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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months ago

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Chapter 8: It’s Still Not A Date

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!) Soldier Boy calls the reader Petals.

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.4K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Super creepy dude (it's not Soldier Boy), sexism (it's Soldier Boy), swearing, Denial of feelings, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"What?" You ask for the hundredth time as you catch Ben glancing over at you from the driver's seat.

Street lights flicker on the outside of car, rigid lines of the buildings softened by the speed as he maneuvers the vehicle through the crowded Saturday night traffic.

He was driving, obviously, because when you'd tried to take the keys, Ben had snatched them away and stated "women can't drive" to which you'd responded "I’m not going to be told that I can’t drive by someone who was born before the invention of the wheel.”

Ben looks back out the windshield that’s bathed in a red glow from the stop light above. “Nothing.”

The color of the light cuts through the shadows in the car, dramatizing Ben's proud nose and sharp jaw, catching on the lapels of his coat and making him look like a creature that rose from the sea when a god fell into the depths.

Again it reminded you of all the classical literature you'd read in high school and your first year of college, finally understanding what poets wrote about when they described true beauty, and thinking that the fall of man might not have been from pride but rather man fell for beauty such as this, the beauty that Ben possessed.

When you'd first met him, you'd thought that it was a proud beauty, a haughtiness that Ben had because he knew exactly how good he looked and he expected people to worship that, to bend over backwards for him, but now you weren't sure. Yes, Ben knew how attractive he was. And yes, Ben was Ben, but with you sometimes you weren't sure. The moments you spent on your couch when he asked you about your father or when he asked you how your day was or when he indulged your ridiculous request to try out couches at IKEA or when he thought to buy you coffee or when he sat outside your bathroom just to hear you sing you didn't see the haughtiness, didn't see the pride, didn't the anger, and you didn't see the version of Soldier Boy that you'd seen in clips and photos from the past, you saw someone different, someone real.

“You’ve said 'nothing' seventeen times.”

“I have not.” His eyes flick to yours once more, annoyance pulling his mouth down into an attractive frown.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face? Did Annie draw a mustache on it?” You reach for the visor to look at yourself in the mirror again. "Because she did that one time when we had a sleepover in middle school and she didn't tell me until we got through second period."

"She drew a mustache on you?"

"Yes. To be fair I had drawn a mustache on her the week before, but I didn't use a permanent marker."

"How long have the two of you been friends?" Ben asks slowly.

"Since elementary school." You examine your face in the mirror. You always had a habit of smudging your mascara or your lipstick whenever you wore it. It wasn’t that you meant to, it was that each time you legitimately forgot you were wearing it. But your face is devoid of anything abnormal. You still looked the same as you did when you left the apartment, dark lipstick, smoky eyeshadow, contoured cheeks, and you didn’t see why he kept looking at you. "We grew up in a small town and we were the only two supes in our class. The other kids thought we were freaks, used to make up jeers, there was also something about cooties, but I think I've repressed it."

"Fucking dicks." Ben mutters.

"It's okay. I didn't really care and I had Annie. Would have been worse if it was just me." You shake your head to focus back on what you'd asked Ben before. "But what is it?"

“Nothing. It’s just-“ Ben clears his throat turning again to look out the front windshield as the light turns green. “I’ve never seen you wear anything like that before.”

“Well it’s not exactly my style. Could you see me sitting in the dirt messing with plants and potting soil in something like this?” You snort at the image. "Overalls and jeans seem to be more durable and sustainable for my lifestyle. Not to mention cheaper." You'd seen the price tag on the dress that you were wearing, something that Frenchie said "fell off a truck."

“It should be.”

“What?”

“I mean-“ He shrugs looking away from you. “As much as I’d like you to walk around wearing nothing at all sweetheart, I think you should wear things like that more often.”

"And why is that?"

"You look nice."

"Are you saying that I don't look nice all the time?" You tease him, forcing yourself to frown. It was difficult when you could feel your body warming from the inside out with his compliment. "That I'm some terrible slumpy mess-"

"No I- I just meant that you-" Ben clears his throat again, his hands tightening on the wheel as he searches for the right thing to say. “Why can't you just take the fucking compliment I-" Ben says, almost sounding a little angry.

"I'm just messing with you Ben."

“Oh.” He lets out an awkward chuckle.

Sometimes you thought that it was cute and almost a little endearing that Ben didn't understand sarcasm or social cues from the new century, it made you feel like it was up to you to educate him on things like that. Not that it was a burden, it never felt like a burden to show Ben how to use things or introduce him to the wonders of 2024.

Not to mention you liked how Ben was a little bit old-fashioned about some things, like how he actually got a physical copy of the newspaper every morning and took the time to read it, or how he wasn't on his phone as often as everyone else was or how Ben actually seemed to pay attention when you talked to him. That last one was always surprising, you'd thought that given how eager Ben was to get into your pants he'd only be focused on that. But when you spoke, Ben's eyes never glazed over or darted to his phone as if he secretly wished for you to stop, Ben genuinely listened to you when you spoke to him. Not to mention he gave you an incredible amount of eye contact that you weren't used to receiving from other people living in this century.

"Thank you." You fold your hands in your lap, thinking about the compliment Ben just gave you. "You know, I-" You hesitate.

I can't believe I'm about to admit this out loud to him.

"I don’t think you look too bad yourself." You finish.

Deep down you really hoped that the music earlier had been enough to cover the conversation you had with Annie back at the apartment. In that conversation you'd admitted that you found him attractive, and you didn't want him to know that. Well, know that you actually admitted it aloud. He already had fun making you squirm whenever he brought up the subject of sex.

"Thanks Petals. Keep buttering me up like that and I'll give you a preview of what I've got under this." Ben winks at you.

"I don't think I need to see your unicorn underwear, thank you." You roll your eyes and stare out the window watching the buildings fade into a dark blur in shades of gray and black. "Or your Strawberry Shortcake Tattoo."

"My what?"

"Nothing."

"I don't have any tattoos sweetheart." Ben pauses as if considering. "If you want I'll let you strip search me when we get back home. I think that would be quite educational for you. You know? Seeing exactly what a real man should look like."

"Can we focus on the mission?" Your cheeks heat, but for some reason you couldn't stop thinking about the word 'home.' Ben had never called your apartment that before, he'd called it "our apartment" but never home. It was weird to hear him say it and weirder still was how it made something in your chest tighten.

But you ascribed that to the dress. The ridiculous dress that you weren't sure how on earth you were going to chase down another supe in and the same dress that was only held on to your body by a small sliver of fabric at the back of your neck and seemed so fragile that you feared it would rip when you breathed.

"I'd rather focus on exactly what you've got on under that dress baby."

"Use your imagination." You roll your eyes at him.

"Oh I am. Trust me. But I think that the real thing would be much more satisfying Petals."

Ben eases the car into a space down the street from the party, but close enough that you could hear the classical music, the chatter of the crowd, and see the bright lights. As you get out of the car, Ben flashes around the front to open the door for you.

You blink up at him in surprise as he takes your hand to help you out, and you let him without a second thought. No one had ever done that for you before, even your high school boyfriend who never made the effort to get out of the car, let alone walk you to the door after a date. You weren't expecting him to do that for you.

"Oh. Thank you." But when you join him on the sidewalk, Ben doesn't let go of your hand. You're dangerously close to him, closer to him than you were in the car. The wind picks up behind him rustling through his hair and sends the smell of his shampoo and cologne washing over you in a wave that makes you feel like your chest is unraveling.

Ben's gaze darkens as he stares down at you, and he steps forward, pinning you against the side of Butcher's car.

"Ben what are you doing?" You croak, unable to find your full voice, not when your throat felt like it was closing.

"Come on. You really want to go to that stuffy party Petals?" He purrs, smiling down at you. His hand was toying with the fabric of your dress, at the top of the slit that was just barely above your mid-left thigh

“Ben-“ Your jaw clenches tight, but the feeling of his hand beginning to slide against your skin, pushing the fabric of the dress aside, makes electricity trail with his touch.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No.

The look in his eyes is all consuming, turning his eyes into two liquid pools of a jade colored sea that beckons you forward, highlighting the golden flecks that sparkle and shine in the darkness.

Ben's smirk grows. “Are you really going to keep pretending that you don’t want me to fuck you? Your cheeks are flushed, your heart is beating faster just like it always does whenever I’m around-“ He leans forward and presses a kiss to the side of your neck making an involuntarily shudder roll through you like a clap of thunder. “That’s my girl.”

It would be so easy to give in. To let him take you back to the apartment, to let him have you like he'd wanted from the first moment you met.

As the thought of giving in begins to peel back your inhibitions, a memory floats up from the darkness.

It's your parents, dancing in the kitchen when they thought Darren and you were asleep. Soft light illuminates the kitchen from candles that cover the counter tops and flicker in the air conditioning. The soft tone of "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" is playing, while they sway together and your father looks down at your mother like she's his whole world, singing to her the lyrics with his whole heart. You could still hear his deep voice finding the words and could see your mother smiling radiantly at him.

The memory is gone as soon as it comes, but it reminds you of what you want, that you want love and you didn't want to waste your time with someone who would only pretend to care for one night.

I have a job to do. And I don’t want this- well… I don’t want it all that much.

You think about what Annie and Hughie have, how they tell each other everything, how Hughie listens to what she wants and brings her flowers just because he was thinking of her. It made your heart ache to think about their relationship and to think of your parents again, but you knew that it was what you wanted more than anything in the world. You wanted someone who understood, who wished to be with you not because he wanted to possess you, but because he loved you and wanted to share his love with you and wanted to be loved by you.

"No." You say, pushing back on Ben's chest. He doesn't move much, but he does drop his hand from dress.

“Why not?” He snaps eyes no longer jade pools, but now a blazing emerald "I don't understand you Petals-"

"That's not special Ben, loads of people don't understand me."

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be where you are? How many women have begged me to-"

"To fuck them?" You tap your lip thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, I realized that you haven't said that to me today so naturally I forgot. And I really don't want to rehash this now!"

“I want to.” His eyes blaze with anger. “I don’t understand. You flirt with me, tell me that you find me attractive-"

"I was being nice! You told me I looked nice. That's what you do when someone compliments you. And I do not flirt with you."

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't." You shout. "I've told you before that I don't want to have sex with you."

He runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “We both know that’s a fucking lie. So why not? Do you think it’s going to be bad? Because I can guarantee that anything we do together will be fucking fantastic. Is it because you hate me? Because hate sex is pretty satisfying. Or do you think that I'm going to lose control or something or not take care of what you need? Because I’m pretty damn attentive!”

"For the last time, I don't fucking hate you Ben I just-" Your teeth clench together in anger.

A couple in nicely dressed clothes walk by, eyeing Ben and you with wide eyes and reminding you exactly why you're here.

"Beautiful night isn't it?" You nod your head in their direction awkwardly with the words, before you take a deep breath. "Look this is not the time or the place. We are on a mission and if you don’t want to come to the party, that's fine, I can handle the supe on my own.”

You push past him and begin to walk down the sidewalk a brisk pace, hoping that he will just leave. Because now you were getting pissed off and frustrated. You didn't understand why you had to keep having this conversation with him.

I have told him several times that I don't want to sleep with him. I haven't flirted with him. I don't think I've led him on in any way.

A part of you wasn't annoyed because of the many times that he had come on to you, it was annoyed because of the moments that Ben would act differently, when he acted like a man you could see yourself falling in love with. It made you feel like he was just jerking you around and trying to pretend so you would give in, like this whole thing was his big scheme to get into your pants.

“I just don’t understand you Petals.” He grumbles as he catches up.

“You’ve been saying that since we first met Gramps.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say Macho Macho Man.” You reply, but then the wind picks up again and you can smell his cologne transporting you back to a few moments ago when his hand pushed back your dress and you felt the scratch of his stubble against the skin of your neck and it felt like you had swallowed lightning. It quickly took you back to the moment when he kissed you outside of your apartment the first night he'd stayed with you, how he curved his body around you, and moved his mouth against yours, sliding his tongue past your bottom lip and-

“See you’re doing it again.” Ben is staring at you, noticing the flush that travels from your cheeks and creeps to your ears. “Just admit that you want to have sex with me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

And then you lose it, wheeling on him, poking your finger into his muscular chest.

“Because then what?" You spit and Ben's eyes widen in surprise. "You fuck me once, leave right after and never talk to me ever again? You fuck women then throw them away. You don’t see sex as something special, you see it as a way to let off steam, to justify your existence, and to make yourself feel good about you.” Every syllable is coupled with a finger poking into his chest. "You only want me because you can't have me. I understand that you have this fascination with me now, but as soon as I give in, you won't care." You say it to enforce the idea in my own mind, to gain control of your hormones and push away the memories of Ben and you together.

"You don't know that." There's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place.

"Yes. I do."

"How?"

"Because I've seen the evidence!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Let's brainstorm for a minute." You hold up a hand to stop him. "Who was it that founded Herogasm?"

"Me?"

"Who was it that got Tinder as soon as he got back to America?"

"It wasn't as soon as I got back it was at least a week later-"

"Ben, I want to have sex with someone I love. Not just a quick fuck for five minutes in Butcher's car, or a romp in the shower, or just to 'loosen up'. Okay?" You swallow the lump in your throat. "And I won't do that to myself, have feelings for you, and sleep with you, only to have you throw me away."

Ben blinks and you watch something cross through his gaze that you'd never seen before. "I'd never throw you away Y/n." He says it softly, just barely audible over the sounds of the city.

"You say that now, but as soon as I give in, it won't matter." You clear your throat. "Now I'm going to go to this party, you can do whatever you want, but please just let me do my job."

And then you walk away from him and into the flashing lights and soft classical music that does little to stop the pounding of your heart and the lump of emotion stuck in the back of your throat.

You haven't seen Ben in exactly twenty seven minutes.

In the first seven minutes of your dramatic exit and entrance into the party you had slipped into the bathroom and cried. Why you were crying you weren't exactly sure. Maybe it was the tidal wave of emotion or just the way that your blood was pumping and your heart felt like it would break free and take flight, but you did. And when you emerged from the stall with blood shot eyes and smeared makeup you redid it all the best you could in the bathroom mirror, using the emergency kit that Annie had given you.

Of course you couldn't take all the credit, there was an elderly woman in a navy blue dress in the bathroom who practically witnessed your mental break down and when she saw you struggling to do your make up she helped and more importantly did not ask any questions. She did however say that if you pointed out exactly who it was who did this to you that she would go "make them wish that they were never born." You were tempted to watch this woman kick Ben's ass, but you'd only thanked her and went out to join the party.

The people were dressed elegantly, sipping champagne from crystal glasses and munching spinach puffs so good you were sure that Kronk was in the back making them and apple tarts that were so mind blowing you were sure that Lorelei Gilmore was somewhere stealing a tray. You were disappointed that you hadn't brought a bigger purse, because the spinach puffs were practically orgasmic and you'd only been able to shove three in alongside four apple tarts. Not to mention that there was so much free merchandise and party favors it meant that you now had a new iPad, a tennis bracelet, a watch with a crystal face, an expensive bottle of champagne and several bottles of perfume that smelled so rich it made your head spin. You were contemplating somehow smuggling out another gift bag so you could sell the iPad on eBay when you feel your phone vibrate in your clutch.

You were expecting it to be Butcher. He had been more about low tech tonight, not relying on radio contact too much, just texting and phone calls for emergencies. Not to mention Butcher had as much patience as a child who was told to wait until after dinner to have a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie.

But it's not Butcher's name that lights up on the screen, it's Annie.

Annie : So how’s the date going?

You pause for a moment and you think about telling her everything that happened in the past twenty seven minutes. You had wanted to call her when you were crying in the bathroom, but you didn't know what to say, didn't understand why you were crying.

I'll tell her later, over wine, because I'm going to need a lot of wine after tonight. You sigh again as the memory of what you yelled at Ben rings in your ears. You didn't know why you felt this way, you'd told him the truth if anything you should feel relieved, but… Maybe I should apologize-

You shake your head. No. I won't apologize, it was him pressing all my buttons and trying to get me to… Right. I gotta answer Annie.

You: It’s not a date!

Her response is immediate.

Annie: Sure… tell Ben to get you home by 10.

You: I’m disowning you as a best friend.

Annie: Well when you reinstate me as a best friend, I want all the dirty details.

You: There aren’t going to be any dirty details!

Because I had a fucking mental breakdown, unloaded all my feelings on a man who keeps telling me that he wants to fuck me, and is probably mentally compartmentalizing all his possessions and is going to be moved out by the time I get back home.

Annie: And when you guys finally have sex, know that I am ready to be an aunty and I am ready to help you raise super-baby. It's going to be so much fun!

"Oh for the love of-" You begin to let out a string of colorful curses just as someone bumps into you. You raise your eyes to stare at the man.

He's taller than you, at least six feet and built like a body builder, with graying black curls swept back over his head, sun kissed golden skin, and wearing a perfectly black tailored suit, a crisp white shirt and a navy blue tie, all of which oozes wealth, . There's a hint of a shadow along his strong jaw that gives him a masculine quality to offset the fancy clothes, but emphasizes a long scar that hooks over the left side of his chin and drags down to his neck. His nose has been broken in the past, but still has a curved hook and his eyes are a deep amber brown almost a maple that hold humor and curiosity.

"I'm sorry." The man's voice is low, almost a little raspy, with a hint of an accent that you can't place. He's attractive, fit, and probably close to mid-forties, early fifties. You recognize him as the man running for City Comp Troller, the person whose party you were crashing.

"It's okay." You force a smile, shoving your phone back into your purse, trying not to smoosh the spinach puffs and apple tarts.

"I'm Elijah Black." He holds out his hand to shake yours, his brown eyes lazily tracing up and down your figure as he does.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, alarm bells go off. Something about this man seems wrong, sinister, almost predatory. His hand is soft, surprising giving his imposing figure and stature, and the action of him shaking yours causes his shirt to pull away from his throat revealing just the kiss of black ink that arches over his collar bone, but vanishes in an unknown pattern beneath his white shirt. "And you are?"

"I'm Lisette Worthington." You say the fake name confidently, throwing a shy smile in his direction. "It's alright I was in the way-"

"And very angry at someone." Elijah adds with a smile.

"Yeah,-um- my friend is trying to get back together with her verbally abusive ex. She won't listen to me when I tell her not to." The lie comes easily.

"Pity. I always listen to my friends." He smiles wider, still holding on to your hand, even though you've let go of his. "Especially if they're as pretty as you."

"Oh -um- that's sweet." You answer with an awkward laugh looking for a way out of this. You tug your hand, but he doesn’t release it.

At that exact moment, Ben's arm comes around your waist and he pulls you back into his muscular chest, eyes locking with Elijah.

"Sorry I was gone for so long sweetheart." He says loudly so Elijah can hear him, tightening his grip on your waist. Ben places a kiss just behind your right ear as he does so as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And you fight the warmth that blooms ebbs beneath the surface of your skin when he does.

Despite everything that happened outside you were relieved that Ben was here with you, because Elijah was creepy and Ben always made you feel safe. And despite his constant attempts to get into your pants a part of you trusted that Ben would have your back.

Elijah's eyes flick down to yours as if waiting for you to confirm the fact.

"It's alright babe." You smile up at Ben, leaning in to him and allow yourself to lay your free arm over where it's resting on your waist. Your thumb strokes back and forth over the back of his hand as you do. And for a moment Ben doesn’t look away from your face, something passing through his eyes that you can’t place.

Ben's gaze flicks back to where Elijah is still grasping your other hand. "You gonna drop my girl's hand or are we going to have a problem?"

You flush when Ben uses the words 'my girl' and are thankful that Ben's back is to the large red, white, and blue display of flowers on the table behind him that begins to shed it's flowers and come back ten-fold in even brighter shades of color. Elijah's eyes flick to the display confused momentarily, before sliding back over you.

"Apologies." Elijah lets go of you, but doesn't back away. "I just wanted to get to know her a little better." You don't like the way his eyes trace over your figure as he says it. "You know, it might be considered rude to keep someone like her all to yourself."

"Just like I'd consider it rude for someone to make a move on someone who belongs to someone else." Ben retorts, emphasizing the word "belongs" in a way that makes it suddenly very hard to breathe.

You can hear Ben's jaw clench together, his body tensing behind you slightly, and feel it warm a few degrees as he begins to lose his temper. You can feel the tension traveling through his body and to calm him down you do the one thing that always helps you, you squeeze his hand where it rests on your hip, trying to tell him that it's okay.

Elijah's mouth turns up, eyes glimmering in amusement at Ben.

"But thanks for keeping her company, I can take it from here.” Ben's voice is cold and humorless.

"Of course. I'd hate to leave a beautiful woman like her for even a moment. You’re very lucky.” He smiles at Ben, who doesn't return it. "I'm sure I'll see you around Ms. Worthington. Don’t forget to vote.” He emphasizes the name as if he knows it's not real, and has the audacity to wink before he vanishes into the crowd.

Ben holds on to you for another minute, eyes locked on the place where Elijah vanished, but he does not return. Ben’s arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you to him so tight that you can feel each of his muscles beneath his suit and you fight to keep your heart beat under control and to fight the urge to blush all over again. Finally, he lets out a breath and releases you.

"Are you okay?" Ben looks down at you, his eyes filled with something that looks a lot like concern, surprising you.

Why is he worried about me?

"Yeah. Thanks." You smile as you look at him, but it feels forced.

Ben nods once.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.” He states.

You blink at him confused.

“I didn’t like the way you looked when he started talking to you. Or when he wouldn’t let go of your hand.” His expression hardens, jaw tightening as if he's relieving the memory. "You looked like a deer in headlights Petals."

"I did?"

"Mhmm. Could hear your heartbeat from over there." Ben nods his head in the direction of the bar, where various couples scramble for liquid courage and waiter weave through the crowds holding fresh trays of spinach puffs and crab claws.

"Oh. Well, thanks again, he was very creepy." You bite the inside of your cheek in quiet contemplation thinking for a moment. "I mean some politicians are supposed to be that way, but he was definitely top ten of the creepiest men I've ever met in my life."

"Just promise me I'm not number one." Ben half-smiles, but there's something in his expression that makes you realize that he might not be joking.

"You're not on the list." You say it to reassure him.

"Really?"

You nod. “I -uh- haven’t seen you all night-“ You begin to say. It was true, you had no idea where Ben had gone when you'd had the "fight." If you were going to call it that.

“I was at the bar, getting a drink.”

“Oh.” You do an awkward shuffle with your feet, trying to think of some way to move the conversation along.

Why does this feel so awkward? Why does it feel like we broke up?

Ben doesn’t speak for a moment, instead he’s looking down at you with an unreadable expression. “Petals?” He says it quietly, the same way he said it the day when he told you he was going to buy the couch and you didn't have to worry about paying for it. He said it almost… reverently… not in a teasing way or in a harsh way, he said it in a way that made you feel your knees buckle a little.

“Yes?”

“I’d never-“ He clears his throat as if it’s difficult for him to say what comes next. He lets out a frustrated breath. “I’d never throw you away. I want you to know that.”

“Oh please Ben you don’t have to say that I-“

“No I'm not just saying that. I- I’m not some fucking monster.”

“I don’t think you are Ben. And you shouldn’t have to explain yourself or apologize.” You hold out your hands waving them in front of you.

“But-“

“No.” You shake your head and place your hand on his arm. “I shouldn’t have unloaded all that on you and I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair. And it's okay."

“What’s okay?”

“It’s okay that it’s not who you are. That you're not really one for relationships. And what I should have said is that, I’m not going to ask you to change or guilt you into doing something that you don’t want. It’s not the type of man you are.”

"What type of man am I?"

"Well you're just not a one woman kind of guy or really into relationships." You say it to clarify, but in your head this conversation is becoming as awkward as the one you had outside.

Ben is oddly quiet.

“But that’s okay.” You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. "I meant to also say that, I really don't want to sleep with you because I don't want to make you change for me. That feels very cruel, to manipulate someone that way. For me to want more, to fall for you and you just change the way you are for me."

"Petals-" He's saying it softly again, the way that tugs at your heart.

"I promise I'm fine and I just want to move on. Pretend we didn't have that conversation, or really this one either," You laugh awkwardly. "Okay?"

Ben stands there in the silence, his mouth pulled down into a frown. "If that's what you really want."

"I do. So things can go back to normal?"

"Sure." He says it slowly.

"Good." You turn your head to look away into the crowd, feeling a little bit better, but at the same time you couldn't fight the wave of disappointment that pricked on the edges of your soul. You didn't know where it came from.

The people around you are still mingling with one another and you're trying not to notice how close Ben is standing to you, so close that you're practically against his chest, but there is a good inch of space between the two of you and you revel in it.

I will handle this because I have to. Ben has made it clear what he wants, and I have made it clear what I want and-

As you have the thought you think you see a flash of white in the crowd, the back of someone's head that you think you should know, but as you try to stand on tip toe to catch a glimpse of their face, they're gone.

That was weird. I mean it kinda looked like-

Ben's phone rings in his pocket and he answers it.

"Shit." Ben mutters. He grabs your wrist and tugs you through the crowd which parts easily out of the way of his broad form.

"What is it?"

"The supe is outside!"

Shit.

Ben and you burst through the front doors of the building, just as a hooded figure drives past going full speed in a fancy bright red convertible.

"Come on!" Ben shouts running towards one of the valet who is about to give the keys to a black sports-car idling by the curb to it's owner. Ben grabs the keys as he speeds by, sliding over the hood in his haste to get to the driver's side before you and you follow.

"Sorry! We'll bring it right back." You shout at the owner as you throw open passenger side and slide into the car, slamming it behind you.

But as you do, you realize that something's wrong… what you thought was the passenger side of the car is actually the driver's side.

Wow I was not expecting that.

You lock eyes with Ben who looks devastated by this turn of events.

You can't help the grin that splits your face as you start the car with a press of a button, remembering exactly what he said about women driving earlier. "European car bitch."

Ben looks murderous. "Hey wait a minute-"

"No time Gramps." You slam your foot down on the gas.

The purring of the engine turns into a roar as the car jolts forward in hot pursuit of the red convertible. You shift to a higher gear as you press down further on the gas.

"Oh for fucks sake."

"Calm down. I'm a great driver-" You look over at him.

"Eyes on the road! Fuck." Ben clutches on to the door handle so tight you think he's going to rip it off.

"Ben it's okay, don't have a cow."

"Truck."

"What?"

"THERE'S A FUCKING TRUCK!" Ben shouts reaching for the steering wheel as if he thinks he can drive over you, as a garbage truck backs out into the street.

"You're gonna get us into an accident!" You snap back swerving around the truck to follow after the supe.

"No I'm not! I'm going to fucking save us."

"Not with that attitude." You shift to another gear as you speed up to push through a red light.

The supe turns right in a wide arch cutting off the traffic coming from the left.

"Take a right!" Ben says.

"I have eyes Gramps! Stop backseat driving."

"I wouldn't have to if you'd let me switch with you!"

"Not a chance. We'd lose the supe." You jerk the wheel, feeling the car curve in a beautiful arch through the light. "Man when I get rich I am gonna get one of these."

You hear your phone buzzing in your purse and you start to pick it up, but Ben snatches it away. "No! Please for the love of God do not take your eyes off the road!"

"Fine. Answer it for me."

Ben reaches into your purse and stops. "Why the fuck do you have spinach puffs in here?"

"Because they were free and they were so good." You sigh, taking another sharp turn.

I have no idea where we are going or what we're going to do when we catch this guy.

The supe obviously knew that you were following after him, which meant that there was no way in hell he was going to go back to his chop shop.

If he was smart, he would lead us as far away from it as possible.

Ben hits the speakerphone button.

"Hello?" You sing-song.

"Where in the bloody hell are you?" Butcher shouts on the other side of the line.

"Well I'm not exactly sure. It’s dark. Ben can you read any of the street signs?" You say as you hit the gas, swerving around another car that enters the roadway in front of you, weaving through the oncoming traffic for a moment to get back behind the supe.

"OH HOLY FUCK!" Ben practically screams, one of his hands pressed against the dashboard, the other holding on to the door panel.

"Guess that's a no." Butcher says.

"Gramps is a little upset that I'm driving."

"How are you going to catch the supe?"

"Haven't gotten that far yet."

You watch the convertible take a sharp left down a small alley. "Hold on Ben."

