#and this could have been way longer but i had to cONTROL myself

[aversiteespabilas]

I love this analysis!! This twisted, nuanced relationship with the Arcane as an entity and the way they explore the concept of power and agency is definitely the highlight of Season 2 for me.

I hadn't thought about the comparison to LOTR (probably because I'm not the biggest LOTR acolyte myself), but one of the childhood conversations I most fondly and vividly remember with my dad, who is a HUGE LOTR fan (even named me after Samwise's daughter in the book-), was precisely about the One Ring, and I was immediately reminded of it. I must have been 13 or so, and I had just watched the first movie with him for the first time, and I told him "I just don't understand what it is about the Ring that's inherently able to corrupt a good man's mind SO badly, like, it's literally just a ring that makes you invisible, and that's only if you decide to put it on. You might as well have a superhero use invisibility for good, at the end of the day it's just an object that gives you power."

And thinking back on it, I really appreciate that my dad didn't decide to dismiss my point with a cheap "well, the Ring can mind-control people too", and call it a day, because perhaps he decided to take the chance to make it a lesson for me, and it might sound silly but his answer REALLY stuck with me to this day. He said "What would you do, if you could suddenly make yourself invisible? What would be your very first thought, if you knew you could get away with anything and not be held accountable, remain unseen? What kind of deeds would you prefer remained unacknowledged: the good ones, or the ones you know deep down are not-so-good?" And that was, I think, one of my most poignant moments of going "Oh, this fantasy story is maing a point about a very real thing" and I'm pretty sure managed to make my understanding of fantasy media all the more mature and nuanced from then on. The One Ring isn't evil because it "plants" evil thoughts "in" you, it's evil because you already HAVE not-so-good thoughts and it has the POWER that would allow you to carry them out. Then all of a sudden, it is no longer a situation where you're helpless against the Ring's "mind powers", but a question of whether the strength of your morals would or would not overcome the Ring's strength. It is also suddenly a thousand times scarier, because it forces you to face the fact that there's a version of you, hidden in there, that could be the stuff of nightmares and it's only a ring's usage away. It humbles you, in a way. And that's something you can also see them exploring in Arcane with Hextech and the other multiple sources of superhuman power that feature in the show. Is the Arcane entity mind-controlling people? Well... yes. But also not exactly. Not the way you think mind-control works. Do the characters have full agency? Well, yes they do. But they don't fully understand the power they're holding. And after all, if Hextech allows you to go the easy and convenient route to getting what you most desire, wouldn't you take it too, if you didn't know there'd be consequences?

You know, it's probably ridiculous to assume that Viktor is being somehow mind controlled by the Hexcore in S2 of Arcane. Obviously his actions are entirely his own, right?

After all, mind control plotlines can be a tricky to pull off and when it's employed, creators tend to put a lot of signposts in to let you know what's really happening and how the character isn't themselves anymore.

For example, creators might do things like... having the character's eye color suddenly change, since eyes are the windows to the soul.

Or... creators might indicate that the character's voice has changed somehow, to indicate that another will is acting through them and they're not entirely themselves anymore.

Certainly one really common trope in mind control plotlines is the mind-controlled character is hearing some kind of voice in their head telling them what to do, or seeing someone that isn't there who guides them or controls them.

Certainly in a pinch, if you really want to drive home that a character has been mind controlled and hasn't been themselves, you'd make it pretty obvious by having them be horrified by what they've done once the mind control wears off!

Bonus points if their eyes revert back to their natural color and any other signs of a different voice or appearance go away once the mind control is finally lifted! That way it's definitely clear that they've been set free from whatever influence was upon them.

But seriously, without these sorts of really glaring signposts we can't really be sure if a mind control plotline was intended at all!

(Tongue-in-cheek aside, I actually love the subtlety of how Arcane executed the Hexcorized Viktor plotline, and I love how much ambiguity remains. But for anyone who thinks he was totally in control, I mean, come on guys. When I started going down the list of all the things film and tv usually does to signal a mind control plot I literally burst out laughing when I realized how many of them Arcane had hidden in plain sight.)

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent things and such~

[scattered-winter]

its wild just realizing how much people have done and experienced and how prepared they are for what's to come when i am . very much not . lmao

[tails-is-cool]

Friendly reminder that this applies in situations where you have a choice. I think this could reach some people in the wrong way.

If, say, your communication partner constantly makes themself the victim (e.g. "you always blame me," "so it's my fault?", refusing to elaborate on their side of the story just to make things difficult (it can be valid depending on the situation, like if it's an emotional subject, since they also have their boundaries), etc.)

Or: makes you feel bad every time you try to communicate (e.g. yells, stomps, slams doors, talks about how stupid or not understandable you are very loudly where they know you can hear, etc.),

Or: they've had a history of (trying to) hurt people when they attempt to reason with them, you are not obligated to do so.

You are not obligated to do anything that could potentially be harmful to your mental or physical health.

(Unfortunately, dealing with children or teenagers can also result in some of these occurrences. In my personal experience, all of these behaviors came from an adult who really should have known better.)

However, avoiding communication isn't healthy, and communication is important. Both sides need to be addressed, and misunderstandings can happen. The important thing is to try, be respectful, be respected, and just get it over with as efficiently and thoroughly as possible.

Lack of communication can hurt your relationships so, so much. It can build up over the years and eventually fester into something worse. Maybe you might be the one aggressively saying things about someone who doesn't deserve it because of miscommunication. Maybe you will be an abuser. Maybe you won't be. Maybe you will communicate well and learn and get better, and maybe you will have good and healthy relationships.

But that doesn't happen if no one tries. It might as well start with you.

Your "non-confrontational" choices not to communicate hurt the people you don't confront btw. You're not a martyr for keeping everything inside and then running away when other people don't know what's going on with you. You just decided avoiding rejection and sparing your own feelings was easier than being honest and giving them the agency to respond and make their own decisions. You chose to hurt them so they didn't hurt you. You think your feelings are realer and more important than their own care and love for you. You were always just waiting for a sign to run.

"If they cared about me they would have–" did you tell them that? Did you let them know how you feel? How much importance you place on those requirements they don't know they have to meet? This secret criteria and secret signs for your secret feelings? Or are you making them play a game they don't know even exists?

Your choice not to communicate isn't cute. You didn't run because they didn't feel the same for you. You ran so you wouldn't have to risk rejection. You chose to prioritise your own self-protection over their trust in and love for you. At least own that.

[kingkat12]

you're my drug (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, sexual imagery, foul language, mentions of drugs/tobacco

summary: after you got caught making out with Eric at rehab, everything suddenly spirals into something much deeper

word count: 5,022 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part two of draw you! enjoy!!<3

As I stood in the courtyard, kicking some rocks along during my lap around the premises, I couldn't help but wonder when I would see Eric again. It had been a week since we were caught making out in his room, and I had just gotten out of a two-day solitary confinement— it was definitely a harsher punishment than expected. Then again, I should've known; this place was an absolute shithole. 

The worst part of the ordeal was having to write down my feelings and get another check from the warden, along with questions about whether or not I was a nymphomaniac. Excuse me?

Had Eric gotten a harsher repercussion than me? Maybe he had been moved to a different rehabilitation center? I didn't want to think about it. Again, I shouldn't be worrying about a stranger I barely knew. It was a little reckless of me to care for someone who had drawn me naked— now that I wasn't in a state of arousal, it dawned on me how creepy that actually was.

But then again... I had been the one to jump him. That was on me. Had I not offered up, I wouldn't feel so attached to him. 

... Maybe I was a nymphomaniac? Fuck.

So when I eventually lost track of where I had kicked my stone, I started looking for new ones. And it was during my hunt for entertainment that I eventually spotted a familiar tall figure entering the courtyard. 

Eric's cheeks were more hollow than the last time I had seen him, and I couldn't help the guilt that immediately seeped into my system. He seemed much darker than I remembered, the green in his eyes no longer having that playful shimmer I could spot from far away. However, when he spotted me on his way through the courtyard with a guard by his side, something changed in Eric. The flush in his cheeks returned, his eyes widened, and I could see the faint remnants of the smile that had etched itself into my mind for nights on end. But when he met my gaze, he looked away in a flash-- was he afraid we'd be caught staring at each other again?

I couldn't even control the way I immediately jumped into action as the guards left Eric's side, and I made my way to him with a confident stride. "Well, if it isn't Michelangelo?" I said, approaching with a smile. Seeing him in the flesh again made the tips of my fingers tingle, a certain excitement building in my system. "Where have you been? Did they put you in confinement too?"

But the smile I had seen in him earlier wasn't there anymore-- he turned to me, face blank. Eric blinked twice, watching me as though he didn't know why I was talking to him at all, his nose scrunching up. 

My pulse quickened as my anxiety rose; what was happening? 

"We shouldn't be talking," Eric eventually mumbled, looking away. His green eyes darted towards the guards on duty, wary of their movements. It didn't take long before he started walking away from me, which in turn left me stunned. 

I wondered whether I had said something wrong as I watched him join a few guys that were working out, and I had to take a deep breath to ground myself.  Everything about this made me feel like a complete and utter idiot-- I turned away from Eric, rubbing my temples as I made my way back inside. This was giving me a bigger headache than the ones I would get after coming down from a high.

This definitely felt similar to that; the crushing feeling. Having Eric dismiss me like that after what we had done felt more painful than usual, now that I couldn't dull down my feelings with anything. 

I walked back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Everything about this made my whole body ache, and I couldn't understand why I even cared to this degree. 

Had I been so delusional as to think Eric felt something for me too?

Later that night, I didn't care to come out for the last meal. Something told me I'd be staring at Eric again and that he'd dismiss me once more, and I didn't know if I could take it. I hadn't missed drugs as much as now-- everything about this situation reminded me of how I ended up here in the first place.

As I lay in my bed, hoping to fall asleep and wake up a new woman, I was dragged out of my sleepy state when I heard a light shuffling sound coming from my door. I sat up, rubbing my eyes before my gaze slowly darted towards the commotion. 

There it was. A note?

I went to pick it up, feeling my heart thump hard in my chest in anticipation. The paper was familiar, like rough velvet to my fingers, and the same size as a page from a notebook. The smile that crept up my lips was impossible to suppress-- I turned the paper to see a new drawing of me, made in the same scratchy style as the previous ones I had seen. 

It was an image of me laying in a bed, my eyes hidden in the crook of my arm, lips parted as though I was drawing in a big breath. The pink jumper I was pictured in was a lot bigger than mine; I suspected it was supposed to be Eric's. From the waist down, I was wearing nothing but a black pair of underwear, my legs dangling halfway off the bed. 

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my chest rise as my heart skipped a beat-- it was beautiful. Completely breathtaking. And in the corner to the upper right, there was a scribbled message with boyish writing that was hard to understand;

messy mornings. let's have those someday? xx

My smile only spread, and I let out a shaky breath of relief as I leaned my forehead against my door, pressing the drawing tightly against my chest. The joy that coursed through my veins reminded me of the same euphoric feeling I'd get from doing a certain type of drug-- I wasn't sure whether it was good for me or not to be feeling these things, but I knew I was addicted already. 

Was Eric maybe addicted to me as well? Was the incident in the courtyard just something he did in front of the guards, straying away from trouble?

I couldn't be sure. Nonetheless, I had gotten confirmation that he definitely thought about me too, and that was all I needed.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I could swear it was the same as getting high-- seeing Eric, I mean. It was especially exhilarating knowing he was right in front of me, but that I couldn't say a word to him. 

We were currently in a typical meeting, a group of people sitting in a circle trying to work through why they had started drinking or using. I hated these gatherings the most; I wasn't the biggest fan of airing out my life to strangers. 

But today was different. Eric had joined my group, even though his meeting usually took place later in the evening. I felt the air seep out of my lungs the second I spotted him in the door, watching him with eyes wider than expensive plates of china as he sat down on the chair opposite me in the circle, locking his gaze on me. 

And there he sat, in a casual manspread as he twiddled his thumbs, waiting his turn. His dark mullet had grown out a little, the hair on his forehead inching closer to his eyes with each week he was here. It was easy to get lost when I stared at him for too long, hypnotized by his tall build and his green, green eyes darting right back at me. The smirk playing across his lips mirrored mine, both of us feeling the tension thicken between us despite knowing our minds should be elsewhere at this moment.

I had gotten so swept up with Eric that I nearly jumped out of my chair when my name was called. My eyes frantically ripped themselves off of him, finding the guidance counselor with a confused look. What question was I supposed to answer? 

The counselor cleared her throat; "How are you planning to change your habits once you get out of rehabilitation?"

Oh. I had no idea. Flustered, I ended up shrugging, avoiding Eric's amused gaze. "I think... I might have to work on my impulses. So I guess I will try to make sure I don't give in to bad habits by..." I realized I was completely lost, and it made my cheeks flush. "By doing, uh... Doing breathing exercises?"

My eyes snapped toward the sound that came from the other end of the room-- I watched as Eric clasped a hand over his mouth, head hanging low to hide his blatant amusement. Was that a snort I heard? I had to actively bite back a smile from forming, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip with a force I had never used before.

The counselor cleared her throat, clearly unhappy with the direction this was heading. "Yes, Eric? Do you have anything to say?"

His green eyes darted up from his lap, and it was obvious that he was biting down on the inside of his cheek. Eric crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to himself as though he was thinking. "Well, if you're asking me the same question, I think I plan to surround myself with people I love. I think that's where it went wrong the last time," 

I held my breath-- I hadn't expected him to say that. And I had most certainly not expected Eric's eyes to find me immediately after, realizing his pupils had widened the second they landed on me. 

I didn't try to suppress my smile this time. I let it happen, watching as Eric smiled right back with a shimmer in his eyes. 

Something told me I was actually going to get something good out of group therapy.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... It dawned on me a few days later that I didn't have much time left in rehab. It also happened to dawn on me at the exact moment another drawing slipped under my door, right around the time I was ready to go to bed. 

It was probably the fifth one this week, and I had laid them out neatly on my nightstand. Every image was as beautiful as the last one-- two of me in bed, one of me out in the courtyard again, and one of me during a group session falling asleep on Eric's shoulder. It warmed my heart to think that he had thought about that imagery when we had sat opposite each other a few days ago. Actually, everything about this warmed my heart.

However, today's drawing caught me off-guard. Today, it was a nude one-- deja vu. My eyes locked on the image of me in what looked like Eric's room, gripping his hair as his head was dipped between my legs. One hand was clasped over my chest, and the other one was digging its fingers into my thigh, holding me down. Everything about it made my heart stop, letting out a laboured breath at the sight. 

As always, there was a small message in the upper right corner;

in an alternative universe, there wouldn't be guards outside and there would be no stopping us.  can't wait to taste you xx

My hands gripped the paper, almost to the verge of curling it. It felt as though my body was actively on fire, a need ripping its way through my chest. And it was this exact feeling that had me rushing to put the drawing away before bolting out my door, knowing Eric couldn't have gone too far. 

Thankfully, I had been right. I spotted Eric further down the hall, towering over the people passing him. It was impossible not to notice the tattoos poking up from under his pink jumper, and something about it made my heart race even faster-- I so desperately wanted to see everything. Feel him beneath the pads of my fingertips. 

And I burned. Burned, burned, burned up. And I kept on burning as I sped down the hallway, hearing the loud clacking of my shoes echo through the space along with the thumping of my heart. "Eric!"

Hearing his name, Eric turned around, eyes wide in surprise. "Hey, you," he murmured, brows knitting together as though he was about to scold me. "Thought you were sleeping?"

I finally caught up to him, quickly scanning our surroundings, realizing we were alone. 

"... Are you here to return the drawing?" Eric asked, tilting his head to the side as he scanned the look on my face. A nervous smile spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes flickered around the hallway. "Might've been a little much, sure, but you didn't seem to mind it the last time?--"

His words trailed off as the small hand tugging at his jumper caught his attention. Eric's eyes rounded out, immediately understanding what I was getting at. When he leaned down, I let out a shaky breath before I flung my arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

I had hoped it would satiate the burn ravaging my body, but it didn't. As Eric's big arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, the fire only spread. My hands barely had time to go up into his hair, tugging softly at his dark locks, before he pulled away with an airy chuckle. "You'll get us in trouble again,"

That's true-- "Fuck," was the only thing I managed to say. 

Humming, Eric glanced down the hall before pulling my hand into his, intertwining our fingers as he led me away. I was glad it was almost time for bed, seeing as there were barely any people out in the hallway and the guards were relaxing outside on their cigarette break. A familiar dulling of my brain seeped into my system as I remembered the smell of their cigarettes gliding into my room from outside-- I missed nicotine. But Eric was better than any cigarettes. Better than anything I had ever taken before. No high could match the one I would get from locking eyes with him, getting a drawing under my door, or the feeling currently coursing through my veins as he led me into a desolate stairwell. "This will do for now," he muttered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'll make sure to bring you somewhere nice when we're both out of here."

As my back hit the wall, I couldn't suppress my growing smirk as Eric neared me. The last time we had stood like this, had been right before he left my room after we made out. Seeing how tall he was, casting a shadow as he towered over me, I let out a sigh of joy; I had missed this. I had missed him. There was nothing that could make me happier than being alone with him. "I'm getting out of here soon, actually,"

Eric hummed as he placed his hand against the wall next to my head, his green eyes locking with mine. I wasn't too afraid to show my burning state-- he watched my lips part as I stared up at him, and I watched his jaw clench as he tried to digest the look in my eyes.

Sex. I was giving him those bedroom eyes that always worked on every guy I had ever been with. My eyes got all glassy, my thick lashes hanging low. I was quite sure I would let him fuck me right here if he wanted to-- I was past the point of caring who caught us. 

"Soon, you say? How soon?" Eric asked, leaning down to press two separate kisses against the corners of my mouth. 

I had to control the way my breath hitched before I answered; "A week and a half,"

Nodding, Eric's fingers brushed against my lips, pressing into the skin as he watched my expression with a heated one of his own. His thumb dipped past my lips, brushing against the tip of my tongue. "I'm out in three," 

I smiled before wrapping my mouth softly around his thumb, watching a breath escape him as his green eyes locked on the sight. Eric leaned down to kiss my cheek, watching as they flushed when he pulled his finger out of my mouth. "Where can I find you when we're out?"

"You seriously think I would leave this place without giving you my address?"

"Okay, good," Eric chuckled, his eyes rounding out with a newfound softness. "Because I think I'll need you out there more than I need you now."

What? I swallowed, biting down on my lower lip. Did he reciprocate the way I was feeling these things? I wondered whether he also felt the pit of fire in his stomach, whether he couldn't breathe whenever I wasn't around, and whether thoughts of me also wreaked havoc through his mind in every waking moment. 

Eric's eyes lowered, taking in my stunned silence. "Honestly, I thought this was purely a lust thing, but... I've come to realize it's not just that. The one thing rehab has taught me, is that I need to break my habits, so here I am. Not running,"

I hadn't smiled this brightly in years. "Eric?"

A hum.

"I feel the same way," I reached out for his face, glad he had bent down a little to make it possible. "I'm quite sure I've gone mad, but standing with you here feels better than any drugs I've ever taken. And quite frankly, that drawing... Fuck, that was quite something." A breathy giggle escaped me, watching as Eric met my gaze with a smirk playing across his plush, pink lips. "That shit was hot. You're so fucking talented, do you know that?"

Eric freed his lower lip from his teeth, inching closer to gently nudge his nose against me. "Nope, I definitely don't know that. Completely oblivious. Which is why I need you around to tell me that, once in a while,"

"I'll tell you every day, if you want," I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of our closeness. 

"Good," Eric whispered against my lips, his hands now grabbing at my waist, pressing himself closer to me. "And I'll eat you out every day. Deal?"

I was quite sure I was going to faint. Remember the drawing, I couldn't wait for our time to come. "Sounds like better therapy than anything they've done for me here,"

"Definitely," 

I smiled, giving his dark hair a tug, pulling Eric against me to connect our lips in a passionate kiss. 

How we had gone from staring at each other to this, I had no idea. How it became this enormous feeling burning through my body, I couldn't guess the answer. But the one thing I knew, was that it felt right-- being with Eric like this felt right. Correct. Perfect. 

As our kisses grew with hunger, resembling that one evening on Eric's bed, my body began to grow flushed as his hands dipped beneath my pink jumper, traveling up my torso with a fiery need to be close. "Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling away, panting just slightly.

I nodded, unable to wipe the grin off my face as my sweater got discarded somewhere on the floor, licking my lips out of pure habit. Eric was quick to dip his head forward, swiping his own tongue along mine. My back arched off the wall in surprise, the movement against his body earning me a small groan. This was how I realized he was hard-- I had to suppress another hitch of my breath.

"Shit, I want to take it all off," Eric whispered against my lips. "Everything. Feel all of you." He pressed his lips against my chin, moving his way down my throat and to my neck. I could feel the cool air hitting my back as he lifted my shirt off as well-- my nipples hardened at his attention, his hands gripping my breasts through my bra, squeezing them. 

I whimpered against his touch, writhing in anticipation. I had no idea what he had planned for me, if we were going to go all the way or not; I could already feel my excitement pool between my legs, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The arousal had been in my system since the second I saw today's drawing, and I let it out by tugging at his dark hair once more, hoping for him to come back up. "Eric, kiss me-- Wanna feel you too," 

I watched Eric's eyes light up as he pulled away and met mine. And he complied, capturing my lips in a needy kiss, his big hands gripping at my hips and digging into my skin through my trousers. Realizing I was the only one with my shirt off, my hands dipped under his, hoping he'd get the memo as I tugged at the hem of his pink sweater. 

Eric's lips barely left mine as he discarded his sweater elsewhere, satisfaction coursing through my veins as our chests pressed up against each other, our hearts beating at the other through our skin. I had desperately wanted to see his tattoos, drink in the sight of the art scattered across his body, but it hit me that we didn't have time-- we didn't know when we'd be caught. I figured I'd leave it to the time we'd be out of rehab, when we'd have time for messy mornings every day, and when we had time to be buried in each other completely. 

"I don't know if I can wait three weeks," I breathed in between hungry kisses, my hands running up and down his toned torso. 

Eric hummed against my lips; "Me neither," 

And with that, it didn't take long before his slender fingers dipped down into my underwear, making my breath hitch at the realization of what was happening. "Been dreaming about this for weeks," Eric whispered, one of his hands disappearing in my hair to hold me in place, making sure my eyes met his as he rubbed tight circles around my clit. "You're all I ever think about."

My mouth was open against his, small gasps escaping past my lips, bucking into his hand as he sped up his movements around my clit. "I'm so crazy about you," I whimpered, watching the green of his eyes swallow me whole with adoration and lust. My mind still hadn't completely registered that this was happening, especially not under the blue lights of the stairwell. "You're better than drugs, I swear."

