#bryce x reader smut

[shadowdaddies]

Hello! I love your stories!!! But I don't see anything of Bryce and she is my favorite character. What do you think about a Bryce x f!reader story? Something like being the fae princess's bodyguard and she wants a night of fun?? Thanks for your stories💖

hey love, tbh I was just thinking about how Bryce deserves more fics the other day but I didn’t know what to write for her. I love this request, thank you for sending it to me. this came out surprisingly angsty so I hope you're okay with angst, fluff, AND smut lol

Her Highness's Bodyguard

Bryce x Reader

A/N: this is angst, fluff, and smut idk what came over me

Warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, not proofread, minors dni

You were close friends with Ruhn through your work in the auxiliary, and had by extension became friends with Bryce, often hanging out with her at Ruhn’s parties. You weren’t close friends, but when you ran into her at The White Raven or other social events, it was a relief to see her. She was always so kind to you, and you’d developed a bit of a crush.

That all changed once she accepted her title as the Princess. The Autumn King demanded that Bryce have a body guard with her at all times, and Ruhn pulled every string he could to ensure that you were picked for the position. He and you both thought that having you as her guard was a way to appease their father, while allowing Bryce to have someone she liked in the role. Apparently, you were wrong. 

Bryce quickly changed her demeanor towards you, constantly cutting your conversations short and running off at inconvenient times, leaving you to chase after her. One night, she snuck out to the White Raven where you found her dancing on one of the tables. You stormed over to her, pulling her down by her arm. “What the Hel are you doing Bryce? It’s like you’re asking for trouble. Why can’t you just tell me where you’re going? I can’t lose my position in the Aux because you have some problem with me! I can’t lose you!” you ranted, spiraling in your anxiety as she finally broke you down. Holding back tears, you looked up at Bryce, who had gone silent.

She stared at you like she was seeing you for the first time, opening her mouth to say something before she quickly closed it again. As quickly as Bryce let her mask slip, she put it on again as she resumed her usual flippant, entitled facade. Smirking at you, Bryce taunted, “let loose honey, why don’t we have one night of fun?” She took your hand, a shockwave flowing through you at the touch, and dragged you to the dance floor. Bryce started dancing, grinding against you as she lost herself to the music. You were frozen in place, tempted to succumb to your desires and dance with her, but you knew it was against your better judgment. Not only was it irresponsible while you were on duty as her guard, but you knew she didn’t feel the same way for you as you did her. 

Needing to get away from the situation, you left Bryce on the dance floor, bolting to the bathroom in an attempt for fresh air. Before you could close the door to shut yourself inside, a familiar hand shot out, holding the door open. Bryce’s red hair preceded her face that peered around the door, amber eyes filled with concern. “Is everything alright, honey?” Bryce questioned cautiously as she stepped into the room, latching the door behind her. 

You found yourself on the verge of tears once more as the real Bryce was revealed, the Bryce you cared for so deeply. You realized you couldn’t go on like this, being around someone all the time who didn’t return your feelings. Taking a deep breath, you told Bryce the truth. “I don’t know if you hate me, if this is your idea of just a fun night, or what you are thinking, Bryce. But I can’t go on like this. I care for you, beyond being your guard, beyond being your friend. It’s too painful for me to constantly chase after someone who clearly doesn’t want me in their life. I quit.” 

You stepped around her, making your way to open the door when Bryce pulled you back. Resting her forehead against yours, Bryce held you close as she breathed, “it’s not just a fun night.” Confused, you shook your head as you looked to her for more answers. Bryce sighed. “It’s not just a fun night for me to come here. I knew you would follow me. I don’t know how to talk to you since you’ve become my guard, but I want to be around you. Even if it’s you chasing me around the city, I just wanted to feel like you wanted me like I want you.” 

You gasped at the admission, mind reeling as you came to understand what she was saying. Refusing to overthink any more, you pulled Bryce in and kissed her. She kissed you back eagerly, reaching down to grab your ass, eliciting a moan that allowed her to slip her tongue in your mouth. She backed you against the counter top, where you ground your hips against hers as you slid your hands up to cup her breasts. Spurned on by yours movements, Bryce lifted you up on the counter and began kissing down your chest before lifting you enough to slide your dress over your head. She pulled back to remove your undergarments, but you locked your ankles around her waist, drawing her closer to you. You began kissing and sucking your way down her neck as you brought your hands to the hem of her dress, pulling upwards to remove the clothing. You couldn’t help but gape at her body, her curvy tanned form that took your breath away. 

Before you could make any further moves, Bryce pinned you, towering over you against the countertop as she kissed you, all the while adjusting your hips to slide further down to the edge of the counter where she removed your underwear. Bryce smirked as she knelt down in front of you, pushing your legs apart as she wrapped her arms around your thighs. She kissed her way up each of your legs until she reached your dripping center, wasting no time as she licked a broad stripe up your pussy. Your back arched as you let out a loud moan at the contact. “Fuck, Bryce, that’s so good,” you breathed, lifting your hips in a silent plea for more. She obliged, harshly sucking your clit, bringing one hand to circle your entrance while the other roamed over your breasts, tugging and twisting your nipples. You were breathless, almost to the edge when Bryce slid two fingers in, curling them against your walls. She moved at a fast pace, switching between kitten licks and sucking on your clit. You moaned her name, crashing over the edge as you hit your orgasm hard. 

Panting, you looked to Bryce who was now standing above you, smirking as she licked her fingers clean. You grabbed her dress from the floor, throwing it towards her as you dressed yourself. Grabbing her hand, you gave her a promising look as you murmured, “come on, we’re finishing this back at the apartment.” 

[starboye]

Addicted

pairing: bryce mckenzie x male reader

warnings: smut, somnophilia, spanking, aftercare, overestimation, crying from pleasure, cursing

summary: from this

"bryce please i need a break" you brokenly beg as bryce pounds into you at an unrelenting pace "i cant stop when i have such a nice hole around me" bryce grunts gripping you hips tighter with each moan you let out "we've been going for hours" you whine "which means you could go for one more" bryce cheerily says smiling wide "how are you not tired" you ask huskily "because this keeps me going" he says stopping his movement momentarily to admire the mess he's made in your hole.

"yeah but we've been going for hours" you say as a small tear drops down your face from pleasure "just think of it as an early honey moon" bryce says "i wont be alive to see it if you keep fucking me" you yell before letting out a moan to the feeling of bryce cumming for the 7th or 8th time, you couldn't really tell anymore because all of them just blended together in your mind.

"you always were a little dramatic" bryce chuckles "finally we're done" you huff moving to get off the bed "ah ah where do you think your going" bryce tuts as he grabs you weak leg "bryce please no im tired" you whine "c'mon just one more time" bryce pleas "you said that an hour ago" you huff "please" bryce begs with puppy dog eyes before kissing you deeply.

you never could resist when bryce gave you those kind of kisses its like your brain just shuts down and you'd do whatever he tells you too "fine" is all you manage to get out before bryce is pushing you back onto the bed and thrusting into you again with a slew of curses falling from his mouth "i promise this is the last time babe" bryce said admiring the way your face scrunched up with every movement.

"you there y/n" bryce chuckles as he slaps your ass harshly "ngh" you whine gripping bryces wrist "someones sensitive" he smirks groping you ass "im so tired" you moan as more tears fall from your eyes "well if you do fall asleep can i keep going" bryce asks slowing his pace for a moment, all you can do is nod as you slowly pass out.

"damn your still squeezing even after passing out, you're one hell of a slut" bryce says holding your ass "you just needed a good fucking huh" bryce asks tilting his head slightly, he feels up and down you body as you lay there mouth agape and looking as beautiful as ever.

as bryces thrusts into you deeply he notices how your belly bulges with every move upward in you, he grabs your hand and lays it over the bulging spot "you feel that baby, thats me deep in you" bryce whispers as a grin creeps across his face.

you writher in your sleep as bryce quickens his pace and the thrust become deeper and harder "i know baby im almost done" bryce apologizes "nghhh bryce" you moan in your sleep "that's right y/n its just me" bryce reassures interlocking his fingers with yours.

with a couple more thrusts bryce cums in you as he huffs loudly and you calm down before going back to sleep, he pulls out of your hole after hours of fucking his dick twitching lightly "you really know how to make a guy feels special" bryce pants kissing your head lightly.

"now lets get you cleaned" bryce grunts picking you up and taking you the bathroom, he holds you in his arms as he waits for the water to heat up, when the water heats up he puts you in before sliding in behind you, you now resting on his sweaty sticky chest.

"br-bryce" you softly say waking up "im right here dont worry" he sweetly reassures wiping the cum off you body with a rag "thanks for this babe" you say nuzzling into his chest "you're welcome" bryce whispers kissing the top of your head before dozing back to sleep.

"such a cutie" he chcukles washing the soap off your body "now lets get you to bed", bryce picks you up out the tub and dries you off before dressing you up in one of his shirts and your shorts, he lays you in bed and pulls you into his chest as he wraps you both in a blanket.

"goodnight bryce" you softly speak before finally going to sleep "goodnight y/n" bryce say tightly hugging you.

[makeyoumine69]

Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering. 

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?" 

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes. 

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend. 

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly. 

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock. 

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand. 

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure. 

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion. 

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead. 

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed. 

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment. 

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day. 

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it. 

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him. 

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.  

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[b00kdiary]

A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel

Alex was falling between worlds- falling through worlds- until she landed with Bryce someplace that was definitely not Hel.

And now there was a male before her, the most beautiful male she had ever seen and something other than fear sparked in her heart.

Wattpad & Ao3

CHAPTER ONE:

One moment Bryce and I were running toward the Gate, leaping through the Gate into the chasm of darkness beyond, Rigelus screaming at our backs.

And then the next we were falling.

Not through the worlds but across – as if some God had gripped us by our hair and yanked us sideways, pulling, pulling, pulling, our screams greeting nothing but stars and darkness and emptiness.

There was a pressure in my brain like someone had wrapped their hands around my throat and squeezed, a tightening that felt like fingers pressing down on my eyes to cave them in.

And so much screaming.

And then... grass.

I panted, a burst of pain lancing through my right shoulder as it collided with the ground, as it collided with the green grass below me. Though my head spun so wildly that for a second, I wondered if it was even real.

But I felt it, under my hands, beyond the Harpy's blood coating my palms and fingers, crusting under my nails- grass, dense and damp with condensation.

Hel had grass.

"Hel," I breathed, and it was pure panic that overrode the spinning in my mind, the pain in my body. Pure and undiluted panic as I realised where we had appeared, what likely prowled these lands. "Bryce-Bryce!"

My knees shook as I rose onto them, and I could feel my body begging me to stop- stop moving, stop fighting, just stop. But I didn't, couldn't, not as flashes of Hel's pets passed my mind's eye, those horrific creatures that had attacked Lunathion that day.

Deathstalkers, Kristallos demons- they would rip us to shreds before we even found Aidas.

"Bryce!" I called again- not too loud. I lifted my chin and I saw the Starsword, a few feet in front of me and then I glanced back- to where Bryce lay groaning on the floor. "Shit, shit-"

The air felt different here, thinner, and as I scrambled over to Bryce, half-crawling, half-stumbling, it took all my strength to make it those few feet before I dropped to my knees at her side.

"Alex," Bryce gritted her teeth as I rolled her onto her back, her tan skin ashen her body convulsing. Running from Rigelus's power, opening the Gate with the Horn, getting us both through to Hel- it was all too much for her.

"We need to go," Her amber eyes darted frantically, to and from my face to the darkening sky above. But even her hand clasping mine felt weak, and I knew that she was on the verge of passing out. "Death-deathstalkers, they'll kill us, Alex, we need to go."

"I know, I know," I rasped and something helpless burned behind my eyes as I held her hand, and watched her sneakers dig into the ground for leverage before giving out a second later. "We're not going to make it far with you like this Bryce, we need shelter, we need-"

The mists before us parted and the words died on my tongue as I beheld the land before me- beheld a sight of beauty. A flowing, crystal blue river, a lawn of verdant green grass, kept green grass, and beyond.

"A city," I gasped, and Bryce must not have heard me, not as she tried and failed to bend her knees under her. But I saw it, saw a city of stars and moonlight and prosperity, the kind that Ruhn had shown me pictures of when he had travelled across the Continents.

But there, through the mystified fog and past that winding river- movement. Demons of Hel.

"Bryce, I know you're tired, but you need to get up," I grab her limpening arm, tucking it against me and something twists in my gut at the wet feel of the Harpy's blood on her clothes and mine, the smell that thickened as I grabbed Bryce by the waist to haul her to her feet.

Her amber eyes opened; her head tilted back against my forearm blinking up at my face. And then her eyes widened.

"Alex-"

Too late.

Steel slid against my throat, cold and sharp and I froze.

A male spoke, like death incarnate against the shell of my ear, so close that I felt a tremor ripple across my skin. I didn't recognise the language, but with the hushed tone and the press of that blade against my carotid, I knew not to move.

I didn't even dare breathe.

Bryce grunted as she slipped from my grip and back to the grass, and as her eyes flashed to whatever demon stood behind me, I saw it in her face- her calling to her powers, just as I did now. But it splintered and cracked, shards slipping through my fingers.

I had nothing left to defend with, and if the dull star at Bryce's chest told me anything, it seemed we were out of luck.

That male voice spoke again, demanded something in that foreign tongue and when I still knelt on the ground, palms exposed, begging any who listened for even a flicker of magic to ignite in me, he growled.

Bryce gasped as his large hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I saw her fighting to rise as he hauled me up and twisted me to face him. "Don't fucking touch her."

But I didn't react. Not as I was met with something, unlike any demon I knew existed.

A male- the most beautiful male I had ever seen before. Golden skin, carved bone structure, raven hair. And those eyes were hazel, a sunburst of honey and whiskey, even if they seemed to gleam with violence.

The sight of him surprised me enough that I stumbled back a step and like the warrior he seemed to be, he reacted, his hand falling to my curved waist and gripping me. Something sparked, like a match being lit, at the touch.

And for a second, I think he felt it too, it seemed like those hazel eyes cleared and his tall, muscular form shivered at that spark. Just for a second and then it was gone.

He released my waist, instead wrapping his hand around my wrist, a glint of a blade shining in my peripheral. He spoke again, a quiet voice that seemed to hold no mercy. But I was dumbfounded as I stared at him.

The scale-like obsidian armour, crafted over acres of lean, corded muscle, and so tall I craned my neck to meet his eyes. And those wings, nothing like Hunt's, no, these were vast, black, leathery, tipped with talons that peered over his broad shoulders.

Hunt.

Ruhn.

Something squeezed in my chest and that beautiful face twisted, brows knitting and soft lips tilting down as tears filled my eyes.

"Take us to Aidas," I begged, and I couldn't stop how my body was shaking now. I glanced back at Bryce, braced on her palms and mascara running down her face- as if she too remembered all we had left behind. "Take us to Aidas, Prince Aidas!"

I couldn't stop the tears as they fell and when I jolted forward, curling my hands into the solid, intricate armour he wore, his eyes flashed in warning. But he didn't pull away. I leaned against him, knees near giving out and he seemed to recognise how desperate I was.

He spoke again, softer this time, that rough hand still holding my wrist.

"What the fuck is he saying?" Bryce choked, and I could hear rustling as if she was fighting with everything, she had in her to get up. I could practically hear her screaming in her mind get the fuck up.

"I don't understand, please, just take us to Prince Aidas. We came to Hel; we came for his help-"

"Hel?" He echoed the word sounding jumbled on his lips. I nodded frantically, my nails breaking against his armour, half my body flush against him now and he held my weight up with ease.