"No No No No!" Ben rips the door handle off as you turn into oncoming traffic narrowly missing a dumpster to follow the supe.

"Holy shit!" You slam on the breaks as you see the convertible completely stopped and the supe standing there. He's wearing a dark sweatshirt that's pulled low over his head, a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, and he's glowing. Well, arcs of bright blue and white electricity weave around his body, crackling through the air around him.

Your eyes narrow as you sit there in the car, Ben glancing from the supe to you as if trying to decide whether or not he should throw himself from the vehicle.

You rev the engine and the supe tilts his head to the side as if daring you to come closer. You slam your foot down on the gas and the car jumps forward to ram into the supe, but just before it does, he shoots upward off the ground using his electricity to propel him to the rooftop above.

You slam the breaks, but the car smashes into the back of the convertible, deploying the airbags.

Well, guess I can't return it now.

Ben is already out of the car and you follow.

"Swing me up to the roof." He orders, loosening his tie.

"Who the fuck do I look like? Tarzan?" You respond looking around for a weed or a vine, but you don't see any.

Ben sighs in frustration and jumps as high as he can with his super strength, making it about half-way up the fire escape before he swings himself up all the way to the roof.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. What am I supposed to do?" You shout up at him, but Ben is already racing over the rooftops after the supe.

You grab your purse and your phone from the car, running out to the street and following the pulsing lights of what you assume must be electricity that get further and further away as Ben chases after the supe.

"What in the bloody fuck is going on?" Butcher roars through the phone as you run as fast as you can, stiletos clacking against the pavement, arms pumping. Your dress is whipping back behind you and you're sure that you're flashing pretty much everyone who passes by, but you're too focused on the supe.

"Well-" You gasp for air because the last time you ran this fast was in middle school when your neighbors doberman broke free and chased you around the neighborhood and no matter how many times Annie tried to get you to do cardio with her you'd rather die than run recreationally. "Soldier Boy is pursing the supe but he's -gasp- on the roof and I don't-"

You were going to say that you didn't have a way up there but then you remembered exactly what was in your purse.

Sacrifices must be made.

"Butcher just trace the call, I can't talk now." You don't end the call, instead you stuff your phone into your purse and remove one of the precious apple tarts. "Fuck I really wanted to eat you." You whisper longingly to the pastry in your hand. You take a bite and try not to moan aloud at the taste, before you pull your arm back to throw it, but then you stop and take one more bite.

I mean… this is a HUGE sacrifice and maybe Ben is completely fine and-

Electricity crackles over the top of the building and you see Ben for a split second almost get knocked off the roof, before he runs back out of sight over the lip of the building.

Or not.

You launch the tart onto the side walk ahead of you manipulating the remains of the apple to sprout and grow into a tree that sits at an awkward angle. You reach down and rip away the dress so that it's no longer floor length, but now reaches your knees and won't get caught on the shoes.

"Wow." You hear someone say and turn to your tight to see a little girl sitting on the steps of one of the buildings eating a vanilla ice cream cone.

You clear your throat with an awkard smile. "Stay in school kid." Before you run full speed up the trunk. Your eyes are glowing bright green as you will the apple tree to grow larger and larger, curving it's branches outward until you're able to leap from it's outstretched arms onto the roof.

Ben is using a makeshift piece of wood as a shield to fend off the electrical attacks of the supe that stands on the opposite side of the roof. The man is still glowing, the tendrils of blue and white reaching outward from his body to wrap himself in a cocoon of safety from Ben.

Another blast shakes the roof beneath your feet that Ben catches with the wood, his shoes sliding backwards a foot with the force of the expulsion.

Damn it. He's gonna owe me a whole cartload of spinach puffs and I will collect.

"Eat this you electric bitch!" You shout throwing one of the spinach puffs at the man. It hits him square in the chest, getting through the electricity because it doesn't conduct anything, and falls on the ground at his feet.

The man tilts his head down at it confused as to what it is.

"Did you just throw a fucking Spinach puff at him?" Ben shouts.

"Yes. Don't say I never did anything for you Gramps." You respond, and as the supe looks back up at you from the ground, you will the plant to grow.

The tendrils wrap around his legs, holding him in place. As the man looks down to fight off the plant, Ben advances with the wooden board and swings as hard as he can.

It hits the supe in the left side with an incredible cracking noise, you're not sure if it's the board or if it's the supe's ribs, but there's enough force to propel the supe from your trap halfway across the roof. His body rolls, kicking up dirt, soot, and who knows what else.

When the supe stands he's still wearing his hood and his scarf, but somehow he looks more angry. How he was able to convey that with his face covered, you weren't sure, perhaps it was the way the air around him seemed to glow, or how his eyes had shifted to a bright blue that burned through the shadows on the rooftop.

Ben races forward, but as he does you realize that the supe wasn't just standing there, he was charging up. And as Ben gets almost past you the supe shoots a bolt of pure electrical energy. Everything slows down. There's a high pitched crackle as the bolt jumps and sizzles through the air, separating the water molecules. Every hair on your body stands up as the smell of ozone fills your nose.

And your instincts take over.

Your body leaps forward of it's own accord smashing into Ben and propelling him out of the way of the bolt, your arms wrapping around his muscular chest and side as you do so. The bolt scorches through the air just over your head where Ben had been standing, making the hair on the back of your head stand straight up, but the supe missed.

In your head you were saving Ben like he saved you the first time you met the supe, when Ben yanked you back out of the way and ripped one of your favorite shirts, but something about this feels different, it felt like the protective instincts you felt for Annie when she told you exactly what the Deep had done to her.

Ben rolls the two of you as soon as you land so that his body is curled protectively around yours and if the supe takes another shot the only thing he'll hit is Ben's unprotected back. Your face is buried in his chest, arms cinched tightly under his armpits to entwine at his back, holding him to you as tight as you can.

When you raise your head to look behind Ben preparing to go another round with the supe, he's gone.

"Shit where did he go?" Ben shouts standing from the ground and looking around at the now empty rooftop.

Well that's just great. I wasted my spinach puff and my apple tart. Maybe that party is still going on and I can grab some more. You begin to think to yourself, as you adjust the remants of the dress, but then Ben wheels on you, his face contorted in rage.

"This is all your fault! You and your stupid Spinach puff!"

"Whoa. Don't you dare speak that way about the spinach puffs, buddy. They were amazing and-"

"I don't fucking care! You couldn't have done anything else?" Ben snarls. He's standing so close to you that you can feel his anger heating the air between the two of you. "Or better yet, you couldn't have just stayed out of my way? I had this handled! But NO you just had to get between him and me didn't you?" His eyes are narrowed at you, glinting in the night like emeralds. "I would have had him!"

Why is he so angry about this? All I did was push him out of the way. You suddenly think back to how when you landed Ben immediately rolled so that you were no longer in the line of fire. Did he do that on purpose?

"WHAT? I saved your life! A thank you would be nice-" You snap back.

"No you didn't. All you did was make things even more difficult for me. Just like every other fucking woman."

You narrow your eyes at the sexist comment. "How did I do that? All I did was help you!"

"No you fucking tackled me! And believe it or not Petals, I'm not going to let you get fucking electrocuted because you keep trying to save me!"

"I didn't want you to-"

"What? Die? I hate to break this to you Petals, but I'm not some pussy like that plant fucker. And electricity doesn't kill me."

"How do you know that? It could-"

"It fucking doesn't, because those assholes in Russia already tried all that shit on me!"

His words make your breath catch. You were trying not to think of all the horrors that Ben suffered in his forty year captivity, because each time you did it made your heart break for him. No one deserved that, not even him.

"Oh." You whisper quietly pressing your lips into a tight line.

"So next time you want to risk your fucking life for me, don't. Because anything that asshole can do to me, worse shit has been done, and I'd rather feel a little fucking electricity than watch you get blasted to pieces." He snarls and stalks off, in the direction of the apple tree you used to get on the roof to look for the supe.

The smell of ozone is still in the air, the sounds of the city rising from below, the bright lights of the distant skyscrapers standing like stoic watchmen. You can just catch a glimpse of Vought Tower amongst them.

And as you stand there in the aftermath you wonder if Ben really didn't care about you, then why was saying that he'd rather get electrocuted than watch you die, and why did he turn his back to the supe and shield your body from the coming hit?

A/N: Wow a lot happened in this chapter…. But honestly R.I.P the apple tarts and the spinach puffs. But, yes I know a lot of angst, a lot of the reader and Ben both living in denial. I promise that I do have a plan for this fic and that they WILL end up at the end. Y'all just gotta bear with me. 😂😭

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #the boys fanfiction #the boys series

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theonottsbxtch · 27 days ago

Note

Hi again! It’s 🐴

I have a request for youuu. What if there is a spy!reader that has been at blows with spy!Oscar Piastri? They’re enemies that will eventually turn to lovers perhaps? 👀 I do love me a good enemies to lovers trope sometimes.

SKYFALL PT.1 | OP81

an: hello again sugar! oh my god the fun i had so much fun writing this, it's a short series. i wrote it all yesterday when i was on a massive coach trip up to see my friend and i am now in love with spy!oscar piastri RAHHH, i also had to name this skyfall because that's like the trademark song for formula one

wc: 2.5k

The rain was relentless, a steady downpour that washed over the narrow Italian streets, cloaking everything in a hazy mist. The city had always had a certain charm, but tonight it felt like a battlefield. She moved swiftly through the shadows, the collar of her coat pulled up, shielding her from the cold rain. She’d memorised every turn, every alley. There was no room for mistakes tonight.

She approached the dimly lit café, her pulse steady, her mind sharp. This was supposed to be an easy job—retrieve the data, disappear. But in her line of work, things rarely went as planned.

Inside, the familiar hum of quiet conversations filled the air. Tourists sipped espresso, locals lingered over wine. She took a seat by the window, her eyes scanning the room beneath her calm exterior. The contact was late. She hated late.

Just as she began to grow impatient, the door swung open, and he walked in.

Her breath caught in her throat. Him.

Oscar Piastri.

Of all the spies in the world, it had to be him on the same mission as her.

He strode in with that same infuriating confidence, the same icy precision that made her blood boil. His eyes flicked toward her, and for the briefest moment, a spark of recognition passed between them, but his expression remained unreadable. He was good at that—masking every emotion behind that cold, calculating demeanour.

They had a history, and it wasn't a pleasant one. Their agencies had been at odds for years, and every time they crossed paths, it ended in a battle of wits, and occasionally, fists. Oscar represented everything she loathed—arrogance, superiority, and an unnerving calm that made him impossible to shake.

She kept her eyes on him, but her heart raced faster now. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. He was here for the same reason she was. The data. The intel. A mission neither could fail.

Oscar made his way to the counter, seemingly unaware of her presence, but she knew better. He never missed anything. Every move he made was deliberate, every step calculated. When he glanced her way again, their eyes locked, and this time, the tension between them was palpable. It crackled in the air, sharp and electric, drawing a few curious glances from other patrons. It could have been cut with a butter knife.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew.

Of course, he knew.

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to remain still. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her riled. Not again. Not like last time.

But that smirk. That damn smirk was infuriating.

He slid into a seat at the bar, casually ordering a drink. His back was to her, but she could feel his attention on her, a subtle challenge in the air. They both knew what this meant. Their agencies might have sent them for the same intel, but there was no sharing in their world. It was winner take all.

The only problem? He was as skilled as she was. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little better.

The waitress approached, handing her a folded napkin along with her coffee. She didn’t need to open it to know who it was from. She unfolded the paper carefully, her hands steady despite the irritation bubbling beneath her skin.

"Looks like we’re playing this game again, sweetheart. Try to keep up this time."

Her fingers curled around the napkin, crumpling it as she glanced up at him. Oscar didn’t turn around, but she could sense the amusement radiating off him.

He was baiting her.

This was how it always started between them. A game of cat and mouse. Only neither of them was ever quite sure who was which.

She stood up, throwing a few bills on the table when she noticed her contact. If he wanted a chase, she would give him one. But this time, she wouldn’t let him win. Not again.

She stepped outside, the rain cooling the heat of her frustration. As she disappeared into the night, she could feel his eyes on her back, watching, waiting.

But if Oscar Piastri thought he could outsmart her this time, he was sorely mistaken.

She moved through the rain-slick streets, her mind racing ahead of her. She knew Oscar wouldn’t wait long to make his move. He never did. This was a game they’d played too many times before, and she knew the pattern. He would strike soon—he had to. They were after the same intel, and neither of them could afford to let the other get ahead.

She ducked into a narrow alley, her hand resting lightly on the concealed weapon at her side. Her eyes scanned the rooftops, the windows, anywhere an ambush could come from. Oscar was as subtle as a shadow, but she knew his tricks.

Her ears caught the faintest scrape of a shoe against wet pavement, and she spun around just as a figure emerged from the dark. Oscar, dressed in black, his eyes gleaming under the streetlight’s faint glow.

“Took you long enough,” she called, her voice dripping with challenge.

“I thought I’d give you a head start this time,” he replied smoothly, his deep voice cutting through the rain. He stepped closer, his movements fluid, predatory. “How kind of me, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

She scoffed, her muscles tensing as she prepared for what was coming. Oscar was many things—arrogant, infuriating, dangerous—but slow wasn’t one of them. He’d never given her a head start in his life, and he wasn’t about to now.

The brief moment of stillness stretched between them like the taut string of a bow, tension building, unspoken. Then, without warning, he lunged.

She darted backward, her reflexes sharp, as his fist cut through the air where her face had been seconds ago. He was fast, faster than most, but she was ready. She countered with a sharp kick aimed at his ribs, but Oscar caught her ankle mid-air, twisting just enough to throw her off balance.

Before she could react, he yanked her toward him, spinning her in a blur of motion. Her body twisted through the air, her legs wrapping around his neck as she locked her thighs, using his own strength against him. For a split second, she thought she had the upper hand, feeling his body jerk in surprise as she clung to his shoulders, her weight dragging him downward.

But Oscar was quick to recover. He snarled under his breath, his hands gripping her waist as he spun, using the momentum to slam her back-first into a nearby table of a cafe that most certainly didn’t deserve this. The wooden surface cracked beneath the force of the impact, and pain shot through her spine.

He didn’t stop. His hands were on her throat before she could regain her footing, the pressure cutting off her air as he loomed over her, his expression dark and dangerous. His body was close, too close, and the heat radiating from him only made the fight more intense.

She struggled beneath his grip, her vision swimming as his fingers tightened. She had to admit, he was stronger than she remembered. But she wasn’t going to lose this one.

A wicked grin spread across her lips, even as she gasped for breath.

"Careful, Piastri," she rasped, her voice teasing despite the situation. "If you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask."

For a fraction of a second, his grip faltered, his dark eyes narrowing in irritation. That split-second was all she needed.

With a sudden, powerful twist of her hips, She used his distraction to break free, her legs kicking up to hook around his arm. She yanked hard, flipping him off balance and sending him crashing into the ground beside her. She rolled, agile as ever, and landed on top of him, pinning him with her knee pressed firmly into his chest.

Oscar gasped, his chest heaving beneath her weight as she leaned down, her face inches from his.

"Guess I still have the upper hand, sweetheart," she whispered, her tone mocking, breathless, but victorious.

He glared up at her, lips pressed into a thin line as he struggled beneath her, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed a mix of frustration and something else. Something darker, deeper.

But she didn’t linger on the moment. She leaped off him, her body moving like liquid as she darted toward the edge of the alley, knowing she needed to escape before he recovered.

Oscar was strong, but she was faster. He wouldn’t stay down for long, though. They both knew this was far from over.

As she melted into the shadows, her heart pounding, she couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had shifted something between them. The game they’d been playing for years now felt different, more dangerous. The stakes had always been high, but now, there was something else simmering beneath the surface—a heat neither of them was ready to acknowledge.

Not yet, at least.

************************************************************************

The sterile lights of the Mercedes Headquarters flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows on the cold concrete walls. Her footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway as she approached the director’s office, her mind replaying the events of the night. She hadn’t expected to run into Oscar—certainly not like that. And yet, here she was, about to explain why she had come back empty-handed.

Her stomach knotted, not from nerves, but frustration. She’d let him get too close. She’d let him distract her. And now, there would be hell to pay.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to her boss’s office. The room was dimly lit, with a desk cluttered with files and a single lamp illuminating the figure seated behind it—Director Wolff. He didn’t look up as she entered, but the air around him was heavy with expectation. She had been here before—too many times, honestly—but something about this time felt different.

“Agent,” Wolff said finally, his voice low and gruff, as he finished signing a report and set the pen down with deliberate precision. His piercing blue eyes lifted to meet hers. “I take it you have the intel?”

She stood straighter, her jaw tightening. “No, sir.”

The silence that followed her words was thick, suffocating. Wolff leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he regarded her with a look that was both calm and dangerous.

“No?” His voice was soft, too soft, and that made it worse.

She shook her head, holding his gaze. “There was... interference. Agent Piastri showed up. He’s working for—”

“I don’t care who he’s working for.” Wolff’s words cut through hers like a knife. “I care that you don’t have the intel you were sent to retrieve.”

She swallowed hard, knowing there was no good explanation for this. “We fought. He got in my way, and the situation escalated. By the time I—”

Wolff slammed his hand on the desk, making her flinch. “You let him distract you.” His voice was low, but laced with fury. “This isn’t the first time Piastri has interfered with one of your missions, is it?”

She gritted her teeth. “No, sir.”

“And yet, every time you come face to face with him, you come back empty-handed.” Wolff stood, walking around his desk with a measured calm that only added to the tension in the room. His tall frame cast a long shadow as he stopped in front of her. “I’m beginning to wonder if you have a weakness for him, Agent.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Absolutely not. He’s a distraction, but—”

“But nothing,” Wolff snapped. “You’re one of the best agents I’ve got, but lately it seems like Piastri has you off your game. Why is that?” He raised an eyebrow, scrutinising her in a way that made her feel exposed, vulnerable. “Why is it that whenever Agent Piastri shows up, you forget your mission?”

“I didn’t forget my mission.” Her voice was sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t help it. The insinuation that she had been anything but focused stung. “He ambushed me, and it slowed me down. I was going to—”

“You were going to what?” Wolff’s tone dripped with disappointment. “Let him slam you into a table again?” His eyes flicked over her, taking in the faint bruising on her collarbone, the subtle strain in her movements. He knew. Of course, he knew. He always knew. “I heard what happened, Agent. And don’t tell me he caught you off guard, because that’s not an excuse I’ll accept.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, biting back the anger that threatened to bubble over. He made it sound so simple. So black and white. “He’s not just anyone, sir. You know that. He’s trained, just like I am. Better, in some ways. I’m not going to pretend that he doesn’t—”

“Better?” Wolff cut her off, his voice rising for the first time. “If he’s better, it’s because you let him be. He knows how to push your buttons. That’s his strength. And you let him. Again and again, you let him get into your head.”

She winced. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know this. Oscar had a way of playing with her, of winding her up, of distracting her just enough to gain the upper hand. And she hated him for it. But more than that, she hated that Director Wolff was right.

“I didn’t let him,” she said, her voice quieter now, more controlled. “But I underestimated him. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“You’re damn right you won’t,” Wolff said, his eyes hard. He moved back to his desk, leaning on it as he folded his arms. “Because next time, if you fail to retrieve the intel because of him, I won’t be so forgiving. This is your last warning, Agent. I expect results. Not excuses. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” She said, swallowing her pride. She couldn’t afford to push back. Not now.

“Good.” He didn’t soften, didn’t let her off the hook. Instead, he straightened and looked down at her with a calculating gaze. “We have a mission coming up. A big one. I was considering putting you on the team, but if you’re going to let Piastri get the better of you again, I’ll reconsider.”

“I won’t,” she said firmly, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. “I’ll handle him.”

“You’d better,” Wolff said, his tone cold. “Because if you don’t, someone else will. And I won’t be as concerned about what happens to him—or you—next time.”

She stood there for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. Wolff wasn’t bluffing. If she didn’t prove herself, if she let Oscar interfere again, her career could be over. And worse, the agency wouldn’t hesitate to take out both of them if they became a liability.

She turned to leave, her thoughts a whirlwind of frustration, anger, and something else. Something that gnawed at the edges of her mind, though she refused to acknowledge it.

Oscar.

He’d been under her skin for too long, and now, it was affecting her missions. That couldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it.

But even as she left Wolff’s office, her heart still pounding from the confrontation, a small part of her wondered if it was already too late. Oscar Piastri wasn’t just an enemy anymore. He was something far more dangerous.

And she had to figure out how to beat him, before he beat her.

part two

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javierpena-inatacvest · 11 months ago

Text

Plaid Pajama Morning

Summary: A sleepy Sunday morning with you and Javi in bed

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1K (She's just a baby)

Warnings: Allusions to smut, Javi being a cute lil sleepyhead, reader wears Javi's shirt, sweet fluffy adorableness 🥹

A/N: Shoutout to my dear @endlessthxxghts for letting me harass them with the thought of what Javi would look like with nothing but some good ole pajama pants and messy bedhead- now here we are 🫠 Idk why the thought of this man in pajama pants has me so feral but of well 🤷🏼‍♀️

Can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

Sunlight spilled through your windows, the soft orange glow painting shadows on your bedroom walls from the curtains dancing in the crisp morning breeze. You gently stirred in your sleep, rustling the sheets and comforter around you, savoring in the warmth radiating from Javi's body as you nestled in closer to him, tucking your head against his chest and hiking up your leg over his. You felt his arm drape over your waist, tugging you in tighter as his thumb drew sleepy circles on the small of your back, the warm breath of his soft snores and dancing fingertips on your skin making a smile spread across your lips in your half awake state.

Reaching your arm up towards his face, you let your hand cradle his jaw, the scratch of his unshaven morning stubble rubbing against your palm before running your hands through the bed–headed curls at the nape of his neck. A gentle sigh grumbled low in his chest, letting both his arms wrap around you, lightly pressing a kiss in the messy curls of your morning hair.

The quiet silence of the early hours of the morning hung in the air, the sunrise just now bright enough to have you squinting your eyes, scrunching the sleep out of your face as a yawn bellowed from your belly, making you stretch your arms over Javi’s broad body. Wiggling your fingertips before bringing them back to twisting and tugging at his thick locks, your movement gradually began easing him more and more awake next to you.

“Good morning.” Javi whispered, pulling you closer to the bare skin of his chest, letting your head lean against him. You couldn’t help but savor in the familiar scent of him lingering in the sheets, the sweet and savory smell of his cologne still idling in the bed, even after being dampened by a night’s worth of rest.

“Good morning.” You grinned, your voice muffled as your words hit against his warm skin. The two of you lay there for a moment, drinking in the peaceful quiet of your sleepy Sunday morning.

“How’d you sleep, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting out his own yawn, flexing his arms above his hand before making their way back to your body, letting his hands creep under the hem of his shirt that you had worn to bed last night, sliding his fingers up and down the fabric.

“Good. I think the sunrise woke me up, sorry if I woke you up, too.” You sighed, rustling in the sheets, pulling them closer towards your face as the chill of the brisk December air filled your room, making you shiver and Javi chuckle as you wiggled against him.

“Shhhh, don’t be sorry, Osita. Glad I got to wake up to my favorite view. The sunrise is pretty nice, too.” Javi smirked, now awake enough to let his lips find yours, a tender kiss catching the quiet chuckle escaping your mouth.

“God, you’re so cheesy.” You giggled, gently shaking your head as you looked up to let your eyes meet with his, the dark brown glistening in the sunlight, making your heart melt just as fast as the first time you locked on to them.

“It’s true.” Javi grinned, planting another soft kiss on your lips as he wrapped both his arms around you pulling you so close, that you thought your bodies would meld together as one. “You want coffee?”

“I’m not sure why that’s even a question, Jav.” You teased, playfully raising an eyebrow at your husband, letting the hand resting along his jaw give his cheek a little squeeze. “Yes, please.”

With one more kiss presses against your forehead, Javi let out a grunt as he rolled out of bed, running his hand through his hair and along the back of his neck before reaching down to grab a pair of pajama pants he had begrudgingly begun to wear as he accepted defeat that the warm weather of the late summer and early fall was long gone. While it was cold enough for pajama pants, Javi had still not deemed it cold enough for a shirt, which you couldn’t complain about in the slightest.

Even with his body still slouched and sleepy, you couldn’t help but admire the muscles of his back as he stretched, your eyes trailing from the broadness of his shoulders to his waist, where his plaid pajamas sat low on his hips, the elastic waistband barely making it high enough to keep from falling off. His tanned and toned skin glowed in the morning light, accompanied by the wild curls of his untamed bedhead.

You turned over, laying on your side as you rested your hand in your chin, elbow propped against the mattress as you watched Javi disappear out of the bedroom, only to return a few minutes later with two mugs, steam curling off their tops. Setting black Laredo’s Sheriff's Department mug on his nightstand, he passed the well loved and worn “Empire Strikes Back” cup off to you, and the goofy grin plastered across your face as you watched his broad body stride across the room, back towards you.

“What’s that look for?” Javi smirked, sliding back into bed with you, shuffling himself under the sheets.

“What? I’m not allowed to admire the view either?” You giggled, biting down on your lip before taking a sip of your coffee, letting the warm liquid run through your body and making your eyes widen just a bit further at the sight of your devastatingly handsome husband sitting next to you.

“And I’m the cheesy one.” Javi teased, carefully grabbing your mug out of your hands and setting it down next to his before rolling over to cage your body under his, peppering ticklish kisses across your face and neck, making you squeal and squirm from his playfully loving touch.

“Wow, teasing me and stealing my coffee before I’m even all the way awake? You’re playing risky games there, babe.” A mischievous grin spread between your lips as Javi’s kisses began to travel their way down your body, his head beginning to disappear under the covers, stopping at your stomach and peeking back up at you with a boyish smirk.

“I think I know something that will wake you up just fine.”

Taglist

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

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sommerregenjuniluft · 5 months ago

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@jegulus-microfic june 9th — lip gloss — 1017 words — cw: slightly nsfw brought to you by james' dirty mind, tw: amab term used for reg's genitalia aka mtf regulus, red heart shaped sunglasses and james potter's thoughts about kneehigh boots

The lights in their flat are dim, music is playing and the air smells faintly of tequila and lime already.

James has been staring at Regulus reapplying her ‘lip combo’ for the past five minutes without blinking. One could reason it’s because Regulus is literally using his sunglasses as a mirror but James argues he wouldn’t have let himself miss out on this for any money in the world either way. He would have found a way to get a front row seat.

The red, heart shaped glasses on his nose do nothing to help him see but that’s why he’s got his contacts in. There’s a cool hand at James’ stubbled jaw, angling him this way and that because Regulus needs proper lighting, Jamie. Stop moving into the shadow!

First she’d fished around in her small ass purse—how does anyone even fit anything in these little things ever?—and procured a thin, dark red looking pencil of sorts. Regulus has gotten all up in his face, wiggling closer where she was sitting on his leg, rubbing her ass all over James’ lap and by God, James has never felt so lucky and tortured simultaneously.

Anyway, Regulus had started following the shape of her cupid’s bow, outlining her lips. Her hand had rested right between James’ pecs at first to steady herself, right in the middle of his chest. James hoped she couldn’t feel the wild beating of his heart, the irregular heaving of his torso. She was talking to Pandora while doing so, about some mutual friend James has no clue about but he wasn’t registering any of the words either way. Much too fascinated by the small moles next to Regulus’ left eyes, by her dark lashes, her icy blue eyes. Ruthlessly captivating, breathtaking and immobilising like the bone deep chilling northern sea.

James isn’t sure he remembers how to swim.

Next is a red lipstick. Regulus’ parts her mouth and James has to suppress a groan. He’s only mildly conscious of the way his palms make their way up over Regulus’ hips, coming to rest in the dip of her waist, thumbs windshield wiping over the silk of her green dress. It’s some sort of nightshirt, actually, with black lace detailing and clearly thrifted. Well loved but in good condition and James has been breaking his brain over what she might be wearing underneath for the better part of the last hour. Ever since Regulus had stepped over the threshold of their flat in her kneehigh boots and that flimsy excuse of a dress that James wants to see crumpled on the floor of his bedroom rather than anywhere else. Preferably while Regulus is splayed out naked on top of his sheets, tits out, cock out. The boots can stay on.