Eric chuckled against my lips, watching me moan against him as he patted the pad of his finger against the slick of my core. "Better than drugs, you say?"

"Much better," My words were barely coming out properly, and any continuation of that sentence was stopped the second Eric pressed a finger into me. My breath hitched-- fuck. 

He hummed, a sweet smile splayed across his lips; "You're my drug," 

It was almost too much-- I bucked against his hand once more, squirming in his grip as the flame spread through my body. I really couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy or aroused. I let out a breathy moan as he pumped his finger into me, the squelching sound of my wetness drawing forth a blush in my cheeks.

"I'd take my time with you," Eric whispered, capturing my lips in a short kiss before continuing; "But we don't have a lot of time. Forgive me if we make this quick."

I could barely nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his thumb back against my clit, his middle finger curling inside of me. It was obvious that he had done this before. 

My mind was already mush by the time Eric slid his finger out of me, turning me around and peppering my shoulder with wet kisses. It didn't take long before he leaned down to tug my pants down to my knees, fingers eager. I wasn't sure how to explain the burning need that was currently clawing at me, but I knew it was all-consuming. Eric had consumed me-- I knew I was his and only his.

So when I felt his big, strong hands grip my hips, pushing me towards him to allow for an easier entrance, I could only moan out in complete and utter satisfaction as I felt his cock sink into me. Eric let out a breathy grunt, now snaking both hands around my body, burying himself to the hilt with the slowest stroke known to man. "Fuck," was all he managed to say, hissing slightly against my shoulder before sucking down on a spot, wanting to leave behind a mark.

I couldn't believe the strange places my mind went to-- why was I contemplating getting that hickey tattooed? I wouldn't need it anyway, if Eric kept his promise and stayed with me after we both got out. There was nothing I wanted more in the whole wide world.

All my concerns flew out the window as Eric gripped my waist for leverage as he continued to thrust into me, leaving me with my mouth open against the wall. My body was aching with pleasure unmatched anything I had ever felt before, and I knew that the difference between this time and all my other escapades was how much I had craved Eric-- and how much I knew he craved me.

My breath hitched as he nipped at my jaw, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. "Wanted this... so, so long..." Eric let out a grunt as his hands went down to my hips again, pulling away from my neck to watch his cock pump into my dripping core. I was quite sure it was glistening with my slick by the sounds of it. "Wanted this-- Wanted you."

"Me too," I cried, resting my hands against the wall, meeting his thrusts. "Every night, all the time..."

"All the time," he echoed. "Forever."

My breath hitched at both his words and the way one of his hands left my hip, ghosting over my stomach. I knew exactly where it was heading, and I had to bite back a rather loud moan as Eric dipped his hand down between my legs. Eric spread his fingers, covering my whole cunt, feeling the sides of his own cock rut into me. It didn't take long before his whole hand was practically covered in my slick, and I was quite sure I heard a drop hit the floor. Everything about it made me shiver.

Like this, I was practically pushed to rut against the palm of his hand, the pressure against my clit making me gasp-- I knew I wouldn't last long like this. Perfect.

By the sounds of it, Eric wouldn't either. He let a breathy moan escape his lips before he let go of my hips, reaching up to grab my chin, tilting it to the side so that he could kiss me. I let out a soft cry against his lips, feeling my walls clamp down around his thick cock. Feeling beyond full, I reached around to grab his dark hair, feeling his locks between my fingers as a familiar tightening in my stomach appeared. 

"You're the only one I've ever wanted this badly," Eric murmured against my lips, his thrusts becoming rushed and erratic, clearly holding back his high. "Be mine-- Fuck, be mine?"

If I hadn't been this close to my high, I would've cried. "All yours, Eric, all yours... A-Aah!--" My walls clamped around him as I was driven against the palm of his hand once more, driving me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before.

Eric took this as a green light-- It didn't take long before he let out a grunt against my shoulder, gently biting down as ropes of cum decorated my walls, his thick cock twitching with its release inside of me. 

Our pants filled the stairway, and I was quite sure my legs would give out as he pulled out of me with a wet pop, tucking himself back into his trousers. I could only smile, leaning against the wall as I let out a sigh of relief. I was so incredibly glad we managed to do all of this before getting caught-- I was sure I wouldn't have been able to wait until we were both out. The burning in my body subsided, the ache turning into an all-consuming feeling of joy. 

I turned to Eric with a soft smile spread across my lips, trying to steady my breathing. He was especially beautiful now-- kiss-swollen lips really suited him. 

He returned my smile, leaning forward to capture my lips in a soft, gentle kiss. My hands reached out for him, cupping his face as my thumbs caressed his cheeks. It was such an exhilarating feeling to be adored like this, and I wasn't sure I would ever experience it until now. Meeting Eric felt like seeing a lunar rainbow-- exceptionally rare.

However, Eric's sweet smile suddenly turned back into his usual mischievous smirk. Before I could even say a word, he had dropped down to his knees, leaning forward to wrap his lips around my aching sex, covering my whole mound as he sucked at me.

I could barely breathe as I realized what he was doing-- was he sucking his own cum out of me? This was new. And weirdly pleasurable. I let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair in the exact same way I did in Eric's drawing. I could only whimper as his tongue darted out, drawing a circle around my overstimulated clit-- instinctively, my hips bucked against his mouth. Something about this felt weirdly full-circle. "Eric, wait!-- Shit,"

He hummed, looking up at me with those green eyes I loved so much. "Will you kill me if I draw this?"

I could only sigh-- bliss. 

(a/n: PART 1, PART 3 linked here!! enjoy<33)

[emmyc0z]

Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️

Not So Subtle

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.

a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream. 

“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours. 

“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.” 

“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.

Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.

Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand. 

There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.

“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.” 

“Can you even talk to him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then why are you sitting here staring..?” 

“He’s training..” 

“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible. 

But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable. 

“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh. 

“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..” 

“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth. 

His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.

He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.

“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.” 

“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth. 

“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face. 

“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.” 

“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.” 

“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care. 

Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you. 

He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught. 

You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again. 

“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?” 

“He saw me.” 

“What?” 

“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.

“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”

You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine. 

“This is so pathetic…” 

“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.” 

“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you. 

You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too. 

“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious. 

“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?” 

“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.” 

“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.” 

You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack. 

He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood. 

“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.” 

“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently. 

“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking. 

At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you. 

“Is there a problem?”

“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes. 

“I see now..” 

“See what?” 

“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.

“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?” 

He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost. 

“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?” 

When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.

Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing. 

“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“F…for ignoring you.”

“So you ignore me?” 

“No!”

“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?” 

“For not talking to you.” 

“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”

“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone. 

“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.” 

You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”

You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips. 

“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again. 

“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red. 

“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly. 

Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.

His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw. 

When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed. 

Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”

His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.

“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly. 

“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.

[justrymesblog]

Before you read this, I want you to know that this message might be hard to hear, but it could also be the beginning of the change you’ve been seeking.

Many of us, myself included, spend our lives searching for a savior, an epiphany, or something external to rescue us: a book, a speech, a mentor, a sign. We think that this one thing will open the doors to a better life. We cling desperately to small details, convincing ourselves they’re the confirmation we need to keep going: mirror numbers on a clock, a fallen feather, a butterfly crossing our path. We say, “It’s a sign from the universe, I’m on the right track”—all while staying trapped in a cycle we hate but find so hard to escape.

We often become slaves to the material world. We buy talismans, books, or listen to subliminal audios on repeat, seeking immediate results: “Why isn’t this audio working?”, “How many times do I need to listen to it to see a change?” We even sleep with headphones on, hoping it will speed up the process, yet the change never seems to come.

I understand you because I’ve been there.

It took me years to escape that cycle. Years of feeling lost, stuck, tied to my own thoughts and patterns. I spent months not knowing what to do, always ending up back at the same point. I turned to religions where I never felt truly at home. I prayed in churches, temples, and altars, waiting for miracles that never came. I lived believing that something external would change my destiny, but each attempt only led to disappointment. The reality? Nothing changed—or worse, things got even harder.

Then I realized: the only salvation comes from within.

We are the architects of our lives. Our minds are the most powerful tool we have. There are no limits beyond the ones we impose on ourselves. Imagine something unimaginable—a dream, a reality that seems impossible—and yet, you have the power to manifest it! But here’s the challenge: you must truly believe it. You must understand that you are in complete control.

If you want to be wealthy, you can achieve it. If you desire perfect health, unconditional love, travel, or anything else, it’s within your reach. Nothing is too big or too small for your creative power. But first, you must let go of limiting ideas like, “I wasn’t born rich” or “My life would have been different if I had better advantages.” These thoughts are just chains you’ve placed on yourself.

The first step to change is to take full responsibility for everything that has happened in your life. Yes, everything. It’s difficult, but that’s the key: accepting that you created your current reality, which means you also have the power to transform it.

If you’re tired of living the same way, PUT AN END TO IT.

Dare to change. Break free from everything that limits you. Rebuild your story from scratch. One of my favorite phrases always reminds me:

"When you see no way out, remember: the end is the beginning of everything."

Did you know there are scientific experiments that prove the incredible power of our minds? The CIA has documented studies on practices like remote viewing, where individuals can perceive things beyond space and time. These studies are not theories or pseudoscience—they are real evidence of our infinite potential.

There are also studies about how our thoughts impact matter. Researchers like Masaru Emoto demonstrated how our emotions and words can alter the molecular structure of water. If our words can affect something as tangible as water, imagine what they can do to your life, your cells, and your entire reality.

The limits don’t exist, except in your mind.

Life is as malleable as clay in the hands of a sculptor. And you are the sculptor. The question is no longer “What can I achieve?” but “What can’t I create?”

The time you have is precious. Use it to build the life you truly want, because the only obstacle standing between you and your dreams is you. The key is to believe and to act from that powerful force within you.

Remember: nothing is impossible. The moment to transform your life begins now.

[evilmenenjoyer]

Gratitude

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader

SEQUEL to City of Love. Probably not a good fic to read as a stand-alone; read City of Love first for context.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), dubious consent, rough sex after a fight, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, bruising, marking, pain play/sadomasochism, mirror sex, manhandling, hurt/comfort (but mostly hurt), lots of angst.

Tags: @apookalypse @thecutiepieishere / I do not have an official taglist yet, but I'd be willing to make one if people were interested. If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, or in any additions to this story, let me know somehow!

–––

It's three days later when you see him again, just when you were convinced he left Paris for good.

You knew it would take a lot longer for the reminders of him to leave your mind as well as your body. He's in the marks his hands left on your hips, in the scrapes and faint bruises along your back from when he tossed and squeezed you against the brick wall, in the ghost of his lips on your skin. You can still feel them every time you close your eyes, hear his voice whisper your name against your neck as he came.

It shouldn't surprise you, after everything, to have him knock on your door right as you’re getting ready to have a night out. It still nearly takes your breath away to see him, looking as impeccable as usual in his dark gray suit, smiling as if his mere presence doesn't rock your world upside down a third time.

“What part of ‘don’t ever contact me again’ did you not understand?” you ask, though right away you can tell you don't sound nearly as firm and assertive as you’d like. You wonder if he can tell you hoped, against every rational thought in your brain, that he would come back.

Judging by his smile, you’d bet he can.

“I couldn't help myself,” he responds, raising his hands slightly in mock surrender. “Can I come in?”

That part of you that still clings to rationality, that can tell a good idea apart from a horrible one, lights up like a loud siren in your brain. There's nothing good that could possibly come out of this. Hasn't he toyed with you enough already? With his weird twisted games, tracking you down all the way to a foreign country, sending you off to those horrific games?

Still, you find yourself stepping aside, leaving a gap for him to come through. You’ve never been good at controlling your impulses, after all.

The apartment you’ve been renting for the time being stands in the heart of Paris. It looks exactly what you pictured a typical, glamorous Parisian apartment to look like – high walls, hardwood floors, large arched windows with a stunning view of the city and the Eiffel Tower. It's furnished with all the essentials, and nothing more. You didn't see the need to bring in new furniture or decorations when you didn't even know for how long you’d be staying in the city. At this point, you’re already considering moving on to somewhere else.

“Make yourself at home,” you say. “But I’m going out soon.”

“I see that.” His eyes run over you as he sits at the arm of the couch, shamelessly lingering on the black dress that hugs all your curves at the right spots. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

You turn your back to him, looking for the earrings you had put down somewhere when you heard the knock on the door. You feel his body heat approach you from behind, his fingertips brushing against a red spot on your shoulder blade that the spaghetti straps of the dress fail to cover.

“Did I do this to you?”

His voice doesn't sound remorseful or apologetic at all. If only, there's a hint of pride to his tone, a small smile at the corner of his lip that you can tell is there without even looking at him. It should upset you, thinking of how roughly he pushed you against that wall, but it has goosebumps blooming all over your skin around the spot he touches.

“Who else would it be?” Your voice shakes ever so slightly against your will, and you clear your throat to get rid of it.

You expect him to pull back, but instead he inches even closer. He has to lean down to mold his chest to your back, his lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck when he speaks. “I can make it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” You turn your head just enough to chase after his lips. Screw the night out. He lets you capture them, indulging you in only a quick kiss before pulling away.

“I’m serious. I have something for you.”

“Oh.” You frown at the loss of contact, turning to face him. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

Your frown deepens, and he raises his eyebrows at you. “Don't you trust me yet?” he asks.

No. Absolutely not. Still, what's the worst that can happen? What would he do while you have your eyes closed that he can't do right now; that he couldn't have done three nights ago at that bar, when you gave yourself to him so willingly?

You close your eyes, with a small sigh as if letting him know it's a nuisance. There's no real heat to it, and you both know it.

The Salesman’s hands find their way to your arms, guiding you further into the apartment. You follow his lead slowly, careful not to bump into any furniture or clutter you left around the place while picking an outfit and getting ready.

“You didn't have to give me a gift,” you say, still confused about what this is about. He stops walking the two of you, leaving you in an unknown part of the apartment. Your heart beats slightly faster than normal; distrustful, but excited. No man has ever bought you a gift before. Gifts are for girlfriends, for women they're trying to impress. Somehow, in all your years on this Earth, you’d missed out on being that woman to anyone.

“I was feeling romantic,” he explains. You feel something cold land over the exposed skin of your neck and chest, and he fiddles with a clasp at the nape of your neck. “Blame it on Paris. You can open your eyes.”

You do so, finding yourself standing in your bedroom, right in front of the large mirror resting against the wall. The necklace stands out against your skin – thin white gold chain and gemstones shining so bright you can immediately tell they're real, a ruby and a sapphire encrusted by tiny crystals. The color choice is an odd one for a necklace, prompting you to take a closer look. That's when any hints of a smile vanish from your face.

The gemstones are placed beside each other, the shapes and markings in them identical to those of the ddakji tiles you and the Salesman had played together in the subway station.

“I had it custom-made for you,” he says. Standing behind you, his reflection on the mirror takes up almost the entire background, but you don't pay him any mind. Your eyes are all but glued to the red and deep blue stones hanging from your neck, hoping against hope that you had seen it all wrong, that this was just a figment of your imagination and the real necklace will reveal itself if you just look hard enough.

It never does.

Reality hits you then. This isn’t some fun new fling, or the beginning of a Paris romance. This is the man who lured you into a horribly traumatic experience when you were at your most vulnerable, who came all the way from Seoul just to rub in your face that you didn't deserve to make it out of there alive. And now here he is. Prying his way into your apartment, your body, your mind. And you just let him.

Horror floods you, nearly pushing you to your knees right here. You touch the pendant with shaky fingers, and it takes everything in you not to grab the chain and yank it off your neck. Finally, your eyes meet the Salesman’s in the mirror.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He blinks innocently. “You don't like it?”

“Why would you do this?” you ask, unsure of whether you want to burst into tears or slap him in the face.

His fingers join yours where they rest on the necklace, only grazing your skin on their way to touching the pendant. “I thought you'd like a reminder.”

That makes you spring into action, pulling away from him and pushing his hand away with a ferocity you didn't know you still had, not since the Squid Games.

“A reminder? What makes you think I want to remember that shit?” You raise your voice; something to make up for how small you feel, by the way you need to tilt your head to look him in the eye. “If I could erase that night from my memory for the rest of my life, I would.”

“I find that hard to believe. Would you erase our night together at the bar as well?” His eyes leave yours only to look back to the mirror behind you. “Look at you. Wearing those bruises so proudly.”

For a moment all you can do is stare at him, unable to believe the sheer audacity he has to stand in your house and say these things. The worst of it all is you can’t fully deny it – you picked the dress deliberately knowing it left the upper part of your back exposed, happy to catch glimpses of the bruises he left you with if you happened to stumble upon a mirror or reflective surface throughout the night.

“I would,” you insist. “What the fuck makes you think I’d want to remember the night that ruined my life?”

A laugh comes out of him; a short, but cruel sound. “I ruined your life, is that what you're saying?”

You scoff. “Don't act like you don't know you did.”

He steps even closer to you. You refuse to step back, even when it feels like his chest is about to bump into your forehead. “Your life,” he says, “was already shit way before I came around. Debt, an awful job, an even worse home, no future prospects, no friends. What exactly was there about your life that was good enough to be ruined?”

Rage consumes you to hear him talk like that about your old life. Things were bad, yes, but there was a positivity about you that's been lost ever since you stepped foot in those games. You could barely make ends meet, and your shifts were long and exhausting, but you had hopes of going to school, of turning your life around. Your home was a tiny, shitty house in an even shittier neighborhood, but you still took the effort to decorate it and try to make it feel more like a home. Where did that go? Now, you have all the money you could ever wish for, and all you do is spend it on clothes and expensive trips you don't even have the motivation to enjoy, your only goal being getting far away from Seoul.

“At least I felt like a fucking person! Do you even know what that’s like? Feeling human?” you all but yell, grateful for the language barrier in case any neighbors happen to be listening. “I’d never killed anyone. I’d never wanted to kill anyone! I didn't have nightmares, and I didn't wake up every day wondering if I deserve to be alive after everything I did to survive!”

“You had nothing,” he reminds you, his voice cold as the winter outside. “Not even your dignity. Or did you forget how we met? How you asked me to play ddakji with you, willing to get hit in the face repeatedly not for money, but just to have my attention?”

You hold back a sob, shaking your head furiously, but it's of no use. The words sting hard enough to bring tears to your eyes; it stings even more to know they're true. 

“Get out of my apartment,” you demand. You wish you'd never let him in. You wish you'd never met him at all.

“Things are different now,” he says, ignoring your order completely. “You’re rich, and you’ve matured. You’ll never struggle again in your life, if you're smart.”

“I said GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Finally at your breaking point, you push him, shoving at his chest as hard as you have the strength to. He barely budges. It's only then that you notice how cornered he’s got you, your back about to bump into the mirror.

He brings his hand towards your face, cupping your chin and forcing you to look higher up at him. You thrash and claw at his wrist, trying to push it away from you, but he only tightens his grip until it's almost painful. There’s a darkness in his eyes that’s unlike any expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“I made you stronger. You're a millionaire now because of me,” he says. “How about a little gratitude?”

Even from your position, you still manage an incredulous scoff at him. “Gratitude?”

“Yes.” A grin stretches the corner of his lips, not a trace of warmth of friendliness behind it. “You should be thankful I pulled you out of your misery.”

He moves faster than you’re ready to, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you down. You brace yourself for the impact of your head hitting the floor, gasping in surprise when your back bounces over the soft mattress instead. He hovers above you, using his heavier body to pin yours down before you even have the chance to start struggling against his grip.

“Get off me!”

“Calm down.” He holds both your wrists together with one hand, while the other manages to somehow pull your panties off your body, using your kicking legs as leverage. Your eyes widen in shock. “I’m just giving you another reminder.”

“W-what?” Your voice wavers with fear. All that fury is slowly but surely being replaced with it, or with a mixture of both feelings that leaves you heaving for breath.

He doesn't have to pull your dress up – your own struggle does it by itself, leaving the fabric rumpled up at your hips and your bottom exposed. You stop kicking him in an attempt to cover yourself, and he takes advantage of that fraction of a second to stick his knee on the spot on the mattress between your legs, stopping you from shutting them. You gasp, the heavy pressure on your core cutting off all your thoughts for a moment. You can think of nothing to do other than to yell for help.

As if reading your thoughts, his free hand covers your mouth.

You voice your displeasure through a muffled grunt. You keep on struggling, trying to kick him off you, but each movement unintentionally rubs your bare clit over his thigh that pins you down. He applies even more pressure and you cry out, mortified to feel heat pooling between your legs.

“Christ, you're wet. I can feel it.”

You can feel it too, the fabric of his pants damp and hot where it connects with you. You're torn on whether to keep fighting and essentially humping his leg or giving up, if only to have a few instants of relief.

“If you scream, I’ll slit your throat,” he warns in a hoarse whisper. “Do you understand?”

Out of options, you nod.

He releases your mouth, then your wrists. It occurs to you to scream anyway, but you force yourself to remember who you're dealing with. He wouldn’t give you empty threats. Anyone involved in bringing people into those games has no qualms about slitting your throat open and leaving you to bleed out on your silk sheets.

The Salesman makes his way down your body, now holding onto your legs with his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you manage to ask, the answer rather obvious but it had all happened so fast, leaving you dazed and confused.

“Giving you yet another reason to be thankful to me.”

The sudden, damp feel of his tongue on your entrance overcomes your senses, and you wouldn't be able to hold back a shout if you tried.

Fortunately, he forgives you for it. You squirm under the sensations, but he holds your hips down against the mattress in a firm grip, immobilizing them completely and prying you open all at once. You hoist yourself up over your elbows only to be met with your own reflection on the mirror across the room, your hair a mess already and your face contorted in fear and pleasure and indignation all at once. You can’t bear to watch yourself like this, mortification entrenched into every muscle of your body that reacts to his touch as he continues to penetrate you with his tongue. You fall back towards the mattress with a broken moan.

“God– Y-you can’t–” Whatever you were about to say dies out in your throat as his lips rise to your clit, enveloping you so expertly in the wet heat of his mouth. You clench your whole body, eyelids all the way down to your toes, and for a moment you’re grateful for the hands that hold your legs open just so you don’t have to face the shame of spreading them wider.