"Yes, yes, Hel!" I looked around, gesturing at the misty surroundings, the sky-scrapping trees, the darkening night sky, "What level? What Pit? What Chasm?" But my words seemed to just confuse him even more, dark brows furrowing.

My eyes screwed shut with frustration and I opened my mouth again, to repeat those same words, hoping this time something would click- and then I felt it, felt them.

"Fuck," I gasped, launching back, my fingers untangling from the male before me as I scrambled away. His hand- brutally scarred, I realised- squeezed, but when he saw the fear and panic sullying my eyes, he reluctantly let go.

And I inched back and back and back until I felt Bryce beside me- and she was shaking just as much as I was. Because stood behind that male, were three more... demons? No, no, Fae, two of them were Fae.

We were surrounded now, outnumbered.

"Shit, shit," Bryce hissed and when my eyes met hers, half-risen, legs knocking together as she tried to stand, I saw it on her face- we were fucked, royally fucked. "We can't fucking take them all."

I sucked in a shallow breath and with it, I steeled my spine and forced the alarm to clear from my face. The first male's eyes scrutinised me, observed as I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, refusing to cower- and I swear his lip tilted at the corner.

"Prince Aidas, we're looking for Prince Aidas," I looked past him, to the two Fae females, beautiful Fae females and another handsome male with wings standing beside them. "Is this Hel?"

One of the females stepped forward, petite in every sense of the word, her dark, cropped hair so at odds with the gleaming silver in her angular eyes- eyes that seemed to look over me, over Bryce, and narrow.

I didn't blame them. We were covered in blood, seeping through our clothes, sticking to our skin, coating our hands and neck, and speckled against our faces. Blood that was not ours.

The other male spoke, just as tall, if not taller than the first with those same hazel eyes and those dark, foreboding wings. He shook his head, long raven hair shifting from his bun, and I watched as the female beside him, pretty and fawn-haired, pursed her lips.

Bryce bared her teeth, red hair swinging in her ponytail as she stepped forward and I fought against my instinct to help, to grab onto her to stop her tumbling over. But we were the prey here, they were the predators and we had to do everything in our power to not become food.

"Is this world Hel?" Bryce asked and something shifted in the air at the sound of the Old Fae Language on her tongue, that petite female flinching at the words. "We need to see Prince Aidas."

The others gaped at the smaller female as if her shock was the most alarming thing about this situation. But I sagged in relief- finally, someone who fucking understood us. But that seemed secondary to her, as that female glanced from the Starsword on the floor at her feet to the first male's dagger at his side.

He slid it free, and it was as if someone had ripped the ground out from under our feet.

"Oh my fucking Gods," It was a twin to the Starsword, a mirror with its dark hilt and engraved blade. And Bryce's hand found mine, tugged me back with her as the Starsword began to glow, vibrating with white magic.

And almost as if in answer the dagger pulsed black.

It fell from the male's hand, alarm breaking through the pure ice hardening his eyes and I would have laughed under different circumstances- laughed at seeing these fully grown, powerful creatures flinching from these weapons.

Except I was fucking terrified too.

"Gwydion," The dark-haired female gasped, red-painted lips parting in shock as she stared down at the Starsword- known by a different name here, a name I had never heard before.

"Please, is this Hel?" I stumbled slightly over the language, unused to the mother tongue of the Old Fae, but still, I locked my intreating gaze onto that female and demanded again, "Is this Hel? We need to find Prince Aidas."

She pursed her lips and Bryce's nails dug into the skin of my palm, her body stiffening under that stare. She looked over us- the mess of make-up smeared across our faces, the clothes and shoes caked in blood, and the bruises and cuts looming over our skin.

So at odds with them, with their outdated attire. For some reason, I thought back to the old fantasy movies Danika used to drag me and Bryce to, just so she could laugh and throw popcorn kernels at the screen.

My heart burned in memory of her.

I saw a blare of blue, bright enough that it had me blinking through the tears that lined my eyes in memory of my friend. As the haze cleared, I locked onto that beautiful male and saw something solemn in his face- like he had felt my grief at that moment.

I didn't have the time to contemplate how.

"No one has spoken that language here in over fifteen thousand years," She spoke, tone clipped and chin high, "I do not know any Aidas here."

"Apollion then," I swallowed, and I felt Bryce sway beside me, hands rubbing at her face, muttering incoherently under her breath. "You must know the Prince of the Pit."

"I do not know of such people," She shook her head, her eyes weary and something in my chest caved, "This is not Hel."

This is not Hel.

Not Hel.

Where the fuck where we?

"Oh Gods," Bryce gasped and this time when she swayed again, I did hold onto her, wrapping her arm over my shoulder and baring her weight. I didn't let the calm mask I donned slip, didn't let them see me as anything other than strong. I couldn't afford to.

"Then where are we?" I asked, voice shaking as I looked between the two females, then the other swaggering male and then finally to the first. And my eyes now noticed the blue jewels embedded into his armour, blazing like sirens.

I locked my gaze on him and for some reason, whatever reason, I felt like he of all of them might take pity on us, have mercy on us. And I let him see that in me, that hope, strong enough that something unreadable whirled through his eyes.

"What world is this?" I breathed, just looking at him and I saw his throat work, that powerful body going unnaturally still. His lips parted as if to speak, but then something happened. I felt it again, that shift in time and space and air.

And then there were two more of them, two more Fae as if they had just appeared- from thin fucking air.

"How fucking many of them are there?" Bryce scoffed, and something like a chuckle rose in me, at how ridiculous this was, how unbelievable. Did the Gods truly hate us so fucking much?

I eyed the female first and watched her wade through the others to the front- lovely, fawn-haired, and her eyes a cloudy blue. They widened slightly at the sight of us, but they held little threat, only weariness.

And then two black, ominous wings erected high behind her, and the breath ripped from my lungs as a third male stepped out- midnight hair, and violet eyes, breathtakingly lovely.

"Ruhn?" My voice broke, and it was Bryce who had to hold me up now, had to keep me from falling to my knees at the sight of that male, so much like the Prince I had left behind on Midgard.

He blinked at me, likely as confused as I was.

And then he turned to the first male, the one with the scarred hands, and they spoke between them. Something almost akin to worry flickering through those hazel eyes as he watched me, the tears now leaking down my face, the haunted expression I wore.

"He-he looks like Ruhn," Bryce gasped, voice barely above a mutter and I heard the emotion clogging her words- for her brother, in the hands of the Asteri, so similar to this male that it physically made us hurt. "Why does he look Ruhn?"

"I don't know, I don't know-" Once the tears started it became hard to stop and Bryce, was beginning to sag in my arms, she was starting to drift in and out of consciousness now and I couldn't hold her for much longer I knew that.

"Please," I looked to the dark-haired female again, and I would be the prey, I would be food, I would chattel if it meant getting them to help us. "My sister is weak, she needs help and-and our world, our home... Midgard, it's in grave danger-"

Hunt, Bryce's mate. My friend.

Ruhn, Bryce's brother. My family and yet so much more.

"Don't- don't tell them anything, Alex," Bryce rasped into my ear, and I was starting to buckle now, teeth gritting as her body got heavier and heavier. "Don't tell-"

"Bryce!" She crumpled to the floor, and I fell with her, knees giving out, slamming into the grass hard enough that I felt the pain through every inch of my body. The Fae before us seemed to startle, but only the first male stepped forward, grass crunching under his boots.

Scarred hands reaching out as if to catch us. Catch me.

"I don't have any magic left, it's-it's depleted, more than depleted," Bryce rested her sweating forehead against my shoulder, and I bit my lip hard enough to taste metal as her eyes fluttered.

"Mine too," I whispered back, and the muttering amongst the others told me they were confused, that us speaking in our native tongue did not sit well with them. They didn't like not knowing what we were saying. "It's going to take a long time for it to come back, we need them to not kill us before then."

"C'mon Alex," Bryce lifted her eyes to mine, dry amusement in them, "Flutter those lashes and throw them a pretty smile, works with the males back home."

Their muttering got louder, and more voices joined in.

"These definitely aren't the males from home," I scoff- only Bryce could make a snarky quip at a time like this. "We don't have this kind of eye candy back home."

"Speak for yourself," Bryce's lip tilted. "Hunt Athalar happens to be my mate."

Her mate. I felt her chest seize in memory of him.

And it's that, that awful hurt in her eyes that makes me exhale with resolve. I draw on every ounce of exhaustion and pain and suffering we had endured these last few days, these last years- and I look back to those Fae with unveiled desperation.

"Please," I say again, and when I picture Ruhn and Hunt, when I picture our parents and our friends, my tears become real, "You have to help us."

The dark-haired female seemed to translate my words to the others, and something almost softened across their faces- kind, these people, they seemed kind. The fawn-haired female, who I noticed had a tapestry of dark whirls tattooed up her right arm, smiled sadly at me and spoke.

"She wants to know your name," the petite one relayed.

I could taste the salt of my tears in my mouth and my throat worked as I searched across all those lovely faces. I stopped at the first male, something tugging at me, an incessant throb that only settled when my eyes found him again.

There was a tense silence as we stared at each other, my arms wrapped around Bryce, holding her weak body to mine, no longer able to open her eyes much less speak. The male saw that, saw that we weren't a threat, at least not right now, and he dipped his head in the barest nod.

As if to say- we won't harm you.

"I'm Alexis Quinlan," I met those violet eyes and tried not to shudder at the thought of Ruhn. I cleared my throat, looking down at Bryce in my embrace, her chest rising and falling- just barely. "This is my sister, Bryce Quinlan."

"Hello, Alexis Quinlan," He stepped forward, a small smile tilting at his gorgeous face and the sound of the Old Language on his tongue was as glorious as night and space itself. "I'm Rhysand."

One moment, Rhysand was smiling and then the next something wholly dark and terrifying eclipsed us.

And then there was nothing but oblivion.

***

Alexis Quinlan- that's what Rhysand said she introduced herself as.

Even the sound of her name made something in my chest spark, a call in answer to her.

I felt as if I knew her somehow, felt as if we had met before- it was that feeling that stopped me from sliding Truth-teller into the junction of her throat when I found her earlier. It was the shiver that ran down me when I grabbed her waist that made me stop.

Made it impossible for me to harm her despite every instinct in me screaming that she was a stranger, a threat against this Court, against my family, against everything I held dear.

Even if another instinct in me whispered that she was anything but.

"Azriel," Rhysand's voice broke through the wall of confusion and intrigue that had erected the moment I laid eyes on her, and it took all my power to slide my gaze to his and look unfazed. "What are you thinking?"

I glanced at where the two females lay, nestled together on the small cot, faces calm as they slumbered. My lips pursed at the first female, Alexis, and the blood that caked her- matted in her long, chocolate hair, crusting against her tawny skin, staining the tight, unusual clothes she wore.

Not a threat and yet she was covered in blood that was not hers.

"They said they came from another world- Midgard- how?" I forced away the incessant thoughts of her, jaw locking as my shadows danced across my form- whispering, whispering, whispering, just about her. "They possess Gwydion but seemed surprised by Truth-Teller."

My hands clenched at my sides; the dagger sheathed at my hip no longer pulsing with that dark, unnatural energy in answer to Gwydion. It was alarming, seeing the blade I had cherished and wielded for so many years suddenly become unfamiliar to me, become other.

"She said their world was in grave danger, that they needed help," Amren mused, her slender arms folding over her chest as she stood beside me and Rhysand, her eyes assessing those females with lethal scrutiny. "Who's to say whatever they fear hasn't followed them straight to us, if the danger even exists."

I thought back to first discovering them- weak, no power left in them, if they had any at all and she had cried- amber eyes welling with tears as she held onto me. I felt it as sure as if it were my own, her grief, her desperation.

It had felt real.

"They did not seem disingenuous," Rhysand's violet eyes moved between Amren and me, the cavernous walls so at odds with the stars in his eyes but seemed to match perfectly with his deep-set frown. "And if they were going to attack, would they not have taken their chances against Azriel, before reinforcements arrived?"

"Whatever they endured has left them defenceless, they couldn't have taken Azriel even if they wanted to," Amren examined her sharp, glistening nails, her tone almost bored, "Wake them Rhysand, all these assumptions are pointless. We need them to tell us the truth."

It seemed unlikely they would tell us anything, not willingly, not if the way Alexis had steeled her spine and raised her chin as my court surrounded her was any indication. And her sister, Bryce, had bared her teeth, enough ire in her eyes to translate the curses that fell from her lips.

These were not weak females, not feeble by any account. My power seemed to rally at that reminder, that they were the enemy until proven otherwise. And as Rhysand let a wave of his magic brush over them, pulling them free from their unconscious- I let my mask slip back into place.

Shadowsinger. Spymaster. Darkness incarnate.

The females stirred, dark lashes fluttering and the three of us braced ourselves as they both sucked in sharp, lungfuls of air and shot up. Bryce, red hair swinging violently, and teeth bared, reached back- for Gwydion- and her painted nails met nothing but air.

But the other female, Alexis, sprung out of the cot and to her feet- but she didn't reach for a weapon. No, my brows rose as her hands curled, palms exposing and- nothing. Nothing came from it.

"She reached for her magic, but there isn't anything left," Rhysand muttered, interest lacing his tone and I nodded gravely in agreement, watching her breath stutter from her in realisation. "They have power, enough that it's her first instinct to call for it."

"And they're trained," I said lowly, watching their eyes flicker over themselves, over each other, and the cavernous walls that surrounded them. "The sister went for Gwydion first, and now they're assessing the space- these are no novices."

Their eyes slid to us as if knowing we spoke about them. And rightfully so fear crept up their faces as they took in the scene, the three of us, the cell they were trapped in and not a weapon or a speck of magic left in them.

The grate behind us hissed and Alexis groaned, muttering something in her language, amusing enough that the female behind her cracked a dry smile. They shifted to stand before the cot, their eyes unflinching upon us.

Rhysand stepped forward and I didn't miss how Alexis stiffened and shifted in front of Bryce- her protector perhaps? Or maybe whatever they were, she thought her sister's life more valuable than her own.

Rhysand spoke in that Old Fae language, translating mind to mind. His hand extended, wreathed in stars and moonlight, two small beans lying in his palm. "Here, swallow this and it will translate our mother tongue to you, allow you to speak it too."

Bryce scoffed, looking at the bean as if it were a vial of poison. My head cocked when Alexis folded her arms across her chest, her dark brow raising at Rhys and she spoke, something sardonic crossing her lovely face.

Rhys laughed- and I glanced at him in surprise. Even Amren's lip quirked at the corner.

"She said," Rhysand's eyes met mine and danced with enough amusement that my shadows hushed, "That she doesn't swallow- no matter how nicely a pretty male may ask."

I chuckled quietly at that, and something akin to approval hummed in my chest as my gaze shifted to hers. And it blared brighter when she tilted her chin in challenge, every inch of her soft body turning still at my attention.

"If we were going to kill you, we wouldn't need to use poison," Amren drawled, Rhysand translating again. The females met each other's eyes and Bryce said something, something that made Alexis flash her a smile- a devastating smile.

Bryce's hand trembled barely as she plucked the beans from Rhysand's palm, careful not to touch him and there was silence as they slipped it between their parted lips, grimacing as they swallowed it dry.

They gasped- in pain I realised, and it became increasingly difficult to stay rooted in place as they bucked, as she writhed, body convulsing, eyes screwed shut. I gritted my teeth as Bryce slumped back onto the bed, reeling, Alexis now bracing her palms against the cave walls to keep herself steady.

