#but her story was too tempting tonight

[planetaryupscaled]

The Bed We Made

Male Reader x Teyeon x Winter

Tags: 18k, smut, creampie, dubcon, incest, oral, tw

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

It’s not often you meet a mother who is as good-looking as her daughter or the rest of the family for that matter.

-

Groaning and moaning is all i heard as I passed the guest bedroom where my cousin Chaewon had been. ‘It’s nice to see someone is having fun’ I said to myself as I walked down the hall past my sister's bedroom. Now I close my ear. Shit, I don't want to hear what happens inside there.

I didn't like Minjeong boyfriend, that's no secret. But I’d learned a long time ago to stay out of her love life. That guy was an asshole. I couldn’t hide my feeling on him, not from her, but I remained silent on the subject. I was sure Minjeong would figure it out eventually and for the time being, at least he was a good-looking asshole that seemed to make her happy.

I moved on once again toward my own room. Chaewon’s brother Sojun was there with his new girlfriend Juhyeon. He was using my room because the only other bedroom available was my mom’s and neither Minjeong nor I thought it right that he and his girlfriend sleep there. I got mom’s bed since I was the one who stupidly broke up with his girlfriend the week before.

“I really could have timed it better,” I mumbled to myself.

Minjeong and I had started planning this night from the moment mom told us that she was going out of town on business. I was twenty and going to college. Minjeong was twenty-three and already working. She still lived home while she saved up for a place.

Mom was pretty old fashioned and didn’t let the people we were dating sleep over. She was a typical mother. She liked to think of us still as kids. It would have been cute if it weren’t so annoying.

I stopped in front of my bedroom door and listened. I forgot to get a pair of sweats to sleep in out of my closet before Sojun and Juhyeon disappeared into my room. I didn’t hear anything, so I opened the door gently. I glanced at my bed and saw that they were asleep.

They were naked. My eyebrows rose in appreciation when I saw Juhyeon. I had to give him credit. I’d thought she was cute when I met her earlier, but now I realized that Juhyeon was a lot more than that. She was hot, and had a very nice body. I shook my head and looked away.

The sweat pants were easily reachable and I got them as quietly as I could. I was making my escape when I stubbed my toe. I cursed as quietly as I could.

“Are you okay?” I heard Juhyeon ask. I looked back toward the bed. She had pulled the covers up, but I could still see her curves through the sheets. She saw me looking and smiled.

“Fine,” I replied a little too quickly. “Sorry. I just needed to get something to sleep in.”

“No problem,” she said kindly. “I shouldn’t have a problem going back to sleep. I’m still pretty drunk.”

“Aren’t we all?” I grinned. “We finished almost all the alcohol we bought, and that’s saying something.”

“It was a fun night,” she smiled in return. It was sexy as hell. I looked at her and shook my head as I fought to hide my sudden and intense attraction to her.

“You know, if you do have a problem going back to sleep...” I began, and paused when I realized what I was about to say. What’s wrong with me?

“Yes?” Juhyeon asked with a raised eyebrow. I was tempted, but it wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t the type to try and steal someone’s girl. “You could wake him up. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“You think?” she smiled.

“I know,” I laughed, then glanced at my cousin who seemed almost comatose and added, “Although he seemed wiped out.”

“He is,” she replied, slowly looking at me oddly. “Do you want to fill in for him?” I was stunned. Tonight was the first time I met Juhyeon. She was pretty quiet earlier. I would never have guessed she was like this.

“No,” I replied with some difficulty. “Not that I’m not tempted, you are hot as hell,” I laugh.

“How sweet,” she teased. “Oh, thanks for the complement.”

“You deserve it,” I said, shaking my head.

“If you keep talking like that,” she smiled sexily. “I might not give you the choice.”

“I’d better be going then,” I laughed, but it was very difficult to move.

“Now look what you’ve done?” she asked. “I’m horny again. I guess I’ll have to wake him up.”

“Think you can?” I joked. “He looks passed out.”

“Watch me,” she replied confidently. Juhyeon shocked me again by reaching out and beginning to rub my cousin’s cock through the sheet. She was watching me, obviously enjoy my reaction.

‘Wow!’ I thought. ‘Drunk or not, this girl was definitely something else.

Juhyeon continued to look at me as she worked her mouth. I stood there mesmerized. She had one of the sexiest smiles I’d ever seen. She let the sheet drop slightly and exposed her breasts. I shook my head.

“I don’t suppose you have a sister?” I asked.

“Two,” she grinned. “But the younger one is only eighteen and pretty innocent.”

“And the older one?” I asked.

“You couldn’t handle her,” Juhyeon laughed.

“Maybe not,” I smiled. “But after watching this, I’d sure like to try.”

“Watching what?” she asked huskily, no longer laughing. “You mean this?” And with that Juhyeon pulled the cock from under the sheet and took it into her mouth while her eyes never left mine. I swallowed hard.

“Does he know just how much of a slut you are?” I groaned. My eyes were locked with hers.

“Not yet,” she smiled sexily, “But he’s learning.”

“Are you sure you aren’t willing to introduce me to your sister?” I joke.

“Maybe one day,” she smiled. “Or maybe I’ll let Sojun play with my sister and keep you to myself.”

“Okay,” I laugh. “Are you always like this?”

“Not usually,” she admitted. “But like I said earlier, I’m pretty drunk.”

“So, if you were sober you wouldn’t want to do what you just suggested?”

“Oh, I would want to do it,” she replied. “I just wouldn’t have suggested it, at least not so soon after starting to date Sojun and meeting you.”

“Hah you are something else.” I said, shaking my head.

“Yes, she is,” my cousin said, finally awake.

“Hey lover,” Juhyeon said, smiling at him.

“You two have fun,” I said, shaking my head again and leaving my room.

I went into the bathroom and changed into my sweats. I had to wrestle my cock inside. Juhyeon really got to me. I forced Tried to force myself not to think about it or I’d never get to sleep.

Mom’s room was the biggest and she had a king-sized bed. I shook my head sadly as I looked at it. It was too bad she never shared it with anyone. My father had disappeared right after I was born. I didn’t know him and at this point I never wanted to.

I climbed into bed and closed my eyes. I was tired, but had a hard time going to sleep. I knew what was going on in all of the other bedrooms and I had to admit that I was jealous, and horny as hell. I thought about taking care of myself, but I was in mom’s bed and I just couldn’t do it.

It took me some time to finally relax. That’s when lying in mom’s bed helped. It smelled of her and reminded me of how she used to help me calm down and fall asleep when I was a kid. In fact, mom’s bed was where Minjeong and I used to climb in when we had nightmares. Mom would play with our hair until we fell asleep.

I’m not sure how long I slept before I heard someone enter the room. It was pitch dark and whoever it was didn’t seem to be interested in putting on the light despite stumbling. I couldn’t quite remember what I was dreaming about, but I knew it was sexual. I was disappointed that my sleep was interrupted.

I opened my mouth and almost started to ask what was going on, but I stopped myself when I realized that there was no reason for someone to come in here in the middle of the night. It had to be one of the people sleeping over.

I reviewed who was in the house and a thought came to me. I felt myself stiffen instantly. Could it be? Would she do this?

I thought the answer to both questions obvious. I remembered the way Juhyeon looked at me and what she said. It had to be her. The question was, what should I do about it? She was sneaking into the room I was sleeping in, her intent obvious, but she was my cousin’s girlfriend.

‘Maybe Sojun knows. Maybe they decided to do what she said. Maybe my cousin is going to get Juhyeon’s sister while I get Juhyeon,’ I thought suddenly, but then frowned and added, ‘That’s a hell of a lot of maybes.’

I was still wrestling with myself on what to do when she climbed into bed next to me. All the sexual tension from before returned in full and I reached for her. Juhyeon we were in my mother’s bed, but I was too worked up to think or worry about it anymore. I aggressively pulled her into a kiss before she could say anything. She was naked and tasted strongly of alcohol.

Juhyeon stiffened at first when I kissed her. I guess she was surprised I was awake. She relaxed quickly enough though and ended up being a good kisser despite being drunk. She moaned softly into my mouth as I started rubbing her breasts. She took my cock in her hand and start stroking it like she did with my cousin earlier. It was my turn to moan.

I pulled off my shirt and sweats and dropped them on the floor. We were both obviously beyond the need of foreplay. I rolled on top of her and Juhyeon spread her legs wide. The scent of her excitement spread and despite being ready, I couldn’t stop myself from taking a moment to taste her. My tongue dipped deep into her pussy and she cried out. Juhyeon’s pussy was surprisingly hairy. I liked it.

“Yes! It’s been so long!”

I froze at the words. The voice wasn’t Juhyeon’s! My mind took seconds to function before it could wrap around the truth. I was lying here with my head between my mother’s legs, What the… she was supposed to be out of town!

“Don’t stop!” she cried, using both hands to pull my face against her. I didn’t know what to do. This was wrong, so very wrong!

‘Or is it?’ I suddenly asked myself. I mean, I knew it was wrong, but obviously she liked what I was doing. I loved her and if it brought her pleasure, maybe right and wrong didn’t come into it. Besides, she tasted amazing!

“Please!” she cried. “I’m close!” I tentatively started licking again almost without realizing it. She groaned and pulled my mouth against her even harder. “Whoever you are, you have the nicest tongue!”

‘She must be very drunk,’ I thought. Mom wasn’t the type to drink or sleep around. I knew that. In fact, she’d only moments ago said that it had been a long time. She obviously wasn’t thinking straight right now, but she would in time.

“Oh!” she gasped. “I’m going to cum…” Her pussy became even wetter and the taste overwhelmed me.

I refocused my attention on what I was doing and was quickly rewarded with her cum. She cried out as her orgasm took her. The sound made me smile, almost proudly. No matter what else, I’d given her a moment of ecstasy.

“That was amazing,” she said afterward. I could hear the contentment in her voice, but I also realized that she wanted more. So did I.

‘I can’t feel this way about her, It’s so wrong!’ I thought. Yet, I felt what I felt. ‘No!’

I knew it was time to leave despite my own excitement. The only problem was that she wrapped her hand around my cock and she started stroking it again before I could figure out how to make my escape. A few moments later she kissed me and all thoughts of leaving disappeared.

I was amazed at how excited kissing she made me feel. It didn’t make sense! She was my mother and you didn’t do this with your mother, only I was and it felt incredible. Her tongue danced in my mouth and I moaned. I was lying on my back now and after a few minutes I felt she start to shift on top of me. I knew what she wanted, but I wasn’t ready for that. Not with her!

I pushed her off.

“Men,” she laughed. “You’re all the same. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed.” I didn’t know what she was talking about until she took my cock into her mouth.

‘Holy shit!’ I cried silently. ‘she is giving me a blowjob’ The fact that she was very good at it only made it worse.

I moaned and rested one hand on her head. She didn’t need any direction, but it felt good to have my fingers intertwined with her hair. She wasn’t a full-figured woman, but neither was she skinny in any sense. She went to the gym every night and stayed trim. She said it was because of her job, but I knew that she was proud of her figure.

My orgasm grew close very quickly as she continued to suck my cock like crazy. She also messaged my balls with one hand. It didn’t take long for me to cum in her mouth. She drank it all down.

“I hope you don’t take long to recover,” she said afterward as she rolled onto her back. “I need this. It’s been a very long time and I’ve had a horrible last couple of days.”

I wondered what happened that made them horrible, but there was no way to find out without letting her know who I was. So instead, I kissed her again. She was obviously excited because her tongue danced wildly in my mouth.

“Oh, very nice,” she cried when she felt my cock hardening again. This time she tried to shift me on top of her. I helped despite my uncertainty. She sighed contently when she felt my weight on her and added, “I’m ready.”

The question was, was I? Would I really have sex with her? I knew she needed it and frankly, I was horny as hell, but what would happen tomorrow? How would we deal when we were both sober?

She was rubbing my cock up and down her pussy.

“Please don’t tease me!” she begged, and the next thing I knew I was pushing inside of her. None of my questions or fears had been addressed, but I was beyond caring at the moment.

She was pretty tight, but she was so excited that it didn’t take me long to push all the way in. I didn’t want to think about the only other time I’d been inside her pussy. Instead, I started stroking in and out of her.

“Yes!” she cried. “You’re so big!”

She wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me deeper. She also raked my back with her nails. It got worse the closer she came to orgasm.

“Nghhgod….” she cried. “I’m cumming!” I was pretty sure she drew blood with her nails.

My own orgasm was still far off. I wanted to bring her pleasure and my own excitement was obvious, but this just wasn’t right. Don’t get me wrong. What we were doing felt amazing and was driving me crazy. I just couldn’t finish, not like this.

She thrashed under me as her orgasm took her. I held her through it and kept my cock pressed as deeply as it would go. It took her surprisingly long time to finish.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding almost as if she were crying. “I really needed that.”

I refused to get off of her or pull out. In fact, it wasn’t long before I started gently moving in and out of her again.

“Again?” she asked in surprise. I pushed in deeper in reply, causing her to moan.

I continued to work her pussy until her excitement grew to the point where she was once again scratching my back. Her pussy was tight, hot and wet. It felt like my cock was an iron-like rod being thrust in and out of a furnace. It was amazing, I wanted to cum inside her, but I knew that there was only one way I’d be able to do that. She needed to know the truth. Could we?

“You are beautiful,” I said, she stopped scratching my back as my words were sinking in past her alcohol filled mind. “I love you.”

“Minho?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes mom,” I answered. “It’s me.”

“No!” she cried and pushed against me wildly. I wouldn’t let her get up, but she spun around and buried herself into the bed. My cock pulled free and I groaned in disappointment.

“Mom, calm down,” I said.

“Get off!” she cried.

“No,” I said, surprising us both. My cock was still hard and wedges between her ass cheeks.

“This is so wrong…” she whimpered.

“It’s already done,” I replied. “And don’t act like didn’t love every minute of it, The bed is soaked.”

“How could you?” she asked.

“I didn’t know it was you at first,” I replied. “What’s your excuse? Just who did you think was in your bed?”

“I didn’t think!” she moaned. “I’m drunk.”

“I know,” I said more gently. “Me too.”

“Minho, please get off of me.” She asked more calmly, but obviously still in shock.

“Mom, we’ve already done the worst we can,” I said. “And it was amazing. I need to cum in you. Please let me.”

“No… Never!” she cried. “You’re my son!”

“I’m also the man whose back you scratched in passion as I drove you to orgasm,” I said.

“We can’t!” she said, but it was obvious she was weakening. I knew that tone of voice. All I needed to do was be patient and I’d get my way. I learned that a long time ago. The only problem was that I couldn’t. I shifted my cock to the entrance of her pussy.

“You wouldn’t,” she cried. I thrust my cock deep. “Stop!”

I ignored her cries, she was now a woman I wanted desperately, needed desperately.

She tried to get out from under me, but I held her in place. She fought harder, but her pussy became wetter with every passing second.

“This is so wrong.” she moaned as she finally stopped fighting and lifted her hips slightly to give me better access. I smiled and pushed in deeper.

“You’re right.” I grunted, and then leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “But that’s not going to stop you from cumming again. Me either.”

“Oh yes…” she groaned. “Cum in me… I want to feel a man fill me again!”

“Even if that man is me?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. She came to her senses and fought briefly once more, but I held her in place until her need took control again. It wasn’t very long. She was too excited to let her sense of right and wrong get in the way. I drove into her over and over again.

“Your cock is so big!” she moaned. “And you’ve found my weakness, just like your father did all those years ago.”

“Weakness?” I asked.

“Don’t make me say it!” she begged between gasps, but oddly, I knew that she wanted me to.

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me your weakness.”

“I won’t!” she cried, suddenly fighting to get out of me again. I held her down and drove into her harder and faster. She suddenly stopped fighting and came. Her orgasm was explosive.

“Yes! Yes! Nghhh…” she moaned.

I was close, but I wasn’t there yet. She thrashed under me violently. It got so bad that my cock popped free of her. I tried to shove it back in, but I missed and ended up pushing against the entrance to her ass.

“Just like your father!” she moaned again as she froze. It took me a moment to realize what she wanted. No way?

“You want me to fuck your ass?” I asked.

“That’s disgusting!” she cried, which wasn’t a denial. I’d never taken a girl’s ass before, but the thought had always interested me. I pressed the head of my cock against the entrance to her ass more firmly. It was surprisingly tight. It didn’t help that she was fighting me once more. She was clenching her ass. I paused. What if she really didn’t want me to?

“Tell me you want me to fuck your ass and I will,” I said.

“Never!” she gasped under me. “I’m a good girl! I would never say something like that!”

“But you want me to, don’t you?” I asked. She didn’t answer. She just fought harder and the truth hit me. “That’s it, isn’t it? You like to think of yourself as normal and wholesome, but the truth is that you’re a slut.”

“I am not!” she cried. “I’m not doing this of my own free will. You’re forcing me!”

“And you love every moment of it.” I said, realizing I was right. “You like being held down. You like being taken. Admit it!”

“Minho, I’m your mother!” she cried in response.

“So?” I asked. “You’re also a woman. Admit it!”

“I can’t!” she cried. I was done talking. I knew the truth even if she wouldn’t say it. Her ass was still clenched. I was tempted to push past her resistance, but I didn’t want to hurt her. So, I shifted down her body.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I ignored her question and forced her thighs apart. Now her pussy and ass were open to me and only inches from my mouth. I stuck my tongue out and licked her pussy. She moaned and relaxed slightly, but that only lasted until my tongue moved to her ass.

“Minho, no!” she cried. “Not even you father did that!”

“His loss.” I grunted and focused on what I was doing. I also drove two fingers into her pussy and used the thumb of the same hand on her clit. It wasn’t long before she moaned loudly and she relaxed. I worked both her pussy and ass hard and she loved every minute of it.

“This is so wrong…” she finally gasped.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed easily now. I smiled and decided to tease her. “How can you just lay there and let your son have his way with your body? I’m licking you ass, what kind of a mother are you?”

“No!” she cried, and started fighting me again.

I moved up her body and pressed her down against the bed. She continued to fight until my cock pushed into her ass for the first time. She cried out and surprised me by thrusting back to meet me.

“Your ass is so tight…” I whispered in her ear as I continued to force more of my cock inside.

“So much like your father!” she gasped out again. “Only bigger!”

“Kiss me.” I demanded as my cock finally reached into the depth of her ass. Her head turned and she looked at me. The room was pitch black, but I could feel her eyes. “Kiss me. Show me just what kind of a slut you really are.”

I thought she’d start fighting me again, but she surprised me by finding my mouth and thrusting her tongue inside. I moved in and out of her ass slowly as we continued to kiss.

“Minho stop…” she cried after a while and refused to kiss me. I knew what she was trying to tell me. She was ready. She wanted me to fuck her ass hard. She needed to feel me take her.

“We’re not done yet.” I said, thrusting into her ass with more power and propping myself up. “I need to cum, I need to fill your ass.”

“No…” she cried and started fighting me. I held her down roughly and fucked her ass with everything I had. My hips slammed into her meaty ass with every stroke and made a slapping sound that drove me crazy. She liked it too. I could tell.

“I’m getting close,” I groaned after a while. “I want you to cum with me. Play with yourself.”

“No… Good girls don’t do that!” she replied.

I took one of her hands and roughly pushed it under her and between her legs. It threw my rhythm off, but that was fine for a bit. I wanted this to last. I took her hand in mine and made her rub her soaked pussy. She fought, but not a lot and not for long. It was only a few seconds before her fingers blurred on her clit without my direction.

“I can’t believe you’re forcing me to do this!” she cried as her orgasm growing.

“Shut up and just do it.” I demanded. She moaned as I started fucking her ass in earnest again. I was holding her hips now and ramming in and out of her.

“I’m cumming!” I cried as my orgasm hit.

“That’s it baby! Cum in me! Fill my ass!” She cried as her own orgasm hit. I guess in the heat of the moment she forgot she was supposed to be a good girl.

I pumped a huge amount of cum into her ass. My orgasm took me for what felt like minutes. This was the hottest moment of my life. I had to admit I liked the roughness of our sex too. It was something new to me.

“Are you okay?” she asked in what sounded like real concern when I became dead weight on top of her.

“Better than that,” I moaned as I rolled off of her. We lay there in silence for a while, both fighting to catch our breath.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said. I could almost see her shaking her head. She was calmer now.

“I know,” I said, surprising her by pulling her so that her head was resting on my shoulder. It was my turn to comfort her by playing with her hair.

“I feel so guilty,” she added.

“Don’t,” I replied. “If anyone should feel guilty it’s me. I did force myself on you.”

“We both know that’s not true,” she sighed.

“Yes it is,” I insisted. “And the truth is that I liked it. I liked it a lot. And don’t you dare say I’m so much like my father again!”

“But you are,” she said. “But only in the ways I like. You’re not the type of guy to run out on his family.”

“No, I’m not,” I agreed vehemently.

“And you are a lot bigger where it counts,” she added. She was obviously trying to defuse my anger at my father. It would always be there, but she was right. This wasn’t the time of place.

“Thanks,” I said. “Knowing that helps.”

“Men!” she laughed.

“So, why did you come home early?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Ugh,” she stareted. “I had to quit my job. My boss tried to force himself on me while we were away, and not in the way I like.”

“That asshole!” I snapped, ignoring her attempt at humor. “I’ll...”

“Do nothing,” she said in that tone all mothers used. “He was my problem and I took care of him. You will stay away from him.”

“Okay,” I said, but it was too quick and she knew.

“Minho, I’m serious,” she said. “He hit on me all trip and it came to a head when we were at a presentation. Someone was up on stage giving a talk and my boss and I were sitting with the rest of the audience. He grabbed my leg under the table and tried to reach higher.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I dumped a glass of water over his head,” she said in satisfaction. “We were in front of most of his clients. It will cost him more than you think.”

“Should’ve sued him,” I said.

“I might,” she replied. “But that’s not a conversation for tonight.”

“Tomorrow then,” I said.

“Well see,” she said, and then changed the subject. “By the way, why aren’t you sleeping in your bed?”

“Sojun and Chaewon came over,” I said nervously. It was weird really. Only a few minutes ago I was in control, holding her down and taking her roughly to both of our enjoyment, but here I was afraid to tell her that we’d had a small party while she was out.

“You and Minjeong had a party, didn’t you?” she guessed.

“Just Sojun and Chaewon,” I said, but then added guiltily. “And Changho, Gyumin and Sojun’s new girlfriend Juhyeon. I thought you were her.”

“You thought I was your cousin’s girlfriend and you jumped me?” she asked.

“Well, she did climb into the bed I was sleeping in,” I said defensively. “Besides, you’d have to meet her to understand. She’s a bit wild.”

“So,” she sighed. “What you’re trying to tell me is that my daughter, nephew and niece are all in the other bedrooms with their significant others having sex?”

“I doubt they’re still at it,” I shrugged. She surprised me by laughing.

“You just better hope your uncle never finds out,” she said when her laughed died down. “He would completely lose it.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You seem to be handling it pretty well.”

“I’m not my brother,” she replied. “And after what we just did, I don’t have any moral high ground to stand on for the moment.”

“Well, that’s true,” I laughed.

“Minho, it’s not funny,” she sighed. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but that isn’t going to help tomorrow when we have to face what it means.”

“You know,” I said thoughtfully. “I like when you talk to me like this.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like a woman,” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong. I love you and appreciate everything you did for Minjeong and me growing up, but we’re adult now. Besides, I never realized just how hot you could be before.”

“That’s wrong on so many levels,” she sighed. “I’m your mother. I’m not supposed to be hot, at least not to you. Besides, we both know that you wouldn’t be saying that if the lights were on.”

I reached for the nightstand. She was clearly not expecting it when the light came on. It was soft and dull, but we’d been in completely darkness.

“Minho!” she cried, reaching for the covers. I rolled on top of her and held her in place. “Stop!”

“Relax,” I said. “I just wanted to prove you wrong. You’re just as hot in the light as in the darkness.” She froze and looked up at me. I smiled down at her.

She looked great. I knew that and so did she. She worked hard at keeping herself that way and her curves showed it.

“You know, whatever else I’d say about your boss, he has great taste.”

“Minho, get off of me,” she said, shaking her head, but smiling slightly.

“I would, but I seem to have a problem,” I said with a grin. She frowned briefly in concern, but she saw my grin and quickly realized the truth. The fact that my cock was bumping into her belly probably helped.

“No way.” she cried, but I ignored her and tried to kiss her. She twisted her face to the side and I ended up kissing her neck. I didn’t mind in the least. I worked my way up to her mouth. “Minho, we can’t… not again.”

“I want you.” I said between kisses. “And I want to look into your eyes as you cum.”

“No…” she cried again, louder.

“If you get much louder, you’re bound to get the attention of everyone else in the house. Could you just picture Minjeong’s reaction? Or uncle if one of his kids told him?”

“That’s my point.” She said. this time she kept her voice lower. “We can’t keep on doing this! We’ll get caught eventually and then what?”

“Good point,” I said, but then grinned and shrugged before adding, “But at the moment I could care less. I want you. I’m going to have you and that’s all that matters.”

She looked up into my eyes and saw that I was serious despite my grin. She licked her lips in a way that left me know she wanted it too. That was all I needed to know. I pushed my cock halfway into her pussy with one thrust.

“Stop….” she cried, fighting me once more. “I’m your mother…”

“You’re a hot woman that I want to make scream.” I growled. Her eyes got bigger as I thrust the rest of my cock inside her. She cried out and wrapped her arms around me. I started stroking in and out of her. Once again, I felt her nails on my back.

“Minho, I thought I raised a good boy.” she gasped as her orgasm neared.

“You did,” I replied. “But no one is good all the time. Not even you,” I said, “Now, be my slut and cum for me.”

“Nghhhyess…” she cried, her body locking up in orgasm. I watched her passion filled expression in awe. She really was beautiful. I’d remember this moment forever. She noticed me watching and added, “Minho cum with me… cum inside me.”

I grunted and let lose. I filled her pussy as she rolled into another orgasm. Our bodies slammed together over and over again until we were both completely spent.

“Tomorrow we’ll deal with the repercussions,” I said, holding her close afterward. “There must be some.”

“I know,” she sighed. She fell silent for a few minutes. I was starting to nod off when she shook her head.

“What?” I asked.

“You do realize that what we’re doing is incest?” she asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “And you want to know the sick part?”

“What?”

“The knowledge is only making it better,” I answered.

“For me too,” she admitted, almost too softly for me to hear. “And I’m the mother. I should know better.”