Your hands, perfectly capable of putting up a fight once they’d been released, twist into the sheets beneath you, holding on like your life depends on it. You curse yourself for not trying harder to push him off, for not really wanting to; for always being so unwilling to say no to him. Moans leave your lips like they’re being ripped out of you, growing in volume like you just can’t help it. It makes you wish one of the pillows were within reach so you could bury it against your face and muffle them, or simply to hide yourself from how incredibly good it feels to be at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long at all. Say whatever you want about the Salesman, but this is a man who knows what he’s doing with his tongue. In only a few minutes he reduces you to whimpers and pleading, your orgasm hitting you like a wave crashing full-force over the shore. Your back arches off the bed, mouth open in a long moan, and he continues to dine on you like a starving man until the moment you fall backwards, spent.

When you come back to yourself, you’re covering your face with your hands as he presses kisses to the line of your inner thigh. You feel him make his way up your body, feel his hands on your wrists, gently moving them out of the way and exposing your face, the deep flush that has colored your cheeks.

Looking into his eyes, you’re overcome with a rush of emotions you’re not sure how to name. How can a person make you feel so many things at once? How can you still want him – ardently, desperately, profoundly want him – after everything? How can he be so addictive, leaving you already hooked from the scraps of attention he’s given you? You tilt your head just a tiny bit towards him, a silent invitation, and he leans in the rest of the way to take your lips in his.

He kisses you deeply, hungrily, holding you through the shudders that run through your body from the aftershocks of your orgasm until they subside. Kisses you like you’re more than just a hookup, tempting you to believe there must be something about you that’s special. Kisses you for long enough to get you drunk in it, like he’s happy to do nothing but this for the rest of his life.

The next time he pulls back, he removes his suit jacket and tie. You somehow manage to help him unbutton his white shirt, motivated by the promise of feeling his bare skin on yours. You nearly forget his pants are still on, letting him work on that as you press kisses to down his neck. Of course his body is as perfect as his face. He makes an approving sound that you can feel on his throat, and you follow the vibrations of his vocal chords until his pulse point, pleased to find his heartbeats as fast as yours. You can’t resist taking the skin there between your teeth.

He growls, hands tightening on your hips and flipping you on the bed so you’re facing the other side, your back to him. You hold onto the bed frame to steady yourself, body half-bent forward.

You expect him to thrust into you without warning, just as he had the last time. Before that, he brings a hand underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards, your sight landing squarely on your joined reflection on the mirror.

“Keep your eyes right there.” Now he enters you, and you watch your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion. “Watch yourself get fucked on my cock.”

The sheer filth in his voice prompts you to obey, to look. Your knuckles turn white on the bedframe and your body rocks forward with each of his thrusts; slow at first, but steadily gaining power and speed. He reaches down to rub your clit in circles, and it makes your body jerk to feel it and see it at the same time, to watch your reactions in real time. The sight of the necklace still hanging from your neck prompts you to look away, a confirmation of what’s actually happening to you that you’re not prepared to stare in the face.

His hand leaves your clit to wrap itself into your hair, yanking it back. Your body arches to follow it, your reflection on the glass confronting you once again.

“I said look,” he says into your ear. “Don’t you wanna see what a pretty mess you are for me?”

You shake your head, although his death grip on your hair makes it difficult to move. That’s precisely the issue: seeing the mess that he made you into, seeing yourself so overwhelmed and dirty and ashamed, the sounds leaving you suggesting nothing other than aching, raw need. It’s too much. It doesn’t stop you from pushing your hips back to meet his, trying to match his rhythm. 

He angles his thrusts to hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Oh God,” you croak, feeling the heaviness of tears behind your eyes and another orgasm fast approaching.

Just when you’re close, impossibly close to your release, he stops. You watch him on the mirror, panting just for a moment before he pulls out of you and releases your hair. You’re about to protest, or maybe plead for mercy, but he pushes you to lay on your back on the bed again, back inside of you before you can even think of a sentence.

“How about that thank you now?” He pounds into you, somehow even deeper from this position.  “Say it.”

“Shut up,” you say instead. The pause, brief as it was, only served to make you more desperate to come, and the last thing you need right now is to hear this. “Please just shut up.”

The necklace gleams over your chest, catching his attention. The Salesman runs a thumb over the sapphire, as if contemplating something, before he presses down on the pendant hard, digging it into your skin.

You gasp, throwing your head back. He’s moving fast enough that the bed rocks underneath you, the headboard slamming into the wall, his fingers still on the necklace like he wants to imprint it into your chest. It fucking hurts, the sharp metal edges unrelenting, digging in hard enough to leave a bruise. It makes your body sing, awakes the deeply-hidden, fucked up parts of you that crave this kind of pain.

“Every time you wake up,” the Salesman says, slightly out of breath himself, but much more composed than you, “and you look out of the window and see Paris, or anywhere that’s not the gutter in Seoul, you thank me for saving you.” He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust. “Say it.”

You don’t want to say it. Saying it makes you feel like it’s true, like you should give in and believe what he’s saying. That you are a piece of trash who got lucky, after all, and you should thank him for anything close to success that you achieve from now on. But your orgasm is so close you can feel the force of it numb your ears, your wrists; and in this moment, you would say anything, do anything, so long as he keeps you feeling this good.

“Thank you,” the words are just barely above a whisper, like you wish you could keep them to yourself as a shameful secret.

“For what?”

He gives you another hard thrust, almost painful if only the lines between pain and pleasure hadn’t been blurred a long time ago. You push your chest into an arch, the pendant digging even deeper into you until it breaks skin and the pain turns into agony.

“F-for saving me.”

“Good girl.”

You come then, thinking about the mark that the necklace will leave on you, thinking about how you’re going to feel it for days, how you’re going to remember it every time you feel it or see it. That there will be evidence on your body that he touched you this passionately. It feels like you’re floating, rising to the sky as you clench and unclench around him, as sound after humiliating sound leaves you.

You collapse back against the mattress when your orgasm finally lets you go, boneless and spent. You didn’t see or hear him come – in another situation, it might’ve upset you to miss it, if you weren’t still riding the aftershocks of that incredible high –, but he’s still against you, breathing hard into your neck. His release leaks from between your legs. He stays like that for a long time, slowly softening inside of you, before he finally pulls out and away from you.

You stay right where you are, unmoving. Somewhere far away, you think you can hear him searching for his clothes and dressing himself. You don’t want it to upset you, but it does; because of course he would come here, humiliate you, give you the best fuck of your life and then immediately leave, without so much as a word to you. Your head falls to the side, and even that small movement feels incredibly difficult, like your entire body is a limb that has fallen asleep. Your vision is blurry, far-away, until it finally focuses on the large window that overlooks the city. Tiny snowflakes flutter over the city lights and the dark night sky.

“It’s snowing.”

That pulls his attention to you. He’s got his pants and shirt on, the first few buttons undone, his once perfectly-styled hair a mess. He follows the line of your gaze to the window. “Were you looking forward to it?” he asks.

“Yeah.” It feels like forever ago since the last time you even thought about it. The Salesman was right; the city is beautiful at this time of the year.

You expect him to return to his clothes then head out the door. Instead, he reaches for the covers over the bed and wraps your naked body up in them like a baby. “Ow,” you hiss when he moves you, pain exploding on your chest where the necklace was pressed against you. A few drops of blood dry on your skin from when the skin had split. You feel the Salesman lift you bridal-style, much to your surprise, but you’re still too dazed to find it in you to question it.

He sits you both on the thick windowsill, him behind you and you leaning against his chest, framed by his legs. It’s gentle, somehow more intimate than you’ve ever been with him even after sleeping with him twice. You watch the snowfall outside, mesmerized, letting the steady rise-and-fall of his chest behind you soothe your aching muscles.

It’s the closest to safe you’ve felt in what feels like forever, and you’re crying before you even realize it.

Once it starts, it’s impossible to stop it. Your body trembles with the force of your sobs, tears flowing from your eyes like they haven’t since you were a little kid, at least not this openly. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against himself and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, keeping his lips right there against your scalp. He rocks you ever so slightly, shushing your cries, the sound as soothing as a soft lullaby. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you sob. You think about the snow in Seoul, about how the first snowfall always made you excited, even when it happened every year. You can feel your tears rolling down your cheeks and into your neck, your collarbones. “I want to go home.”

“Then go home,” he says, like it’s simple.

“I can’t.” How can you walk the same streets you always did, as if your life wasn’t completely changed? As if the price you paid for this change wasn’t much, much greater than you could deal with? “You’re right. I have nothing. No one.”

“You had nothing. You can have anything you want now.” You want to tell him there are things money can’t buy, but you’re so tired, so exhausted. You can’t muster the willpower for much other than wallowing in your own misery, weeping in his arms like a child. “And you have me.”

That only makes you cry harder, shaking your head. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Look at me.” He nudges you to turn to him, the angle awkward but it’s so worth it the second he cups your face in both hands, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “I mean it. Come back to Seoul.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your heavy eyelids. “You just need to see things from a different perspective. I can help you.”

He coaxes you to lay back against him, and you do so without protest, burying your face into his chest. For a moment you actually consider it. Dropping the plans you had for a next trip and following him to Seoul, letting him finish corrupting you with whatever twisted worldview he has. Maybe it would be blissful, you think, to see all that violence and bloodshed as a blessing, as something that saved you rather than ruined you. It has to be a trap, or another one of his games. But it doesn’t hurt to dream about it, just a little bit.

Little by little your crying subsides, your breaths returning to normal. He holds you through it all, stroking your hair in a way that’s so tender, so soft, like you’re fragile. Like he cares about you, or even loves you.

You silently wonder if he can love anyone at all, much less someone as broken as you.

With his fingers drawing circles on your scalp, you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

–––

You wake up alone. You’re still naked but on the bed, tucked into your blankets. There’s no confusion over what happened last night, no delusions that your brain would come up with a dream like that. There’s only memories hitting you like a truck, one after the other, and it’s too fucking early for this.

You pull yourself into a sitting position, and you jump at the sight of yourself on the mirror. You barely notice the smudged makeup from last night, your eyes going straight to the star of the show: the angry red spot right on the center of your chest, already turning into a deep purple at the center. You flinch before you even touch it, your hand hanging in the air halfway through like you’ve changed your mind. The necklace finishes it off like the cherry on top of the cake, the pair of precious stones right next to each other like eyes watching you, mocking you.

You button your coat all the way up before you leave the house.

It’s still early enough that the sun has just begun rising, coloring the sky in a bright blue that bleeds into the buildings and streets. There’s probably nothing open right now, but you could really use some coffee. Or a drink. Probably a drink.

You find him at Pont Neuf, watching the river below. There’s no one else around, the city in a rare moment of quiet and peace. He hasn’t spotted you yet, seemingly lost in thought, and it occurs to you that you could sneak up behind him, push him over the edge and just keep on walking. Sever your ties to him forever, and simply keep going like nothing ever happened, bury it along with all the other memories you try so hard to forget.

You don’t do it, but knowing you could brings you a bit of comfort. You lower your head and keep walking in the opposite direction, not sparing him another glance.

[planetaryupscaled]

Steamy Vacation

Male OC x Yeji x Yuna

Tags: 5k, cheating, oral, creampie, threesome

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Fuck! Yesss! Keep going!” Hwang Yeji moaned.

“Almost there,” Minho told Yeji as he repeatedly impaled the ravishing idol with his cock.

“Little bit longer…almost there,” she said between breaths. “Do it…at the same time.”

Both of them were naked and having sex in the Jeju apartment bedroom. Minho had his arms on either side of Yeji as he was on top of her doing her in the missionary position. She had one of her legs wrapped around him and as her third orgasm of the afternoon approached, she reached up and grabbed onto his biceps.

“Now, Minho. Now! Annhhhh!,” She let out a loud moan as she came, and watching her o-face and feeling her already incredibly tight pussy clamp on his cock drove him to fill the condom he was wearing with his second load with her that day. He lowered himself to kiss her before rolling off of her. She let out a pleasurable sigh, and then said, “I love vacation sex.”

“You’re happy to be out for a bit, or are you happy to be on vacation from your boyfriend?”

“Watch it,” she said giving him a playful slap. She didn’t like him talking about her boyfriend, especially not while they were both naked together. Minho and Yeji’s boyfriend had never warmed up to one another. Minho wasn’t sure what the deal was between Yeji and her boyfriend.

They had been dating for several years, but that didn’t stop her from hooking up with him after that summer time in Busan, at first, he thought it was supposed to be a one-time thing but one thing led to another, now he just consider himself a lucky guy.

You bet he is.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“I need to take a shower,” she said, getting out of bed and walking naked to the bathroom.

“Want some help?” he asked as he followed her.

“No, we need to get ready,” she told him.

“We have time,” he said as he plopped the used condom into the trash bin.

“Not really, and we both know what will happen if we get in the shower together.”

“I’m not sure if you can, but I can control myself,” He said confidently, but jokingly. She did not give an audible answer, she rolled her eyes at him and then looked down. She slapped his cock lightly, and his erection bobbed up and down for a moment.

“Alright, fair point,” he conceded, “but you know what we could be doing is better than seeing anything on Lotte.”

“Yeah, sure,” she laughed. “Look, I promised Yuna I’d take Hongsam for a walk before leaving, so you can go do that while I shower. This way I don’t need to worry about you sneaking in with me.”

“So you’re kicking me out?”

“Temporarily,” she answered and lightly pushed him back until he was outside the bathroom. Minho didn’t put up a fight and just redressed. He then went to take Hongsam for a walk. Hongsam was Shin Yuna’s dog. The room he was just having sex with was the guest bedroom of Yuna’s apartment, which they rented while performing here in Jeju.

Minho too was visiting Jeju, but he was there for work and was staying at a hotel room that his employer was paying for. He was happy that his trip lined up with ITZY performing so he could see his friend perform on stage.

Though it appears as though Yeji might have had some other ideas for the trip as well. The two went to lunch together, and then she invited him back to Yuna’s place to hang out before the show. And from there, things quickly progressed into them having two rounds of sex on the guest bed.

After about thirty minutes, Minho took Hongsam back to the apartment and gave him a treat for doing his business. As Yeji got dressed, he took a quick shower to wash the sex scent off himself. Once they were both dressed, they got a quick bite to eat since they were planning on having a very late dinner with Yuna after the show.

Yuna had left them tickets and they were in their seats with five minutes to spare before the curtain opened. ITZY was great on stage, though Minho could not help but notice how good Yuna looked. Dressed in black with her legs exposed in black tights. He was still a little turned on from being with Yeji that afternoon and watching Yuna was not subduing those feelings.

Yeji notices after they’ve finished their performance. She saw how focused Minho was on the stage, and it was after the intermission that she thought she noticed a lump in his pants.

“I can’t believe you had an erection,” she laughed.

“Quiet,” he tried to hush her.

“Was that just from watching us, or were you thinking about something else?”

“Hoping I was thinking about this afternoon?” he quipped while waving at Yuna as she came out the door. She waved back but had to sign some fan autographs and take selfies before she could go with them.

“Want me to stand in front of you? Hide any boners you might get.” Yeji said.

“Is that the reason you want to stand in front of me? In case I get an erection, I’ll have someplace to hide it.”

Her teasing him had somehow morphed into some high-level flirting. As Yuna got closer, bringing more people closer to them, they quit talking. Though even when they went to go have dinner with Yuna, Yeji dropped a number of euphemisms and double-entendres during their meal. She told Yuna that they had Minho’s “full attention” throughout their performance. Minho was not entertained by this, but he did his best not to show it and have Yuna catch on.

After they eat, they all went back to Yuna’s apartment. Yuna went right to her room to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then she took Hongsam outside for a quick walk. Minho thought it was time for him to leave, but Yuna told him to stay and they could hang out for a bit when she got back. Once she was out of the apartment, Minho turned to Yeji and snapped at her “What the hell was all that?”

“All what?” she played coy,

“All that stuff at dinner. All the erection innuendos.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Minho paused and thought a moment. “You know, I thought you were just making fun of me, but now I’m thinking that you’re jealous that I might have gotten hard looking at Yuna.”

“There was no might about it,” she snidely replied.

“See I knew it.”

“Look, Minho, I’m sorry you had a HARD time at dinner, but you’re crazy if you think I was jealous of anything.”

“I’ll show you a hard time,” Minho snapped back and lowered the fly on his jeans. Yeji excitedly bit her lip as she saw him reaching into his pants…

When Yuna got back to her apartment, she heard some strange sounds and noticed that neither of her friends were anywhere in sight. She took off Hongsam’s leash and gave him a treat before she went to investigate. She followed the sound to the hallway and before she rounded the corner she heard a loud moan from a woman. Turning the corner, she found her friends in the hall.

“What’s going on here!” Yuna exclaimed. “I can’t believe you two.” Of course, it was extremely obvious what was happening. Yeji was braced against the wall in the hallway with her pants down just above her knees, and Minho was right behind her with his pants below his ass, and his cock pumping in and out of Yeji.

“Oh God, this isn’t…ummm…” Yeji tried to think of something to say.

“This is exactly what it looks like,” Minho said and then withdrew his cock. Exposing his condom-wrapped hard cock to Yuna, with it glistening in the hallway light from her friend’s pussy juices.

“Wow, she was pretty wet, huh?” Yuna said as she looked at his cock and took a few steps forward.

“Yeah, she is,” he agreed.

“Let me ask, are you hard because of her, or because you are still thinking about me on stage?” Yuna asked, and Yeji laughed. Minho’s head quickly snapped and looked at Yeji.

“You told her? When?” He wanted to know.

“I texted her about it as soon as the show was over.”

“So the whole time you were making subtle jokes during dinner?” he asked Yeji.

“I knew what she was doing,” Yuna answered.

“Don’t worry, I found it flattering.”

Yuna then grabbed hold of his cock. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom,” she suggested.

The three of them quickly moved into the guest room.

Yuna had Minho sit on the edge of the bed and she dropped down to her knees. She yanked off the condom and began sucking his cock. While Yuna hungrily sucked his dick, Yeji stood nearby and began stripping out of her clothes. Once naked she got onto the bed with him. She and Minho began kissing, and he reached out and began fingering her. Yeji moaned into his mouth when she felt him slide a second finger into her. Yeji eventually reached down for his cock that Yuna was still sucking on. Yeji’s hand replaced Yuna’s on his shaft and she began stroking him while Yuna’s lips and tongue focused on the tip. Eventually, it was all too much for Minho. He could no longer even concentrate on trying to kiss Yeji, he was just lost in the feeling of pleasure he was getting on his dick.

“So how is she?” Yeji asked.

“Soooo good.”

“Is she better at it than me?”

“No chance I am answering that,” he said smartly.

“And you really don’t want to play that game,” Yuna teased Yeji before going back to giving him a blow job.

“Well, you do look good with a dick in your mouth,” Yeji teased her back. Yuna responded by flipping her off.

“She is right, you do,” he told her honestly.

“Yuna, I’m going to…”

“Then do it already,” she told him. Like with Yeji, Minho and Yuna had hooked up dozens of times after that summer in Busan. Also, just like Yeji, Yuna was currently dating a guy that Minho disliked. While Minho never got along well with Yeji’s boyfriend, it was Yuna’s that he really didn’t much care for. He could not understand how they ever got together or why they are still together.

Normally he could feel Yuna swallowing as he came into her mouth, this time he could not. He found out the reason for that after he finished cumming. Yuna dragged her lips off his cock with a pop before opening her lips to show him all the jizz she’d collected in her mouth. Yuna then got up off the floor and moved to Yeji. She grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. Minho watched as the two pretty idol kissed, and saw Yuna push some of his cum from her mouth to Yeji’s, with some trickled down the sides of both of their lips as they kissed and snowballed his cum.

Even after they had swallowed all of the cum, they continued to kiss. Yuna was the aggressor, and Yeji fell backward to the point that Yeji fell backward.

Yuna did not allow Yeji to escape and crawled onto the bed, so her knees were right on the edge with her feet hanging off of it, and her hand propped her up as she leaned over Her teammate before bending back down to kiss her some more.

Minho, just like any other guy in his position, could not help but get aroused by the sight next to him. If his dick deflated at all after the blow job, it was now back to full mass. He took off his shirt and kicked off his pants and boxers, which had pooled around his ankles as Yuna began to suck his cock again.

With Minho and Yeji now naked, there was only one person in the room who was still wearing clothes. Yuna except for having no shoes, was still dressed as she was when she took her dog out for a walk. That did not last long. Minho got off the bed, positioned himself behind Yuna and yanked down her sweatpants. She had a pair of white panties that were soaking. He could clearly see how wet they were.

He put his hands on Yuna’s ass and bent down to look at her flawless backside. Her smooth-shaven pussy was literally dripping wet as he ran his tongue along her slit, licking up all her excess juices. Yuna sat up and moaned as she felt his tongue. She then turned around to face him when she felt his tongue pull away.

“Don’t tease me…” she pleaded.

“Trust me, I’m not,” he told her and then slid his hard cock inside of her. She was so wet that despite being crazy tight, he had no issue sliding his dick into her. Yuna moaned and smiled back at Minho, who began to fuck her from behind.

“God I missed this,” he told her. “You feel so good… so tight.”

“Nnhhh yesss,” she said with pride about how tight she was.

“Ahhh, I’ve missed this too,” Yuna told him as he slowly began working his dick in and out of her.

Despite Yuna laying on top of her, Yeji was feeling left out of the action. She reached up and gave Yuna’s hard brown reddish nipples a tweak. Yuna let out a bit of a yelp when she felt her nipples suddenly being played with.

“Oh, oh, wow, already, ugghhh,” Yuna moaned. It had only been a few minutes, but Yuna was so aroused even before Minho had his cock in her that it didn’t take long for her to reach the point of near orgasm. She grunted as her pussy gushed as she came, dripping down onto the bed she soaked the bedsheets beneath her. Minho pulled out of her and Yuna rolled over onto her back.

“That was a good one,” she said, sounding satisfied.

“You know, I was on the verge of something close to that before you interrupted us earlier,” Yeji said, reminding the other two that she two was still on the bed.

“I can help you out with that,” Minho replied.

“You, better,” she told him. She had him lie down on the bed and was quick to get on top of him. She was quick to sink down on his dick and began riding him. While she was on top of him, Yuna slid next to him.

“Doesn’t she have the cutest nipples,” Yuna whispered to Minho as she watched her friend methodically grind on her snatch on top of him.

“Yeah, she does,” he agreed, as he reached up and cupped her tit and ran his thumb back and forth over her small nipple. Yeji moaned as she felt her tits being played with. Minho groaned as Yuna kissed the side of his neck. Having one idol ride him while the other kissed and rubbed his chest made him even more excited. He then grabbed Yeji’s hips and started thrusting his cock up into her. Yeji’s moans were getting louder as he fucked her hard and fast. After a few minutes, he flipped her over. Once again Yeji was on her back with Minho between her legs. She raised her legs and spread them wide as he pushed back into her. Just like the afternoon, Minho and Yeji were doing it missionary. However this time, Yuna was right there with them.