"If you were trying to hurt us a fucking knife would have done the job just as well," Alexis scowled, panting as she held the wall. My shadows skittered at the sound of her voice- soft and melodic to my ears.

"Poison might have been better than... whatever the fuck that was," Bryce said, husky voice half-muffled by the hand at her mouth as if she was forcing down bile - an answer to the pain that had thrashed her insides apart moments before.

"My apologies," Rhysand smiled, sounding anything but apologetic and their eyes narrowed as if they knew that. "But the language barrier was growing tedious, wouldn't you say?"

Bryce mumbled something incoherent, and we watched as she rose to her feet again, both their faces tight with discomfort as they steadied themselves, standing side by side as they had before and faced us.

They wanted answers as much as we did it seemed.

"You said your names were Alexis and Bryce Quinlan," Amren took a step forward, and her gaze slid over them, unimpressed. But to their credit they didn't baulk, if anything Alexis mirrored that look, taking in Amren's clothes with veiled humour. "You say you came from another world- if you are to be believed, how did you come here? Why?"

"Where is here?" Bryce swallowed, gaze flickering over the space again, "What world is this?"

"Why do you speak the Old Language?" Amren argued, eyes narrowing.

"Why do you?" Bryce countered, jerking her chin and Alexis rolled her pretty eyes, already tired of the back and forth- it nearly made me smile.

"Why are you covered in blood that is not your own?" Amren's red lips tilted into a cruel smile and- silence. They didn't speak for several moments.

And then something else overtook them. Panic overtook them. They looked down at the blood, covering them and whatever had happened, whatever they endured at home, those memories came back with a vengeance.

Bryce began to hyperventilate, her breath sawing in and out and she looked around the room, eyes wide, as if the walls were beginning to close in.

"Bryce," Alexis grabbed her sister's hand, silver-lined her eyes as she looked at her, "Bryce, don't think about it, don't think about them, please Bryce-"

"We won't harm you," Rhysand frowned, and they seemed to realise the comfort in the words, and the warning too. My throat worked, my head spinning with so many thoughts as she grabbed her sister's hand, anchoring her, and met our eyes again.

"What world is this?" Alexis demanded, and I could see it, as she looked at us one by one, the power she might wield, the magic lying dormant in her veins. She looked to Amren, unafraid. "You said no one has spoken the Old Language here in fifteen thousand years. Why?"

"How did you come to be in possession of the lost sword Gwydion?" Amren countered and this time Alexis bared her teeth, sharp canines exposing with a soft snarl. That sound glided down my spine and over my wings.

"I thought we agreed that we didn't want to have tedious conversations?" She said, and Amren's smile broadened- as if recognising a worthy opponent. "Or should we keep asking each other questions while giving no fucking answers?"

"You mean the Starsword?" Bryce rasped, giving a hint of an answer- but none of us spoke. Her eyes rolled, a mirror to the face her sister had made minutes ago, and she sighed. "It's a family heirloom, It's been in our world since our ancestors brought it over...fifteen thousand years ago."

Alexis met Amren's eyes, and something whirled in them, something sarcastic- as if to say see, that's called answering the fucking question.

My shadows crooned at that look.

"How did you find this world?" Rhysand asked, and rightfully so, they both seemed uneasy in his presence, seemed to recognise that he was in charge.

"We didn't," Alexis sighed, "Like we said: we wanted to go to Hel. We landed here instead."

"How?" Rhysand's voice sharpened and they both grimaced at the sound that came hissing from the grate, as if sensing their High Lord's anger and pleading for a taste.

"How much do you wanna bet they're gonna feed us to whatever the fucks hissing in there?" Bryce mused, wincing at the sound and Alexis nodded, looking at the grate with dread.

"We're not exactly the most palatable females, Bryce," Alexis tucked her long, dark hair behind an arched ear and chuckled wryly, talking as if we weren't even here, "Maybe it'll taste the sarcasm in our blood and be uninterested?"

She quirked a brow, teasing her sister- at a time like this they were teasing each other.

"I can assure you that that they don't discriminate," I flashed my teeth in a wicked smile, and Alexis's eyes locked with mine at the sound of my quiet tone, hands clenching at the cruel amusement in my eyes. "They like the taste of a pretty female, sarcastic or not."

She sucked in a shallow breath at that, her shapely chest rising and falling in waves as she stared at me. There was silence, and I knew the others were looking at us, between us, sensing the battle of wills that raged.

"Look, I just watched my mate and my brother get captured by a group of intergalactic parasites," Bryce snarled, and I straightened at the anger in her voice. "We have no interest in doing anything except finding a way to help them."

Her brother. Not our brother.

I narrowed my eyes and looked between them then- they didn't look remotely alike that much was obvious, nor did they smell alike, their blood completely different. Sisters, but not by blood, sisters in the same way that Rhysand and Cassian were my brothers.

"Explain." That's all Amren said. And they looked at each other, seemed to read the words on each other's faces and then turned back to us and said nothing. Amren sighed, "Just look into their minds already, Rhys."

"Don't even think about it," Alexis hissed, angling herself before her sister again and she glared at Rhysand with true terror in her eyes. A mirror to how Bryce looked at him.

"I do not pry where I am not willingly invited," Rhysand said quietly, his face not yielding even an inch of how he felt. Bryce's eyes narrowed, and Alexis showed another sarcastic smile.

"Gods be good, there are some decent males left in this galaxy," She drawled, utterly unimpressed, "However may we thank you for not invading our minds and rifling through them. Should we bow in the face of such virtue, Bryce?"

"It's definitely something to revere," Bryce looked at her sister, and chuckled, "A male with a code of mind-speaking ethics."

Rhysand paused, entertained if the constellations in his eyes told me anything. And even I fought back my astonishment, my smile, surprised by these females.

"Then we'll have to rely on your words," Rhysand grinned, snapped his fingers, and then settled onto one of the three chairs that appeared behind us, crossing an ankle over a knee.

"I was wrong before Bryce, these males are just like the ones back home," Alexis muttered, rolling her eyes at Rhysand's dramatics, before dropping onto the cot behind her with a sigh. "Beauty and arrogance, nothing new here."

Bryce fought a smile, sitting beside her sister, so close their thighs brushed, as if needing the other for comfort, for support.

"Amren," Rhysand smiled lazily at the frowning female, gesturing to the chair and then to me, "Azriel." I dropped onto the chair, tucking my wings behind me, and bracing my arms on my knees.

Her eyes were on me. As if hearing my name had the same effect as when I had heard hers.

"You say your sword has been in your world for fifteen thousand years?" Rhysand asked, and if I knew Rhys then he was more than pleased that she thought him beautiful, liked that she considered him arrogant.

My stomach lurched at the thought for some reason, her thinking him beautiful. I shoved it down, deep within me, not daring to think of it again. Think of why I even cared.

"Brought by our ancestors- Queen Theia or Prince Pelias, depending on what propaganda you hear." Bryce said a shade hesitantly, but upon seeing Amren stiffen, seeing her react, her brow rose, "You know of them?"

"No one has spoken those names here in a very, very long time," Amren swallowed, and Rhysand had gone still- if Amren was worried, then we all should be. "They once dwelled here."

"So, this is it, this is where we- the Midgard Fae- came from," Alexis was breathless, like the piece of the puzzle they had been missing slid into place. "Our ancestors left this world and went to Midgard, but we forgot where we came from."

Rhysand looked at me and I shook my head, lips pursing, never before heard of such stories involving our people migrating through worlds. But then he looked to Amren- and Cauldron, she looked shaken.

"It's murky, I went in before-" Amren glanced to the girls and didn't continue that sentence, "But when I came out there were rumours- many people vanishing, some said to another world, others said they'd moved to distant lands, rumours that they had been chosen by the Cauldron and spirited away."

Something cold lit through me at her words, getting colder still when Amren lifted her eyes and sharpened them upon the females. "What I want to know is why you came here when you meant to go elsewhere?"

"Join the line, Amren," Alexis said, biting down on her name sharply. She wasn't afraid, stupid, or brave, I couldn't tell but my shadows seemed to enjoy it all the same. "We want to know the same thing- we have no desire to be here."

"You wish to go to Hel," Rhysand said, not a shift in his tone, "To find this Prince Aidas."

At his question, they again glanced at each other and knew just from each other's faces, their eyes, what to do. It was intrinsic, just as I was with my brothers, on killing fields, in council meetings, in situations of peril, I could see exactly what my brothers thought just from something as simple as a blink.

"Allow me to lay out the situation for you, Bryce and Alexis Quinlan," Rhysand leaned forward, and they both met his stare- warriors, fighters, survivors, that's what I saw in them. "We will not torture you or pry into your mind. If you choose to talk or not, is indeed your choice."

"Let me guess," Alexis cocked her head, silken hair sliding over her shoulder as she met those star-flecked eyes, "Just like it's your choice to leave us down here to rot. Until these four walls drive us fucking crazy and we have no choice but to tell you whatever you want."

"That's torture, isn't it, Alex?" Bryce mused sarcastically, her brows furrowing in faux perplexion.

"Yes, it is, Bryce," Alexis drawled, locking her ankles and meeting Rhysand's gaze again, "Chivalrous torture though- because you know, they have a code to follow after all."

Cauldron, under different circumstances these females, I think I would rather like them. Rhys seems to share my sentiment, a rumble of laughter dancing through my mind. Rhys smiled- and snapped his fingers. In an instant, they were clean- of blood, of gore, of whatever else they had been coated in.

Beautiful. That's the word that sprang to me first at the sight of her, just beautiful.

"To incentivise you," Rhys gave a half smile, more menacing than anything else. Another shared glance between the girls and then a defeated sigh.

"The Asteri are ancient, tens of thousands of years old and they arrived in our world fifteen thousand years ago," Bryce said, and something sullen flashed through her eyes, as if in memory.

"What do you mean by arrived?" Rhysand pushed.

"Honestly, we have no idea how they first got to Midgard." Bryce shrugged and Rhysand's face softened at the agony in her eyes, her scent turning cold, as if she could still feel them, whatever they were.

"The history has spun them as liberators, they found Midgard little more than a backwater planet inhabited by humans and animals and they created a perfect empire- a place where creatures and races from other worlds came to through a giant hole called the Northern Rift." Alexis continued, frowning, "It now only opens to Hel, but it used to open to everywhere, anywhere."

"What happened when these creatures arrived from other worlds?" Rhysand asked, his voice tight now.

"The official history is that Hel tried to invade Midgard but the Asteri in all their glory unified these people under one banner and banished the Princes back to Hel. The Northern Rift was fixed, with its destination set on Hel. A massive wall was built to keep out any demons that come through the cracks and the Asteri's indomitable empire lives happily ever after."

"And the unofficial history?" Rhysand asked, a shade more quietly.

Alexis looked at her sister, saw the question in those eyes- and then nodded, solemnly. Bryce turned back to us, bracing herself with a shaky inhale and exhale.

"The Asteri are ancient, immortal beings who harvest off the magic of a world, of its people and then eat it. We call it firstlight, it fuels our world. We're required to hand it over when we reach immortality, we seize our full power through a ritual called the drop and they siphon off pieces of it- like a tax on our magic."

"A tithe," Amren gasps- I've never heard Amren gasp before, even Rhysand looks alarmed by the soft sound. They furrow their brow but when Amren doesn't continue, Alexis swallows, continuing the tale.

"Midgard is one of many in a long line of worlds invaded by the Asteri. They have an entire archive full of planets they've conquered or tried to conquer- we saw it before we came here." Alexis clenched her eyes shut, haunted by the memory, "There were only three planets that managed to kick their asses to the curb- Hel, a planet called Iphraxia, and a world occupied by Fae, the original Starborn Fae."

"My sword- you know it by a different name," Bryce looked to Amren, who nodded slowly, "I think it came from this world- was forged here. It was a part of your history and then vanished, right? Hasn't been seen in fifteen thousand years? It lines up with the timeline of the Starborn Fae arriving in Midgard."

Worry- it bloomed over us, all of us like a phantom touch. And something uneasy furled in my gut, the way these females had appeared, the light and dark call and answer between Gwydion and Truth-teller- it was not right.

"We learned that long before the Asteri found Midgard, they were here- but you kicked them out, you defeated them," Alexis's face turned pleading then, desperate, "How? How did you defeat them?"

"Our history doesn't include any such event like that," Rhysand said- but the look he gave Amren, spoke of something more.

"The Asteri remember you- and they're pissed off," Alexis scoffed, and my shadows lurched at her words, at the threat these Asteri posed. "Rigelus, their leader, basically said it's his personal mission to find this place and fucking destroy it. You're number one on his list."

Alexis trembled as she said his name- Rigelus, and her scent darkened in fear, in repulsion. And something awful rose in me at the smell, at whatever he had done to make her shake that way- something dark and terrible and deadly.

"It is our history, Rhysand," Amren said gravely, and we both went still, "But the Asteri were not known by that name- we called them the Daglan." I jolted, wings rustling, and Rhysand's face turned ashen, golden skin leeching of colour.

Cauldron fucking spare us, the Asteri are the Daglan.

"How did you defeat them?" Alexis tried again, hope beaming in her eyes now, "Do you have any record about how they fell?"

"Nothing beyond old songs of bloody battles and tremendous losses," Amren frowned, and that hope, fuck, it dimmed and dimmed and then completely vanished from her eyes.

"You think that these Asteri want to come back here for revenge?" Rhys asked, shaking his head like he didn't quite believe it. "After fifteen thousand years?"

"These are petty, arrogant bastards, fifteen thousand years is like five minutes when it comes to Rigelus when it comes to his revenge," Alexis said, her face twisting with ice, "He has infinite time and resources to-"

"What resources?" Rhysand cut in, and now, there was not an inch of amusement to be seen on his face. No, his High Lord's instinct had taken over.

"I don't even know where to start explaining it," Alexis shook her head, looked at her sister, frowned and then turned back to us, reaching out a small, shaking hand to Rhys. "I'll show you."

That darkness twisted in my gut again, at the thought of his hand touching hers. I thrust it down with the other ludicrous emotions and thoughts that plagued me.

"One moment," Rhys frowned, knowing better than to fall so easily into a trap. He vanished, and an emotion akin to relief filled me, as she lowered her hand back to her lap with a dazed blink.

"You can teleport here?" Bryce asked, but not really asking.

"We call it winnowing," Amren said, and my lip tilted at their reactions. "Can you two, do it?"

Another short glance- and two heads shaking no. My smirk widened.

"No," Alexis squared her shoulders, meeting my eyes and raising a brow at me, "There are only two Fae who can."

"On your entire planet?" Amren started, "Only two?"

Liar- I let her see that word in my eyes, even as she bared her teeth slightly at me, before turning away, dismissing me.

"Let me guess," Bryce smiled barely, "You have more?"

"Only the most powerful, but yes. Many can here." Amren's words cut off as Rhysand appeared between us again and I lifted a brow at what he held between his hands. "The Veritas Orb?"

"Hold it, think of what you want to show us, and the memories shall be captured within for us to view." Rhysand nodded to the orb at his feet. The girls frowned, muttered something, a word I didn't understand- camera- I think and then nodded in resolve.

Alexis rose on stiff legs, tugging at her clothes almost subconsciously, and no one spoke as she waded forward on silent feet. She paused before it, glanced at Rhysand, then Amren and then me- I tried not to appear like I wanted to kill her.

She bent down, short fingers curling around the orb and my throat worked at the slip of flesh that was revealed as she leaned forward, my eyes averting away from the display of golden skin and full breasts.