“So do I,” I shrugged. “I’m not a kid anymore.” We fell silent for a while.

“So much for being a good girl,” she sighed eventually.

“Hey, we didn’t plan this. It just happened,” I said. “There’s no sense is beating ourselves up after the fact.”

“It has to stop,” she said.

“I agree,” I said.

“And you can’t sleep here tonight,” she added.

“I know,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room. Right after I take a shower.”

“Good,” she said, but I thought I heard a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

“You know mom,” I said innocently. “I bet you could use a shower too, and your bathroom has the nice big walk in one.” She looked at me and smiled slowly.

“Yes, it does,” she said. “I think I’ll use it first. You wait here and don’t you dare come in. It would be wrong!”

I watched her walk to her bathroom and smiled. She was seriously hot. I’d always know it, but it never really registered until now. Watching her ass wiggle as she walked made my cock stir despite my last orgasm.

I waited a few minutes until I heard her in the shower and then went to the door. I turned the knob and it opened. She hadn’t locked the door. I smiled widely and went in.

“Oh Minho. What am I going to do with you?” she asked, hiding a smile. She was standing under the shower as hot the water cascaded down her body. I shook my head as I watched.

“I have a few ideas,” I replied moving toward her.

“Don’t you dare,” she cried. “You can’t come in here!” Yet, I noticed she moved back from the door to give me room.

“We’ll see about that.” I snapped, opening the door and stepping in. I took her into my arms and kissed her roughly as she started fighting me. Oddly enough, despite her resisting me, somehow her hand found my cock and her tongue thrust deep into my mouth. This continued for some time.

“I want your ass again.” I growled when I couldn’t take it any longer.

“No…” she cried, spinning away from me.

She ended up standing on her toes with her hands against one of the shower walls. I looked at her ass and shook my head. It was round and full. My mouth literally watered.

“Please don’t kiss me down there again.” she cried as if to let me know what she wanted.

I dropped to my knees and buried my face between her ass cheeks. She cried out and thrust her ass out further, giving me better access. She was more than ready, but I took my time. Her ass tasted amazing and she clearly like how it felt.

“What are you doing?” she cried as I stood and pushed my cock against the entrance to her ass.

“Taking a good girl and making her my slut.” I whispered.

“No…” she said. I crushed her against the shower wall and shoved my cock deep into her ass and started riding her slowly.

I took her hair and pulled it into a ponytail and moved it to one side, giving me access to the back of her neck. It was pale white because she always wore her hair down. I licked it and she squirmed under me. I kissed it and her squirms became more pronounced.

“What are you doing?” she asked. The answer came without me realizing it.

“Marking what’s mine. Marking my slut.” I growled and started sucking hard on her neck. The mark I would leave wouldn’t be seen by anyone else as long as she wore her hair down, but we’d both know it was there. It was something that would last beyond tonight.

“No…” she moaned, but she pushed her ass back hard against my cock, forcing it in even deeper.

“Yes,” I snapped, pulling back and looking at my handiwork. She was marked, but it wasn’t dark enough. Not yet anyway, I kissed her neck again.

“Minho, you are going to make some girl very happy one day,” she gasped.

“I’d settle for you today,”

“I am happy,” she moaned. “It’s been so long since I had a real man and no one has ever gotten to me like you do.”

“Not even father?” I asked.

“Not even him!” she groaned. I could feel her fingers brush my cock as she played with her pussy. She was getting close. So was I.

I took her hips and started riding her ass hard. She moaned loudly and came. I continued to stroke I and out of her until she was done. After that I pulled out and spun her toward me.

Her eyes flashed hungrily as I pushed down on her shoulders. She dropped to her knees and reached for my cock, but I stopped her. I held her head with one hand at arms distance and pointed my cock at her with the other as I brought myself to orgasm.

“Open your mouth,” I demanded. She did as she continued to watch me hungrily.

The first few ropes sprayed her face and chest. Some of it made it into her mouth. She pushed my hand away and fell on my cock. I grabbed her head with both hands and fucked her mouth until I was done.

“You need to go,” she said once I was able to half focus again.

“You’re mine,” I said, still a little blurred from my lust.

“I remember,” she sighed. “And I am yours… for tonight.”

“For as long as that mark remains,” I said. She shook her head.

“I thought we agreed that this was just for tonight?” she asked.

“It’s the smart thing to do,” I said, standing up. She looked up into my eyes nervously. “But I’m not giving this up. I’m not giving you up.”

“And if I don’t want this to happen again?” she asked.

“I’ll take you against your will,” I shrugged. “And you’ll love it.”

“I know you don’t mean that. You would never force me if I really didn’t want to.”

“Mom,” I sighed, looking at her. “I’m not sure if that’s true with you. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” she said. “Go get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I said, but my mind wandered. My concern must have been plain on my face, because she took my chin and made me look into her eyes.

“Minho, don’t worry,” she said with a gently smile. “I know you better than you know yourself. You really wouldn’t force me.”

“I hope you’re right,” I sighed.

“I am,” she said confidently, and then added more softly, “But even if I weren’t it wouldn’t matter. I’ll always want you. I just don’t think it’s the right thing to do.”

“It isn’t,” I agreed, relaxing slightly. “And you’re right. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I kissed her one more time and slipped out of the shower. I dried myself quickly and grabbed my sweats and tee-shirt off the floor in her bedroom. I put them on quickly and took one last look at her bed before leaving. It was rumpled and stained with our pleasure.

It was the same bed I’d gained comfort from when I was a kid. Yet, now it was also something more. It dawned on me that my thoughts described her as well. She was the same person I knew and loved growing up, but now she was something more.

“Hey little brother,” Minjeong said as she flopped down on the couch cushion next to my head with a grin. “What are you doing sleeping out here?”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” I groaned as I sat up. “This couch sucks! I’m exhausted.”

“Weren’t you going to sleep in your mom’s room?” her boyfriend asked.

“That was the plan,” I sighed. “Until she came home.”

“Mom’s home?” Minjeong asked, no longer smiling.

“Yeah,” I replied as I stood and stretched.

“Oh shit!” Changho sigh. “She hates me as it is, and this isn’t going to help.”

I fought off a smile. Mom didn’t hate Changho. She didn’t hate anyone, but then again, he wasn’t her favorite person. Mine either for that matter.

“Does she know about the party?” he asked.

“Of course,she does,” Minjeong said, answering for me.

“Don’t worry,” I said to Minjeong. “I told her it was his idea. You should be okay.” I then turned to Changho and added, “Although, she did say something about wanting to talk to you this morning.”

“What?” he asked nervously.

“Relax,” Minjeong sighed. “Minho is just joking.”

“Very funny!” he said angrily. I shrugged.

“Changho, I think you’d better be going,” Minjeong said. “Mom’s an early riser and I don’t think you want to be here when she gets up.”

“I’m gone,” he said, giving Minjeong a quick kiss and making for the door. I frowned. This guy is annoying.

“Think we should wake up Chaewon and Sojun?” Minjeong asked.

“Probably,” I answered, forgetting about that dumb boyfriend of hers for the moment. “It will give them a chance to prepare.”

“Like you can prepare for one of mom’s lectures,” Minjeong sighed, but then added, “On the other hand, maybe they can slip out too. There’s no reason for everyone to have to face her wrath.”

“I’ll wake them,” I said.

I climbed the stairs quickly as memories of the night before drifted through my head. My hangover was bad and my head throbbed. Thinking was almost painful. I was also exhausted from trying to sleep on the couch.

The last question was the one that concerned me the most. I had no idea how to react, but I figured I’d work through it eventually. On the other hand, I was seriously worried about mom. I was afraid that there was a good chance she wouldn’t handle it at all. And then what?

I pushed open the guest bedroom door and forced the thoughts of the night before out of my head for the moment. Chaewon and her boyfriend Gyumin were asleep in the bed.

“Wake up you two.” I said, shaking the bed. Gyumin didn’t budge, but Chaewon opened her eyes.

“For God’s sake, why?” Chaewon groaned.

“Because my mom’s home,” I replied.

“Aunt? Oh shit!” Chaewon cried, and then started shaking her boyfriend.

I left the room and moved on to my bedroom. I pulled my shirt off as I went. I needed something to get me going. A shower was just the thing. I’d grab some clothes while I woke Sojun and his girl up. Maybe it would help with my hangover.

I threw open the door to find Juhyeon riding my cousin on my bed. The room smelled of sex. Juhyeon looked at me and smiled. I shook my head. She didn’t even pause in what she was doing.

“You two better hurry,” I said. “Because my mom is home and she’s bound to wake up soon.”

“Damn!” Sojun cried and pushed his girl off of him. Juhyeon clearly wanted to finish. I shook my head and went to the dresser.

I grinned to myself, remembering last night when I thought I was going to get a chance to do much more than just look. That hadn’t worked out, but something much different had.

“Minho, what the hell happened to your back?” Sojun cried as he stood and threw on his clothes. Juhyeon did as well, but she was moving slower.

“Looks like someone played with a tigress,” she grinned. It took me a second to realize what they were talking about.

“Yeah,” I said, thinking as quickly as I could. “I met a girl a couple of nights ago. She was wild.”

“She must have been.” Sojun laughed.

“You’d better get going,” I prompted. “Mom will be up soon.”

“Right!” he said.

“I’m right behind you,” Juhyeon said when Sojun looked at her impatiently. He nodded and left. I moved to leave and take my shower, but she stopped me by placing a hand on my shoulder.

“What?” I asked. She was looking at me oddly.

“Those scratches are new,” she said. “There’s no way they happened before last night.”

“No...” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand briefly to silence my protests.

“Maybe I was wrong,” she smiled sexily. “Maybe you can handle my sister.”

“You’re older sister?” I asked. She nodded, getting very close.

“You must be wilder than Sojun describes,” she said. Juhyeon was so close that if I moved at all our bodies would touch. “Because those scratches are new and I’m the only girl not related to you in the house.”

“That’s- I...” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand again.

“I know,” she smiled, her eyes burning into mine. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. It also doesn’t mean that it doesn’t get to me… on a purely sexual level.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that. It didn’t matter. Juhyeon removed her hand from my mouth and barely brushed her lips against mine before turning and moving toward the door.

“I’m looking forward to introducing you to my sister,” she said as she left the room. “It’s been a while since she and I double dated.”

I swallowed hard. It was such an innocent statement, but I thought there was more to it. She didn’t seem shocked at all by her discovery that I had an incestuous affair, only enticed.

“I’m sure it will be some double date,” I mumbled to myself, and then thought, ‘I think it’s time Sojun and I had a talk. I want to make sure he knows what Juhyeon is hinting at before I meet her sister.’

The shower felt good. My back stung as the water hit the scratches and I let myself dwell on how I got them for the first time since waking up. If nothing else, they were proof that the night before wasn’t a dream.

“Wow!” I said, shaking my head as the truth tried to sink it.

The whole situation from the night before was impossible, but it had happened. I knew that, and now I’d have to deal with the repercussions. I finished my shower, dried and got dressed. I even took the time to brush my teeth and dry my hair. I almost felt human again by the time I left the bathroom.

I could hear voices being raised downstairs. Mom was obviously awake and it sounded like Minjeong and her were going at it.

When I went to downstair, it was just Mom and Minjeong, and the others were nowhere to be found.

“Let me make you some breakfast before I’m leave,” Mom said, but poor Minjeong looked totally confused.

“What’s up with mom?” Minjeong frowned.

“Ease up on her,” I said softly. “Mom quit her job last night.”

“She what?” Minjeong cried, but then added, “Let me guess. It was her boss, he hit on her, didn’t he?”

“You knew about him?” I asked in surprise.

“No, but I guessed,” Minjeong sighed. “He had jerk written all over him. I’d better go in and make sure she’s alright.”

“Okay, but don’t push her,” I said. “She’ll tell you about it when she’s ready.”

“Minho, mom’s not the only one acting weird today,” Minjeong said, but then thankfully left the room before I could think of how to respond.

I moved on to the guest bedroom and clean it while he was in the shower. It didn’t take long and I had plenty to think about.

“Breakfast!” I heard Minjeong call up the stairs.

The meal ended up being surprisingly good. Mom seemed to be relaxing and I made sure not to do or saying anything to upset her. We were all laughing at one point when the phone rang. Mom picked it up.

-

“This is still my house and I don’t want it becoming party central or where you and Minho have your booty calls.”

“Booty call?” Minjoeng asked in surprise. “Where in the world did you hear that?”

“I’m old, not dead!” mom sighed.

“Who are you and what have you done with my mother?” Minjeong asked.

“Very funny,” mom sighed, glancing my way briefly. I’d intentionally remained quiet. “I guess last night opened my eyes up to a lot of things. It wasn’t just your party and sleep over.”

“I know,” Minjeong said. “Minho told me.”

“Heard what?” mom asked, clearly stunned. I knew what she was thinking.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I guess I should have let you tell Minjeong that you quit your job.”

“My job?” mom said, shaking her head. “Ah right.”

“Are you okay?” Minjeong asked.

“I will be,” mom answered honestly. “It’s just a lot to take in all at once.”

“Don’t worry mom,” Minjeong said. “Minho and I will help.”

“We’ll be fine,” mom smiled. “I’ve got enough saved before I’ll have another job.”

“I still think you should sue him,” I grumbled. “Or better yet, let me pay him a visit.”

“No.” mom snapped. “I can take of him myself.”

We changed the subject and went back to finishing breakfast.

-

“I’m wiped,” I sighed.

“I guess that means I can’t convince you to help me clean?” Minjeong asked.

“You clean? That’ll never happen. Do you even know how to wash a dish?” I joked.

“Very funny,” Minjeong said. “You jerk.”

Minjeong really wasn’t much of a cleaner. She could do it when she put her mind to it, but that wasn’t very often. I wasn’t much better, but I’d been known to throw a load of laundry on every so often. I even vacuumed upon rare occasions.

“You aren’t serious, are you?” I asked.

“Yes I am,” she replied. “Mom had a tough day.” I frowned and nodded. I was very tired, but she was right. On the other hand, cleaning could wait a little while.

“How about we take a nap first?” I asked. “Mom will be out for a while.”

“Hmm,” Minjeong said thoughtfully. “That does sound good, but I need a shower first.”

“Enjoy,” I shrugged. “Bed time for me.”

Minjeong was first to the stairs. She climbed them and it actually took me a moment to realize I was staring at her ass.

‘Pervert!’ I snapped to myself, but then I shrugged. After what happened with mom, did it really matter? I took a few moments to think about my sister and her appearance. ‘Shit, Minjeong’s pretty hot!’

It wasn’t that I didn’t know what she looked like or that I thought she wasn’t attractive before, but I’d never truly looked at her as a girl. No, that’s not right. I’d never looked at her in a sexual way, and I was now. Fuck.

Minjeong had mom’s blond hair and was built athletically. Her ass was small, but rounded nicely from all the sports she played in high school and college. She was a gym teacher and it showed. Her breasts weren’t nearly as big as moms, but they were still pretty amazing on her tight body.

“What?” Minjeong asked when we reached the top of the stairs. She obviously noticed the attention I was giving her.

“You know,” I said, breaking one of the unspoken rules between us. “You could do a lot better than Changho.” I saw her start to swell up angrily, but then she stopped and sighed, letting out a breath.

“You’re right,” she said, surprising me. “It’s too bad really. He’s handsome and smart.”

“Pretty packaging doesn’t make a good guy,” I said. “And neither does brains. And what’s with the total lack of a sense of humor?”

“Okay little brother, ease off,” she said pointedly. I raised my hands with palm toward her in surrender. Minjeong rolled her eyes and laughed.

I’d learned long ago not to comment on her boyfriends. The fact that she hadn’t jumped all over me when I offered up my opinion about Changho said a lot about how close she was to dumping him already.

“See you in a couple of hours,” I said, entering my room. The clean sheets felt wonderful and I was out almost instantly.

-

I woke up slowly. It took me a few minutes to realize I wasn’t alone in my room. Minjeong had pulled my desk chair out and was sitting in it, facing me. She looked like she’d been there for a while. I looked at her and rubbed my face as I fought to wake up. Whatever was bothering her was bad.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up.

“I couldn’t go to sleep after my shower,” she said. “I was thinking about how to break up with Changho.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered. She shrugged it off and continued.

“So, I decided to start cleaning,” she said. “I couldn’t vacuum with you sleeping so I did laundry instead.”

“Sounds reasonable,” I shrugged, fighting to get my mind fully functioning and wondering where she was going with this conversation.

“There were plenty of sheets to clean, so I started there,” she added, looking at me meaningfully. I still wasn’t processing well enough to follow her yet.

“Okay,” I offered. Minjeong frowned and shook her head before continuing.

“Can you imagine my surprise when I found four sets of dirty sheets instead of just three?” she asked. “Mom typically does laundry on Tuesdays. I was wondering why she stripped her bed this morning.”

‘Shit,’ I thought, finally catching on. ‘Oh shit!’

“So I opened them to see if she dropped something on them that might need special attention,” Minjeong continued. “They were a mess, but not really that much different than any of the other sheets. They were damp and cum stained.”

“Really?” I finally got out, my mind whirling. “I guess it’s true. Even moms need to take care of themselves.”

“Minho, there were fluids from both a woman and a man,” she said angrily. “What happened last night?”

I was tempted to deny everything and play stupid, but Minjeong wouldn’t fall for it, not after she saw my expression when she mentioned what she found. I’m sure I looked guilty as hell and Minjeong could usually read me better than anyone else other than mom.

I was also tempted to tell her that I took care of myself before mom came home and that she must have followed suit afterward, but one look into Minjeong’s eyes and I knew it was pointless, so instead, I told her the truth. It didn’t take very long.

“I can’t believe it,” Minjeong said, shaking her head.

“Honestly, me neither,” I sighed. “It’s not like I planned it.”

“But you didn’t stop it either,” Minjeong said pointedly.

“I was drunk!” I shrugged. “So was she and the truth is that we both needed it.”

“So, last night was the first time?” Minjeong asked.

“Yes,” I answered. We fell silent for what felt like minutes. I had no idea what to say and Minjeong was obviously trying to accept what she learned.

“Did you both enjoy it?” she asked, surprising me.

“I guess,” I answered uncomfortably.

“You guess?” she asked. “That’s it?”

“Okay, fine,” I sighed. “Yes, we both enjoyed it. Hell, it was the best sex I ever had, does that make you feel better?”

“It makes me feel left out,” Minjeong said glumly.

“It’s not like you weren’t busy with Changho,” I said.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she replied. “Ever since dad died it’s been the three of us together. Now I feel like I’m on my own.”

“Why?” I frowned. “Because mom and I accidentally ended up in the same bed and let our passions get the better of us?”

“Yes,” she shrugged. I knew it was an honest answer even if I didn’t understand it.

“I’m willing to cuddle with you if that will help?” I joked badly.

“If I thought it would help, I might take you up on it,” she sighed. “But I don’t. Besides, I’m not ready for that.”

“Minjeong, you know mom and I love you.” I said.

“Yes,” she smiled, but her eyes were sad. She stood and added, “I think it’s time for a nap of my own.”

I watched her leave the room and shook my head. What could I do to make Minjeong happy? I didn’t want to see her this upset.

‘I’d better let her sleep and see how she feels when it sinks in,’ I thought. ‘Hell, it’s barely sunk in with me.’

Minjeong slept a long time. I let her. I was just thinking about waking her when mom came home. She didn’t look happy.

“My brother can be so...” she began angrily, but I cut her off.

“We have bigger problems,” I interjected. “Minjeong knows.”

“Knows what?” she asked.

“She decided to do the sheets while you were out and I was sleeping,” I said. “She found the ones to your bed.” Mom shook her head almost numbly and sank down on the couch.

“She’s twenty-three and never done a chore without me nagging and today she decides to help?” she said, obviously stunned.

I got up and went to her wine rack. It was the only alcohol left in the house because we made it off limits the night before. I poured us both a glass and handed one to her as I sat down on the couch next to her.

“How did she react?” she asked after downing half her glass.

“Oddly,” I frowned. “She wasn’t so much mad or disgusted as hurt. She feels left out. She thinks we now have something special that she’s not part of.”

“That’s bad,” mom frowned.

“I’m sorry mom,” I sighed. “This is all my fault.”

“Not all,” she said, shaking her head. “If I really wanted you to stop last night, I could have made you, but it just felt so good.”

“Yes, it did.” I said, sipping mine.

We sat there for a while. We didn’t say much, but we did finish the bottle of wine quickly enough. Minjeong came down from her nap as I was opened the second bottle. I saw her frown, but she took the glass I handed her. The three of us looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

“I know it’s been a while,” mom suddenly smiled as a thought came to her. “But I think it’s time for movie night.”

“Movie night?” Minjeong asked in surprise. “Aren’t we a little old for that?”

“That’s a great idea,” I said quickly. “You’re never too old for a movie night.”

Every once in a while, when we were kids, mom used to set up trays in her bedroom. We’d eat and watch television, something she never let us do normally. Afterward, we’d settle onto her bed and watch a movie. Mom always let us stay up late and eat plenty of popcorn and candy. It was just the bonding experience Minjeong needed now.

“Minjeong, you can choose the movie,” mom said. “I’ll order from your favourite restaurant.”

“But...” Minjeong began. It was too late. Mom was already in the kitchen picking up the phone.

“What’s gotten into her?” Minjeong asked.

“I told her what you figured out,” I replied. “She wants you to know that she loves you.”

“You told her?” Minjeong cried.

“I had to,” I shrugged. “Your reaction before was bad.”

“I was tired and hung over!” Minjeong snapped, but I knew there was more to it.

“Just humour mom and go with it. She’s really worried about you,” I sighed, and then added more softly. “So am I.”

“I’m fine,” Minjeong said, a little too quickly.

“Good,” I said. “Then a movie will be fun.”

“I really should go find Changho and break it off,” Minjeong frowned.

“Give him one more night,” I said. “I never liked the guy much, but even he deserves one more night of believing he’s dating one of the hottest girl’s alive.”

“Very funny,” Minjeong sighed.

“Who’s joking?” I replied, but then hit her with a couch pillow before she could respond. It was a short, vicious fight and although I typically won, just this once I let her.

“Will you two cut it out?” mom snapped from the doorway, but she wasn’t really angry. How could she be? Both Minjeong and I were laughing.

“How long until the food is ready?” I asked.

“You have just enough time to put on your shoes and go pick it up,” mom grinned.

“I walked into that one,” I laughed.

“I think I’d better go,” Minjeong sighed. “You two have been drinking.” I started to argue, but mom cut me off when she realized Minjeong was right.

“We’ll have everything ready when you get back,” mom said. I nodded in agreement.

There wasn’t that much to do, but we busied ourselves with getting mom’s room ready. We also continued to drink the wine, only slower now. When the second bottle was gone, we both agreed to hold off on any more until after we ate. We were well on our way to being drunk.

“Minho, stop that.” mom snapped. She was standing at the counter getting the popcorn maker ready for later.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re staring at my ass!”

“I am?” I laughed, walking up behind her. She turned and faced me quickly.

“Don’t you dare…” she says. “Hasn’t what happened already caused enough trouble?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “But you know the old adage. You can’t go back. We have to move on.”

“Agreed,” she said. “And moving on entails never making the same mistake again.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “What happened was wrong, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a mistake.”

“Minho, you can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am,” I said. “I really liked what happened. So did you.”

“I did not…” mom cried, but we both knew she was lying. “Okay, I was drunk and in need and you took care of it admirable, but it’s wrong.”

“And that makes it even hotter.” I groaned, pulling her into a kiss. she returned the kiss despite her protests, but when it was done she pushed me back with both hands.

“No…” she said. “Tonight is about Minjeong. We hurt her and that’s unacceptable.”

“You’re right,” I said, but then pulled her again. “But Minjeong isn’t here right now and just looking at you is driving me crazy.”

“Minho!” she cried. She spun away from me, but I had her trapped against the counter. I thrust my hard-on against her ass to let her know just how much she was getting to me. “We can’t… There’s no time…”

“I don’t know about that,” I grinned, lifting her skirt up past her ass and pushing her panties down. I was wearing sweats and they dropped past my cock easily enough. She was try to fight, but she thrust out her ass giving me access to what we both wanted. She moaned when I pushed my cock inside her pussy.

“Oh Minho…” she moaned. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know,” I grinned. “But I do know what you’re going to do for me.”

“There’s no time!” she moaned.

“Then hurry,” I groaned in reply, picking up the pace.

She was leaning over the counter as I fuck her hard. I was just starting to feel my orgasm approaching when I heard the front door open.

“Fuck.” I cried, pulling out quickly.

“No…” she moaned in frustration. “I was so close!”

“Sorry,” I said, meaning it. God, did I mean it?

“Just go stop your sister from coming in here.” she snapped. “If she walks in right now, she’ll know what we were just doing and that wouldn’t be good.”

“Agreed,” I said, pulling my sweats back up. I also pulled my shirt down and let it cover my front. It was the best I could do.

“Mom went crazy,” Minjeong said when she saw me. “There’s more food than we could eat in a week.”

“She’s really looking forward to this,” I said. “Let’s go set the food out upstairs. She’ll join us in a minute.” Minjeong must have sensed something because she looked at me funny. I guess it made sense. Only a few moments before I was stroking in and out of mom. That wasn’t something that was easy to hide, especially considering I had to stop abruptly just before my release.

I tried to focus on looking as innocent as possible, but I wasn’t sure I fooled Minjeong. On the other hands she didn’t say anything as we brought the food upstairs.

It was weird to be back in moms’ room after the night before. Scenes of what happened flashed in my head and they didn’t nothing to help calm down my already surging libido. I went to the bathroom and threw some cold water on my face after the food was set out. It helped.

The meal was delicious and we laughed and watched television during it. It was like old times except for the fact that my eyes lingered on mom overly long upon occasion. She would frown when she noticed until I looked away. I think Minjeong might have noticed once, but she just shook her head and took a sip of her wine.

The movie Minjeong picked was decent for a chick flick. We were all slightly drunk by the time it ended. We’d done a good job of denting mom’s wine collection, but the food balanced it.

“Another movie?” mom asked.

“Sure, why not?” Minjeong smiled. Mom and I exchanged a smile of our own. Minjeong seemed okay.

“Can I choose?” I asked.

“Please…” mom snorted. “I don’t want to watch something gory right now. The food is just settling in.”

“And porn is out too,” Minjeong joked.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it,” I teased back.

“And what makes you think I’ve never tried it?” Minjeong asked. She was clearly feeling no pain.