After stripping off her shirt and removing her pants completely, Yuna went back and forth kissing both of them. Now with Yeji on her back, Yuna’s hands roamed over her friend’s chest, playing with her tits. Looking over at Yuna, Minho could not help himself from reaching over and pushing two fingers into her tight cunt. He fingered her for a minute before pulling his fingers out and sucking them clean. Minho remembers the first time he ever went down on Yuna, and he couldn’t believe how good she tasted and still tastes just as good now as she did then. He then pushed his fingers right back into her, which caused Yuna to moan right into Yeji’s mouth as they made out.

After several more minutes, Yeji got the orgasm she desired, but Minho still continued to pound her pussy. He thought about pulling out and driving back into Yuna, but she whispered something in his ear that made him change his mind.

“Are you close,” Yuna asked between neck kisses she was giving Minho.

“Kind of,” he grunted.

Yuna then moved right up beside his ear, “Cum in her,” she whispered, giving him a devilish smile. Unlike Yuna, Yeji almost always made Minho use a condom when they hooked up. He was so caught up in the moment that when he switched between the two women, he didn’t think about a condom. Now that he had noticed it, he was becoming increasingly aware of how her pussy felt around his cock. He then began fucking her faster, harder.

“Ohh ahnn, fuck!” Yeji called out in response to him taking things up a notch.

“That’s it, Minho,” Yuna encouraged. “Fuck her good, and fill her.”

“Fill me?” Yeji asked. “Wait, condom.” You’re not wearing a condom?

“No,” He informed her.

“Ahh…shit…” she said.

“Just let it happen. You know you want it,” Yuna advised Yeji. She thought for a moment, as Minho continued to rail her.

“Fuck it…” she gave in.

“Slut,” Yuna giggled at her.

Minho’s response was to grab Yeji’s legs from out on the side and move her legs up over her head. He continued fucking her hard as he had her folded in half.

Yuna repositioned herself behind Minho as she watched her friends fuck. She encouraged him.

“Stop holding back and do it, she wants it, breed her.”

He could feel her tits pressing into his back, her hands moving around his body, and her lips working on his neck and shoulder between whispering into his ear.

He looked down at Yeji’s face as he thrust into her. He could feel the build-up rising in his balls, and the look on her face said that she was closing in on another orgasm as well.

“I- I’m gonna cum,” he announced, giving Yeji one last chance to back out. She just gave him a simple acknowledgment nod as she moaned. He gave three more pumps before burying his cock deep inside her.

“Oh god, Minho,” Yeji moaned as she felt the steady stream of cum filling her unprotected womb.

When he did finally stop and did pull out, Yuna was right there to polish his dick clean of the mix of his and Yeji’s cum. Though Yuna did have ulterior motives as well. Even after she had given his cock a spit shine, she still kept blowing him for a bit longer, not giving his dick any chance to go down at all. Once she felt his cock twitching in her mouth, she knew he was ready to go.

She had Yeji move up on the bed and then she laid down herself between Yeji’s legs. Yuna then went to town on her friend’s well fucked pussy, freshly full and leaking with cum.

Yuna then lay on her stomach in front of him. He knew she loved to do it prone, and he had an open opportunity to do that, but he was going to put that on hold for a minute. He had already creampied Hwang Yeji; there was no way he was not going to do it to Shin Yuna as well, but first, he was going to eat that pussy.

Minho got down low and spread Yuna's legs. Feeling him move her, she gave up little resistance and allowed him to move her body as he pleased. With her legs now open, he then spread Yuna's ass with his hands, allowing him deep into her while burying his tongue.

For the next several minutes, the three of them were laying in a straight line. Minho laying on his stomach eating Yuna out, who was laying on her stomach eating out Yeji, who was on her back. Yeji was the first to cum, as she cried out while grabbing onto the bedding which between sweat and cum was becoming wetter and wetter.

Before Yuna could have one of her own, Minho pulled away from her. She let out a disappointing groan. That groan was soon replaced by a sudden squeal from the petite idol as she felt Minho wedge his cock into her cunt. Yuna was still eating her friend even after Yeji orgasmed, However, she soon became too distracted to continue. She almost had an orgasm from his tongue as he took her prone on the bed.

“Yes, Minho, keep going,” Yuna moaned.

She was now holding onto the bed tightly. She was so close that she began rocking her body back into him. It was only a matter of time, Minho could feel the buildup happening, and then suddenly she popped. Yuna cried out and once again she drenched the bed below her as her body twitched in orgasm bliss. Minho pulled out as soon as he felt her cumming. God knows he loved that feeling from her, but he loved it a little too much and was not ready to be done with her.

While Yuna was cumming, and then coming down from her high, Yeji moved in and she repeated what Yuna had done and sucked his cock clean of the other’s juiced. Once she had sucked him clean, both Minho and Yuna were ready to take things to the next step.

Neither were usually much for reverse cowgirl, but there was a full-length mirror across from the bed and on the far wall. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Yuna on top of him. She sat right on his cock and began to bounce on it. The two of them are looking at each other in the mirror. She has a bright smile on her face and her perky tits are shaking as she bounces up and down on his dick. For the first two minutes or so, Minho is just happy to observe Yuna. Putting aside the sensation of her tight pussy gripping his dick as it moved up and down the shaft, seeing a naked Yuna bouncing like this made him feel extremely lucky.

Eventually, he did get into the action, brushing her hair over to one side, and then moving his hands around her body. One hand when north to cup her breast and the other traveled south between her legs. As she had done to, him, he began kissing the side of her neck as he rubbed her clit and tweaked her nipple.

“You know this was what I was thinking about when you were on stage, right?” he said into her ear. “As good as you looked on stage, I couldn't stop thinking about your sexy body and how you'd look doing all that without anything on.”

“That’s why you got hard?”

“Um-hm,” he said as he kissed her neck. “And then my mind went to how much missed the feeling of cumming inside your tight pussy.”

“Maybe you should stop thinking about it and do it already,”

“You want that?” He asked her.

“You know I do,” she moaned. Minho had her spin around. She was now sitting on his lap, facing him, with her legs wrapped around his back. With their faces just inches apart now, they began making out as they fucked. Yuna rolled her hips while on top of him. He did not give her any warning before cumming. He just moaned into her mouth as they kissed and let it go. Exploding his load into her. When she felt him cumming, she moaned right back to him and her nails dug into his shoulder. Even as he was cumming she continued to move her hips until she got off once again as well. After they finished, they moved back and laid on the bed next to Yeji, who had been fingering herself while watching her friends fuck .

The three of them all lay in a pile in the guest bed for a few minutes, catching their breaths and coming down from the sexual high. Yuna suggested that if they were going to go to sleep, they should all go to her bedroom. She didn’t say why, but they all knew the why. Between sweat, cum, and vaginal fluids, the sheets on the guest bed were at a minimum moist, and in spots were just flat-out soaked. So they got out of the guest bed and headed to the master bedroom, but before getting back into bed it was suggested that they should all take a quick shower first.

While they washed the sex off of each other, there was a significant amount of bumping, grinding, and touching as they shared the shower. Some of it was unintentional, some of it not so much. The bumping increased as Minho’s shaft swelled to its full size. Yeji and Yuna enjoyed teasing him.

Although the teasing from the two pretty idols was becoming a little too much for him. He finally snapped when Yeji dropped the loofa and bent down with her straight legs and her ass pointed right at him as she went to pick it up. He couldn’t help himself and quickly moved right up behind her and thrust half his cock into her.

“Ahh! Fuck!” Yeji yelped in surprise.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he told her as he pushed the rest of his cock inside of her. She said nothing, so he began fucking her. Yeji raised back up a bit and put her arms out to brace herself against the shower wall. Yuna was not going to be left out of the action. She moved to the side of both Yeji and Minho. With one hand she pulled his face down to kiss her, and with her other hand, she moved it between Yeji’s legs and teased her clit.

“Oh god, seriously Yuna?” Yeji moaned and questioned her friend as she felt her love button being played with. Not to leave her out, Minho moved a hand between Yuna’s legs and fingered her while the two of them made out as he fucked Yeji. With the two of them working on her, Yeji did not last long. She let out a moan and her leg buckled as she came. Minho grabbed her around her waist to make sure she did not fall.

Once she was steady on her feet, Minho pulled out of her and turned to Yuna. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and leapt up. Minho grabbed her body and quickly had his cock completely embedded in her. As they fucked, Yeji gave herself another long rinse under the shower spray before leaving the stall.

“You two have fun,” she said then gave him a long loving kiss. “Thanks for today,” she told him before stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel.

Meanwhile, Yuna and Minho were lost in their own lust-filled world, aggressively fucking against the glass of the shower stall. Yuna had her back against the glass with hands holding onto the top of the shower above, and her legs over his shoulder. The two were going at it, until Minho tried to readjust his stance and almost slipped on the shower floor, nearly bringing them both tumbling to the floor.

After that, they briefly stopped what they were doing, turned off the water, and exited the shower. They did not move far as they set up right on the large bathroom countertop. Yuna stood in front of the counter and bent down at the waist, pushing her ass back against him. He quickly got behind her and lifted her leg onto the counter before sliding his manhood straight back into pristine her pussy. As they fucking on the counter they maintained eye contact nearly the entire time through the mirror.

“God, Yuna. You feel so fucking tight” he groaned.

“Ehm-mm, anhhh, fuck…”

“I can't hold out for much longer.”

“Cum inside me...pleaseee, Anhhh…”

“Turn around!” he said.

Yuna had barely gotten her foot on the floor when Minho grabbed her hips, spun her around, and lifted her onto the counter. He quickly inserted his cock back into her. After two more pumps, Yuna expressed her desire for him to unload inside of her.

“Now Minho, do it now!” She demanded him and his cock busted, and that feeling got Yuna to hit her climax as well. They both came hard. He moved in to kiss her, and they exchanged a series of kisses, as euphoria from their orgasms died down. They cleaned up a bit and went into the bedroom and saw Yeji sleeping in the bed. Minho had to work the next morning and debated heading to his hotel at that point in the night.

Yuna asked him to stay and when he was still on the fence, she promised him a morning blowjob before he left. That made his decision an easy one. He set his alarm for a few hours and got into bed with his two idols friends. Yuna slept on her side in the middle of the bed facing Yeji, while Minho slept on the other side spooning Yuna.

Yuna kept her word and gave him a blowjob when his alarm went off the following morning. Minho got a great start to the day before heading to his hotel room for a quick shower and change of clothes before heading out to work.

—

Yuna called him later that night.

“Hey, do you mind coming over on Friday and taking Hongsam for a walk after you’re done with work? I can leave a key for you at the front desk.”

“On Friday? Yuna you know that’s my last night here. I was planning on going out with people after work.”

“I know, but I thought you could help me out and then we can do something after the show.”

“So you want me to take your dog out and then just hang out at your place alone for a few hours?”

“Yes, but I would put it as more as, I was hoping you’d be waiting in my bed… preferably with your pants on the floor.”

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side

The Arcane brainrot remains strong, and is apparently strong enough to make me write a fic twice as long as usual. Dammit Silco

Summary: Silco receives reports of an enforcer in Zaun beating the chem-barons at their own game and goes to investigate. He doesn't expect to see a ghost of his past.

It's always on the bridge that his life-changing moments happen. First it was Felicia's death, then Vander's betrayal. Now…now it was you, trading your life for his, pushing him away as enforcers moved towards the both of you.

Go, your lips mouth as your dagger sinks into the throat of the enforcer closest to him. You rip the blade out, causing blood to spurt from the wound and whirl around to face the others, shouting a challenge to draw their attention away.

His feet remain rooted to the ground, throat dry as he watches enforcers crowd around you, hears your war cries as you turn into a deadly whirlwind of steel and suddenly Sevika is dragging him away, eyes hard. Your cries get softer as Sevika hauls him further and further away from you, until he can no longer hear you anymore, nor see you.

No, he can't lose you too. Not after everything, not after what he's promised you. Not when the reality of Zaun is so close at hand —

"—co! Silco!" He blinks slowly, raising his head. Sevika stands before him, her flesh hand on the table supporting her as she leans forward, staring right at him.

"What is it, Sevika?" He groans, noticing the fallen pieces of paper that he will have to reorganise later.

"There have been reports of an enforcer single-handedly cutting their way through Zaun. All the chaos has been affecting business and the chem-barons have been complaining."

"Are they all that useless? One enforcer is giving them so much trouble?" Silco rubs his temple. As if the chem-barons themselves aren't enough of a problem already, now they're handing him more problems to deal with.

"The enforcer apparently knows all the ins and outs of Zaun or something," Jinx chimes in from her perch atop the rafters. She lazily rolls over to look at Silco, playing around with her latest grenade, grinning down at him. "Disappearing into the alleys only to pop out again when everyone least expects it and kills everyone."

Silco frowns, how would an enforcer know Zaun's streets well enough to trick chem-barons? The only plausible explanation he can think of is that someone had given the enforcer a map, and a traitor in their midst was an thorn he had to remove with haste.

"I suppose I will have to clean up after them once again," he sighs. "Sevika, track this enforcer down. Follow their movements, take note of anyone they meet and report back."

"Understood." With that, his ever-loyal right-hand exits his office, leaving him alone with Jinx.

"You know," she hops onto his desk, "that enforcer looked rather familiar."

Silco raises an eyebrow at her, and she smirks, knowing she has stolen back his attention. "They looked a lot like…someone…what was their name again?"

Silco turns back to his stack of paperwork when she falls silent once more and Jinx rummages through a drawer, only to slam it shut with a loud bang that echoes all around the room. She lunges forward, deft fingers quickly finding the thin chain around his neck and pulls on it, hard.

"They had this hanging around their neck too." She whispers. "Sounds familiar?"

No. No, it couldn't be. You — you were gone, dead, lost to the enforcers that day on the bridge. It couldn't be you, it had to be an imposter, there was no way — he had to see it for himself. He had to know, had to confirm it with his own eye.

"Are you sure?" He asks calmly, careful not to break his facade. He had to remain rational, control his emotions for this could be a trap laid by Piltover, but how would they know about you? Too many questions, not enough answers. He could wait for Sevika's report, he had patience.

Jinx lets go of the chain, sliding off his desk. "I saw it myself. You can't miss it, dangles from their neck like an obnoxious piece of jewellery."

Silco's eye widens slightly. There is no doubt about it, it really is you, but how? How had you survived the fight, the riots, and why didn't you come back to Zaun? To him? His fingers curl around his cup as he searches for the answer in his past. You'd promised to be by his side, and he thought that promise lost when he was separated from you that day, but you were very much alive. Had you lied? Yet another question to ask when he got his hands on you.

Jinx notices the twitching and frowns. Silco was clearly hiding something from her, and she didn't like it when he did that. She leans forward, "who are they to you?"

"Someone I may know," he answers, pushing Jinx away. "Don't you have better things to do than bother me?"

"Hmph," Jinx pouts, annoyed that she isn't getting a proper answer. "They're clearly someone you were close to, otherwise they wouldn't have that ugly ring."

Silco sighs, picking up the topmost paper from the pile, "Not anymore. Now go and tinker with something else or make yourself useful and help Sevika track the enforcer down."

Jinx groans but exits the office, leaving Silco alone with his thoughts. Was the enforcer really you? How were you still alive? He plays with the ring hanging around his neck, remembering the day you had presented him with the ring. It hadn't been anything special, fancy or big. Just a simple gesture of shoving a box into his hand and telling him to open it.

"What's this?"

"A surprise gift! Open it!" You grin at him, clearly rather excited about his reaction to whatever that gift is. He frowns, mind cycling through possible pranks you could pull with this 'surprise gift' of yours and stares at it suspiciously.

"I told you it'd backfire," Vander chuckles, cleaning a glass. "You can't escape that reputation of yours."

"Oh come on! I'm not that bad…am I?" You blink owlishly as the two men stare at you incredulously. "…I see. Thank you both for the votes of confidence."

"You're welcome," Silco drawls, suppressing a chuckle of amusement as he pulls the box closer. "You're going to clean up whatever mess comes of me opening this box, understand?"

"I swear there will be no mess!" You pout, slumping onto the table. Vander laughs, ruffling your hair, "I can vouch for her this time, Silco."

"Fine," Silco sighs, but still braces himself as he opens the box — to reveal a simple metal band resting on a cushion.

"So, gonna marry me or —"

"How did you get this?" Silco lifts the ring into the light, studying it. There are carvings set in the metal, your initials and his, bringing a smile to his face as he reads it. "And yes, I am 'going to marry you', don't fret."

"Yes!" You whisper-yell giddily, excitedly bouncing around the bar. Vander pours three drinks, pushing two towards Silco and you while drinking the last one, chuckling. Silco rolls his eyes, taking the cup offered by Vander and throws his pen at you. You yelp as the pen hits you squarely in the forehead and then chuck the pen right back at him.

Silco calmly dodges your terrible aim, taking another sip from his cup, "are you going to answer my question or not?"

"I stole it!"

"I don't believe you."

"What?!" You flop onto the floor dramatically. "The man I love doesn't believe me, it's over."

"Who did you steal this from?" Silco slips the ring onto his finger, then takes it off again. It's far too loose. "I'll need to hang this around my neck."

"Uh…a jewellery merchant I happened across a couple days ago."

"And you didn't even check the ring size."

"I'm supposed to know your ring size?" You snort, moving over to the counter top.

"I don't know, are you?" Silco leans in close, swiping your drink.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Silco simply smirks at you as he drinks half before handing it back, "too slow."

"Give that ring back! I'm reverting my decision, you drinks thief!"

"It's mine already, I'm afraid I'm not keen on parting with it." Silco quickly glances around, ensuring no one is looking before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "Although I could make it up to you with a return gift."

"Oh? Better not disappoint me then, Sil~" You grin, capturing his lips into a full kiss, which he returns.

"Have I ever, love?"

He tucks the ring away upon hearing his office door open, revealing a scowling Sevika who has a couple of scratches.

"They got away, sorry," she grunts, "but I did find out who they are. It's Y/N. They really are alive."

"How?" Silco growls.

"Don't know, but they don't remember me. Don't know if they'll remember you." She frowns. "Going in alone is stupid, don't you dare think about it."

"I wasn't." Silco sits back down, pinching the bridge of his nose. There's a weird ache in his chest, a pull that tries to drag him out of his office but he forces it back down. He can't let his emotions take a hold of him, there is much he doesn't know about your situation, going after you right now is far too risky.

Still, he takes a different turn during his usual nightly routine, entering an alleyway and takes out a cigar, lighting it. He lets the ring around his neck dangle outside his clothes, the silver reflecting what little light exists at this time of day. A ring of smoke floats into the air, disappearing into the cold night sky as footsteps sound from his left.

"About time you showed up, you've always been late whenever I wasn't around to haul you out of bed." Silence greets him, save for the click of a gun and Silco turns to face you. "Silence really doesn't suit you."

The gun lifts, pointing right at him and he simply stares back. A finger curls around the trigger, pressing it down slightly but he remains unfazed.

"Y/N." He can see the ring that hangs around your neck now, a simple gold coloured band hanging from a thin silver chain. He remembers the day he gave it to you, the way you took great care of it every day, but now it hangs tarnished from your neck, stained and rusted. "It's dirty."

He reaches over, pressing his chest against the barrel of the gun and inspects the ring. He can easily get rid of the rust that has set in, scrub away the dirt but returning it to its former shine will be quite impossible. He clicks his tongue, annoyed and lets go of the ring lifting his gaze to meet your empty eyes. "Let's go home."

The gun doesn't go off, your finger falling from the trigger when you see the ring hanging around his neck, images flashing through your mind. Memories that feel familiar and alien at the same time roar in your head, confusion eating away at you and you drop your gun, clutching at your head. Your chest tightens, lungs refusing to inhale the oxygen you need and your heart thunders in your ears.

No no no no no.

"Breathe." A deep voice cuts through the haze. "In and out. Focus on my voice, follow my instructions. I will not lose you again."

You force your lungs to cooperate, following the instructions step by step, encouraged by the gentle deep voice until your vision refocuses.

"Silco," you whisper shakily. "Silco."

"I'm right here," he murmurs, arms wrapping around you.

"I —"

"Hush now, love. Everything's alright."

"No, it's not. I nearly — I — Sevika —" Panic bubbles to the surface but Silco quickly steps in before the situation can spiral.

"Sevika is alright. You held back enough for her to escape with a few scratches." He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You're back, with him, in his arms. Silco tightens his grip, hugging you closer. It can't be a dream, such a dream would be far too cruel.

"They took me, suppressed my memories, Silco I —" You choke out a sob, tears silently flowing down your cheeks. His heart aches at the sight, it always has whenever he saw you cry.

"But they could never take away our love." He presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your new scent. You smell like Piltover, a weird freshness, a hint of lavender that doesn't suit you in the slightest, and that disgusting blue clashes with the colour of your eyes. Your hair is no longer as rugged, it's combed neatly and Silco ruffles it, running his fingers through the strands like he used to.

He kisses you until your breath smells like cigars, throws his jacket over your shoulders and bundles you in it until he's satisfied he can't smell the Piltover stink anymore then presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. You smell like ash now, like the smoke that fills Zaun's air and he allows himself a small smile. The only trace of Piltover left now is the blue uniform but that has to wait until the both of you are home.

You're back now, with him, safely in his arms, and that's all that really matters. You, by his side once more, keeping the promise you had made to him years ago.

Don't worry, I'll be by your side, always.

[lovegalor333]

Reader is ovulating in Paige’s bed and while Paige is playing a video game. Reader can’t help but get turned on by the sight of Paige’s thigh. You can make it like teasing to smut. (Here’s a photo that inspired this)

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

ovulating (paige x reader)

summary: based on the requests above

content warnings: nsfw smut thigh riding munch paige fingering

Your girlfriend was completely engrossed by another game of Fortnight, despite telling you she was just going to play one. She was slouched back in her gaming chair, controller gripped in her hands, legs spread wide and you couldn’t peel your eyes away. She was wearing her usual uniform of UConn gear, shorts and a t-shirt but today she had a pair of compression shorts on beneath her regular loose fitting ones. And my God, the way they clung to her perfectly toned thighs made you feel naughty things in naughty places.

You always knew when you were ovulating because you got like this…frustrated. It made you feel like a horny teenage boy, the way you yearned to be touched. Just the sight of Paige sat in front of you had you squeezing your legs closed in an attempt to relieve the building pressure.

“Paige…” You murmured from your place on her bed, the ache inside you was carnal and you wanted her attention.

“Yes, baby?” She replies, her eyes never once straying from the illuminated screen in front of her.

“Are you amost done?” You whine, not wanting to beg but trying your best to make it clear that you were bored of watching her play a game you had zero knowledge of.

