheart @amyhennessyhouse @tvchi @aristasworld @stabrichie @geriixox @diaries-of-me

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 4 - LN

content warnings: fluff, angst, drama (the whole shabang).

ur girl is going back to working full time tomorrow so if we have slow updates blame my place of work. also, im still recovering from the 4am wakeup and lando p3

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

“max pick up the damn phone,” y/n said, taking great strides across the paddock towards the car park. once again, the phone call had gone to voicemail. she clicked his contact details, ringing him again. only this time, it didn’t even ring. the phone went straight to voicemail. and to add to the matter, max’s car had disappeared from the car park.

y/n sat on the empty floor of the empty parking spot her brothers car had been in, opening up her phone to check the time and send a message to max, she probably should’ve waited for the mix of fear and anger to fade, but here she was, tapping aggressively at the screen of her phone.

if you think you can ignore me forever, you’ve got another thing coming

dont think you can jump to conclusions and throw a childlike strop about this.

but of course, the messages stayed on delivered for hours. it was at least 2 hours before lando’s caller id popped up on her phone, still with no word from max.

“hey, where did you go? mum said something about you walking off,” lando asked her the moment she answered the call.

“currently? i’m sat on the floor of the car park. where are you - ill walk over now,” she said bluntly. he stayed on the line until she entered the mclaren unit.

“y/n? what do you mean max has left?” panic rising in his voice as she walked up to him, his hands coming to rest on her waist.

“i mean he’s left. gone. driven off,” she said with a shrug, “he won’t answer my calls, hasn’t read my texts, he’s just gone.”

“he might be at the hotel? we’ll drive over in a bit and see?”

“i don’t think we should do anything, i think we might have done enough damage for one day.”

“y/n your brother has just driven off. you should at least try and check if he’s at the hotel.”

“fine, but i’m going alone.”

“let me try and talk to him first, you never know something might’ve happened with P?” lando said, still stroking her hips softly, desperately trying to think of any reason that his best friend had up and left.

4 unanswered calls later, and lando and y/n found themselves sat on the sofa in his driving room again, her head laying on her lap as he stroked her hair, trying to resolve the anxiety.

“i don’t care what he thinks, y/n. i feel so strongly about you and i think i have for years.”

“i think i have too. but i hate the thought of people disliking me, let alone my own brother.”

“i know, angel. he’ll come around soon, i promise.”

“that man held a grudge against me for years when i accidentally scraped the side of his kart when i was 12,” she said, laughing sadly at the memory of their parents having to sit them down in the living room and make them apologise to each other. the moment was quickly interrupted by her phone ringing, max’s caller id popping up on the screen.

“ma-”

“no. don’t talk to me. you two have lied to my face for years about this. lando promised me he would never even think about you in that way. and you, i don’t know what ive done to you for you to go behind my back and fuck my best friend but it’s not on.”

“max i-” lando tried to reason with him.

“oh, of course he’s there. just waiting for the moment i left to start fucking my sister, didn’t you?”

“it’s not like that, max.”

“no? then what is it like? ‘cos from where im standing it’s pretty clear he’s been waiting years to take advantage of my little sister,” he argued down the phone, venom rolling off his tongue.

“take advantage of me?” she scoffed, moving to sit up and hold the phone next to her mouth, “who the fuck do you think you are to talk to or about me in that way? who gave you the audacity to believe you have any control over who i choose to date? you couldn’t care less about protecting me, you only care about protecting yourself," she said, her voice raising and her finger moving to point as if he were stood in front of her.

“he’s not right for you.”

“that’s your opinion max. if you can’t trust me, or lando for that matter, then why should i bother giving you a moment more to talk down to me?”

lando sat silently next to her, playing with his own fingers. this was not his fight to fight right now. he’d speak to max privately later, right now, he knew y/n needed to stand up for herself, and god was she smashing it.