“Fuck,” present James mutters quietly, blinking himself out of his obscene fantasies. Regulus’ leg adjusts and brushes against where James is starting to fill out in his pants.

James squirms.

“Stop that,” Regulus tsks, tightening her hold on his chin.

The yes, ma’am on the tip of James’ tongue nearly tumbles out but he manages to swallow it back in time.

James tries to glance around the general area around them out of the corners of his eyes, “Is your brother around?”

“Why?” she asks immediately. Her lips are completely filled out with a deep berry sort of red now. Then Regulus is digging around in her purse again.

“Just ’cause,” James replies offhandedly, shrugging.

Regulus hums, low and deep, sceptical and it’s so unfairly sexy. James licks his lips and sighs a long breath out. Level head, Potter, he tells himself. Level head.

The final step seems to be lip gloss. It’s not clear and translucent but rather has a bit of a milky quality to it.

James chokes on nothing.

Regulus takes it up to her lips and spreads the fluid on her full red lips. It creates a foggy sheen and James is powerless against the mental images of cum slick lips. Both of their cum mixed, James licking it from Regulus’ stomach and then climbing back up. Hovering and tugging at her lower lip until she opens obediently like a good girl and lets James spit it right onto her mouth.

Regulus leans closer and makes some little p-p-p noises where she smacks her lips together to even out the gloss, presumably. James doesn’t know. Don’t ask James anything right now because the gloss is kind of pulling strings and James is this close to doing something violently indecent to his best friend’s little sister.

Regulus puts the gloss away and then taps against James’ cheek, announcing happily, “Thank you.”

“Any time,” James mumbles.

He expects her to stand up now, join Pandora where she’s conversing with other people on the sofa, but instead Regulus wraps her arms around the back of James’ neck, keeping the close distance. “Y’know,” she starts, shifting in James’ lap, “I haven’t seen Sirius in a while. In fact, I think he might have gone off with Loopy.”

“Lupin,” James corrects automatically, trying to make sense of what Regulus is saying. She’s so warm and soft pressed against him, it’s distracting.

Regulus makes a whatever noise and tilts her head, “I’m guessing they went to his flat instead. Rumour has it, it’s close by.”

James nods in affirmation because that’s true. Remus does live close by.

Regulus’ fingers wind themselves into the curls at James’ nape, “Smart lads. Going somewhere a little more private.”

James nods again, numbly. He feels stupid in the head.

“By the way,” Regulus keeps going, “Have I seen your room in this flat yet?”

And James might be stupid but he’s not an idiot.

A slow grin spreads over his face and then James has to lean forward to muffle an equally happy as aroused groan into the crook of Regulus’ pale neck.

“Is that a yes?”

James leaves a kiss on her cheek when he pulls back, squeezes her hips and then lifts them both off the chair, ushering Regulus through the crowd and into his room.

When they come back out, Regulus’ legs are wobbly and there’s red lipstick stains all over James’ mouth and neck and the heady taste of cum in his mouth.

#jegulus microfic #jegulus #trans fem regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #trans regulus #james potter #regulus black #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #mtf regulus #mtf regulus black #lune’s tiny fic

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entername322 · 11 months ago

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Beautiful Symphony

Minji (New Jeans) x Male Reader

Length: 13204

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Warm, that's the first thing Minji noticed as her consciousness starts to come back. Then the smell, an addicting brew from the mixture of bodily fluid that you and her ooze last night. “Morning cutie”, Your voice, reverberating all over the empty room, kick-starts her brain. She opened your eyes to see your smiling face, not the lusty and hungry smile from last night, rather a warm and loving smile. “Morning oppa”, She smiled before crawling forward to kiss you.

“Hmmm, you need to brush your teeth”, She scoffed and retaliated by slapping you, “Are you tired?” She nods her head, although it's more like she's rubbing her head all over your chest with a motion that resembles a nod, but that's a mouthful to say. “Hey, stop that, you'll leave a burn mark”, You pulled out her head making her frown at you. “Hahahahha, oh god, you're so cute sometimes”, She knows it, but she wants you to reward her for being cute.

You gave her a kiss which is enough, for now, “Hey stop daydreaming”, You blow some air into her face making her open her eyes. “I'm hungry, so why don't you go brush your teeth and wash your face so we could go out and get breakfast”, Minji shook her head and hugged you tighter, “Babe, please?” She sighed and sat up, “Let's go then”, She grabbed your hand trying to pull you up. “Oh no, I've already brushed my teeth and washed my face when you are busy sleeping”, Minji frowned at you before leaping in to get another kiss. “Still come with me oppa”, She grabbed your hand and pulled you up.

“I have to go till night today, I might not come back here today”, Minji glared at you through the mirror as she is brushing her teeth. “I got some matters to attend to, I'll see you tomorrow”, She quickly finished brushing her teeths and cleaned her mouth. Then she turned around to look at you, anger and jealousy was written all over it.

"Night?" Minji's voice was husky, thick with sleep and something else – a shadow of suspicion that sent a shiver down your spine. You met her gaze, her eyes narrowed, searching for cracks in your façade. "Band practice, internship, the usual grind," you said, your voice lighter than air, barely a brushstroke against the taut canvas of her suspicion. "Thought I'd give you the morning to yourself”, How thoughtful of you.

The silence that followed was pregnant with unspoken accusations. You knew this game was dangerous, playing with fire you couldn't control. Minji's possessiveness, once endearing, now loomed like a storm cloud, ready to unleash its fury. "And Haewon?" she spat, the name a poisoned dart piercing the fragile bubble of your lie. "Is she part of your 'usual grind' too?” The question hung heavy, a bitter pill coated with suspicion. Haewon. Just a name, a footnote in a story already written. You hated yourself for using her, for dangling her ghost before Minji's eyes, just to see the flames of jealousy lick at the edges of her love.

"Haewon is-" you started, but Minji cut you off, her voice cracking with a raw vulnerability that twisted your insides. "Nothing? Like I'm just a distraction until your precious Haewon decides to make up with you again?" she hissed, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Thrill starts to crept up on you, this charade, this twisted puppet show you were orchestrating, it's beautiful. The urge to push, to see how far you could bend her before she snapped, remained a serpent coiled in your heart. Taking a deep breath, you reached out, a tentative touch tracing the curve of her jaw. "No, Minji," you whispered, the words choked with regret. "You're not a distraction, you're… everything. I'm just…”

With inhuman speed she jumped into you, her hand grabbing your cheeks as she crashed her lips onto yours. You had to hold her up again, the same way you did on your first kiss last night. The kiss felt raw, passionate, filled with unbridled rage that has ignited inside her. It was ecstatic, you wonder how much can you get away with? How far is too far until the relationship between you and Minji got ruined? For now, you'll carefully dance around the edge, try to find the line you can not cross, try to, ruin her.

“I'll spend time with you until lunch, but at lunch I'll have to go meet up with my friends”, Her body tensed up, the paranoia and anger has overtaken her. “You don't have to go, just stay here with me oppa”, She's right, you don't have to go, especially because you don't really have plans for the day. “I do, but come on, stop being so gloomy, I'll spend time with you till lunch. I promise I'll make it up for you”, She felt itchy all over her body, just the thought that you'll be gone, doing god knows what, it infuriates her. “You don't have to make it up to me, if you stay at home with me”, You carry her back to the bed, gently laying her down as your hand starts to undress yourself. “How about this then, I'll fuck you and emptied my balls inside you. That way I won't be able to go and have fun with Haewon even if I want to, not that I ever want to do it”

The proposal intrigues her, but she still doesn't want you to leave her. Her life has been so empty for a while that she just can't let go of the person who manages to bring some warmth into it. “Come on babe, don't you want me to fill you up again”, You pull up her hoodie and your finger starts tracing around her belly. Instantly she remembered the hot burning sensation you gave her last night. How addictive and pleasurable it was. Just like that, you managed to convince her.

“Fine”, She undressed herself as well, her eyes staring at you hungrily, wanting nothing else but to eat you whole. “I want to try something first oppa”, Her hand grabbed your cock, gently holding on to it as if it might just break if she wasn't being careful. “Oh? Here I thought you were a pure girl”, Oh she is, until two days ago. Scared of embarrassing herself Minji has done a few, research, regarding sex. She did it just for you, how romantic.

Minji slowly caressed your cock to make it erect. It was a bit of a slow process but seeing how eager she was to suck your cock made you feel a little excited. Her hand wrapped around your shaft and stroked your cock up and down as she looked up to me and smiled. She moved in closer and kissed the tip before licking it like a popsicle. Her small face made you feel like your cock has grown larger, maybe your ego needs to be kept in check soon, before it gets out of control.

She slowly moved her lips down to the head of your cock and started to suck. It goes in halfway before she starts letting out some gagging sounds. “Don't need to take it all in babe, it's your first time after all”, Your word of reassurance only made her feel insecure. “Don't give me those eyes, I mean it, it's okay, nobody can't take my full length with their mouth anyway”, Damn, calm down with the bragging dude. Minji felt content with your words, slowly she moved her head back and forth as she sucked on it, looking up to you while she did it. Her eyes are begging for your approval.

“Good girl”, She squeals, giving you some funny feeling on your cock. The compliment made Minji feel more excited as she stepped up her game. She slurped on it doing some very sloppy and messy blowjob. She looks up at you, her eyes red and tears falling down her cheek, she sucks your cock like her life depends on it. Moan after moan came out of her mouth, which made you wonder, how dirty of a girl is she? She grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled you closer to her as she sucked you harder. Her spit starts bubbling around her lips making a very thick liquid concoction as it mixes with your precum.

“Enough baby girl, let's get to the main course shall we?” She wanted to protest as you pulled her off your cock, “Did I do bad?” The cute pout seems to contrast very hard with all those saliva running down her lips and chin. “You did great, I just want to fuck you right now”, Hearing that you didn't stop her out of pity, she excitedly turns around and offer you her pussy. “Look at you, so wet already?” Your finger starts playing around with her hole, “Ahhhh, oppa, you said you want to fuck me already”, Minji doesn't like when she's being bullied like this. “I'll do what I want, babeee~” Yet she really likes it when you get so aggressive and dominant.

As you start fingering her, you wonder how on earth did you managed to fuck her last night. “Oppa, stop playing around”, Her stomach is already hungry for your cum. “Fine, take a deep breath”, She smiled full of anticipation as you slowly slid your cock into her pussy. The tightness is almost suffocating to you, yet you persist and push deeper. The moment she swallowed your whole cock her leg starts to quiver, “Oppaaaaa”, You just made her cum.

“Hehehehe, this is fun”, The sight is amusing to you, especially since Minji's face is trying to keep her cool and fails. “Haaaa, haaaa, haaaa, oppa, move”, Despite her apparent fatigue she still wants you to fuck her. “Okay babe”, You started slow, not wanting to break her. Yet with how sensitive she is, even the slow movement is enough to make her moan and shivers. “You're gonna lose your mind if I continue this”, You tried to warn her, but Minji doesn't like that you're pitying her. “Just, fuck me, oppa”, Whatever Minji wants, she'll get it. You pick up your pace and start pounding her for real this time.

Minji tried her best to keep herself in check, yet her moans can't lie to you. After a minute of pounding she already reached her second orgasm. “Oppaaaa”, She screams, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her legs locked on to your waist, her pussy is strangling your cock as she squirts all over you. Due to the leg lock you can't really continue fucking her, although you really want to.

“Baby, look at you, you're already so defeated”, Come on now, stop bullying the poor girl, “I can still take it oppa”, Her tears are falling down her cheeks already. “Really?” She nodded furiously, “Okay, one more chance okay? If you cum again then I'll stop”, She nodded. Of course you wouldn't make this easy for her, you leaned down and started kissing her as your waist went to work. Minji tried her best to focus on your mouth, the sweet taste of your lips, the fight between your tongues, the… it's really hard to disregard the huge cock that's breaking her in two right now.

“Oppa, cum sooner please”, She said it with such adorable tone you can't help but laugh, “I'm not joking, cum in me oppa, I can't wait anymore”, Thankfully for her, those cute gestures really push you over the edge. “Fuck I'm cumming”, Minji immediately grabbed your head and pull you for another kiss. She moans and screams into your mouth as she is trying to hold her orgasm. Then the warm feeling she's been waiting for came and all her walls crumbled. Both of your bodies are intertwined, Minji is pressing on to you so hard there's probably not a single pocket of air between the two of you.

It was heavenly, for both you and her. Minji felt like she might pass out any moment, the sudden increase of dopamine in her brain caused it to short circuit. Her body is also dying from the three consecutive orgasm, yet her hand just won't let you go. “Babe, let go of me, let's cuddle for a second”, You drag her to get in position in the bed for cuddling. Her breathing starts to slow down as her eyes are struggling to stay open. “Go rest up baby, you had your breakfast already”, She smiled victoriously before dropping her head on your shoulder.

“I don't want you to go oppa”, She whimpered, “I have to baby”, One day she will learn how to read through your lies, then you will be fucked. “But what about me?” She looks at you like a lost puppy. “You’ll be fine baby, you're a strong girl. You can handle one day without me right?” Minji felt scared, just the thought of going back to her quiet lonely days is haunting. “I need you oppa”, She sobbed, “Ssshhhh, babe, I'll be gone for one day, I promise I'll make it up to you didn't I?” Always pull her harder after you pushed her away, you've mastered this scummy technique huh. “I want a date”, Yeah that was already part of your plan, “I want oppa to sing for me”, That one too, “And I want oppa to make me pregnant”, Okay not that one though.

“You're insane babe, you're not ready for a baby, neither am I”, You can't really see Minji since she's pressing her back to you, yet you can already tell she's frowning. “I don't care”, With how childish she is, getting a kid would end up with you babysitting two childs. “You’ll care when you realise getting pregnant means we won't have sex for 8 months”, She didn't think of that, “Oppa, please?” Oh right you're forgetting something, “I need to buy you some birth control pills, I'll be back”, Minji was thoroughly pissed when you let go of the cuddle, she turned around to find you already leaving the room. “OPPAAA”, You hear her screams echoing the hallway as you run off into the sun. “This will be fun”

“Alright, so you're gonna tell me everything or what?” Your dad finally got home after 3 days in vacation, yes you do realise it was a vacation as soon as you heard your mom also left. “Dad, did you and mom plan this out?” He shrugged, acting carefree despite there's some excitement and worry in his mind. “Weirdos”, Quite hypocritical of you, “Says the guy who cheated on his girlfriend for his new sister”, You know what? Your dad is weirder than you since he doesn't seem to care that much about it. “Okay, just tell me what did you and mom planned for me and Minji?” You decide that it's not the time to talk about Haewon.

“Well, as you may have known, Minji is not exactly a very sociable person. Jinwoo is very concerned for her. So as any parents would, she tried to find someone to befriend her”, You put out your hand to stop him, “Befriend?” He laughs and nods. “That was the initial plan. However she met me, and we got in a relationship. The talk about introducing you to Minji has been around for awhile. I think it was around the time we plan to announce our relationship to the two of you that she plan to just play matchmaker and try to hook you two up”

You stay silent for a while, “You two are an idiot”, Well that's kinda rich coming from you don't you think? “I told her it might have gone wrong, but she insisted that you won't be able to handle Minji's charm. Your mom is very good at judging characters you see”, Is it judging characters or just straight up omniscience? “Okay so now me and Minji have become a thing, and you two are fine with it?” He nods, hiding his worry for now. “And if things went wrong, the two of you will take full responsibility for the family drama?” They won't, but your father nods.

“So, you two are getting married then?” You tried to change the topic, “Yes, in December”, There's this little question that hangs around in your mind, which surprises you. For now you'll just leave that question alone, after all you might still be too high with the moment to think clearly. “I think, Minji wants us to move together”, It was pretty obvious due to how vocal she is with her dislike of leaving you for the last few days. “Figured, we do plan to move in together soon, me and Jiwoo of course”, Living together like that might prove to be complicated.

“Why don't you, move with mom, Minji and I can stay here”, Very bold proposal bro, “That can be arranged”, Seeing your dad just approve it makes you anxious. “Really?” He laughs seeing your bewildered face, “Yeah boy, we can deal with that. Do you want us too or not?” Do you want to have a full empty house to yourself so you can have sex with Minji everyday? “Yes”

The next day, you came back to Minji to update her on the talk you had with your dad, also the future plans. The words, "we're moving in together," hung in the air, vibrating between you and Minji like tangible threads of your future. Her eyes, wide with a disbelief that morphed into pure, unadulterated joy, were like fireworks exploding in slow motion, each spark a reflection of the sunbeam dancing on her nose. "Really?" she breathed, her voice a delicate whisper, barely audible above the excited thump of her heart. You could see it, the question hanging in her eyes, the echo of past insecurities threatening to steal the spotlight from this moment.

"Really," you confirmed, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. Your thumb lingered on her cheek, tracing the soft curve of her smile, a silent assurance that this wasn't some fleeting dream, but a sturdy brick laid in the foundation of your love. The dam of her happiness burst then, flooding her entire being. A shriek that contained all the pent-up joy, excitement, and relief of a thousand insecure whispers, erupted from her. She jumped into your arms, her laughter a melody against your heartbeat, her tiny fists pummeling your chest playfully.

The sunbeam on her nose flickered like a dying ember, replaced by a glint of something darker, something predatory. An unnerving stillness descended, broken only by the frantic drumming of her heart against your chest.

Just you and me oppa. No distractions, no Haewon, no whispers and touch from any other girls. It will only be you and me.

You've noticed these changes, Minji's golden eyes, once pools of sunshine, shimmered with obsidian depths as she spoke of your shared home. No, it wasn't just joy radiating from her, it was the glint of a dragon guarding its hoard, the intoxicating aroma of a love so absolute it bordered on smothering. And you, my oh my, you relished every charred note. "Together," she breathed, the word a possessive caress, "just us...in our own world", You chuckled, a low, dangerous rumble that sent shivers down her spine, just to watch the fire in her eyes flicker with a touch of uncertainty. Yes, let the doubt creep in, let the fear linger, for it was in those cracks that your obsession took root.

"Always, Minji," you murmured, the word dripping with honeyed deceit. You traced the curve of her jaw, her skin like warm satin under your fingertips, a fleeting touch that promised eternity. She leaned into you, a moth drawn to a flame, unaware of the inferno she danced with. "No secrets, oppa," she purred, a silk-wrapped threat. "No more 'band practice' or 'internships' to hide behind. Just us, woven together, you know what moving in together means right?" You smiled, a predator savouring the thrill of the hunt. Yes, let her weave her web, let her trap herself in the gilded cage of her own devotion.

The possessive tremor in her voice, once a source of amusement, now sang a melody of exquisite dissonance. This love, hers, it wasn't a symphony; it was a cacophony of desperation, a twisted masterpiece you were eager to conduct. You, the orchestrator, the puppeteer, the master of this danse macabre. "A haven, oppa," she whispered, her fingers tracing invisible circles on your chest, branding you with her touch. "A haven just for us”, You let the word echo in the air, a gilded cage morphing into a labyrinth of your own design. Yes, let her believe you were the captive, the bird trapped in her song. The irony, oh, the intoxicating irony.

For as she spun her web, thread by thread, brick by brick, she was building not a prison for you, but a mausoleum for herself. Each whispered promise, each possessive gesture, etched your name deeper into her soul, leaving no room for anything but you. You, the poison in her veins, the obsession in her eyes, the only melody her heart could play. You, the wolf in sheep's clothing, the puppet master playing with strings of devotion. She, your willing prisoner, slowly, deliciously consumed by the inferno of her own making.

The lines, oh, the lines had blurred beyond recognition. Were you the hunter, or were you the hunted? The answer, a delicious enigma that danced on your lips, was both and neither. You were two sides of the same coin, bound by obsession, tethered by the twisted cord of a love that devoured and consumed. In this game of hearts, there were no winners, only survivors. And as you watched Minji's eyes, once radiant, now burning with the feverish glow of your design, you knew, with a wicked twist of your lips, that the only real prisoner here was her, her heart a gilded cage locked around your name. “Take off your clothes oppa”, Minji said, removing her sweater, “Isn't your mom right down the hall?” Look at her, such an innocent sheep, broken beyond belief after tasting the sweet fruits of sins. “She won't mind”

The two of you dived into each other, both of your hands are busy undressing the other person while your lips are interlocked together. As you take off her sweater you abandon the kiss and went to her tits. “Oh, yeah oppa, that feels good”, Your held her body close as your mouth start devouring on her tits. You bite her nipple, maybe a little too hard than you usually do, “Fuck oppa, more”, Yet she likes it. Oh yeah, she will be perfect for your sadistic tendencies. “Let me leave you a mark okay babe? So you don't miss me when I'm gone”, She nods so quickly her head might fall off.

First one, right around her nipples, a beautiful cage right around her stiff nipple. “Fuck, oppa, that's it, just like that”, Minji starts to whimper as her hand are pushing your head deeper into her. “Beautiful”, You kissed her nipple as you watch the first mark. “Ohhhhh, I love you oppa”, Minji moaned as she sees the bite mark, “Now, now, I'm not done yet”, The second one, at her cleavage, usually you left this on Haewon and let her parade it around. Of course Minji never leave her house, but the hickey will be enough for her to see everytime she glances under her shirt. “Fuck oppa, come here” as you finished your second mark Minji pulled you in for another kiss, her hips start grinding on you.

“Babe, one more?” You break off the kiss and start grinning, “One more okay? Then we fuck”, Minji's pussy is sorry itchy for you, but the whole marking things are too good to pass on. “Thanks babe”, You peck her lips before moving to the final mark, her collarbone. “Ohhhh, oppa”, She shivers as your lips touched her skin. Your tongue slowly licked around the bones, sending shivers down her spine. Then your lips created a vacuum like seal before your teeth sinks into her skin. “FUCKKK OPPA, you're gonna make me CUMMM”, Her legs wrapped around your waist as her hand locked your head in, then her orgasm came.

“OPPAAAA”, You would go deaf if she keeps screaming like that, also her mom probably has figured out what's happening in here. “Oppa, you're such a bully”, Minji panted as her exhaustion starts to show, “Am I? Don't you like being bullied babe?” You kissed her cheek before throwing her off to the bed. “No I'm not”, Yet her squirming legs tells you otherwise. “Sure babe, I trust you”, You laughed and pull down her pants and then yours.

“Fuck me oppa, and stop bullying me”, You laughed and aligned your cock with her entrance, “You're ready?” She nodded furiously. Then you shoved it in, except that it doesn't went in, your cock just slid through her pussy, grinding on the outside. “Oppa”, She let out s frustrated cries, “Oh ooppps, my bad”, Minji frowns harder trying to show she's angry, although you can see she's getting aroused by this. “Should I put it in babe?” You used your cock to rub around her pussy, making her body shakes around. “Yes, oppa please”, She moaned, “Be a good girl and beg for it”, You said.

“Oppa please fuck me, I need your cock, I need your hot load inside me, please split me in two oppa”, Well, she got you there. “Fuck you're so tight babe”, You moaned as you plunge into her. “Fuck, you're just too big oppa”, She moans, her hand grabbed on the sheets as you pound her. “Fuck oppa, harder, fuck me harder and cum inside me, please fill me up oppa”, Her small whimpers are getting more and more desperate as another orgasm is building up inside her.

Her walls are tightening around you again, milking out the warm milk she's been addicted to. Your hips keeps on crashing on to hers making her body jiggle in every touch. With every thrust your cock is fighting against her inner wall. Every day, slowly but surely you've been reshaping her pussy to be the perfect vessel for your cock. “Fuck oppa, I'm cumming”, Minji moaned, your hand pinched her nipples making her let out a scream of ecstasy, “Take my seed babe”, You groaned as you plunge yourself as deep as possible. The two of you are connected, the waves of pleasure and ecstasy are washing over each other.

As the waves subside, you collapse on to her, not our of fatigue, you just want to press her down on the bed. “Oppa, you feel so warm inside me”, Minji also like it, being pressured like this by you, it's so hot. “I know babe, we should take a shower”, She smiles and kiss you, “Let's go together, the bathroom has better sound insulation, so mom don't need to hear us longer than she needs to”, Well, one round is certainly hasn't been enough for the two of you.

Haewon's voice, normally a sweet melody, turned into a serrated knife scraping against your nerves. "Breaking up? What do you mean breaking up?!" Her anger, raw and palpable, hung heavy in the air, suffocating the sterile atmosphere of her room. You swallowed, forcing a smile filled with deceitful guilt and anxiousness. "Haewon, sweetheart”, You began, choosing your words carefully, "It's not you, it's me." The age-old cliche, twisted to serve your purpose. "These fights, they're tearing us apart. You deserve someone who makes you happy, someone who doesn't…" your voice dipped low, feigning regret, "bring out the worst in you."

Her face, a storm cloud of fury, contorted with disbelief. "The worst in me?" she spat, her voice cracking. "Is that what you're calling it? Me not wanting you to spend every night at the 'office' me questioning your sudden need for 'alone time,' me asking for some semblance of… normalcy?" You shook your head, acting as the sorrowful martyr. "See, that's what I mean. The accusations, the mistrust. It's toxic, Haewon. We're just… incompatible." The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you held firm. You had to. This façade, this twisted narrative, was your only escape from her, an escape, to the gilded cage you've prepared for the one true love you have.

"Incompatible?" she scoffed, a hollow laugh escaping her lips. "We were perfect, remember? You said it yourself, you and I were made for each other. Just a few weeks ago, and now… incompatible?" You sighed, feigning exasperation. "Things change, Haewon. People change. I'm evolving, moving on, and you… you need someone who can handle being left behind." The cruelty of your words, veiled in concern, struck her like a physical blow. You saw it in her eyes, the flicker of pain battling with the rising tide of rage. This, you knew, was your most dangerous gamble. Push her too far, and you risked losing control, your meticulously crafted web unravelling before your eyes.

But the alternative, it's too disastrous, she is an unpredictable variable in your game with Minji. Having her around could be, unwise. You needed to let her go, even if it meant breaking her in the process. "Left behind?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're the one leaving, the one choosing your ‘internship’ fantasies over me, over… us."

You leaned closer, your voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Haewon, baby”, you murmured, "think of it as… a sacrifice. I'm setting you free from this unhealthy attachment, from a love that was… consuming you." The gaslight, subtle yet potent, began to take hold. You saw the doubt creep into her eyes, the flicker of self-blame replacing the fire of her anger. It was a delicate dance, this manipulation, a waltz on the edge of her emotions.

"Consuming… me?" she echoed, her voice trembling. "Is that what this was? My love for you… toxic?" The final blow. You placed a hand on her cheek, your touch a feather-light caress. "It wasn't healthy, Haewon. We both know that. And sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go. Do you remember how you were before you met me? A model student, perfect attendance, perfect grade, perfect, everything. When was the last time you got an A in a test? How many class did you attend this last few months?" Her eyes, once pools of adoration, were now glazed with a mix of pain and confusion. You had woven your web, spun your narrative, and she, trapped in the cocoon of your lies, began to believe it.

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the unspoken consequences of your manipulation. You had won, for now, but the victory tasted like ashes in your mouth. You have to let her go, yes, but at what cost? As you looked at Haewon, her spirit slowly withering under the weight of your deceit, you knew one thing for certain: even if the chain you formed on her neck was opened, the memory you've left in her heart will not go away. An invisible mark to the darkness that danced within you, the darkness, that had corrupted her.

I never hated you Hae, I always looks up to you. You were such a perfect girl, you just happened to catch my eyes.

You like her, it's just that, she's not Minji. It was her greatest sin, not being the girl you loved. Even the sight of her crumbling down isn't fun to watch. Those perverse thoughts can not manifest in your mind. It was as if Hyde looked at her and just snorted before looking the other way. The only things you feel for her, are compassion, and empathy. “I'm sorry Hae, I really do, but things got complicated at dad's place. I might have to drop out”, A flurry of emotions washes over Haewon, on one hand, she was panicking that the two of you might not meet again. On the other hand, she felt somewhat glad that she can go through her breakup without having to deal with meeting you everyday.