“Almost.” She gives you a short, clipped response and you rolls your eyes even though she can’t see you.

Lucky for you, you knew your girlfriend very well and you knew it wouldn’t take much to have her focused on you. You stand up from the bed, reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra, leaving you in a thin tank top, pierced nipples poking through the material. You drop the bra to the floor and take calculated steps until you’re next to Paige. Her eyes flick towards you as she notices your presence and you pout at her, fluttering your lashes in the process.

“What’s up baby?” She asks, pulling you to sit on her lap sideways and she wraps her hands around your waist, continuing to play her game, “You’ve been playing for ages.” You grumble, your hand coming up to toy with the chain around her neck. “You said you were tired, thought you were going to take a nap.” That is true but you’re not tired anymore, “Well I’m not tired anymore. I’m horny and I want you.” You say, no longer caring to be coy about the feeling in your cunt because the way her arms were wrapped around your waist, veins pertruding as she pressed the controller, voice low and husky, you couldn’t contain yourself.

Paige chuckles, finally averting her gaze from the screen to look at you, “How bad do you want me?” She teases, eyebrows raised.

“So bad.” You practically whimper, eyes locked onto hers.

“Show me baby.” She instructs and you stand from her lap, taking her hand in yours and shoving it between your legs, pressing it against the warm, wet material of her boxers you were wearing.

“Oh shit.” She breathed out, swiping up and rubbing a quick, tight circle to your clit. Your legs almost buckle beneath you but she pulls her hand away and goes back to grasping the controller, “Let me just finish this game and-“

“No Paige! No, that’s not fair. I’ll fuck myself if you don’t.” And you mean it, the burning in your core was pushing you to your breaking point, you could scream.

“Go ahead.” Paige says nonchalantly and you huff and turn to walk away but she grabs your wrist, “Uh uh,” she shakes her head, “right here.” She taps her thigh. Her smooth, muscular thigh, “and keep those on.” She points to her boxers on your body.

Usually you wouldn’t let Paige have so much control but with the way you were feeling, you’d do anything she said.

You spread your legs, lowering yourself onto Paiges thigh, the initial contact made you gasp, “Oh.” You whimpered in relief before you started to buck your hips back and forth creating friction between Paiges leg and your throbbing cunt.

“Shit.” You groan, head falling to Paiges shoulder, lips connecting to her neck. You suck and nip at the sensitive skin below her ear, “Come on, P. I need you.” You mumble into her ear but she pays you no mind, “You can feel how wet I am. I know you can.” You grind harder and faster on her thigh, your slick undoubtedly leaking out onto her.

Paige was playing a game, literally and figuratively and while say may get a Victory Royale, you were also going to get what you wanted.

Without breaking your stride, you pull your tank top up and over your head, exposing your chest. Your tits bounced with every movement and it took mere seconds for Paige to be completely focused on you, controller discarded on her desk.

Her eyes were boring into your jiggling tits and without any warning she latched her lips to your pierced nipple, swirling her tongue in small circles. You smirked, knowing you had won before a low moan escaped your lips. Paiges tongue was for sure your favourite thing on this earth.

“Need more…want these off.” You mumble, pulling at the waistband of your her boxers.

“So impatient today, huh?” Paige taunts, with an annoying smirk on her face, “Paige, please.” You don’t care that you’re begging now.

“Because you asked so nicely.” And she lifts you effortlessly by your hips, placing you on her desk, her slender fingers hook into the waistband of her boxers and she pulls them down revealing your soaked cunt, “Holy shit ma, prettiest pussy.” She complements before running two fingers up your folds and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, “And the wettest.” She adds, admiring your slick that coated her fingers.

She lifts your legs, resting one on each of her shoulders before finally burying her face into your cunt. You gasp as her tongue moves in slow, sensual strokes, “Oh my God.” You breathe out, your hand finding her head. She quickens her pace flickering and swirling around your clit and through your folds. After riding her thigh, you know you’re not going to last long.

“Shit Paige, keep going.” You whimper, bucking your hips against her face, desperately. She looks up at you through her lashes and her eyes glint with mischief before she ploughs two fingers into you. The moan you let out is nothing short of animalistic and as she hammers into you, mouth latched onto your swollen clit, you see stars.

“Fuck- ugh- I’m gonna- gonna cum.” You announce, voice breathy and thick.

Your words only spur Paige on and she adds a third finger, stretching you out and you grip onto her desk as your legs begin to shake and your stomach tightens.

“Shitshitshit!” You cry out, thighs squeezing around Paiges head as she works to bring you to a shattering orgasm.

“Fuck.” You rasp out, legs going limp over your girlfriends shoulders. She looking up at you now, chin glistening with your juices and her fingers still work inside you, bringing you down from your high.

“You taste so good baby. I know you ovulating.” She muses, tongue running over her swollen lips.

“You can taste that?” You asks breathlessly, chest still heaving.

Paige nods and she slips her fingers out of you earning a small whimper, “Open.” She says before stuffing her sticky fingers into your mouth. You suck on her them, moaning at your taste, Paige was right, it tasted different from usual. Sweeter. Sexier.

Paige pulls you back on her lap, not caring that your probably dripping all over her shorts, you nuzzle into her neck and she presses a kiss to your head, “Satisfied?” She whispers into your ear and you nod, “Uh huh.”

“Let me get you right.” You say, pulling back to look at Paige, “I’m good baby. I know you must be tired now. Let’s get you cleaned up and go to bed.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[natalievoncatte]

“Today?” Kara said, “really?”

There was a silence in the house, as a pall had fallen over it. Everyone was gathered for the festivities and the turkey in the oven was filling the house with a delightful scent that made Lena’s mouth water. Thanksgiving was supposed to be the one day that Lena could forget about her waistline and just indulge herself. She’d been “helping” Eliza along with Alex and Kelly and Nia while the boys and Kara were out back tossing a football and pretending that she and J’onn didn’t have an outrageous advantage over Brainy and James.

Now Kara was standing in the living room as the news broke in over the football game and announced that a rampaging alien was tearing apart Rio de Janiero.

“Guys,” Kara said solemnly, “I have to go.”

Lena’s heart sank. She knew better than to protest. Kara had already glumly removed her glasses and was about to go grab her suit. Lena reached out and curled a hand around her bicep.

“Please be careful, darling.”

Lena could feel eyes on her back, Eliza and Alex and Nia all watching, silently urging one of them to just finally make a damned move. Lena *lived with her*, for God’s sake, and had since she sold her penthouse. They shared breakfasts and Kara gave her foot rubs and still they were stuck in this maddening limbo without defining what and who they were and it seemed neither dared to ask.

Lena knew what she wanted the answer to be, and how it ached inside her.

Kara glumly trudged down the stairs in full Supergirl regalia, regal and imposing as ever and just as beautiful. Since she’d revealed her identity to the world she’d been freed from the constraints of having to disguise herself, and a few months ago had buzzed the left side of her head, having trimmed the rest to shoulder length, and Lena longed to run her fingers over the fuzz.

She’d also altered her suit again. It no longer had sleeves. Every time Lena saw her, it felt like her soul was going to escape her body.

Kara came over and put her hands on Lena’s arms.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Lena gulped down her anxiety.

“I can hear your heart, you know.”

“Just be careful. Please.”

Kara started to turn. Maybe it was the audience, maybe she was just tired of being mired in this thick tension between them. Maybe it was the wine. She grabbed Kara’s arm again and sprang forward to brush her lips against Kara’s cheek, dangerously close to Kara’s mouth.

“For luck.”

Kara’s eyes flew open wide and she gaped at Lena.

“I’ll be b-back,” she said, and swept out the door, cape billowing majestically.

God how Lena hated that cape, sometimes. It blocked the view.

What had been a festive gathering grew quiet. Everyone gathered around the television to see what was going on, save Eliza who politely excused herself to the kitchen, hiding tears that everyone politely ignored.

Lena joined her. She was making the gravy.

“A life of fighting isn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.

“Me either.”

They were alone in the kitchen and Eliza was whisking a roux as she waited for the raw flour smell to cook off.

“Lena, do you have feelings for my daughter?”

Lena swallowed hard, grabbing a knife to chop carrots for glazing so that she’d have something to occupy your hands.

Eliza’s voice was soft, something wistful in her eyes. “You must know how she feels about you.”

Lena had to stop to avoid slicing open her finger, almost feeling the touch of the blade. She cleared her throat.

“I do,” she admitted. “I very much do. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

Eliza nodded, utterly unsurprised. “Kara is very hesitant about delicate things. When she first started living with us, she used to rip doorknobs off and break things at random while she learned to control her powers. She’s probably told you about Streaky.”

“She has.”

Eliza began pouring stock into the pot, her whisk making soft scraping sounds.

“She’s still that way about everything. Afraid if she pushes too hard, she’ll break something.”

Lena nodded. It was at that moment that Alex stormed into the kitchen. “She’s back.”

Immediately, Lena rushed out into the living room. Kara trudged through the door, and sighed.

“He got a few good hits in but he’s contained.”

Lena could only stare. Her suit was covered in scorch marks and even worse, Kara was bruised, her knuckles especially battered. She smiled weakly.

“I just need a minute to clean up.”

With a deep sigh, Kara turned and headed upstairs.

Lena could feel the eyes on her before she glanced back. Eliza motioned a silent “Go”, and Lena went.

She knocked at the bathroom door.

“Lena?” said Kara.

She always knew. Super-senses.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Brief hesitation, then, “yes.”

Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Kara was washing her hands, the injuries already vanishing. Lena didn’t care. She took Kara’s hands anyway, gently washing them under warm water.

She then fumbled at the clasps and unhooked Kara’s cape, and folded it. It was surprisingly heavy, made of a dense material from her long lost home. Setting it aside, she rested her hand against Kara’s deliciously broad back, silently waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Kara said in a shaky voice.

Lena freed the tab of the hidden zipper and pulled, baring Kara’s expansive muscular back, and peeled the suit away from her shoulders. Kara had nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs on beneath. She finished shimmying out of the suit on her own.

Lena has seen Kara in bathing suits, or caught flashes of her changing, but this was different, somehow more intimate. There was a vulnerability, not just in the woman disrobing but in the goddess showing Lena her bruises. Lena gently touched a black and purple mark on Kara’s flank.

“This one hurt, didn’t it.”

“It always hurts. I can feel it, I just pretend I don’t.”

Lena looked up at her and met her gaze.

“Kara, may I kiss you?”

Kara blinked and Lena could actually feel her tremble.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lena rose on her tiptoes and pressed their lips together very softly, with a deliberate slowness. When Kara kissed her back and pulled her into a delicate embrace, hands bracketed low on her hips, Lena felt like she could fly.

Kara was looking at her in wonder.

“Was that for more luck?”

Lena felt bold. She had seize the moment now, before she lost her nerve and they fell back into tense limbo.

“Kara Danvers, if you want to, you can get very lucky tonight.”

Her eyes were wide and Lena grinned.

“I umm, I…”

Lena trailed a finger down the center of Kara’s muscular chest.

“Dinner is almost ready, darling. Take your shower. Just remember to save room for dessert.”

Kara favored her with a delighted smile as Lena stepped out of the bathroom and padded down the stairs.

When she reached the ground floor, everyone was pointedly focused elsewhere, either on the football game or cooking, and Kelly and Nia were playing cards at the dining room table.

Alexa, though, handed her a beer. Lena took it with a shaking hand.

“Fucking finally,” Alex whispered. “Just don’t get too loud tonight, okay? Go down to the beach if you can’t control yourself.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya too, sis-in-law,” said Alex.

“We’re not married yet.”

Alex tipped back her brew. “Six months, tops.”

Lena took a long pull on her beer and scowled.

(It ended up being four months)

[revelboo]

Could we have more for "Gravity"? 🙏 reader making it her life's goal to see robot dick as soon as she realizes it flusters OP is so me-coded and I'm living for it. I love your super serious emotional fics, but I also love the human being so unserious 🤭

Honestly, same. 18+ content

Gravity Pt 9

Optimus Prime x Reader

• Pacing outside the door of his habsuite, he runs a frustrated hand over his face. Trying to get himself back in control, because you don’t realize what you do to him. Asking about that. Had it only been curiosity or was it actual interest? Why is that difference so very important to him? And something he really shouldn’t be thinking about at all. You’re his to protect, considering anything else, wanting more, is wholly inappropriate.

• Sitting cross legged on the berth where he’d left you, there’s nothing to do but wait for him to come back. Who’d have thought that one not so innocent question would send him running? Know you should let it go, but that almost panicked look on his face is just so sweet. Like the big guy himself. And you’d been straight with him, if he’d been a human guy and treated you like he does, you’d have rode him until you’re both too exhausted to crawl out of bed.

• One more thing he can’t have. Accepting that, he lets himself back inside his quarters and finds you sitting on his berth eating that crunchy, dry food out of a box. “So you got some freaky alien stuff going on like double dicks or crotch tentacles?” Gritting his denta behind his mask as you just grin up at him, he vents tiredly.

• He almost looks like he’s in pain as he just straight up ignores the question. Apparently you’ve reached the limit of how much bullshit he’s willing to put up with. Silent, he begins moving the uneaten food and his half empty energon cube off the berth and sits beside you, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. Making you feel guilty about screwing with him. Especially since, realistically him abducting you probably saved your life given the path you were on. And you owe him more than you can ever hope to repay.

• “You know,” you say and he hears your little feet padding on the berth. Peeking at you, he watches you slowly spin. Dancing again and he wonders why you do that, your expression no longer teasing, but oddly empty. “The club I danced for, didn’t pay a lot. Sometimes if the customer looked like he had money, we’d have a private party.” Arms over your head, you turn so your back is to him. “And I always told myself it didn’t matter. That I didn’t care, because every dollar got me a little closer to getting the hell out of there.” There’s something under the resignation in your voice, something broken that makes his spark ache. Wishing he’d found you just a bit sooner, before life had scarred you.

• Wrapping your arms around yourself, you wish you could just shut up. Because telling him this, how dirty you really are? He’s not going to look at you the same way if you don’t stop. Won’t treat you the same way. And part of you knows that everything that’s wrong with your life is wholly your fault. Stubbornly doubling down again and again until there was no digging yourself out. You hear him shift behind you, a metallic rasp. Leaving again? Done with you?

• There’s an unsettling pull as he mass shifts, of willing himself smaller and burning so much energy all at once. And when he’d done, you’re still so much smaller than he is. Just this fragile little thing that still seems so unreal to him as he reaches out and pulls you back into him. Hearing your startled inhale as he catches your wrists in a big hand, unsettled that he can loop the servos of one hand so easily around both your little wrists. “You think I’m proud of every single thing I’ve done? That I haven’t made mistakes?” He asks and feels you shiver.

• Head craning to look over your shoulder and up at him, for once you can’t say anything at all. No smart ass comment or teasing. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he could do something like this. And he’s warm against your back, suddenly aware of him in a way you’d never been before. Those big hands achingly gentle on you. Has anyone ever touched you like that? Gently? It’s too much. Too real, sending you into a panic. “Please tell me it’s not crotch tentacles,” you blurt, hearing him make a noise suspiciously between a groan and a laugh as his other arm curls around you. Holding you closer.

Previous

Next

[nerdy-novelist017]

Perfect (Benny Cross x Shy! Reader pt 7)

The chapter we've all been waiting forrrr! 🤗 I won't lie to you, I'm slightly terrified to post this chapter, but you all are so kind. I hope this is everything you wanted it to be! 🫶

Benny X Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.8k (woah, got a little carried away)

Summary- You've lived your whole life according to what everyone else wanted you to be. Tonight would be the first night of your new life -- one where you decided who you were.

******

You took a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments in an attempt to calm your quickened pulse. You had spent the whole rest of the day yesterday thinking about nothing but your future. What was set in stone and what was up to you. You knew what you didn’t want, that much was clear to you now. But could it be possible to have what you wanted when you weren’t even sure if that was what you were?

By the time you had dressed and made your way downstairs for breakfast, you felt as though you were being torn in two. One side was what your head told you to do, the more sensical side. And the other was what your heart wanted to do, the more exciting side. You entered the kitchen where your mother stood at the stove, her hair still in rollers and an apron tied around her waist as she prepared breakfast. 

“Morning, Mama,” you greeted quietly as you approached her to help. Cooking breakfast was your usual routine with your mother, a time spent with secretive giggles and never-ending stories. It was a time where the two of you would be uninterrupted, consumed by only each other in your own world. A place where you would complain to her about your boy troubles at school or how the popular girls were mean to you that day. And as you grew older, and things like high school drama no longer seemed to matter, it became a place where you could talk to her about her life. Where she would tell you how to be mindful of the world around you as she taught you to make poached eggs. A place where she had mentioned numerous times how happy she was because of her family, because of you.  A safe place – home. 

“Morning, honey,” she replied as she shot you her usual cheerful smile. “Coffee’s on the table.”

You thanked her as you poured yourself a cup. You put your apron on and began to help with the homemade pancake batter. You were so lost in the endless sea of thoughts that when your mother mentioned a familiar name, you nearly spilled the bowl of batter. 

“What?” you asked as you looked over at her. 

“I said Pete came by, asking for you,” she repeated as she did a double take at your crestfallen expression. 

“He did?” you inquired in a small voice. “Did he . . . say anything?”

“He asked if he could speak with you. He seemed real insistent,” she laughed. “I had to tell him you were in the shower to finally get him to leave.”

At your silence, she continued hesitantly, “How did your date go?”

You sighed, “It was . . . okay.”

“He seems like a real nice guy.” 

You nodded weakly, feeling oddly reluctant to tell her what had happened at the golf course, the anger in his eyes, the sudden volume in his voice as he slammed his hands against the car.

She lowered the spatula she was using to stir the scrambled eggs, and she turned to face you fully. “Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” 

You nodded again but when you glanced up at her, you could see the disbelief in her eyes. You could fool a lot of people, but your mother was never one of them. 

“What’s going on?” she prodded in that controlled mix of gentle firmness that only mothers can conjure. You were silent for several long beats, unsure of how to vocalize your feelings. 

“I don’t think I want to go out with Pete anymore, Mama,” You admitted softly and being able to speak those words aloud for the first time felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off your shoulders so you go on, “I don’t like the way he treats me compared to others. I can’t see myself being married to him.”

She fell quiet for a few agonizing moments, and you worry that you might have said too much. You avoided her gaze, looking down at the raw batter in front of you as you tried to figure out how you can fix what you’ve just said. 

But then, “Is there someone else you met?”

You looked back at her face, your heart sinking at the sight of her serious, unreadable expression and your mouth suddenly felt too dry to speak. You only nodded. 

She looked down at her pan of eggs for a moment. “Was it that blonde boy? The one with the motorcycle?”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “How–?”

“I saw him drop you off last night,” she explained. “I was reading in my bedroom when I heard the engine pull up. And when I looked out the window, I saw the two of you standing there.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the realization that Benny was not a secret of yours anymore. He was living in your reality now, a figure to receive the scutanty of your parents, of your neighbors, of your family. The thought left a pit to form in your gut. 

“Your father will never approve of that, (Y/N),” she said, firmly shooting down your outlandish hopes. “You know that.”

“I know. I just . . . ” you trail off with a sigh as you sink into one of the chairs at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before, Mama. He’s fun and exciting. He just seems to understand me so perfectly. And the way he talks to me, the way he makes me feel about myself . . .”

Your mother abandoned her position at the stove to sit in the chair beside you. “That isn’t a practical choice, honey. It’s not going to guarantee you any stability for your future. I want you to have a good life, to live in a good house with a husband that has a good job. He isn’t that and who knows if he will ever be able to provide you with those things.”

You swallowed the painful lump forming in the back of your throat as you looked down at your lap, knowing that she’s right. 

Her hand slid across the table to grab yours tightly. “But I also saw the look on his face as he watched you walk up to the house. That look of pure devotion and love.” There were tears shining in her eyes as she struggled to speak. “And I realized I have never seen your father look at me the way that boy looked at you.” 

Your heart shattered at her admission, and you squeezed her hand tightly, stunned into silence. 

“All I want in life is for you to be happy. That’s all I want. Every time I see a shooting star or blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I make a wish for you to live a happy life.” She swallowed thickly as her eyes fluttered over your features. “I understand that your happiness might not look the same as mine, and that’s okay. Your father won’t approve of this, and you know how he gets. But I will always support you – always.”

“Oh, Mama,” your voice cracked as you stood quickly to wrap your mother in a tight hug. 

As you stood in the embrace of your mother’s arms, you realized it had been a long time since you had been consoled like this by her. And in this moment, you felt like a little girl again, still in need of your mother’s infinitely understanding advice and kind hugs. Muffled by her sweater, you whispered, “You make me happy, Mama.” 

“You make me happy too, my girl,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled back eventually, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you to choose the thing that will bring you happiness.”

You nodded and she reached out to wipe the tears that had fallen down your cheeks as she said, “Now, help me finish breakfast before those eggs start to burn.”

“Yes, Mama,” you laughed, sniffing as you watched her move back to the stove, noticing the undeniable actions of her swiping at her own tears as she did. 

And now you stand, at the threshold of someplace you’d never expected to be, you’re nervous, but sure of yourself. Thunder rolled through the sky as a storm brewed in the distance, and you almost laughed at the realization that you had successfully outran the storm, a strangely comforting irony. Releasing your breath, you push open the door before you could give it another thought. 

The inside of the Vandals clubhouse is bustling with people, more than you had ever seen in one small place. Cigarette smoke filtered through the air, covering the environment in a haze. Loud voices, glass clinking, cue balls clacking against the pool tables all mix together with the music playing from the jukebox in the back. Overwhelmed, you stand in the doorway for a moment, eyes scanning through the sea of bodies covered in the infamous Vandals colors. After a moment of hesitation and a brief thought of turning around and going back out the door you came in, you pushed on, sliding into the room like a boat into a river. Weaving your way through the packed bar, you passed a few tables where someone bumped into you as they stood from their seat. You apologized and tried to move by, but the unfamiliar man reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“Where are you off to, pretty little thing?” he asked, his voice slurring as he tried to grin at you but he must have been seeing double because his eyesight was staring at the spot over your right shoulder. Before you could respond, someone else from the table spoke up, his voice barely heard over the noise of the bar.

“Hey, I know you,” he said, his dark slicked back hair and clean shaven face familiar, but you couldn’t place his name. “You’re Benny’s girl.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words and you shrunk into yourself a bit, losing a bit of your already wavering confidence.

“It’s Wahoo,” he clarified as he too stood from his seat, moving to grab his drunk friend and pull him away from you. “Don’t let him bother you, he didn’t know who you were, was all.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. “Is Benny here?”