“Minjeong!” mom cried.

“Come on mom,” Minjeong grinned. “Are you telling me you never watched porn?”

“I haven’t,” mom shrugged.

“Wow,” Minjeong laughed. She was obviously drunker than I thought. “I would think in this day and age everyone’s seen porn, or at least a clip. I mean the internet makes it all so available.”

“Not me,” mom shrugged. “I worked with computers all day. Why would I want to be on one at night?”

“Mom, you really need to get a life,” Minjeong sighed.

“That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” I asked in surprise.

“Oh please…” Minjeong said, rolling her eyes. “If mom had one, maybe she wouldn’t have had sex with you last night and ruined everything.”

“That’s not fair!” I said. Mom put her hand on my arm.

“Maybe Minjeong is right,” she said calmly, but her eyes were welling up with tears.

“Oh shit!” Minjeong sigh when she realized what she’d said and how badly mom was taking it. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“I know dear,” mom sighed. “But that doesn’t make you wrong. I don’t know why I let Minho do what he did.”

“You didn’t let me,” I said. “I didn’t give you a choice.”

“Oh Minho…” mom sighed. “Like I said earlier, you couldn’t...”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. I grabbed her and kissed her. Mom was so surprised that she didn’t fight at first, but it wasn’t long before we were wresting on the bed. I rolled on top of her and pinned her under me before kissing her again.

“Wow.” Minjeong sigh, reminding me she was there.

“And that’s what happened last night,” I said, moving off with some difficulty. “She couldn’t have stopped me if she wanted to.”

“But I didn’t want to,” mom said, sitting up and wiping her lips. “And that’s really the point.”

“This is a lot more than just incest,” Minjeong said, shaking her head. “You two are seriously perverted!”

“And you’re not?” I asked. “I heard your bed last night. It was slamming into the wall pretty hard.”

“He’s my boyfriend! that doesn’t make me perverted!” Minjeong groaned.

“But you can’t say that you didn’t like what you just saw. I can see it in your eyes.” Mom said.

“So?”

“So, if you weren’t perverted you would have been disgusted,” mom replied. “Instead, you got excited.”

“I’m both,” Minjeong said.

“Maybe, but you’re a lot more of the second,” I grinned.

“I’m drunk,” Minjeong said again.

“We all are,” I shrugged. “What does that have to do with it?”

“It’s the alcohol making the sight of you two kissing turn me,” Minjeong said.

“I doubt it works that way,” I said.

“Drinking lowers your inhibitions,” mom put in. “It doesn’t make you like something you don’t.”

“Fine!” Minjeong snapped. “I’m just as perverted as you two! Does that make everything alright?” She ran out of the room before either one of us could answer.

“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “How did we get here?”

“I think we both know the answer to that,” mom frowned. “What we did was a mistake. I knew it then, but I didn’t realize how badly Minjeong was going to take it.”

“Me neither,” I frowned. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” mom said, and for some reason that shook me. Mom always knew what to do.

“I think we need to sleep on it and see how she’s feeling in the morning,” I finally said. Mom nodded.

“You need to sleep in your own bed tonight,” she said.

“Agreed,” I sighed, standing and going to my room without kissing her goodnight, but only because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop despite what was going on with Minjeong. I loved her and didn’t want to make her upset.

I lay in bed for quite a while, unable to fall asleep. My mind vacillated between my desire for mom and my concern for Minjeong. Hell, there was a part of it that even wondered what being with Minjeong would be like.

‘Pervert!’ I grumbled, but that only made it worse.

I closed my eyes and tried to wipe all the thoughts from my head. I pictured a white room with no corners. It was my version of counting sheep. It started to work.

“Minho?” I heard from the doorway to my room. It was Minjeong’s voice. “You still awake?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“I’m sorry about before,”

“Me too,” I sighed. “I know mom feels bad too.” Minjeong came into my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

“You know what all this goes to show?” she asked.

“What?”

“That I should never do laundry ever again,” she replied. “I would never have found out if I didn’t.” It was a weak attempt at humour, but it was an attempt nonetheless.

“The man you marry better be rich,” I teased. “He’ll need to hire a cook; a maid and god knows what else.”

“Ha Ha, Very funny.”

“Hey, the truth hurts,” I laughed.

“Jerk!” she snapped, but she was laughing too. It lasted far too long, but she obviously needed it.

“Minho, I want to go back to mom’s room,” she said afterward. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” I said. “But what for?”

“We always end a movie night by falling asleep together,” Minjeong said softly. “I miss that.”

“Well let’s go,” I smiled, getting out of bed and taking Minjeong by the hand. We went down the hall and knocked on mom’s door. The light was still on so I knew she was awake, but she took a few moments to answer the door.

“Come in.” she finally called.

I opened the door and led Minjeong in. I took one look at mom and saw that she’d been crying. Damn Minjeong noticed too, but didn’t say anything.

“Yes?” mom asked.

“Move over,” Minjeong smiled and climbed into mom’s bed. I moved to the other side and got in as well. Minjeong was already resting her head on mom’s shoulder. “Sorry mom.”

“No, I’m sorry,” mom replied.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” I put said. “After a good night’s sleep.”

“Sounds good,” Minjeong said, reaching out the nightstand and shutting the light. “Good night.”

“Night,” mom said.

“Sweet dreams,” I put in. I knew I was going to have some. I was in bed with my her again and it was dark. I was sorely tempted to touch her, but I knew it would be a mistake. The thought of Minjeong being in bed with us didn’t help at all.

I’m not sure who fell asleep first, but I know I was last.

“Wow…” I heard as I slowly woke up. It was Minjeong’s voice again. “Is he always like that in the morning?”

“How should I know?” mom asked in reply.

“But you’ve seen it before,” Minjeong said, her voice a little excited. I was awake now, but I didn’t open my eyes. I had a feeling I knew what they were talking about. I could feel my hardness even with my eyes closed.

“Yes,” Mom replied nervously.

“You’ve felt it inside of you?” Minjeong asked. She knew the answer, but I guess she wanted mom to say it.

“Minjeong!” mom cried in surprise, but then slowly added, “Yes.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” mom admitted. “Very good.”

“He’s big, isn’t he?” Minjeong asked. “I mean, I know he’s bigger than Changho, but he’s big in general, right?”

“Minjeong, I have a feeling that you probably have as much experience with men as I do,” mom answered. “But I’d say yes. He’s big. He’s certainly bigger than your father.”

“Who would have thought it of my younger brother?”

“Maybe we should cover it up” mom said.

“No, leave it. I like looking at it.”

“But he’s your brother!”

“And your son,” Minjeong said pointedly. That quickly quelled mom’s protests. “I still can’t believe that you both really did it.”

“You and me both,” mom sighed.

“Do you regret it?” Minjeong asked. “I mean really regret it, not just feel guilty about it because it’s wrong.”

“I regret how it’s affected you,” mom replied. “Neither one of us wanted to hurt you.”

“I know that,” Minjeong sighed. “It’s just that it’s been the three of us for so long. I didn’t realize just how much the thought of you two excluding me from something would hurt.”

“Minjeong, you weren’t excluded,” mom said. “At least not intentionally.”

“But that’s how I feel,” she replied, sounding sad.

“So, you’d feel better if we’d included you in our perverted, incestuous affair?” mom asked in disbelief.

“I honestly don’t know,” Minjeong replied. “But maybe…”

“You’re serious?”

“It would be wrong, but I wouldn’t feel so alone like I do right now,”

“Oh Minjeong,” mom said. “Don’t cry. You know I love you with all my heart.”

“I do,” Minjeong said, obviously fighting back the tears. I felt guilty making believe I was sleeping through this, but ‘waking up’ right at this moment would only make things worse.

“Are you going to be okay?” mom asked after a while.

“I’ll be fine,” Minjeong replied slowly. “But only if you do me a favor.”

“What?” mom asked.

“I want you to kiss me,” my sister said. “Like you kissed him last night.”

“But you’re my daughter!”

“And he’s your son,” Minjeong replied. “That didn’t stop you.”

“I didn’t kiss him.” mom cried. “He kissed me.”

“True,” Minjeong said, and suddenly I could feel the bed move.

“What are you doing?” I heard mom cry. “Don’t!”

“I want to kiss you,” Minjeong said. “Don’t you love me the same you do Minho?”

“Of course, but you’re a girl.” mom argued.

“So?” Minjeong asked. “Haven’t you ever kissed a girl before?”

“No!” mom cried.

“Well, I have,” Minjeong replied.

“On God!” mom cried.

“It was a long time ago when I first started dating,” Minjeong said. “Chaewon and I practiced kissing each other.”

“Your cousin?” mom cried.

“Oh relax,” Minjeong sighed. “All we did was kiss. It’s no big deal.”

“Did you like it?” mom surprised me by asking.

“Honestly… yes,” Minjeong replied. “It was the best kiss I had for a long time, but I think that was mostly because it was also the most relaxed. Eventually I met some guys who kisses drove me far crazy.”

“Like your brother’s,” Mom said, sounding thoughtful.

“I don’t know,” Minjeong said. “I’ve never kissed him.”

“Why don’t we wake him and you can see?” mom offered.

‘Oh yes, please’ I thought to myself.

“Mom, I want to kiss you first,” Minjeong said.

“I can’t.” mom moaned. “I just can’t do it!”

“Then you do love Minho more than you do me” Minjeong said, obviously close to tears again.

“You’re wrong.” mom cried, sounding teary-eyed herself. It was time to wake up. This was only moments away from disintegrating into something very bad.

“Minjeong,” I said as I opened my eyes and sat up. “Weren’t you paying attention last night? Or just a few minutes ago when mom tried to tell you her problem with kissing you?”

“You’re awake!” mom cried.

“Of course,” I smiled.

“I don’t understand,” Minjeong frowned.

“She just told you that she didn’t kiss me,” I explained. “Mom thinks of herself as a good girl. She doesn’t do things like incest and lesbianism.” I laugh.

“But...” Minjeong began. I cut her off.

“She’s never going to kiss you,” I interjected. “But that doesn’t mean she’ll stop you from kissing her.”

“She just did,” my sister cried. “I tried, but she pushed me back.”

“Try harder,” I grinned.

“Hey, Wait a minute…” mom cried, but I silenced her by grabbing her by the neck and pulling her lips to mine. Mom fought at first, but then moaned softly into my mouth.

“See?” I said, pulling back. Minjeong was smiling once again.

“I get it,” she grinned.

“Don’t!” mom cried, but she licked her lips in excitement. “Good girls don’t kiss their mothers!”

“And whatever gave you the idea that I’m a good girl?” Minjeong laughed, taking mom’s head in both hands and kissing her. Again, mom fought, but only for a few moments. Minjeong moaned happily when mom’s mouth opened.

“That looks hot” I groaned.

“Don’t worry brother,” Minjeong grinned. “I have a kiss waiting for you too.”

“Just a kiss?” I asked.

“You’re terrible!” Minjeong laughed, shaking her head before leaning toward me. Her lips were only inches from mine when she stopped. “I shouldn’t. You’re my brother.”

I grabbed Minjeong’s the neck the same way I had grabbed mom’s moments before. I pulled her to me and our lips met. She didn’t fight me like mom, but it was obvious that she wanted me to be aggressive.

“That’s so wrong,” mom moaned excitedly.

“Oh, but he kisses so nicely.” Minjeong moaned.

“It’s not the only thing I do nicely,” I grinned.

“Don’t you dare.” mom cried.

“Think you’re man enough, little brother?” Minjeong asked, her eyes starting to burn with the same lust I could see in mom’s eyes. I was certain it was in mine as well. I took off the few clothes I had on. Minjeong did the same.

“Minjeong don’t… He’s your brother!”

“And you’re my mother,” Minjeong replied. “I wish I was a little braver because then I would try doing something more with you.”

“Oh shit.” I moaned, my cock standing straight out by now. “Now that’s hot.”

“You do like the thought, don’t you little brother?” Minjeong grinned, taking my cock in her hand and stroking it. “Or should I call you big brother?”

“You can call me whatever you want,” I groaned. “Just don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“How about we let mom help?” Minjeong asked. “I don’t want her to feel left out.”

“No.” mom sigh, but everything else about her demanded to be part of what was happening.

Minjeong forced mom’s head down to my lap. Mom fell on my cock despite her protests. Minjeong watched hungrily for a few minutes. Mom’s hair was in the way, so she pulled it into a ponytail and lifted it.

“What’s that?” Minjeong frowned, looking down at mom’s neck. The hickey I left was very noticeable.

“Mom said that we could only be together for one night,” I answered, remembering. “I disagreed and left that mark. I told her she was mine until it faded.”

“Do you always mark what’s yours?” Minjeong asked, smiling sexily. She was obviously enjoying teasing me.

“Yes.” I groaned. “Now why don’t you help mom?”

“Oh?” Minjeong grinned sexily before moving down between my legs as well. She pushed mom’s mouth off of me and started licking my cock. Mom shifted down to my balls and sucked gently.

“Oh fuck.” I grunted. “I’m not going to last long with both of you doing that.”

I had one hand on each of their heads and I couldn’t stop myself from thrusting up into Minjeong’s mouth. She locked eyes with me briefly and then took my entire length down her throat. I groaned and came. Minjeong drank it all down.

“We have to stop.” mom said afterward. Minjeong smiled at her and then pulled mom’s lips to hers and exchanged a deep kiss. It actually took me a few moments to realize they were sharing my cum.

“Damn.” I groaned, actually feeling my cock start to stiffen despite the orgasm I had moments ago.

“Little brother,” Minjeong said, pulling back from mom after a while and wiping her lips. She looked at me and I smiled knowingly. “Will you help me?”

In moments I was on top of her with my cock rubbing up and down her entrance. Minjeong took it in her hand and directed to her pussy. I pushed in slowly.

“Oh brother… yesss!” Minjeong cried. “You’re going so deep!”

“Minho no!” mom cried. “She’s your sister!”

I pulled mom to me and kissed her roughly. She gasped into my mouth. I reached out and palmed her pussy, thrusting the middle fingers deep.

“Don’t worry mom,” I said. “You’re next.”

“No…” she cried, but then shifted so that her mouth was next to my ear. She whispered one word and pulled away. “Hurry…” It surprised me and my cock stiffened even more.

“I’ve never felt so full before!” Minjeong gasped. I leaned forward and kissed her as I began stroking in and out of her hot pussy. Her pussy was perfect, it was tight! Minjeong wrapped her arms around my shoulder as I thrust into her.

“He’s your brother. You’re letting your brother fuck you!” mom cried.

“Oh yeah…” Minjeong moaned. “Keep talking mom. It’s only getting me hornier!” I saw mom smiled slightly.

“It’s so wrong.” mom cried. “I don’t care how good his big cock feeling pushing inside of you.”

“Ohhh It does… It does feel so good!” Minjeong moaned. “Minho’s cock is reaching deeper than any other guy ever has before! I can feel my orgasm building.”

“Wait until it hits,” mom said, looking at me hungrily and forgetting herself for a moment. “Minho knows how to make your body feel like it’s exploding.”

“Nghhyesss!” Minjeong cried.

“But that doesn’t mean you should let him do this,” mom added, staring at her expression once more. Minjeong’s face was completely lit with her lust. “Don’t let him fill your pussy with his cum!”

“Oh yess!” Minjeong moaned. “Fill my pussy! Please!”

“You are such a slut.” I groaned, kissing her roughly.

“Minjeong, you see?” mom asked. “Now your brother thinks you’re a slut, is that what you want?”

“I want him to cum in me!” “Minjeong gasped. “I don’t care if he thinks I’m a slut. I’ll be his slut if he just cum in me!”

“So you want to be his slut?” mom asked rhetorically, but she then surprised me by turning to me and added, “If that’s what she wants then you’re doing it wrong.”

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“Sluts get taken from behind,” mom smiled. “You know that.”

“Oh yes!” Minjeong moaned. “He’ll get even deeper than way!”

I pulled out without another word. Minjeong kissed me briefly before rolling onto her stomach. Her tight ass was same as mom’s, just as enticing. her pussy was open and inviting. My mouth literally watered.

“Wait… what are you doing?” Minjeong asked as instead of going back to fucking her I shifted lower and thrust my tongue into her pussy.

“That’s it,” mom cried. “Lick the little slut’s pussy!”

“Mom!” Minjeong cried.

“You said you wanted to be his slut, now deal with it!”

“Ohhh….” Minjeong cried. “You’re going to pay for that later!” Mom smiled again.

I continued to lick her pussy until she was on the brink of orgasm. She arched her back and gave me full access.

“Minho’s little slut, do you want to cum this way or do you want him to fuck you again?” mom asked Minjeong.

“Fuck me please!” Minjeong moaned. I shifted up and thrust my cock deep with one long stoke.

“Wow.” mom gasped.

“Ohhfuckkk!” Minjeong cried. “I’m going to cum…”

I was close, but not there. I fuck Minjeong through her orgasm. She shivered and shook for quite some time. The sight was something I’d remember forever.

“Stop!” Minjeong cried. “I can’t take anymore.”

I pulled out slowly and she sighed. I turned toward mom and she bit her lip. She saw my expression and saw the look in my eye. She looked frightened despite her excitement.

“Now,” she started. “Leave me alone, you’ve already had Minjeong.”

“Come here.” I demanded.

“No!” she cried and tried to get off the bed. I grabbed her and pulled her back on. Mom rolled onto her stomach, but her hips were raised high and I could see her excitement in her swollen lips and pink gasp. My tongue was drenched in her juices a moment later.

“Wow?” Minjeong said, shaking her head. “Mom, you’re a bigger slut than I am.”

“I am not!” mom cried and tried to get away. I’d barely tasted her, but she was ready. I forced my mother back onto the bed and pushed into her from behind. The sound of her ass made when my hips slapped into it was louder, more enticing.

“Mom, be ready for the ride of your life.” Minjeong said, shaking her head.

“I am…” mom gasped.

“So, you want me to do this?” I teased.

“No…” mom cried right away. “Get off me!”

“You first!” I grunted.

“Very funny,” Minjeong said, rolling her eyes at my bad joke. I could care less. I’d just fucked her and now it was mom turn.

“Minho, this is so wrong!” mom cried as she met my thrusts.

“It really is,” Minjeong said, smiling. “But you love every second of it and you know it! You love how his cock feels stroking in and out of you. You love the thought of him cumming deep inside you!”

“No!” mom cried, but then she locked up in orgasm. She shivered and shook under me for a long time.

“We can’t keep doing that,” mom sighed as she came down from her orgasm.

“Sure you can,” Minjeong grinned. “After all, he marked you as his that first night. I can still see the bruise.”

“Only until it fades,” mom shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever.”

“True,” Minjeong said, standing up. “And I don’t think it’s fair that he marked you as just his. I like to think of you as mine also.”

“I’m willing to share mom with you,” I said, standing as well. “I’m willing to share all the incestuous sluts in my life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Minjeong asked. I pulled her toward me and kissed her. Minjeong responded with just as much passion.

“That I want you to be my slut too,” I growled.

“I’m not marked,” she shrugs.

I shifted her around until I was behind her. I had one hand around her breast, pulling her back into me. My cock was lodged between her ass cheeks. I used the other hand to lift her hair off her neck. Minjeong’s head fell forward and I sucked on her neck.

“Yes…” she gasped. “Make me yours.”

I left a hickey on the back of her neck, just like mom’s. I also shoved her against the nearest wall and started fucking her again. Minjeong moaned with every thrust.

“Cum in me please…” she cried when her next orgasm was about to take her.

“Yess…” I growled and flooded her pussy with my cum.

“Ohh…” Minjeong cried as her orgasm exploded. “It feels so… good!” We both ended up against the wall panting and trying to hold ourselves up.

“You two better sit down before you fall,” mom said. She was watching us from the bed. I was pretty sure she’d been playing with herself as well, but she stopped after we came. I helped Minjeong to mom’s bed. We both all but fell in it.

“Mom,” Minjeong said. “Kiss me please. I want you to be part of how I feel.”

“Of course,” mom said.

“You know,” I said. “You two could do more than just kiss.”

“We’re not lesbians!” mom said.

“Mom,” I smiled. “Lesbian or not, you love her, it’s just a kiss.” I said.

“Or at least let me take it,” Minjeong smiled.

“Possibly,” mom admitted with a slow smile of her own.

“And one day I might,” Minjeong said, surprising us both. “But not today. I’m not ready.”

“No rush,” I smiled. “Why don’t we just spend the day in bed?”

“No,” mom said, sounding serious. “I have some stuff to get done.”

“And I have to talk to Changho,” Minjeong put in. “It’s bad enough you two have made me a slut, but I don’t want to be a cheating slut.”

“Oh Minjeong,” our mother said. “Must you talk like that?”

“Sorry mom,” Minjeong smiled. “I’ll hide what I am from the real world like you want me to. Besides, I’m really only my brother slut anyway.”

“What about mine?” mom asked.

“Nope,” Minjeong laughed. “You don’t want a slut. You want to be a slut.”

“I do not!” mom cried.

“Sure you do,” I put in.

“Until your mark disappears,” mom agreed.

“You know mom,” Minjeong said thoughtfully. “I think if I ever do take things further between you and me, I’ll need to mark you as mine too.”

“It only seems fair,” I grinned.

“Hey, you both know this can’t go on forever, right?” mom started.

“Sure,” I said.

“Of course,” Minjeong added.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun while it lasts,” I added.

“Agreed,” Minjeong said, exchanging a look with me. We both obviously had the same thought. “I guess I can wait a little longer to tell Changho.”

“Don’t even think about it.” mom cried. Minjeong and I both moved toward her. Mom’s eyes flashed as she tried to get away and she protested loudly when we caught her. The only thing louder was a moan a moment later.

—

“Looking good!” I said as Minjeong walked by my room in nothing but a towel.

“Thanks,” she smiled, pausing at the door. She was blond and beautiful.

“Are you in a rush?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Yes, so don’t even think about it.” she snapped, not buying it for a moment. She knew what I wanted. I grinned and shrugged. Minjeong smiled at my reaction, shook her head and then added, “Truthfully, I wish I did have the time, but it’s my week to oversee the early morning workouts in the weight room.”

“What a life,” I teased.

“Tell me about it,” she sighed.

“Please…” I snorted. “You love your job.”

“It’s okay,” she replied.

“Come on,” I teased. “How does it feel to know that you’re every teenage boy’s fantasy?”

“What?” she asked.

“Minjeong, you teach in high school,” I explained. “Not only that, you are beautiful. You’re the hot gym teacher every boy thinks about late at night.”

“Oh joy,” Minjeong said sarcastically. “That’s a picture I could do without.” I couldn’t help it but laughed.

“You love it though.” I teased. She shook her head again and didn’t bother arguing.

“Minho, make sure to wake mom up on time,” she said, changing the subject. “She’s got her third interview today.”

“I know,” I smiled. “Did you see how nervous she was last night?”

“She has a right to be,” Minjeong replied. “This job is perfect for her.”

“She deserves it,” I smiled. “I can’t believe how quickly it’s moving.”

“It was pretty cool when she got a call from her old company’s biggest competitor the morning after she quit,” Minjeong said.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “She’ll do fine.”

“Fine?” Minjeong frowned. “She’ll do great!”

“True,” I laughed. “I just wish she didn’t have to fly across the country and spend days at their corporate office.”

“Oh, don’t worry” Minjeong smiled. “Mom will be home before you know it. Besides, I’m still here. I’ll take care of you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I laugh. “You can’t cook and your cleaning leaves something to be desired.”

“Jerk.” Minjeong laughed.

“On the other hand, there are some things you do very well,” I said, smiling slowly.

“Not if you keep being so mean to me,” Minjeong said pointedly and moved past my doorway.

I smiled contently. It was only two weeks since mom quit her job and everything changed so drastically at home. We were all happier now. I wasn’t sure it could last and mom kept bringing up the fact that it couldn’t, but right now I was enjoying myself immensely.

I heard Minjeong leave the bathroom and go into her bedroom. She was done there surprisingly fast. She was one of those morning people. Ugh!

“I’m leaving,” she said as she stopped by my doorway on the way out. “Go wake mom up.”

“What I have to do it?” I asked, far too comfortably to move.

“Mom needs something to help relieve her anxiety about the interview and you’re it.”

“Are you crazy?” I laughed. “She’ll be wired! If I try and go near her...”

“That’s the point,” she interjected. “Do what you always do and don’t give her a choice. She’ll thank you afterward.”

“You could do it,” I offered hopefully.

“No, I can’t,” Minjeong said.

I sighed, reading her expression. “I get it.”

“The thought of mom and me together must really turn you on,” Minjeong said, looking at me thoughtfully. “You bring it up all the time.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Let me think? My mother and sister in bed together. Two beautiful women driving each other crazy. You bet.”

“Pervert!” Minjeong laughed.

“Takes one to know one,” I called as she disappeared down the hall. I heard her leave a few minutes later. “I guess I should wake mom.”

The trip to her room was short. I didn’t bother putting any clothes on. I opened the door and saw mom sleeping in her bed. The sight made me smile.

Instead of shaking her awake, I climbed into bed next to her and pulled her into my arms. She didn’t wake up at first. She snuggled closer instead. I hugged her tight and then kissed her gently.

“Now that’s the way to wake up,” she moaned, returning my kiss.

“Only the beginning of it,” I replied, giving her another kiss before slipping under the covers.

“Minho, what are you doing?” she asked groggily. I ignored the question.

The answer was obvious.

She slept in the nude these days as well. We all did. Frequently we ended up together on the weekends, but most weekdays we slept in our own beds because otherwise we’d all be too exhausted the next day.

“Hey stop!” she gasped when I buried my face between her legs. “I have to get ready. I don’t have the time.”

“Sure you do,” I disagreed, running my tongue up and down the length of her pussy.

“We shouldn’t.” she moaned, spreading her legs and giving me better access.

She tasted just as amazing as always. She had plenty of time before she needed to leave for her flight and I planned on making it memorable. It wasn’t long before my tongue was working her clit just the way I knew she liked it.

“Oh…” she moaned as her orgasm neared. “You’re tongue is so…” I thrust a finger inside of her in response.

“Cum for me.” I demanded.

“Nghhnooo…” she cried, fighting the inevitable. A few moments later her orgasm took her. I licked and sucked until she was done.

She was smiling contently as I moved from under the covers to lie next to her. My lips were still damp with her juices, but she didn’t hesitate in kissing me. She was obviously ready for more despite her orgasm.