“Hae, I like you okay? I really do, which is why I wanted what's best for you. We both know that we can't deal with distances. If we continue this, things would just crumble even harder. I really hope, and I mean it when I say this, I really hope you didn't see this as me being selfish. Sometimes, people just don't work out. I was, this sounds so cringe, but I was honoured to be your first love. I just wish I would never have to be your first heartbreak”

Such a beautifully crafted poem, sounds so natural too, Haewon really finds that speech to be something you would come up with. “I really didn't expect things to go down this way”, Never in her mind she thinks that you found someone else, you've crafted a perfect image of herself in her mind. “Neither do I, but you know, life”, Her laugh was filled with pain and nostalgia. “Can we still be friends?” Yeah, that could work, a friendly ex is much more manageable than a public girlfriend. “Yeah, sure, why not?” A glimmer of hope blossoms in her heart, but this isn't hope, even though she acknowledged this friendly relationship could turn this break up to be much harder for her, she disregards it. “Then, can we do it one more time? A farewell for our love?”

After calming Haewon down, you promised her that you'll still be friends, before leaving her to own her demise. You decided to go to Minji's place, without changing your clothes. Once you got there, you saw Minji's anger simmered like a neglected pot of tea, the air thick with her unspoken accusations. You stepped through the door, weary from the emotional battlefield you'd just navigated, only to be met with her fiery gaze. "Where were you?" She spat, her voice tight with suspicion. "Hours. Gone. Alone."

You feigned a weary sigh, slumping onto the couch. "Haewon," you mumbled, the name of a bitter pill on your tongue. "She needed me, breakup, you know, messy stuff."

Minji's eyes, normally shimmering with adoration, narrowed to dangerous slits. "I know, but you said it won't take more than an hour”, Thousands of voices start painting a sickening picture in her mind. "Things changed”, You cut in, your voice clipped, playing the role of the reluctant victim. "She couldn't handle it well. She needed someone to calm her down, someone who…" you trailed off, letting the silence hang heavy, an eerie pause to fuel her insecurities.

The smell, of course, hadn't escaped her scrutiny. The faint sweetness of Haewon's perfume, the musky aroma of a hurried embrace, clung to you like an invisible accusation. Your clothes, rumpled and slightly damp, spoke volumes of the emotional storm you'd weathered. "Liar", she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and hurt. "You reek of sweat, and her”, she added, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Whose sweat was it oppa?" She sat on your lap, pressing her body against you.

The question struck you like a drug. The haphazardly constructed lie, your bait against her possessiveness, it was a fuel to the fire. You stammered, acting weirdly, mumbling around some nonsense, letting out some choked words here and there. “It's hot, Minji”, you choked out, the words sounding pathetic even to your own ears. "We… talked, cried, you know how it is”, But Minji wasn't buying it. Her eyes, once pools of molten gold, were now icy daggers, piercing through your facade. You saw the doubt slithering in, a venomous snake coiling around her heart.

"Talked?" She scoffed, a humourless laugh escaping her lips. "For hours? In a sweaty mess, smelling like her cheap perfume? Do you think I'm a gullible idiot oppa?” The heat of her anger was both intoxicating and addicting. You felt the familiar thrill of manipulation rising, the urge to twist the narrative, to turn her insecurities into weapons against herself. A seed of doubt had been planted, a tiny crack in the dam of your lies. "Minji," you began, trying to reach for her hand, but she recoiled like a frightened animal. "It's not what you think. I swear…" Your words hung in the air, unanswered, as the silence between you grew louder than any accusation. You had pushed her, toyed with her insecurities, and now, the monster you'd created stared back at you, its eyes filled with a raw, primal rage.

Minji's touch, once a feather-light caress, became a desperate claw digging into your arm. Her scent, the sweet lavender now laced with the acrid tang of unshed tears, filled your lungs like a storm cloud. The air crackled with unspoken accusations, the silence a gaping maw waiting to swallow you whole. "Promise me," she rasped, her voice raw with a mix of fury and exhaustion. "Promise me it was nothing."

Each word was a jagged shard, slicing through the carefully constructed facade you'd built. Her eyes, once pools of molten gold, were now storm-tossed seas, threatening to drown you in their depths. You tasted the usual cocktail of amusement and control, slowly getting drunk off of her. "Of course, it was just a rough break up for her”, You stammered, showing off a made up guilt to poison her mind further. The puppeteer clinging to his strings, the predator savouring the edge of the precipice.

She leaned in, her face inches from yours, searching for the flicker of truth behind the mask of your devotion. Her breath, hot and ragged, mingled with the cloying sweetness of your lies. "Then tell me," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "Tell me everything. Every touch, every word, every stolen glance. Make me see her, make me understand, so I can fill the space she left in your heart"

The challenge, the raw vulnerability in her eyes, ignited a spark of something akin to… respect. This wasn't a pawn anymore, not a puppet dancing to your tune. This was a queen, battered but not broken, demanding answers, reclaiming her throne. You tried your best to hide your smile, suppressing the urge to welcome the new Minji into your world. For the first time, the thrill of manipulation exploded, enthralled by a flicker of…. The final act.

"Minji," you began, your voice rough with a truth you hadn't planned to share. "It… it wasn't much. Just a conversation, a hug, a reminder of what we almost-" But her lips, once a source of endless pleasure, cut you off. A kiss, fierce and desperate, slammed into yours, a drowning man grasping at straws. It was a plea, a demand, a desperate attempt to exorcise the ghost of Haewon from your soul. As you kiss her back the taste of sweet victory is mingling on your lips. Every day you spent with her has ruined her, soon she will be the perfect doll for your puppet show.

She pulled away, her eyes searching yours, not for confirmation, but for a flicker of understanding. A silent plea, not for forgiveness, but for a future where Haewon was a forgotten memory, a footnote in the epic novel of your love.

"Just… promise me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Promise me she's just a whisper in the wind, a memory soon to fade. Promise me she's nothing”, The plea, so naked and desperate, ignited a strange, twisted thrill within you. A beautiful symphony ringing in your ears. “Of course baby, Haewon and me is just an old tale, something you no longer need to care about”, The moment your lips touched her cheeks she felt a suffocating hunger for control. “And the smell", she whispered, her voice barely audible, "It'll vanish, right? It will wash away, alongside all the marks she left you?” The desperate plea in her voice has changed into a stern demand for your obedience.

"My love belongs only to you, Minji”, You purred, your fingers tracing the curve of her jaw, a phantom brand claiming her as yours. "The scent, the touch, they are nothing but a vivid memory, they'll fade away soon enough”, Her thumb gently caressed your cheek as you speak, and the moment you finished your answer it moved to start tracing around your lips. “Then let's have sex”, In a split second you decided that you wanted to plant seeds of doubt in her mind, and having sex would turn that doubt into a confirmation of your affair. “We have to move out tomorrow, let's get some rest for that. Also, dealing with Haewon for the day has drained me, I need some rest”, All the bells are ringing in Minji's mind, those paranoia are tearing her mind apart.

“Okay”, Her voice sounds cold and distant, even her eyes are hollow and emotionless, “Thank you babe, let's get some rest”, Unlike usual she didn't react at all as you kissed her cheek. “Tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and so on until forever. You'll only have me right oppa? I'm your one and only?” Her voice almost sounds robotic, cold and stiff, jeez you don't plan to break her down this fast.

Minji's voice, once a melody that wrapped around you like silk, now scraped your nerves like a rusty blade. You leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she remained stiff, a porcelain doll devoid of warmth. "Of course, babe", You murmured, the lie tasting like ashes on your tongue. "Always just you”, Her cold, hollow eyes stared into yours, searching for something you were careful not to reveal. The thrill of manipulation, usually intoxicating, curdled in your gut, replaced by a gnawing unease. You hadn't meant to break her, not this quickly, not to turn her into this emotionless servant. You'd envisioned a slow burn, a gradual descent into obsession, not this robotic devotion devoid of even the embers of anger.

As you crawled into bed, Minji followed, her movements strangely mechanical. She nestled close, her body has become a foreign landscape you barely recognized. You craved the firecracker warmth she used to radiate, the spontaneous touch, the whispered secrets. Now, she was a chilling mirror reflecting the monster you'd created. Sleep eluded you. Minji, despite her stillness, pulsed with an unsettling energy. You felt her gaze burning into you, a dark star charting the map of your body. Was this part of the new Minji? This cold calculation, this predatory gleam in her eyes? Your twisted amusement had given way to a prickling sensation of uneasiness, a whisper of regret playing on the edge of your mind. Had you unleashed a force you could no longer control? A puppet is only fun to play with they can struggle, when they don't know the strings above them and have the illusion of control. A literal puppet, an inanimate doll that would just follow your every move isn't an enjoyable toy. You want the struggle, the possibility of losing, this Minji, isn't in the form you want her to be in.

Her hand grazed yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Before you could react, she sank her teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder, a hiss escaping her lips. Pain lanced through you, but it was the raw possessiveness in her eyes that truly aroused your reaction. It was a brutal mark, a claim in crimson ink, the first brushstroke on her twisted masterpiece. You felt annoyed by the sheer audacity of it all, should you calm her down? Or just finish her transformation soon? Would finishing it cause her to be even more boring for you?

"Minji," you croaked, the word catching in your throat. "What are you doing?" Her smile, when it came, was devoid of warmth, a predator eyeing its kill. "Marking you, oppa", she whispered, her voice a silken snare. "Making you mine, forever and always. Just you and me, a world with no distractions”, You were caught in a whirlwind of your own making, the thrill of manipulation swirling dangerously close to the edge of terror. You saw the future stretching before you, a path painted in blood and obsession, a cold path with no one else but you and her.

The crimson mark on your shoulder throbbed, a pulsing reminder of the new Minji, the one you'd sculpted from the ruins of her trust. You weren't scared, not truly. The thrill, the raw audacity of it, was a potent cocktail coursing through your veins. Yet, a shadow of doubt, a flicker of something akin to….. responsibility, perhaps, gnawed at the edges of your amusement. The hunt, oh, the hunt was exquisite. The dance of manipulation, the gradual unravelling of her sanity, that was where the true pleasure lay. Watching her transform into this possessive, cold-blooded creature, a twisted reflection of your own desires, was like watching a masterpiece unfold stroke by agonising stroke.

But the kill, the final act of conquest, held no allure for you. It was the chase, the slow, agonising descent into obsession, that fueled your twisted fire. The kill, the moment of surrender, felt like the closing of a chapter, the end of the game. And you, the puppeteer, craved the endless, exhilarating performance, not the curtain call. Slowing it down, yes, that held promise. Dragging out the game, relishing each twisted step, each mark of her devotion, each whisper of her descent. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill that was both exhilarating and unsettling.

But there was a risk, a precipice you teetered on. Minji, this new Minji, was a firestorm, a force you'd unleashed and could no longer fully control. Slowing it down meant playing with fire, dancing on the edge of a volcano, and the flames, you knew, could easily consume you both.

The night stretched before you, a canvas painted in shades of crimson and gold. You held Minji close, her cold fire branding your skin, a constant reminder of the power you wielded, the chaos you'd unleashed. This wasn't the ending you'd envisioned, not the final act of your twisted play. This was a new chapter, a thrilling, terrifying improvisation, and the symphony, you knew, would be sung in blood and obsession, a symphony conducted by your own twisted desires. You would slow it down, yes, but not out of fear. You would enjoy the hunt, the exquisite dance of control, and watch, with a predator's glee, as Minji, your creation, your queen, became your most devoted follower.

The silver moon, a tarnished cymbal kissed by rust, clanged discordantly against the silence of the night. Minji, a watercolour portrait smudged by storm clouds, lay beside you, her gaze a piercing brushstroke dissecting the secrets you pretended to conceal. Sleep, a lullaby lost on deaf ears, would not grace her tonight, her heart a frantic drum solo fueled by the cacophony of lies you'd orchestrated. And thus, you played your part. A sigh, a melancholic cello serenade, escaped your lips, laced with the practised vibrato of feigned anguish. "Haewon, no", You whispered, your voice a mournful bassoon lamenting a love you never felt. "Don't take her again."

Each word, a barbed arrow stab in the canvas of Minji’s insecurities, sank deep into her heart, cultivating poisonous vines of doubt. You watched, through narrowed eyes, as the melody of suspicion rose in her, crescendoing into a possessive symphony that almost drowned out the echo of your fabricated despair. It fucking work, Minji was a whirlwind of abstract expressionism, her emotions shifting between obsessive brushstrokes and jealous splatters. Haewon, the spectre you'd conjured in your sleep, became her thematic nemesis, a distorted oil painting dripping with paranoia and misplaced passion. She dissected your every phrase, your every touch, searching for the phantom brushstrokes of this imaginary rival. When she found nothing, the relief in her eyes was a fleeting sunbeam on a rain-slicked canvas, swallowed by the ominous charcoal clouds of disdain that pulsed beneath.

Her charcoal sketches morphed into a nightmarish collage. Haewon, inside Minji's mind, became a grotesque cubist portrait, her features fractured and reassembled into a discordant jumble of envy and rage. You watched, a silent maestro conducting the chaotic orchestra of her descent, as Minji poured her insecurities, her growing madness, onto the canvas, each stroke a dissonant testament to your manipulation. This isn't just control anymore; this is a twisted opera for a broken soul, a crescendo of obsession where Minji, blind to your cruel scherzo, worshipped your fabricated villain. You revelled in the spectacle, the way she clung to your lies, turning Haewon into a monster so she could feel safer, more secure in your fabricated devotion.

Midnight, a velvet curtain, draped the room in hushed expectation. Minji, a tigress coiled and simmering, lay beside you. Her breathing, a low growl, vibrated against your arm, a promise of the storm brewing within. You felt her gaze, a laser beam drilling through the veil of your feigned slumber. She let out a vow to your ‘sleeping’ body a thunderous oath echoing in the darkness, "No one will bother you again," she'd hissed, her devotion, a tangible entity coiled around you. A perverse smile played on your lips, hidden in the shadows. You craved the storm, the tempest of her jealousy fueled devotion. And so, you played your part. A sigh, a whispered secret meant for no ears but hers, drifted from your lips. "Only you, Minji," you murmured, your voice a silken snare laced with feigned passion. "Forever."

The words, a barbed arrow dipped in the twisted concoctions of love, struck their mark. Her breathing hitched, the tigress recoiling in surprise, then settling with a low purr that reverberated through your bones. You felt the anger drain from her, replaced by a fiery possessiveness that licked at your soul. She shifted closer, her body a furnace branding yours. Her touch, once delicate, was now an insistent claim, a possessive map drawn on your skin. You revelled in it, the power she unwittingly surrendered feeding your twisted amusement.

In the ensuing silence, you spun another lie, a cruel melody whispered into the night. "Haewon… no….. more”,you breathed, your voice a mournful cello lamenting a fabricated sorrow. "Only you…… Babe”, The lie, a venomous kiss, landed on the raw wound of her insecurity. You saw the flicker of doubt, the spark of jealousy reignited in her eyes. But this time, it was different. The doubt was a flickering torch, drawing her closer to your darkness, not away. Minji, your tigress, rose from the bed, a predator prowling the room. Her movements were predatory, fueled by the twisted cocktail of love. Her limbs coiled around you, trapping you inside her embrace. “I love you oppa”, The final movement has been averted, replaced by an interlude.

Sunlight crept through the curtains, chasing away the shadows of the night. “Morning oppa”, Minji hasn't slept for a moment, yet her body feels rejuvenated. “Morning babe”, Your hand caressed her back making her purr. “I love you”, Under her bubbly and innocent smile, you can hear her demand for your answer. “I love you too babe, let's get ready for the day”, The answer is correct. Minji, a butterfly reborn, fluttered around the room, her laughter like wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. The storm of the night seemed a distant memory, replaced by a sunny facade that clung to her like a second skin. But you saw it, the glint of the monster you'd sculpted, lurking beneath the bubbly surface. A flicker of a possessive glint in her eyes when she caught you glancing at the phone, a subtle tightening of her grip when you spoke about another woman. The tigress slept, but it dreamt of fire, its claws honed and waiting.

The day stretched before you, a journey marked by boxes and goodbyes. Your parents, a melancholic cello duet, stood in the doorway, their faces etched with bittersweet smiles. “Take care of each other now”, your mother whispered, her voice filled with joy and excitement with her successful plan. You watched Minji's hand steal into yours, a vine coiling around your fingers. A smile, practised and perfect, bloomed on her face. "Don't worry, mom", she chirped, her voice a bright soprano masking the darkness beneath. "Oppa and I will be just fine", Of course, it was also an ultimatum for you, she won't let you mess anything up from now on. "Of course, we will be just fine”, Well, fine is a pretty wide term, but in some way and form, the two of you will be fine. “Don't get pregnant while-”, You dragged Minji out before your dad could finish his sentence. “Oppa, I want to get pregnant”, Minji whispered in your ears, a clear test for your own devotion for her. “I'll get you pregnant, after we got married”, The little monster consumed her eyes, emitting ecstasy and anticipations, “We'll get married soon right?” Her voice was laced with poison. “Soon enough”, And so does yours it seems.

The drive to your new home was a silent opera. Minji, a capricious soprano, chirped about decorating and future plans, her voice a sugary veneer over the churning turmoil within. You watched the scenery blur past, a discordant landscape mirroring the dissonance in your heart. The house, when you finally arrived, stood cold and empty. A blank canvas waiting for the splatters of your twisted masterpiece. Minji, with a childish glee you knew was feigned, skipped through the rooms, claiming them as her own.

“This bed is kinda big oppa, there's plenty of space for us”, Minji really wants to take the main bedroom for the two of you. “Listen, I'm not fucking you on my dad's bed okay?” Just, no, you hate the possibility of imagining your dad while you're rawdogging your girlfriend. “Come on, pleaseeeeee?” However Minji really wants to claim it as a way to show this house belongs to the two of you. “No, I'll ask for a new bed soon, come on let's move to my bedroom”, For now she'll be content with filling your bedroom with new memories of her.

The moment she got to your bedroom she dived into your bed. Smelling to find any scent of a bitch on it. “Oppa….” She does not like what she finds, “Yeah, I haven't changed my sheet in a while”, You did two-time Haewon and Minji for a week or two after you took Minji's virginity. “You've been sleeping here? With that whore’s cheap perfume staining this place?” You shrugged, letting her let out her anger. “I hate this place”, The walls, the bed, the floor, the sheets, it's all tainted by the touch of a whore. “Ssshhhhh, we can drown out her smell, just you and me. Wouldn't that be fine babe? Erasing her trace with your own?” It is so easy to poke at her weak spot.

“Fine, come here oppa”, Slowly you take off your clothes, making sure to let her suffer through the wait. Minji has already turned fully naked when you only opened your top, which frustrated her. “Oppa, come on, stop teasing me. Don't you want to fill me up again?” She spread her legs as her fingers started playing around with her pussy. The desperate looks she gave you push you to move faster. You get on your knees, enjoying the food that has been presented for you. “You, are so fucking perverted babe”, You kissed her inner thighs making her body shivers, “Oppa, I need you, please”, She let out a desperate plea. “Well, thank you for the food”, Your tongue slowly rubbed her pussy, giving her some surge of arousal.

“Yeah oppa, just like that, do that again”, Minji has slowly become more and more vocal with her moans ever since you told her how much you like hearing her scream. Of course you can't really hear much since your hearing is being hindered by the thighs ear muff wrapping your head. “Fuck oppa, you're gonna make me cum”, Her body jolt out, raising her waist while her leg is cutting the blood circulation to your ear. Grabbing her waist you keep her in place before your tongue starts going ham inside her pussy. “Fuck oppa, that's not fair”, She moans as her hand grabbed your hair. “Fuck, oppa, I'm cumming”, It was a split second after that did you feel the sudden sprays of her juice on your face.

Your head is being squeezed by her thighs, your hair is being torn off by her hand, your face being soaked by her juice. What more could a man ask for? “Oppa, that was incredible”, Finally she let you go, you just let out a sigh before taking her t-shirt and wiped your face with it. “I'm not eating you out ever again”, It's okay, she'll find a way to talk you into it. Oh my, she is growing, into something as scummy as you are.

“Well come on, fuck me oppa”, Despite the state she's in, Minji still fingers herself to prepare her hole for you. “So fucking eager aren't you?” She nodded before turning her back to you, without hesitation you plunged into her making her let out a scream. “So fucking tight too”, Your hand moves by itself and slaps her ass, “Ahhhhhh, oppa”, Her cries of pains made you feel even hornier. “Shut up you”, You slaps her again making her shriek, “You like this don't you slut?” Another slap, this time you felt her walls tightening around you. “No”, Yet the moan doesn't lie to you, “Liar, tell me how much you like it”, Minji is loving it, but she doesn't want to show it to you.

“I'm not a slut”, You spank her again, “Lies, tell me how much you like this babe”, You leaned down and kissed her back making the playing field less even for her. “No, I hate it”, She moans again, completely failing in convincing you. “Babyyyy”, Your hand reached to her neck, gently wrapping around it. “I don't like liars”, With one rough pull you dragged her up. Now she's standing alongside you, although her leg doesn't really reach the ground. “I'm not lying”, Being grabbed like a useless doll makes Minji feel so aroused. “Is that so?” You bite her ears, you use one hand to hold her by the waist, you open your legs wider so that she can stand on her own two feets.

“I know you're lying, sluts”, You tightened your hand on her neck as you pound her harder. “Aggg, not… lying…” The ecstasy, the feelings of being absolutely used as nothing but a tool for your pleasure, it overwhelmed her. “Say it slut”, Your hand slapped her tits this time making her let out a choked cry. “I’m cumming”, She managed to let out a squeal as her body started to spasm out of control. Yet you didn't stop, you continued strangling her while your waist continued pounding her. The absolute thrill of being degraded like this makes Minji's orgasm last a long time. Long enough by the time she finishes you actually feels yours getting closer.

“Fucking slut”, You throw her to the bed letting her fall limply to it as you grabbed her waist and fuck her harder. “I'm cumming bitch”, Minji was out of it, the oxygen deprivation had sent her mind wandering off somewhere. Of course, the moment your hot load fills her up she immediately gets another orgasm.

Did I pass out? Have oppa been fucking my unconscious body this whole time? That's so hot.

Yeah she's definitely broken, you did this by the way. Soon she will be nothing but a sentient sexbot who only has one variable in her mind, you. “Fuck, Minji are you okay?” Your hand reached out to grab her head, “Hold me oppa”, She whimpered. You jumped on the bed and cuddled her closer to you, “I'm sorry babe”, You laughed as she started crying on your shoulder. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you” that's all you hear from her for an hour or so.

As the time passes, you get bored, thinking about what's the next plan, how do you slowly turn Minji into much, well, degenerate. “Oppa, let's go again”, Minji already starts stroking your cock, “Do you want to have a house tour with sex baby?” Why bother asking, just go and spread your mark all over the place.

"Promise me you'll be back by ten”, she rasped, her voice strained with a tremor that tugged at your heartstrings. "Ten, oppa. No later”, You stare at her through the reflection of the mirror as you put on your tie, “Ten? Baby the shows end by 11, and as the leader I need to stay around for some after-party for the band chemistry”, The last month of living together has calm her down a lot, no longer is she a dragon anxious for her treasure trove being stolen, you are the treasure by the way, now more like a needy cat that doesn't want its owner to leave for work.

The knot in her chest tightened. Minji's pleading eyes, reflected in the mirror like twin pools of worry, chipped away at the carefully constructed nonchalance you wore like a shield. "But it's just a formality, baby” You soothed, forcing a smile to calm her down. "A quick toast, maybe some pictures, and then I'm out of there. Back before you can finish that book you've been reading", The book is about a guide on how to navigate through marriage for a newly wed wife. Your words seemed to hang in the air, caught in the web of her suspicion. Haewon, the phantom you'd conjured, loomed large in the unspoken spaces between you.

Minji hovered by the window, sunlight glinting off the nervous tears clinging to her eyelashes. You finished tying your boots, the leather laces a stark contrast to the fragile tendrils of doubt she was weaving around you.

"Haewon won't be there", You assured her, your voice firm yet it has no effect on her. "I told you, it's just the band and those basketball kids. Trust me, my spotlight tonight only shines on you”, But her smile, usually as bright as a sunflower, remained wan, painted with the worry of shadows not yet cast. "You promise?" she whispered, her voice a trembling melody in the morning air.

You crossed your heart, the gesture feeling almost sacrilegious in the face of your web of lies. "Promise," you lied, the taste of ash settling on your tongue. "No Haewon, just me and the boys”, Of course Haewon will be there, it will be fun. Unfortunately for you Minji starts to notice the signs of your lies, which means she's still hesitant about your departure. A playful sigh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of deceptions. "Look," you pleaded, turning towards her, "how about a compromise? I'll sneak out as soon as the formalities are done, okay? I'll text you the second I'm in the car, even give you live updates through if you want."

Her expression wavered, a fragile pendulum swinging between doubt and reluctant trust. You knew the fear still lurked beneath the surface, a predator coiled and ready to pounce at the slightest hint of your betrayal. But amidst the tension, you saw a glimmer of the Minji you'd grown to cherish, the girl who believed in your promises, the girl who craved your return, not your confinement. "Fine," she whispered, the word falling from her lips like a reluctant concession. "But no later than half-past eleven. And text me every step of the way, even if it's just a boring picture of your shoes under the table."

A wave of relief washed over you, warm and cleansing. You pulled her into a tight embrace, inhaling the scent of her lavender perfume, letting her imprint her scent on you. "Deal," you murmured, your lips brushing against her temple. "I'll be back soon babe”, You won't.

The ride was quiet for you, yet your phone is bombarded with Minji's text, since she knows the address to the venue you decided to answer her just in case she would come and wreak havoc. “Baby I'm driving right now”, A glint of worry attacked her, “Why did you call me then?” Minji hurriedly closes the call and sends a long text telling you why texting while driving is dangerous and other stuff. You only read her text once you arrived at the venue, “Why does her book have a chapter about drunk driving?” The book was supposed to be for a newlywed wife right?

“Well, well, well, look who decides to show up”, Bae said, drilling her gaze into your eyes, “Bae”, Haewon grabbed her hand trying to calm her down. “Evening Bae, as pleasant as always”, You ignored the two of them and went to find Jin. “You can't just keep running to me to escape Haewon”, You can and you will continue doing this, “I'm running for her own sake”, How noble of you. “Yeah whatever, what's up?” You look around to see that everyone is fully ready for the performance, “Is there any plans for after the performance?” It would be nice if there is, after all things has been going too well for you and Minji. “Drinks? Karaoke? Dinner? Whatever you want dude”, Come on now you're the shot caller for your band of misfits. “Karaoke fuck it?” Doing karaoke after a straining performance will be very tiring even for you, of course it was the best option to wreck Minji's heart.

“You're the boss”, It's nice that Jin reminds you of that from time to time, or was it a complaint for your lack of responsibility? “Alright boys, gather up, briefing time”, Ah, you get his hint. A quick briefing for the performance, rundown on the songs you've prepared and of course a little soundcheck. Throughout all this you managed to sent some text to Minji just to update her. These text is the only thing that's keeping her sane throughout the hours. She can't even focus on anything else but your text, trying to analyse every pixel for any detail you might try to hide.

Who is that girl oppa?

You?

What? The girl in the room with you. That's a girl's leg on the top left corner.

That's Bae, one of the boy's girlfriends. You want to meet her?

Why is she there?

To meet her boyfriend?

Stop answering with questions. You said there will only be your ‘boys’, or is she on of the ‘boys’ as well?

It's 2023 babe, we need to be inclusive, boys, bros, it's all universal term.

Your text certainly doesn't help, Minji's hand was gripping the phone so hard it could've broken. “Who is that bitch”, A low whisper more akin to a growl came out of her.

STOP EVADING THE QUESTIONS

Yeah okay, there's a few girls here, they're my boys’ girlfriends.

YOU SAID THERE WILL ONLY BE THE BOYS

IT'S ZE BOYS, but yeah they are bringing their girlfriend. It's okay babe, they won't even bat an eye on me.

If you come back.

With their scent on you.

I won't let you leave the house again.

Okay, I need to do some soundcheck, I'll text you before the performance.

Minji gnawed on her thumbnail, the bitter taste of nail polish mingling with the sour cocktail of worry churning in her stomach. Your band's music pulsed through the apartment walls, a distant but tantalising echo of the world you were currently inhabiting. She tried to focus on the self-help book titled "Newlywed Wife's Guide for Marriage," the words blurring before her eyes. Each sentence about "trusting your spouse" and "maintaining healthy communication" felt like a hollow balm on her burning anxieties.