She rose, top mercifully slipping back into place and my eyes met hers- they danced with humour, knowing what I had seen, knowing that I had chosen to look away. My shadows flanked me excitedly, even as my face remained a sheet of darkness.

"Here goes nothing," She muttered, stepping back and then she closed her eyes and held that ball. It was a few seconds, if not more, before she fluttered her dark lashes, and then rolled the ball back to Rhysand.

He picked it up, touched the top and everything, all the horrors within began to play out.

Dread, pure fucking dread lined us all.

"Guns," Bryce said pointing to a human man holding some sort of weapon in his hands, hitting a target from miles away. "Brimstone missiles." A furious explosion, a flash of blinding white light and then... everything was in ruin, rubble. "Omega-boats." Some sort of underwater ship, with more of those weapons within.

"Asteri." Alexis breathed and when the male came onto the screen, dark-haired and gangly, she looked away, couldn't face him even in her own memories. And as a white-hot power blasted from him, shattering stone and glass and everything in his way, I could see why.

"You live in such a world?" Rhysand swallowed thickly, and they just nodded. "And they wish to bring all those things here?" Another grim nod.

Her eyes were on me, observing me but I didn't meet them, pushed the feel of them away. I stared at that orb, at the horror shown within and I knew that we were fucked, that against those monstrosities, Prythian would stand little chance.

Guns, missiles, omega-boats, the Asteri- it would be a catastrophe beyond anything that the Hybern war had seen.

"Bryce-" Her voice shook suddenly, panicked and my gaze tore from that orb. To where the other female hunched and groaned- to where her back glowed- "Bryce- Bryce, stop!"

Rhysand's magic pulsed and so did mine- and before they could strike, I lunged.

"Stay the fuck away from her!" Alexis snarled as I stood before them, Truth-teller in my hand, poised to attack. I inched closer- but then that darkness began to leak from the blade again, and I stopped at the sight.

"Put it away," Amren hissed, "It sings for her, and by bringing it close-" It was gone whisked away by my shadows within a blink.

Alexis glowered at me but then she turned and met her sister's pale face and concern softened her expression. But that light still pulsed- bright, shimmering, iridescent- and the panic in both their eyes, told us everything they had tried to hide.

"The glowing letters inked on her back," Amren muttered, Rhys stood by my side now, watching those closely, "They're the same as those in the Book of Breathings."

They seemed to notice the shift in the air, the power rumbling through the stone and the way they stared back, the way she stared back, told me that they wouldn't go down easy.

"Explain or die." 

____________________________

A/N:

HERE WE HAVE IT, CHAPTER ONE OF MY AZRIEL FANFIC!

This is a little sneak peek into what's to come but if you want to read the rest of this fanfic I am uploading it on Wattpad and AO3 (linked) My Wattpad handle is @itzwhatever and my ao3 handle is @b00kdiary

So excited to continue this story, I've been thinking about it for MONTHS.

@hellodarling1357 @charlineraven @starrystarkey93 @mockingjaytributes @nelapeach14 @alessiazeni @bishhh2003 @impossibelle @firebreathingbishqueen @lovely-susie @sarawritestories @hellowinterlane @minnieoo @charlineraven @acotarfics-mharmie009

[throneofsmut]

MASTERLIST

Azriel

Cassian

Rhysand

Eris Vanserra

Lucien Vanserra

Dorian Havilliard

Ruhn Danaan

Tristan Flynn

Xaden Riorson

Poly!

1k Celebration (coming soon. . .)

Kinktober 2023

Kinktober 2024

Wattpad Link

Dividers: @tsunami-of-tears

[buttonsfleas]

KINKTOBER 23

Father Bryce x reader "Maria"

Day 4

Me and my friends were in trouble for skipping biology class. We all had to go into Father Bryce's office, one by one and I was last.

"Meet us when you get out in our dorms." My friend "olivia" told me.

I hated Father Bryce and I had my reasons for it. I was a regular student of his who got in trouble. Almost every week I would be in his office.

I walked into his office and sat on the left chair that faces his desk after closing the door.

"Maria...my least favourite trouble maker. Did you prompt this upon your friends?" He said as he was leaning down with his face a few inches from mine and his hands on the table for support.

I just nodded.

"Speak to me. Now." He said sternly. I'm probably the #1 person who he sees in his office...should I get a reward for that? I haven't yet, so probably not.

"Yeah, sir." I said quietly.

"Sir? Sir!? SIR!?"

"Ma'am, actually." I said, trying to be a smart ass.

"Don't try and be a smart ass with me or I will put you in a whole world of hurt." He said coldly.

I stood up and looked in his eyes, having the same fury building up inside of me like he has every time he has to deal with me and said "then why don't 'cha, huh!?" I said sternly.

He stood still, locking eyes with me a moment before pushing my face on his desk and then standing behind me with his muscular frame towering over my ass. He lifted my skirt up and caressed my ass, making you whimper for him.

"You wanna play? Let's fucking play." He said and then rubbed his hard member in his pants on my body, groaning with each buck his hips made.

He then pulled down my wet snd horny panties, stroking his entrance into me and then taking his cock out and fucking me roughly without a condom, and mercy.

"You're such a slut for me, aren't you? You wanna be fucked by your god damn priest all the time for your satisfaction, don't'cha!? Huh!? You fucking don't like it now, do ya!?" He said things like this to me as if i was a bad dog and he just gets his satisfaction by fucking me until I was gone.

His balls slapped on my pussy lips and his cock, our bodied made wet, slapping noises and loud groans and whimpers that showed how much we needed eachother. Our bodies were hot and horny from what was happening and I realised how much he wanted this. He needed this. I couldn't belive I was doing this with my own priest. Its like if I were in a fever dream.

His cock became more hard and he was fucking me roughly and then I needed more from him, I needed to have what he wanted from me, his child. His cock felt like it was going to explode and then he finally did it. My priest and head teacher cummed inside of me.

He took his cock out and then pulled my panties and skirt up and gave me a few kisses on my neck.

"Mmmhhh...you're my good girl. My girl." He whispered softly to me as I sat on his lap as he sat in his desk-chair and he wrapped his arm around my waist whilst removing all of the detentions I had that month.

[effiepie2008]

Peaky blinders:

Tommy Shelby

Alfie Solomons

OC Sister reader series (-Alfie Solomons )

13 resons why:

Zach Dumpy

Bryce Walker 

Montgomery Del la cruz

Cyrus

Clay Jensen - OC sister

Stranger things:

Steve Harrington

Jim Hopper

Teen wolf:

Derek Hale

Peter Hale

Stiles Stilinski

Brett Talbot

Stiles - OC sister 

[ma1dmer]

Crescent City - Bryce Quinlan NSFW

no one asked for this, or will ever ask for this, but I am gay so jot that down

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): she wants to simply lay there, needs you both to just stay cuddled up for a bit and talk, she suggest a warm shower for the both of you while wiggling her eyebrows but you both know you're probably too tired for even that

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):  legs, she’ll kiss her way up from your ankle to your knee and then in between your thighs before she throws them over her shoulders, she’ll leave lipstick smudges all the way up your legs for everyone to see

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): will cheekily lick her fingers after she helps you finish, moaning suggestively before bringing you in for a kiss

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): she loves morning sex, loves how soft and hazy everything feels how she doesn’t even have to think, just feel, pushes up against you and lets her hands explore while yours do the same, she so rarely allows herself to be truly vulnerable so she values these moments a lot, when you are both still warm and soft from sleep and she can simply let go of every worry and simply feel you against her

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): she has plenty of experience ,but even so when it comes to someone she truly has feelings for things feel different for her, she gets giddy and impatient 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): face to face so she can reach for you and moan into your mouth or watch your expression fall apart for her, she’ll flutter her eyelashes prettily at you as you both cum

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): definitely on the more goofy side, she wants you to be comfortable and relaxed, will let her fingers wander so you squirm under her or throw a cheesy pun to have you giggling, her partner needs to also be her best friend, so comfort and matching her energy is extremely important for her

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): she exfoliates and adds a bunch of lotions, so she is soft and smooth and always smells nice, she also shaves everything besides a small landing strip above her slit for the aesthetic

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): she can be very passionate but usually romance is reserved for before or after sex

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): wants you to watch her, she puts on a good show, trailing her hands up her body, angling herself just right , so you get the perfect view of her fingers deep inside herself, brings out a toy, she has definitely also recorded a video or two in your phone for the days you are both busy

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): body worship, filming, sexting etc

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): she is not really shy, if she thinks she can get away with it, she’ll try, loves the thrill of it

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): dancing, wether at the club or simply joining her in practicing she gets so into it, wraps her arms around you and whispers in your ear

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): degradation of any kind for obvious reasons, it gets her angry and even if you don’t mean anything she can’t bring herself to just brush it off, she also won’t do it back to you either

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): she has a very skilled tongue that she loves putting to good use, some of her dominance slips over as she devours you, uses her hands and mouth to get you off on her tongue

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): depends on the mood she is in

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): loves them, giggles as she pulls you or you pull her in some private corner, kissing you so passionately it takes your breath away before slowly letting her hands trail down your body

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): she loves trying out new things , especially with someone she trusts and is comfortable with

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): it really depends, she has her more high energy days and the days she can barely do anything but lay there and cling to you

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): she gets more into buying new toys when you two start dating, wants to experiment with various things and brings them into the bedroom for the both of you to enjoy

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): loves riling you up, its her bread and butter , some hip swaying, something risque whispered in your ear at an inappropriate time etc and then loves acting as if she hasn't done anything, her eyes alight with mischief, her smirk cocky and far too pleased with herself

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): she is very good at controlling herself ,she just doesn't see why she should, especially if she is enjoying herself, wants you to know how into it she is so she sometimes over exaggerates ,its fine though because she sounds so good , the closer to cumming she gets the filthier she gets with her words

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): loves face sitting, if you die ,you die 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): she goes through various phases, sometimes she barely wants you to touch her others she is trying to woo you into her bed every day, she is not shy about it either

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): she always asks to be cuddled but midway through the night she somehow ends up wrapped around you, a leg over your stomach her arms around your head

[hannzoaks]

someone plz tag me in hunt athalar x reader fics i feel like i can’t find any omg

[shadowdaddies]

Hi

Hope everything is good

Could I request smut with flynn

I NEVER see any fics of him

Thanks so much

Hi, hope you're doing well! Agreed there should be more Flynn content. I'm hoping we get more of him in HOFAS because he's a good character

More

Tristan Flynn x f!Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, drinking, reference to drugs, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, minors dni

You clutched Bryce’s hand as she jostled her way through the crowd, the air thick with mirthroot and beer. You waded your way past the swarms of people until you reached the upstairs game room. Finally finding enough space to breathe, you spotted the bar and headed over with Bryce. 

Leaning against the counter, you squeezed the lime into your drink, stirring while you scanned the space. Your heart stopped, mouth going dry as your gaze locked with the most striking pair of green eyes you had ever seen. Unable to stop the blush that crept over your cheeks every time you saw Tristan Flynn, you opted for taking a sip of your cool drink. 

Bryce gave you a knowing smirk, taking your hand in hers once more as she draped it over her shoulder, swaying her curvy hips as she pulled you over to where Flynn sat along with Ruhn and Declan. Ruhn’s eyes widened, the prince shooting up from his seat as he greeted you and Bryce, wrapping each of you in a hug. You moved to take the open seat next to Declan, but Bryce slid in before you could, a knowing smile painting her lips as she winked at you.

The blush on your cheeks deepened as you realized the only place to sit among your friends was a tiny spot on the couch next to Flynn. “Come on sweetheart, I don’t bite,” the gorgeous male purred with a wink. 

You swallowed thickly as you took your spot next to him on the couch, warmth emanating from his toned arm that brushed yours. Green eyes pierced the side of your face, tracking the movement of your throat as you took another sip of your drink. “I’m glad you came tonight,” Flynn murmured in your ear, his fingertips brushing your thigh.

Your eyes flicked to his, locking on his gaze as a lock of wavy brown hair fell in his face, and you subconsciously brushed it away. His breath caught, and you nervously cleared your throat, muscles stiffening under the pressure of his gaze. “I’m surprised some pretty female hasn’t pulled you away by now,” you retorted, hoping to deflect his attention from noticing how nervous you were. 

Instead, Flynn brushed a bit of hair back from your shoulder, leaning in so that his warm breath brushed the skin of your neck. “I’ve been waiting for you to show. Pull me away at any time, sweetheart.” 

Heart pounding in your chest, you turned to Flynn, his full lips parted slightly as his tongue flicked out, emerald eyes searing into you. You leaned into him without thought, savoring the warmth as his hand tentatively moved along your thigh, pulling you closer. Your noses were touching when Bryce shouted, “get a room!” causing you to jump back and glare at her. 

Everyone was watching with amusement, and you turned back to see that Flynn’s eyes had never left you. In a moment of bravery, you leaned in, savoring his scent as you whispered, “how about we get a room?”

You’d barely pulled away to gauge his reaction when the male swept you into his arms, carrying you bridal style up the stairs to his room as your friends wolf-whistled behind you. Blushing furiously, you held onto Flynn as he kicked the door shut behind you, locking the door for privacy. 

Suddenly flying through the air, you landed on the plush mattress as Flynn ripped his shirt off. Your eyes glazed over as you practically drooled at the sight of his tanned, toned chest. Gods, he was unfairly beautiful, and he knew it. With a wicked grin, Flynn leaned down over your body, hands gripping your hips with a force as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. 

Gasping, your legs instinctively tightened around his waist. He pried them apart with ease, settling down on his knees in front of you, your legs spread under his grip as your dress rode up, your black lace underwear the only barrier between him and your heat. 

Flynn blew out a breath, the cold air hitting your pussy and making you arch into him. You babbled incoherent pleas, desperate for more as he licked and sucked his way up your thighs. Teeth grazing over the fabric covering your clit, Flynn sucked softly before tugging your panties down with his teeth.

Breathless, you managed to lift your head to see him smirking at you, tongue flicking out as he licked a stripe up the soiled fabric of your underwear before stuffing them in his back pocket. Hands held your knees apart in a vice grip, rendering your attempts at moving useless as Flynn inhaled the scent of your arousal, a pleased look on his face before he dove in. 

He licked your clit at an impossible speed, eliciting sounds you didn’t know you could make as you writhed under him. Moving to pin both of your legs with one arm, Flynn brought a finger to swipe the slick of your pussy, his tongue sucking on your clit harshly. You let out a scream as his finger dipped inside you, curling against your wall at a rapid pace. The coil inside of you was tightening quickly, vision fading in and out as he added a second finger, the pressure too much to handle as your eyes rolled back. Shaky breaths left your lips before you screamed Flynn’s name, feeling his smirk against your clit as he continued to pump his fingers into you. 

Trashing against the sheets as he worked you into overstimulation, you begged Flynn, “please fuck me, I need you inside of me now.” As if he didn’t hear you, Flynn continued his assault on your pussy, your hands finding his chestnut curls as you held on to him, your only tether to this world as you shook against the bed. 

You reached your second high, feeling a rush of new arousal flooding Flynn’s face as you came down, muscles going lax as he climbed over you. A cocky smirk graced his lips as you brought a hand to his cheek, drawing him closer. His lips melded with yours, the soft warmth and taste of you on his tongue as he ground against you. 

“Please,” you begged for a countless time tonight, bringing your hand to palm his hard cock through his jeans. Flynn threw his head back, instinctively thrusting into your hand as you worked him, unbuttoning his pants as he shucked the restrictive fabric off, leaving the both of you completely bare. 