Her hand found my cock and she stroked it, not that I needed the stimulation. I was already hard. On the other hand, it did feel really good. I enjoyed what she was doing for a few moments before pulling her on top of me.

She gasps of surprise quickly turned into a moan when I took her hips in both hands and shifted her body until my cock was lined up with her pussy. She was still soaked. I pushed my cock up into her.

“Oh… this is new.” she cried, obviously enjoying the position as I held her hips steady and thrust into her a few times.

“It’s because you like to play hard to get,” I laughed. “I usually have to chase you and hold you down.” I thought she was going to pull off of me.

“You’ve corrupted me…” she whispered lustfully as she started slowly moving up and down.

“So you like having sex with me now?” I teased.

“I’ve always liked it,” she answered in that same lust filled tone. “It’s just so wrong!” I reached up and cupped her breasts.

“But that’s the part you love best, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes…” she admitted, squeezing down on my cock. “And that’s why I keep saying we have to stop. Minho, the last couple of weeks with you and your sister were completely wrong in so many ways, but the truth is that I’ve never been happier. I love you two with all my heart and the pleasure we share, sick and twisted as it is, is more than I could ever have hoped for, but it can’t last forever.”

“I don’t want to talk about that now,” I groaned. “Instead, why don’t you tell me how it feels to ride my cock?” She looked down at me and bit her bottom lip.

She looked ready to continue her argument. I thrust up into her with more strength and pinched both of her nipples gently. She gasped. I could feel her giving in slowly.

“Incredible.” she finally moaned, picking up the pace. She was now bouncing on my cock slowly.

“Focus on that and nothing else.” I demanded.

“Nghhh.” she gasped; her argument forgotten. “Your cock is so big. It fills my insides completely.”

I reached up and pulled her toward me. I kissed her passionately and then shifted her just enough for me to kiss her full tits.

“You like my breasts?” she asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear me say it.

“They’re perfect.”

She smiled and leaned forward, propping herself up with her arms and dangling them in my face. She swayed slowly, teasing me. I enjoyed it for a few moments, but could only take so much of that.

I knocked her arms out of the way and buried my face between her breasts as her torso fell on me. I held onto her hips tighter and started thrusting up into her with short fierce strokes.

“Yes!” she cried as our bodies slapped against each other. It didn’t take long for her orgasm to build. I rolled us around until I was on top and continued stroking in and out of her, only now my thrusts were much longer and deeper. Her nails racked across my back.

“Try not to draw blood this time,” I groaned.

“It’s not like I do it on purpose.” she gasped.

I grabbed her hands and held them above her head, against the bed. She looked up at me and smiled. Her expression was one of lust. I took her beauty in and shook my head.

I held her like that while I thrust in and out of her over and over again, getting faster as time went by. I watched her expression as her orgasm threatened. There was nothing more beautiful to me then the passion that filled her eyes at the moment of release.

“Tell me.” I whispered, close to losing it. “Tell me what you want.”

“Don’t make me say it…” she cried. I stopped stroking for a moment. “No, don’t stop!”

“Then tell me.” I demanded. She gave in quickly.

“I want to feel your big cock buried inside of me!” she cried. “I want you to hold me down and fill me with your cum!” I thrust deep into her pussy.

“Hmm yess…” I grunted and came. She was right behind me. We shivered and shook through our mutual orgasm for quite some time.

“Thanks,” she said with a sigh afterward. “I needed that.”

“Minjeong thought you would,” I grinned, rolling off of her.

“Smart girl,” she smiled. And add, “But what we’re doing is almost over.”

“Over?” I asked in surprised concern.

“You said until the mark you gave me disappeared… It’s almost gone.” She lifted her hair to show me her neck. The hickey was still there, but it was fading. The sight of it stunned me. She walked into her bathroom before I could say anything.

I heard the water turn on as I lay there. I sat and thought for a few minutes.

-

“Minho?” mom groan as I walked in on her. “What are you doing in here?”

I didn’t bother responding. I simply walked into the shower, spun her around and pushed her against the wall. I pulled her hair into a ponytail and moved it out of the way.

“No!” she cried when she realized what I was doing, but by that time it was too late. My lips were latched onto the back of her neck. She fought, but I held her tight as I kissed and sucked on her neck until the hickey was bright once more. I let her go then and she turned to face me.

“I don’t want this to end,” I said. “Not yet.”

“But...”

“I won’t let it end!” I interjected more strongly. “You’re mine until my mark fades. That was the deal.”

“You cheated,” she said, shaking her head.

“So?” I shrugged, pulled her body against mine and kissing her hungrily.

“Minho!” Shhe moaned. “You shouldn’t have this kind of an effect on me!”

“You’re mine.” I said.

“For as long as the mark lasts,” she said between kisses. “That was the deal.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” I smiled.

“Get out,” she said as she shook her head and laughed. “I really do need to be going soon.”

“You’d leave me like this?” I asked, motioning toward my hardening cock. “Excited and alone? What kind of mom are you?”

“The worst kind,” she said, but then dropped to her knees and took my cock into her mouth.

“You mean the best?” I groaned, taking her head with both hands and stroking my cock between her lips.

She locked eyes with me as I fucked her mouth. She never once looked away. It didn’t take long for me to cum. The sight of her watching me and swallowing as I spurted rope after rope of cum down her throat only made my orgasm last longer.

“Can I return the favor?” I asked, leaning against the shower wall to hold myself up. She started to stand and I reached out one hand and helped.

“When I get back,” she smiled. “We really don’t have the time. If I don’t get going right now, I’ll miss my flight.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I promised.

“I know,” she said, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry,” I added with a grin.

“You my son, have a one-track mind,” mom sighed.

“I wonder where I get it from.” I joked.

“Not me.” she laugh. “I’m a good girl.”

“Sure you are,” I agreed easily, slapping her ass playfully and laughing as I left the shower.

“Hmm,” she sigh sternly. “You and I have to talk about the correct way to treat a lady.”

“I’m willing to listen,” I replied as I dried myself. “But I’m reasonably certain you’ll miss your plane if you try and explain it right now.” She shook her head.

“Another time,” she said, fighting off a smile.

“I can’t wait,” I grinned.

She made it out of the house in plenty of time. The car the company sent to take her to the airport was only waiting a few minutes before she was ready.

“Good luck,” I said as I put her bags in the trunk. “Not that you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” she said, getting into the car.

I waved and smiled as she drove away. I had just enough time to get a couple more hours of sleep before I had to get up and ready for class. I needed it. Mom had a way of completely exhausting me, and the thought of what might happen this weekend with Minjeong made me smile with anticipation.

[notlongtolove]

the cup holds the tea

it hits you all at once and you’re out of the booth in a flash, spencer right behind you. you’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto spencer’s shoes. the world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: bau!reader has too much to drink and its up to bf!spencer to get her home. and brief mentions of puke... oh reader...

word count: 3k

note: well personally i don't know if i could ever love someone enough where i would lay on my bed in my 'outside clothes' but good on you spence! once i slipped and fell in someone's puke and cried all the way home.

a line: They’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this? This is something else entirely.

It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare, How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes Or toes. How soles of feet know Where they’re supposed to be. - pat schneider

The room hangs on your words, the perfect moment of suspense stretched like a tightrope. You let it linger, savoring the pause.

“And they ate every last drop of it!”

The punchline lands, and laughter spills out around the table, loud and easy. You beam. Spencer watches you, his gaze warm, almost reverent. He’s always known you had this gift—how you could spin a story, command a room. If he weren’t so completely in love with you, he might’ve envied it. No amount of books or degrees could teach him your knack for recounting stories with such flair, or your ability to whip up comebacks at speeds that leave even Derek speechless.

Spencer’s lucky, and he knows it. His eyes trace the curve of your smile as you sip from your glass, your third—or fourth? He’s lost count. He notices you’re not wincing at its taste anymore and well, you know what they say when the drinks start to taste like water. The fact that you’re tearing up at something Garcia’s showing you—a sloth video, from what he can tell, doesn’t ease his worries in the slightest either. He's not entirely sure what Emily has been ordering for the table but whatever it is, it’s clearly doing its job.

It’s one of those rare nights out, the kind where the team sets work aside and pretends, for a few hours, that the weight of the world isn’t on their shoulders. Rossi had insisted, his treat he said, but Spencer suspects it was just an excuse for the team to watch you two loosen up, to let your guard down. A carefully orchestrated opportunity for the team to see something they hardly ever got to see. They’ve seen you two in the field, sharp and focused, in sync like clockwork. But tonight it's the way you lean into Spencer’s side without realizing it, the way Spencer gently moves your glass out of harm’s way when you gesture too wildly. This is a glimpse of something sacred, something rare.

It’d only been about a month since you and Spencer had made it official. Everyone saw it coming long before you did, but that didn’t stop the teasing once the news broke. They could barely pick their jaws up from off the floor even tonight when Spencer had his hand resting lightly on your waist, steadying you through the crowd as you laughed yourself breathless, stumbling. At work, you both keep it professional, steering clear of anything that might make Hotch raise an eyebrow. But the dim light of the bar is ever so tempting. The bar is full of loud laughter and clinking glasses and you just can’t help but take Spencer's hand into yours, fingers laced without hesitation. 

Spencer catches the way Derek’s eyes light up at the sight, the subtle nudge he gives Emily. He knows they’re going to bring this up later, probably all week.

But he doesn’t move his hand. He doesn’t let go.

The booth is packed tight as you’re all wedged together, shoulders brushing. Everyone’s smiling, unwinding in a way you rarely allow yourselves to, laughter bouncing in overlapping bursts. Spencer sits nursing his water, content to observe. His eyes are drawn back to you over and over, catching on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh and the animated gestures you make as you speak.

“C’mon, pretty boy, live a little,” Derek teases, “Just one drink.”

Spencer gives a sheepish smile, waving it off. “I’m fine,” he says, eyes flicking over to you once more.

He can’t keep his eyes off you tonight, it seems. You’re laughing, and It’s unmistakable, the adoration in his gaze, something so un-Spencer-like that makes Derek smile.

He knows Spencer’s not one to drink. You, on the other hand, seem a little too eager, maybe encouraged by Emily’s coaxing, and you’re already on your next drink, cheeks bright and eyes sparkling. You lean into Garcia’s cheers, your glass lifted high. Your laughter is bright and unrestrained, pulling everyone else along with it.

Spencer considers saying something when you're giggling a little more than usual, laughing too hard at a joke that doesn't warrant it. But he knows how you’d take it. You’d wave him off with that familiar insistence, the same as always. It wasn't like you couldn't hold your own, Spencer knows that. You’d held your own at Rossi’s birthday last year just fine, outlasting nearly everyone—everyone except Rossi of course. And that’s probably why he’d already taken his leave tonight, not wanting to get caught in the tail end of whatever chaos this night will inevitably bring.

But that was then and now— Well, it’s different now. Now, the role of boyfriend sits heavier on his shoulders, a title he’s all too happy to hold. And tonight, it’s a card he’s all too happy to play. It gives him leverage, an edge that makes him feel like he has a little more room to step in without you pulling the I don’t need anyone to take care of me speech. 

Spencer sees his opening as lean back into his side a little too comfortably. “Here,” he murmurs, pressing his glass into your hand. “Drink this.”

He hopes you’re just tipsy enough not to ask too many questions, as long as it’s something from the bar. For a moment, it seems like it works—you sit up, eyeing the glass cautiously, then take it from him with slow deliberation.

Almost there, he thinks.

You peer into the glass, squinting at the clear liquid, then give it a small sniff. Spencer’s heart sinks as your expression shifts.

“This is water,” you say, suspiciously.

“Yes, it is,” he admits.

Your brow furrows, the faintest pout tugging at your lips. “I’m drinking vodka.”

“And now you’re drinking water.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, and I’d rather not carry you out of here tonight,” he says softly, the faintest flush colouring his cheeks.

You look up at him, unimpressed, but he stays firm. “Just drink the water, sweetheart,” he says quietly, his voice barely cutting through the noise.

He braces himself for your resistance. Instead, you huff, give him a pointed glare, and drink it. He watches as you sip, your nose scrunching at the lack of a bite. Spencer lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

The night winds on, the team louder than usual, swept up in Derek’s overly dramatic retelling of the prank war that once took over the bullpen. But you’re quieter, Spencer notices, the drinks maybe finally settling in a little too fast. Your smile slower, your laughter softer, head resting on his shoulder now and again. 

And then, suddenly, you’re not looking so well. It hits you all at once. The queasy welling in your stomach, the cold sweat prickling your skin. You’re out of the booth in a flash, Spencer right behind you as you stumble toward the door, your hand clamped over your mouth. 

You’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto Spencer’s shoes. The world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

Of all people it had to be Spencer—germ-conscious, always-prepared Spencer—your lovely boyfriend who at this moment you’re not sure you can ever look in the eyes again Spencer. 

You don’t have to look up to see the team’s reaction as they round the corner, wide-eyed as they process what just happened. Derek’s mouth falls open in disbelief, Emily stares in shock, and Garcia whispers a dramatic, “Oh, no…”

They’re frozen. Because Spencer—Spencer, who uses hand sanitizer like it’s an extension of his arm, Spencer who’s the first to scrunch his nose at anything remotely messy—has just had his shoes christened in the worst way. You know they’re waiting for Spencer’s reaction, the tense recoil, the carefully contained grimace.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, Spencer pauses, takes a measured breath, and steps closer to you, his hands steady on your shoulders. “Hey,” he asks, voice low and soothing as he crouches to meet your gaze. “Sweetheart, you okay?” He brushes your hair away from your face, his touch careful and kind.

“Spence—” you mumble, your voice cracking with embarrassment. Your hands fly to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. Your shoes—oh my God, your shoes—”

Spencer shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping as he crouches to steady you. His voice is impossibly gentle, calm in a way that eases the edges of your shame. “It’s fine. They’re just shoes,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “Let’s get you home, okay?” 

You nod, eyes shut, clearly mortified but he doesn’t let you dwell on it. He takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. For a brief moment, Spencer contemplates asking the bartender for a glass of water to rinse off the mess, but he glances at you—your slightly swaying frame, the way your head droops just a little—and decides against it.

Getting you home safely takes precedence over everything else. Shoes can wait. You can’t.

Emily’s mouth falls open slightly as she watches, “Did Reid just…?” she murmurs, half to herself, as Derek gapes beside her. “Didn’t think the kid had it in him,” Derek says, shaking his head, a grin slowly spreading. Garcia sniffs, dramatically dabbing at her eyes. “I knew he loved her, but this? This is another level.” she says letting out a dreamy sigh. 

They linger, watching as Spencer guides you steadily toward the car with careful patience. He helps you in, crouching to fasten your seatbelt. You’re still mumbling apologies, your voice thick with embarrassment, but Spencer doesn’t falter. Instead, he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders even as the mess on his shoes remains. There’s not even a hint of disgust on his face—if anything, he’s focused, caring, murmuring words of reassurance as he tucks his jacket around you. His hand lingers on yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a silent promise that nothing about this has shaken him. 

“I’m so sorry, Spence,” you whisper again, your voice small and heavy with guilt. “I ruined your shoes. And your jacket. And—”

“It’s fine. You’re fine. Besides, I was planning to throw them out anyway.”

You shake your head weakly, your tone petulant even through your embarrassment. “Nooo, don’t throw them out because of me.”

His lips twitch, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, what do you suggest I do with them, angel?”

“I’ll wash them,” you declare, your words slow and sleepy.

Spencer raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “You’ll wash them?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur, already halfway to drifting off against the seat.

“How about we get you home first and then worry about the shoes, okay?” he says gently.

“’Kay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as sleep begins to take hold.

Spencer stands, glancing back at the bar where the team is gathered. They’re not even pretending to hide their stares anymore, and he knows he’s going to hear about this for weeks. He raises a hand in a small, sheepish wave before climbing into the driver’s seat.

Derek shakes his head, laughing softly. “He’s gone,” he says, his voice carrying just enough awe to balance the humor. “Kid’s completely gone.”

Emily doesn’t need to ask what he means. Neither does Garcia. Because they’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this?

This is something else entirely.

The ride home is quiet, save for the occasional slurred apology from you. Spencer reassures you with the same soft patience each time, his hand steady on the wheel and his gaze flickering to you every so often, checking to make sure you’re okay. By the time he gets you home, your protests have faded, replaced by the heavy pull of exhaustion.

His arm remains firm around your waist, steadying you as he helps you inside, careful and methodical in the way he moves. He guides you to the bathroom, where you try to freshen up, fumbling with the faucet and splashing water on your face. Spencer steps in without hesitation and takes over when your movements falter. His touch is featherlight, but there’s no mistaking the care in every movement. The closeness makes your cheeks flush, though whether it’s from lingering embarrassment or something else entirely, you’re too tired to decipher.

“You don’t have to,” you murmur, your words sluggish but sincere.

“Of course I do,” he replies, his voice light but firm. “I want to.” 

He guides you to the bedroom with careful steps, his hand steady on the small of your back. Once there, he sets a glass of water on the nightstand, the gentle clink breaking the quiet.

“Drink,” he coaxes softly, his tone patient but firm.

You take the glass without protest, sipping obediently. Spencer watches, a small smile tugging at his lips. He considers making a playful comment about how quickly you’re drinking it now—so much easier than earlier—but he decides against it.

You’ve been through enough tonight, he thinks.

When he finally tucks you into bed, you’re too tired to resist. You mumble something incoherent, your hand brushing his as he leans in. Spencer pauses, his gaze lingering on your face—peaceful now, the traces of the evening’s mishaps melting away. He presses a light kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Spencer steps out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear you if you call out. He lingers in the hallway for a moment, his shoulders sagging slightly now that the night’s adrenaline has begun to wane. He glances down at his shoes—still damp and stained. With a resigned sigh, he makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag. He slips the shoes inside, tying the bag tightly before heading outside. The cold air bites at his skin as he steps toward the dumpster behind his building.

He stands there for a moment, holding the bag. The sight of the shoes, oddly enough, makes him smile. It’s ridiculous, he knows. They’re just shoes. Ruined, stained, completely unsalvageable. But they’re also a reminder of tonight—a reminder of how he’d taken care of you, how you’d let him take care of you. 

With a soft thud, the bag lands in the dumpster. Spencer dusts off his hands, turning back toward the building. When Spencer steps back into his apartment, the soft hum of the heater greets him, a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting inside. And there you are, standing in his shirt in the doorway of his bedroom. Spencer thinks it's a sight he'll never get tired of.

There's a pout tugging at your lips. “Where’d you go?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep and just a hint of a whine.

“Had to throw out the shoes angel,” he says as he steps into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Your gasp is exaggerated like he’s just committed an unspeakable betrayal. “I thought I told you I’d wash them!” you exclaim, your voice rising. 

“And I thought I tucked you into bed,” Spencer counters, his laugh soft and full of affection. “Why are you out of bed sweetheart?”

You shuffle closer, blinking up at him with drowsy eyes. “Missed you,” you say simply, your earlier outrage regarding the shoes already forgotten. “Wanna cuddle.”

Spencer’s expression softens, but he gestures to his clothes. “I’m dirty,” he reminds you gently, “Outside clothes, remember?”

“Change then,” you reply stubbornly, tugging at his sleeve as though that’s the simplest solution in the world.

“I need to shower first,” he says, his voice patient as he begins to guide you back toward the bedroom.

“I didn’t shower either,” you argue, leaning heavily into his side as though that somehow strengthens your case.

“Because you’re drunk,” he replies with a small smile.

“Am not,” you insist, though your tone is far from convincing.

“Wanna tell that to my shoes?” Spencer teases, raising a brow.

You ignore him, brushing past his comment with a huff. “You’ll take too long,” you complain, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you too,” he replies, his voice tinged with amusement as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then cuddle,” you plead, your tone slipping into that sing-song quality you know he can’t resist. “Pleaseee”

Spencer hesitates, the logical part of him warring with the sight of you—soft, vulnerable, and looking at him like he hung the stars. He knows you’re usually the enforcer of the outside-clothes rule, a stickler for order when sober. But right now, you’re anything but sober, and he can’t find it in himself to deny you.

“Pleaseee,” you say again, drawing out the word for emphasis, “I’ll buy you new shoes,” your eyes wide and imploring.

He knows you probably will.

“Enough about the shoes,” Spencer rolls his eyes fighting back a smirk, “Just help me change the sheets tomorrow,” he relents, his voice warm with affection.

He knows you probably won’t. But he lets you drag him toward the bed anyways.

You beam, looping your arms around his waist in triumph. “Knew you wouldn’t say no,” you mumble into his chest.

Spencer laughs softly as you settle against him, burying your face in his chest with a soft, muffled sigh. He feels his heart swell in a way he can’t quite put into words. He’s never been one for mess—for dirt, grime, or anything out of place. Heck, he hadn't even wanted to shake your hand the first time he met you. It’s in his nature to keep things neat, orderly, clean. But now, with you?

His shoes could be ruined, his clothes crumpled, and the night an absolute whirlwind. And still, all he can think about is how peaceful you look now, your eyelids fluttering shut as sleep starts to claim you.

Spencer presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles along your back.

For you and only you, he thinks, he’d make an exception every time.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

[not-rigel]

Admit Defeat

warnings: smut, facesitting, fingering, bottom! sevika (if you squint), lots of flirting, y'all are in love, sub! sevika (if you squint), yearning, lesbians being lesbians

work count: 4k

You don't remember who made the first move. You don't know what you had done to get Sevika to return your feelings. At some point, the two of you switched from only speaking in work-appropriate conversations to constantly flirting. The switch was far from gradual, a near overnight shift in dynamic. For weeks,  Sevika has been laying the charm on thick and you've been returning the banter. 

Tonight was no different. The two of you inside the near empty Last Drop, chatting over a game of billiards. Billiards isn't yours or Sevika's typical game but watching her bend over the table was too tempting a sight to pass up. 

“I ever tell you about the time I almost bled out?” Sevika says, chalking up her cue. 

“Just one time? That's a little boring, Sevika,” you tease. 

“I'd have to be stabbed to be bleeding, and you know how often that happens.” 

The answer was seldom. Sevika got into plenty of fights, but most ended with her mechanical claws in her opponent's gut. Never the other way around.  

“Go on. Tell me,” you urge. She finishes chalking her cue and sets it down on the edge of the table. Your eyes follow her as she walks around the table, searching for her shot. She studies the eleven ball, considering the difficulty. 

“Eleven, back left pocket,” she calls. She bends down to line up the shot. But instead of taking it, she begins her story. 

“I was at the harbor, the smaller one, on personal business-” 

“You were gambling,” you interrupted, leaning your weight to rest your hip onto the table. You watch Sevika's eyes follow your movement. 

Sevika shakes her head, “It was for personal business. Needed new plating for my arm, one that can withstand higher temperatures. I heard from a trusted source-” 

“At the brothel,” you interrupted again. She still hasn't taken the shot. Still bent over the table, cue lined to hit but her arm hasn't drawn back yet. 

Sevika laughs at your correction, “I heard at the brothel that someone was looking to trade down at the harbor. I went down there with an alright gun. Wanted to be rid of it anyway. I get there looking for the guy and I find he's got four other people with him, fucking bruisers by the looks of it.” 

Sevika takes a break in her story to finally take her shot, the eleven ball gliding across the felt and into the pocket she called prior. She stands, walking over to where you're leaning against the table. She smirks as she draws closer to you, stopping just close enough for you to feel her body heat. You look up at her, gaze dropping to her lips for a moment before moving back up to her eyes. 

“It's your turn again,” you tell her. You tilt your head toward the table, not breaking eye contact. 

“You're standing in front of my shot.” 

“My bad,” you playfully shrug, taking a large enough step back. Sevika immediately fills the space, stepping even closer to you than she was before. Another centimeter and your chests would be touching. 

Up this close, you'd have to crane your neck to make eye contact. But since you can't find it in you to look away from her lips, you don't have to look as far up.  Her tongue creeps from her parted lips and wets her bottom lip, surely to tease you. 

“As I was saying,” Sevika continues, aware you're watching each word, “I don't pay attention to the other guys, figured if I didn't treat them like a threat they weren't gonna fuck with me. And it worked for the most part. I get through the trade with my guy, no issues. I'm thinking it's over so I shake his hand, close the deal and wait for him and his goons to leave, cause I'm not gonna turn my back on them.” 

You nod, trying to follow along with her story but your attention is divided between how her lips quirk up into a smirk every other sentence. You loved this side of Sevika, the side that can't stop talking. The side that loves sharing her time with other people. The side that is heartfelt and open. 

“You still listening?” She says, pulling your thoughts away from her mouth and secret softness.

“Just skip to the good part,” you huff. You're not impatient and you could listen, and watch, her talk for hours. But the attraction between the two of you was a few degrees warmer tonight. You can't afford to overheat, especially since you work together. 

“Right. The good part. They think I'm looking for a fight so they jump me. I handled them fine enough, taking a few punches. Was focused on keeping them off of me. One of ‘em came charging at me with a knife, no fucking clue where he got it from, and aims right at my ribs. I wasn't really thinking, I just pushed his arm down. Fucking slashed my thigh open,” she continued. She bent over the table again and this time you could see her back muscles ripple underneath her shirt. 

You shift your hips slightly, so they brush against her side. 

“Can I see?” You ask. 

She stood up without taking her shot, taking a step to trap you between herself and the table, “I'd have to take off my pants.” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

She chuckles, “Thought you'd let me kiss you before trying to get me undressed.” 

This was the moment one of you would usually chicken out, coughing up a practiced excuse. But tonight was different. Seizing a confidence you've never held in your life before, you close the little distance there is between you. 

“Kiss me, then take your pants off.”

“Thank fuck,” she sighs. 

She reaches her right hand out, cupping your cheek and guides you to her mouth. There is a moment of hesitation from her, when your lips are a hair away. A chance for you to withdraw. But you won't take it. You push up on your tiptoes, smashing your lips into hers. 

Sevika hasn't felt genuine attraction like this in years. Her body feels like it moves on its own accord. Doing the opposite of what she usually does in situations like these. Fingers tracing over skin instead gripping. Tongue feeling the softness of your lips instead of claiming. Heart beating wildly out of her chest instead of being steady. 

Her chemtech arm holds you by your waist. Between her hips pressing into yours, the table behind you and her arm holding you up, you still feel like you'll melt right to the floor. 

Needing more purchase, you wrap your arms around her neck. Her hair tickles your fingertips and you need to feel more of the soft strands. When you tangle your fingers into her hair she shudders, her knees go weak and weight shifts to rest on you.