The image, the one you'd sent from the venue, had burrowed into her mind like a malevolent worm. It wasn't even the girl's face, just a glimpse of legs beneath a short skirt, a flash of tanned skin that, to Minji's twisted perspective, screamed calculated seduction. While you basked in the spotlight, she wrestled with the phantom threat of another woman stealing your gaze, your touch, your entire universe.

The book, supposed armour against these insecurities, offered nothing but platitudes. "Accept your husband will be flirted with," it droned, "but trust his commitment." Trust? How could she, when every laugh shared on stage, every casual brush with a friend, felt like a tiny betrayal chipping away at their fledgling relationship? Frustration, acrid and bitter, welled up inside her. She slammed the book shut, its pronouncements useless in the face of her torment. Outside, city lights winked like mocking eyes, each twinkle a stark reminder of the gulf between her and you.

The stage pulsed with energy, sweat and amplified riffs painting a portrait of your adrenaline-fueled world. Your voice soared, carrying the melody of the band's hard work for the last few months. Amidst the cheers and ambiance lights, a phantom audience of one haunted your every note. Minji. Back in your apartment, she continues biting on her nails, a habit she has developed from dealing with you. Each text message, a bland chronicle of "soundcheck done”, "opening act killed it”, felt like a brushstroke obscuring a hidden canvas. No mention of the ‘girlfriend’ , no picture of the whore’s leg. The silence, louder than any roar, amplified her anxieties.

You'd promised the picture wouldn't come, and yet, the absence felt like a deliberate omission, a carefully crafted lie. The silence between your texts, once filled with the comforting buzz of the concert, became an abyss of doubt. Minji slammed the phone on the bed, the screen's blue light leaving ghostly afterimages on her tear-filled eyes.

She tried to focus on the book, the "Newlywed Wife's Guide," but its platitudes about communication and trust felt like hollow echoes in the face of her mounting suspicions. You, her rockstar, her sunshine, were now a phantom figure dancing in the shadows, your every move shrouded in a veil of deceit. The book is mocking her with its empty promises of trust and communication. Trust? How could she, when every update felt sanitised, every emoji a carefully chosen mask? Finally, unable to bear the torment any longer, she typed out a message, her fingers trembling making her have to retype the whole message a couple of time. "When are you coming home?" the words screamed, a desperate plea for a shred of truth in the labyrinth of your lies.

I'm chilling until the closing for now.

The response was read almost immediately.

Karaoke????

You said it will be dinner

It came back, the question mark a venomous punctuation mark. You smiled, picturing her curled up on the couch, the book abandoned on the floor, her mind spinning with suspicion. You knew the image too well, the monster you'd created reflected in her haunted eyes.

There was a change of plans

I'll just drink a little and sing a song or two and I'll be right with you.

She read it, but she didn't respond at all. This radio silence caused some uneasy feeling inside you, so you left the bathroom and called her up. The call was answered instantly.

“Hey babe”

“Why are you going to a karaoke oppa? Please just come back home”

She's crying.

“Baby don't cry, it's just an hour at most”

“Oppa, please, I need you”

She's crying, hysterically.

“Baby, I promise, after this I won't leave your side for a week”

“You're not leaving my side for a week regardless”

Good point, how do you counter this.

“A month, I'll take you out to my internship”

“Baby, please, just come home. I miss you already”

Her heart wrenching wails can be heard echoing around your bedroom.

“Baby, why are you like this? Please it's just a karaoke, nothing is gonna happen”

“Babe, I miss you”

The pain whimpering she let out made you realise, if you push it harder she will do something stupid.

“Okay, I'll see what I can do okay?”

Have you gone too soft?

“Hey, are you still busy with your ‘internship’?” Haewon’s voice can be heard followed by the knocking on the door. “Who's that?” Minji roared, “I'll be back soon, and stop following me weirdo”, Right, let's feed Minji's insecurities of finding you getting flirted on. “I can't believe I dated you”, This time Haewon's voice is lower and you're not really sure that it can be heard through the phone. “Oppa, please, come home now”, Minji pleaded, it's all just too much for her. “Baby, once the performance end I'll come home okay? There's only half an hour left”, That's like 30 minutes too long for Minji. “Oppa, please, come home”, She sounds so pathetic already, “I'll be back soon babe, I love you”, She didn't answer with words as the only thing you can hear is her sobbing. You stay in line for a minute or so, then you hang up, making her cries even harder.

As you get out of the bedroom you find Haewon just standing there in the hallway. “Evening, Hae, anything I can help you with?” Her eyes narrowed, then she strides over to you and grabs your collar before pulling you down. “I know that internship is just a fucking lie”, Well, it seems things are getting annoying now. You frown and tilted your head as if you're not getting what she means by that. Haewon's eyes, once smouldering embers of adoration, now crackled with the fierce heat of suspicion. Her accusation hung in the air, a tangible thing you could almost hear "Don't play dumb with me, Oppa", coming out of her mouth. Yet her lips stay still, she knows that you're getting her message.

The urge to scoff, to dismiss her claims with a smirk and a well-placed lie, warred with a prickling sensation at the back of your neck. Her sudden awareness, like a rogue vine twisting towards your carefully cultivated garden of deception, was starting to annoy you more than frighten you. "Hae," you began, playing the clueless card like a well-worn suit, "you're scaring me. Really. What on earth are you talking about?" Your voice, a touch too high, a shade too rehearsed, was met with a sardonic smile that sliced through your feigned innocence. "Oh, spare me the ignorant act”, she spat, her voice laced with the bitterness of betrayal. "The internship, the space – everyone knows it's a charade. And I know more than just that."

Her words, each one a subtle jab, prodded at the carefully constructed walls you'd erected around your secret life. Haewon, once a pliable puppet in your game, was now a tigress clawing her way out of the cage. Your puppets, it seemed, were becoming a touch too sentient for your liking. "Hae, come on," you sighed, spreading your hands in a gesture of mock bewilderment. "Fantasies? Look, if you think there's someone else… well, that's your prerogative. But don't drag me into your suspicions."

Haewon's eyes narrowed, scepticism dancing in their depths. Her hand reached behind your head and pulled it into her neck, you can feel her breath tickling your ears, just like old times. "Fantasies, you say? I know your secrets better than you think, Oppa. And let me tell you, I'm not going down like this. Whoever that bitch is, I'll find her. Also, you might be a father soon, so don't run too far, daddy~”, Then she let go, and before you can get a glimpse of her face she already turned around.

Haewon's footsteps, once sharp staccato, faded into the distant hum of the city like a final, angry cymbal crash. You didn't chase her, nor did fear twist your gut. This, you realized with a chilling thrill, was the finale, the crescendo of your intricately orchestrated chaos. Silence, filled with anticipation, settled on the stage. The piano, normally your bandmate's playful confidante, now hummed a melancholic blues, each note heavy with the weight of revelation. The drums, a once-joyful pulse, echoed like distant thunder, a rumbling premonition of the storm you'd unleashed.

And then, Minji's imagined cries, not screams of accusation, but soft, wounded whimpers, joined the symphony. They twined around the piano's melody, a mournful oboe solo weaving through the discordant tapestry of your unraveling masterpiece. This wasn't fear, this morbidly exhilarating waltz of consequences. No, this was the conductor relishing the final flourish, the maestro gazing upon the wreckage of his deliberate chaos with a cold, artistic detachment. Haewon, the scorned tigress, had merely been the catalyst, the final push needed to send your marionette strings flying, the puppets tumbling into their inevitable fall. Her sudden sentience and defiant is only a step back to your plans for Minji's transformation.

You pictured Minji, eyes red-rimmed, tears tracing silent melodies down her cheeks. The sight, far from being a gut punch, fueled the perverse fire within you. Her pain, you imagined, was another instrument in your twisted orchestra, a mournful cello adding depth and despair to the symphony of your destruction. The crowd, their chatter a distant, muffled chorus, became the audience to your private tragedy. Their oblivious enjoyment of the band's now-sombre performance merely emphasized the irony, the cruel disconnect between the staged entertainment and the real-life drama unfolding in the wings.

You closed your eyes, the music swirling within you, a dark, intoxicating vortex. And in that swirling chaos, you saw not the wreckage, but the possibilities. This wasn't a failed performance, it was a liberation, a shedding of the puppeteer's mask, a descent into the raw, unchained melody of your true self. A sick and twisted smile starts to form on your face, filled with anticipation, ecstasy and most importantly, sadistic perversion.

No longer would you play by society's rules, dance to the rhythms of expected outcomes. This was your symphony, discordant and raw, yours to conduct until the final note, the bitter aftertaste of chaos clinging to your lips like a final, triumphant encore. As the jazz band, oblivious to the storm they'd unwittingly orchestrated, ended their set with a soft, resigned coda, you stepped back into the shadows. The curtain hadn't fallen, not yet. This was merely the intermission, the pause before the final movement of the song, the grand finale where the puppeteer became the protagonist, the villain, the tragic hero of his own twisted, beautiful symphony.

AN: I really wanted to wrap things out in this chapter but my hand just start writing and I lost control. Anyway, second chapter out of three, the third one might take a while since i have some plans for new years. Till then, cheers

#kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop smut #newjeans minji #kim minji #minji smut #male reader

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throneofsmut · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day Eighteen: Squirting Ruhn Danaan x Female Reader

You entered Bryce’s apartment not noticing who all was there and plopped down on her couch. Head resting on the back of the couch with your eyes closed, “I hate men.” You muttered, to which she laughed.

Eyes still closed, “Bryce, I hate all men. Males too, because they talk all this shit and then just… nothing.”

You take a deep breath before letting out a sigh, “They talk all this shit.“ You begin to mock in a deep voice.“Oh, baby, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you… When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk for a week. I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you squirt.”

“Y/n.” Bryce called trying to get your attention but you kept going.

“Like seriously how fucking hard is it for them to even find a fucking clit, it’s right there but no they want to rub my fucking thigh. And then be all up in my ear “you like that baby ?” No I don’t.”

“Y/n.” Bryce tried again a little louder.

But you weren’t finished. “They swear they can make you cum, that they’ll make you squirt as if they’re some sex god. But not one guy has ever made me cum let alone squirt. Fucking useless pieces-“

“Y/N !” Bryce screamed, finally getting you to look at her.

“What ?” You looked at her confused and then she bursted out laughing. You finally noticed that Hunt, Ithan, Tharion, Declan, Tristan and Ruhn had all heard your rant.

They all stared at you wide eyed and mouths agape, except Ruhn. Ruhn was looking at you with furrowed brows and his bottom lip between his teeth.

You shrugged, “I said what I said.” None of them argued with you and Bryce was now wheezing.

Ruhn cleared his throat before asking “So you’ve never-“

Looking him dead in his eyes, “Did I stutter ?”

“No.”

You were about to tell Bryce that it wasn’t that funny when you got a text from a shifter you met at the White Raven the other night, saying they would meet you there in 15 minutes. That was all it took for you to hug Bruce goodbye and glare at the males as you walked out.

You heard her apartment door open and then close while walking into the elevator, you already knew who it was. “What, Ruhn ?”

“Where are you going ?”

Sighing, you responded, “Home.” He leaned back against the elevator, standing next to you, “I’ll walk you.” You turned to him, panicked, not wanting him to know you were gonna hook up with someone. “No it’s okay, I’ll be fine. Thanks though.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on my way home.” Fuck, you two did live near each other and the White Raven was in the opposite direction. “I’m gonna go home… just not right now.”

“Where are you going ?”

You turned to look at him and he met your gaze, then he looked down at your lips before meeting your eyes again. “The White Raven.” You looked away and didn’t say anything else as you walked out of the elevator and out of the complex heading towards the night club.

Then you felt him grip your arm, spinning around so you were face to face, a hair's breadth away. “Don’t go with him, I could do all the shit that he never could.” You searched his eyes, trying to find a lie or a hint of it but found none. “Please.”

You simply nodded your head and followed him back to his house, the both of you were silent the entire way.

As soon as you walked through the door his lips were on yours. It was all teeth and tongue, the whole way up to his bedroom. You both pulled back to take off your clothes and then as soon as both of you were bare your lips were on each other again.

He walked you backwards till the back of your knees hit his bed and then he laid you down and kissed from your lips to your jaw. Down your neck, chest, and tummy before teasingly nipping at your inner thighs.

“Ruhn.” His name was a breathy moan as you tried moving to get his mouth where you needed it. Thighs rubbing together for some friction.

Ruhn, tsked at you, then used his shadows to restrain you and keep your legs spread for him. He ran a single finger through your wet folds, “Ruhn please.”

You were about to start begging when he licked a stripe up your soaked cunt, moaning onto you at the taste of you on his tongue.

Crying out as he flicked his tongue with precision against your swollen clit. “Oh fuck.” you whimpered, hips bucking against his shadows. “Fuck, Ruhn.”

Then he started sucking on your clit and your legs started shaking. “Don’t stop, Please, don’t stop.” You cried out. “I’m just getting started, Sweetheart.” He purred into your mind. Not even a minute later you reached your peak, not even noticing that you squirted on his face.

He sat back up with a feral grin on his face covered in your juices. Licking his lips, moving to pumping his length a couple times before lining it up with your entrance.

Still breathless as he slid into you and let you adjust to his size before snapping his hips against yours. Moving at an inhumanely pace as he fucked you like his life depended on it, fingers digging into your hips as he panted softly. “Fuck- I can feel you clenching my cock already. Gonna squirt for me again, sweet girl ?”

You choked out a sob as he moved one of his hands from your hips to your clit, rubbing tight circles. “Let go. I can fuck- I can feel you squeezing me.” He growled.

Screaming out his name as you squirted on him for the second time within 10 minutes. You were panting when he captured your lips in a hungry kiss and murmured against them, “Give me more.”

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

#crescent city #crescent city fanfic #crescent city smut #ruhn danaan #ruhn x reader #prince ruhn #ruhn danaan smut #ruhn danaan x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass smut #acotar

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slytherizz · 9 months ago

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Playing God - Auror!Sebastian x Dark!MC

Tags/Warnings: 18+ | Non-Con | explicit sexual content | Dark!MC | Polyjuice Sex

All tags can be found on Ao3

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Decorated Auror, Sebastian Sallow had not anticipated how his life would diverge so sharply from the woman he once loved, the most wanted and notorious witch in Britain. Or how their paths would continue to cross - their fates still bound together.

A/N This fic has been living in my WIPs for about 6 months...I wanted to reverse the dynamic of my longer fic with Sebastian being the Auror this time and in doing such explore some darker themes. Short multi-chapter that will probably end up being three chapters at most.

She was pretty enough he supposed in a homely sort of way.

Petite, with neat shoulder-length hair that brushed against narrow shoulders and, a soft bow to her overly thin top lip. But her dress was old-fashioned, a severe high-neck buttoned almost to her chin, ruffled layers of her underskirts impractical and lumpy. Layers upon layers, of an unflattering shade of yellow washed out her otherwise pleasant features.

Compared to the other witches that would frequent such a seedy establishment with their low necklines and light skirts, she would be considered dowdy.

If it wasn't for her eyes. Keen and alert as if beneath the sheep-like exterior lurked something dangerous. He most likely would have overlooked her too.

To even the keenest observer it wouldn't look like Sebastian had any particular tastes when it came to women or men. Much to his displeasure, the qualities that drew him in were rarely mere aesthetic.

Barked laughter like an ill-tempered hound. The smell of mallowsweet. Aromatic and earthy. Teeth pressed lightly into a bottom lip like they held all the cards in a game no one else knew they were playing. Until they spread the winning hand. Smile so wide it unnerved, bore too many teeth.

Tonight, it was keen and dangerous eyes that reminded him of her.

They shared no other similarities and from what Sebastian could discern from her well-manicured nails, and unblemished skin, bar a pale line around her finger where he supposed an engagement ring would usually sit - this was no fighter.

This was a proper young lady - who had wandered onto the wrong side of town looking for a sensible amount of trouble as her wedding day, most likely to some equally wellbred suitor, loomed over her like a dark cloud.

As if Sebastian were screaming his thoughts at her across the crowded tavern, those sharp eyes flicked their attention to him. Raked over the thinning patches of his civilian cloak, the shadow across his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes he'd given up glamouring. After years they were as much a staple of his face as the freckles on his nose.

The marks of a man who hadn't enough time to shave let alone visit a tailor, a man who would scarcely have enough time to ask her too many intrusive questions.

She smiled. Jarring was the only way Sebastian could describe how her face seemed to split horizontally across its centre. Neither half quite belonged to the other. The demure and polite curl of her lips was offset by the razor-edged scrutiny of her darkened gaze. Predatory. Hungry. In a way that made his mouth go dry and cool sweat beads on the back of his neck.

Ice clinked against the side of his glass as Sebastian knocked back the remaining dregs of whiskey. Disguising the way his lip twitched at the corners under the weight of her eyes. Amber liquid burned his throat was nothing compared to the heat prickling across his skin.

Sebastian held up two fingers to indicate to the Barmaid over the raucous patrons of the pub. She placed a second glass on the bar filling them both with a more than generous pour.

"Cheers," Sebastian said, placing the coins into her hand, a little extra for her trouble as he always did. The barmaid smiled brightly, flushed and preening, over a few extra sickles as if he'd declared some great love for her. Though he supposed generosity was not a trait of many that frequented the Ogre's Arms. She leaned a little further over the bar than was strictly necessary, her fingers linger too long against his palm as he hands over his sickles.

Sebastian did not miss the way that the strangers' eyes tracked the interaction. As swift and deliberately as he had been trained to be with every motion, he slipped his hand from the barmaid's grasp deftly hooking his fingers into the rim of the grotesquely full tumblers as he spun on his heels.

Whatever the poor girl had been about to say faltered in her throat. Crackling out of life like a dying gramophone. He really should have felt some sympathy for the poor girl.

She'd made her fondness for him quite obvious over the years. Despite how Sebastian would sidle out the door with what must seem like any witch but her. Too worried about any kind of arrangement that would ask for more than he was willing, or able, to give. Nor did he wish to find a new hole to drown himself in.

And regretfully - her gentle honeyed voice and hopeful doe eyes that delivered longing glances had never stirred anything inside of Sebastian. As much as on some nights he wished they would.

Sebastian weaved through the sparse gathering around the bar of the more rambunctious patrons. Turning a blind eye, to the corner booth and the two witches poorly disguising their face under their dramatic hoods, exchanging money, a rather suspicious-looking sack at their feet which gave a periodic shudder and what looked like spines protruding from the burlap. It may be his job to investigate suspicious behaviour such as this but- he'd rather not have to explain to his sergeant exactly what he was doing in this pub in the first place.

Approaching her solitary table nestled in the corner, she inclined her chin up towards him. Smug. Sloped oak beams cast a thick shadow, and candlelight flickering against her cheekbones made her features waxy like an oil painting against a grimy canvas.

"May I?"

She tilted her head, as though she expected nothing else but was amused by his gesture nonetheless."Only because you brought a bribe."

Sebastian hooked the heel of his boot around the chair leg pulling out further. Placed the two glasses on the table as he sat, careful not to spill any against the oak surface. Not that it would be such a shame if it did. Cheap whiskey from a smudged glass was hardly a waste.

Sebastian tipped his glass to her in toast, she did not feign even the slightest interest in her glass or his hollow act of chivalry.

"I haven't seen you here before," Sebastian said.

Flexing her fingers, she admired those well-polished nails. "No. I don't suppose you would have."

West Country. Quaint. As out of place amongst the sea of London accents as her dress was from this decade. Confirming a very important fact for Sebastian she was certainly not from around here. For the best.

"This doesn't seem like the place for such a nice young lady such as yourself."

Chin resting on the back of her delicate hand. A feline grin spread across her face, as she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Nor the place for well respected Ministry men."

Tension seized Sebastian's shoulders. Unnerved by her perception, his eyes darted across the sea of faces. He'd left the scarlet cloak with the gold badge adorning his lapels in his flat long before he'd made apparated to the bottom of Knockturn Alley. Places like these didn't take too kindly to rozzers scrambling their clientele. Nor would he want it to become common knowledge at the Ministry that he frequented grimy drinking holes on his off hours. He was certain she'd been alone but that prickle of unease had his hand reaching towards his wand.

She caught his arm swiftly, delicate fingers folded up the cuff of his cloak. Ministry insignia branded into the tan leather strap that secured his wand to his forearm.

Chuckling breathily to himself, Sebastian felt the tension ebb as, just as swiftly, she turned down the sleeve. "Half the people here carry their wand tucked up their sleeve. You have a keen eye, to have spotted that mark from halfway across the room, lass. Do you make it a habit of checking if every man who approaches you is an Auror?"

Sharp eyes glinted with mischief. "Only the ones that interest me."

"Must be my lucky day." He leaned in closer, bitter whiskey breath disturbed a loose curl around her ear as he whispered. "Unless there's a reason you have to be on such high alert for authority I should know about?"

"Do I look like the kind of woman who would have much trouble with the law?"

He cast his eyes down, at her unblemished hands. Free of callouses and scar tissue, the tight restrictiveness of her bodice ill-suited for battle, her polite disarming smile - even those eyes, so reminiscent but not quite right. Despising the remorseful pang in his chest. Nothing like her.

"Well if that's the case this," he gestured around the damp crooked hole masquerading as a tavern. "Certainly isn't the place for you."

"Nor you. Unless the requirements for holding such an esteemed post has gone severely downhill and they let swindlers and murderers into their ranks." He almost winced at the sting of the insult she unwittingly delivered.

"Perhaps lurking around in dingey bars with terrible whiskey isn't suited to either of us. Perhaps, upstanding members of society that we are, should go somewhere we can feel more…relaxed."

"And where exactly is there such a place for me?" Most women would have covered that glaring tan line on her finger, under gloved hands or glamour, but she seemed to flaunt it as she ghosted it across his knuckles; an invitation.

Sebastian's grin widened. "I have a few ideas."

"I don't have much time. So you better make every minute count."

***

Sebastian unlocked his front door with a snap of his fingers. Gestured her inside, his hand pressed into the small of her back. She inclined her head towards him, a smirk playing on her lips at the hollow politeness of his gesture. Knowing full well his intention of inviting her back to his flat was far from gentlemanly.

Exaggerated skirts shifted as she stepped inside. Soft lamp lights scattered around his living room sparked to life in welcome illuminating the small living area. Her formal attire looked out of place; more suited for high tea than the sparsely filled space Sebastian inhabited.

Files strewn across the long velvet settee, scattered teacups and candles burned down to the wick littered every available surface. He knew the larder would be just as barren save for some tea bags and a half-empty bottle of gin the department had cobbled together to purchase for his promotion. He didn't even like gin. The presence of female company always seemed to highlight just how every inch of his flat screamed bachelor.

Sebastian shrugged off his cloak, hooking it on the back of the door. Never once taking his eyes off her. Odd little creature that she was. Against the faint moonlight that trickled in from the arched window on the far wall, her face cloaked in darkness, she cast a dramatic silhouette.

Not quite her. No. But her dress despite its bulk could not disguise the dip of her waist, an alluring swell to her chest. With her face masked from view, he felt his drink-fogged mind teeter dangerously on an edge he would not let it wander past.

She'd bent down, and pinched the corner of a piece of parchment he'd discarded the previous night between her thumb and forefinger. Sebastian slipped his wand from the holster. With a flick, the paper pried itself free to rejoin the rest which were shuffling themselves back into their file before shooting across the room into the waiting drawer of his bureau. The gold lock clicked shut, locking them securely away with an audible snap.

Her head whipped around, her chin jutted out in irritation, and her eyes narrowed slightly into a glare. Sebastian shrugged, as he unbuckled the holster on his arm, placing it on the narrow kitchen island. "Classified information. I'm sure you understand."

Sebastian couldn't have nosy witches trawling through his case files. He'd seen plenty of Aurors sacked for lesser sins. And reporters from the Prophet certainly weren't above seduction tactics to get their stories. That knowledge did nothing however to stop the tingle that spread down his spine that the defiant look in her eye ignited in him.

"I suppose." She shrugged, a forced display of indifference. Before proceeding to further inspect his residence. Striding about like she owned the place and Sebastian was merely some troublesome tenant.

The cramped flat he'd started renting in London straight out of Hogwarts could hardly be considered a home. Sebastian never planned to make it one. Or stay for as long as he did. Merely a stepping stone, at the start of his career. Close to the Ministry, so he could collapse after a long day.

Eat. Sleep. Breath. Work.

That desperate desire to prove himself more than what he'd been. Never satisfied with his lot in life. By the grace of Merlin, he'd been given a second chance to make himself a man - his parents, his sister, that he could be proud of.

He had planned to settle down eventually. Fix the decaying bones of his parents' old house on the hill with her by his side. Both were now a faded, hopeless dream. Sebastian's life had rarely gone to plan.

Tracing a finger across the well-worn spines on his overstuffed bookshelf she pondered each title with interest. "Quite the collection you have. Some rather questionable titles you have here for a man of your profession."

"Special Ministry approval. They're charmed to be bound to my place of residence - before you get any ideas. Can never be too prepared in my line of work. Knowledge of magic of a more…delicate nature can be the difference between life and death."

Strictly speaking, this was not a lie. Any Auror worth his salt would have at least half the books in Sebastian's collection on curse-breaking, dark magic and deadly creatures. Admittedly, his robust library wasn't necessary for his career nor was all of it purely academic interest.

Eyewitness accounts of skinwalkers he'd picked up on a short trip to America, liaising with the MACUSA on their rising troll problem. Journals, written in the maddening scrawl of a witch who'd fancied herself a revolutionary scholar. Wanted to test the corruption dark magic had on the soul. Daft bugger used herself to test her theories. Now all that was left of her was crammed into a bachelor's bookcase.

Smallest in number and size, a thin collection of children's stories and a letter correspondence from crackpot conspiracists. He'd been too late to salvage anything that remained of Miriam Fig's research and this pitiful array was all that he'd discovered over the years with any reference to Ancient Magic. A small house fire could destroy what Sebastian could only assume was the largest collated materials on the subject.

It had been foolish to try to love her, but perhaps more still to hunt the vengeful wraith.

"Well read. Good career. Seems you are a rather eligible bachelor-"

Sebastian smiled moving closer towards her. "I'm not bad to look at either."

"Despite your proclivity for skulking around dingey bars. It's unusual to find a man such as yourself…unattached."

"What can I say - I'm married to my work. Not much time for anything else; not many witches would put up with the lifestyle long-term. Never been interested in marriage."

Liar.

She looked up at him through dark lashes, from how those sharp eyes stripped him back until he was raw and exposed - she scented his dishonesty. "Sounds like a lonely life."

"Depends on who you ask."

Sebastian leaned heavily on the shelf above her head, elbow brushing against well-loved spines. His calloused palm slipped around her waist, running up her side. Felt the curved bones of her corset under his thumb. Leaning in closer still, enough that his breath disturbed the loose curls around her temples. Her lips parted, tongue dancing along her bottom lip as she tilted her chin up towards him like a cat basking in a warm breeze.

She didn't waiver. Not a single flicker of hesitation in those sharp, piercing eyes. For a moment, Sebastian pitied the man who intended to marry her. But not enough to stop him from capturing her lips.

Tasting the tang of cheap whiskey in their mingled breath. Not a slither of remorse as her delicate hands found the nape of Sebastian's neck. Used chestnut curls to pull him closer to kiss him more deeply. Their breath was little more than stolen gasps for air and an opportunity for her tongue to seize and slip past parted lips.

Sebastian crowded her further against the bookshelf. Held tighter to the bunched fabric of her skirts, hands fumbling desperately to feel the shape it disguised. Frustrated by the garment, his lips left her mouth. Travelled down to her jaw, her breathing hitched, head tipped back to thunk against the shelf as Sebastian nipped and sucked at the column of her throat. A little too sharply. But she only pressed into him further. Blood and bruises bloomed wild across her skin as his teeth grazed along her heightened pulse.

He knew what it was like to try to ensnare creatures such as this. How they bit when cornered. Fool that he was, he desired to tame them, change their nature; almost as much as he craved to be bitten.

Maybe that was why he held her so firmly in his grasp. Petticoats balled in his fists, as he pressed himself awkwardly against her. Her dainty form didn't quite fit the stocky mould of his own.