Licking your palm, you brought it down to lightly grip his cock, stroking his length as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He gasped into your mouth, a smirk now on your lips as you threaded your free hand through his hair, pulling him as close as you were able. “Please, fuck me,” you begged, thumb brushing over his tip as you lined his cock at your entrance.

Flynn’s head dropped into your neck, breathing heavy as he turned putty in your hands. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, holding you as he bit down on your neck and thrust deeply inside of you. Low moans escaped both of you as he settled, and you turned to press a kiss to his earlobe, tugging in silent request for more.

Flynn began thrusting at a relentless pace, hitting impossibly deep inside of you each time as you moaned and screamed under him. You were panting, vision blacking out when his cock finally twitched inside of you, and you rolled your hips against his as he neared his own orgasm. 

Licking his thumb, he brought the finger down to your clit, your back arching as you released a lewd moan at the feeling. Your third orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, rolling through you repeatedly as you were vaguely aware of Flynn cumming as well, his wet seed splattering on your stomach. 

You moved to get up and leave, but Flynn stopped you, grabbing a damp cloth, cleaning you up before he laid next to you. Pulling the covers over the both of you, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, mumbling sleepily into your ear. “Thank you for tonight, beautiful.” 

[xcaptain-winterx]

YASSSSSS🤧🤧🤧😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨🥰🥰🥰🥰

Oh my baby Justin🤧 he’s to soft for this world. This place will ruin him. They will soon have to whores😮‍💨

Debauched, Deranged, & Defiled: Part 3, Bryce Langley

Summary:  Bryce likes having an audience

Pairings:  Bryce Langley X Reader X Justin Capshaw

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, D/s dynamics, degradation, oral sex (M receiving), slapping, two way mirror, drool, spit, choking, neck bulge kink, tears, sucking, anal play, creampie, mentions of future anal sex between two men, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  1.7K

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[steviebbboi]

Good For It

Pairing: Ari Levinson x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.1k~ (no idea how this happened) 🫣

Summary: Ari was deeply misunderstood by everyone except you. What happens when someone tries to hurt the one person he cares about the most?

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @stargazingfangirl18 writing challenge, "Siri's Birthday Bonenanza"~ Thank you to Siri for hosting this, and hoping that you all enjoy this as much I loved writing it :)

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; Mentions/threats of violence, mentions of drugging reader (not by Ari), mentions of sexual harassment (again, not by Ari), explicit language, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), p in v, angst, fluff, mentions of trauma, PTSD-like symptoms, Lumberjack!Ari, Veteran!Ari.

Prompts: Ari Levinson x F!Reader feat. Bryce Langley (not involved with Reader at all) + "The moment you or babe realize you’re in love with the other" + "Scary!babe is in love and a simp for you" + "Playful trolling/banter"

Quote Prompts: “Why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” + “Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” + “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. + “Can you just…hold me, please?”

Trope Prompt: Scary, dangerous!babe who is only soft with you

Kink(s) Prompt: Size kink + Praise kink + Squirting + Manhandling +soft!dom (ish) + Possessive!babe + breeding (ish?)

Other kinks: mild choking, spanking, overstimulation (if I missed any TW, feel free to lmk)~

Rowdy laughter and the clinking of glasses came into earshot as you pushed the bar doors open. You greeted the bouncer as you usually did and gave a quick scan of the back of the bar. Once you found who you were looking for, you felt your lips quirk into a small smile as you headed toward the back.

Ari Levinson, the local town recluse with only four friends (including yourself and the bouncer-ish). He’s a retired military veteran and is known as “that weird, scary dude who lives alone up in the mountains.” To be fair, the town’s whispered descriptions of him were not entirely inaccurate.

You could feel the regular, daily stares coming in hot as you continued walking toward the back booths. Although you were used to it at this point, you could feel yourself becoming more tense as the whispers started to creep through.

A tired sigh escaped your lips as you passed by one woman in particular who seemed to always let out a muttered comment under her breath—all synonymous with criticism that you never took lightly.

“Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’ll end up in the morgue someday.”

“He just has her wrapped around his finger, huh? Someone should say something.”

“You know he almost beat a guy to death a year ago. What is a sweet girl like her doing with a guy like him?”

“Nobody told her to leave the undesirables alone.”

Any and all comments surrounding Ari’s character felt crushing every time you heard them. In the beginning of your relationship with Ari, you used to cry yourself to sleep every night because some of the comments were so scathing. All these people were just judging you because you were with a person that you deeply cared about.

Ari would be there every night to soothe you (he didn’t care as much about what others said). He would wipe your tears by holding your face in his big hands and kiss you until you couldn’t remember what you were crying about in the first place.

See, there are things that people don’t know about Ari. They judged him based on his background and one incident at the mill. He was hulking over everyone at 6'5", his stature and demeanor a bit more closed off and quiet. When people tried to say hi to him, he would give them a small grunt and continue on his way. He wasn’t a small man by any means, emotionally or physically (of which, your size difference is something you both indulge in, in many ways).

The problem was that they only saw and perceived things from the surface. They didn’t see all of the qualities underneath that make him so desirable, wanted, and valuable to you. With Ari, you felt protected, safe, and secure in ways that you had never experienced before. You never felt disrespected by him in the slightest. People didn’t see that, even through his dark aimless stares or quiet mumbles and grumbles, he still cared and was incredibly kind.

One day, you were working furiously on your laptop as you sat on Ari’s couch. Your work was demanding, and more often than not, you would work your remote 9-to-5 job straight through without taking care of yourself. Ari only ever gazed at you with curiosity and never said anything about it. Although you could tell from his stare that he disapproved of your self-negligence. The next time you sat working, Ari placed some dinner on the coffee table in front of you. The smell of the hot, homemade food made your tummy rumble as you stopped typing after four hours of working nonstop to look up at him with surprise.

“Eat,” Ari said simply and reached out to stroke the exposed skin peeking out from underneath the blanket on top of you before heading back to the kitchen. You usually wouldn’t let anything get in the way of your work, but his act of care was so wholesome and precious that you stopped and ate the whole thing.

Ari came back once you were finished to sit down next to you under the blanket with a book. He made an effort to get comfortable by placing his large, calloused hand on your inner thigh underneath your now-shared afghan before getting back to his reading. You could only stare at him, astonished by how this beefy, quiet giant of a man managed to not only get you to pause your work but also make you eat (disrupting your chain of focus and habits was not an easy feat, just ask your ex-partners). He let out another deep grumble when you kissed his bearded cheek with a soft thank you as you put away your laptop and leaned into his shoulder to read with him.

It was then that you realized Ari, depicted as this scary, violent, tainted, isolated person, was deeply misunderstood.

It was also the moment that you realized you were deeply in love with him.

Coming out of your reverie, you let out the tension that had been carried in your chest as you saw your man start to turn as you finally approached the booth. Your soft smile turned into a genuine grin when your eyes met his. You greeted Sammy (his third friend) as you went to scoot next to Ari. You put an arm around him to give a gentle rub on his large back while giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. As usual, he gave you a quiet, deep mumble of acknowledgement but proceeded to put his muscular arm around you protectively, giving you the opportunity to place the hand that had been shoved to your side around his thick, jean-clad thigh.

“What are we talking about?” You engaged Sammy first, knowing that Ari would likely be more of an active listener, as he usually was.

Sammy and Ari were in service together, along with Rachel (the bartender and the fourth friend, completing the group). Ari was noticeably relaxed with them, as he was with you, but you had no idea how they got the man to talk. You heard stories of their time in active duty, but they never went beyond surface-level details. You knew Ari had done some dangerous work during his time in the military; he never really talked about it, but you could surmise that he was still recovering from it, especially since that incident a year ago.

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Rachel threw beer on a guy who was trying to score free drinks by hitting on her,” Sammy said with a smirk.

You laughed freely. “Man, I wish I had been there to see it! Some newbie at the office messed something up, and who has to fix it? Me, of course.” You rolled your eyes and put a hand to your forehead to rub away the fatigue.

“Did you eat, baby?” Ari cut in quietly. You turned to meet his concerned gaze and gave him a soft smile with a rub to his knee. “Yes, honey. I was able to have my assistant run out to grab some grub. Don’t worry.”

He gave another affirmative grunt with a nod and shifted to hand you a beer that was hidden at the end of the table. You huffed out a quiet laugh before giving him one last squeeze on the knee before reaching for the drink gratefully. Of course, Ari had already gotten you a drink but only gave it to you after you gave your daily report. He was always looking after you.

“When are they going to gear up and give you that promotion?” Sammy asked, shaking his head.

You gave a despondent shake before sighing. “You know, they’re a small company. I think we’re understaffed as it is right now. That’s why these new hires keep making these small mistakes.”

“Aaaand that’s why they need to promote you to manager, to teach some sense into ‘em! Ari’s always sayin’ you’d be a great supervisor.” He replied with an encouraging smile.

Now you were the one letting out a small questioning mumble while looking down at your drink bashfully. You felt Ari stroke the back of your arm with a firm gentleness, and you knew it really meant, “Yes, you do deserve more.” 

This kind of touch was often a reminder for you to believe in yourself and that you deserved better things (a tough job for your ex-partners, you might add). Ari had seemingly broken a cycle for you, helping you genuinely care about yourself in a way you hadn’t before. (All the ways he protects you are just sickeningly cute, aren’t they?)

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gave Sammy a stronger “hm” in response and said, “I know. I mean, when will these bastards just wake up?”

Sammy gave a shout of laughter and a “hell yeah”  before giving you another supportive response. You turned to Ari briefly to give him another smile of appreciation, only to notice that he was already looking at you. But the glint in his eyes… you hadn’t seen that before. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Sammy announcing he was going back to the bar for another drink.

The two of you were now alone, just observing each other. A shiver ran down your spine at his piercing gaze as you asked quietly, “Everything okay, honey?”

At your reserved tone, Ari gave you a subtle, tilted smile. “I love you,” he said simply.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your eyes widen at his surprise revelation. You knew that you loved Ari, maybe even before you realized it yourself. There were many ways the two of you showed your love and care for each other—from cooking food for each other to gentle caresses during more intimate moments. However, this was the first time either of you had ever said it out loud.

Now you were the one stumbling over your words, struggling to respond, swallowing thickly as you tried to say it back. It’s not that you felt you couldn’t, but the man had just revealed that he loved you, in a bar no less! The guy was usually full of grumbles, deep hums, and mumbles. You never would have expected him to reveal something so vulnerable and intimate in an environment like this. You figured your actions would be proof enough, and that was okay with you. You accepted that about Ari—you never expected him to actually say it.

At your floundering, Ari had a full-on smirk on his handsome face. He seemed to appreciate how the tables had turned. You stopped your mumbles once you saw his reaction to your shock and squinted your eyes in fake indignation. His smirk only grew wider, the glint you noticed earlier now turning into an affectionate mirth that you knew Ari reserved just for you.

“Damn him and his sexy, lumberjack hotness,” you thought to yourself. You and Ari both knew you loved it when he teased you like this. You pretended to be upset, but it was all part of how well the two of you bantered throughout your relationship.

Most of your relationship involved speaking in a language your friends couldn’t quite understand, which only played into the image of how polar opposites you two were. But you and Ari reveled in it, just like Ari was now. You were more embarrassed at being caught stumbling on your words, and felt the need to beat him in your little game. The man hadn’t even said anything in the past minute, and he was already winning. He knew how you felt about him; it was just fun for him to see you all flustered.

“HA– alright, Mr. Grumbles. I’m going to get us some more drinks. Did you want anything else?” you said begrudgingly while gathering your glasses to bring back to the bar.

“No, baby. Sammy said he was going to get us some, though.” Ari conceded his smirk (and victory). Speak of the devil, and he shall appear—Sammy came up behind you to slide back into the booth, but with only one drink in his hand. You and Ari stared at him and then looked back at the beer with questioning eyes.

Sammy got comfortable and noticed both of your stares only when he realized that nobody was talking. Glancing down at his own drink, then toward your empty glasses, and back to your amused stares again, he muttered abashedly, “You didn’t say I had to get you another drink too.”

You let out a small giggle and looked back at Ari again to repeat, “Did you want anything else, baby?”

Ari responded with the same amusement in his tone. “No, love.” He grinned back at you as he said the endearment, which only furthered your fake ire. You pouted your lips in playful anger and met his beguiled stare with your own before standing up from the booth.

As you gathered the empty glasses again, you saw Ari attempting to grab them from you as he also stood up from his seat.

“No– don’t worry, Ari. I’ve got it,” you reassured him, but he ignored you and responded only with a grunt. He proceeded to scoot out of the small booth, hunched over the table.

Letting the glasses go, you pressed down on Ari’s shoulders hard to shove him back into his seat. His eyes widened in surprise at the forceful touch as he sat back down, but you knew you hadn’t hurt him. If anything, he lurched back from you since he didn’t want to bump into you while attempting to get out.

“Goddammit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” you scolded him in feigned anger. You grabbed the glasses quickly and scurried away before he could respond. You only heard him and Sammy laughing at your retreat before the chatter from the other end of the bar became more prominent as you approached.

Setting the two glasses down on an empty section of the bar top, you leaned over slightly to catch Rachel’s perceptive gaze. She nodded with a smile on her face as she made you two new drinks. Glancing around the rest of the bar with mild interest, you couldn’t help but reflect on Ari’s intimate reveal.

A smile spread onto your lips, and you let out a small laugh to yourself. You were in love with a man who communicated with short hums and grunts, and with only three words—he had unraveled you. You felt so happy in that moment to be with someone who could meet you where you were, for once.

At first, you were intimidated by the looming lumberjack, but as you got to know each other, you grew to understand that he didn’t need big, fancy words to connect with you. Ari was the kind of partner who was straightforward with you and never hid anything maliciously while still respecting the integrity of your relationship. You felt grateful to be a part of each other’s lives.

Floating mindlessly in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the man staring at you across the bar. You also didn’t notice him approaching until you heard him say, “Hey there, what are you smiling about, sweetheart?”

Glancing over, the giddiness you felt thinking about your relationship with Ari was now interrupted by feelings of annoyance and suspicion. “I’m good, thanks,” you responded dismissively, not even bothering to answer his question.

“Aw, c’mon—just wanna talk a bit. Hey, are you with anyone right now?” the guy persisted.

Looking at the intrusive person, you could tell he was a bit younger than you. His polo shirt was disheveled, and his demeanor seemed careless. If his side-swept hair wasn’t an indication of his immaturity, it was the way he reeked of alcohol and weed. A smug smile lifted on his face as he assumed you were checking him out, when in reality, you were trying to piece together how to shut this down and walk around him on your way back to the booth.

“Uh, I am. Just waiting for our drinks,” you answered shortly, hoping your dismissiveness would be enough to make him go away. Heckling men never seem to take the hint when you’re not interested, and it seems like telling them off only riles them up more.

“Well, if I were your friend, I certainly wouldn’t have let you come up here by yourself. There are some weirdos out here, y’know?” He leaned onto the bar and into you, his body too close for comfort. You leaned back and crossed your arms defensively.

“I’m sorry—let me? Listen, kid—you got one thing right: there are weirdos out here. Almost like some weirdos just don’t seem to get the hint when they’re harassing women who only want to be left alone by the bar.” You couldn’t hold in your snark as this misogynistic asshole seemed to only smile wider at your reactions.

“Right! That’s why you’re lucky I’m here, sweetheart. Considering that I’m being so helpful by giving you this piece of advice, I think that now makes us friends.” He laughed, ignoring your irritation.

“Everything okay here?” You looked up to find Rachel putting down the newly made beers while looking the stranger dead in the eyes. You could see him squirm a bit, and you stifled a giggle—you were always amused to see her put men in their place.