You take the time to kiss down her neck, feeling her breaths catch in her throat. Feeling her skin vibrate with her moans. When your lips press onto her pulse point you can feel her erratic heartbeat. It almost overwhelms you, how much she softens for you. 

You're surprised when she guides your hands from her hair down to her breast. Without any hesitation, you fondle her breasts, thumbs rubbing over where you know her nipples are. She's letting out moans above you, the sounds deep and throaty. 

She gasps out a ‘wait’ and you pull your hands and face away.  After she catches her breath she asks if you want to go back to her place.

She's staring deep into your eyes and you regret having looked at her mouth so much tonight. She has the prettiest eyes you've even seen, the most enchanting shade of gray you've ever seen. Like a thundercloud full of heavy rain, her eyes always held back a rough storm. Usually she's unreadable, but right now you know exactly what she wants. 

“Mine is probably closer,” you offer. 

At that Sevika nods, muttering out a soft “Take me.” 

You grab her hand and lead her out the Last Drop and in the direction of your apartment. It's far closer than Sevika's, hardly a five minute walk. Three minutes if you were really in a rush. You make it home in two and a half. 

It's a simple studio apartment, small but well within your needs. 

Once you step inside, she grabs you from underneath your ass, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around her torso. Your hands find their way into her hair, fingers dancing on her scalp. You needed her weak for you, and she was falling apart at the seams the more you touched her. She carries you over to the bed, hiding in the corner of your apartment. She sits down on your bed with you sitting on her lap.

Her hands grab at your shirt, shoving the offending fabric over your breasts until you break the kiss to pull your top over your head. You return to the kiss the moment your shirt is discarded behind you, pushing Sevika down into the mattress. She gasps into your mouth as her back thuds against the bed. 

Her hands are flat against your lower back, inching downwards to slip her fingertips beneath the band of your pants. Sevika guides your hips to grind over hers. You rut your hips into her, no rhythm or pace set. 

"You've got such a pretty face," you tell her. "You wouldn't want me to sit on it, would you?" It's something you've been waiting to experience, waiting for the right person. If there was anyone you wanted it with, without hesitation, it's Sevika. 

"I've been waiting for you to say that for so fucking long," Sevika laughs. You laugh with her, finding humor is how long you've spent dancing around each other. 

You roll off of her lap onto your back to shimmy off your pants and underwear. Within seconds, Sevika is sitting up to help you out of your clothes. You lift your hips and she pulls your pants and underwear down on one try. 

Seeing you near fully naked, Sevika admires your body. Every curve is in its perfect place. Every scar is like fine details painted into your skin. Each blemish makes you more and more of a masterpiece. She always thought you were breathtaking but the word felt much more literal now. Breathing was wasted energy, anything other than pouring her full attention into admiring you was useless to her. 

“Sevika… you're staring,” you said under your breath. 

“I- I'm going to die tonight,” she sighs, leaning down to press kisses to your shoulder. She kisses your shoulder until she's grounded herself, no longer lost in passion boiling over in her head. 

“I need you on my face. Now,” she says against your shoulder. 

“Patience.” 

“Fuck that. I need you. I can't wait anymore.” 

She grabs your hips, flipping you over to straddle her waist. She unclasps your bra, pulling the straps off your shoulders. 

“You're still dressed,” you gasped, trying to find an excuse to slow her down. 

“We'll get to that later. Sit on my fucking face.” She grabs at your hips trying to pull you up and shimmy herself down. You admit defeat when she pouts. 

You crawl up her body and place one knee to the left side of her head before swinging the other over her head. You don't sit down on her face yet, shifting your hips back to hover over her shoulders. 

“Fuck, please sit on my face. I can't wait.” her hands grab your thighs, metal and flesh fingers alike digging into you.  

You're ready to give yourself to her, but you're stopped by the look in her eyes. This time she's the one to take your breath away. 

You reach down and stroke her cheek, “You're so pretty.” 

Her hands loosen their grip on your hips, thumbs stroking your skin.

“You're beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful,” she whispered. The moment was so fragile but nothing could break how she felt for you. 

You feel the need to say something in return but the only words that come to mind are about how you're falling for her. And you can't give yourself away just yet. So you shift your hips over her face. Before you take your seat, you notice that you've forgotten a step in your haste. 

“Wait, we need a safe signal.”

“Like I'd fucking tap out,” she rasps, frustrated that you're so close but just out of reach. 

“Still, we need one.” 

“Fine. I'll tap you twice if I need you off. That work?” 

“That works,” you nod, shifting your hips to position right over her mouth. 

“Oh fuck, thank you.” She sighs before you lower your cunt onto her mouth. 

She starts with kisses to your folds, breathing in your scent while she can still breathe. Her lips press kisses everywhere she can reach, mostly over your labia. Her nose nudges right beneath your clit and you drag your hips back to get her right where you need her. Nose now bumping against your clit, your thighs clench from the added simulation. 

You can feel the tension, built up on months of pent up emotions, dissolving with each pass of her tongue. The tension melts down, collecting inside of you and waiting to be released. Her kisses become open-mouthed as your arousal coats her lips. You jerk your hips, moving your clit over her mouth. She licks around the bud, feeling it twitch and beg to be touched. 

Looking down, you can see her eyes are closed, eyes rolled back behind her lips. Her tongue swipes over your clit and you nearly throw your head back to moan, but you can't tear your eyes away from her. She looks too beautiful beneath you. It makes you feel like you're doing more than taking your own pleasure. It makes you feel like you're not on top, you're on your throne. Your insides clench again as she flicks her tongue over your clit. 

Sevika's hips squirm, trying to find some friction to calm the tension inside of her. Everything about you fuels how much she burns for you. She felt warm whenever you were around but with you filling her senses in this moment, she was close to combustion. She could distantly feel a liquid heat drip from her cunt. With each slow drip that leaked from her, her core coiled with excitement. 

Channeling her yearning into eating you out, she works her tongue over your clit. When you start to shift your hips again, she flattens her tongue letting you move wherever you please. 

You grab her by the hair, grinding onto her tongue to chase your orgasm. It's an orgasm you've been chasing everytime you've masterbated thinking about her. A fantasy that has been just out of reach, and even now it mocks you by running away. 

“Sev, I'm so close,” you choked out. 

You ride her tongue, desperation drowning out the aching in your muscles. Your thrusts are messy, but her tongue finds you each time. No matter where you move, Sevika is there. 

Your orgasm is done with being chased. It meets you, just the way you always imagined it would. It breaks the laws of physics, making gravity cease to exist. Your entire body is weightless as you gasp and choke out Sevika's name. Your grip on her hair is the only thing tying you to this world. 

When the world finally rights itself, gravity working as it should, you lift your weight off of her. Her hands pull your hips forward, setting your dripping hole over her mouth. There's so much more of you to be had and Sevika wasn't ready for the moment to end. 

She laps at your opening, groaning with every bit of cum she licks away. Your taste is even sweeter now, or maybe it was psychological. Sevika wouldn't put it past her to think you taste better after coming. You did things to her that she couldn't explain. 

She is pulled from her thoughts when you jerk your hips away and she detaches her lips. You swing a leg over her head and dismount inelegantly.

“Thank you,” she gasps after she catches her breath. When she no longer needs to gasp for air she takes a deep inhale through her nose, catching your lingering scent that coats her face. 

She doesn't have enough time to react before you straddle her hips and push at her top. You're surprised by your surge of energy but you'd be damned if you didn't return the favor. 

“Sev… Fucking strip for me,” you purr. 

She moans your name, hands reaching up to hold your face and bring you down for a kiss. You dodge the kiss, needing her naked for you. 

“Sevika, I want you. Please… you're too beautiful for me not to see.”  

That makes her heart skip a beat. Sevika doesn't accept compliments but you said that word like it's the truth. So she believed you. 

“Okay,” she nodded, her turn to admit defeat tonight. 

You lift off her lap, moving to unbutton her pants. She lifts her hips and you pull down the waist band. Her pants take more force than you expected to pull over her ass but after a couple tries, they slide all the way down to her knees. She begins to kick her pants down to her ankles then toes them off. 

“The scar is pretty obvious,” she says. You're confused for a moment then you remember why the two of you are in your bed in the first place. On her left thigh is a gash, a centimeter thick and 7 centimeters long. It was a deep cut, evident by how raised and pale the scar is. 

“Shit, that's really fucking bad. How'd you survive?” 

“Took two extra doses of shimmer. You'd be surprised by how life saving that shit can be.”

“Huh,” you shrug. She shifts her hips beneath you and you're back in the moment, forgetting her near death experience. Fuck the reason you finally got her into bed, you have her now and nothing else matters.

You are about to tug at her boxers when her chem tech arm reaches down and tears them apart with two tugs. You snort at her impatience. The amusement is soon gone when you see her cunt. Your imagination has failed you, she's prettier than any fantasy you've had. A trail of opaque, white cum leaking from her. 

“You fucking came?” you asked. 

“I can't control myself with you,” was the best explanation she could give. 

“Oh fuck,” you curse. You bend down to press kisses to her torso, trailing down the valley of her muscles. You don't care that you don't have her top off. If you were going to get your way tonight, it will be coming off eventually. But right now you want to feel her. 

You set your pace slow, kissing downwards to her thighs. She opens her legs, making space for you between them and you gladly take it. 

“Sevika, what do you want?” You doubt you could do anything she wouldn't want but it never hurts to be sure. 

Sevika stops to think for a moment. She imagined every single sexual scenario with you. So which one would she choose? A few crossed her mind but one made the coil of excitement return above the rest. The thought of your fingers, more slender and soft than hers, fucking her until she melts into nothing. 

“Finger me,” she pleads. Sevika keeps surprising you, using a desperate tone that goes against her character. 

“Oh shit, I'm going to fuck you so good,” you sighed. 

You get comfortable on your knees, intending to stay there as long as you can. You trail your fingers over her thighs, tracing words into her skin. You can't tell her that you're falling so you write it out. On her left thigh, ‘I love you” is etched. On her right thigh, “Stay with me” is drawn. 

“Stop tickling me, I need you inside me,” she whines. The sound almost kills you, her velvet voice whining for you to enter her. 

You trace your right hand over her thigh and toward her cunt, teasing just a little more. She gasps when you insert your middle finger. Maybe you do too, with how good she feels. You knew she was wet but what makes you lightheaded is how warm she is. 

Her whines no longer shock you, coming out of her with each slow stroke of your finger. Adding a second finger takes her moans up in pitch. Your fingers feel a thousand times better than she dreamed, non-calloused fingers pulling the coil inside her tighter. 

“More,” she pants. You don't want to leave her word up for interpretation so you ask for clarification. 

“More what? Another finger? Faster? Need me to rub your clit? Tell me,” you urged. 

“Faster! Touch my clit!” she gasps out. Sweat begins to coat her forehead. 

Your fingers pick up their speed, curling against her sweet spot. Without removing your fingers, you move over her right thigh, walking up on your knees before settling down. 

In this position you lay at her side, face next to hers and arm reaching down to finger her. Your palm rubs over her clit with each thrust. You dip your head down to attach your lips. She sighs into your mouth, lips parting to let you control the kiss. 

Everytime your lips meet, you find a new favorite way to kiss her. Now, you find you love biting her lip. She pants and moans into your mouth as her pussy squelches from your fingering. She sounds wetter with each thrust, your fingers gliding in with more and more ease. 

“Please,” she pants, “I'll make a mess.” 

It's your turn to groan into her mouth. That sentence was a threat and a promise. She shifts her hips nudging your fingers to the exact right spot. 

You feel her orgasm wet your fingers as she whimpers out your name. Nothing could've prepared you for how magical making Sevika squirt for you would be. Her breaths huffed into your mouth. Her thighs clamped around your hand. Her pussy leaked all over your fingers. 

After thirty seconds pass, her thighs unclench and you remove your hand. You bring it up to your lips but Sevika grabs your wrist before you can taste her. 

“Can we… I want us… I want to be yours.” Sevika says when she catches her breath. 

“As long as I can be yours.” 

She guides your wrist to your mouth and you take your coated fingers into your mouth. Her taste bursts over your tongue, earthy and slightly salty. You lick your fingers clean and commit her taste to memory. Not that you would never taste her again, but it's something you need to remember. Any moment spent not tasting her will be torture from now on. 

Sevika wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in to lay on her chest. You settle in, placing your head over her heart. The two of you hold each other, you're listening to her heartbeat steady itself. 

“Sorry about your sheets,” you hear her say, words rumbling in her chest. 

You sit up to inspect the damage. The image makes you laugh. Between her thighs is a little heart-shaped puddle. 

“I lo-” you stop before the words come out, “I don't care. It'll wash out.” 

You lay back down to cuddle her, “You came in a heart-shaped puddle, by the way.” 

Sevika snorts, not surprised that her body was outing her feelings for you. She presses a kiss to your forehead, settling for gratefulness that she didn't chicken out tonight. 

“Why did it take so long for us to do this?” you ask. 

“I was afraid you'd figure out that I'm in love with you,” she says. She meant to hide the words but they found their way out. Sevika loves the way you soften her, how you break away all the walls to her heart without trying. 

Your voice is a whisper when you speak, “Are you still scared?” 

“I'm terrified.” 

“Me too.” 

“Scared?” Sevika tries to get you to clarify. She needs to know. 

“No. In love with you.” 

[ceoofyearning]

half algorithm, half deity - (Mafia AU) Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader (Rhysand’s Sibling)

Summary: You try to date other people, but in truth you’ve only ever wanted Eris Vanserra.

Tags/Warnings:

Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI), SMUT with plot, Angst, Modern Mafia AU, Established FWB, Mentions of past Tamlin x Reader (brief), Mentions canon typical violence, Mentions of minor character death (Rhysand’s mom and other sister)

Alcohol, Oral (M & F receiving), Rough but make it tender & loving too, Hair pulling, P in V, Overstim if you squint (please lmkif i missed anything)

Word Count: 6.5k

Links: Masterlist | My Art

Despite your father’s best efforts, you didn’t inherit your family’s propensity for violence. 

You drink your wine and remind yourself of that fact for the umpteenth time tonight. But if this male gives you another backhanded compliment or, Mother forbid, another unsolicited criticism, you might reconsider that fact. Rhys had made sure you knew how to gut a man in just three moves and you remember each precise stroke as effortlessly as a breath.

To dissuade yourself from such thoughts, you take another generous gulp of wine - your only saving grace as you listen to him drone on and on about his most recent business acquisition. For the past forty-five minutes, the man has managed to recount his entire genealogy, his academic history and recited what felt like an itemized list of all his professional accomplishments. This is supposed to be a date, you’re tempted to remind him, not a chance to whip out his dick and measure it. 

He has yet to ask you anything about yourself, of course, entirely preoccupied with stroking his damn ego. You’ve stopped trying after the fifth cycle of appropriately timed ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s, seeing he doesn’t seem to need you to continue his tirade. Your pointed glares and longing glances at your wristwatch remain unnoticed too. The number of drinks you’ve had seems to be an entirely different story, however. 

"You know, you should really slow down," he remarks, his sardonic smirk exposing a set of eerily straight white teeth.

“And why is that, exactly?” You ask before taking another long sip of wine with deliberate slowness. His jaw clenches ever so slightly, his smile little more than a collection of clenched teeth. 

“You wouldn’t want to be too drunk for later.” He makes a show of raking his beady eyes over your form. The predatory glint in his eye makes your skin crawl and your hackles raise in equal measure. 

“Bold of you to assume there would be a later,” you drawl, your eyes narrowing into slits, nostrils flaring in silent outrage. 

“Oh, there will,” he declares with an impressive amount of unearned confidence. “How else are you going to pay me back for this meal, sweetheart?” He says it as though it’s a given, like your body is something he’s owed for this paltry display. Fuck, if you don’t leave now, you’re sure you’ll end this night behind bars, probably charged with manslaughter. Rhys would get you out of it, of course, but he’d be incredibly smug about it and you couldn’t have that. 

The man makes another show of tracing his slimy gaze over your body, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “I must say, I wasn’t a big fan of the dress - too revealing to be classy, in my opinion - but I suppose it wouldn’t matter when it’s on the floor of my penthouse.”

You admit that you don’t try very hard to hold back a gag. Without even dignifying him with a response, you hail the waiter and gesture for the bill in the hopes that the expression on your face is enough to convey the urgency you feel. To her credit, it only takes her a minute to rush to the table in all black and white salvation, the bill in hand. 

With haste, you pull out the cash from your wallet and slam it down the table. It should be enough to cover everything, even the tip. You give the man one last scathing glare before you rise from the table. A fish out of water - that’s what he looks like, wide-eyed with his mouth opening and closing, probably on the cusp of claiming to everyone in the room that you’re crazy, that you’re overreacting.

Before he can do any of that you pivot sharply towards the exit, ignoring the man’s indignant sputtering. Your feet protest beneath you, your new stilettos digging painfully into your skin with every step. Only when you’re five blocks away from the restaurant do you let yourself slow to a stop. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, undoubtedly ruining the makeup you spent such a long time putting on earlier that night. 

Suddenly, the dress you felt so confident in now feels suffocating. The fabric clings to your skin fat too tightly, constricting your every movement. The silken garment you had thought to fit you like a glove now surrounded you like a cage. You tug at the neckline, trying to find some relief, but the discomfort only intensifies.

Frustration bubbles in your gut as you collapse onto the nearest bench to catch your breath. You feel so stupid. Although you don’t want to admit it, you’ve been looking forward to a nice night out after an entire week of slogging through work. Instead, you ended up sacrificing what little free time you have to satisfy some asshole’s vanity. 

The city continues in indifferent chaos around you. The fluorescent streetlights overhead and the headlights of passing cars slice through the night. People bustle past, absorbed in their own lives, oblivious to your existence. At this moment, you’ve never felt more alone. 

Seeing Feyre and Rhys fall in love has been an eye-opening experience. You’ve watched them gradually find happiness in each other, watched them build a life together. There’s also Nes and Cass, Viv and Kal - all so utterly content, so in painfully love. It is a relief to know that love is possible despite the kind of lives you live. After what happened - your gun slotted in between those bright forest eyes, finger frozen at the trigger; the stumbling string of sorries, of depthless regrets; white marble tiles stained crimson by blood - happiness hadn’t seemed like a possibility. All you’ve had since then are inconsequential flings and ill-conceived dalliances, nothing that could lead to anything more.

It’s difficult to admit that you want something more.

But since you’ve started seeing other people, it’s only been a series of disappointments one after the other. What made basic empathy and human decency such a scarce resource these days? In all honesty, you’re starting to lose hope, starting to think that maybe that love just isn’t in the cards for you. 

You cared for Tamlin in your own foolish, fumbling way. He was solid ground, he was stubborn certainty. He clung to control so tightly that his nails left angry red indents on his palm. In many ways, you were his antithesis, his unmaking. He tried to be good but the both of you hadn’t been good for each other. Perhaps the two of you had been too lonely, too stubborn, too fucking young to realize not all forms of love were healthy.

Eris Vanserra is an entirely different matter. He came to you as a flicker of flame in the darkest night. He was a breath of fresh air - a lungful of ember and possibility - setting you alight from the inside out. More importantly, Eris understands you the same way one side of a coin knows the other. That, however, didn’t mean you could be together. 

Perhaps in some ways, knowing made the longing worse.

Your hand clenches around air, around the vestige of a memory you can’t seem to let go of. Your fingers itch to dial the same set of numbers you’ve deleted from your phone time and time again. You remember it anyway, though. Your mind has faithfully cataloged every memory of him - silky red hair brushing against your cheek, amber eyes crinkling in mischievous delight, arms wrapping around your body, making you feel safe for the first time in your life. 

Your body moves before your better judgment can catch up. Before you know it, the familiar set of numbers is staring accusingly at you from your phone screen. Droning rings of an outgoing call pierce the silence. On the third one, Eris picks up. 

“Firefly.” That word. You can hear the amusement in his tone. You refuse to acknowledge the hint of relief you sense there too, the note of near manic joy. It’s been months since you’ve last seen each other, since you told him that you needed something more - more than stolen moments, more than simply falling in and out of each other's beds only to be nothing but mere strangers come morning. 

You say nothing, trapping unsaid words behind teeth clenched so tightly it’s a wonder you don’t break your jaw. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Eris laughs, smooth, sensual, and utterly addicting. The sound sends a shiver down your spine. You fight the sudden urge to feel his lips shape the words with your own, to feel the vibrations of his laughter with the tips of your fingers. 

“Tell me where you are,” he tries again. You can hear him lean back on his office chair, undoubtedly working late yet again. To anyone else, he would’ve sounded perfectly calm. 

“I don’t know,” you sniff, fighting back the traitorous tears. “I’m near the Moonstone Palace.” It’s the overpriced restaurant you had been in earlier, the reason you’re going to have to struggle with rent this month. You could always ask Rhys, but you’ve long since divorced yourself from your family’s wealth.

Eris exhales, and you hear a suspicious amount of rummaging in the background. “Could you send your location to me?” He suggests, and you can make out the faint sound of a door opening and closing. 

“Okay.” It comes out as a resigned sigh. 

Before he hangs up, he makes sure, “Are you safe?”

“I am.” 

“Give me fifteen minutes.” 

Eris arrives in ten.

You’re slumped on the bench, clutching your purse to your chest as the frigid night air rushes past you. In your haste, you completely forgot to retrieve your coat before rushing out of the restaurant. But then, the low growl of an engine captures your attention. You turn to find a sleek black Benz gliding into view before coming to a halt right in front of you. 

The window rolls down to reveal Eris’s smug face, familiar and foreign all at once. His bright fiery locks, longer now, have been tamed into a braid behind his back. Loose strands frame his sharp features, highlighting the severity of his beauty. He looks paler than usual, freckles now barely visible across his cheeks. 

Eris grins, voice laced with far too much delight. “Didn’t I tell you, Love? You wouldn’t be able to stay away.” 

Your nostrils flare involuntarily, equal parts irritation and wry amusement warring in you. When he notices the redness of your eyes, however, his smile banks. The only reason you can tell he’s worried is because you’ve spent an inordinate amount of time learning his tells, mapping the meaning behind the slivers of genuine emotion that sometimes slip through his carefully constructed mask. You’ve got it down to a science, interpreting him the same way astronomers find reason in the depths of the cosmos.

Without another sly remark, he steps out of the car and slips out of his coat as he strides toward you. When he moves to wrap the garment around your body, you try to protest. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You’re freezing,” he insists before dropping the surprisingly heavy coat over your shoulders. The effect is immediate. Eris is a walking furnace most days and traces of his heat still linger on the cloth, thawing the ice that has gathered beneath your skin.

You groan in relief despite yourself, finally acquiescing and pulling his coat tighter around you. Eris smirks, and you shoot him a perfunctory glare in response. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t comment on the way you bury your face in the upturned lapels, inhaling a lungful of his cinnamon and woodsmoke scent.

“Fun night?” He asks once you’ve plopped down the passenger seat. 

“Obviously,” you reply, words thick with sarcasm. “I had the time of my life, really. Nothing like a date with another entitled, self-involved trust fund asswipe to liven up my Saturday night.” Eris looks entirely too pleased with this information. 

He shrugs. “Your dates can’t compare?” He shoots you a knowing look. You resent the implication, but can’t entirely deny it either. 

The truth of the matter is that you’ve never truly gotten over Eris. As brief as your explosive affairs may have been, the male has found a way to burrow beneath skin, to etch himself onto the surface of your mind. There is no washing him off you. In these last few months, all you’ve done is find fragments of him in faceless men. 

“Can’t compare to your arrogance, maybe,” you retort a beat too late.

 

“Oh Firefly, you know you love it,” the smug bastard shoots back smoothly. 

“You think you know me so well,” you grumble, crossing your arms defensively.

“Well enough.” Eris’s smile widens, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Well enough to know those men you’ve found aren’t worth your time.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that he is at least vaguely aware of your failed attempts at dating. Embarrassment coils in your gut, betrayed only by the steadily rising flush of your cheeks. “Maybe one day I’ll find someone who doesn’t make me want to scream.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, a hint of mischief lingering in his eyes. “But where’s the fun in that?” He leans toward you, face hovering over yours. The intensity of his gaze feels dangerous, almost like a threat, a promise that he could easily tear down all your walls if he pleased. Memories flash - of him devouring your mouth with his own, of bare bodies intertwined on soiled sheets, of him greedily drinking in each moan from your mouth as you clench tightly around his length - playing on torturous repeat in your mind. 

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Your breaths come short, voice trembling. Eris’s smile widens, canines glinting beneath the warm light - a well-honed predator to and through. 

Eris chuckles. “And yet, here you are.”

You sincerely can’t tell whether you want to clock him in the jaw or pull him down for a kiss. But then, in a rare show of mercy, Eris withdraws. He simply pulls your seatbelt down and fastens it beside you before turning back to the wheel. You release a breath you don’t realize you are holding. 

The engine roars beneath you and Eris begins to maneuver the car back onto the highway. You slump further down in your seat, only to have several objects dig into your ribs. You jolt up, patting down his coat for the offending items. In your search, you produce a stiletto hidden in the inner lining and a Glock 19 in one pocket. 

“Really?” You quirk your brow at him as you drop another knife on the car floor.

Amber eyes dart towards you for the briefest second, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, before turning his gaze back to the road. You don’t doubt Eris has more hidden on his person, maybe even in this car. 

“Can’t be too careful,” he replies with a shrug, his hand flexing on the wheel. You follow the movement with rapt attention, transfixed by the rhythmic contractions of the muscles beneath, by the faint blue of the veins that run in webs up his forearm. 

Eris, the bastard, catches your preoccupation with his body. Of course, he does. 

His smirk widens into a full grin, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Enjoying the view?"

You snap your gaze back to his face, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Keep your eyes on the road," you remind him, stalling, trying to regain your composure. “Perhaps you should put up a show for me, and I’ll decide then.” 

Eris chuckles at the challenge, a deep, resonant sound that never fails to send shivers down your spine. 

The rest of the drive to your apartment is spent in comfortable silence, Eris content to leave you in your corner, brooding and bundled up in his coat. You lean your head on the window, letting your thoughts drift by at the same pace the scenery slips away from view. You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until you feel Eris tucking strands of your hair behind your ear.

“We’re here.” 