Not that anyone witch or woman had since.

Not that she seemed to care. She pulled Sebastian in like he alone was hers to drink from. Like he belonged to her and she would bend and break him to fit her. Some part of him prayed she succeeded. He'd snap every bone in his body, boil down his sinew in the hope that when at last he healed - he would fit another.

Sebastian pressed his mouth into the crook of her shoulder and burrowed his face, inhaling deeply, as he mouthed at her skin. Soft and supple as an over-ripe peach. Desperately, pathetically trying and failing to make himself fit. But the bridge of his nose bumped harshly against her clavicle and his back ached from stooping.

He'd never melted into anyone since her. No matter how many times he tried with countless trysts with all the ways they reminded him of her in their laughs, smiles, and eyes - they were not her.

Pained groan against her shoulder. Cloth ripped as he tore past her outdated petticoats and the silk of her undergarments. Desperate hands kneaded at her bare flesh. Thigh. Hip. The curve of her arse. Every inch of her skin grew hot, flushed under his touch. If Sebastian had been in his right mind not addled, by drink and frustration he would have handed it to her; for such a wellbred lady, she did not startle easily or cringe from his working hands. With a strung-out whine, she simply displaced the torn fabric so Sebastian's knee pressed between her thighs could provide her with more friction.

Sebastian sank to his knees, hooking her thigh around his broad shoulder. Balanced precariously, her back pressed against the stacks and her leg suspended quivering. Heel dug between his shoulder blades as she sought stability. Her limbs were lean…soft. Delicate like a lamb. No coiled muscle battle worn and firm disguised under her skirts.

That did not stop Sebastian from groaning against the sparse hair as he nestled himself between her thighs. Her muscles clenched tighter. Not with apprehension. No. With blinding unhindered desire. Whining breathlessly, as she urged him to fulfil his role, drop any pretence to do what they came here for. This was no budding romance. And there was no time to pretend otherwise.

Sebastian's tongue darted out teasing the tip through her folds. Eagerly seeking out her bundle of nerves to curl his tongue under her hood. Satisfied, a mewl passed her lips to at last have Sebastian where she desired him most. Hips bucked and writhed with every broad stroke and teasing lick against her soaking entrance. Brown tresses tangled harshly in her grip, those neatly filed nails scratching encouragingly against his scalp.

Her taste was unfamiliar on Sebastian's tongue, but he only lapped at her more fervently. Desperate. As if he savoured enough of her desire for him - he could burn away the memories of sweeter nectars.

Bunching her skirt closer to her stomach, Sebastian's view of her was unobstructed. The collar pulled open where she'd made swift work of the buttons of her high neckline; they hung like loosely strung pearls cascading down her chest which heaved with every breath. Breasts dimpled against the restrictive tightly laced corset.

Sebastian's eyes flicked up to meet hers. Not the right shape or hue but that intensity to them. Storm raging across a riptide, Sebastian, vulnerable in their depth. He could drown in them and would do so gladly.

Blood rushed south, and Sebastian groaned low, pained. He sucked on her clit, coaxing more slick to coat his lips and chin. Hoping beyond hope that her eyes locked on his would flutter closed in pleasure. Her mouth was ajar, each drawn-out moan growing louder as she approached her peak. Clever calculating gaze fixed on Sebastian. He knew he was exactly where she wanted him. Prey to her predator. His cock strained and achingly hard because of it.

Her back arched against the stacks, toes curling against the centre of his back, legs shook with the strain to hold herself upright. Sebastian was relentless. He devoured the quivering nub, tongue teasing as he sucked. Her passionate cry was unrestrained, legs threatening to buckle bringing her down like a house of cards as she collapsed over the edge. Aftershock of pleasure rolled over her, he kept a firm grip on her hip as she rested more heavily against him. His desire for her is confusing and just as precarious.

Sebastian unhooked her leg from his shoulder, palms running along the backs of her calves. She was still propped up feebly holding herself against the bookcase. Pads of her fingers clutching pathetically at the shelves with the ball of her heel holding purchase on the floor.

Orgasm ebbing, softening her predatory edge. A smirk played at Sebastian's lips as he looked up at her once polished appearance now dishevelled. Rattling, with a lust-drunk gaze that defiant chin hanging slightly ajar as she greedily gulped down air.

She narrowed her eyes at his smug expression and gathered her composure before slipping her ruined dress from her shoulders letting it puddle at her feet. Nail digging under his chin as she beckoned Sebastian upwards, pulling him in.

It made Sebastian's heart beat wildly against his chest. A caged canary faced with a falcon.

Teeth grazed his bottom lip, tongue seeking his own. Sebastian's clothes fell away easily from his broad frame. His shirt was discarded, followed by breeches which tangled around his ankles as they fumbled towards the settee. Muffled grunts into her mouth every time her palm grazed his cock, hard and throbbing, through his undergarments. Sebastian moved to lie her swiftly across the settee. One hand pressed into the small of her back the other tangled in amongst the pins now falling loose from her hair.

Inexplicably, she moved faster than Sebastian thought she was capable of. Leg hooked around his ankle like a snake pulling him off balance. Backs of his knees connected with the settee as his legs buckled and Sebastian collapsed bodily onto cushions. Rarely with his extensive training did anyone get the jump on him.

Her lips curled as she observed the way his enlarged head twitched against his belly more eagerly. "Now, I think it's my turn." Laces from her corset pulled loose, she let the camisole shift to the floor with it. "-And you looked far too pretty beneath me."

As she straddled his lap, Sebastian spluttered on his groan and the intoxicating sensation of her wet centre against his shaft. Her palms were flat, braced against his chest, nails scratching at the coarse hairs that grew there. Every inch of her soft, naked flesh pressed against him. His hands settled on the curve of her hips, sliding along her flushed skin with hands that seemed too large.

She really was quite pretty. Sebastian just wished the parts that didn't remind him of her made his heart race as much as the ones that did.

She caught his lips, fingers cupped against his jaw, her mouth moving against his. Teeth and tongue. Hot breath came out in short dulcet pants as she greedily tasted the remnants of her arousal on his lips.

Her hand snaked down between them, taking Sebastian's throbbing length in her hand. He hissed, as her thumb smoothed over the leaking slit, aligning him with her entrance. Eyelashes fluttered a satisfied sigh, as she sank down, taking him inside of her. Dainty as she may appear, she appeared to relish the stretch to accommodate his size, almost as much as he did. So tight she gripped his cock, it almost sent him hurtling over the edge.

Barely giving herself time to adjust before she canted her hips. Weight shifting so she could slide up his shaft until only the head of his cock remained before sinking back down onto Sebastian's girth more demandingly. Needy grunts reverberated in Sebastian's chest as he matched her frantic desperate pace. Forehead braced on her chest as he bucked his hips into her tight core. Pebbled nipple caught between his lips, her head thrown back in a wanton moan as Sebastian ever so gently grazed the peak with his teeth.

Sebastian closed his eyes. Whiskey fog coupled with the godly feel of her clenched around him, he relaxed into her eager pace. Inhibitions lowered, his mind straying to the well-worn path he rarely let himself tread.

Face striking contorted in ecstasy; a savage beauty like lightning striking the ocean. Mallowsweet scent; that soothed like a botanist's herbal balm. How perfectly her body wrapped around his own as if by design. Sebastian's teeth pressed hard against his tongue as her name danced upon it. With his eyes closed, hands held back - that shameful part of him could pretend it was her.

"Sebastian," the witch moaned. He didn't remember giving her his name. Nor asking hers. The voice he heard was not that polite West Country lilt but one conjured from Hades - his divine pleasure and punishment.

Can't let it be her.

Sebastian forced his eyes open, to look at the woman from the bar. Her neat hair, narrow shoulders and thin top lip. Only to find the lines separating fantasy from reality blurred and contorted. His stomach lurched.

Maybe he'd had more to drink than he thought.

Whiskey had crowded and garbled his senses as well as his inhibitions. Sebastian's vision was merely blurred. She looked like her. Not just in her eyes but the sloping curve of her neck, the arch of her nose, her hair longer and tangling against the neat pins that had once held it back.

It's all the whiskey.

If he could bring himself to look away from her face for even one moment he would see the room spinning. But he couldn't look away.

Those keen eyes bore into him, locked with his own and he swore they changed colour. The fire that had been smouldering within sparked, roaring, melting her irises into that familiar hue.

He didn't just have to squeeze his eyes shut to see her and pretend it was her impossibly tight walls clenching around him with every thrust.

There she was.

"You," Sebastian spluttered, disbelief tight in his chest. "No. No- It can't be you. This can't be happening." Who cares if he sounded mad? His mind was spiralled and scrambled, desperate to bring back the visage of the woman from the bar and right himself. This face; her face didn't waver. She rolled her hips once more, bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she cast her gaze down. Over her breasts and the faded scar that curled under the left from the crucio, he'd administered. Firm muscles of her legs earned from years of battle. Calloused hands of someone who knew little of comfort. All were once again her own.

Sebastian's world was spiralling, tipping on its axis. Tension in every muscle in his body. Still as beautiful as she was in his nightmares, even the ones where she tore out his heart. She clicked her tongue, amused then smiled. So wide, it bore too many teeth.

Fucking exquisite. Sebastian despised the way his heart faltered in his chest.

"Pity. I guess the kneazle's out of the bag," she purred, teeth raking sharp across his earlobe. So sharp it shocked his spiral back into sickening clarity like ice in his veins.

Like a shot, Sebastian wrapped his hand hard around her throat forcing her face away from him. Thumb pressed harshly into the corner of her jaw with his iron grip on her windpipe. Any sane woman would tremble to have his large hand like a vice around her throat in anger. Cower, under the venom in his eyes.

But she was far from sane; perhaps never had been. She gasped involuntarily choking around where his fingers so deeply pressed into her flesh, but the smile on her lips never faltered despite how he could feel the hammer of her blood against his fingertips.

"You should know I don't share," she wheezed. It wasn't the polite West Country drawl she'd adopted at the bar - but that feminine purr he knew far too well. Velvety, like a caress that sent shivers down his spine; and if it were possible simultaneously made his blood run cold and his cock impossibly stiffer where it was sheathed deep within her. She whimpered approvingly, hot breath ghosting his freckled cheeks.

"Fuck- how did you-" Choking on his groan as she expertly rolled her hips, grinding on his cock. Evil, manipulative witch. She knew exactly how to turn practically every rational thought in Sebastian's brain to smoke.

"Polyjuice. She was pretty don't you think? You seemed to like fucking her while it lasted. Maybe not as much as that curvy redhead from a few months ago...I had bruises on my thighs for weeks."

Somewhere deep in his psyche, Sebastian knew he should push her off. Bind her. Gag her. Put as much distance between himself and her and the mixed-up way she made him feel. Preferably in a cell in the deepest part of Azkaban the Ministry had long ago allocated for her when they signed the warrant for her arrest. At that moment, over the cacophony screaming through his head the only coherent thought was how to keep her desperately bouncing on his cock.

"I thought it was my turn to have some unsanctioned fun."

No - rose, bubbled and died in his throat. Caught somewhere amongst the shameful rasping groan as she began to rhythmically rock her hips. Never quite releasing her entirely, but Sebastian's grip on her throat loosened as his muscles slackened in shameful pleasure.

Using every bit of her newfound leash, she leaned forward to kiss him. Sin, like ambrosia on his tongue. Lips slotted against him, they moved in perfect harmony to a melody he wished had never been composed on his bones.

She wrapped around him as if the wild thing that she had always been had sprouted from the earth, and curled her tendrils around him. Or rather, like a constant wave beating against him she'd worn his surface. It was a marvel he hadn't crumbled into her sooner.

"You're mine you know," she cooed, her breath hot against his ear.

"I am not," Sebastian spat. But try as he might to deny it, curse her until his final breath - his words rang hollow. And he loathes himself all the more for it. She was not his any longer, but something else. Twisted by cruelty and power that simply wore the face of the woman he once loved.

Shame stirred in his gut; desire coursed through his blood.

"Denying it doesn't make it any less true. You know me blind. When my face is not my own. Fate has bound us, Sebastian. Just as I would know you in any life."

Sebastian gritted his teeth, cheek pressed against her sternum. Fingers digging into her shoulder blades, as he pounded his cock up into her harder, faster. If he was stronger, he would not be prey to her illicit designs for him - but he was not. She keened, greedy to take all he could give her. Consume him entirely if she could. Sebastian closed his eyes and cursed himself for being weak.

Vision narrowing, Sebastian groaned, low and pitiful into the curve of her neck. Ashamed of what he knew was coming. "I hate you," he cursed. Repeated it like a mantra, his lips against her sweat-salted skin as if he could transcribe the words onto her flesh.

Deep plunges into her warmth growing erratic as Sebastian's coil tightens. Her body clenched, tightening around him, with every thrust teased against her sweet spot coaxing more slick onto his cock. His punishing words merely rolled off her curves like water off a duck's back.

"S-Sebastian," her hoarse cry pierced through his resolve. Sebastian bit into her neck trying and failing to hold back from the precipice of the inevitable. Unwilling to surrender any more of himself to her. It only served to send her hurtling over the cliff. His cock buried deep inside of her, her head thrown back, cunt quivering as her climax broke. Orgasm, wracked through her in waves. Engulfing Sebastian's every sense.

Fire and Brimstone. Gentle breezes and mallowsweet.

Beauty. Terror.

Rhythm faltering, Sebastian's hips spluttered as that mounting coil finally snapped. Her name on his lips, her scent on his skin. Everything that remained of Sebastian Sallow was consumed entirely by her. He came hard - with a broken pathetic whine that forced itself from his body as he spilt inside of her.

It was no little death - it was all-consuming. A part of him would never come back from. Another piece of his soul surrendered along with what was left of his dignity.

Sebastian fought for breath. Unforgiving waters filled his chest, ice seized his joints, heart thundered as dark edges clouded his vision, threatening to drown out the light and sound. Choking on his saliva he wheezed, shoulders heaved forward violently. Fresh tears pricked in his eyes.

She shushed his soothingly, thumb tracing idle patterns on his skin with a sickening gentleness that curdled his stomach. He whined pathetically against her chest but she only gripped him harder. Fingers carded through his hair as she hummed a sweet tune peppering kisses to the crown of his chestnut hair.

Perhaps, in another life, he had the strength to overcome the guilt and sickness now seizing his bones. In another, perhaps there was no deception to be ashamed of.

He wasn't sure how long they sat entwined, soft cock still inside her, his spend leaking onto his thighs matting in the hair. When at last Sebastian's violent sobbing eased he felt the enchantment stretch across his body, taunt ropes strapped his arms to his sides, and bound his ankles. A chaste kiss against his temple as she slid from his lap.

Sebastian watched her and tried to pretend for a second, that he was not bound, she was not mad and hips swaying hypnotically as she pranced naked around their flat as she did every Sunday evening. Not his. Theirs. Another life, unstained by dark magic where she was still his.

Fussing with her dress, eyebrows pinched together, frowning as she examined the shredded yellow gown. She sighed, holding the unlaced corset over her breasts, gathering up the remnants to haul them to the kitchen island. She found his wand, with its emerald and onyx handle, the one that had belonged to his paternal great-grandfather. Back and forth she toyed with it in her hands.

"Put that down." A feeble attempt at a threat from a man bound, naked, cheeks streaked with stale tears. Tight from salt they felt stretched like a drum.

"You ruined my dress," she pouted. "The least you can do is help me fix it."

Traitorously, Sebastian's wand didn't so much as shudder in retaliation. It obeyed her easily, stitching up the splintered seams, her corset tightened, cinching at her waist. Her hairpins reorganised themselves. She looked almost like her old self, the girl she'd been at school, with a spark of fire in her eyes that mirrored his own.

"Before you go running off to the next little witch who bats her eyelashes at you, Bash. Try to remember - I don't share." She placed his wand back on the counter and slipped a canteen from her purse. She drank deeply. Gagging, hand smacking into her chest to keep down whatever foul liquid it contained.

If Sebastian had still been drunk the way her face bubbled like stew on a boil would have turned his stomach. Her lips thinned, her hair shrunk back into her scalp, her scars paled and her muscles softened. The woman from the Pub returned, exactly as he'd met her. It did nothing to quell the sickness churning in his gut.

"Au revoir mon amour." She was gone as quickly as she came, but her presence lingered like a gaping, festering wound.

Sebastian sat in the dark. Hatred for her that he cultivated in public and the private yearning he tended to as it grew like persistent weeds in his garden he tended had given way to emptiness. A void that for a time he was content to let swallow him whole as he stared at the cracks in his floor. Mourning the woman he'd loved. But most he mourned for himself, for all she took from him.

Shadows inched across the floor as dawn eventually broke. Long after the bindings had dissolved. Sebastian hadn't slept or moved for hours and his joints stiff, groaned as he got to his feet. He trudged to his bathroom and ran the water until it was scalding. Intent on scrubbing his skin raw. As if she could un-touch him.

#Please mind the tags #dark fic #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #non con

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peachesofteal · 2 years ago

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hii!! idk if you’ve already talked about this but how did simon and soap meet darling?

p.s. dead disco has me in such a chokehold i reread it literally all the time💞

Hi! I'm so glad you like Dead Disco, I have loved writing it too and am really enjoying exploring their relationship. I love an opportunity to talk about my pairings and explore them a bit so I wrote something as an answer to your Q. Thank you so much!

How did the guys meeting darling? Ghost x Soap x female reader 1.2k words - no warnings/tags - takes place before Dead Disco This was not edited, just a brain to typing ramble. Sorry for any mistakes.

It was at a bar. Not the dive kind, that you were particularly fond of now, but an upscale, too fancy for you type place. The kind where they serve cocktails in thin rimmed glassware with crystal clear ice cubes and two ounce pours of whiskey that cost triple digits.

You were there for a party, a bridal shower, of all things. Zipped into an uncomfortable dress, feet already crying from the too tall heels that you chose. The champagne soured your stomach, the fake smile you had plastered to your face slipping more and more as the minutes ticked on, the pressure of too many eyes, too many people, too many questions finally starting to wear you down. The bride-to-be was beautiful, and you were miserable.

Not because she was getting married, of course. You were thrilled for her, proud of her for actually pulling the trigger on happily ever after even if it was something you’re not sure you believed in. She was happy and that’s all that matters. You’re a supportive friend, after all. But, you were tired, the social aspect of a gathering like that quickly overwhelming you, forcing you to slink to a table in the back where you could hide your bare feet under the pristine tablecloth and slump over in your chair, fixing your eyes on your phone so you could escape, if only for a moment.

Your reprieve didn’t last long before a gaggle of aunts and well-meaning middle-aged women swarmed you, endless questions spouting from their mouths, inquiries about how you were, how your job was, if you were dating anyone being passed around between them like you were some science fair exhibit to be analyzed and dissected.

You slipped away when they were distracted, fleeing the table out the side door of the banquet room and down the back stairs to where the brick patio of the street level bar was, which was open for regular business and customers, seeing as it was a Saturday afternoon.

You met Johnny first, that day. You had turned the corner of the stairwell and nearly stumbled into him, your body skidding to a stop when you felt the cold brick on your bare feet and realized you had left your god damn shoes upstairs. He had been leaning against the wall with an almost empty beer in his hand, mohawk slightly grown out, t shirt accentuating his arms, soft shadow of stubble lining his jaw. You clocked him right away because he was beautiful, gorgeously handsome in the way that made you want to sidle right up next to him and take a closer look. There was something in his eyes, when he registered your presence at the bottom of the steps, something… hot, a heat that curved around your neck and across your throat, down to the very center of your stomach, the feeling of it awaking something desirous, something needy inside you. When he gave you a sweet smile, your knees felt light, and then he gestured to you, a sweeping hand motion that felt like an invitation to come over.

So, you did.

His name was Johnny. He was brilliantly charming and utterly funny, while also being extremely intelligent and cordial. He was easy to talk to, and the two of you struck up a conversation without hinderance, the flow of the back and forth actually enjoyable and not a drag like most interactions you had with men lately. He was interesting, and sweet, and sexy and you were trying really hard not to drool as he asked you questions about yourself, what you did, where you were from, who you were. You were so engrossed in him that you didn’t even see the other man, the one in the mask that had arrived to stand opposite him, until he was practically casting a shadow over you.

He was huge. The width of his body, his neck, even his palms had your eyes subtly widening and your gaze tracing him from head to toe out in wonder, and confusion. Even though he was wearing a black cloth mask over his nose and mouth, you could make out his bone structure, the angles of his face and cheeks telling you that he certainly was beautiful underneath it, and he had a crop of sandy brown-blonde hair that contrasted his eyes, their copper brown hue refracting in the light and nearly startling you with how stunning they were. He pinned you with them, your body frozen where it stood like you were an animal, unable to flee, or speak, or formulate a sentence. You just stood there, blinking at him like you had suddenly gone dumb. Throat dry. Lips parted.

And then, he handed Johnny one of the beers he was holding. Their fingers grazed, and Johnny’s thumb lifted, stroking along the back of masked man’s hand, an affectionate, soothing gesture that you couldn’t look away from. Something so small, so simple, communicated a million words between them within a second.

There was something about them, something different that you couldn’t put your finger on that drew you in, pulling you closer and closer into their orbit, until the man in the mask looked down and said:

“Yer not wearin’ any shoes.” The deep, rough timbre of his voice scratched something in the back of your mind, and you felt butterflies thrash in your belly. Your body grew warm, embarrassment snaking up your spine and you took a step backwards, a hand nervously rising to find a piece of your hair to fidget with while you tried to manage a smile and explain.

“I uh, left them upstairs. At the shower. I was at a bridal shower.” Masked man cocks his head like he’s considering your words.

“Hurt your feet?” You nodded immediately, a tinge of relief cooling the heat of your embarrassment, and Johnny gave you a sympathetic smile before he turned to man in the mask and gave your name, the Scottish accent shifting the pronunciation so that it sounded all that more attractive. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just regarded you silently, like he was processing you, x-raying you, seeing you inside and out, trying to decide what to say next, before his voice softened and he said, “I’m Ghost.” Johnny tsked aloud and Ghost shifted, his shoulders tensing and relaxing, eyes narrowing above the mask before his chest deflated with a sigh. “Johnny.” He warned, to which Johnny rolled his eyes, and slung his arm around your shoulder affectionately.

“What do you say you get your shoes, and we go find another bar?” You nodded your agreement immediately, not caring if these two were going to throw you over their shoulders and hide you away forever, or not. You already knew, you’d be going wherever they went. “Atta girl.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze, and you high tailed it up the stairs, pausing to look back for just a second to see him placing his hand on Ghost’s ribs, the gesture reciprocated by Ghost stepping closer and lowering his forehead to Johnny’s, an intimate glimpse that had your heart rattling in your chest.

You were a goner.

#dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley #ghost x soap #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x ghost x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #peaches writes

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femininenachos · 1 year ago

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Do vacation clexa keep wells up all night when they go at it all night

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The taxi ride is a test of restraint.

It’s only a ten minute journey, but it’s ten minutes of Lexa sitting right there, looking like that. Lips made even poutier from kissing. Hair finger-tousled and swept to one side, and Clarke can’t wait to tangle her hands in it again, itching to touch.

Even cast half in shadow, Lexa’s profile is downright rude, the cut of her jawline sharp enough to slice someone’s thighs. And when she turns dark, dark eyes on Clarke, that burning look scorches right through her.

At this point her underwear is a lost cause. She’s in serious danger of leaving a damp patch on the back seat, more than a little paranoid that the scent of her arousal is wafting through to the front where the driver is absently tapping the steering wheel in time with the song on the radio. (Hips Don’t Lie—and in Clarke’s professional opinion, Ms Shakira is correct. Because Clarke can’t stop shifting hers incessantly, unable to ignore the wetness pooling between her thighs, clamped as tightly as they are together.)

She winds down the window, hoping a breeze will help, but the dense, warm air that rushes in does nothing to cool her body. Neither does the covert stroke of Lexa’s little finger along Clarke’s own where their hands lay flat on the seat between them, or the faint smirk that’s tucked into the corner of Lexa’s mouth.

Blessedly, there are no signs of life in the villa once they pull up. The place is dark and silent when Clarke unlocks the door and leads Lexa inside; Wells, nowhere to be seen. Clarke prays he’s fast asleep in his room with noise canceling headphones on, because she has a feeling things are going to get… vocal.

She toes off her shoes, grateful for the cool marble floor tiles beneath her bare soles.

“I’d give you the tour, but uh…”

A gentle tug on her wrist draws her around, and whatever glib thing Clarke was going to say dies in her throat. Mind gone blank, because Lexa is all up in her space and a mouth that was surely designed for sin is less than an inch away, so close Clarke feels the soft fan of breath on her face.

She only gets a second to admire the tiny freckle that adorns Lexa’s top lip before Lexa tilts in. Slides a hand along Clarke’s jaw and into her hair. Kisses her slow and searching in a way that makes her tremble from head to toe, a gradual build of passion that floods her body with waves of tingling warmth.

While she could easily indulge in this for hours, she also craves so much more, and now is not the time for subtlety.

Taking the initiative, Clarke guides Lexa’s free hand to her inner thigh and presses meaningfully, hoping Lexa will take the hint.

And, thank God, she does.

Long fingers trail up and up.

When they brush against drenched cotton, Lexa’s sharp inhale sends a hot flare up through Clarke’s belly and she feels herself drip some more.

Lexa breathes out, a half-formed whisper in the shape of Clarke’s name on her lips. She pulls away slightly to look at Clarke, hooded eyes scanning her face before they drop to her mouth.

“Can I touch you?” Lexa asks, her accent grown thicker, coated with desire.

Clarke’s only answer is to take hold of Lexa’s nape and drag her mouth back to hers. She runs her tongue along Lexa’s lower lip then licks inside, a groan catching in the back of Clarke’s throat when a thumb traces her through her underwear, rolling over her clit.

For a second, she thinks she might come from that alone. Feels it rushing up on her fast. All it would take is a little more sustained pressure. A few firm, circular strokes. But Lexa shifts away, cupping Clarke instead, and she groans again—this time in frustration.

She feels the slow stretch of Lexa’s grin as they kiss.

It‘s a provocation—and Clarke never backs down from a challenge.

Ensnaring Lexa’s bottom lip, Clarke scrapes her teeth over the plump fullness of it. She relishes the hitch of Lexa’s breath, how Lexa’s fingers flex against the flimsy scrap of fabric that separates them.

“Go ahead. Touch me. Put your hand inside my panties,” Clarke whispers, even as her face grows hotter and some small part of her squirms at the brazen words coming out of her own mouth. But she quiets that voice. Draws on her inner sex vixen. “Feel how wet I am for you.”

She punctuates it with a roll of her hips.

A slight tremor goes through Lexa.

She kisses harder, rougher, the heel of her hand rubbing in to meet an urgent grind and before Clarke is prepared for it, she’s already shaking apart, releasing a choked whine into Lexa’s open mouth.

Her wrist slows to a stop.

She draws back half an inch, eyebrows raised.

“Guess I couldn’t wait,” Clarke says with a small, breathless chuckle. Her cheeks burn.

Lexa just makes a sound, words apparently failing her, but Clarke understands, because she feels that same brain-melting lust too. It isn’t just Lexa’s good looks that are such a turn on (though she is beautiful—even more so with her mouth swollen and wet). She has this understated presence, an aura that surrounds her. Innate magnetism that draws you in. Clarke noticed it at the bar, the way Lexa’s friends seemed to be caught in her orbit. It’s the confidence she projects, too. Or did. Clarke is pleased to see Lexa lose a little of that cool now, eyes wide and jaw hanging slack.

But she swiftly recovers, luring Clarke back in for a kiss by the grip on her neck.

Just before their lips reconnect, Lexa pauses.

She looks over Clarke’s shoulder, a speculative gleam in her eyes.

“You have a jacuzzi?”

~*~

They’re incapable of keeping their lips to themselves while they wait for the hot tub to fill. Clarke’s stomach won’t stop fluttering. Every nerve in her body is tingling, charged by the heat and pressure of Lexa’s mouth moving hungrily against her own. Lit up inside by the way Lexa’s hand is curved around her jaw, the other gripping her waist to keep her close, how Lexa sighs and fucking pouts every time Clarke starts to pull away. And how can she possibly resist that? She’s powerless not to give in.