“It’s okay, Rach. I’m heading back to those two dummies, anyway.” You left some bills on the counter. Rachel gave you a look since she always insisted drinks were on the house for you, but you never really listened. She took the money anyway, gave the guy one last daggered look, and made a small dismissive sound before leaving to attend to other customers.

Ignoring Rachel’s reaction, he turned to you and said, “Well, where are these two dummies you speak of? Are they cute like you?” He looked over at the general crowd of women lingering behind you.

You cleared your throat at his blatant ignorance. “Actually, my two dummies are over there.” You pointed to the back where Sammy and Ari’s profiles could be briefly seen.

He followed your hand to see the two men sitting there and let out a surprised “ah.” He looked back at you after seeing the men but couldn’t help but do a double take once he recognized one of them.

“Wait, you’re that guy’s friend?” he asked incredulously, looking at you expectantly.

You gave him a warning look and made an affronted sound. “Careful. ‘Friends’ don’t talk to their friends like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You gestured to take your drinks, which seemed to snap him out of his shock.

“Hey, hey—wait! Relax, relax. That just took me off guard, but… I mean, you do know what he did, right?” He gave you the same look others would give you, almost disgusted, as if he couldn’t believe a ‘girl like you’ would be with a ‘guy like him.’

Your eyes narrowed and you huffed an exasperated breath, preparing to retort, but were interrupted by a voice yelling, “Yo, Bryce, hurry up!” You looked to the end of the bar to see another young man in a polo (god, these entitled kids are a dime a dozen) looking over at you. They wore the same cocky, smug smiles, and you were immediately done with this interaction.

Letting out a scoff, you replied, “Well, Bryce, it’s been real. Now, please, leave me alone.” Not mincing words nor your mocking tone, you started to grab your drinks when you froze in place, frowning as you noticed one of your drinks had an abnormal fizz on top.

“Are you kidding me? Did he just…?” Your thoughts felt scattered as you realized that your drink had been spiked. Your frown persisted as you looked back at Bryce in disbelief. “Did you really just do that?”

Bryce looked nonchalant at your question and, almost innocently, responded, “What are you talking about, sweetheart?” He had a dopey look on his face, but he couldn’t even hide his rising grin at your growing outrage. You knew you weren’t overreacting and you knew what you saw in your drink.

“You just spiked my drink—what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You accused and turned to catch Rachel’s attention. A strong grip twisted your arm back to Bryce as he looked at you with something completely vile in his eyes. He leaned in close to whisper in your ear with venom as you leaned back and attempted to get his hand off you. “Stuck-up bitch. You know you would’ve been asking for it if you didn’t have your killer boyfriend to cover you.”

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you panic even more, his unrelenting grip getting tighter by the second. You shouted while trying to push him off you, “Get the fuck off of me! LET GO!”

You flailed your limbs more in your attempts to make a scene. You heard a barstool crash to the ground loudly, and all of a sudden Bryce’s fingers were no longer around your arm. The only thing in your vision was a person’s vast back.

Ari.

Catching your breath from your panic, the sounds of the bar that had seemed to mute during your thrashing suddenly tuned back in. You registered pained groans and the utter silence, yet concerned murmurs scattered across the room. Looking over from behind Ari’s back, you saw Sammy putting a hand in between Ari and Bryce, who was now on the floor, clutching his nose with blood spilling out rapidly.

“You fucking prick! I’ll press charges!” Bryce shouted from the ground as his friends crowded around him, trying to get him up.

Rachel raised her voice to be heard amidst the chaos and said, “I saw what happened, asshole. I’d be happy to call the cops and let them know about you and your buddies’ attempts to sexually harass my customers.”

Bryce, now being held up by his friends, looked over at Rachel menacingly. Rachel didn’t back down and walked towards the phone on the wall. “Shall we?”

Bryce hissed in pain from his new injury and looked back to meet Ari’s stone-cold eyes. Sammy turned to face Bryce and his friends with a look of caution, almost ready to get into a fight if it came to that.

Bryce took a heavy gulp, attempting to stare Ari down with bravado. He then locked his jaw and scoffed, “Whatever, I’m out of here.”

The bouncer suddenly appeared behind you, making you startle slightly, and pushed the group toward the exit. As they got closer, you hid yourself behind Ari’s back and gripped his shirt tightly for comfort. You could feel Ari’s hand reach for your waist, and you assumed he could sense your shaking and wanted to offer you more protection and ease.

In your peripheral vision, you could see and feel Bryce’s eyes staring at you, almost as if he wanted to say one last thing. But Ari’s grip on your waist tightened as he turned to face Bryce directly, orienting you with him and blocking his gaze from you. Though you couldn’t see it, Ari looked deadly in that moment, removing any access Bryce had to your presence.

“If you ever come back in here, and if I ever see you near her again, I will hurt you,” Ari said quietly, but his warning reverberated across the large space. “And you know that I’m good for it.”

Bryce, still clutching his nose, averted his gaze and continued moving toward the exit.

As the group exited, people still looked over but gradually returned to their tables and muttered conversations. The jukebox came back on at a lower volume, and people eventually resumed their activities.

You were still clutching Ari’s back as you released a sigh of relief. You leaned into him, your forehead resting between his shoulders. The adrenaline had left you with residual energy, and it was noticeably hard for you to regulate your emotions. Ari heard you release one more exhale in an attempt to calm down before he turned to meet your tight grip with his strong hands.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, baby.” He released your hands with one last squeeze and cupped your face sweetly. He whispered more reassurances as he pulled your face close to his and leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Sammy, we’re gonna get going.” Ari glanced at the teary-eyed look on your face and knew you couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t have expected you to, either—he was accustomed to chaotic and loud environments, able to regulate during scary situations. Ari knew this was exceptionally jarring for you, and he desperately wanted to protect you from any feelings of unsafety. His priority since you entered his life was to preserve your softness, and if his hard exterior could help do that, he would go to any length to ensure you felt secure with him.

“Of course, check in and get home safe.” You also turned to give Sammy and Rachel a soft smile and a quiet ‘thank you.’ If there was any effort to expend, it would be that.

They returned your smile with reminders to be safe while driving home, and Ari took your small hand in his to lead you to the exit. You both passed by the bouncer, who returned Ari’s thanks for earlier with an affirmative nod and also gave you a parting “feel better.” You muttered your appreciation and clutched Ari’s forearm with your other hand still in his. You felt that if you weren’t right by his side, if he weren’t touching you, the panic would rush back in.

On the car ride back to Ari’s place, you kept yourself as close to him as possible. The truck’s seats facilitated closeness; Ari wrapped his right arm around you protectively while driving with his left.

Ari appreciated that you felt safe with him. Unbeknownst to you, his own panic about losing you crept in whenever you weren’t by his side.

His arm wrapped around you tighter, and his caress provided comfort for him as well during the rest of the ride home.

Later that night, after Ari got out of the shower, you noticed cuts on his knuckles from his punch earlier.

“Ari, why didn’t you say anything earlier? Come here.” You scolded him as you led the giant of a man (a very half-naked, still wet giant of a man—okay, focus) to sit on the toilet seat.

“Baby, it’s fine—” Ari began to say, but you interrupted him, “Honey, let me do this—why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” Ari let out a rare scoffed smile at ​​your dramatic flair before acknowledging you with his usual grunt. You returned his smile and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

Ari watched you as you ventured over to the bathroom counter to gather the first aid kit. You were already in your sleep clothes—simple camisole and shorts. Though he remained silent, you could feel his eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. You glanced up at the wide mirror and caught him in the act as his gaze lingered a bit too long on your ass. You stifled a small laugh, and his eyes met yours unashamedly.

You turned to walk back over to him, and his eyes never left yours as you took his palm gently between your hands. As you cleaned the small wound, you could feel his gaze burning on your skin. You took your time patching him up, and with the last bandage, you brought his burly hand to your lips, planting a meaningful kiss on his knuckles. Continuing to brush your lips against the back of his hand, you left more kisses until you reached the underside of his wrist.

Ari’s gaze darkened with every peck of affection you left on his clean skin. As you raised his hand to rest it on your cheek, Ari’s other arm wrapped around the low of your waist, pulling you in closer. Deciding you weren’t close enough, you straddled his towel-clad waist. Enjoying the intimacy, you both savored the simplicity of feeling safe in each other’s embrace. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you softly caressed his wet strands of hair away from his face. Tucking your face into the crevice of his neck, you closed your eyes and hummed contentedly, feeling his large hands rub up and down your back. You felt so small enveloped in his arms.

“Look at me, baby,” Ari whispered softly. He laid a calloused hand on your cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. His other arm remained wrapped around you to support you, and he said, “I know that we don’t talk about this often enough, but I want you to know that I would never hurt you. Ever.”

You gave Ari a confused look. “I know that, Ari. I trust you. I always feel safe with you.” His eyes were full of concern as you rushed to reassure him. Your own hand rested on his bearded cheek. “I know that what happened at the mill last year has lingered a bit.”

He turned his gaze downward until you cooed at him, making him look back at you. “Hey, I know you. I know that you were only doing what you thought was right. At that moment, it was about protecting Sammy. The guy was making threats against you both. It made sense that you went to defend yourself.”

Ari was quiet for a minute. You continued stroking his cheek to let him process. This was a vulnerable conversation for Ari that his usual grunts couldn’t explain.

He broke the silence by saying, “I lied to you.”

Your heart froze, and you felt even more confused. Your hand dropped back down to grip his bulky shoulder. “What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

Ari met your curious gaze with an ashamed look. “He wasn’t making threats against Sammy… he was saying things about you. Us. How a woman like you shouldn’t be with someone like me—‘damaged goods.’”

Lines formed between your eyebrows as you tried to register what Ari was saying. Leaning into your silence, he continued, “Then he started saying that he would be a better fit for you. He talked about all the ways he would treat you better, and then he shoved me and… I just lost it.” Ari’s mouth twisted grimly, and his eyes held a weighted look. “I just… didn’t want to lose you.”

Swallowing thickly, you reflected on that time in your relationship when you heard about Ari being involved in an accident at the mill. It wasn’t until you saw him that you realized there had been no accident, and that Ari had put his co-worker in the hospital. Of course, you worried about the implications of his actions and what it would mean for the two of you. At a certain point, you did question your safety with Ari.

But you remembered meeting him at the station when the police let him go due to it being self-defense (and many of Ari’s co-workers, including Sammy, vouching for the incident). He had the same look that he had now—fear.

In that moment, despite what he had done, you knew there was something so strong and willed behind his reaction. He was so protective and gentle with you, and you believed him. You believed that that was the man that you were falling in love with. You just never would have guessed it came from the fear of losing you.

Realizing you had been quiet for a while as you processed your feelings and what you wanted to say, Ari didn’t move from his position. He licked his lips nervously, waiting for your response.

Releasing a slow breath, you cupped Ari’s face in your hands and looked him in the eye. “You protect, Ari, that’s just what you do.”

Ari exhaled in relief and felt a dark weight lift off of his shoulders, his stomach no longer churning, while putting his forehead to your chest. He moved his arms under your butt and lifted you slightly to do this but you embraced him openly. You stroked his hair again as he started kissing your exposed skin above your breast until he was laying a series of soft kisses up your neck. You both knew what his kisses really meant: “I’m sorry, I love you.”

You hummed out a soft moan as his lips found that spot under your ear that felt extra sensitive to his touch. Turning his face to meet your cheek, he tilted his head slightly so that he could finally reach your mouth. You allowed Ari to control the pace of the kiss and moaned when you felt his tongue softly caress yours. 

The tension in the air quickly thickened into something more primal and electric from Ari’s confession. There was something about this huge, strong man protecting only you that made you feel so worshiped and desired. These feelings start to overcome you and you move to sit on top of Ari’s towel-covered erection only to grind yourself down on him. Ari groaned sensually into the kiss at the feeling of delicious pressure sitting on his hard cock. Your mouths continue languidly meeting each other when you let out a squeak from Ari suddenly gripping your thighs tightly to carry you back into the bedroom. 

You released a squeal as Ari threw you on top of the bed before dropping his towel on the floor. Breathing heavier, you backed up on the bed to get a better look at his glorious sculpted figure and Ari only smirked at your hooded eyes gazing all over his body. Standing at the edge of the bed, Ari decided that you were too far away and he gripped your ankle to roughly tug you back towards him. Letting out another brief squeal and giggle, you quickly sought into his rhythm as he kneeled onto the bed. 

His bulking mass overshadowed you as he leaned forward to place more deceivingly gentle kisses upon the exposed skin of your stomach where your tank top rode up. Your stomach fluttered as you could feel his kisses getting wetter, and were leading down towards your cotton-clad pussy. You whined in anticipation as Ari gently tugged off your shorts to reveal your soaking core. 

Ari let out a deep groan at the sight of your pussy weeping for his touch. Using his hands to spread your legs open to make space for his massive stature, you gasped for air even though he has barely touched you. You stroke the hands holding you down and beg, “Ari, please. Please do something.” 

At your begging, Ari released a louder groan this time. “God, baby. Look at you just creaming for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want me to take care of you, sweet girl?” 

He used his forearms to hold your already squirming legs down as he used his thumb to cut through a string of wet and reveal your thrumming pink clit. Not being able to resist his own yearning, he gave a firm lick up your cunt and released a deep groan at the first taste of you on his tongue. “Oh fuck, you taste so fucking sweet.” He groaned and went back into your cunt for more. 

You sobbed your pleasure at the feeling of his tongue caressing your wet folds, “Yes, please, Ari– please!” His tongue continued licking all over your pussy while he released his own small moans at the taste of you. He made sure to thrust his tongue into your soaked opening before licking his way back towards your now puffy clit. 

Your moans steadily increased in volume and small, short-bursts of whimpers fell out of your mouth as Ari devoured you. Feeling his lips suction at your clit, you mewl and feel his thick finger start to breach your entrance. Your head fell back on the bed, your mouth agape at the sheer pleasure you were receiving from your man. One hand tightly gripping the sheet next to you and the other wrapped in Ari’s hair as you kept him in place, your hips started to thrust back into his mouth and fingers. Not expecting for you to turn so wildly, Ari’s mouth left your clit unwillingly. Letting out a whine at the loss of warmth, you press down on the back of Ari’s head to get him back into position. 

But all of a sudden, you felt a sharp smack on your ass and you let out a yelp. Ari was still thrusting his finger, and inserting a second one, at a slower pace when he looked up at you. His lips and beard glistened with your wetness when he said darkly, “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. Do you understand me, baby?”

You could only respond with a soft whimper before letting out another cry as he slapped your ass again. “I said, do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Ari, I understand.” You responded with a glazed look in your eye at the combination of pain from his smacks and pleasure from his domineering words. 

“There’s my sweet girl, so good for me.” Ari said before he kissed his way back to your sopping cunt, his fingers thrusting faster now as his mouth created a suction on your clit again. Releasing out a louder cry at the transition, you could feel Ari’s fingers start to push deeper and curve inside of you to find your g-spot. You let out a sharp gasp once you felt him start to stroke that spongy spot over and over again while his tongue started to softly create a rhythmic pattern on your throbbing bud. 

The other thing about your relationship with Ari is that he was the most vocal when you were fucking. He always let you know how you felt around him and freely praised you as you gave each other the most visceral and intense experience. Anticipating more from him, your body rolled with his fingers to get him even deeper inside of you.

Only squeaking out sounds now, your high-pitched tones of pleasure were music to Ari’s ears. Your wet starting to squelch around his fingers and spurt out of you, Ari knew you were almost there. His fingers thrusted faster into you and curved in deeper with each thrust. He groaned, “Hmm, yeah baby? Is this the spot right here?”