Your eyes flutter open, reality reluctantly coalescing into focus in front of you. There's an amused expression on the redhead's face as he watches you wake. A part of you is tempted to curl back into a ball, content to pretend at peace just a little longer. Eris has no such qualms, however. He undoes your seatbelt and tugs you out of the vehicle. His arms remain loosely wrapped around your waist, though, even as he closes the door to the passenger seat.

“I should go.” He is so close his hot breath brushes against your cheek, the scent of mint permeating the air between you. 

“You should.” 

But none of you move to part. Your hands remain tightly fisted on his otherwise pristine shirt, while his arms create a cage around you, his body pressing you against the cool metal of the car. 

“Why did you call?” Eris asks instead. His cheek rests on your temple, his nose buried in your hair like he can’t quite help but gravitate towards you. Your grip on him tightens the same way the sun pulls celestial bodies into its orbit, completely, inevitably.  

“You know why.” 

“Tell me anyway.” He pulls back just enough to look straight into your eyes, molten amber burning into you. 

“I want you.” You confess. I’ve only ever wanted you, your mind further supplies. His gaze is searching, as if scouring for all the ways he can turn over your words in his head if the new angles would reveal some hidden meaning.

“I want to forget.” You continue, tugging him down by the collar. He follows willingly and rests his forehead on yours. Lips hover over your own, breaths mingling in the scant space between you. His mask turns translucent. Joy, pain, and regret flash in quick succession across his face before you can even parse their meaning.

“As do I, Love.” 

The moment you step into your apartment, all traces of tenderness dissipate. 

Eris has you trapped between the wall and the firm line of his lithe body. He easily towers over you. With one thigh wrapped around his slim waist, only his firm grip on your hips and his thigh slotted between your parted legs keep you upright. Your remaining leg stands precariously on the tips of your toes, teetering dangerously in whichever current Eris pulls you in.

His mouth is latched onto your neck, leaving blooms of red in his wake. You should tell him to stop, tell him not to leave any visible marks. But all words and reason are lost to you when his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin in time with a particularly well-timed roll of his hips. 

“Eris!” You keen, clawing at his back in a vain attempt to find purchase. But there is no safe harbor to be found, not here. Eris is a force of nature. He is the living embodiment of wildfire, burning brightly, holding you so firmly, that it’s as though he intends to fuse your bodies together.

“What is it, Firefly?” He whispers the words against your ear, right before he catches your lobe in between his teeth. You can feel his lips curl against your skin. “What does my pretty girl want?”

“You.” It comes out as a demand, a desperate plea. 

“Use your words, love.” His movements settle into a languid pace, excruciatingly slow, pulling a whine from your throat. His single hand encompasses your entire jaw. Pads of his fingers press against the joint, his grip firm but gentle. Eris turns your face so you’re looking straight into his burning eyes. “Let’s try again, shall we? Tell me, how do you want me?” 

“I need your cock in my mouth,” you whisper your want against his lips, confessions you’d never be able to make in the light of day. Amber eyes roll back at the image your words evoke. Eris forces his eyelids shut as you continue to speak. “Then, I want to feel you inside me, fuck me into the mattress, until your name is the only word in my mind, until I can feel you for days after.” 

“Firefly.” With his face in the crook of your neck, he groans like you’re torturing him. You allow him a few short moments to gather himself - heavy heated breaths blown onto your nape - before tugging him by the hair insistently. His braid comes loose and a river of red falls in delicate curls over his freckled shoulders. Eris is an entirely different person when his head snaps up to meet your gaze.

“On your knees.” 

Electricity crackles through the air between you at the sheer command in his voice. Obediently, you sink to his feet, gazing up at him with wide hungry eyes. To his credit, Eris’s expression remains impassive, his ardor betrayed only by the tension in his jaw and the glint in his eyes. With his thumb, he presses down on your bottom lip. 

“Suck.” 

Your mouth parts to welcome him, until you feel the cool press of his signet against your lips, a welcome contrast. You swirl your tongue around the digit, bobbing your head for a few beats. Eris clenches his jaw, the pad of his thumb lightly digging onto your tongue as he pulls it out. You release it with a pop of your lips.

“Good.” 

Eris tilts his head, a silent permission to continue. While you gradually slip off his belt and undo the zip of his trousers, Eris gathers your hair in his fist. With a single push, his impressive length is revealed to you, long and heavy. Anticipation sparks in your chest, eager to feel his weight on your tongue.

“Go on then.” 

So you do. You flatten your tongue against the base of his cock, licking a stripe to the tip. There, you take the head into the wet heat of your mouth and suck. Eris makes an involuntary thrust, despite the tight leash he normally keeps around himself.

“Fuckin’ Hel,” he groans, grip now deliciously digging into your scalp. You moan your appreciation against him, and the male shudders in response. For a few moments, you simply alternate between lazily bobbing your head and swirling your tongue against him as best you can. Your hand twists in tandem to accommodate the remaining length of him. 

“You’re a damned tease,” he accuses. “A demon.”

With wide eyes, you blink innocently up at him from beneath your lashes. Eris scoffs, rolling his eyes, but allows the torturous cycle to continue. When you sense his movements grow more erratic, his muscles tensing beneath your palms, you slow your movements just in time to deny him his release. At the third time of doing this, Eris looks close to breaking.

“Enough.” He growls, the command reverberating through the silent room, through every fiber of your being. 

You still immediately, the intensity in his voice sending a thrill through you. He adjusts his grip on your hair, winding the strands around his knuckles and tugging lightly as if to test his grip. You groan at the bite of pain, your arousal dripping from you.

“I’m gonna fuck your pretty face now, Firefly.” He whispers with such disorienting tenderness. “Tap my thigh twice if it becomes too much, understand?” 

“Yes.” Your too-eager reply draws a lopsided smile from Eris’s otherwise stoic demeanor. “Please,” you add as an afterthought as you brace your hands against his thighs.

Eris tilts his head once more, and you take that as your signal to proceed. Your lips wrap around him, cheeks hollowing out, tongue curved around his length. His thrusts begin tentatively, but it doesn’t take long for him to find his rhythm. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat with each thrust, his firm grip on your hair directing each movement. You will yourself to relax, angling yourself to take him better, deeper. For a while, all your thoughts evaporate, your entire focus simply on breathing through your nose and watching the look of ecstasy unfold across his face. 

“You feel amazing around me.” Eris pants as he pushes impossibly deeper. You struggle to take him, throat spasming around him. “My good girl,” he coos, his thrusts stuttering. You groan against him when one stroke allows him to bottom out completely. Nose nuzzling the thin line of red on his lower stomach, tears bloom in your eyes. You look up, only to find him already gazing at you. His amber eyes were wide with want, transfixed at the sight of you taking him completely. 

“I’m about to come, Love. You’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?” A drawn out mhm is all the permission he needs. “Every. Last. Drop.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust. 

Then, on his final advance, Eris holds you there by the head until the very last moment, until the fire in your veins has spread into each lobe of your lungs. When you swallow around him, he chokes, rolling his hips into your mouth. Your fingers curl into claws against his thighs but you don’t tap out. He moves once, twice, then he’s gone. Eris allows you a bit of reprieve by retreating into your mouth as his length pulses the rest of his release onto your tongue. 

“Fuck.” He rasps. Then, with a single tug, he pulls you off of him and onto your two wobbly legs. Eris only gives you a few seconds to catch your breath before his mouth crashes against yours for a kiss. He groans as he tastes himself on your tongue. 

“So perfect for me, made to take me.” His hands roam your body as though eager to discover every square inch of exposed skin. This is Eris in his rawest form, you realize, all control turned into liquid flame in his hands. He practically tears your dress from your body, pushing down the silk until it pools on the floor. 

“Yesss,” you hiss, clawing at his shirt and shoving it off his broad shoulders. “Only you.” Heavy thunks follow soon after - the gun holstered at his side, the knife strapped to his thigh.

“I fucking love you.” He growls in between breaths. Without giving you a chance to reply, he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at the raw flesh. 

You don’t even realize he’s corralled you into your room before he pushes you onto the bed. He pulls you to the edge by the ankle. Eris stands tall before you, rendered in sharp angles and steady lines, softened only by the warmth in his amber eyes. Then, slowly, he kneels between your parted thighs like a supplicant before their God and your body is the only conduit of worship he knows. 

“You okay?” He asks this while his head is pillowed on your thigh, as though he hadn’t just blown your mind. Eris, you’ve discovered, is a collection of contrasts - rough one second, and painfully tender the next. No amount of studying him could let you predict the direction of his passion. You don’t mind, though, you’d happily be carried away in his current.

“Perfectly.” 

“You remember your word?” He removes your stilettos, brushing over the raw skin where the straps have dug in.

“I do.” 

“Say it for me.” He lines your heels neatly at the foot of your bed. 

“Ember.”

“Good.” Eris begins his meandering path up your legs. A kiss on your ankle, lips ghosting over your leg. Once his lips reach your thighs, he starts to nibble and suck on your skin. The simple declaration of possession shouldn’t please you as much as it does, but it only deepens the pool of desire and anticipation in your gut. 

“Eris,” you whine, breathless, as he pauses at the seam of your thigh. His smirk only grows at your increasingly desperate pleas and the erratic movements of your hips.

“Use your words, Firefly.” Eris reminds you beatifically. “Tell me what you want.”

“Your mouth,” you begin, already struggling to form a coherent string of words. “Please?” 

“My mouth?” He asks, pretending to consider it. “But I thought you said you wanted my cock?”

His taunting jolts you out of your reverie, always rearing to meet his fire with your own. You come up to your elbows to level him a raised brow. “Well, you’re already on your knees, aren’t you?” Despite knowing you’ll pay for your words later, you try to inject as much bravado into your voice as you can. The effect is dulled by your obvious desperation though.

Eris chuckles, shaking his head as if in disapproval. “What to try that again, Firefly?” He blows a hot breath towards your core, the sudden sensation sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. “I’m sure you can do better than that.” 

You clench your teeth, a vain attempt to keep the pleas trapped within your mouth. Eris remains steadfast, of course, staring you down with obvious amusement. His lips travel a languid path, teeth teasing, mouth nipping, veering closer and closer but never close enough. This is a battle you’ve already lost from the start. 

“Please?” You grit out. “Can I please have your mouth?” 

“You’re a greedy little thing aren’t you?” Eris laps at the marks he’s left, just a few millimeters from where you want him to be. Practically vibrating with need, you dangle on the sharp edge of anticipation. The bite Eris plants on the soft flesh of your thigh is what pushes you off the precipice.

“Please,” you plead, each syllable dripping with need.  “Can I please have your mouth?”

“Well, since you asked so prettily,” Eris drawls, entirely indulgent. He places your leg over his shoulder and dives in. First, he runs the flat of his tongue over your flimsy thong, lapping at your slit. You shudder at the sensation, melting against the sheets as he continues.

“You taste divine.” He growls, the vibrations making you tighten around nothing. Then, closes his mouth over your slit and begins to suck. You throw your head back, heel digging into his back, hips arching towards the pull of his mouth. Your arousal seeps into the cloth. A heartbeat, a fraction of eternity, then Eris licks the lace greedily like a man starved.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He mouths against the fabric. You feel the truth of his words as surely as the growing flame in your gut. Then, he slides your undergarments down one thigh, keeping it wrapped around the other, a mockery of a wedding garter. Finally, his lips close around your clit as he slides one long finger in you, then two, scissoring them inside. You release a choked sob. His fingers are much thicker than your own, but the stretch is a burn you’ve been craving for far too long. 

“Fuck, Firefly, you’re so damn tight.” He murmurs against your skin. He begins thrusting his fingers in and out of you, making it a point to curl his digits in just the right spot. The precision of his movements is enough to drive you out of your mind. Eris shifts between murmuring sweet nothings against your heated skin and drawing precise circles around your clit.

At some point, Eris’s free hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers with his own. It doesn’t take long for you to climb that familiar high. Hurtling over the edge so fast, you don’t even realize you’re cumming until you’re overtaken by a wave of pleasure. It saturates your senses until the only thing that makes sense is Eris, Eris, Eris. 

He doesn’t stop. His fingers hit that torturous angle, while his tongue laps at your bud. “One more,” he demands and you whine in protest. “Just one more, Love.” 

“‘S too much-“ you try to say, but your words crack into a sob. “I c-can’t-“

“You can,” he coos. “My good girl, my lovely little Firefly.” The praise does more for you than his hands could. “Always so perfect for me.” 

Desire is a living thing inside you, an inferno building beneath your skin. You crush his fingers in your grip, while the other threads itself through his silken locks, needing something to anchor you unspool for him.

“Eris, I’m-“ your voice cracks, reality blurring around you as you spasm around him, hips gyrating, driven only by pure primal instinct. He groans, as though your pleasure is as good as his own. His fingers speed up, his tongue licking your bud to and fro with dangerous precision.

“Cum for me, Firefly.”

You do. You break into flames with his name on your lips, back bowing, eyes trained to the unseen sky. You barely even register when Eris climbs into bed with you, too preoccupied with reacquainting yourself with your body. Only when he pulls your pliant form over his chest do you meet his gaze. 

“Are you alright?” There is concern in his gaze, and you wipe the worry from his face as you run your knuckles over his cheek. 

“Perfectly.” An invisible tug calls you to dip your head and taste yourself on his lips. Eris licks the seam of your mouth and waits patiently until your lips part for him. 

Without breaking contact, you wrap your hand around his girth and begin stroking him to full hardness. Your tongues meet, and you relish the trace of your taste in his mouth. Once his cock is ready, you line him up with your entrance. 

You lower yourself onto him, slowly, inch by inch, until you’re fully on his lap. For a moment, you simply stay like that, with him seated deep within you, lips locked in a languid ebb and flow. When you begin to move, you do it together, rising and falling in question and answer to the other. You wonder if there will always be this constant compulsion to have Eris near, the need to feel his skin against yours, to feel his beating heart thump in step with your own. Somehow, against all reason, he’s managed to worm his way into your life, to make a home for himself within the chambers of your heart.

Eris becomes the ruined wreckage of a man as you slide off him up until only the tip remains, before slamming back down. Eris keeps his gaze on you as though he’d rather die than miss a single moment of this. He groans, meeting each and every single one of your movements. His one hand grips your hip, guiding and grinding, fingers digging into you. The other cups your breast, his thumb tracing over your nipple. When your thighs begin to ache, legs quaking, powered only by desire and desperation, Eris easily flips you over. 

“Harder,” you choke out, “deeper.”

“So demanding,” Eris teases but seems happy enough to comply. He places a pillow beneath your hips. You almost whine at the pause, but Eris doesn’t give you a chance. He begins with an unforgiving pace, pistoning in and out of you with abandon. The new angle is torture specifically designed to tear your remaining sanity into shreds. Your legs lock around his waist, hands clasped tightly with his own. His lips hover over yours, drinking in each whimper, each moan, like it's ambrosia and you’re the sole source. 

“Are you about to cum for me, Love?” Eris breathes. And you nod frantically.

“Tell me, Firefly, who’s making you feel good, hm?” He punctuates the sentence with a hard thrust that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“You are,” you rasp, convulsing around him as his cock nudges the perfect spot inside of you.

“My name,” he demands.

“Eris.” It comes out as drawn out moan, a plea, a promise.

“And who do you belong to?” The force of each slam has you seeing sparks, and when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb? You’re gone, utterly defeated and consumed by the flame. 

“You!” You scream, repeating his name over and over and over. 

“That’s right,” he purrs. Your thighs shake, back arching completely off the mattress. The world breaks apart around you, reality melting into a flash of blinding light. He slows down and fucks you through the throes of rapture, extending seconds into eons while you flutter around him. With one last grind of his hips, you feel his cock throb as he spills deep inside you. 

Eris collapses on top of you, surrounding you in his scorching warmth. For a long while, only your shared breaths exist in the silence. He nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck, as though unable to help himself.

Eris doesn’t tell you he loves you again. He shouldn’t, for both of your sakes. But you feel it in the featherlight kisses he leaves over your shoulder, his gentle touch as he traces each curve, line, and ridge of your body. He does it with such ease, as though it’s an art he’s perfected through the years, through lifetimes. 

Instinctively, you begin to run your hands over his back, fingers running over the lattice of faded scars there. Anger is a flaming arrow through your chest. Beron is not an easy father to have. Eris, as the prospective heir to his empire, receives the brunt of his brutal scrutiny. What you’d give to have the opportunity to tear that old bastard’s head from his shoulders.

As if sensing your sudden agitation, Eris’s roaming hands become more insistent, kneading away all the tension from your muscles. “Relax,” he whispers against your ear. 

Although he rolls off of you, he doesn’t go far. Without letting you out of the cage of his arms, he curls beside you like a cat, each plane of your bodies perfectly aligned. With his head resting over your heart, a rumble of contentment escapes him.

It’s startling to think that to anyone outside of this room, Eris is a villain, as well-versed in savagery as his father. But you know him, seen parts of him the world would never know. You and Eris have always been two sides of the same coin. 

He understands what it’s like to endure and inherit a father’s rage, to house a mother’s bottomless grief, to be saturated with so much shame it steals your every breath. The two of you are so different and yet are hewn from the same ore, forged from the same fire. Although there are a multitude of reasons why the both of you can’t be together, it feels as though Eris is the only one who's ever truly seen you as you are. 

But self-denial is a circus act you and Eris perform with practiced ease. You’ve already fucked up before and it wasn’t you who ended up paying the price. No, it had been your mother and your sister. Their blood will stain your hands for the rest of your life. 

You won’t make that same mistake again. 

Two twined heartbeats, breaths released and taken in unison, Eris drifts off as your fingers card through his hair. You drink him in, long lashes fluttering as he flits into sleep, faint freckles like stars scattered over the ridge of his nose, and his face, for once, open and devoid of that familiar mask. You map its planes with the tips of your fingers, cataloging each detail and etching them onto the back of your mind. 

Eris will be gone come morning. He always is. The only proof of his presence would be the ache between your thighs and his scent still lingering on your sheets. But for now, though, he is yours, as fleeting as this moment may be. 

This is enough, you tell yourself. 

AN: hello this is my first smut fic in a while & this is a bit different from my usual thing so i was a bit nervous about posting this one. Let me know what you guys think!

Dialogue and banter aren’t my strong suit but i tried my best ;u;

This started as pwp fic but now there’s plot and I’m invested. I’ve got a few ideas and I kinda want to do a series of one-shots for these two.

English isn’t my first language. If you see any mistakes please let me know thru DM! Thank you 💙

[latin5mamii]

Backstage -Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: cute and fluff |AUTHOR'S NOTE:inspired by remmysthings request (Jude Bellingham xSinger reader) |SUMMARY:You couldn't imagine that the world's best footballer had a little crush on you..

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”Jude says to his friends while watching you perform, almost

enchanted by your skill and beauty. You were called to perform in a stadium, where all the celebrities would be there to watch you.

"She's also very good, I mean look at her-" 

"Jude, please stop.Just confess to her already" says his friend, Erling, poor guy, he just wanted to hear some good music but unfortunately he happened to be sitting next to Jude.

"How about next time you make a sign that says 'Y/N I love you'?" Trent says jokingly, lightly slapping Jude's cheek.

Before Jude could reply, the crowd erupted into applause as your performance came to an end. With a final bow and a gracious smile, you left the stage to the thunderous applause of thousands.

“We have to go to the fucking backstage and you have to congratulate, and maybe, even exchange numbers”Trent’s idea was approved by Erling too,so he took Jude by the hand, just like a baby, and they drag him to the backstage to talk to you.

With every step that brought them closer to backstage, Jude almost wanted to go back.

"Maybe it's not a good idea, I don't even know what to say to her"

"Flirt with her a little, be a gentleman and see that it's done. Have you ever been rejected?"

"No, is this even a question?"

"So what are you worried about?"

"Maybe he has traumas," Erling says, laughing along with Trent.

But now it was too late to go back out, there you were, talking to the festival organizer, taking compliments and saying goodbye.

As soon as you finish talking to her you lock eyes with Jude and smile at him, you literally see him being pushed towards you by his friends and he holds out his hand for you to shake it.

Jude took a deep breath and approached you tentatively. When you turned and caught his eye, your smile widened, and Jude felt a surge of determination.

"Hi," Jude greeted, his voice slightly hoarse from nerves but filled with sincerity. "I just wanted to say... that was an incredible performance. Really, really amazing."

You looked pleasantly surprised by his approach, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you so much," you replied warmly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I'm Jude," he introduced himself, extending his hand towards you.

"I'm Y/N," you said with a smile, shaking his hand gently. "It's nice to meet you, Jude."

Jude grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he stood there talking to you. His nervousness melted away as he engaged in light-hearted banter, sharing goofy stories and laughing together about festival mishaps.

"So, Y/N," Jude began with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "do you always make such amazing music, or are we just lucky tonight?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful charm. "I guess you're just lucky tonight," you teased, enjoying the playful banter.

As the conversation continued, Jude found himself genuinely enjoying your company. He felt at ease, making silly jokes and sharing lighthearted moments with you. Trent and Erling watched from a distance, grinning proudly at their friend's newfound confidence.

"Well, Y/N, I don't want to keep you from celebrating," Jude eventually said with a mock-serious expression. "But maybe we could continue this conversation over... I don't know, a dance-off?"

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll pass on the dance-off for now," you replied with a playful wink.

"Fair enough," Jude conceded with a grin. "But how about we exchange numbers instead? You know, for... future dance-offs."

You nodded, unable to suppress a smile at his infectious energy. "Sure, I'd like that," you agreed, exchanging numbers with Jude amidst playful banter.

He introduced you to his friends and then you said goodbye. Watching them going out you couldn’t help but smile,I mean, he’s hot, and you know it.

“Good job,mate!But don’t forget the sign next time,alright?”

“Shut up you jealous little shit”

[luveline]

omg I just saw your post about Steve where you asked which Steve we wanted. I'm missing KBD Steve so bad rn. Anything like a family movie night would really just heal my soul rn! (love your writings so much btw)

ty for requesting <3 mom!reader, 1k

“Did you play guitar?” 

Steve slinks further down into the corner of the couch, Avery too big but exactly where she’s meant to be in his lap. She’s affectionate from years of the world's most ridiculous parents, he assumes, so he could have Avery sit beside him rather than on top of him, but why bother? She’s gentle about how she sits despite her long limbs, swinging one arm behind his neck as she gets comfortable against his chest. 

“Did I what?” Steve asks. 

“Play guitar?” She points at the TV. “Uncle Eddie plays guitar.” 

“I can play a little bit, nothing like Uncle Eddie,” he says. “Just enough to serenade mom. I’d sing her all her favourites.” 

“So you had a guitar? Where did it go?” 

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe in the attic? There’s not room for all our stuff sometimes, so me and mom box it up and put it up there.” He looks at her knowingly. “Why, do you wanna try?” 

“Can I?” she asks. 

“Not tonight, but tomorrow? Is that okay? I’ll have to get the ladder from the garage, and we’re gonna watch a movie soon.” 

Avery’s pretty easy, as kids go. When Steve says tomorrow she doesn’t whine. In fact, she gives him a grateful, shining smile, the arm that’s laid across the front of him curling tighter as she presses her face into his neck. “Thanks, daddy.” 

He thinks that it’s because he’d guessed what she wanted. But that’s his job, to understand her and make her happy. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he loves her and he’s feeling quite loved up by her hugging and the feeling of her hair under his chin, he drops his voice into some rare parentese for her, “I bet you’ll be great at it. It takes some patience, but you have so much of it, and then you can play anything.” 

She giggles. “Like the song from The Neverending Story?” 

Steve’s heard enough of that song to last him a lifetime. “What about that song you and mom like? Have you seen her?” He’s tempted to sing it, and he figures it won’t hurt under his breath, “So fine and pretty, fooled me with her style and ease–”

Dove interrupts with a laugh as she tries to join in. The words escape her, but her passion makes up for it. She climbs up from her seat across the couch, sending the jellybeans she’d been holding in the lap of her nightgown careening across the living room floor. 

“Dove!” Avery says. 

“It’s okay, I’ll get them,” you say, standing just in front of the doorway with a towel around your shoulders. 

Steve hadn’t known you were there, you were gone so long for your shower he honestly forgot what you were doing. He groans as Dove drops her face into his jaw, what a disaster, but she doesn’t cry so he brushes it off while you clean up.

“Dove’s gonna help,” Steve insists. “Aren’t you, babe? Ow. You’re gonna help mom pick up your jellybeans. Ow, baby, don’t step on me.” 

“No,” Dove says with a giggle. “Sing again, daddy.” 

Beth jumps in behind you in fresh pyjamas, her hair damp and water wetting the neck of her t-shirt. That’s why you’d taken so long —your shower had been commandeered. It’s nice to see you both in some comfy pyjamas, better to see his lovely Beth feeling better. She’d been sick for so long it was starting to make him depressed; seeing her invigorated after a good shower and chasing down jellybeans with a mischievous smile makes his night. “I got them!” she says. “I got them, mom. There’s like, seven.” 

You hold out your hand. “Thank you. I think you got all of them.” 

Steve misses the rest of your conversation, a chubby palm smushed to his nose that he attempts to throw off. Avery giggles at his misfortune as Dove says, “Sing! Sing!” 

“I can’t sing, I can’t breathe,” he says. 

Dove pulls her hand back. She’s as close to rolling her eyes as she can get. “Sing.” 

“Now I can’t, Dove, you’re making me shy.” 

“Dad!” 

“You sing,” he suggests, leaning back, shielding Avery from her younger sister’s volatility with his arms. 

“We’re gonna sing so much.” You beam as you unveil the VHS tape for tonight’s movie. In time, your three girls gasp aloud. “Daddy’s favourite movie, the Little Mermaid!” 

“It’s not my favourite movie. That movie is my enemy. It makes all my babies cry.” Even Dove ends up in tears, though she usually cries when Ariel’s upset, rather than during Part of That World like her sisters do. 

“It makes you cry,” Beth says. 

“Beth, do we have a problem?” he asks. “Are you trying to get into a fight with me?” 

Beth grins and runs across the rug to climb up on the couch where Steve’s being submerged. She sits down by Doves’s feet, wrapping her arms around Dove’s little tummy, squishing herself to Steve’s side. “No, dad. I love you.” 

“I don’t believe you. I think you know you’ll lose if we wrestle.” 

You snort. Steve steals a glance at you between all the little arms, your hip pressed to the TV stand, your lip between your teeth as you click the wrong button. It’s not like you’re stupid, just the TV is old, and half the buttons don’t do what it is they say they do anymore. Your nose wrinkles and you backtrack, and Steve wishes he was standing right there to smooth it over with his thumb. After a few seconds of searching (and harassment on his end, Dove’s fingers dangerously close to his ear) you click the right thing and the tape that the girls were watching before dinner pops out. 