It’s only once the tub is almost overflowing that Clarke suddenly finds the presence of mind to separate, hurrying across the courtyard to shut off the water supply and turn on the bubble jets. She injects a little more seductive appeal in the sway of her hips on her return.

“Would you like a drink? The fridge is pretty well stocked. We’ve got beer, wine, all kinds of mixers if you’d like something stronger.”

Lexa shakes her head. “I don’t want to have…” she pauses, clearly searching for a phrase in translation, “brain fog? Ah, fuzzy memories.”

Clarke drifts closer, curbing a smile.

“I don’t want to be hazy on the details either.”

She doesn’t want to forget a single thing about this night, not when it’s going to figure prominently in her fantasies for the rest of the year.

(The rest of your damn life. Be real, girl.)

Lexa’s eyes raking up and down her body with intent is already locked into her memory.

Once she’s within arm's reach, Lexa snags Clarke by the waist again and draws her near. Their hips bump gently and Clarke leans in to taste the slight smirk that sits on Lexa’s lips, just because she can.

Things intesifiy quickly, and before long their hands start to wander, Clarke feeling her way to the hem of Lexa’s t-shirt. She pulls it up and off, both smiling when it gets caught in Lexa’s hair, only for Clarke to suck in a quiet breath as soon as she registers Lexa isn’t wearing a bra. Her eyes drift, taking in the expanse of Lexa’s sun-bronzed skin, tits the exact same golden shade as the rest of her, and Clarke absently licks her lips, wanting nothing more than to have those perfect pink nipples in her mouth.

She also gets her first full look at the tattoo that spans most of Lexa’s upper arm.

Fascinated, Clarke lets her fingers trace the swirls and lines of black ink, three symmetrical bands stacked on top of one another. The design reminds her of the intricate carvings at the top of the crumbling stone columns that she saw dozens of pictures of online when she was researching accommodation options, remnants of the ruined temple that occupies the highest point of the island, only a couple hours’ hike from here, according to the Airbnb listing.

“This is beautiful. What does it mean?”

Lexa peers down at her arm. “It represents each generation of my family in Polis. My great-grandfather was born in a small village called Trikru on the mainland. He was only nineteen when he left his home, everyone he knew, and came here to make a better life.”

She lifts her chin as she speaks, a note of pride in her voice. “He built the taverna from nothing nearly a century ago, and it’s still standing today, passed down through our family.”

“The legacy continues. That’s wonderful.”

“Mm. Now my half-sister manages the place.”

“Not your parents?”

“They’re retired, but they still help out during the busy summer months.” She purses her lips. “Sometimes I think the power goes to Anya’s head. She enjoys bossing me around too much.”

Clarke smiles to herself. “I’m going to take a wild guess that she’s the older sibling?”

“By seven years. She says she’s preparing me to take over eventually.” Lexa sighs. A slight frown appears on her brow as her jaw shifts. “Duty and tradition is everything to her, but I have dreams of my own.”

Clarke runs her fingertips lightly over the patterns on Lexa’s skin, feeling goosebumps rise to the surface. “What do you want to do instead?”

A shrug. “Travel. See the world. Experience other cultures and far-away places.” She looks at Clarke, rolling her eyes a little. “I know, it’s a cliché.”

“Well… if you ever find yourself in Washington DC, look me up. I’d show you around the city.”

It’s half tongue in cheek, but the way Lexa studies her for a beat, so solemn yet clearly unconvinced, Clarke finds herself saying, “I’m serious. You should visit. My work schedule is crazy but if I can wangle some time off, I’d be happy to play tour guide. Plus, I have a guest room.”

Another of those minimal smiles touches Lexa’s lips, her mouth just barely pulling to the side. “We wouldn’t be sleeping together?”

Suddenly coy, Clarke lowers her gaze. Eyes on Lexa’s ink once more as she feels herself flush again. “I mean...” She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and looks up through her lashes. “I could be persuaded to share my bed.”

“Yes?”

She nods. Whispers, “yeah” before the distance between them vanishes and they’re back to kissing. Hands gripping, running up and down, moving restlessly over dips and curves, and Clarke can’t control her shivers, a current buzzing through her, a million tiny sparks going off under her skin.

Lexa palms at her breasts and the chafe of satin bra cups against Clarke’s nipples is enough for a moan to slip out between the seal of their mouths.

A minute later she’s gasping hotly, “take off my dress” before recapturing Lexa’s lips, driven by the overwhelming need to feel skin on skin at last.

Nodding once, never ceasing contact, Lexa peels the straps from Clarke’s shoulders. She locates the zip at the back and drags it down smoothly. Tugs, and Clarke feels the dress slip from her body to puddle at her feet. The bra is next to go, unhooked with consummate ease. Warm hands move over her hips and waist, gliding up her ribs to take hold of her tits again. This time it’s Lexa who makes a sound, a low, throaty groan that only adds to the flood in Clarke’s underwear.

They tip their foreheads together, breathing heavily as they watch one another, eyelids at half mast. Without a word, Clarke reaches for the button at the waistband of Lexa’s cut-offs, but the thumbs slowly circling her nipples make her far less dexterous than she should for all her surgical training. Finally, she pops the button and gets the fly open. It’s a joint effort to wiggle the tight denim down Lexa’s hips, taking her underwear along with the shorts, all smiles when she kicks them off to the side.

Clarke only gets a brief glimpse down Lexa’s body before she’s drawn back in by the cheeks for a greedy, open-mouthed kiss. As if she wasn’t already painfully aroused by everything else, the subtle definition of abs, the flare of wide hips, and the uninterrupted view of those legs pours further fuel onto the fire. Like an unstoppable force, Clarke pursues Lexa’s mouth relentlessly, recklessly, the forward momentum driving them across the courtyard until Lexa’s back meets the nearest vertical surface.

Unfortunately, it happens to be a vine-covered trellis and Lexa lets out a muffled yelp, wincing when something jags her bare skin.

Twin puffs of air hit their cheeks, expelled through their nostrils, before they each dissolve into quiet chuckles, the absurdity not lost on either of them.

“Sorry,” Clarke says through a slight grimace, running a soothing hand down Lexa’s spine.

“Don’t be.”

Lexa is smiling, but Clarke still dies a little inside, already imagining Octavia’s reaction when she hears about this during their inevitable overanalysis of the entire evening at brunch.

She takes a deep breath. “So…” Followed by a short laugh. “Where were we?”

Lexa inclines her head towards the hot tub, teeth dug into her lower lip.

And just like that, the awkwardness is forgotten.

Not taking her eyes off Lexa’s, Clarke needs no further instruction, pushing her panties all the way down and stepping out of them. Her heart is racing, but she holds still under Lexa’s appraisal, a flash of heat surging over her when that dark gaze settles low for a stretch of seconds and Lexa swallows, lips parting soundlessly on an exhale.

And while she stands there on display without a stitch on, Clarke is really fucking glad she went ahead with that appointment to tame her bikini line, however painful it was getting waxed within an inch of her life.

The ordeal was worth it for the spell she seems to have cast over Lexa.

Not that Clarke isn’t equally entranced, legs and hips and breasts and that gorgeous face all competing for her attention.

She moves on instinct, curling a hand around Lexa’s neck and slanting their mouths together again. Barefoot, they’re of a similar height, and there’s something so exhilarating about the way their lips and bodies meld. Clarke can’t contain a string of tiny halting whimpers as they trade deep kisses, hyper-aware of every point of contact, from the skim of hard nipples to the brush of their thighs to the press of Lexa’s fingers at the base of her spine, sliding lower to grab at her ass, raising another desperate groan.

God, if this is what handsy making out with Lexa does to her, Clarke doesn’t know how she’ll survive once they dispense with foreplay and get down in earnest. At this rate, she might be flying home in a casket.

It doesn’t help matters when Lexa’s mouth strays, trailing along the underside of Clarke’s jaw, sucking shallow kisses down her throat to find that sensitive spot where neck meets shoulder. Already weakened, Clarke’s knees nearly give way to feel the nip of teeth there.

Somehow, somehow she finds the willpower to slip out of Lexa’s grasp.

Worth it for the reappearance of the pout, the flash of consternation on Lexa’s face as her eyebrows dip together.

But that pretty scowl is erased by a dark look of a different kind when Clarke climbs into the hot tub. Eyes blaze over her naked form with enough heat to rival the Mediterranean sun, and it gives her such a rush.

People have wanted her before; that’s nothing new. It comes with the territory, being blonde and in reasonably good shape (considering her questionable eating habits, constant state of fatigue, and general disdain for working out). She hasn’t gone through life oblivious to the attention. Frankly, she’s sick and tired of male patients, young and old alike, salivating over her like cartoon dogs during consults, eyes practically on stalks while they stare at her chest. And it’s truly wild how often she’s been hit on by visiting relatives moments after breaking the bad news about their loved ones.

Hell, it’s become a grim bonding ritual to compare horror stories with fellow residents during breaks or on the rare occasions when she allows them to drag her out to a bar after work.

This, the way Lexa looks at her, is worlds away from what basically amounts to workplace harassment.

Lexa’s desire is a thrilling, palpable thing, a thick charge in the air that makes it difficult to think or breathe.

Half dizzy with lust, Clarke sinks into the water and reclines against the tub, pulse accelerating as she watches Lexa put her hair up into a loose knot. Lips subtly curling at one corner. Nothing unsure or shy about her as she advances, and Clarke wishes she could bottle some of that supreme confidence for herself, because it doesn’t always come naturally.

Lexa takes the spot opposite, lowering herself into the tub. Drapes an arm along the edge and waits.

One look, the slightest twitch of an eyebrow is invitation enough.

Clarke pounces, propelling herself through the water to swing a leg over Lexa’s lap and reclaim her mouth. Fingers dig into Clarke’s hips, pulling her closer, their bellies and breasts flush. Cradling Lexa’s jaw in both hands, Clarke pushes her tongue past Lexa’s teeth, slipping inside to flick across the roof of her mouth, revelling in the whimper it earns her, how Lexa’s grip tightens as the kiss turns greedier. Hot and wet and dirty enough for Clarke to start to grind her hips in search of friction. Already on course for a second orgasm when Lexa hasn’t even fully fingered her yet. Just the thought of this girl being knuckle deep, the reach of those long fingers, gets Clarke halfway there and she groans unabashedly. Kisses Lexa until they’re each short of breath, panting into the humid slice of air between their open mouths.

“Can I fuck you?” The hard ‘k’ hits Clarke’s lips in a hot puff and she shivers, despite the toasty temperature of the water churning all around her, steam rising off the surface.

She holds back a quip (it’s like you read my mind), sensing Lexa is serious about asking for permission by the way she searches her face so intently for any sign of hesitance, and Clarke melts a little to know that her comfort level and boundaries are at the forefront of Lexa’s mind, which is more than can be said for some of her past casual encounters.

“Yes,” Clarke says, leaving no room for doubt that they’re very much on the same page here, before she leans in to brush their lips together again. She makes a noise. Not lifting her mouth away, she adds in a heated tone, “God, I just need you inside me.”

It has the intended effect. Lexa surges into the next kiss with a ferocity that steals Clarke’s breath away and scrambles her brain. At Lexa’s silent urging and with a gentle squeeze of her hips, she’s repositioned so quickly that it’s kind of a blur how she came to be lifted up and sat on the edge of the hot tub with Lexa kneeling in the space between her legs.

“Is this okay?” Lexa asks, always checking in, and doing an impressive job of managing to keep her eyes up, showing far more restraint than Clarke would in Lexa’s place.

She has to remind herself to use words and not just shove Lexa’s perfect face into her crotch.

“More than okay.”

It’s automatic, how Clarke puts her arms out on either side to brace herself in anticipation. Held in thrall by the tilt of beestung lips as Lexa runs her palms along the tops of Clarke’s thighs and over her hips, dragging her that tiny bit closer, and Clarke doesn’t have the mental capacity to tamp down on a moan, beyond ready for this.

Green eyes dip down finally and Clarke sees that little smile falter. Lexa’s lips part, the tip of a pink tongue darting out to moisten them, and with it, the last of Clarke’s inhibitions fall away.

She spreads her thighs wider, skin prickling all over as she feels the weight of Lexa’s stare, roaming freely now, voraciously taking in every inch on display.

When their eyes lock again, it sends a jolt through Clarke. A spike of need so sharp that her locked elbows wobble and she forgets to breathe for a second, hanging on Lexa’s every move as she leans in.

The eye contact, heavy and sustained, when she tastes Clarke for the first time, lashes flickering, a thick groan in Lexa’s throat that Clarke feels the vibrations of through her whole body—fuck, she nearly comes on the spot.

Helpless not to, she arches into it, biting down hard on her lip to stifle a moan as a warm, velvety soft tongue runs through her.

A slow, deliberate lick around her entrance draws a whimper, Clarke shamelessly lifting her hips to ask for more only for Lexa’s hands to anchor her firmly in place.

With Clarke at her mercy, Lexa uses the flat of her tongue, broad laps that make Clarke’s toes curl, slipping against the porcelain tub with a squeak. Lexa varies the pace and pattern, slowing down or speeding up to prevent Clarke from settling into a rhythm. Every little lick and swirl has her twisting and squirming, and a sob of frustration starts to build in her chest.

But Lexa’s eyes are shut, lost in the bliss, a flush high on her cheeks. Mouth sliding over wet flesh, slick noises drowned out by the rumbling jacuzzi jets and the harsh, ragged breaths that Clarke expels into the night air.

She winds a hand into Lexa’s hair, nails scratching mindlessly against Lexa’s scalp as she works Clarke higher, drawing circles around her clit, the pressure in the pit of her stomach coiling tighter and tighter.

Sweat covers her skin and her calves tremble with the strain as she rocks forward, undulating against that mouth, chasing her release without a care for how desperate it might seem.

(It’s been six months without anything better than her own hand or a vibrator between her legs, so she’s willing to cut herself some slack.)

The hands curved around Clarke’s hips slide down, pushing her thighs even further apart, tearing a gasp from her. It feels like she’s being split wide open, exposed in a way that goes beyond mere nudity, but she trusts Lexa, finds safety and reassurance in the sweep of thumbs back and forth over the inside of her thighs as Lexa devours her.

She barely lasts another minute under the onslaught. Pushed so hard and fast over the edge that her jaw drops and a throaty moan flies out.

Every muscle in her body tightens, hips shooting up to hold herself against the firm press of Lexa’s tongue, suspended there for those glorious seconds of blinding pleasure that seem to stretch on and on.

In her mind’s eye, Clarke pictures what this must look like: her neck tensed and head thrown back, giving herself over with complete abandon, and it only intensifies the feeling, the tremors working through her all the more forcefully.

And Lexa doesn’t relent.

She keeps on tonguing Clarke through the aftershocks, wringing out every last twitch and jerk until she can’t take any more, using her grip on Lexa’s wildly mussed locks to drag her mouth away, too overstimulated to endure another second or she might scream.

Even so, Clarke shivers again once she catches sight of Lexa’s expression, the wetness shining on her lips and chin, pupils pushed to the outer edges, only a thin ring of green surrounding the void. She looks like she’s the one who just got eaten out expertly, and Clarke doesn’t know how to process that, not in her present state.

All she’s capable of doing is tugging on Lexa’s hair, urging her up, another low moan passing between them when she gets a taste of herself on Lexa’s lips, greedy for more.

They remain fused in deep, languid kisses. Just exploring each other’s mouths, keeping things at a low simmer, now and then turning up the heat to bring the sizzle back. Whenever a little more tongue is added to the mix, that molten, heavy feeling settles between Clarke’s thighs again and she attacks Lexa’s mouth with renewed vigour.

By the time they pull apart for a breather, Clarke’s lips are tingling and her backside is half numb from being perched on the edge of the tub for so long.

Still, their lips cling. A string of saliva connects them as she backs off, just far enough to murmur into the gap, “Could we take this inside? I can’t feel my ass anymore.”

Lexa’s eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughs and she gets this cute little crease above her top lip that Clarke could fixate on for days.

As her gaze drifts around Lexa’s features, taking in the toothy smile and the sparkle in those big green eyes, Clarke’s heart thumps a little harder, a little faster, and she thinks: damn, I could really fall for you.

Without a doubt, it’s the flood of oxytocin in her system talking, but that half-formed thought causes an instant adrenaline spike, kicking up her pulse and drying out her mouth.

She blinks and glances down, biting her tongue before she blurts out something far too recklessly vulnerable when they only just met tonight and she doesn’t even know Lexa’s last name, much less her views on long distance.

It’s safer to steer this back to sex. That’s why they’re here, after all. There’s no sense in deluding herself otherwise when she’ll be gone in two weeks and Lexa will have already moved on to the next girl that catches her eye.

So Clarke pushes all other thoughts aside and lets her palms slide down to cup Lexa’s breasts, pleased when Lexa pushes into her grasp and they both let out a small, grateful sigh.

Oh, yeah, this she can do with certainty.

“Anyway,” Clarke gives a slow knead, rewarded by Lexa’s hitch of breath. Hard nipples poke into the centre of her palms. “I’m still waiting for you to follow through on your promise to fuck me.” Her voice dips lower. “Or are you all talk, Lexa?”

They share a blistering look.

Lexa’s eyes flash, a glint that says challenge accepted.

“I’m just getting started, Clarke.”

She isn’t sure what’s more arousing, the arch, almost arrogant tone, accompanied by the flex of one eyebrow, or the sound of her name from Lexa’s mouth, wrapped in an accent that just oozes sensuality.

Either way, she pretends to be unaffected.

“Oh, yeah?”

With a hum and a slow, minuscule nod, Lexa tips her head to nudge into another kiss, but Clarke evades it at the last second, fighting a smirk when she spies Lexa’s little pout.

“Well, then.” Clarke brings her lips close to Lexa’s ear. “Show me how hard you can make me come.”

#I was going to post just the first thousand words but happy sin day I guess #vacation au #my fic #asks

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sm0lprism · 5 months ago

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Bite-Sized (11) - A BG3 G/t fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 | Previous chapter| Next chapter | Series master list

Summary: Astarion devises a plan to find Ria, while Ria herself ventures into the depths of the Goblin Camp to track down Minthara.

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: Dehumanisation, LOTS OF FEARPLAY, swearing/course language, threats of violence, violence, blood, gore. Ria is treated awfully, bearing in mind Minthara is under the influence of the Absolute here.

Word count: 5.1k

All Astarion could do was watch helplessly as the tiny borrower disappeared into the hole in the wall to the Goblin Camp, his fingers only managing to brush through her auburn hair moments before she vanished into the wall. His face tightened as he gritted his teeth in frustration, and stretched back up to his full height. A flicker of guilt bloomed in his chest as he processed the situation. Ria had run away from him because of what he had just put her through, and there was no doubt that the whole ordeal had resurfaced some unpleasant memories for her from when they had first met. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling guilty, but the feeling refused to leave him.

His tongue swirled around in his jaw, feeling what remained of her taste in his mouth, along with the taste of his own blood from where she had stabbed him repeatedly. He couldn’t deny it, but she had tasted delicious on his tongue, and he immediately felt a pang in his stomach reminding him of his insatiable hunger. It would’ve been so easy for him to swallow her right then and there, and a large part of him had been incredibly tempted to do just that, but he had resisted. While he would never admit it out loud, a small part of him was beginning to grow rather fond of the borrower.

Gods, the tadpole must’ve eaten a hole in my brain for me to be feeling like this about a borrower of all creatures.

He could only hope that Ria would be smart enough to stick to the shadows and hide, or at least hide long enough until he found her. He hated to think what Lae’zel would do to him if she found out that her tiny apprentice had been killed in the Goblin Camp because he had brought her there. Not to mention Ria was completely unarmed, her only weapon stubbornly lodged inside his mouth. Running his tongue along his teeth, he soon felt the small handle of Ria’s dagger near the back of his throat. The weapon was stuck in the flesh of his gums, giving him a piercing pain in his jaw. Grunting in frustration, he attempted to manoeuvre the blade with his tongue, but the blade refused to budge. If only he could look in a mirror, he would probably have better luck removing it, although that was certainly not an option with his affliction.

“A-ha! There you are!”

Astarion turned on his heel to see the familiar face of the wizard, his eyes scanning the vampire spawn up and down as he tried to make sense of what he had just walked in on.

“Care to explain what you’re doing Astarion?” Gale asked, his brows furrowing.

“Nothing that concerns you Gale,” Astarion retorted, swallowing the gathering pool of saliva down his throat, along with the last remaining taste of the borrower in his mouth.

Gale arched one eyebrow at Astarion, clearly not completely convinced.

“I saw you were acting rather strange around the goblins,” Gale remarked. “I didn’t see the whole event that transpired, but what happened exactly?”

A flicker of panic stirred in his chest as the wizard probed him for questions. It was fine, Gale had no idea that Ria was even here, or that she had become all too familiar with his mouth against her will. But even still, he knew the wizard was the sharpest out of everyone in his little group. He had to make sure that Gale wouldn’t detect anything suspicious.

“Oh, the goblins?” Astarion chuckled. “They insisted that I try some of their wretched beer. Of course I obliged them, I didn’t want to seem rude. It was positively foul, mind you. I would not recommend it.”

“Note taken,” Gale replied. “I suppose you can tell Karlach that later, she seemed ecstatic to try some.” The wizard paused, his gaze flicking over Astarion’s mouth for a moment. “Do you have something stuck in your teeth?”

Astarion’s eyes widened. “N-no, of course not! Why would there be?” He cleared his throat. “It’s not like I eat solid food.”

Gale pursued his lips, his brows knitting together as he eyed up the vampire spawn.

“Alright then,” Gale said after what felt like years. “We’re going to head inside the Goblin Camp now. Wyll and Karlach are already waiting inside.”

“Right,” Astarion replied, an idea hatching in his brain. “Why don’t you three go ahead, I’ll catch up in my own time. I might investigate to see if the goblins have any loot worth taking.”

Gale wetted his lips, mulling over Astarion’s suggestion.

“Hmm…okay. Are you sure you want to do that? It’s probably best if we stick together.”

“Trust me, Gale, I can meld into the shadows a lot better without having to worry about the three of you,” Astarion said. “I’ll catch up with you later. Besides, we’d be able to cover more ground if we split up.”

If I can leave the group, then I can find Ria by myself, and they won’t have to know a thing, he thought to himself, hoping that Gale would agree to his idea.

“I suppose that is a fair point,” Gale answered. “Just make sure to let us know if you happen to come across the druid. We need to get him out if we want to have any hope of resolving the conflict in the grove.”

“Absolutely,” Astarion replied with a sly smile. Good. Gale had bought it. Now he had a chance of finding Ria, hopefully before Minthara did.

***

Darkness soon smothered Ria’s body as she scrambled through the small opening in the wall, she could still hear Astarion’s voice shouting her name from the outside but she did not pay him any mind. Despite his attempt at drying her, her body was still damp and cold from his saliva, which made her shiver as she ran through the entrance. Forcing back more tears, she darted through the dark as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. She could see that she was inside the walls of the main building of the Goblin Camp, stone surrounding every inch and corner with no visible end in sight. At this point, she didn’t really care where she ended up, all that mattered was that she got as far away from Astarion as much as possible. She continued to race forward, her breathing ragged and heavy, until she saw a glowing orb of light up ahead.

A way out.

Clambering with every ounce of energy left in her body, she forced herself onwards until she reached the end of the tunnel. She tentatively poked her head out of the opening and held her breath. She was in the interior of the Goblin Camp, the stone walls seemed to stretch on forever as she gazed upwards and shuddered at the gruesome décor. Bones were strung high across the walls and pillars, illuminated dimly by flickering candlelight. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her nostrils and she had to force herself not to gag or make any noise in fear of outing herself. The walls were cold and clammy to the touch, and mingled in with the scent of burning flesh, she could detect traces of old blood present on the stone. Rumbling footsteps of the goblins vibrated through her skeleton and she stiffened as large feet walked right across from her. Fortunately, they didn’t see her as they stomped on, completely oblivious to the tiny borrower infiltrating their camp.

“Praise the Absolute!” The goblins chanted, throwing their fists in the air as they marched further into the building.

What in the hells is the Absolute?

Ria had heard this word uttered a few times by some of the goblins, but she still had no idea what it meant. Was it a cult or following of some kind? She had no idea, but whatever it was, it certainly couldn’t be any good.

I need to find Minthara.

Her original goal resurfaced in her brain, reminding her of the task at hand and her whole reason for coming to this awful place to begin with. She needed to find Minthara and fast, before she was spotted by any of the goblins there. She quietly snuck outside of the hole in the wall and moved down the interior of the building, clinging to the walls and doing her best to meld into the shadows. She managed to pass by multiple goblin guards completely unseen, not one of them so much as glancing down in her direction. Thanks to her diminutive size, being dunked in alcohol, and, much to her distaste, Astarion’s saliva, the goblins acted as if she didn’t exist and allowed her to slip into the frays of the camp.

Gingerly, she sniffed her skin and almost recoiled as the pungent smell of alcohol filled her nostrils, not to mention the metallic scent of blood mixed in which almost made her nauseous. As much as she hated to admit it, perhaps being swirled around inside Astarion’s mouth hadn’t been all for waste as she smelled nothing like her usual self.

As much as I hate this, at least this means that the goblins won’t notice me, she thought bitterly to herself, longing for nothing more than a nice warm soak to scrub away the scent of blood and beer out of her skin, and the remaining traces of Astarion’s saliva.

As she ventured further into the inner dwellings of the camp, she realised that she had utterly no idea where Minthara was, or what she even looked like. As the realisation dawned on her, more thunderous footsteps shook the ground violently and she quickly pressed her back against a wall and held her breath.

Gods, this was not a good idea…why did I ever think this was a good idea?

“Our ladyship Minthara wishes to speak with you,” One of the goblins that walked past Ria grumbled, pointing at a different goblin with a brown hood over his head. “She said somethin’ about your scouting party not returnin’ yet.”

The goblin with the hood visibly stiffened, fear flickering across his eyes. “O-oh, right, thanks for that. I will go see her ladyship immediately.”

This was her chance. If she followed the hooded goblin, she would find Minthara. Once the coast was clear, she lunged forward to the hooded goblin and grasped onto his leather boots. As she clung on for dear life, she forced herself not to gasp as the goblin began to move, completely oblivious to the tiny hitchhiker on his shoes. The movement was staggering and her vision quickly became a blurred mess as the goblin stepped forward. Everything moved at such a frightening rate and it caused her stomach to lurch with each thundering footfall that the goblin took, sending rattling vibrations throughout her entire body as his foot collided with the stone floor. She hoped that the goblin didn’t have to walk far to reach Minthara, she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take without emptying the contents of her stomach.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long for the goblin to reach his destination. He finally stopped moving, his feet now at a standstill, which allowed Ria to catch her breath and force herself not to hurl. Her vision was blurry due to moving around on the goblin’s boot, and she couldn’t quite make out where she was as everything was spinning around her. While she couldn’t see very well currently, she could hear some loud voices coming from above.

“Your scouting party has not returned, and half of the intruders escaped your guards!” A raspy, feminine voice punctured through Ria’s eardrums as she clung to the goblin’s boot.

Is that Minthara?

“Sorry, Mistress,” the goblin replied. “We mucked up.”

Ria’s head had finally stopped spinning, and she quickly jumped off the goblin’s boot and dashed behind one of the many war drums that were scattered around the room. Chest heaving, she anxiously glanced upwards and saw a female drow looming over the hooded goblin, her face cold and full of rage.

That’s Minthara.

“Until their sanctuary is found, I will take something precious from you every hour that passes,” Minthara continued, her gaze as cold as ice as she glared at the goblin before her. “A trinket…a tongue…a limb.” Minthara said the final word with such an intensity it sent chills up Ria’s spine, and she was quickly starting to regret her decision for coming here by herself.

No, I’m here now, I must go through with this, she thought to herself, shaking away her clouded thoughts of doubt and returned her attention back to the goblin and the drow. She decided it was best to remain hidden for the time being, or at least until Minthara had cooled off.

“I ain’t no use without me limbs,” the goblin quickly retorted, his frame shrinking back as the drow leered over him threateningly. “The lads’ll make the prisoners squeal soon enough; I swear!”

“Silence now, creature. Or I will silence you forever.” Minthara’s words were scathing, and the goblin flinched back in fear as she glowered at him fiercely.