You couldn’t conjure up a response as you were only experiencing the immense pleasure that he was giving to you and almost animalistic groans started leaving your throat. Ari looked up to see your head thrown back on the bed and your upper body contorting, your tanktop having ridden up and was now showing your beautiful perky, round breasts. Nipples peaked in heightened pleasure. Witnessing you like this was a privilege for Ari and he never thought you looked more beautiful than when you were writhing for him in the bedroom. 

A deep desire to witness more of you, Ari increased his efforts by pushing down on your tummy just above your mount. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Be a good girl for me, and let me have it. Let go for me.” He breathes against your slit while giving you one last intentional suck and rapid licking at your clit. 

Inhaling sharply, his words were your undoing as you felt that tight knot inside of you tear in ecstasy. Your head tossed back in euphoria as you cum hard, your pussy clenched around his fingers. Though, Ari didn’t stop thrusting his fingers deep inside of you. Whispering good girl and so sweet against your thrumming folds as he continued to coach you through your release. 

You let out a satiated whimper at experiencing your orgasm but Ari wasn’t stopping. If anything, his fingers curved into your g-spot faster and his tongue licked harder at your humming, swollen clit. You did thrash at the overstimulation. Your disobedience resulted in Ari slapping your ass once more. Even though it was served as a punishment, it seemed to only end up heightening your yearning for a second release. Noticing that your juices were spurting out excessively now, Ari kept slapping your ass as your pussy gripped tighter onto his large fingers. 

Letting out a myriad of whimpers and desperate moans, you sobbed out, “Ari please, please…I can’t do it, please!”

“Yes, you can baby, you can. Don’t you want to be good for me?”

You couldn’t answer him other than your random babblings– you couldn’t even think as you felt so consumed by the pleasure that he was giving you. You felt like you were being consumed by him and adored at the same time. 

A cry left your lips as he slapped your ass harder. “I asked you a question, are you my good girl?”

“Yes, yes, please, let me cum, please!” You sobbed out. 

Ari grunted deeply, “Your pussy is begging for it– you hear that?” He quieted only for the sounds of your own wetness slopping out of you to fill the space. “Mmm, see, I know you can do it, just one more, love.” Ari went back to suckling on your clit while he rubbed and grabbed at your now pink-colored flesh. 

Hearing him use this endearment again as his lips never left your body made your eyes roll up and you inadvertently held your breath as you let go for the second time. You register Ari’s moans and praise against your clit as you squirt your cum into his awaiting mouth. 

All you could let out were quiet mumbles of satisfaction as Ari’s fingers slowed. Your body was still jerking as it carried out aftershocks of your release, and you let out another sharp breath as Ari left one last kiss on your velvety folds. 

You were attempting to catch your breath as Ari kissed his way up your body, spending some time on your nipples by taking one in his mouth while his hand caressed your other breast. Ari brought up his fingers that were just inside of you to stroke your nipple and groaned as you glistened with your own cum. Leaning down, he took your nipple in his mouth again to suck it clean. You moaned softly and arched your back to give him more access as your hands stroked affectionately through his hair.  

Working his way back towards your bite-ridden lips, Ari slanted his wet mouth over yours as you taste yourself on his tongue. The both of you moaned as you continued making out leisurely. Ari pulled back to lick your lips sensually before dipping into your open mouth one more time for his tongue to meet yours in a passionate, sloppy dance.

Ari stroked your hair away from your face. “You ready for my cock, baby?” 

You whined and nodded as he leaned down to give you another wet kiss. You feel him reaching for his cock, hard and resting on your clit heavily. You mewled at him again as he slapped your clit with the wide mushroom head of his cock and he pushed in slowly. 

Groaning together at the feel of his thick cock bottoming in you, Ari lets out a strained moan. “Fuuuck baby, your pretty pussy is just sucking me in. Agh, so tight.” 

He withdrew until he was almost out of you before thrusting back into you deeply. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open as you could feel the veins on his girthy cock graze your inner walls. 

Ari leaned his head back in ecstasy at the feel of you clenching around him. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned out your name, “Yes, take it, baby. Take my fat cock.” 

You felt like you could barely breathe as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was sinking in so deep and you were gasping for air at all of the sensations your body was experiencing. Besides your mutual groans and moans, the sounds of your union could be heard as you only became wetter at the stimulation. 

“I’m so full, so full…so big, Ari.” You mumbled out, your eyes crossed in ecstasy. Ari let out a condescending laugh, “Aww, look at you. Can’t even speak, can you? Just continue taking my cock, honey, you’re so good at it.” 

Ari leaned up and thrust out of you, despite your desperate whining, only to turn you on your stomach. You feel him kneel outside of your thighs that were clenched together, and only had time to hold onto the pillow in front of you as he thrust back in. You gasped out a high pitched moan and small, repeated sounds of pleasure came out of your mouth as you felt his long shaft pit up against your g-spot with every thrust. 

“There she is, yesss. You’re so fucking tight when I take you like this, baby. Your pussy is gripping me like a vice, goddamn.” Ari groaned louder as your warmth enveloped him. Tension started brewing again deep inside your belly as he thrust faster into you. 

Leaning down, his chest was damp and his hair grazed your smooth skin as it met your back. He lifted you slightly to wrap his right hand around your neck and squeezed. He whispered harshly in your ear, “Don’t ever forget that you’re mine. This pussy is mine, your body. I’ll always protect you, you hear me, love?”

Gripping onto the pillow in front of you fiercely, you couldn’t contain your moans that were now resonating in the room. His possessiveness, his fingers gripping your throat so protectively, and the passion in his words made you feel so hot, you felt that coil in your belly about to snap. The sensation pulling at that area inside of you that felt so full and relieving when released. “Ari, yes, I’m yours! You’re gonna make me cum again!” 

“Yeah, I am, love. Soak my cock, make a mess with my pussy.” He released the grip on your throat to lean back up and take your hips in his hands for full control. His thrusts were consistently hard and deep. It twisted that coil inside of you so delightfully that you finally snapped and cried out your orgasm. 

Ari’s thrusts became sloppier as your juices squirted around his cock. He bellowed out a deep and low groan from his strained throat and followed you as you rode out your orgasm against him. You moan at the feeling of his dick throbbing inside of you and feeling him cum so deep in your pussy made you feel like you were being claimed. His dick was still buried deep inside as you gyrated against him. At the overstimulation, Ari thrust out of you with a sharp hiss and a mixture of your cum with his started to spurt out of you. 

“Fuck, so pretty, baby. Here, let me help you.” He breathed out heavily while his hand left your hip to use his finger to push your combined cum back into your quivering pussy. You moaned out at the sensation of his thick finger thrusting his warm spend further into you and mewled in content. 

Ari kneaded and squeezed your ass one last time before attempting to get off the bed to get a towel to clean you up but you clutched his hand before he could fully leave and pleaded, “Wait baby, stay. Can you just…hold me, please?”

He picked up the hand that you were holding to kiss the back of yours softly and collapsed on the bed next to you as you leaned into his outstretched arms. Cuddling him as your head rested over his chest, you felt him graze his fingers soothingly on your arm. You both were satiated in your passionate release, and after the day that you had, you both were starting to feel the effects of it. 

Embracing you in his arms, the warmth of your body and the softness of your skin felt like heaven against him. Before his sleepy eyes shut completely, you gave him a gentle tap above his heart to get his attention one last time. He peered down at you and gave you a relaxed grin. With his familiar grunt, his eyes questioned your touch. 

You gazed into his blue eyes that were filled with such affection, the same glint that you saw earlier at the bar. A familiar burning in your eyes started to come on at his stare, but you blinked them away to smile back fondly at him. 

“I love you too, Ari.” 

A/N: Welp! We made it -- I'm hoping ya'll enjoyed Ari and reader on this one. Something about Lumberjack!Ari being protective and only having eyes for you makes me feral and that can be the only explanation as to why this is so long lol. I would love to know what ya'll thought! Speak soon, lads~

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[b00kdiary]

New Azriel x OC fanfic idea

… hear me out.

Chapter one here

Her and Bryce go through the gate and fall into Prythian together, and the first person they see is Azriel…

Azriel who’s first instinct is to kill them, is to eliminate the threat- yet something sparks so brightly in his chest the moment he sees her that he just can’t!

Think Hofas but Azriel’s love story- OC who will do anything to protect Bryce, anything to get the answers they need but this beautiful male makes it so hard.

An OC who has a far bigger role and connection to Prythian and the war to come than anyone knows.

And think Azriel and OC kicking major ass in Prythian AND in Midgard all the while trying to figure out what the fuck is happening between them.

It will be the true CC X ACOTAR cross over my mind has been dreaming of.

Not sure if I will write this😭 but I haven’t stopped thinking about it as a “scenario to dream about at night” for literal months now.

Like my heart dreams of fleshing this out and making it into a proper fanfiction to post on wattpad/ao3…

So… idk >3

[makeyoumine69]

Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ���What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere. 

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day 10: Toys

Bryce Quinlan x Reader || WC: 859

Your fingers dig into the soft tan skin of Bryce’s plush thigh, hers do the same to yours. Both of you lie on your sides as you straddle one of her legs, rubbing your clits together. Grinding, desperate to lose yourselves in orgasmic bliss. Again.

Both of you have already cum twice. Once, after you found her playing with herself and stripped to play with yourself too. The second was when you fingered yourselves together. 

Bryce pants, her tits jerking with the movement of her chest rising and caving. “You look so fucking hot right now,” she says between panting breaths. 

“You’re fucking soaked,” you groan, grinding harder into her. Your slick covered cunts rubbing against each other fill her bedroom with wet lewd noises. 

She laughs breathily, blushing. “Y-you make m-me so wet-t.” She stutters out. Her brows pinching together as her nails dig into your thigh.

“Likewise, baby.” 

Tilting your hips, changing the angle so you can get as close as possible to her, your clits drag against each other’s. Your movements are frenzied and frantic as your free hand fists her bedsheets beneath you. Wanting to fall over the edge with her. 

The muscles in your tummy tightening as you near the finish line. Bryce’s legs shake, her heavy tits jutting out as her back bows, screaming your name as she cums. Her nails claw into your skin as she writhes. 

It’s the final push you need to topple over with her, hips still rolling into hers even as they start to buck, as waves of ecstasy take over your body. Seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut so tight like the grip you have on her thigh and bedsheets. 

Both of you fall back into the bed, eyes closed and chests heaving as you come down from your orgasms. Your panting breaths and heartbeats fill her room. Bryce lifts her head, looking at you, “I ordered us something,” she mumbles. 

You prop yourself up limply, “what?”

She smiles and languidly leans over to her nightstand and you hear her pull something out before you can see it. Your brows pinch as you let out a sharp breath. “That looks big.”

Bryce giggles, running the bright neon pink double ended dildo through your wet folds. “We’ve had bigger,” she smirks. Your hips jerk when it presses against your sensitive clit. 

She covers it in your slick, in your release, and brings it up to her mouth. Tasting you. She lets out a groan, her eyes fluttering closed, you feel your start to race again. 

Her cheeks hollow out as she sucks it and then slides it back out. “You’re so sweet,” she smiles. Then with the end that’s facing her she runs it through her pussy lips, covering it in her arousal and then offers it to you. 

Wordlessly, eyes boring into hers, you part your lips around it. Cleaning it off as she works it into your mouth. You pull off with a soft pop, wrapping your hands around it, pulling it out of her grasp. “Get on all fours,” you instruct.

Bryce grins, scrambling to get on all fours. She wiggles her ass at you and you smack it, earning a giggle from her. But it turns into a sigh when you push the bright pink dildo into her. She pushes her hips back, taking more of it into her. 

She looks over her shoulder at you, already blissed out, “your turn.” 

You slap her ass again and get on all fours too. Sliding your legs in between hers and reaching underneath you, pressing the head of the dildo to your entrance. Your hand falls as you shudder, it’s so thick. 

Bryce’s hand replaces yours and something clicks lightly, then the dildo starts to vibrate making you both whine and whimper. She pushes it the rest of the way into you and your back arches even more. You’re not gonna last long. 

You both unconsciously push back, your asses pressing against each other as your cunts swallow the bright neon pink double ended dildo. 

“Gods!” you cry out as it hits your g-spot, vibrating. 

“Oh-h fuck!” Bryce screams. You feel her body start to shake. “Y/n!” She’s gonna cum soon.

“I-I know, baby.” You moan. “Me t-too.” Both of you continue to push back on the dildo, on each other. Your asses slamming into each other. Heats floods your body as Bryce and you fuck yourselves, your pussy contracting around the thickness of it. 

“Fuck!” You scream, gripping fistfuls of the bedsheets. Your entire body buzzing as your hips start to stutter, Bryce’s too. 

You slam into each other one more time, reaching back to hold each other’s hips in place. Fingers digging into the soft flesh as you both shatter around the dildo. Each other’s names ripping free from your throats in hoarse cries. 

Both of you shake as your orgasms barrel through you. Bryce collapses onto the bed first, making the dildo fall out of you. You’re still trembling as you pull it out of her and lay next to her, and she drags herself on top of you, cuddling you. 

****

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[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you are a shy, introverted person who wants to break out of your shell and experience fun at least once in your life. During a mutual friend's group trip, you meet Terry and have the best sex with him. Once the fun is over, will you and Terry stay in touch?

warnings: explicit smut (18+), light use of daddy, foul language, dirty talking, dom/sub, oral (f), pussy slaps, fingering, unprotected sex, nicknames (beautiful, baby, baby girl), words: (3k)

note: hey, I'm working on another mini-series, but this one is sweet, wholesome, and freaky! let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts. please enjoy!

-

You’ve been shy and introverted your entire life, often feeling tired of this loneliness. Your daily routine typically consists of working, exercising, and returning home, which leaves little opportunity for social interaction or adventure.

While you go out when you want to, most of your time is spent at home with your loving dog. Despite that, you know something is missing—particularly, a boyfriend and a more vibrant social life.

The anxiety stemming from your shyness made it difficult for you to step outside your comfort zone. You want to seek more experiences beyond the walls of your home and be more outgoing.

When your friends Sasha and Maya invited you on a group trip, you accepted. They were surprised but happy and reassured you that you wouldn’t feel left out or awkward during the trip.

Sasha, in particular, couldn’t contain her excitement, as explained by her boyfriend, Bryce. He was bringing his old marine friend, Terry Richmond.

You met the girls at the airport and greeted them with hugs. Sasha explained that Bryce and Cameron needed to find Terry, which made you feel nervous. She told you a little about him, but ultimately, you would have to form your own opinion about him.

"Oh, here they come! Finally,” Sasha replied, gesturing towards three tall, fit men in the distance.

Bryce was a tall, dark-skinned man, while Cam was kind of brown-skinned since he was lighter than Bryce. Then your eyes led to him. Who must be Terry?

At that moment, you felt an undeniable spark of love at first sight. Terry was slightly taller than Bryce and Cam and had a lighter skin tone.

He was so handsome, with good hands, good lips, and, good god, a nice body!!! He was fine, and you wanna intertwine him.

"Good, made it back on time and found big dawg," Bryce nudged Terry on the arm, laughed, and then moved over to Sasha.

"Yeah, bro was at the wrong damn gate/terminal," Cam said, walking over to Maya and greeted her with a kiss on the forehead.

"My fault; it's been a minute since I've been at the damn airport; y'all know I don't travel a lot," Terry chuckled lightly as he caught you staring, prompting you to look away.