You smile to yourself at a job well done. Steve smiles at you, though you don’t see him doing it. 

“Your moms kinda pretty, huh?” he asks Avery. 

“Not kinda, super.” 

“How’s the baby?” you ask. 

Steve gives the baby monitor on the table by the couch a tap with his finger to make sure it’s still on. Feedback whines. “She’s hasn’t made a peep since your shower, honey.” 

“Maybe I’ll go see if she’s okay before the movie comes on. Miss the previews.” 

He can’t wait for you to sit down. “Okie dokie. Give her a kiss for me.” 

You raise your hand in scout’s honour. As you’re walking up the stairs, Avery shifts in Steve’s lap and asks, “You smile at mom all the time, does it make your cheeks hurt?” 

He sews a hand behind Beth’s back. “Nope. I have strong cheek muscles.” 

[mimipolo]

Nam-gyu x reader

I've only seen like two people write for him and I'm desperate 💔

It was the same old thing everyday. Hollering at people to come to the bar he worked. Fake smiles and bitter humour became the norm. He wasn't surprised with how things turned out, not like he cared to try and neither did his folks.

It was another Friday night, but tonight was different since he wasn't working today, that meant no hassling for customers. Some time just to himself. He wondered what he could do to pass the time, maybe a change of scenery, away from the bar and the thrum of music that ached his bones on those long nights.

But the lifestyle was already too deeply engrained in him, it was like a second home at this point and honestly where else would he go? He couldn't imagine using his money for anything other than to pay his rent or get his regular fix. The evolution from bummy cigarettes to actual drugs seemed so far away he can't remember when it began, it's not like he went out of his way to find it. He was content with the cheap stuff, but with work like this he should've expected how it'd eventually turn out. He tried to convince himself he hated it, that he only did it for the sake of his image but he knew better, he knew he got off the high and the one easiest to blame other than himself was Thanos. As he walked towards the bar he let out a sharp scoff as the man slipped into his mind, he was funny, entertaining but as bad an influence as any other.

He slows as the neon lights came into view, sighing as he picks a cigarette from a packet in his back pocket and easily lights it. Taking a long drag as he stares ahead, tempted to go in but something else repells him. For the moment he just hangs outside, just by the door of a small convenience store where most went to get a quick meal after a couple of drinks. His head unconsciously perks up at the sound of the convenience store doors bell ringing as a customer walks out and he has to take a double take to make sure he wasn't imagining it, wiping the cigarette smoke from his face to get a clearer look. The person of interest only seems to recognise him as they walk down the stairs and are about to make a turn to walk in his direction. Stopping dead in their tracks as they make direct eye contact eyes as wide as his. Yeah it was her.

Spluttering slightly as he continues to wave his arm to clear the smoke before swiftly butting his cigarette on the brick wall. A coyish smile on his face as he steps towards her, rocking on the balls of his feet.

"Been a while huh?"

He'd been friends with you for years knowing each other from highschool to the end of college, he couldn't be asked to go to uni, you didn't seem surprised but the disappointment on your face was clear. It almost made him back out.

Considering all this he'd say you two have a good length of history together, memories too. One memory he could never seem to shake was in the second year of college.

It was lunchtime and he had come to your classroom to sit and bother you as usual. You knew the routine. He was ranting on about some guy that he claimed to be an "arrogant dick", talking your ear off as he faced you completely, his leg knocking into yours occasionally to catch your attention when he got to certain parts, he was content with you humming your acknowledgement as you ate your food. But then he suddenly stops mid story, making your head perk up confused. He smirked proudly finally knowing you were actually listening to his dumb stories after all before it solemned slightly.

"What do you think?" He said almost mumbling, tucking his hair behind his ear, a habit of his you found endearing.

"Think of...what?" You had said back mid bite of your food, staring into his eyes, a bit too deeply, so he ran his hand over his face with a sigh.

"...Of me." His voice quieter now, looking ahead instead of at you, he could sense your judging gaze without looking. He remembers how his heart pounded and his hands felt clammy.

"Of you?" You hummed in thought, placing down your food as you looked at his side profile, unimpressed with how he refused to look back at you. You had sighed before answering, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand, "You're nice, when you're not with your friends, I like you more when it's just us." Is all you had said before returning to eating.

He couldn't forget how genuinely taken back by your words he felt, his hair moving with his head as it snapped towards you expectantly. You only give him a pleased side glance as you chuckle and shrug slightly, refusing to let him have a deeper insight to your words. And being immature as he was back then he never figured it out and even now he wonders if he'd figured it out. He wonders even now as he stands opposite you after three, almost four years, if you'd still be interested in an "us".

You chuckle softly, an undertone of disbelief as you step forward him with a small smile on your lips as you finally recognise him. Huffing again in shock, the cold air condensing and forming white clouds with each exhale.

"Nam-gyu? It's been so long I didn't think I'd see you again?" There's a gladness to see him in your words, in your expression and he can't deny the fact it made him feel better about himself.

"Yeah...we never really saw each other again after you left for uni and stuff." He muttered awkwardly, he wanted to seem more confident, it was embarassing to realise he'll probably never be able to look you in the eyes if he's not rambling about something stupid."How was it?"

You sink further into the warmth of your jacket as you answer the question, "It was fun, had all the experiences I missed out on and got my papers." He can't help but chuckle alongside you, even if he's sharing your joy three years too late. "What about you Nam, what are you up to?"

His heart seemed to lift at the familiar nickname, one that you had decided him worthy of on a random Tuesday afternoon in your third year of high school. He didn't care for when others used it but when it was you, and after so long? He could already feel his ears growing hotter as he chuckles again as he tucks his hair behind them.

"Ah...ha, just working ya know." He pursed his lips, he didn't want you to know where he worked, after all your scolding of how he "had potential" but any drive he had left with mum when she abandoned him with his grandma after his dad's death. All of a sudden he was itching for another drag of that cigarette he had just snubbed out. Sucking it up with a slight smile as he gestured awkwardly behind him. "I, uh actually work here, at the bar."

You only nodded, understandingly it seemed, but his gaze wavers at how your eyebrows draw together slightly, he knew what you were thinking but he wasn't ready to confront that, not now. "I wouldn't recommend you come by though." He sighed as he rubbed his hands together, trying to seem as unbothered as he could. He honestly didn't want you near this place, or getting involved with the people in it. He was only here because the pay was good enough and he couldn't think of anywhere else to apply, maybe, just maybe if he had looked around. Sucked up his pride and asked you for advice he wouldn't be stuck in this place. But it was far too late to be considering that now.

He watches as you tilt your head at his warning before shrugging slightly "Not my scene anyway." He was grateful you didn't pry, it was too soon and too late to explain everything at once.

Now that the awkward introductions were over he had the mind to look at you more closely. He knew he found you pretty before but now you'd grown to be beautiful, round features, now more defined by age and experience, illuminated by the gentle glow of the store lights. His staring a drastic change to his demeanor before, he wonders if you notice the slight changes in him too. In his own honest opinion he's only grown taller and you've apparently stayed the same, he bites back a smirk once he notices, tucking his hands in his pockets as he snorts. And like you knew what he was thinking you scoff and roll your eyes. The situation felt all too familiar.

Suddenly you step closer nudging his arm with yours as you look him up and down questionably, "You're not as touchy as you used to be the old you would've been slung over me by now." He only scoffs as you giggle to yourself at the memories, feeling fairly embarassed, and even more so because he knew he had to mentally tell himself not to when he officially recognised it was you in front of him.

"Yeah? Well I grew up." He says sarcastically pushing his hair behind his ear as he stands taller earning another laugh from you which rings nostalgically in his ears. He wonders if the either of you even grew up. You were still connected by the memories after all, is that the same concept allowed for feelings? He felt selfish for entertaining the thought, but for now he was happy to see your face again, it was a breath of fresh air from the constant buzz of his life. A life he felt he could leave behind if you stayed as close as you were now.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Devil And An Angel

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: During one of Tony's parties, both of your girlfriends tease you and try to tempt you into giving into your sinful desires.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral sex, Double Penetration, Dirty talk, Praise, Squirting, Dom Natasha/Switch Wanda/Switch Reader, Brief Aftercare.

General Masterlist

“Are you really not going to tell me?” you complain, looking between both your girlfriends with a small pout.

“You’ll find out soon enough Kotenok,” Natasha coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at the action before remembering how you were supposed to be acting grumpy.

“But why can’t I know now?” they laugh at how eager you are to find out what they are going to wear. Tony had decided to throw a party tonight, every couple/relationship must dress up as something together to change it up a bit and have some fun. The problem was, your two girlfriends were reluctant to tell you what they were dressing up as and assured you that anything you wore would be fine.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Wanda says while wrapping her arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now go and get ready and we’ll meet you at the party.” Grumbling, you left to go and get ready, imagining what they could have installed for you.

When you arrived at the party you had to give Tony his dues, the party looked amazing and it was a brilliant idea to have people dress up. You looked around trying to figure out what people were meant to be, smiling at how much effort everyone had put in. Steve and Bucky had dressed up as people from the 1940s, their old fashioned clothing probably from their youth. Peter and MJ were dressed as mad scientists, Peter fluffing his hair up to look crazy and constantly checking to see if it was alright, much to MJ’s amusement. Clint looked so done with the whole party despite it just starting, dressed up in a Santa costume that was from when he pretended to be the jolly man at Christmas for his children. Laura wore an elf hat and a simple dress that suited her, but she was too busy trying not to laugh at her husband. Tony and Pepper just looked incredible, their theme most likely meant to scream money and wealth.

Suddenly, you felt two people lean on your shoulders, their different perfumes invading your senses as you turned to look at them. On your left was Natasha who was dressed in a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, devil horns sticking out of her fiery red hair, black, smokey eyeshadow making her eyes pop and a sinister smirk on her face. Wanda was on your right, dressed in a white, flowy dress with a gold halo in her hair, a soft look on her face compared to Natasha. You chuckled at them, dressed as a Devil and an Angel on each of your shoulders.

“You both look beautiful,” the compliment causes them both to smile at you, the two of them having a turn to compliment your choice of clothing as well. You leaned in to give Wanda a kiss, innocent and sweet, and then turned to Natasha who had no shame in sliding her tongue into your mouth, a small moan escaping you at the action.

“Don’t be tempted by her,” Wanda whispered in your ear, her voice soft while her arm interlocked with yours. “Or there will be no reward later.” You stifled the noise that wanted to come out and just watched as Natasha winked at you before walking off.

Wanda and yourself followed behind and you had to try your hardest to not drift your gaze lower on Natasha’s back. The three of you ended up on a sofa talking with Steve and Bucky, them rambling on about a story from their past while you three nodded along. You were paying attention until Natasha moved closer, her mouth on your ear as her breath tickled the side of your face.

“Do you know how hard I want to fuck you right now?” she purred quietly, “Have you trembling with pleasure as I thrust my fingers deep inside you? Or even better, my cock.” You groan at her words, low enough that no one other than Natasha could hear, making her smirk in victory as she works you up. Her hand grips your thigh, squeezing the skin and moving up higher teasingly before drifting down to rest on your knee. “I could have you coming in my mouth right now in that bathroom,” her gaze travels to the ladies room on the other side of the room, your eyes following as they darken with lust. “Come on, let's have some fun,” she bites down on your ear while no one looks before pulling away and giving you a predatory look that sends another wave of arousal through you, your panties definitely soaked as you clench your thighs together.

After a few moments, Natasha excuses herself to the toilets, her eyes staying trained on you as she gets up and starts to walk away. You remember Wanda’s earlier words and reluctantly stay still in your seat. You know this is a test, Natasha staying true to her outfit and trying to get you to sin with her, give into her temptation and end up with a punishment equivalent to hell. That however doesn’t make it any easier as you suffer with the results of her dirty words and teasing.

You don’t realise that Steve and Bucky had left, leaving you alone with Wanda as Natasha waits out in the bathroom to see if you crack. Her touches are far more innocent that Natasha’s, her hands interlocking with yours, her thumb running over the back of your hand.

“You’re being such a good girl,” she whispers, the praise making you whine slightly. “I bet you’re so wet for us both right now,” your eyes widen at her words, not expecting her to be in on the teasing.

“I thought angels were supposed to be innocent and pure,” you say, hoping she’d stop the torment. She just lets out a low chuckle and smiles at you, making you nervous for what else was to come.

“The devil was an angel once,” she comments, her voice raspy and sultry, “Who says we can’t be tempted as well.” Her hand goes to your thigh, scratching through your clothing and even going as far as your inner thigh near your core to draw invisible patterns. Your breathing hitches and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything.

Soon Natasha returns, having given up waiting for you, and takes her seat to your left again. She notices the prominent blush on your cheeks and how your hand is gripping the cushion of the sofa, knuckles almost turning white.

“So Y/n,” Natasha starts, drawing your attention away from Wanda’s hand on your leg, “Are you enjoying the party?” you go to answer her question but your breathing stops when your thoughts change.

You’re tied to the bed while Natasha roughly kisses your lips, pulling out moan after moan as her tongue explores the roof of your mouth. Her hands grope at your chest, pinching and pulling at your nipples causing sighs to leave your lips. Wanda was in between your thighs, looking up at you with an innocent look, and licked a stripe up your core, her tongue gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the spy moves closer to you, her chest pressed up against your shoulder as she talks into your ear. “I’ll ask you one more time,” You look over to Wanda who has a sly grin on her face before Natasha grabs your attention again by sucking on your neck, “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” is all you could manage out in a breathless whisper, mind clouded with arousal and desire as both women relentlessly tease you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda whispers in your other ear, the hand that was teasing your inner thighs moving to drag her fingers over your clothed pussy under your dress, the fabric soaked with your arousal. “Because I'm sure there are more exciting things we could be doing,” you stifle a moan when she starts to circle your clit through your panties and move your hand to sit on top of hers.

“I just want to be good,” your whine has them both grinning, “I’ll do anything you want me to, just please let me be good for you.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Natasha drags you away towards the elevator to get to your shared apartment, Wanda quickly on your tail.

Once you reach the bedroom, Natasha immediately straddles you on the bed, her mouth descending onto yours as she roughly kisses you and slips her tongue into your mouth. The whole thing is hot, her hands tugging your hair to pull moans out of you, her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth while her hips grind down harshly onto yours as she uses you for her own pleasure for the moment. Instinctively, your hands go to her waist, guiding her movements as she ruts against you.

“Fuck,” she rasps out as you both pull away breathless, Wanda unzipping the spy’s dress as she climbs off your lap and passionately kisses the witch. You watch in awe as their tongues fight for dominance, hands roaming freely across each other's body as they undress each other. You can’t move, frozen on the spot as bare skin is exposed to you, Natasha’s red dress dropping to the floor while Wanda’s is pulled over her head and discarded carelessly somewhere. They wear lingerie matching their outfits, Natasha wearing a black and red lace set while Wanda has a gold and white one on.

“Enjoying the show?” Wanda teases, swaying her hips as they both crawl onto the bed to join you. Her lips crash to yours, nothing innocent about her now as her hands rid you of your clothes. Natasha is now behind you, her chest pressing into your back while she bites at your neck, littering you with purple and red marks and sighing wantonly against your ear to make you shudder. Wanda’s hands cup your breasts unceremoniously as you revel in the pleasure, her running her fingers over your hardened nipples and tugging playfully. You lean your head back onto Natasha who moves to nibble on your ear, her hand coming up to rest on your throat, a pitiful moan escaping you.

“Don’t worry Kotenok,” She purrs, “You’ll get what you want soon.” You can feel her smirking into your skin as your hips buck at the contact of her knee slotting between your legs. “But first Wanda has a question, Don’t you Wands?” Her green eyes snap over to the witch who pulls back from the sloppy kiss with you, her cheeks flushed and eyes darkening.

“How do you feel about you and Nat fucking me at the same time?” she whispers against your lips and your eyes widen at the question.

“Fuck that would be hot,” you sigh out, imagining Wanda in between you and the spy as you pound into her from both sides. “Are you sure you want that?” She bites her lip at you sultrily and nods her head before moving forwards to press her lips back to yours.

“On your back baby,” she husks out between kisses and you move away from them both to lay on your back near the top of the bed. Wanda kisses down your body, licking over the marks Natasha made soothingly before ghosting her hot breath over your nipples and then kissing your inner thighs that were slick with your desire for them. “I’m going to give you your reward for being so good for us,” Her breath fans over your core, your hips bucking at the feeling which causes her to place a strong hand on your hip to keep you still. She licks through your folds, her tongue swirling around your clit while her free hand moves to be near your entrance. Her fingers gather your wetness before she thrusts two fingers straight into you, your back arching off the bed as you let out a guttural moan. Her mouth sucks at your clit while she pumps her fingers into you, your hands fisting in her hair as she eats you out

Moans pour out of your mouth when she curls her fingers and you almost scream when you feel her moan into you loudly. Your eyes wander away from the brunette between your thighs and to the redhead behind her. You hear a click of a bottle and assume she’s used some lube to ease one of her fingers into Wanda’s tight hole and let her get used to the feeling and stretch. Wanda’s face moves to kiss at your thigh for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling of something in her ass before continuing to reward you. You softly stroke her hair and let her take her time and watch as Natasha moves to have Wanda sit on her face, her finger slowly stretching her tight hole out.

The room then fills with your moans and Wanda’s muffled ones as Natasha brings her close to coming and manages to work her up to having three fingers pumping in and out of her ass. Your legs tighten around Wanda’s face as you come with a scream, body spasming with pleasure as you ride out your high grinding against the witches mouth. She follows soon after, clenching around Natasha’s fingers and tongue as she screams into you, biting down on your inner thigh to muffle the scream. The feeling was painful but also pleasurable and you’re certain you're going to have a dark mark there later on.

Natasha moves from under her, not wanting to overstimulate her, and carefully pulls her fingers out. You pull Wanda up your body, peppering kisses over her face as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You did so well for us,” you praise, still breathless from your own mind blowing orgasm as you talk to her. She hums in response and slowly kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. “Are you still up for us both?” you whisper against her lips, your hands stroking her back as she presses her body weight onto you.

“Yeah,” she murmurs back and you see Natasha move to get the strap ons before lubing them both up so it doesn't hurt her.

“Remember your safewords?” Natasha asks while Wanda gets off you so you can put the harness on.

“Green for ok, Yellow for slow down and Red for Stop,” Natasha smiles at Wanda softly then pecks her lips and helps guide her to hover above your plastic cock. Your hands move the tip of the toy to rub against her clit teasing before letting her sink down onto it. She moans lewdly as her hips meet yours and slowly starts to rock back and forth. She braces her arms next to your head and moans into a kiss as you thrust up into her gently, her hips starting a rhythm with yours.

Natasha soon has her harness on and moves to kneel behind Wanda while her hands slow her movements down. You whisper comforting words to the brunette, checking if she’s still ok by asking her for a colour, as Natasha slowly pushes the head of the toy into her ass, a loud gasp leaving the witch as she screws her eyes shut. You’re both patient as you let Wanda adjust to the toy, Natasha soon having the whole toy inside her and letting the pain fade to pleasure.

Experimentally, Wanda moves forwards slightly then pushes back, a low groan escaping her as she enjoys the feeling of Natasha and yourself deep inside her. Natasha starts a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of her while you swallow her moans with your mouth and thrust your hips up into her. Soon Wanda starts to move in time with you both, as soon as you pull out, Natasha pushes in and vice versa and her moans become louder.

“Fuck,” she moves to lean backwards against Natasha, who wraps a firm hand around her middle to keep her upright, while your hand moves to circle her clit. “Harder,” She sighs out, the two of you listening and increasing the force at which you pump your hips into her. “Faster,” the sound of skin slapping echoes around the room as you pound into her from underneath and Natasha snaps her hips against her. Wanda’s breasts bounce with each thrust and her legs start to shake as she nears her orgasm. “Please, I’m so close, don't stop,” begs tumble out her mouth as her hips move frantically between the two of you.

With a loud scream, liquid gushes out of her around your cock as she comes, her hips stuttering as her hands grip behind her onto Natasha to stop her body from collapsing forwards. You both slow down your thrusts as she rides out her high, her legs spasming around you while her hands fall off the spy to rest on your chest while she pants for breath. Natasha kisses along her neck and back while she calms down and when you see her wince at the feeling of being so full, you motion for Natasha to slowly pull out. She whines at the motion and soon moves off your lap to lay on the bed next to you.

You quickly discard the harness while Natasha moves to the bathroom to start a bath for you three and pull the witch close to you to murmur praise to her. Her body naturally moves towards you, her face tucked into your neck as she tries to fall asleep, her body exhausted from coming so hard. When Natasha returns, you carry her to the bath and gently lower her in and climb in behind her so she can lean back into your embrace. Natasha also climbs in, helping clean Wanda off and start her aftercare before quickly washing herself from any sweat.

“Are you ready for bed milaya?” Natasha murmurs into the witch’s hair after placing a soft kiss. She nodded back sleepily and the spy helped her dry off before taking her to bed. You quickly drain the tub and dry off yourself before joining them in bed. Wanda curls her body into Natasha but when she feels your presence next to her, she moves her hand back in search of yours and she places it around her middle. You smile at her drowsy actions and kiss them both goodnight before drifting off to sleep.

[soulofapatrick]

Safe in your Arms - Alec Lightwood x female reader 

Summary: You can’t sleep so you slip into bed with Alec

Words: 1.7K 

Warnings: none really 

Notes: This is written from female pov (my pov) however can be read as gender neutral so will put this story in both male and female reader 

Y/N’s POV

The darkness presses in around me, suffocating and heavy. Another sleepless night grips me tightly, refusing to release its hold. With a sigh, I rise from the bed, the covers slipping off my like unwanted shackles. 

Padding down the familiar corridors of the Institute, my footsteps echo softly against the stone floors. The hushed whispers of the night greet me, a comforting presence in the solitude. Each door I pass I hesitate, unsure who I’m looking for comfort in. 

I barely pause outside Clary’s room as we’ve never seen eye to eye so I continue on, finding myself outside Izzy’s door. The familiar, faint scent of jasmine wafting though the air. She's always been a source of strength and support, but tonight, the idea of seeking refuge in her embrace feels somehow... wrong, too intimate. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something holds me back, a silent voice urging me to continue my search elsewhere.

Jace’s door looms ahead, a silent invitation beckoning me to seek shelter within his presence. For a moment, I hesitate, my hand hovering over the door handle as memories of shared laughter and whispered secrets flood my mind. But then, with a heavy sigh, I pull away, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down upon me like a leaden cloak.

My fingers ghost over Simon's door, the thought of seeking solace in his company tempting yet ultimately unfulfilling. We may share a bond forged in battle, but there's a divide between us that I can't seem to breach. With a sigh, I move on, the ache of loneliness gnawing at my heart with each passing moment.

And then, finally, I find myself standing outside Alec’s room, the door a silent barrier between me and the solace I seek. With a hesitant hand, I push the door open, the soft creak of hinges breaking the silence like a whisper in the night. 

Inside, the room is bathed in a gentle glow, the moonlight filtering through the curtains casting shadows across the floor. Alec lies asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. For a moment, I simply stand there, drinking in the sight of him. Gone is the usual tension that seems to etch lines into his features during the waking hours. Instead, his face is softened by slumber, his expression serene and unguarded. The furrow of his brow, which often accompanies his deep concentration or stern demeanour, is smoothed away, replaced by an air of tranquility.

A small smile graces his lips, a sight so rare it’s almost surreal. It’s a stark contrast to the usual scowl that seems to be his default expression during the day. In this moment of vulnerability, his true essence shines through, a gentle warmth that draws me in like a moth to a flame. 

I find myself captivated by the peacefulness that radiates from him, the subtle rise and fall of his chest a soothing rhythm that lulls me into a sense of calm. It's as if all the worries and burdens of the world have been momentarily lifted from his shoulders, leaving behind only the purest essence of who he is.

In this moment, Alec is not the fierce warrior or the stoic leader. He is simply Alec, vulnerable and human, a reminder that even the strongest among us need rest and respite from the battles we face.

And as I gaze upon him, a small smile tugs at the corners of my own lips, mirroring the one that graces his face. I hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest, before I gently lift the duvet and slide into the bed beside Alec. The rustling of the sheets stir him from his slumber, his eyelids fluttering open blearily as he tries to make sense of the intrusion. 

“Wha—?" His voice is thick with sleep, the words trailing off into a soft murmur as he blinks owlishly at me. Confusion dances in the depths of his eyes, but there's also a hint of warmth, a flicker of recognition that warms my soul.

“What are you doing Birdie?" he mumbles, his words barely audible in the stillness of the room., the nickname he’s given me sending a shiver down my spine. Despite the grogginess that clouds his mind, there's a note of curiosity in his voice, a silent question hanging in the air between us. 

"I couldn't sleep," I confess quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper. "And... I needed to be near you.”

Alec’s expression softens at my words, a silent understanding passing between us. Without a word, he shifts around in the bed, making room for me to settle beside him. The duvet envelops us both in its warmth as we find our positions, his body fitting against mine like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. 

We settle into our newfound arrangement, a sense of peace washes over me, a warmth that seeps into my bones and drives away the chill of the night. In Alec's arms, I find sanctuary from the storms that rage within me, a refuge from the chaos of the world outside. And as sleep begins to claim me once more, I find solace in the knowledge that, for tonight at least, I am not alone. 

As the first rays of dawn  filter through the curtains, I gradually awaken from the depths of sleep, the heaviness of slumber clinging to my limbs like a comforting embrace. The warmth of Alec's presence envelops me, his arm draped protectively over my waist, anchoring me to the present moment.

I can feel the weight of his body pressed against mine, a comforting solidity that grounds me in reality. His unruly black hair tickles my cheek, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips pressed against my shoulder where my shirt has slipped slightly.

Alec emits a soft snuffle in his sleep as I gently begin to scratch his scalp, the motion soothing both him and me. His breath is warm against my skin, a gentle rhythm that lulls me back into a state of tranquility. 

He shuffles around as he begins to slowly slip from sleep, his brilliant blue eyes fluttering open, revealing a sleep-ridden expression that tugs at my heartstrings. There’s a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that I've rarely seen in him before. And as his eyes meet mine, a flicker of recognition dances in their depths, as if he's just now realizing that I'm here, lying beside him. 