“Be gone, unless you want me to start removing those limbs of yours,” the drow hissed.

“Y-yes, of course your ladyship.” The goblin frantically hurried out of room, his footsteps sending off small tremors throughout the ground as he scrambled away.

Minthara heaved a rather exasperated sigh, massaging her fingers across her temple.

“If only I had been given drow warriors not pathetic goblin trash,” Minthara muttered under her breath, her lips pressing into a thin line as she sat down on a nearby chair and hunched over a stone table.

A moment of silence passed, Minthara seemingly absorbed in the parchment of paper that was on top of the table, and Ria steadied her breathing as she tried to think of what to do next. How in the hells was she meant to approach the drow? And if she did, just what exactly was she going to say? How would Minthara even react to her? Minthara certainly didn’t strike her as a kind person, and she hated to think how she would react to finding a borrower sneaking through the camp. A sinking feeling of dread began to fester in the pit of her stomach as she realised just how stupid she was for coming here alone. In the heat of the moment, she had abandoned all logic, only thinking about how far away she wanted to get away from Astarion. But in doing so, she had placed herself in an incredibly dangerous situation. Now she wasn’t sure how she was going to proceed. At least her scent was disguised for the time being, so perhaps there was a way she could leave the room undetected.

Gods, why did I leave Astarion?! He was my only protection!

She chewed on her bottom lip in frustration and scanned the room intently. There had to be some small crack in the wall that she could slip into, or some kind of hole she could hide in for the time being until she could think of a better solution. In her current spot behind the war drum, she was too exposed, it wouldn’t take much for a goblin or the drow to glance down and find her there. She had to get out of there quickly, before Minthara finished whatever she was drawing up on the stone table and looked in her direction. In the corner of her eye, Ria suddenly spotted a small crack in the wall, big enough that she would be able to fit into it without a problem. The only thing was, it meant that she would have to pass under Minthara’s table to reach it.

Ria inhaled a rather shaky breath as beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. She could do this. Passing by larger folk was something all borrowers were good at to survive, but she knew if she messed this up, it could mean dire consequences for her. She had to be perfectly quiet if she wanted to get out of the Goblin Camp alive. Without a second more of hesitation, she sprinted towards the stone table and quickly dashed underneath it. Minthara didn’t move a muscle, completely unaware of the tiny borrower that was currently right under her nose. Swallowing back the fear forming in her throat, she sneaked around Minthara’s metallic boots, being extremely careful not to accidentally bump into them. Her exit out of the camp was rapidly getting closer with each tiny footstep that she took, still being extremely careful, and her blood pounded harshly in her eardrums.

That’s it…just keep on going.

The scraping sound of metal against stone filled her eardrums, snapping her neck to look over her shoulder to see what the noise was, and a scream nearly jumped out of her throat as she saw Minthara’s boot swing towards her. Everything happened so quickly, she didn’t even have time to react as Minthara’s boot collided into her tiny frame, sending her spiralling out from underneath the stone table and into the open.

“What in the name of the Absolute?” Minthara’s voice thundered from above, her footsteps sending off tiny earthquakes through the floor.

Ria winced in pain, every inch of her body screaming in agony, the very wind had been knocked right out of her lungs as she gasped for oxygen. She attempted to climb to her feet, but her body refused to move. Instead, she was met with searing pain that flared over her body like fire. Rapidly blinking, she turned her gaze upwards, and saw the glaring face of the drow staring down at her.

“Ah, it seems I have found an intruder.” The air shook with the intensity of Minthara’s voice, and all the colour quickly drained from Ria’s face.

Shit!

Despite the burning pain throughout her little body, Ria forced herself to her feet and made a feeble attempt to run the opposite way.

“Hahaha. You are not getting away from me that quickly, vermin.”

Ria flinched as Minthara’s boot suddenly collided with the ground in front of her, sending a rattling impact throughout the floor that almost sent her flying off her feet. Hastily she scrambled to her feet once more and began to turn to run the other way, but large fingers enclosed around her body and hoisted her up into the air.

Frantically, Ria reached for her dagger, knowing that was the last resort at defending herself. A sinking feeling settled in her gut when she couldn’t feel the blade in its sheath.

My dagger…I left it in Astarion’s mouth. I’m so fucking stupid!

“Do my eyes deceive me or am I staring at a borrower?” Minthara mused, her fingers tightening their grip on Ria’s squirming body as she wrestled in the drow’s hand. “I haven’t seen your kind for quite some time. I thought you had all been killed like the insects you are.”

“Let go of me!” Ria yelled, her stomach churning with fear, but she held her gaze firmly on the giant drow. “I-I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

The drow stared at the borrower quizzically, her red eyes narrowing. “I find it extremely unusual for a borrower to willingly walk into a Goblin Camp, do you have a death wish little creature?” She paused, her gaze scrutinising Ria like some kind of specimen in a lab. “I know there’s more than what you’re telling me.”

Ria exhaled deeply, attempting to calm her nerves. She was here now; she might as well do what she came here for.

“I’ve heard that you know some things about borrowers being traded for their blood,” Ria said firmly. “Apparently you were involved in it. I want to know why it’s happened, and if it’s still happening now.” She swallowed audibly, staring into the drow’s red gaze. “Please tell me all that you know.”

The drow’s red eyes widened before she threw back her head and laughed rather menacingly.

“Oh, this is just divine. A borrower who is not aware of the properties of their own blood? I couldn’t think of anything funnier than that.”

A wicked grin spread across the drow’s face, sending a deathly chill down Ria’s spine.

“Please! You must tell me!” Ria pleaded, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest as she locked her gaze with the drow. “I…I really have no idea. I need to know.”

“Is that so?” Minthara smiled, arching one brow. “And what, exactly, do you plan to do if I provide you this information?”

Ria’s mouth parted open, but no words fell from her lips. Just what was she going to do when she found out? It would answer a lot of questions she had, but, if borrowers were being traded for their blood, what exactly could she do about it? Was she hoping to save the borrowers that had been traded for their blood? By herself, it was impossible. But perhaps with her new friends, maybe they would help her. Either way, even if she couldn’t do anything about it, she had to know that she wasn’t the last borrower. There had to be more of her kind out there, she refused to believe otherwise. And, if she found more borrowers, perhaps she could join their colony and finally live with her own kind.

“Going awfully quiet now, aren’t you?” Minthara’s gravelly voice rumbled through the air, her gaze hardening. “No matter, you’re lucky I find it so pitiful that you are so incredibly ignorant.” Her grip on the borrower tightened, almost crushing Ria in her slender fingers and she cried out in pain.

“I used to catch the odd borrower and trade them to a drow who was a daughter of the fallen House Oblodra,” Minthara said. “She now resides in Moonrise Towers. I haven’t come across a borrower in years, until you came along.”

A deep cackle resonated in Minthara’s throat as she watched Ria continue to thrash in her grip. “And I believe she will be most pleased to find such a fine specimen like this. Your blood will fetch a lot of gold for me.”

Ria’s face paled, her tiny hands growing cold and clammy. The drow was going to sell her off for her blood, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop her. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do as her heart threatened to burst out of her ribcage. The only thing she could do was stall Minthara – keep her talking in hopes that maybe, just maybe, Astarion or Gale and the others happened to show up, but it was unlikely. Astarion being the one to save her seemed very slim considering his disdain towards her. But she had to do something in the meantime, whether someone came to her rescue or not, at least until she could think of a better option. And there were plenty of questions she needed to ask the drow.

“Why is borrower blood so sought after?” Ria questioned genuinely.

Minthara’s eyes widened and she stifled another cackle. “Oh, this is hilarious. You truly are an ignorant little worm.” The drow leaned over her stone table and roughly tossed Ria onto the hard surface, sending her tumbling across the stone.

“Borrower blood is rife with magic, thanks to your fickle Fey ancestry,” Minthara said, looming over Ria’s tiny frame upon the stone table. “Vampires seem to be intoxicated as soon as they get a taste of it. They easily become addicted, as if it’s like a drug to them. They also happen to pay a lot of gold to have it in large amounts, which is why blood merchants will pay a high price to obtain borrowers to sell to their vampire clients.”

“W-what?” Ria croaked, her face falling upon hearing the words fall from the drow’s mouth, her brain attempting to process what she was saying. “You…you can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I am joking?” Minthara growled, causing Ria to flinch from the intensity in her loud voice. “I know many jokes, little rat, but I can assure you I am deadly serious. Is this too much for your miniscule brain to handle?”

The entire room began to spin as Ria’s body rapidly grew numb. No, this couldn’t be true. The drow’s words echoed in her brain, rattling her very core, refusing to let her be told anything else. Her tiny body trembled as a crushing sadness washed over her, sending her buckling to her knees as her body could no longer support her own weight. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but no sound could be mustered from her lips. She remained almost frozen on the stone table, her mind racing as she pieced everything together.

Is…is that why I haven’t seen another borrower for ten years? Is that why Mum and Dad never returned home all those years ago? Were they all taken to be sold off to blood merchants?

“I see this information has been quite the revelation for you, to say the least,” Minthara’s rumbling voice jolted Ria to her senses. “As amusing as it is watching you fall apart, it is time for you to be put in a cage.”

Ria stiffened. “A what?”

A rusty, metal bird cage was placed on top of the table right across from where Ria was kneeling. Minthara opened the door to the cage as a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“When I caught borrowers more frequently, this is how I contained them.” The drow lunged forward with outstretched fingers and squeezed Ria into her fist. “Fortunately for you, I never got rid of it.”

“No!” Ria shrieked as Minthara tossed her into the cage as if she were nothing.

The door locked shut and Ria felt her stomach sink to the floor. Scrambling to her feet, she rushed to the bars of the cage and rattled them with every ounce of strength she had left.

“Let me out!” she cried at the top of her lungs. “Please, you’re making a very big mistake!”

Minthara cackled, her laugh sending vibrations through the air that shook her bones to her very core.

“Oh, I think I’m doing quite the opposite.” Minthara held the cage up to her face, consuming all of Ria’s vision as she sneered at the borrower. “Araj will be most pleased when I give you to her.”

A cold sweat trickled down Ria’s neck as tears pricked her eyelids. She was completely helpless and there was nothing she could do to stop Minthara. Oh, how stupid she had been to come here alone.

Why did I have to be so foolish…

Tears welled up, blurring her vision as a mixture of emotions coursed through her body. Fear, sadness, resentment, but most prominently out of all the emotions that swirled inside her brain, anger began to burn as brightly as the sun.

This isn’t fair! THIS ISN’T FAIR!

Her entire body went rigid as a surge of heat flooded her senses. It almost felt as if electricity was beginning to fly from her fingertips as she allowed the emotion to take a hold of her. Suddenly, a blue light began to emit from Ria’s chest and quickly spread to the rest of her body. Her body felt charged, as if she was going to burst at any moment.

“What are you doing?” Minthara snapped, bewilderment spread across her face as she stared at the borrower inside the cage.

“I’m not letting you take me!” Ria shouted fiercely, sparks literally flying as a bolt of electricity shot straight out of her fingertips and directly onto Minthara’s astonished face.

Minthara yelled in surprise as the bolt of electricity hit her directly in the face and she dropped Ria’s cage in shock. She was now falling, everything a hazy blur, until the cage slammed into the hard floor below. The impact from the floor sent the cage door flying open, and as soon as Ria had gathered her senses, she leaped out without a moment’s hesitation. Rather breathlessly she scurried away from the towering drow, her body screaming in pain, and made a mad dash towards the large bridge that was laid out across the room.

“You insolent little pest!” Minthara’s voice bellowed like thunder from above, her large footfalls sending convulsions through the stony ground.

Ria had no idea how she had summoned the bolt of electricity, but it had provided her with an opportunity to escape, and if she didn’t act quickly, she would be in the drow’s clutches once more. She sprinted as fast as her small legs could carry her, adrenaline blazing through her body as she forced herself to keep moving forward. But her movements were no match for the drow. Minthara’s hand swooped down from above and crushed Ria in her vice-like grip once more.

“I should break you for such abhorrent behaviour,” Minthara snarled, her white hair frazzled and sticking out in places from where Ria had hit her with electricity. “You are lucky that you are more valuable to me alive.”

Out of desperation, Ria attempted to summon the electricity once more, but she was met with nothing. The feeling had vanished just as soon as it had taken a hold of her.

“N-no!” she cried out, tears running down her face as she squirmed in Minthara’s fist.

“Cease your whining,” Minthara hissed, reaching down to grab the cage from the floor. “Your kind are so utterly pathetic.”

Ria screamed as loud as she could, tears streaming down her face, but it made no difference. She was going to be traded off to some blood merchant and then most likely be consumed by some vampire.

“Silence!” Minthara snarled, her red stare furious. “Or I will-”

Minthara didn’t even get to finish her sentence as an arrow shot straight through her chest, causing her to stagger backwards from the sudden impact.

The drow’s eyes went wide with fear as she stared at the arrow now protruding out of her armour. Crimson began to leak out of the wound and she coughed out a splatter of blood.

“W-what-” Minthara wheezed as her fingers loosened their grip on the borrower, allowing her to drop to the ground.

No words managed to form on Ria’s lips as her body was now falling through the air, everything passing by in slow motion as she made her gruelling descent towards the hard floor. Just before everything went black, she saw a very familiar pale elf drive a dagger through Minthara’s chest.

She let the darkness take hold of her as everything faded away. Taglist: @rose7420 @empressxmachina @taters169 @smolgloves @smolkuriboh27 @alexcutecolly (if anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please feel free to dm me!)

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secret-smut-sideblog · 10 months ago

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A Dangerous Thing

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ violence, possession, near death, implied self harm, bhaal being fucked up, injuries, fear, hurt/comfort, fingering (f!), oral (f!), sub/dom, (mild) restraint, overstimulation

Almost losing her to Bhaal's influence, Astarion wont let her out of his sight again...

In trance he becomes aware of an absence at his side, her divine warmth missing.

"Darling?" He mumbled, fingers searching for her. A breeze on his cheek.

Eyes flashing open to the chasm of his tent door.

Gone.

Scrambling to feet he lunged out into the night, eyes frantic.

It was getting bad, he knew. Saw the way she would freeze, muscles clenching all at once. Paralyzed as she fought for control.

Would do his best to touch her with love, speak reassured to her rigid body. Help her back into herself, though he didnt know how much good it was doing.

We're close. She had sighed. The temple is near, I can feel it. Shuddered. I feel it everywhere.

Fuck. Fuck. He ran tent to tent, looking for those pale horns, those haunting eyes.

He had gotten sloppy, losing focus. Gods why did she put him in charge?!

"Whoa, Fangs! What's going on?" Karlach called, already pulling her boots on seeing the panic in his face.

"She's gone! Hells we have to find her!" He shouted, hands shaking. Eyes everywhere, in every shadow, every space between.

"Shit!" She went to wake the others, sounding out like an alarm.

Finally he saw a sign of her. Sharp footsteps leading into the forest, the heels deep in the mud. She had been running.

No time, he sprinted after her ghost. Calling out her name in big gulping shouts. Heard the others following behind.

I think if I couldn't control it anymore. She had whispered, their hands intertwined. Laying in blissful quiet. I'd end it. Said with such certainty, eyes resolute. It would be my last offering for the world. To stop myself. To leave it untouched.

He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not when she has given him so much. Not before he can tell her he loves her one more time.

Gods let him have this, this one bright beautiful thing.

He gasped out her name when he spotted her silhouette in a clearing. Sitting on knees in the dark.

His voice curdled in his throat as he drew closer, took in the full sight.

Her arms laying limp at her side, face wrenched up to the sky. Bhaal's red lights dancing sickening circles around the crown of her head. Eyes blown wide, glowing red hot.

"Here!" He shouted shakenly to the others somewhere behind, hovering around her. "She's here!"

Terrified into indecision. Hands reaching out, he had to do something.

"Get out!" Her jaw clenching down so hard he thought it would crack. He jumped back, breath caught.

"You are not welcome here. You are not me. You are not in charge." She hissed through her teeth, speaking to something unseen, rage dripping from every word.

"I guided your hand when you spilled your first blood." A deep nauseating voice erupted from her mouth, forming words with her lips. "I have always been here. I am all of you. I am eternal."

Her face going slack into a sickening smile. "You will to say yes to me, child."

Eyes clenching shut, face twisting, pulling back into her mind. "Fuck. You." Her voice venomous.

Lifted invisible by her throat she hovered in the air, legs slack beneath her. Feet grazing the ground. Sigils burning and whipping angry around her.

"I love you." Lashes emerging across her torso. "I love you." Cracking of ribs. "I love you." Arm wrenched from socket, flopping down at her side.

"Stop," Astarion breathed, despair flooding his vision. "Stop, stop, stop!" A rising scream chanted.

Her head lolling puppeteered to look at him. Eyes wide, all radiating crimson. A horrible smile smeared across her angelic face.

"The interloper..." It sneered in her features, amused. "Tell me, little waste..." Turning her in one motion to face him, hovering far higher above the ground. Her full body weight on her throat. Yet it still it spoke.

"Do you really think you can stop her?" Leaning her head down to stare condescending into him. "How long do you think she will resist her call? To deny her birthright?"

"I molded her myself, my body, my blood. She will heed to me."

"You're just another master, another piece of shit that needs control. You dont impress me." He spat. "I've killed one of you before, and I'll enjoy doing it again."

It laughed, booming. Lifting her arms wide, sigils spinning hurricane around her.

He heard the others coming up hot behind him, a flurry of noise. Spells, arrows, enchantments soaring through the air. All hitting mute against the cyclone. It cackled, delighted at their attempts.

Suddenly she wrenched back to the surface, body twisting. "Get away! Go!" Her desperate eyes reaching his. "I can finish this!"

"No!" He bellowed, enraged. "Let us help you! For once let us be the strong ones!" Bloody tears streaming down his shouting face.

Her eyes crumpled at his words and something in the hold broke.

In a piercing wail she fought against her restraints, hair whipping around her head. Pulling her limbs with incredible force against its control. Balling into herself. Releasing them out in a deafening scream. An explosion of force leaving her, pushing them all to their knees.

Prone, he watched her fall. Thudding silent to the ground. "No, no," He begged, crawling to her unmoving body. "Dont leave. Dont leave me."

Cradling her head he stared through thick water. Searching. Desperate. Hands coaxing, pleading, for her to come back.

Shadowheart, Halsin, and Minthara appearing quick at her side, pummeling healing words into her. Lighting her up in waves of blue.

"You can't go. I wont let you." He gripped her as they shouted around him, his tears dropping onto her mottled bruised neck. "I will search every corner of the afterlife and drag you back to us."

Giving it everything she had Shadowheart shouted one last spell, her hands bracing against her still chest.

Silence. Then with a heaving, gasping cough she returned. Hand instinctively finding his cheek.

A deep wail left him, pulling her into him, inconsolable. Body shaking with great heaving sobs of relief.

"Ow." She laughed wetly. Good arm shakily holding him. Eyes bright, meeting the tear stained faces that surrounded them through the window of his shoulder. "Hi everyone."

They all rushed around her, touching her, hugging her, voices all melding into one joyful choir. Still gripping her to his body they held him too.

Karlach planting big kisses on her face. Even planting a quick softer one on his forehead. "Welcome back, soldier!" She boomed. "Dont ever do that shit again!" Yelled with the same smile.

She laughed painfully, clenching her side. "Fuck, okay. You've convinced me."

"We need to get her back to camp." Shadowheart gently squeezed Astarion's shoulder. He agreed but still had his face buried into her. Tremoring.

"Let me lend some aid." Halsin smiled, offering his arms. Waiting for Astarion to release.

Loathe to let her go but knew he wouldn't be able to carry her in this state he nodded.

The druid lifting her gently into his arms she was absent from him. She gave a little sigh into the wide chest. He trailed close, never taking his eyes off her.

She smiled gently at him, reaching out for him. Finding his fingers in hers. Gods, she was cold.

He kissed them, pressing them against his cheek.

"You're okay to sleep, love." She hushed, trailing her hand down his back. "I can get one of the others."

In her tent, made into a makeshift infirmary he shook his head. Only last night she had nearly been lost and his body was still vibrating with anxious energy. Trying not to pace.

"We've moved camp, we're far enough away from the temple now." She tried to reassure. He waved her away, back still turned.

Her hand stopped on his back. Quiet. Still.

"I'm sorry I'm the one you love." A whisper.

He whipped his head, angry. The tears on his face that he had been trying to hide from her laid bare.

"No. No you dont get to do that." Eyes alight in equal parts adoration and indignation. "I have been broken apart countless times and you are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me. The only person who could ever understand me."

Face twisting in grief, in determination. "I have waited lifetimes for you. How dare you apologize."

Catching the light her tears slipped quiet out of her eyes. Even in this state unbelievably beautiful, always catching him off guard. Neck still patches of green, purple, yellow. Arm slung snugly in a sling. One tip of her horns now notched, caught in her fall. He trailed his hand along it tenderly, never to be the same again.

"I'm sorry." She choked, hearing the heavy catch in her throat.

"Stop." He stared hard into her eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

He pulled her hard into his body. Burying his face in her hair. "I love you. I love you. I love you so much." He pressed his words into her.

"I will never regret you. I will never have something like this again. Even in a hundred years I will never stop thinking of you."

A sob wracked her chest, shaking into him. One arm gripping his shirt. Releasing her grief, her fear into his cool body.

He stroked her hair, wrapping his legs around her lower back. Pulling her fully into him. Yes, let it out.

They stayed like that for a moment, hands anchoring eachother. Her waves of sorrow striking his chest. Breathing in, out.

"When I die I'm haunting your ass so hard." She whispered raggedly, her tears finally slowing. He laughed, wiping his own wet face.

"I'd be offended if you didnt, my sweet."

Pulling back to look at him, eyes overflowing with love. "Ow, damn it." Readjusting her arm in its sling as she shifted. "How long did Shadowheart say this should take again?" She huffed. He tried to hide his smile.

"What's the point of healing magic if it doesn't get the job done..." Grumbling her frustration.

"Already thinking about the next task? Gods you're relentless." He teased.

"We have things to do!"

"Oh how could you possibly take a break, the torment you must endure." He admonished, trailing kisses along her face.

She giggled, the sound lighting up his heart. Caught her sweet mouth in a kiss. Slow. Deep.

She moaned lightly into him, hand cupping the back of his head. Pulling him in deeper.

He sighed contentedly, so glad to do this again. That they had more time. More time for him to get lost in her.

Her hand pulling the ties of his tunic.

"Wait," He breathed, to her discontented whine. Hand still trying to pull him open.

Threading his fingers in hers, he pulled away. "My sweet, slow down." Took her eyes in his. Her mouth slightly swollen from their kiss making him stifle a groan, despite himself.

"You're in no state-"

"Then be gentle." She countered.

"Darling..." He started, unsure.

"Please," She whispered, pushing her forehead into his. Threaded fingers tightening on his. "I need you, I need this."

Gentle, he thought. Gods did he know how to fuck gentle? Had he? Maybe some time in the past, long before.

Could see the nervousness in her eyes as well, asked for entrance to her mind.

She obliged, and he found their thoughts mingling. Not the exact same, but rhyming. Fear. Longing. Love. Pain. Things lost. Things terrified to be found.

He smiled warmly, pulling her back into his kiss. I told you. He spoke to her.

What? She thought.

You and I know eachother. I see you, you see me. See me so clearly.

So is that a yes? Could feel her cheeky smile against his lips.

He sighed, defeated. Trying not to prove his rising arousal as she gave a little squeal of triumph.

Now, how to do this delicately. He pushed them forward, laying her down onto her back. Hand bracing her slow descent. Though he focused on undressing her as softly as he could, his kiss was searing.

Her hand pulled his shirt hard over his head, he maneuvered his arms to assist her. Her leg hooking up under his, pushing it out to be straddling over her.

"Oh so only I have to be gentle..."

"Do you want me to be?" She rumbled in his ear, sending a shudder down his spine.

"Gods no,"

Pulling the last of her clothes off he stared down at her, breath taken. Both by her beauty and the state of her body.

Criss cross slashes stretching across her torso, sewn deftly closed. Bruises that veiled over her ribs. Could see the discoloration between the tight bandages holding her shoulder.

Trying not to be overcome again, he leaned down, ghosting soft kisses over her angry skin.

"You'll tell me if we need to stop, yes?" He urged.

She smiled down at him, carding her fingers through his hair. "Of course, my love."

Satisfied he continued his feather light lips down her front.

"How are you so beautiful?" He marveled.

Delighted in the blush that crept up to her cheeks. To make a bhaalspawn blush, his bhaalspawn.

"Darling this position you've so graciously put me in gives me an idea." He mused, absentmindedly swirling little circles on her clit. One leg over her hip, one between her thighs. He stood up on knees, getting a better feel. Oh this could work.

"Good thing your lower extremities are unscathed, sweet thing." Grabbing a pillow he lifted her by one plush thigh and pushed it under her hips. Heard her little aroused groan at being manhandled. "Yes this will do nicely." He preened, now had the perfect angle.

"I never doubted you for a second." She tried for teasing but couldn't hide the lust in her voice.

His free hand dragging soft up and down her entrance, joining his fingers already worshipping her hard mound. Hands busy he had the perfect view to watch her unwind under him.

Her head fell back, arching slightly. Horns digging against the pillow.

He slowly inserted two digits into her, shallowly pumping. The angle perfect to go as far as he could, but not yet. Just teasing her entrance. Fingers on her clit pushing more force. Her little gasping breaths goading him on.

Started pushing inside her with earnest, fingers curling in the way he knew made her mewl. Hand on her clit feather light.

Alternating his force back and forth between his two hands he could tell he was driving her mad. Slick already dripping down under his fingers.

"Astarion," She groaned, hand gripping the sheet.

"I'm all pointy ears, darling." He teased, switching hands again just to make her gasp.

"Gods, please fuck me already." She panted, looking into his eyes.

"Ah, but we need to be careful." He purred, smiling like a fox cornering a hen. "Nothing too strenuous, you know. Gotta make sure you're-" Both hands with pressure, her eyes rolling back in her head. "Up to it." He finished.

"You know I can kill you, right?"

"Oh we're doing threats now," He hissed, smiling down over her. "How rude."

Both hands working in a blur she was an incoherent writhing mess. Hips trying to get away. He sat his weight on her side, pinning her there. "Oh come on now, I know you can take it."

He knew she was so close to being undone as he watched. Her hot panting groans getting more frantic, higher. Hips squirming helplessly under him.

Leaning over he looked into her eyes. "I want you to come all over my hand."

Her eyes went wide then squeezed shut. Face contorting in anguished pleasure. Clenching down hard on his fingers she wailed an esctastic cry. Hips jutting up into his body, hiking him up. Shocked by the strength of her.

Moving down quickly he pushed his mouth into her, tongue working rapidly. Taking up the pace of his fingers.

She almost screamed, hand gripping his hair.

Wrapping his arms around her retreating thighs he ravaged. Groaning into her, already so much creamy slick pushing out of her. All for him.

Already on the cusp of a second orgasm he watched her through her spread legs. Suckling down hard on her clit, merciless.

"Oh gods, oh fuck," She whimpered, head craning back. Pelvis shaking.

So perfect, you taste so sweet. He thought to her, connecting their minds. Honeysuckle... Groaning into her.

Her mouth falling open in a silent scream, eyes hitching. Seizing under his mouth, head lolling. Her body an arched bridge. Sharp talons leaving his hair and ripping into the sheet.

He palmed over her overstimulated core as she collapsed, knew his cool hand would bring relief. Kissing softly below her navel. Her body still trembling, breath regaining from the drown of her pleasure.

"If I wasnt already in the infirmary.." She breathed when she found her words again.

He laughed, sliding in next to her. Adjusting her slightly so he could slot under her. Wrapping his leg around her side, straddled behind her.

She fell back into his chest, already spent.

"Damn, maybe I'm not as ready as I thought I was." She laughed, threading her hand into his.

"Told you." He murmured into her hair. Pulling their joined hands to his lips.

She got quiet for a moment, knocking her head gently into his.

"I'm going to get better, I promise." Speaking on more than her injuries.

"I know, my sweet girl."

Part 5

#this one got away from me ngl #possession scene Heavily inspired by ptolemaea by ethel cain (lyrics from it too)#astarion smut #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav

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