"Well, we're glad you found him. Now...um, Terry, I want you to meet someone," Maya said with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows curiously and she motioned towards you and introduced you to Terry by using your name.

“Hey, there!” He said, giving a polite wave, and you just stared at him. Everyone looked at you, awaiting your response, but nothing came out until Sasha nudged you.

“Hi,” you said, waving back with a small mile. You held his gaze for a moment, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach, before shyly turning your eyes away.

The flight to Cancun, Mexico, is currently boarding for its scheduled departure at 1 PM. Passengers are advised to have their boarding passes and identification ready and to proceed to the gate promptly.

"Okay, that's us. Who's ready to get Lit?" Maya clapped her hands, easing the awkwardness and creating a more hype vibe.

Sasha wrapped her arm around your shoulders playfully, giving you a knowing look through her sunglasses.

"Look at you, drooling all over Terry already; I told you he would be your type," She teased, and you playfully hit her arm.

Soon enough, you were all on the plane, and of course, you were sitting next to Terry. He was talking to you, but you felt so nervous that your responses were short.

You both had a lot in common: you were single, didn’t get out much, and were on this trip to have fun. You couldn’t believe that a handsome man like Terry wanted to talk to you despite your shyness.

Terry was eager to talk to you from the moment he first saw you. He felt a strong connection and wanted to get to know you better. He was really glad he decided to go on this trip because your sweet and shy nature made him want to break you out of your shell.

“You're kind of the shy and quiet type, huh?! I like that; some people say I'm reserved, so I guess I can relate,"

"You don't seem like it; you seem like an outgoing person." You look at him for a second. His captivating hazel-green eyes burn into yours, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Well, I sometimes can be both; I'm a little reserved when I don't know the person, but if I know you, I'm more open, I guess," Terry explained, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"What makes me so different?" You asked in a playful tone, building some confidence.

Terry laughs and smirks, "I guess you're that special!"

You felt like your heart exploded the way he looked at you, obviously attracted to you. You just nodded, looking away, trying to hide your smile.

“Hey....come on, I was just getting used to hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Terry said, leaning in, and your breath hitched.

You and Terry chatted throughout the entire plane ride. Although you were still a bit shy, you found yourself being more talkative than before, which felt positive.

Perhaps Terry was just what you needed for this trip. Once your group arrived at the stunning villa, you marveled at its beautiful interior.

“Alright,” Maya announced, her enthusiasm infectious as she gathered everyone to discuss the week's activities. She carefully ensured everyone felt included and excited about them.

Maya suggested you all chill and settle into our bedrooms for the afternoon. You began rolling your heavy suitcase down the hall, its wheels clicking softly against the floor.

“Do you need a hand?” Terry asked, approaching with a friendly smile and ready to help you with your suitcase.

"Yeah, thanks." You said with a small smile, walking to your bedroom door and walking in.

"You can put it right there, " You said, pointing at the chair before you and indicating that he should place it there. Terry glanced at you curiously as if he were too nervous to ask a question.

A moment of silent communication passes between you. Terry stepped forward, closing the distance, and you felt your heart race.

You instinctively wanted to shy away, but you fought against the urge, reminding yourself to be brave.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I would love to take you on a date tonight. I am drawn to you and want to crack your shy shell and see what’s inside. Of course, only if you want me to," He expressed with a hopeful smile.

“I would love that, Terry,” You said with a smile. Terry smiled back, gave you his number, and set the date plans.

He walked out, winking at you as he left the bedroom. You bit your lip and excitedly squealed, jumping dramatically onto the comfortable bed.

-

You told the girls about the date, and they were so excited that they went upstairs to your bedroom to help you out.

“I don’t think I can do this; it's been so long since i've been on a date, and all together, I'm shy as fuck” You said, getting your nerves up.

“Babe, it’s fine. You need this, and Terry is an amazing guy. We wouldn't have brought him on this trip if we didn't know he would be perfect for you.” Sasha says, ease your anxiety a lot more.

“Sasha is right; just have fun and let go, but not too much; you might get dicknotized,” Maya smiles playfully as she hands you a sexy yellow dress that catches the light beautifully.

"This will look amazing on you," She added, her eyes sparkling excitedly. As you slipped into the dress, your nerves faded, replaced by a sense of pride.

Maya's perfume filled the room as she sprayed on you; it had a familiar and comforting aroma.

Sasha, the fashionista, was styling your box braids and applying your makeup while you looked in the mirror.

"Remember," She said, glancing over her shoulder, "confidence is key. Just be yourself."

After saying bye to Sasha and Maya, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath. You were walking downstairs and Terry stood there at the bottom, clearly waiting for you.

His eyes widened, taking in every detail. You couldn't help but giggle at his look of awe. He seemed captivated by your radiant beauty, his gaze lingering on your elegant curves.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” Terry said. You smiled and looked him over, noticing he was wearing a black button-up shirt and shorts.

"Thank you. Um..you look beautif-I mean handsome!" You cursed at yourself in your mind, feeling totally embarrassed, and Terry found it cute.

"Thanks! Are you ready?" Terry asked, holding his arm out with a smile and you happily accepted.

Both of you walk leisurely down the path, arm in arm while listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore accompanies you as you make your way to the charming ocean-view restaurant that overlooks the sparkling waters.

You and Terry walk inside, and the warm glow of the intimate setting welcomes you. You find a cozy table for two awaiting your arrival. Moments later, a friendly waiter approaches, ready to take your drink orders.

While waiting, Terry struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly. His warm smile and engaging demeanor made it easy to share about yourself. With every exchanged joke and smile, you found yourself becoming more comfortable, as if he had a talent for bringing out the best in people.

His smooth charm was evident; he made you feel special and understood, gently encouraging you to step out of your shy little shell and embrace the moment because the air between you crackled with sexual tension, growing palpable by the minute.

The waiter approached your table, balancing a tray of drinks that shimmered in the dim light. He set them down before you with a polite smile. After taking your food orders, he left you both.

Terry, his eyes sparkling, leaned in closer, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“While we wait, how about we play a game of ‘Would you rather?’” Terry proposed, the excitement in his voice making the suggestion feel inviting.

"Okay," You replied, intrigued and ready to dive into the game.

“Okay, would you rather…” Terry started, propping his chin on his hand as he contemplated the question.

“Would you rather live deep in the ocean or explore the vastness of space?”

You paused for a moment, considering the options carefully. “Hmm, that’s a tough choice. But I think I would choose space,” You finally replied.

“Mmm, interesting! What makes you lean toward space?” Terry inquired, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I have always been interested in space and astronomy. If I could, I would be an astronaut, and the experience would be exciting,” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

"Wow, I would love to learn more about that, but it's your turn," Terry said, his eyes lighting up with curiosity and a warm smile spreading across his face. The "Would You Rather" game had been going for a while and had taken a slightly naughty turn.

Before long, the waiter arrives with both of your meals, setting them down on the table with a flourish. As the delightful aromas fill the air, you take a moment to appreciate the dishes before returning to Terry.

Intrigued by the connection you two are building, you changed the subject wanting to know about Terry's interests and experiences, eager to learn more about his passions.

Terry paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on your necklace, which had come unhooked. With a gentle smile, he leaned in close and secured the clasp.

You found yourself momentarily lost in the warmth of his touch, savoring the soft caress against your dark brown skin, a delightful contrast that sent a shiver of warmth through you.

Terry pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips, and effortlessly transitioned back into talking as if nothing had happened. You couldn't help but notice his subtle game; it was working on you like a charm.

Your desire was intense, and your craving seemed to deepen with every word he spoke. You were utterly captivated, wanting him more than ever before.

After dinner, you both walk silently side by side on the beach. Your hands nearly touch until Terry grabs yours and holds it, making you smile.

You slowly look up at him, and you find that his eyes are already fixed on you.

"What?" You asked.

"Just admiring how gorgeous you are," Terry stopped you from walking by wrapping his arms around your plump waist.

You touched his chest, thinking you both would finally kiss. But Terry was teasing you again. He lifted you slightly, catching you off guard and causing you to drop your purse and heels.

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing, Terry?” You gasped, struggling to escape his firm hold on you.

“Let’s get in the water; I bet it’s cold,” He said, trying to pull you closer.

“No, Terry!” You squealed, quickly breaking free from his grasp and running away from him with your tongue sticking out.

“Hey!” he yelled, chasing after you. When he finally caught you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and started tickling you.

You bounced up and down with laughter, trying to escape his grip. Just as Terry was about to say something, he accidentally tripped over something in the sand. Both of you fell together. You looked at him, and he looked at you.

You both laughed as Terry rolled off of you, pulling you onto his chest and kissing the top of your head, making your heart flutter. He eventually helped you out of the sand and retrieved your purse and heels.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, surprising him with the suddenness of your action. As you pulled back, a shy smile crept onto your face, and you turned your gaze to the side, feeling excitement and nervousness.

In an instant, Terry reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes searched yours, a blend of sweetness and warmth reflected in them.

Then, without breaking his gaze, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against yours as he kissed you, igniting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You let out a muffled moan, feeling his hands gliding over your ass with a gentle yet teasing touch. Your breath caught in your throat, pulling away while feeling him firmly grasping it.

"Do you wanna continue this back at the villa?" Terry asked, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you.

"Yes," you said, nodding firmly as you still held the gaze. Your voice remained steady, even as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you—excitement, desire, and a hint of nervousness mingled together.

-

Once stepped into the bedroom, Terry pressed you against the solid door. His lips met yours in a passionate, rough kiss, feeling an electric spark hit and made your heart race.

"I've been waiting to take this dress off you since I saw you in it," He murmured in your ear, running his hands down the bodice of your yellow dress.

"And it's just driving me wild," He whispered, which made you shiver.

"Well, take it off if you're brave enough," You spoke boldly, which made him smirk.

You gasped as he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed. You still couldn't get over the fact that he was so strong to pick you up, which was a turn-on for you.

He picked you down as both of you stood at the edge of the bed; he was kissing your neck, and his lips peppered on your dark-brown skin, pausing here and there to suck on the sensitive flesh.

His hand reached behind your back to find the zipper of your dress, pushing it down to your feet. You step out of it, and his hands touch your exposed breasts.

As you stood there, a wave of insecurity washed over you, causing you to shy away slightly. Just when you thought about retreating and hiding yourself, Terry stopped you. His gaze was steady and inviting, searching your eyes.

"You're beautiful, baby. Don't hide from me!" He whispers genuinely, making you feel warm inside. You kiss him as his hands grip your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, pulling away and popping his black button-up shirt open. You admired his abs and slid your fingers down his chest.

Terry shivered slightly at your touch; you had the same effect on him as he had on you. Both of you practically ripped each other's clothes. You gently laid yourself down as Terry hovered above you.

You pulled him down for another kiss as he cupped your right breast in his hand while his lips moved away from yours. His tongue dragged across the dark area of your areola.

"Such nice big tits, so good to suck," Terry growls and grabs both of your breasts with his hand, squeezing and sucking them, causing you to whimper.

"How does that feel, baby?" He asked, pulling away from sucking your nipples as his right hand traveled down to your wet folds, and circled them.

A loud moan escaped your lips, felt him push two fingers inside of you, prompting you to cover your mouth to avoid being heard by the others.

"Nah, baby girl, none of that. You have no idea how desperate I want to hear you moan for me. If you don’t let yourself make any sounds, I’ll have to find a way to draw them out."

"Yes-yes....ohhhh....It-it feels good....ahh......so good," You moaned, feeling him moved below and rested between your plump legs, glancing up at you. He spread them wide, getting a good look at your pussy.

"Mmmm, a pretty girl with a pretty pussy" He said before placing his hands on your legs and dragging his tongue between your wet folds.

"Yes....fuck....ahh fuck" You moaned, arching your back and grabbing your breasts as he repeated the action with more pressure, his tongue sliding against your bundle of nerves.

"Mmm, tastes so damn good, girl" His hands were holding your wide hips as he continued to suck and lick you dry, drawing desperate soft moans from your mouth. 

Terry buried deeper between your plump legs, which was driving you crazy. The pleasure you were feeling going through your body was so overwhelming.

"Ahh fuck, Terry fucking eat this pussy, mutherfucka" You moaned, and your fingers gently caressed his head, relishing the closeness of him.

Terry chuckles. "Mmm, there you go, keep talking nasty to me, baby. I see I'm bringing the best out of you, the freak in you," He said before resuming devouring your pussy.

Another loud moan escaped your lips as the pleasure built within you, clenching around his fingers while you felt yourself getting close.

"Are you gonna cum, beautiful?" He asked, moving up to look into your eyes and began to finger fuck you fast.

"Yes, Terry, oh shit.....fuck-fuck don't stop fuck." You cried, suddenly cumming hard, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Yeah, that's it, baby girl. Fucking cum for Daddy," Terry said, still fingering you and then smacking your pussy as wet gushing came out of you, causing you to cry.

"Shit, look at that, baby. And I did all that with my tongue and fingers; I can't wait to see how your pussy takes my dick" He said with a chuckle, licking his fingers, and you watched him coming down from your intense high.

You kissed him, slightly tasting yourself as he cupped your breast in his hand while your hand slid down his chest to his throbbing dick; you got a good look at it and gasped at it.

"Like what you see?" Terry whispered in your ear.

"Yes, it's so big," You moaned, moving your hand up and down his length as you kissed him again but deeply. A very deep moan came from his mouth when you got a little faster.

"Fuck, girl, I need you…" Terry said with a slight moan, which made you smile. He moved on top of you and slowly entered your folds, causing you to go bananas.

You were loving the fullness of his thickness inside of you as he began thrusting, drawing soft moans from you. Terry asked, looking down at you to see if it was good, but you nodded.

"Come on, baby. Don't get shy on me again; tell me how it feels?" He asked, his hands on your waist sliding down to grasp your wide hips, pulling you closer so he could bury himself deeper.

"Yes, Terry fuck me, fuck it feels good!" You moaned, wrapping your plump legs around his waist tighter, allowing a new, delicious angle that you both liked.

Your moans became louder and more frequent as his thrusts came faster but still as gently and passionately as ever.

"That's it, girl....let everyone know i'm fucking this pussy good, You like it, you like how I am fucking you" Terry moaned while his rhythm never stopped looking down at you with so much desire and lust;

"Oh yes, Daddy fuck me, it feels so good," You cried, looking up at him as he lifted your legs to his shoulders and pounding into you faster and harder but much more profound.

"Take that fucking dick like a good girl;" Terry growled, tightening his grip on your legs.

"....fuck are you about to cum, baby?" Terry moaned, feeling the warmth of your walls, clenched around him.

"Oh....yes, fuckfuckfuck..I'm-I'm cumming-" You moaned, digging your nails deep into his arms and scratching down.

"Fucking let it go, baby."

"AHHH!!" You screamed, coming hard again and Terry wasn't too far behind, cursing, pulling out; your legs immediately fell to his waist as his hot cum spurted all over your belly, making you slightly giggle.

"Shit," Terry cursed, lowered himself, and propped up on his left arm as his head buried in your neck.

He entirely collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. You slid your hand up and down his sweaty back while he gave you small, lazy kisses on your face and neck.

Terry rolls off you, and both of you calm down from your high. You bite your lip and turn to prop yourself up to look at him.

"That was—" You couldn't decide what word to use. It was beyond amazing, it was...

"Mind-blowing, yeah," He agreed, looking at you and lifting himself up to kiss you.

"Up for another round in the shower?"He asked, pulling away and caressing your hip.

"Yes!" Both of you smirked at each other and got out of bed to walk to the bathroom; Terry made you cum two more times that night.