“Yeah, ’was over by the pool table in the back last I saw,” Wahoo responded as he pointed in the general direction. 

You tried to steady your pounding heart as you made your way to the back of the bar. Brushing into a temporarily clear path, that’s when your eyes found his tall, lean figure, that dirty blonde hair and wicked grin. Your steps faltered a bit. He hadn’t seen you yet, you could still turn around and go back to your ordinary life. But that wasn’t what you wanted anymore. You were scared, but you were here anyway. You approached the table where you saw other faces you recognized (Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Zipco and a few others whose names you hadn’t committed to memory yet) but none of them were your primary focus. 

Gail was the first to notice you nearing, and she elbowed her husband to get his attention as she said something you couldn’t quite detect in the loudness of the bar. But her commotion with Brucie garnered Johnny’s interest as he two turned to look at you, a smile breaking out across his face. Benny turned from his sidestance, his eyes scanning over the crowd in an attempt to see what was so important to distract the players while the game continued. His eyes roved over your face for a fleeting second, continuing on before jumping back to you in a flustered doubletake. 

Then suddenly, you were on the other end of the pool table, directly across from Benny who looked at you as though you were an apparition. You leaned your hands to rest against the pool table, trying to look more confident than you were as you felt the eyes of every person near the pool table on you. 

“Bunny?” Benny asked, almost speechless as he handed his pool stick off to Zipco. He rounded the table to be closer to you as he continued. “What–what are you doin’ here?” 

“I came to speak with you,” you respond, eyes glancing at the others around the table before landing on him again. “To ask you something.”

He got the hint loud and clear. “C’mon,” he said as he grabbed your hand in his own and pulled you through the room to the backdoor where he pushed it open and motioned for you to go first. 

It had already begun to rain lightly, tiny droplets hitting the concrete with a gentle pitter patter. The coolness of the outside air surrounded you in a pleasant way compared to the atmosphere inside. There were a few bikers out back smoking and talking, but Benny didn’t seem to mind their presence as he led you down the way, keeping under the dry safety of the overhang. 

“Is it always that busy?” you ask when you both stopped. With your back against the brick wall and Benny standing just in front of you, the overhang didn’t offer much room from the rain. But that didn’t seem to bother him either as his eyes were locked onto you despite the roof runoff hitting his jacket. 

“No.” He shook his head. “There was a convention in town today and most of those guys in there are from Columbus. I’m sure that’s pretty overwhelming for you.” 

Your heart fluttered at his gentle squeeze of your hand and you were acutely aware that he hadn’t let you go since pulling you along out here. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“Did you walk here?” he asked, and thunder rumbled somewhere behind him.

“No, I rode my bicycle,” you replied. “Bike, I should say, makes me sound cool like you guys.”

“You’re way cooler than me, Bunny,” he said, his voice low as he wore a lopsided smile.

You couldn’t help but mirror his expression as you looked up at him, realizing just how close the two of you were. The scent of his cologne tickled your nose in a way that sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. It was almost unfair, you realized, that he was so effortlessly attractive – he looked good, he sounded good, he smelled good – and you don’t think he even knew the effect he had on you. And he had the audacity to look at you like you were the gem. 

“What?” he asked after your beat of silence, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Nothing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you blurted out the question that had been burning inside you the entire ride here. “Do you want to go to California with me?”

“Right now?” 

“No.” You tried to cover your giggle. “I mean, some day. I do want to go. Remember when we talked about it?”

“I remember.”

Benny’s unwavering gaze caused your heart rate to speed up but you trudged on, “I’ve always thought it wasn’t a practical dream, that somehow it couldn’t be me who walked down the beach because I'd been too busy with school and then school became work and work would become marriage and keeping house.” Your carefully rehearsed speech began to fragment as you spilled your jumbled thoughts. “But I realized that is so silly because it’s my life, and I–I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. And I want to go to California to see the Pacific Ocean, and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.  So . . . what do you say?”

He stepped closer to you, his face just inches from yours, his voice incredibly gentle as he said, “I think I'd go just about anywhere you asked me to, Bunny. But are you sure it’s me who you’re wantin’ here?”

Your brow furrowed slightly at his response. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m not the kind of guy girls like you fall for. I’m the exact opposite.” His free hand reached out and brushed a tendril of your hair behind your ear as his voice dropped an octave. “But when I'm with you . . . I feel like I could do better. Like maybe I could be better. Not perfect, but something closer to worthy.”

“I’ve been perfect my whole life. Perfect grades, perfect smile, a perfectly quiet doll on the shelf.” You look at the biker standing before you. The exact opposite of what you’ve been surrounded by your entire life. The exact person you’ve been told to stay away from. But there were things that you noticed about him now that you hadn’t when you first saw him at the picnic. Those hands, calloused and scarred from years of fighting, were holding your own gently as if you were made of glass. That mouth, capable of verbally hurting just about anyone who got in his way, only ever spoke softly to you. Those eyes which have undoubtedly seen their fair share of the worst of humanity, gaze at you as if you were the moon. This man, the excitement you feel you’ve been unknowingly waiting for your whole life. You stepped closer to him, your noses brushing together softly as you whispered, “I don’t think I want perfect anymore.”

“What do you want, Bunny?” he asked, an unmistakable vulnerability in his raw voice. 

Your answer to him in nonverbal as you closed the gap between you, lips pressing against his softly. The world seemed to pause as you gently kissed Benny, your heart pounding in your chest. The kiss was soft at first, tentative as you both seemed to test the waters of something new and uncharted. Overcome by your overthinking, you began to draw back, but Benny’s palm cupped the side of your face, pulling you back to him with a more meaningful kiss. His lips were warm and rough, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand held yours early as he deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency that sent a wave of heat to fill your core. His hand moved to protect the back of your head as he backed you up to the cool brick of the wall behind you. 

Benny’s mind was racing with a whirlwind of emotions he wasn’t used to feeling. He had been careful, so careful, to keep his distance, to remind himself that a girl like you would never be with a man like him. He had hoped, prayed, that you might return even an ounce of his feelings for you, but he had to be realistic. You were a beautiful dream, so far out of his reach. But now with your lips on his, your fragile hands clutching the fabric of his jacket, he couldn’t deny the truth any longer. You were breaking down every wall he had built, showing him that just maybe, he was worth more than he believed. 

He had never kissed anyone like this before – with a mix of tenderness and passion that made his heart ache in a way that both terrified and galvanized him. He moved his hand down your side, gripping your hip tightly. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want this moment to end. Because in this kiss, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: hope.

He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t good enough– that his life was too rough, too messy for someone like you. But in this moment, as your breath mingled with his own and your heartbeat racing against his chest, he started to believe, even just a little, that he could be the man you saw in him. That he could be worthy of this, of you. 

Your lips parted slightly, and Benny took the invitation, kissing you with a newfound fervor, pouring all his sentiments into it – the longing, the fear, the hope. The connection between you felt electric, and for the first time in a long time, Benny didn’t feel lost. He felt found. Found by you, found by this moment. 

This is real, he thought almost in disbelief, She chose me. He could hardly comprehend it, but the evidence was right there in the way that you kissed him back with equal intensity, the way you clung to him as if he was the only thing grounding you. His lungs burned and he had to pull back, but he kept his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your cheek. I don’t deserve her, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, but for the first time, another voice – a stronger one– countered, Maybe I could someday. 

He opened his eyes, seeing the softness in your gaze, the way your parted lips were slightly swollen from the kiss. It hit him then, like a bolt of lightning. He wanted to be better, not just for himself, but for you. Because you deserved more than just a rough-edged biker, you deserved the world. And if you’d let him, Benny was determined to give it to you. 

“Was–was that okay?” you asked breathlessly, unsure if you’d done it right, but hoping he had felt what you couldn’t put into words. 

His eyes softened even more as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It was more than okay, Bunny.”

Your smile grew, a little more confident now, despite the heat tinging your cheeks. Suddenly the backdoor squeaked open and Brucie poked his head out the doorway. 

“Benny, you’re up to shoot, kid,” he said and must have seen the closeness of your bodies, the way Benny still held onto your waist because he smirked smugly. 

Benny didn’t even glance over. “Tell ‘em to hold my spot.”

“Pool?” you asked, tugging on his jacket lightly as Brucie disappeared back inside. 

Benny nodded, grinning lazily down at you. “Yeah, you ever played?”

You shook your head, feeling a little shy. “No, never. But . . . I’d like to try.”

He raised his eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You want me to teach you?”

You nodded, this time with more certainty. “I think I’d like that.”

He took your hand, leading you back inside as the rain continued to pour around you. As he lead you back into the bar, the noise and constant chatter engulfing you once again, you felt reassured by the steady warmth of his hand in yours. And he didn't let go of your hand even when you got to the table. A few members cheered and teased Benny, but he only smiled and shook his head, his focus on you, instead. He stood behind you, positioning you gently. 

“Here’s the thing,” he murmured, his voice low and just for you. “You don’t have to know everything right away. Sometimes it’s about the journey, not just the win.”

You looked over your shoulder with a small smile, your faces only inches apart. “I think I’m ready for the journey.”

Benny’s gaze gentled. “So am I, Bunny. So am I.”

-Tag List-

@ironmooncat @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @imusicaddict @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @m00npjm @justsomewritingblog @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @thedreamingfish99 @mrsalwayswrite @pearlstiare

[concretecultist]

Kingdom Come

summary: you ask Noah, your Dom best friend, for a big favor.

pairing: sub!fem!reader x dom!noah

word count: 7.4k

THIS IS PURE FICTION!!

warnings: 18+!! BDSM, restraints, slapping/impact play, light degradation, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, oral (f receiving), subspace

A/N: this was purely self indulgent. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🥰

~Berry🫐

Life was kicking your ass. Harder than normal and the weight of the world was getting harder the bear.

Your job sucked, your body ached all the time and the one guy who you thought was going to be it for you, ended up ghosting you. All of it was a slap in the face and it was even worse when your landlord calls you to let you know the water would be off for a couple weeks due to maintenance issues. You guess you could tolerate it since he’s reducing rent during the time that the water will be off.

So, once you find out this information, you’re calling your best friend to see if you can crash there for a while. He had no problem with it. He no longer had roommates and often found himself missing having someone around.

So when you arrived and got yourself situated after a steamy shower to wash the day off, you find yourself sitting beside Noah with a question burning a hole in your tongue.

“I know this idea is out there but,” you choke on the words and realize how ridiculous this sounds.

“What?,” he keeps clicking away at his controller as he played his game, not taking his eyes off the screen. When you don’t answer, he takes a peak over at you and can see you biting your lip so hard it looks like it’ll bleed.

“Stop doing that,” he paused his game and used his thumb to gently pull your lip down from between the grip of your teeth, “What’s going on. It’s just me, Y/N,”

You look to him, twiddling your thumbs and decide it’s all or nothing, if he says no you guys can just forget you ever said anything.

“I need to turn my brain off,” you blurt out.

“Okay?,” he shrugs as if there was nothing to it, “I can have Folio bring some weed by,”

“No, I-,” you throw your face in your hands, cheeks burning as you think about it, “You are in the…. the BDSM scene and I want you to help me turn my brain off,”

His mouth drops in an ‘o’ shape as it clicks what exactly you mean. His hesitation has you feeling so silly. You should have just showered, went home and rubbed one out.

“Sugar, I’m not exactly sure you know what you’re asking for,”

You were his little sugar cube. Too sweet to know exactly what his life entailed behind the scenes. You never really seemed interested in it before. But little did he know, you were just nervous to show it.

He could be mean at the request of his subs during sessions and you were requesting it now but you were his best friend and he didn’t want to cross that line unless you were 110% sure.

“N-no, no I do,”

He’s briefly talked about his sessions enough for it to cause a burning of desire in your gut. You’ve never been in the scene but with the way things are going lately, you just need to be taken care of, to be manhandled and you’d rather do that with someone you trust.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you mumble, humiliated now that you’d expect your hot, dom, best friend to do that for and to you, “I just made a fool of myself,”

The silence that he was giving after your initial ask was gnawing at your emotions, you just wanted to disappear right now.

“Sugar, it would be an honor but if we do this, there’s no going back because I’m going to want you forever,” his words spilled like the smoothest whiskey on the market. Sure, now this sounds like a typical cliche of friends to lovers but what’s wrong with that? Sometimes things like this are meant to become something more. Maybe that’s why long term relationship never worked for either of you… because you two were it for each other?

“Please,” your voice cracks with need. You had showered while he stayed on the couch playing a video game and yet your body is still tense.

“Follow me,” he stands tall before you, extending a hand in which you take easily. You could already feel some tension relieving from simply holding his hand.

He kept his pace slow, easy for you to keep up with as one of his steps equaled three of yours.

He had a spare bedroom that no one was allowed in, not even you and you guys had been friends for almost a decade now. So when he reached above the door to grab the key, you snatched your hand from his and took a giant step back.

“I can’t go in there,”

“Right, without my consent,” he peaked over his shoulder, “But you have that now and then some,”

You looked at him with wary eyes and he dropped his shoulders with a knowing sigh.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” his hands made their way onto your shoulders to deliver a comforting squeeze, “This is the way,”

One of his hands is gently cradling your cheek now and it’s so soothing that you can’t help but lean into it and he notices the way your eyes flutter.

He already knows you’re going to be so good for him tonight.

Noah leans his forehead down to yours and your lips are only a few centimeters a part.

“You trust me… don’t you, Sugar?,”

Immediately weak in the knees, noticing he’s already entering into his persona. You nod feverishly against him.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,”

A gentle peck on your lips has you leaning in for more when he pulls away.

“Take your hands off the wheel and let me drive,” is all he says before turning his back to you to unlock the door.

Time seemed to slow down when he pushed it open, a part of you wanted to close your eyes, still feeling nervous about seeing a space he deemed so private that he kept it locked up. Your hand is in his once more with him pulling you through the threshold as he flicks the light on.

Red fluorescent lights filling your vision.

It smells so good in here and you wonder how, considering what possibly goes down based simply off of what’s in here.

The bed frame looks like one luxurious bird cage, bolted to the floor and a sheer canopy draping over it. There’s bars hanging from the ceiling with cuffs hanging from them.

Open cupboards of different items like floggers, paddles then another filled with masks and gags, one full of toys. There’s a full fridge in here with a clear door and you can see different replenishing beverages and snacks.

This is his sex dungeon

“Something like that,” he spoke aloud.

Realizing your thoughts weren’t kept in your head you avert your gaze to the ground.

“I don’t use it much other than personal uses, any time I have a scene with someone I meet them at theirs. I’ve just been keeping this a secret until I found the one worthy to be in here,”

Your eyes widen as you raise your head to meet his.

“M-me?!,” poking yourself in the chest, “I… you mean me?!,”

His shoulders tremble in soft laughter, shaking his head at your disbelief.

“This entire time, I’ve just been wanting to bring you here but you never expressed any interest in the scene,” he played with your fingers in his grasp, something he always found comfort in doing.

“I didn’t know if you’d take me seriously. I’m not exactly… what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive,”

“You’re exactly what comes to mind,” he brings you to a plush crimson couch, covered in velvet material. When your ass meets the cushions, he’s reaching to a table beside you to light a candle, bringing it over with him as he lowers himself into his knees before you.

“I’m going to go over a few house rules while I get you relaxed okay?,”

You offer a simple nod and he smirks,

“Rule number one- I always need a verbal answer. I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination and possibly misread body language, got it?,”

Swallowing thickly you nod once more, “I understand,”

“Good girl,” his hands make their way onto your calves, kneading the tight muscles, causing an involuntary moan in which you try to subdue.

“Number two, don’t be shy,” he says plainly, “I know this is new but you know me and I’m here to keep you safe so don’t shy away from me. Be as vocal and as emotional as you need to be,”

“I understand,” you answer once more. Your eyes watch his hands, curious when he picks up the candle, the flame flickering in his eyes.

“Three. Trust that I will never hurt you outside of what you ask for,” he tips the candle and a quiet gasp leaves your lips, quickly turning into a moan when the wax drips onto your tired legs, Noah instantly setting the candle down and massaging it into your skin.

“Pheromone massage candles,” he answered your unasked question.

“Four. I usually go by King during these scenes but since this is new for you I don’t want you to feel detached from me so call me Noah until you feel comfortable, okay?,”

“Y-yes,” your eyes cross slightly while his thumbs work into the sore soles of your feet. This was helping so much and just from this simple interaction, your core is buzzing already.

“Five. If you need to stop or directions are not okay or unclear- speak up. I’m going to need you to pick a safeword for me,”

You squirm on the couch, becoming putty in his hands as they move from your feet to your calves and now your thighs.

“Kingdom,” you answer with ease, if he goes by King might as well make it coordinate right?

“Good one,” he plants a kiss by your knee, “Rule six, no negative self talk or thoughts. I may degrade you but I will always follow it up with praise. You are loved and cared about, you understand me?,”

“I understand,” you nod.

“Seven. Have fun and let go. We are here together so remember I will always catch you,”

With his last rule he spreads your thighs, squeezing them to get a reaction out of you.

“Do you have any rules for me?,” eyes dark yet caring in the red glow.

“Don’t hold back,” an embarrassing whimper escapes, “I know I’m a rookie but I can take it and I know you’ll take care of me just…,”

Your hands grab his, holding them tight so he knows how bad you need this.

“Just don’t hold back. I need it, I know I’m safe so I just need you to hurt me, I need you to help me turn my brain off and surrender myself to you,”

Your words from earlier echoed in Noah’s head and he thought they were a crock of shit.

I’m not exactly what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive

Bullshit. You were perfect.

He wipes his hands on a towel that he kept on the table with the candle, setting it and the candle back in their original spot when he was finished.

His hands are now sheltering your face because he can see your mind is still running a million miles a minute.

“What do you need from me right now?,”

You were embarrassed to say it.

“What were rules 2 and 7, Sugar?,” his voice pulled you from your own thoughts.

“To not be shy and to let go,”

He nodded in understanding, “So why are you breaking my rules and overthinking?,”

God, he was so good at this. The twinge of disappointment in his tone had your heart aching, you wanted to be good.

“Can.. c-can you smack me?,” your voice was barely a whisper and you knew he wouldn’t let that slide.

“Speak up, baby. Closed mouths don’t get fed,” his thumbs were rubbing such comforting circles on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but oblige.

“I need you to smack me,” it wasn’t a plea, it was a declaration.

Noah just reads your face. Studying your expression to see if there’s any doubt, any hesitation. He stands you up and then he leans in to kiss you with a sort of need that you’ve never been kissed with before. You two are breathing heavily in between and you can barely keep up. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, just wanting him to consume you.

He pulls away but before you can protest, you feel the searing heat of his open palm meeting your cheek. A gasp of surprise comes from you and yet again you’re left with no time to react when he does it again.

“Fuck,” you mewl, “More,”

He answers your demand with a little more power behind this one, the pain feeling so good you almost fall to your knees but luckily, he held you upright.

“Turn it off,” he says through clenched teeth, smacking you once more. If you were naked you know for a fact you’d be dripping down your legs, “Turn it off, Sugar. I see you trying,”

Hand on your neck, he’s pushing you backward and each step is another slap until he pins you to the wall, you can feel your eyes burn as the tears of desire being to rise.

You need this so bad.

“I said. Turn,” a harder slap, “It. Off!!,” with one more smack, you’re practically howling at how exceptional it felt, eyes closed as you welcome the sting that lingered on your flesh, feeling the heat running down to your neck and up to your temples.

Your head feels like you’re in limbo and when you open your eyes, he can see the change in yours and you can see the change in his.

You’re both in your designated positions. He has his hands on the wheel now. Your brain was off and the part of you that needed to be taken care of has entered the chat, the stressed version was locked away in a dark cell of your mind and would stay there until it was time to let her out.

“There she goes,” his hand soothed your cheek and you were liquid in his hands

“Thank you,” doe eyes shining up at him, he feels so proud of himself.

“Oh baby, it’s my pleasure,” he cooed, “Can you be good and undress for me?,”

“Can you help?,” your body was feeling fuzzy, like you had a few shots and were floating now. You felt like if you tried to undress yourself you’d topple over.

“Of course,” he felt gratified to be asked.

One article of clothing at a time until you were bare in front of him, pinned against the crimson paint on the wall.

“How are we doing? You okay?,” a kiss planted to your neck, his large hands running up and down your body had you sighing in content.

“On cloud nine,” you answer dreamily. You were in a daze, this room felt like your own amusement park now.

A room you once weren’t allowed in because this is his sanctuary. How many others were close to being brought here? How many others did he put in a hypnotic state?

“Put her away,” his gruff voice echoed in your ears, “She doesn’t get to come back. Lock it away,”

He could tell through your body language that you were starting to overthink again.

“Do we need to stop?,”

“No,” rearing back to look him in his eyes so he can see how bad you truly need and want this, “No. It’s turned off,”

“That’s what I need to hear,”

He brings you back over to the couch you were on a few minutes ago but this time he’s sitting on the cushion and he’s positioning you over his lap.

“Think you can handle a few spanks?,”

“Uh huh!,” excitement coursing through your veins, body jolting when you feel his lips press against the supple flesh that he was soon about to tenderize.

But first, he had to feel you. He has to feel your wetness coat his fingers. So his fingers trace figures on the back of your thighs and you’re jutting your ass up to get him to touch you, he delivers a light smack as a warning.

“Patience,” is all he speaks. Slowly but surely, his middle finger swipes your clit and lightly presses into your entrance.

He pulls a long drawn out moan from you when he fully pushes his finger inside. A quiet growl emits from his chest and your toes are curling.

“Noah pleeeeaaase,” you grip his calves, eyes rolling at his slow movement of removing his finger and reinserting it.

“What do you need, Sugar?,” you could hear the smile in his tone. The way he was speaking to you and touching you just made the anxiety melt away.

“Wanna feel your fingers. Always wanted to feel your fingers,” you couldn’t help but be unapologetically honest. For years you’ve watched his hands and how he talks with them, how he uses them to hold multiple things at once, how he sucks on them when he gets ice cream or ranch on them.

But until now you’ve always buried your desires deep.

“Oh yeah?,” without a warning, he’s stretching you open and you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, spreading your legs as open as possible so you’re not falling off his lap.

“You feel so good, Sugar,” he affirms, “So wet for me, so fucking warm,”

His fingers were reaching so deep it was intoxicating, never having experienced anyone with fingers as long as his has you going cross eyed.

“Thank you, Noah!!!,” your walls pulsing around his middle and ring fingers while his free hand soothed your ass cheeks before taking a big strike against them, the sound of his palm meeting your flesh bouncing off the walls.

“You’re so welcome, baby,” he picks up the pace of his fingers and he can feel the way you’re trying to get friction on your clit.