“why can’t you just listen to me?” max sighed, defeated, “i know what’s good for yo-”

“go fuck yourself,” she said, hanging up the call, and dropping her phone on the floor besides her. lando’s arms move to behind her waist, pulling her back to rest into him on the sofa. the room fell into silence.

“im sorry,” she mumbled.

“don’t be sorry. this is on him, and me. i should’ve told him the truth the first time round. hell, i should’ve told you the truth earlier.”

“i’ve ruined your big day, lan. p2 - you should be celebrating, not arguing with your best friend.”

“im with you - that’s celebration enough,” he said, happy to see her smile for the first time in hours. she moved to lay her head back down on lando’s lap, this time looking up at him. a knock on the door brought the two of them back to reality, and cisca walked in, adam trailing slightly behind.

y/n contemplated moving, jumping away from the boy who was currently running his hands through her hair, but it had only been 4 hours of hiding whatever was going on between the two of them and she was already bored of keeping up the pretence.

“y/n, love, did you find max?” cisca asked, eyes softening at the scene unfolding in front of her. had she secretly wished for this for years? maybe.

“yea, he um, he went home.”

“he’s not happy about this, is he?” adam said, pointing between the two of you, yet even he couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“not happy, fuming, absolutely raging - i guess you could say that,” she replied, laughing slightly to ease any tensions.

“he’ll come around lovely, he can’t stay mad at you. you’re his sister after all.”

“i love that you think so highly of my brother, cisca. he will go to the grave holding this grudge if he can.”

“ill talk to him later ang- y/n,” lando said, correcting himself quickly, not comfortable enough yet to be overly affectionate in front of his parents.

“good luck with that,” y/n joked, patting him on the arm sadly.

later that evening, y/n found herself sat on the floor of lando’s hotel rifling through her bag to find her pyjamas. earlier, her and lando had driven to her hotel room, to find that max had packed his stuff and left as expected. she didn’t want to be alone, and lando didn’t want to leave her alone. her phone began to ring, and she answered it praying it wasn’t max.

“y/n the videos of you are going feral on twitter right now,” her best friend, caitlin, shouted down the phone the moment she picked up.

“stop it - what are people saying?”

“erm, some people think it’s cute?” he friend responded, voice laced in slight worry.

“…and the rest of them think im a slut?” y/n added, but her friend only responded with a hum.

“what’s max said?”

“from what i remember, he drove off leaving me stranded at the track and then rang me to say i was making a mistake, i was a liar and he never wanted to speak to me or lando ever again.”

“taking it well then,” the girl responded, y/n could hear her eyes rolling. at that moment, lando emerged from the bathroom, with just a towel hanging around his waist. any words y/n intended to say got stuck in her throat. he took strides towards her, noticing she was on the phone and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before moving to his own suitcase to find a change of clothes.

“y/n…are you in lando’s room right now?”

“maybe?” y/n responded in a guilty tone, quieter than she had before, glad lando couldn’t hear the girl on the other side of the phone. however, he seemed to clock on to the question from the small grin on her face.

“girl why did you answer the phone? go spend time with your new controversial boyfriend.”

“he’s not my b- you know what, i’m gonna go.”

“dont do anything i wouldn’t do, stay safe!” her friend added cheerily, laughing as she ended the call. cheery was the furthest emotion from what y/n felt at this moment in time.

once y/n was in her pyjamas, she moved her way back into the room, lando was sat up in bed, his back resting on the headboard, phone in hand. he looked up as she walked in, patting the spot next to him for her to join. her face fell into a look that screamed apprehension.

“y/n nothing bad will happen if you get into this bed and cuddle with me.”

“something bad already happened,” she said, climbing under the duvet next to him nonetheless. his hand reached behind her waist pulling her into his chest, her head coming to rest on him.

“im happy this happened, but im not happy about every thing that’s happening as a result," she told him, her eyes blinking slowly as the exhaustion from todays drama caught up with her.

“i know baby,” he responded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “get some sleep. we’ll sort this out tomorrow, i promise.”

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

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