“Nuh uh,” he spanks you once more, “Be good, take what I give you,”

“Please,” singing a beautiful tune, you just want to let go for him, you want to crumble in his lap, you want him to feel what he does to you.

“Please what?,” another strike on your ass and another curl of his fingers inside you.

“W-wanna cum for you,”

“Is that right?,” there’s that teasing tone again, it makes you feel small but it only tightens the coil in your core. He moves his fingers with expertise inside of you and you think you’re about to orgasm strictly off of penetration which is rare for you. You almost always need clitoral stimulation.

“Please. Please. Wanna be good for you, wanna let go for you,”

You two have only just begun and you’re already a mess. You can hear the squelching, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears, you’re trembling.

You’re a fucking mess in his grasp.

“I think we should make your first one easy enough to earn,” he observed, positioning his knee right under your pelvis, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers stroked the deepest depths of you.

“C‘mon, Sugar. Give it to me. Let it out,”

Your nails are digging into his calf and you’re drooling, rocking back into him but he didn’t mind this time, he’s enjoys seeing how desperate you are to cum, not just for yourself but for him.

You want to offer all you can to him. All of your emotions, all of your whimpers and cries, your mind, body and spirit.

“I’m gonna… can I cum, Noah? Please”

He gives a hum of approval and he can feel it, he watched your body swell with a deep breath and watched it deflate as you let out the most beautiful, guttural moan he’s ever heard.

His fingers halt their movements inside of you and he makes sure to rub your back to bring you back down.

“You’re okay,” a soft murmur leaves his lips while he slowly removes his fingers from your soaked hole, sitting you up and repositioning you in his lap so you’re straddling him.

“Be good and open for me,”

You follow his directions and bask in the glory of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. You collect your flavor but before you can close your mouth and swallow it down, he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

Your eyes instantly roll in the back of your head, relishing the taste of his mouth sharing the taste of you.

“Need you,” you pull away, hands cupping his face as if he’s made of glass, “Always needed you,”

His gaze softens for a moment, letting you know that ‘regular’ Noah hears you, that it’s not just his persona hearing those words.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, “You have me, Sugar. Just as I have you,”

With ease, he lifts you up and walks with you to the cupboards.

“Pick a toy, a gag and a restraint and come to the bed when you’ve made your decision,” a kiss is given to your temple and he walks away, leaving you to make your choices without any pressure. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the bed.

He has so many trinkets to choose from. He just stock piled all of this stuff until he found the one? He really is a stickler for this kind of thing.

After some careful self-deliberation, you grabbed your chosen items and made your way over to him. Noah sat patiently within the doorway of the cage-like bed.

“I chose these,” you offer them to him and he gave an intrigued ‘hmph’

A rose, a silicone bar gag and wrist-to-thigh cuffs.

“Good choices, baby” standing up and kissing your forehead, he moves out of the way so you can see the bed. Silk red sheets, chains hanging from the bars, and the sheer canopy keeping secrets in with just a glimpse of what was to come.

“Climb up,” he pats your ass and you do just that, at a leisure pace so he can get a good view of you from behind. When you sit flat, you see him entering and closing the door behind him.

This feels much more intimate than just any ole bedroom. The lighting, the enclosed space, all of it made you feel closer to Noah.

“Before we start, take a drink for me,”

“But I’m okay,”

“Did I ask that?,” he tilts his head, eyes squinting as if to tell you ‘watch it.’

“I’m sorry,”

He cracks open the bottle and holds it to your lips, giving you a knowing look as if to say ‘I told you so’ when you drink down half the bottle.

When you’re finish he sets it to the side and hovers over you until you’re laying back on your elbows, eyes not leaving his.

“How are we doing? You still okay?,”

“I’m perfect, Noah,” a tender smirk made its way into your face, “I know I’m safe,” you assure.

“Are you okay? I know this kind of thing takes time, just don’t want you to feel pressured,” you inquire.

“There you go overthinking,” he kisses your neck, “For you, it’s easy to turn on. You never took notice to how I always took control? No matter what we did?,”

He’s got a point. Any time you two went out grocery shopping because you were anxious and didn’t want to go alone, he hooked his arm with yours, took your list and did all the shopping. Any time you two went out to the movies, he’s picking your snacks and drinks and doing all the talking. A hand on the small of your back each time you two were out, always helping you zip up your dresses or fastening your necklaces.

It was subtle, but it was always there.

“I was made for you. I was made to take care of you,” he continues his trail of kisses, planting them wherever he pleases, “And you let me. Which means you were always mine,”

A relaxed sigh is released at his words. He’s right and you know it.

“So, knowing this. I’m more than okay and am filled with joy of knowing that I get to break you and put you back together again, over and over,”

Bucking your hips up wasn’t a good idea, considering he pinned them down and got your restraints ready.

“I need this. Noah, please I need you” a shameful cry bounces off the bars of the enclosure you found yourself in.

“I know,” he growled, fastening your hands into the cuffs and attaching the other bands to each thigh. With your hands tied to your thighs now, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.

“You need me to wreck you. To hurt you so that the stressors of your everyday light aren’t plaguing your brain for once,”

He squeezes your cheeks so your lips are parted and lifts your head up to move your hair out of the way so he can tighten the gag.

You looked so beautiful like this.

“I’m here to give you just that,” he grabs the rose, “I don’t care how many orgasms it takes. I’m going to reduce you to nothing and fill you back up with worth again. I will end you and resuscitate you over and over again until you’ve had enough. Is that understood?,”

“Yeth,” you slur around the gag.

“Good,” on his knees, between your legs, he turns the rose on and the low hum fills the space, he leans forward to spit on your nipples before placing the opening of the toy over your harden buds, your back swiftly arching off the bed with a moan around the silicone.

He’s at this for a while, just teasing your nipples, biting at your jawline, groaning in your ear until you’re leaking onto the silk sheets.

You’re begging around the gag but he just teasingly looks at you as if he can’t understand you. But he knows. He knows where you need him.

“It’s a lot, are you sure you can handle it on your clit?,” he smirks so devilishly it’s almost scary. But the twinge of fear makes you ache.

“Mmhmm mmhm!,” already drooling around the bar, you nod feverishly, just wanting to feel something, no, needing to feel something.

You get what you desire when he sits back up on his heels to spread your legs even wider to get a perfect view of your swollen clit, glistening as your arousal is painted all over your core.

When he finally attaches the toy to your clit, your toes are curling, your eyes are rolling and your back is arching.

Maybe you weren’t ready for this, maybe you should have gotten a wand or something.

“Relax,” he says simply, using his own legs to pin yours down.

“Breathe, Sugar. Just breathe. Look at me,” he sees the way your eyes are swimming with tears and it brings him satisfaction, especially when your chest is trembling from him keeping the buzzing toy on your sensitive bundle.

“It’s a lot, I know but I wouldn’t give you more than you could handle,”

He slowly inhaled with you, guiding you to calm you down but it was just too much, so much that you’re already cumming and groaning behind the gag which causes Noah to darkly chuckle.

But he keeps it there. He keeps the rose there and you’re convulsing under him when he sinks his fingers into your messy core.

“That was pathetic,” he looked into your eyes, “And you didn’t even ask,”

He got so much amusement out of your whimpers, how the hell were you supposed to ask with a gag in your mouth?! But maybe that’s the point? It’s a set up for him to milk you as a form of torture.

It was sadistic but, you were the masochist after all.

“You’re so creamy,” he said in a daze, absolutely obsessed with the way you’re painting his fingers, your walls pulsing around his appendages as if they’re trying to draw them in and keep them there.

“Noaaaaaaahh!!,” your cries muffled, your face so wet from the tears and the spit but Noah finds it beautiful, if he could, he’d paint how you looked right now and frame it, get it tattooed even.

“You can do it. You asked for this, remember?” His eyes rolled at the feeling of his fingers deep inside, drenched in your offering, his tattoos glistening, catching his eye in the ruby lighting. He just wanted to be bottomed out in you already.

You’re calling for him from around the gag, breasts shaking as you’re overcome with yet another blinding climax. Your nails dig into your thighs, just wanting to dig them into Noah’s instead and pull him toward you. You wanted him, you craved him.

“Sshhhh. You’re okay, Sugar. You’re doing so well for me,” he picked himself up off your legs and grabbed a rag to wipe the spit that dribbled down your chin, “I’m gonna turn you over, need you to give me one more before you have me. One more and we can take the cuffs and gag off okay?,”

Sitting you up, his hand supporting the back of your head as he checks over you, making sure you’re okay.

“Do you need anything? A break, water?,” he breaks character for a moment

With a verbal “Nuh uh” behind the bar, you let him position you like a Barbie, letting him move your legs, manually arching your back and propping a pillow under your head so you were comfy and could breathe.

You feel him leave open mouthed kisses on your ass, biting the pillowy skin just to hear you hum in delight.

“Can’t wait to give you what you want,” Noah positions himself under you so he can stare right up at your leaking heat, no matter the angle, it was a mesmerizing sight to see, “But first, I just need to taste you.”

He exasperated in desperation before using his hands to grab your ass, bringing you down and lifting his head to feast.

Your fists are clenching in your restraint and your moans are flowing from your chest like a river. His tongue worked your overstimulated clit, suckling and licking. He ate as if you were the finest delicacy, trying to savor but also consuming you with greed.

Your body just responded to him without a fight, you were his puppet and he pulled the strings but you happily danced for him, giving him what he wanted. Yet again you feel his fingers push into you, you’d never get enough of his fingers, he knew how to use them and he knew how to use you. You were a howling mess against the pillow when you feel your next orgasm approaching. How did he expect you to stay up like this? Your legs felt like jelly and you were falling a part.

“You can do it, baby. I feel it. You’re almost there,” he murmured against your pussy, “One more and you can have what you want but you gotta show me you want it,”

Oh God did you want it, and bad! Your head felt fuzzy, your body was playing tug of war, fighting between it being too much versus you wanting it.

You gave in. Pussy pulsing, chest burning from hyperventilating and muscles aching. Despite it all, you’re cumming for him again, giving into your deep craving to just be his doll.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he cheers, drinking you in. He pulls himself away to position you on your back, quickly working to remove your restraints and gag.

“Sit up for me, Sugar,”

Your head lulling to the side, both of you giggling about it. He has you drink some more water and cleans your face with the towel again.

“I’m ready,” it was a simple whisper, “Show me what I’ve been missing. Please, King,”

The title takes Noah by surprise. He thought it would take a few sessions to get you fully under his spell but, you truly were for him. You were ready to bow to him, to fulfill every quest he bestowed upon you.

It kind of pulled at his heart strings. Whenever he was out in the scene he only cared about showing the subs a good time, a time for him and them to release and never see each other again. But this, this was euphoria.

“Lie down for me,” he hums, taking off his lounge wear and boxers so he’s bare just like you are.

He was a beautiful man to begin with but to see him like this in all his glory? It had you feeling like royalty. Others got to see him, yes, but you… only you get to see him.

He makes sure you’re comfortable before he inches forward, the tip nudging your clit and he grabbed your hands when you flinched away at the contact, lacing his fingers between yours.

“Don’t run away from me,” his lips were so plump, glistening with his spit and you just know they still taste like you.

“Call it before I ruin you,” he gave you one more chance.

“Do it” it wasn’t a teasing phrase. You wanted it. You have yearned long enough and now your wish is his command. His pins your clasped hand to the bed and takes your free hand, guiding it to his cock.

“Take it,” he ordered.

He was a perfect mix of girth and length, a mouth water red tip that shines with precum, two prominent veins, yeah- he was going to destroy you.

You couldn’t help but stroke him, watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes closed gently, this is the face of a King all right. Scooting closer to him, not wanting to leave any space, you slapped his tip against your own clit, the breath of both of you hitching in tandem. The noises that emitted from between the two of you, while you rubbing him against your entrance, were sinful.

“Show me what you’ve been wanting. Show me how bad you need me,” he growls, hiking both of your legs around his waist.

You guide him into you slowly, the eyes of both of you going wide, rejoicing in the way he fit in you like a missing puzzle piece, filling you up to make you whole.

“Fuck!,” choking on your own spit, the heels of your feet pulled him in so he could bottom out. You needed to catch your breath because you know once he gets started, you’ll lose it again. He drew in a shaky breath, bewitched by how good you feel.

“Give it to me,” you squeeze his hand, “Make me yours. I want to be yours. Ple- Oooooh fuck!!,”

His hips drew back and snapped into you, cutting you off as the pleasure drowns you. He kept the stacattoed pace, just taking in your expressions.

But then he saw the way you looked at him, it was a look of complete surrender, a look that says “I love you, I trust you”

It was a look to tell him to let go.

So, he used his free hand to take your thigh and press it back so your knee was almost touching your chest. This wasn’t Noah, the King was here and he was going to show you exactly why he was given that title.

You’re pinned beneath him from all angles and it’s overwhelming. His chain dangling in your face with each thrust, his voice smooth like suede as he talks you through it.

“Just like that, pretty girl. Take what I give you,”

Your moans slipped out like a hot knife to butter, he was fucking you through the mattress, bodies tangled and noises echoing through the room, he was making you melt.

“S-so fucking good!!,” the tears were spilling from your eyes and he just kissed them away without missing a beat.

“I know, Sugar,” he bows his head into your neck to leave a trail of bites, sinking his teeth into your dewy skin, your cries of surprise being music to his ears. You welcomed the pain of his biting, he had beautiful teeth and you always wondered what it would feel like for him to bite you. You don’t care if any marks are left. You’re his, he can leave marks for you to brandish all he wants.

“I’m so proud of you,” he grunted into your ear, “Coming to me all vulnerable, wanting me to take care of you and now you’re taking it like the good little slut you always wanted to be,”

“Please!,” your free hand tangles in his hair, your other makes crescent shaped dents in the back of his hand that held yours, “Please, fuck! Don’t stop!,”

Noah lifts his head to see the spaced out look in your eyes, half lidded and dick drunk. He never thought he’d see you like this.

“Please what? Use your words,” he pulls back from you to watch the look of despair on your face when he slows down.

Your words are caught in your throat, finding it hard to make a coherent sentence.

“Please, what, Sugar? Don’t make me ask again” He lets your leg go to grab the bar of the caged bed above your head, preparing to pick up his pace when you admit what you need.

“W-wanna cum around your cock,” it was a strong wail, one of pure carnal desire.

“You need it that bad?,” he teases.

“King, please. I need it so bad!!,”

The wind is knocked out of you as he sets his pace, rolling his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within you, causing you both to be vocal. A harmony unmatched. His whimpers fueling you to make it to the finish line. He wasn’t ashamed of the noises he made, especially because he saw how they impacted you.

He let go of your hand and smacked you just like he did earlier, eyes rolling once again as the heat only adds to the pleasure.

“More, please, please, please!!,”

“Such a dirty fucking slut. Getting off to her King slapping her around like a rag doll,” he smacked you again, earning another loud cry from you, he could feel just how much you love it, he can feel it when you clench around him each time his hand meets your cheek.

“Yes, yes,” your eyes never left his, not shying away.

“You like it when it hurts?,” another slap delivered, “You like it when it hurts knowing I’ll make it all better?,”

“Fuck!,” the tears just keep spilling but he knows they’re tears of release, of pleasure, they’re tears for him. Another offering to the King.

“I’m gonna make it all better, Sugar. Just keep being good and taking it, okay?,”

“Y-yes,”

He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together again so his tongue can slide in your mouth effortlessly. Teeth clashing, spit being swapped, the energy between you two was potent, a potion that you’d keep coming back for, drinking it down without being asked.

“I wanna cum for you,” biting his bottom lip, you pull back with a fucked out smirk on your face, “I wanna make a mess. I wanna show you that I’m worthy,”

“I already know that you are, baby,” his thumb tracing small circles onto your clit, his other releasing the bar and coming to wrap around your neck, “I know you’re my pretty little slut who will do anything to stay in my good graces,”

When his hand began to squeeze at your neck you were done for. Your moans came out in tremors, you were clutching onto him in anywhere you can. You groan at the loss of contact on your clit until his thumb is replaced with the same toy he wrecked you with earlier.

“You’re gonna take this toy from me. You’re going to be a good girl for your King and make yourself cum on my cock. You hear me?,” his voice was dangerously low now, letting you know there was no negotiation.

With a shaking hand you snake your hand between the two of you, grabbing the bulbous toy from him and holding it against yourself despite your body telling you to pull away.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he assures, a soft kiss placed on your lips, “Just focus on me. I’m right here,”

He was so close now. One hand on your throat and the other holding the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.

“My King,” you gasp, chest heaving as you feel yourself ready to fall off the edge.

“I’m gonna catch you. I’m always going to catch you, baby,”

Your eyes stared deeply into his and you just sobbed, needing this more than anything and you just cried. Getting fucked within an inch of your life so good you’re crying was not something you expected to happen considering your past endeavors with men who only cared about getting their own rocks off.

“I know. I know,” he’s still driving his hips deep into you and you’re circling the toy lightly on your swollen, cum soaked bud, you were almost there.

“Give it to me, Sugar. Give me what you owe me,”

And that was all she wrote.

With one deep gasp to fill your lungs he delivers a strong thrust, your fingers trembling around the toy so hard you accidentally turned it up to the next level and you were done for.

You practically screamed as Noah siphoned your orgasm out of you. You were shuddering beneath him as he kept thrusting, still talking you through it.

“You’re okay. You did so good for me, I’m right here. Fuck!”

With one last searing kiss, Noah is stilling his movements, emptying himself inside of you, both of you practically giving each other mouth to mouth CPR as you try to catch your breath. His head has fallen in the crook of your neck and your eyes are fighting to stay open.

“You can come back down now. Come back to me,” he mutters.

You slowly regain all your senses back. Taking in your surroundings and what just happened. As everything hits you, your cries echo in the room.

“Hey,” Noah is quick to sit both of you up and set you in his lap, “What’s going on in that head of yours?,”

Swallowing your cries and wiping your eyes you search for him, eyes connecting, the same beautiful brown eyes you could point out in any crowd.

“Thank you,” is all you say, “I needed that. More than you know,”

He smiles in relief, worried that the scene had somehow upset you.

“We got to get you cleaned up. We’ve got some aftercare to do and some things to talk about,”

Once both of you were all bathed, Noah took the time to moisturize your skin, apply soothing lotion to your ass and even being gentle in doing your skincare routine for you.

Once he has you curled up in his bed, he went to go clean the other room and brought back some snacks and water with electrolyte packets.

He takes it upon himself to feed you all while affirming how good you were. That you’re loved and cared for, not wanting to leave any room for doubt to sneak in.

“You okay to talk?,” he questions.

You sit up against the headboard, worried about what this talk can pertain to.

“I see the cogs turning, relax,” he soothes, “If you want this like I want this we need to talk,”

“I want this,” you answer definitively. He can’t help but laugh at your excitement.

“I know it’s a little too late to say that I don’t want to rush into things but, I’d like to rewind a bit and start at square one,”

“And that is?,”

“A date,” he answers simply. Sure you’ve gone on friend dates all the time but this is different, this is serious, “I want to build it from the ground up. I know we’ve been friends for ages and have built trust but this is different and I want to build a stronger foundation because I want this to work,”

You take in his words, listening as he goes over his requests and needs for the relationship. You gave him your own list of demands and found yourselves giddy at the fact that yes, you two are a living cliche.

But who cares?

It was you and Noah against the world now.

Til Kingdom Come.

This idea was burning in my head for ages and I had to write it!!

Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, thank you for your support!! 🥹

~Berry 🫐

tags: @lma1986 @thisbicc @theroyaldixon @whatitsdecending

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xxvi – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count:  5,100+

warning: sex scene [even bigger warning: the first one i've ever written, so it'll probably be very bad 😂]

masterlist

“If we continue paying the farmers this way, it will have consequences on the court’s treasury!" The Master of Coin droned on to the rest of the advisors and Eris. 

“Abbán, you have been poisoned by the same greed of the late High Lord Beron,” defended General Domnhall. 

He was Eris’ most loyal warrior when he controlled Autumn Court's armies. And once Eris became High Lord, there was no one else he trusted more to take his place as General than him. The male was yet another that, had it had been safe enough, Eris would've considered Domnhall a friend. 

General Domnhall had been away from the Forest House since Eris had usurped the throne, in order to protect the Court and assure Eris’ reign was not overtaken or challenged, while also monitoring the borders of Autumn Court. 

Eris tried to suppress his smirk at his friend’s defensiveness. 

“And what of the funds we gained from trading in human flesh?” Domnhall added darkly. 

Eris finally leaned forward, forearms pressing into the oak table. “Do not take me as a fool, Abbán. My father’s greed was always framed as responsible and for the good of the Court. But we all know neither were true. He kept as much as could, so our people were desperate and worked harder for nearly nothing. He did it to control them.” 

“They are your subservients!” Abbán’s voice raised. 

Eris shot to his feet. “There are my Court!”

From the outburst, his entire body was engulfed in flames that threatened the room, but remained in control at his side. 

Everyone at the table tensed. 

“A High Lord is meant to bring his Court to glory, not to keep his inhabitants weak and scared of his power,” Eris continued evenly. “You and I both know there is plenty of coin, Abbán. Rid yourself of the illness that is greed, or I will find a Master of Coin who can.” 

Abbán swallowed nervously. 

But Eris continued. “In the past, we have relied too heavily on the interest of other Courts to purchase our goods. We shall start trading to the Mortal Realm and to the fae of Spring Court.” 

There was instantly murmuring amongst the table. 

“But High Lord Tamlin could see this as an attempt to take his Court,” one said. 

Eris scoffed. “Tamlin cannot even manage his own manor. Do you honestly think he’s paying any attention to the goods being imported through his borders? Lucien will manage the shipments. They trust him. And if their High Lord will not assure his inhabitants are being fed, then I will.” 

Abbán knew better than to argue. So, he bowed his head and replied, “Yes, High Lord.” 

“We have been at council since dawn, High Lord.” Another spoke gently. “Perhaps that is enough for today…”

“Yes,” Eris agreed in a growl. “It is.” He waved his hand lazily. “You are dismissed.” 

He slumped back into his chair, waiting for the others to leave. 

Domnhall was the only one that stayed behind, patiently waiting to be left alone with the High Lord.

Eris pretended to not notice. 

There was a moment of tense silence shard between the two males. 

“Shall I kill him?” Domnhall asked cheerfully. 

Eris rolled his eyes. “If I wanted him dead, I could do it myself.”

Domnhall stood and moved closer to his High Lord, hovering about his seat at the council table. “Yes, I am well aware.” 

Eris sighed and crossed his arms. “Is there something you needed, Domnhall?”

The general smirked at him. “Get rid of the ol’ git. He is useless. His greed makes him unfit for the role. It is smart a smart move to bring food to Spring Court. They are suffering. And perhaps your charity could bring more to Autumn Court.” 

Eris nodded slowly. “How is my army?”

“They are my army now,” Domnhall teased. “And they are well. Some are weary about the civil unrest. None wish to fight against their own, some of which are their families and friends. But they remain loyal to you, Eris – as always.” 

During Beron's reign, the army would have followed Eris through anything. They were loyal to him, not Beron. They trusted him, believed in him. But Eris would never have risked their lives to an outright war against his father.

Eris rubbed his face, clearly deep in his head.

“Now, where is that mate of yours?” Domnhall asked with a smile, looking around playfully as if she would appear at any moment. “You have hid her from me for months now. All I know of her are the rumors that spread through the Court.”

Eris cocked his eyebrow at him. “With your history, do you really think I would let you anywhere near her?” 

Domnhall only chuckled. He was not shy about his love for females, especially ones who were...unsatisfied with their husbands.

All teasing disappeared as Eris’ gaze darkened. “She wishes to return to the mortal realm. To Y/N, her place is not here, but amongst the humans.”

Domnhall’s smile dropped. “But you are mates…”

“Yes, and that holds little meaning to mortals. She does not see it as we do. She cannot feel the bond.”

“But she is not just a mortal,” Domnhall argued. “She is a witch!”

“If she wishes to leave, who am I to stop her?” Eris finally snapped. “Shall I chain her to the Forest House, hold her captive, make her no more than a prisoner?” He rubbed his face. “It wouldn’t be the first time a High Lord imprisoned a woman in such a manner…”

“Do not compare yourself to Tamlin,” Domnhall spat with disgust. “You keep her here to insure her safety. The mortal realm is unstable as it is – and if anyone found out who she was, she would be endangered. I know your actions are noble, Eris. Your father is no longer here to force your false character. And I know the male you truly are.” 

Eris stood, his hands pressing down into the table. “Thank you, Domnhall, for your…loyalty and…”

“Friendship?” The general offered with an amused smirk. 

He too now stood. “One day, I hope you can undo your conditioning and actually call me your friend.”

Domnhall started to leave, but paused at the doorway. “And in case you didn’t know, friends usually introduce each other to their mates.”

He winked and disappeared. 

—🍁—

Eris needed to see her. His body started to ache when he was away from her for too long. And once she had moved into the Forest House, the aches only grew stronger.

All the talk of her from Domnhall only made him realize the council had been distracting him from the feeling.

And he could ignore it no longer.

Y/N had healed him after the battle, after he had used his beast form for the first time since becoming High Lord. 

It had been almost two weeks, since Y/N had healed him after the battle, after he had used his beast form for the first time since becoming High Lord. 

And Eris had barely had time to see her since. 

Now, he searched for her in the surrounding forest of the manor. It was all enclosed and protected by countless spells of his own magic.

She should not be in any danger here. But it still left him uneasy for her safety. 

The trees were getting thicker and he tried to pull on the string that tied him to her. He'd heard of mates calling to each other, yanking at the tie between their hearts and souls.

But Y/N was not fae – even worse, she had not accepted the bond yet. 

Instead, Eris came across one of his guards that he had assigned to watch over Y/N. 

He bowed immediately. “She is safe, High Lord. Lady Y/N wished for space, I have the guards surrounding her, but keeping out of her sight.”

Eris nodded in thanks. “You and the rest of the guard are relieved of your duties for the day. Thank you for watching over her.” 

The guard bowed again, but hesitated before he soflty added, “She was helping the injured all morning, High Lord. Then she immediately went to the archives for hours. I believe she needs some rest.” 

Eris gripped the guards shoulder in thanks. A gesture he would’ve never even thought of doing when Beron was still alive and ruling. 

He walked forward until there was a break in the trees. The small patch of hilly grass allowed the light of the setting sun to slip through. 

In the middle of the clearing was a giant oak tree, its trunk over five feet wide. 

And beneath it was his mate, fast asleep on top of a thick blanket. But not alone, for his smoke hounds were an extra layer of protection on top of the guard he assigned to watch over her.

She was wearing a blood red dress made of both velvet and sheer fabric. Even when laying on the grass asleep, she looked utterly beautiful. Her lips were covered in a stain that perfectly matched the color of her dress, and Eris could only assume one of her servants had insisted on the detail. 

Eris swore he did not pay the Court’s seamstresses enough for how perfectly they tailored all of Y/N’s clothes. 

Per usual, her feet were bare. But somehow hardly dirty for having trounced through the woods. 

As soon as Eris took a step into the clearing, all 12 of his smoke hounds – who had been cuddly and guarding Y/N – shot up and growled a warning to him. 

Eris whistled lowly, his signal for them to relax, one of many that he had trained into them since they were puppies.

Their growling immediately ceased and a couple even trotted over to give their master a greeting. 

The only threat now: Ronan. Y/N’s pet fox, who was not his nor trained by him.

Ronan still growled in warning at Eris, standing protectively at Y/N’s feed as she slept.

Eris chuckled at Ronan, still a kit and not a full-grown fox yet. 

Ronan let out a bark when Eris was only a few feet away, and it finally stirred Y/N. 

“You woke her, you overprotective runt,” Eris hissed his scold to the fox. 

Y/N blinked and reached for her knife. But as soon as her gaze found Eris, her entire body relaxed. 

“I apologize for waking you,” Eris quickly told her, hovering where he stood, unsure if he should invade her space or leave. 

Y/N gave him a shy grin and then reached out a hand, silently signaling him to join her on the blanket. 

Ronan gave another warning growl. 

“Hush, Ronan,” Y/N chided, as she picked the fox kit up and moved him on the other side of her, away from Eris. "You know he means no harm.” 

Ever so gracefully, Eris walked through the pack of protective smoke hounds and carefully sat on the blanket beside Y/N, his back resting against the trunk of the oak tree. 

To his surprise, Y/N scooted closer instantly, resting her head against his chest. 

Eris tried to control his heart rate as his mate’s ear lingered right over it. One would think he was some pubescent fae youngling with the way his body reacted to such an innocent gesture. It would be more embarrassing if he was not getting such a thrill from this innocent intimacy. 

“What are you doing out here, little witch?” He asked her as he brushed hair behind her ear and off her neck, so he could clearly look down at her face. 

Y/N sighed, “I needed some air.”

“Ahh…and what gossip did the wind tell you today?”

Y/N smirked “Nyx took his first steps today. Rhysand cried more about it than Feyre did.”

“What a sentimental fool,” Eris snarked back. 

“Do not be rude!” She snapped back with a smile, and pinched his thigh in warning. 

As if laughing with them, a small fist of wind flurried around them. 

Eris looked down at Y/N. Really she should be wearing a cloak or have another blanket. 

Quickly, he slightly jostled her to remove his own cloak, the collar lined with fur. 

He wrapped it over Y/N gently. 

She smiled. “You didn’t need to do that. What if you get cold?”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Tis only fashion. I am the High Lord of Autumn, a wielder of flame. My blood runs hot and I am almost never cold.”

To prove it further, he held out the hand that wasn’t holding his mate, and lit a fireball in his palm. Then released it into the air. It remained floating around them and Y/N immediately felt its warmth, as if they were sitting near a bonfire. 

Y/N cuddled even further into his chest.

She looked up at the trees around them, forever in a state of orange, red, and yellow.

“In the mortal realm, I would wait all year for autumn. I dreamt of the leaves changing all summer. I always yearned for the chill air, the cloudy skies, the rainy days. Summer weighs me down. I hate the heat and the humidity, the sun is overbearing.”

Y/N hesitated before she continued. “When I first entered Autumn, it felt like a cruel joke, being dragged into the most beautiful place I’d ever seen, while bound and enslaved.”

Eris’ body tensed in rage. The ball of fire sparked from his emotions. 

There were some days when he wished he could bring his father back, only to torture him for what he did to Y/N, and the mortal women and childcare. 

But when Eris managed to stifle his anger, he looked down at Y/N, she had already fallen back asleep. 

He whispered to the wind, “It is because you were meant for this place, my mate.” 

Then he leaned down to kiss her brow. 

The wind brushed through again, as if it agree with his statement. 

Suddenly, all he wanted was to join his mate in her peaceful sleep. 

Eris whistled to his dogs. Their ears perked up and they all looked to him, waiting for the command. 

“Stand guard,” he ordered. 

They all scattered, taking on positions in a radius and sitting stiff with watchful eyes to the surrounding forest. 

But to Eris’ amusement, Ronan trotted to the edge of the blanket and joined in the reconnaissance and as the last line of defense. 

Perhaps Ronan did take orders from him…when it involved his mate’s safety. 

—🍁—

Eris awoke almost 2 hours later. 

His recent distance from Y/N had made sleeping difficult. And as soon as he had her in his arms, his body relaxed and the exhaustion caught up with him. 

Loyal and obedient, his smoke hounds were pacing around them, guarding and surveying the area for any potential threats. 

Eris looked down to see that Y/N was still peacefully asleep on his chest. 

She needed to eat, and rest in a proper bed. 

He whistled again and the smoke hounds sprinted toward him, then sat in a line, awaiting their masters next order. 

“With me, back to the Forest House.”

The half the smoke hounds sprinted ahead, while the other half surrounded Eris.

Ronan stayed at Y/N's side.

As carefully as he could, Eris gathered Y/N in his arms. And with a wave of his hand, the blanket disappeared and would arrive in the wash house. 

Y/N’s head naturally fell to his shoulder. 

Eris walked slowly back to the Forest House, worried that winnowing would wake her.

As soon as they reached the grand hall, a servant paused her work and bowed at their arrival. 

“Ready a meal for two and bring it to my bedchambers, please.” Eris ordered. 

When they reached his room, Eris gently placed Y/N on his bed. 

“Little witch, you must wake soon and eat something.”

She whined at her slumber being interrupted. 

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked her with a narrowed gaze. 

She shied away at the question, and was smart enough to look a little guilty. For if the tables were turned, it would also upset her to see the High Lord skipping meals and working himself into utter exhaustion.

“That is what I thought,” Eris answered for her. 

It only took a few minutes for someone to bring up a meal for them.

It was a sweet looking fae who looked quite young. But Y/N had quickly learned that looks could be deceiving when it came to predicting the age of fae. 

Much to Y/N’s dismay, the servant practically carted in a feast for just the two of them. 

Eris stood, moving to the cart. “Thank you…” There was an awkward pause. “…Delyth.”

The servant blushed at the High Lord using her first name. 

“O-O-Of course, High Lord.” The poor thing stuttered out with a bow. 

Eris had been making an effort to address the staff with more kindness and acknowledgment. It was hard to adjust from the way Beron had rule this house. Which was why it was sounded so unfortunately awkward for Eris to address the servant by name. 

Feeling a bit braver now, the servant turned a bit to address Y/N directly with a shy smile. “The cooks made sure to include a few apple tarts. The bakers said they have quickly become one of your favorites.”

Y/N beamed at the kindness. “They are! Thank you so very much, Delyth. And please tell everyone in the kitchen thank you, as well.” She gave some side eye to Eris. “From both of us,” she added. 

Delyth rushed out with a final bow. 

Y/N joined Eris at the cart of food. Now that she was smelling and seeing it, her stomach growled and she finally acknowledged how hungry she was. 

“The servants seem less scared of you these days,” Y/N pointed out with amusement as she lifted lids off various sides. 

“That is less scared?” Eris cocked a brow. 

Y/N sighed and turned to face him fully. “Give it time, Eris. You have only been High Lord of Autumn for – how long? – 4 months?”

He just hummed. 

She continued. “You have been alive for centuries. Surely you do not expect to undo your previous reputation in mere days?” 

Eris was already filling a plate with a little bit of everything they had been given. “Well, certainly I should take notes from you. My Court adores you.” He smirked. “If the apple tarts were not obvious enough.”

He handed it to her, making Y/N realize he had been making a plate for her before himself.

She took it carefully, trying to ignore the sweet gesture. 

“Eat,” he urged, the High Lord in him clearly heard. 

“Yes, yes.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m eating. I’m eating.” 

Y/N moved to sit on the floor next to the giant fireplace in his bedchambers. Before she had even fully sat down, Eris had started a fire with a simple nod of his head. Then giant floor cushions – blood red, velvet, and tufted – appeared next to her. 

“I like sitting on the floor,” she muttered to herself, but fully knowing he could hear. 

“Well, I do not,” Eris retorted as he joined her on his own cushion. 

“Ah, right. We were just talking about how you are centuries old. It probably isn’t comfortably for your poor back…”

Eris paused the stabbing of his food with his fork at such a comment. 

But when he looked up, Y/N was trying not to laugh. 

“What!?” She finally giggled. “I find it hard to believe anyone ever had the courage to tease you. Perhaps it will build character!” 

“No one teased me because if they did… they were fried to ash and soot.” 

“By Beron?” She mocked. 

“By me.” 

But his glare could no longer be ignored. 

“Fine. I will stop,” Y/N surrendered. 

They continued their meal with comfortable conversation. Mostly of Eris asking about her day, and the days before when he could not see her. He asked her about the mortals, how they were faring, if the children needed anything. 

In return, Eris told her about all the meetings with his council. He even admitted how much he struggled with not lashing out at those who seemed resolute on disagreeing with his every decision and philosophy. 

“You may rid yourself of them, you know…” Y/N hummed. 

She now lounged on her side across the floor cushion, head propped up on her elbow as she gazed up at his straight posture. 

Y/N added, “There is a middle ground between complete submission and murdering any who disagree with you.” 

“And what is that, little witch?” He asked, almost bitingly.

“You could dismiss them from their position, remove them from the High Lord’s council.”

“And let them live?” Eris challenged with disgust in his tone. “So they could leave my court, and join the rebellion and challenge me?” 

Y/N sat up and moved closer, matching his sitting position. “Yes, let them live! So your people see that you are not a tyrant, but a just High Lord with honor and benevolence. And you leave an opening for others to gain standing with you, showcasing their honor, taking any opportunity to help you and help their court. True acts of service – not titles won through deceit and greed.”

Eris stared at her in awe. 

His witch spoke like a vizier, whispering council into a mortal king’s ear. But she was not doing it for any benefit other than his own. She only wished to help him. 

“I see your time in our libraries has taught you a thing or two,” he whispered to her. 

Y/N's face warmed and she looked away from his studying gaze. “I only wished to understand the ways of the fae and of Autumn Court.”

“Yes, and you learned much more than that, too.”

Eris reached out then, his fingers brushing gently against her cheek, lifting her chin so she was forced to look at him. His touch was like a spark— familiar and foreign still.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers, a kiss that was both a promise and a plea. Their politics and council seemed to vanish in that moment—the weight of their bond, the burden of their destinies, all faded into the background, until there was nothing left but the beat of their hearts and the shared warmth of their embrace.

This was not their first kiss, but it was the most daring of them all. 

There was a new energy, one that had been tapping at her shoulder for too long. And she feared she could no longer ignore it. 

When they pulled apart, Y/N’s breath was shaky, her pulse racing.

Eris’ hand slid down her spine, pulling her flush against him. His hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and contour. 

He pulled away to look at her face, reading every tiny expression to see if she wanted him to stop. Because he knew his mate to be bashful, and she would not stop him until she was too scared. 

Thus, he was surprised to see such hunger and desire in her y/e/c eyes. 

Eris pulled up the skirt of her velvet dress, then undid the delicate buttons at the back of the dress, letting it fall from her torso to reveal a sheer lace body suit as her lingerie.

His fingers traced the lace, teasing her skin through the farbic, until Y/N arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"You are beautiful," he murmured against her mouth, his breath hot on her skin. “I fathom any males who have had the pleasure of seeing you this way were undeserving.”

Y/N's hands were not idle either. She ran her fingers through his thick, flame hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Her nails scraped lightly down his back, eliciting a shudder from him. Eris groaned, his desire for her growing with every touch.

Eris lowered his head, his lips moving down her neck and across her chest.

Y/N arched her back, her hands gripping his shoulders, as waves of pleasure rippled through her.

"Eris," she gasped, her voice hoarse with desire. 

She was not a stranger to sex. But it had left her so disappointed in the past, that her body had declared a complete disinterest in exploring it further with men, moving forward in life with an utter lack of desire. 

But Y/N did not know that Eris had put those pieces together, from Feyre’s subtle warning to him after Y/N had shared such a depressing sexual past to her friends. 

It brought him a strange rage that men had disappointed her so thoroughly. But that was quickly replaced with the primal urge to show her what she could have from him. 

So, Eris obliged, lavishing attention on his mate, his hands roaming lower, caressing the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips. 

Y/N's breath quickened as his fingers dipped underneath the skirt of her dress, tracing the lace edge of her body suit.

Pride swelled through Eris as his hand moved to instantly find her arousal. 

“Let me, Y/N. Please. I beg you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. 

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and she gazed up at him, her expression a mix of desire – and, surprisingly, trust. 

Eris smiled, a predatory grin, and gently pushed her back onto the cushion, following her down, his body covering hers. He kissed her deeply, hungrily, his hands roaming freely over her body, exploring every inch of her soft skin.

His fingers traced the line of her thigh, pushing her skirt higher and out of the way, fully revealing the delicate lace that covered her core.

Y/N's breath hitched as his fingers brushed against her over the fabric, and she arched her hips, seeking more contact.

He finally took pity on her and moved the fabric to the side.

Eris's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her exposed sex. 

With that, he dipped his middle finger into her, slowly, teasingly, remembering that she was a mortal – and one has lived without being deservedly worshipped by a male.  

Y/N gasped, her body jerking at the sudden intrusion. The sensation of his finger sliding into her was exquisite.

His finger moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, gently stretching her, filling her with a pleasurable ache. He added a second finger, causing Y/N to moan softly, her head tossing back. And she clenched around his fingers, her body welcoming the touch in a way it never had before. It was a reminder than fae males were bigger than men in every way – including their fingers.

“Breathe, Y/N.” Eris encouraged with equal parts dominance and tenderness. “I can feel you holding back. Relax, my little witch.”

His voice alone sent a tremor through her body and it listened to his command as if he were her master. 

He began to move his hand in a steady, rhythmic motion, his fingers curling and inside her, hitting a spot within her that she had never felt before. 

Y/N gasped as pleasure coursed through her body. 

She could feel her orgasm building, a feeling she had never experienced when sharing a bed with the few males in her past. Delicious tension coiled in her core.

"Eris..." she could barely whisper, pleading with him against her own control.

Eris grinned, knowing he had her exactly where he wanted her. He increased the pace, his fingers working her with relentless precision.

But he was not another fumbling, mortal male. He was high fae, a powerful high lord – with Autumn fire in his blood. And he could give her more than just his fingers. 

His magic flickered out of him, controlled and careful. He could not give her too much or she might never recover. She may be a witch, but she had a fragile mortal body still. 

An invisible flame under his control spread across her skin, like a hundred warm hands were touching her, overwhelming her senses. Her skin was hot from the magic and beads of sweat started to form. 

She couldn’t handle it any longer. 

Y/N’s hips bucked off the floor, her hands trying to grip onto something as she surrendered to the sensations.

But Eris took both of her hands in one and locked them above her head, keeping her his prey.

“Let go, Y/N.“ Eris encouraged, his thumb finding her clit and circling it gently.

His words were like magic too, and Y/N’s body exploded in pleasure. 

She cried out, her back still arching as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss. Every window flew open by a gust raging into the room. Not the messengers, but her own witchcraft. As if it was her body’s subconscious response, desperate for relief from the stimulation. 

“Good girl,” Eris whispered as his magic wouldn’t let her calm down, overstimulating her. His fingers continued their assault, pushing her orgasm further, drawing out every last bit of the pleasure she deserved.

As the tremors subsided, Y/N lay panting with closed eyes, her hair fanned out on the wood floor like a halo. Her body spent, recovering from something she’d never felt before. 

But Eris comforted her, reminding her of his presence by caressing her skin and kissing up her torso and focusing on her neck. 

He kept her arms above her head, worried she would try to use them to hide herself from him.

After a few minutes, Y/N opened her eyes to find Eris still nuzzling her neck. 

As if sensing her clarity coming back, Eris finally released her and pulled back to give her a stern look. “You are not allowed to be embarrassed—understand?”

The dominance in his voice forced a quick nod from her. 

Eris had always had an imposing energy as High Lord. But it had never been directed at Y/N like this, and it was making her body tremble.

Y/N had never been given a chance to openly express her sexuality, and the intensity of her reaction caught her off guard.

In his presence, she was able to let go and give him control over her body and mind. 

But Y/N’s whole body only grew warmer – and not by the hand of Eris’ sex magic. Was that even what it had been? Her mind was fuzzy. 

Before Eris could say another word, she scrambled onto her feet. At least she had the decency of lingerie still being on her body. But she abandoned the dress Eris had so easily removed, the dozens of buttons would now betray her in this moment. 

Instead, she lunged for the Eris’ cloak that he had draped over her in the forest earlier and wrapped it around her shoulders, hiding her undergarments. 

Her heart was pounding, and she felt a rush of emotions—pleasure, confusion, and a strange sense of vulnerability.

"I... I shouldn’t… we can’t,” she stammered, eyes darting around the room at everything, but him.

Before Eris could respond, she rushed out of his bedchambers.

He knew her avoidance would win in the end. But Eris was a patient male. One does not live for centuries, planning their tyrant father’s usurping without great persistence and humility. 

So he would let her hide…for now. 

Eris had been tiptoeing around Y/N, submitting to her fear and need of distance. He let Y/N control their relationship with her withholding and protective isolation. 

But he now understood: Y/N needed to be chased, needed to be exposed to her greatest fears just so he could show her he would not let her get hurt.

But now she had proven to him that she could handle his passion, his desire. He just had to take it, with the unbroken promise of keeping her safe through it. 

Eris fell back to the floor and stared up at the high ceilings of his bedchamber. 

Y/N had left him alone with the lingering scent of her passion. It filled his bedchambers and it wouldn't dampen for days.

Eris smiled, knowing what he had to do now.

Y/N needed to be conquered.

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

I know people never read these author notes. But I have two things:

a) if you've been following my work for awhile, you know that this is the first sex scene I have ever written. I usually just skip sex scenes and heavily imply them with a fade-to-black strategy. So, if you liked it: please, please, please let me know. I really don't know if I pulled it off.

b) thank you so much for being patient with me. work has cause me to have multiple mental breakdowns, panic attacks so bad that I have to call out sick from work. I have been busy applying to jobs, while also dealing with the high demands of my current job. so i simply have not had the mental motivation to produce art, instead only finding the energy to consume it.

if you liked this chapter, please write a book report for me. it will bring me joy. 🥹🧡