For a moment, we simply stare at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us. And then, slowly but surely, a small smile tugs at the corners of Alec's lips, a gesture so tender and genuine that it sends my heart soaring. 

Alec brushes the hair out of my face, his touch gentle, his fingers singing against my skin as if committing the moment to memory. I can feel the intensity of his gaze as he studies my face, his eyes searching for something, perhaps an answer to the question that lingers between us. 

And then, without warning, he moves forward, his face hovering just inches from mine. My breath catches in my throat as anticipation coils within me, every nerve in my body on edge with anticipation. 

And then, finally, his lips crash against mine in a kiss that sends shockwaves coursing through my veins. It’s everything I've ever imagined and more, his lips soft and plump against mine, fitting together with a perfect symmetry that feels like coming home. He rolls us from our sides so he’s leaving over me, his weight above me feeling right, perfect almost, as if we were always meant to be in this position. 

His kisses are a revelation, each one tasting of warmth and longing, a tantalising blend of sweetness and desire that leaves me breathless. I can feel the heat of his body pressing against mine, his warmth seeping into my skin and sending shivers racing down my spine. 

With every touch, every caress, I lose myself in the sensation of him, the feel of his lips against mine, the brush of his fingers against my skin. He smells of sandalwood and strawberries, a heady combination that fills my senses and leaves me intoxicated with desire. 

In this moment, with Alec pressed against me, every nerve in my body tingles with anticipation. It's as if the world around us fades away, leaving only the two of us in our own little universe, bound together by the intensity of our connection.

But, just as our passion threatens to consume us, a quiet knock at the bedroom door shatters the fragile bubble we've created. Alec lets out a quiet groan, his head falling to my shoulder in frustration before he clears his throat and calls out, "One second!” 

As he climbs out of the bed to open the door slightly, I sit up, the sheets rustling around me, betraying the fact that Alec's not alone. My heart races with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, unsure of what awaits us on the other side of that door. 

And then, as Alec peers out into the hallway, his expression unreadable, I catch a glimpse of blond meaning it’s Jace standing in the corridor, his presence casting a shadow over our moment of intimacy. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I realise that our time alone together may be coming to an abrupt end.

Alec hisses something to Jace before closing the door and turning back to me, his eyes raking up my body, blue eyes darkening before he’s shaking his head and asking, “Breakfast?” 

“Clothes then breakfast?”

“You can wear some of mine, then breakfast.” 

“Deal.” 

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[matryosika]

Attraction, obsession, infatuation

Pairing — Hyunjin and fem!reader Wordcount — 7,680 words Includes — Explicit sexual content. Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness. Smut warnings under the cut. Summary — It is easier to hate than to admit loving. Alternatively, where Hyunjin realizes he might be tired of pretending he doesn't want to be more than just your toy. Author's Note — First 2024 full story! One of my New Year's resolutions was to keep on writing, since the last two years have been a bit too rough with my creativity and, overall, life. I hope I can continue posting stuff this year, but I literally can't ignore the fact that I am graduating college this June and that the adult life is, inevitably, catching up to me. Still, writing is something I love so I am determined to take this hobby very seriously, since it's one of the few things I enjoy! I hope you like this, please remember that english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes in advanced. If you wish to support my work, please leave a comment, reblog or ask 💌 Post divider by @/cafekitsune

Smut Warnings — Dirty talk, (very) mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking and deep throating, voyeurism, female (solo) masturbation), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, marking (and mentions of pain), dacryphilia, creampie.

Humiliating.

There is no other way to describe the situation that perfectly.

[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: Seems like you got yourself a new toy]

[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: You don’t want to play with me anymore?]

[21:20 p.m., Hyunjin: I mean, we both know why you agreed to come here in the first place. It's not like you're the best of friends with any of my roommates, anyways.]

You hate how right he always is —how shamelessly he speaks, how pridefully he carries that ego of him. 

People say there is a thin line between hatred and love, but they never talk about how tempting it is to walk on it. Especially because said line doesn't involve any of the former—if anything, that line represents all the carnal pleasures. 

Pure lust.

[21:21 p.m., You: Please]

[21:21 p.m., You: You’re so full of yourself, you know that?]

Hyunjin rolls his eyes right in front of you, tongue poking through his cheek while he reads your messages.

[21:22 p.m., Hyunjin: That never seems to be a problem when you're in my bed]

It's a never ending bickering. A never ending teasing. 

Hyunjin has always loved the thrill of doing things he isn't supposed to —no wonder why he ended up fucking you, out of all the women he knows. 

Attraction, obsession, infatuation. 

No amount of words could describe what happens between the two of you.

[21:23 p.m., You: I’m busy, in case you haven’t tell]

His cheeks grow hotter, killer eyes darting between you and the man you're talking to; appearing all sweet, gentle, collected, and everything you're not when you are with him. Your hand lays peacefully over your companion’s thigh, playfully hitting it when he says something remotely funny. 

Your smile hasn't worn off since you entered the party, and Hyunjin genuinely wonders if you’re that happy and comfortable to be around any other man. Inevitably, he begins to wonder if you'd let him touch you like he does, kiss you like he has. He stares at you two for a little too long, and questions if you'd let that man do everything Hyunjin is entitled to do with you. 

Would you let him treat you like he can? Let him fuck you like he does?

He chugs down the alcohol from his cup and uses that as an excuse to calm his masochistic urges, walking away from the scene he has been staring at for almost 10 minutes now. 

It's like pouring lime over a wound, like pulling out a loose tooth. It hurts, but it makes him feel something.

“If you didn't hate her I would say you're totally drooling over her,” a black-haired man that smiles teasingly with his eyes is quick to ambush Hyunjin as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“What? Did your date get tired of you too early tonight?”

Changbin’s tongue pokes his cheek, and he can’t help but smile at Hyunjin’s moodiness. “She went to the bathroom, I just came here for some drinks”. 

“Well, get to it,” Hyunjin commands, stretching his shoulders in an attempt to release all the build-up tension over them.

“Man, you've been acting so out of your element lately,” Changbin remarks, placing a bottle of vodka and another of pineapple juice aside with two red solo cups. “You’re always in a fucking mood, this is actually the first time I see you outside your bedroom in like... a while”. 

Hyunjin won't admit it, but he is sulking. 

Because of college, because of work, because of things he can't begin to fix and because of you.

“Just busy, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry I can't spend all day sticking my dick in different holes and doing an 8-hour shift at the gym”. 

Changbin scoffs bitterly under his breath, nose flaring at his friend's harshness. “Maybe that's exactly what you need,” he nods, pouring a drink for himself and his date, “a good fuck”.

He rolls his eyes. 

Yeah, maybe he needs that, but he also needs for you to stop touching your date's thigh, laughing amusingly loudly like you want him to hear how much of a great time you're having. Maybe Hyunjin needs to relieve all his anger on you, or he just needs for you to spare him a fucking glance because you haven't even looked at him since you walked in.

“Yeah,” he finally exhales, stealing the vodka bottle from Changbin’s grip to pour some onto his cup. He chugs it down quickly, and clears his throat when he feels the liquid burning inside, “that’s what I need”. 

Changbin pats his right shoulder and abandons the kitchen when he spots his date closing the bathroom door behind her. And Hyunjin is left alone once again, wondering if it's time to ditch the party and lock himself inside his room or if he should hurt himself a bit more to get a grip on reality.

Inconveniently, he chooses the latter. Resting his hips against the kitchen counter, and turning his back on the full view of the living room, Hyunjin begins to thread a line of questions that may never have a proper answer. 

Had he met you in another context, and in a distinct light, would things be different? Would your dynamic be different?

Maybe he would've apologized when he had time, for all the useless bickering that always took place between the two along the friend group. Had he surrendered to your stubbornness, rather than putting up a fight like it's typical from him, would the anguish be less?

Now that he reflects on it, Hyunjin can't even tell why you two hate each other these days. He never questioned it, the hatred you felt for each other, but he no longer knows why it's still there. Maybe it was a first impression, maybe it was a dumb comment or joke he cracked when you were introduced to the friend group. Maybe it was the fact that you two are so alike, personality wise, that you never seemed to get on.

Maybe you keep on hating each other because that's how it always has been, because there hasn't been a room to question the "what if's". 

Or maybe you hate him just for being him, and the only thing you've come to mend with is the fact that he is nothing more than a good fuck.

His heart aches because of this last thought, and he stares at his phone screen for a bit too long, hoping to get a text from you. But you're busy, you said it yourself, and he is just feeling out of place. 

“Hey,” the familiar voice it's enough for him to lift up his eyes from his phone, encountering a sheepishly grinning, red-eyed Jisung. “Changbin told me you’re in a mood, again”.

“He should put his mouth to good use,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. 

“He is worried about you though,” his friend says. “We all are, you know”. 

Hyunjin sighs, “I’m fine”. 

“Dude, come on,” Jisung drags his words lazily. “It’s about her, right?”

He shoots a killer gaze at him, “about who?”

If Jisung hadn't been higher than the fucking Empire State, he would've considered Hyunjin’s gaze a threat. But his mind is not precisely paying attention to any social cues, so he proceeds to say your name as a response. 

"You should stop smoking that shit ever so often, you know?" he spits in annoyance, "it's making you delusional".

“Yeah, right man,” Jisung nods. “And you can keep being angry with the world just because you can't be angry with her”. 

It disgusts Hyunjin how poetic that sounds, but his friend isn't too far from the truth —he would much rather project his anger and annoyance onto everyone else before you.

Because if you call, if you look for him, if you text him and ask him to see you, he will always be available. Even when he is not. Even when he has a ton shit to do. Even if all you want is his dick and a couple of dirty words. 

Every time you ask, Hyunjin will give you anything you want.

“We don't have to talk about her though. Just wanted to check up on you,” his friend continues after an excruciatingly long silence, patting one of his shoulders like Changbin did before. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, anyways,” Hyunjin says.

“Are you on, like, bad terms?” 

“We’re not on any terms,” again, the urge to deny everything. It's always easier to pretend nothing it's going on than admitting there's a huge fucking elephant in the room. “We fuck, occasionally, and that's it. Not friendship, not intimacy, not trivial conversations about each other's days”. 

“Well, that's some sort of the ideal to a fuck buddy relationship,” Jisung tilts his head. “It’s supposed to work”. 

It should. 

And it did, for a while —when the feelings were minimum and could be repressed, when the anger only translated to hatred and annoyance, and not jealousy and possessiveness.

These days, it's just not enough.

“Yeah well,” Hyunjin scoffs bitterly, holding the almost empty bottle of alcohol to his lips. 

Thank God he isn't a light weight, because he would've been screwed by now. Vodka isn't his greatest match, but neither are you and he knows he has to sacrifice something tonight —whether it’s his rationality or his heart. 

“Alright,” he finally exhales, pushing the empty bottle away from the edge of the counter. “I’m going back to my room”.

"Already?"

“That's the beauty of people using your apartment to host a fucking party, I guess,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to one of the kitchen pantries to grab his favorite bottle of wine. “You can just walk a minute and be in the comfort of your own bed”. 

“Haven’t you drunk too much?” Jisung asks. 

“Definitely not enough,” the dark-haired replies, grabbing both the bottle and a glass with one of his hands. “Tell Jeongin to kick everyone out by 2, I’m not paying for another noise complaint again”. 

And as he makes his way to his room, it's inevitable for Hyunjin not to spare a glance at the couch you were once sitting on. But his eyes meet Changbin and his date instead, without any trace of you or the man you were with. And he doesn't know if he should feel relieved or worried because you're no longer in his eyesight, and as comforting as that thought should be is nothing more than anguish-inducing.

He says goodbye to some of his friends, and also deals with Changbin’s insistence to stay around before he is able to lock himself inside his room. It was, at best, a 3 minute situation from the kitchen to his bed, but it felt like ages. Mostly because his eyes kept on scanning the whole apartment, hoping to find something that could tell him you're still there and you didn't leave the party with that man although you probably did. 

Much to his surprise, when he opens the door to his room, he finds you sitting at the edge of his bed.

You don't say anything, and neither does he. So you two stare at each other for a while before Hyunjin closes the door right behind him, leaving the wine and glass on a small table by the door.

“Wine? At a college party?” You finally interrupt the silence, using that playful, teasing tone you always use when you want to get on his nerves. “You really are something else”. 

Typical Hyunjin would think of a comeback rather quicker than the speed of light —he has always been witty and good with his words, and that's something you find utterly, despicably attractive in him. 

But after 4 shots of vodka and an unamusing mood, all he wants it’s to kick you out and plop down onto his bed. 

“Weren’t you busy?” he asks in a murmur, too lazy to make himself be heard. But it is loud and clear for you to hear, even with the bustling coming from down the hall.

“He bored me,” you admit. “Kept talking about his football team, and how he is going to work at his father's company once he graduates”. 

Hyunjin lets out a bitter and quiet scoff, giving you his back while he pours some wine onto his glass. You can’t fool him, even if you try like right now.

But he attempts to ignore his rapid heartbeats by keeping a nonchalant, even annoyed countenance, albeit a part of him can't ignore the fact that you're in his room. 

Just you and him, finally.

“Are you going back to the party or…”

“I’m tired,” he cuts you short, chugging down the wine like it's a shot of anything else. Can't care less about etiquette when all he wants is to lose his sobriety along with his rationality. “I want to sleep”. 

“It’s 10:30,” you tease him, cocking one of your eyebrows and giving him that look that always makes him feel ridiculous.

On any other day, that would've been fuel to erase that smile off of your face by pushing it onto the pillows while he fucks you from behind.

Tonight, though, it just blatantly stings. 

“So?” The coldness in his voice makes you shudder, and when he doesn't respond like he usually does it's when you realize there's something different going on.

You and Hyunjin don't share that kind of intimacy. You don't tell him your problems, and he doesn't tell you his problems either. You don't comfort each other through words or romantic touches. You don't give words of encouragement and you don't talk things through.

If there's something to say, you do so through sex. 

But right now, that you've interrupted his night, you feel somewhat compromised to ask if he is alright.

“Bad day?”

Bad week, bad month, bad year, a bad fucking life.

“Don’t have to act like you care,” Hyunjin says, resting his hips against the furniture while he pours himself another glass of wine.

The comment catches you off-guard. First and foremost, because you're not quite sure you don't care about him at all. And second, because he is making it seem like you are the reason behind his bad mood.

But if he doesn’t want to talk, you’re not going to force him to. After all, you’re in his room for one reason, and one reason only. 

“Shit, sorry for asking,” you murmur, gripping the edge of the bed sheets with both of your hands. It's a common ground you've walked in, thousands of times. You've been in his bed for far more times than you can remember, and you've fucked a lot more than you can count. So you're not afraid of asking the question: maybe you should release some stress?

Hyunjin knows what you mean. He knows the sexual connotations of it, and knows that’s exactly the reason why you're in his room. 

On any other day, Hyunjin would've taken your word. But right now, when his eyes can only focus on the crimson bruise on your neck, the proposition enrages him.

He walks towards you, completely towering over your figure. One hand holds the glass of wine, while the other cups your face and maneuvers it harshly, leaving the hickey for him to see. 

“He bored you?” The way he spits such a question makes your heart skip a beat. Don’t leave a rough mark, you told the guy, just a faint hickey. Of course he wouldn’t care, and neither did you —otherwise you would’ve checked yourself in the mirror before approaching Hyunjin wearing someone else’s lovebites, “or he just wasn't the one you wanted to fuck tonight?”

You move your head away from his touch with a swift movement, immediately missing the warmth of his skin against yours, "does that even make a difference?"

But it doesn't.

In the end, you only look for him because you want a good fuck and it seemed like your date just couldn't get the job done.

Not because you want him, particularly. 

“No,” Hyunjin replies coldly. “But you should at least have some decency, you know?”

You know he isn't teasing you, like he always does. He is not saying all this to get a reaction from you, and that unsettles you.

He is acting and saying such things because he means them. Because he feels like them.

“Since when do you care about what I do or I don't?” you ask him, the tone in your voice increasing as Hyunjin’s gaze intensifies.

“You can do whoever the fuck you want,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to grip at the edge of the furniture behind him.

“Well, I want to do you”. 

“Maybe tonight I don’t,” Hyunjin gulps down the wine, having a way harder time swallowing the euphoric sensation of his ego rather than the alcohol coming down his throat.

 And you stare at him like he just said something controversial. Something weird, something unusual coming from him.

“You’re lying,” you say, darting him a challenging look. “You always want me”. 

“Why would I want something that everyone can have?” 

It’s his anger talking. His rage, his uncertainty, his jealousy. 

You're not wrong. He wants you, he always has and most likely always will. 

But he is too proud to admit it, both to you and himself. Especially after you’ve walked into his room with the ghost of another man’s hands and lips, wearing a mark on your skin that will never compare to how Hyunjin has been allowed to mark you.

“So that’s the issue?” you defy him, standing up from the edge of his bed to walk forward. “You’re acting like this just because I was with someone else?”

Your mocking tone makes it seem like it's something ridiculous and irrational, but you've aced your initial hypothesis.

You are the reason behind his bad mood.

“Just get out,” Hyunjin says, tense jaw and cold eyes locked into yours. “You're getting on my nerves”. 

Your tongue pokes through your cheek and you look at him in disbelief —you feel taken aback because of how he is acting, and you want to blame it on the alcohol he has ingested throughout the night. But he looks sober, and way more serious than his immature facade has ever made him appear.

“If I wanted to be with someone else tonight, I would’ve left your apartment a fucking hour ago,” the boldness in your voice only challenges Hyunjin to this staring contest he didn't know he is playing. Without blinking, without parting his gaze away, all his undivided attention is on you, and the way you're spitting your words like you're truly the one with a reason to be angry. 

Needless to say, your audacity only infuriates him further.

“If you wanted to be with me, you would’ve come into my room the second you step a foot into the apartment,” he shoots back, straightening his body against the furniture and causing it to move an inch closer to you, “I mean, you know the way well, don’t you?” 

He raises one of his eyebrows, and it’s embarrassing. 

Pathetically embarrassing. 

Stupidly idiotic.

“You've crawled on all fours from the door to my room before,” Hyunjin continues, tilting his head while his gaze falls from your eyes to your parted lips, “I'm sure that was enough for you to remember the path fairly well”. 

It was one time, you say to yourself. And you'd rather die than having to admit such a humiliating thing to anyone other than him. 

You'd rather die than having everyone know what you allow Hyunjin to do to you. You'd rather disappear into thin air than having to deal with the judgemental gazes from all of your friends.

The Hwang Hyunjin? The one you say you can't stand? The one that gets on your nerves because of how childish he is? The one you tell your friends you'd turn down a thousand times even if he was the last man standing on earth?

“Go fuck yourself, Hwang,” you're so close to him you can practically taste the red wine off of his lips. You're breathing the same air, hearts beating at the same rate.

You want him worse than you wanted him before —you like the feeling of his jealousy and his possessiveness. You like it when his hatred towards you transforms into hatred to anyone who dares to touch you; no one is allowed to have you like he is entitled to, and no one is allowed to hate you the way he does.

So he leaves the empty glass of wine behind, and guides one of his hands to your heated cheeks. He caresses it, pushing away the hairs from your face —the intimate touch might feel out of place and context, but you know damn well it's nothing more than the calm before the storm. 

A calling.

A warning.

You know Hyunjin more than you'd ever want to admit, and you crave him worse than you'd ever allow yourself to think.

"God fucked you up by giving you this shitty ego,” he murmurs, brushing his lips ever so slightly against yours. It seems as if Hyunjin walked right into your trap without knowing, blinded by instincts and completely ignoring the awful show you put up earlier with a man you don't even know his name, “and he fucked me up even more for making me like it”. 

It all happens in a fraction of second, too fast for you to catch some air and too sloppy for you to get the kiss right.

You're tasting the red wine, and his rage, and the longing lust you are always demanding from him whenever your body is against his. He kisses you ardently, teasing your tongue and biting your lower lip trying to fill you up just with him —to get rid of whoever kissed you first that night, and to intoxicate you with all of him for whoever will kiss you next.

One of his hands wraps around your figure, pressing you tighter against him, while the other swims through the roots of your hair, already in position to manhandle you like he knows he can.

The way he knows you want him to.

And you don't stop him when you feel the sting in your scalp, forcing you to break the kiss and down to your knees right in front of him in a careless way that will probably leave bruises.

“Said you wanted to do me?” Hyunjin asks, unzipping his pants with his available hand while the other holds your head still, despite your efforts to wipe away the drool from your lips and the hair sticking to your cheeks with his spit. “I’m right fucking here, do me”. 

You look at him with loathing but it is nothing more than a projection: you hate yourself for how much you needed this. 

For how much you need him.

“Don’t give me those eyes,” he falsely pouts, but the sound gets drowned in a grunt when he wraps his hand around his dick to stroke it a few times before guiding your mouth to the tip of it, “you want this”. 

His gaze finds yours in the midst of the struggle, and the only way you can think of letting him know you're consenting to this is by sticking your tongue out and licking the tip of his cock, collecting all his salty precum and tasting it like you've been starving for it.

At the sight, Hyunjin chuckles lowly. Still as cold, still as enraged.

“Did you suck him off too?” he asks, using the grip on your hair as his favor —with ease, he slams his hips against your mouth, letting the tip of his cock reach parts of your throat that are still tense. “Does he taste as good as I do?”

Hyunjin doesn't need to know that you planned this all along —that you purposely did everything to get him jealous. He doesn't need to know that you like the thrill of it, of watching his possessive and jealous side.

He doesn't need to know that you utterly adore when he fucks you like he actually hates you. Like you mean nothing and everything to him at the same time.

Hyunjin doesn't need to know a lot of things, so you tag along with the fantasy of everything you've yet to deny.

“Relax,” more than a soothing word, it’s an order. He maneuvers your head all along his length, applying more pressure when your nose hits his pubic bone and then forcing you away to let you breathe. “You’ve taken this cock before, you know exactly how to do it”. 

You try to regain control of your body, and your rationality, but it seems a rather useless task —when you're with Hyunjin, he is the one that does the thinking for you. When you're with him, you can't think of anything else but him, his voice, his eyes, the way he touches and kisses you, the way he tastes and the way he feels inside you.

“Too big,” you gasp in between thrusts of his hips against your lips. Your hand flies to reach the base of his cock, but he is quick to force you backwards with the grip on your hair.

“Do not touch me”.

“Hyun-”

“I said, do not touch me,” he repeats when you try to touch him again. “Do you really think you can go around touching other men and I won't do anything about it?”

Hyunjin wishes he wasn’t as prideful as he is —if he could swallow his ego easily, he could have your hands all over his body by now. But he is proud, and vengeful, and stubborn. No matter how much his skin is burning to feel the softness of yours against it, he needs to make his point.

“You’re- you can’t be serious,” you struggle between moans, with a voice so hoarse it's barely audible. 

“There’s the door,” he forces your head towards it, “you can leave if you don’t like it”. 

Your doe eyes, filled with anger and defy, dart between him and the door. Hyunjin is always the one in control, you're not really unfamiliar with that —the fact that he is acting like this, offering you a way out if you’re not willing to do things his way, makes you feel uneasy and curious.

You choose to stay only for the latter. Not because of anything else, right?

Right?

You don’t say anything, but fix your gaze on the man in front of you. 

And Hyunjin gets it, he gets the look you're giving him. That, paired with the fact that you're not doing anything to get away from his grip, tells him that you're more than willing to keep on going, so he continues manhandling you around.

“C’mere,” he mutters when guiding your head along his cock again, making you swallow him full without giving you any kind of warning whatsoever, “just like that”. 

You're gagging, and tearing up, and clearly struggling to take all of his cock. But never have you felt this hungry, and never have you felt this emptiness between your legs that only Hyunjin seems to be able to fill.

Your hands ache for his flesh, and so desperately you want to sink them on his thighs or ass; intertwine them with his, latch your fingers against his and squeeze them while you prove to him that he's the only one that gets to fuck your mouth like this. 

“Please,” you cry out when he gives you a break to catch some air, “I need- let me touch you, please”. 

"Should've thought of it before putting your hands on someone else," he hissed, brushing your hair wet with drool and tears away from your face. “Should’ve thought about me before running to another man”. 

“Hyunjin”.

Oh, how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips —especially when accompanied with sobs and whimpers. You're always so cool and collected, like you control everything and everyone around you. You never cry, never show anyone else a crevice of what you truly are, but he is the only one that gets to see you like this. The only one you really trust, the only one you give control to.

If you hate him that much, why do you always come crawling back to him?

If you hate him that much, why is he the only one that gets to use you like this?

And if you hate him that much, why can't Hyunjin forget what he truly feels about you?

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, cleaning your mouth and chin with the back of your hand. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I’m sorry”. 

“For what exactly?” He is so close to you, you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours and get drunk on the wine that lingers in his breath. He is so close to you, he almost can't resist the urge of crashing his lips against yours again and taste himself off of you. 

“I don’t know,” you look at him with teary eyes. You feel like crying, and Hyunjin can tell. “I don’t know, it’s just- I’m sorry, okay? If that’s what you want to hear, then I’m sorry”. 

His eyebrows furrow.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says. “Your apologies mean nothing to me”. 

Your heart stings, and it is unusual. He is unusual, painfully real unlike all the times you've pretended to hate each other just for the dynamic.

Blame it on the alcohol, or the stress he has been feeling lately, or the fact that you've been nothing but a brat these days, but Hyunjin is angry. And hurt.

“Your actions, on the other hand,” it's all he tells you with his bright eyes boring into yours. “I want you to show me how sorry you truly are”. 

“Wha-”

He maneuvers you from the floor to his bed, forcing you on your back against the sheets you've grown to know fairly well. Your body writhes under him, and you fight back the urges to wrap your arms around his neck and force his body close to yours. 

“How- am I supposed to show you?” you ask in between the struggle, moving your body to Hyunjin’s will. With your help, he unbuttons your jeans and scatters them along the floor, just like your blouse and underwear.

He lets out a soft scoff, blowing air through his nose, amused. "As if you don't know me that well".

And because you know him well, you can't avoid the eerie feeling of fear that settles up in the deepest pits of your chest when his cold gaze makes contact with yours.

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, with your heart ringing loudly in your ears.

“You should be asking what you're going to do for me, instead,” he murmurs, caressing the sides of your body with a creepy delicacy that doesn't match his demeanor at all. "Don't you want to be forgiven?" It's a rhetorical question, you know that much. And you do want to be forgiven, but you're not quite sure what twisted idea Hyunjin has of an apology. 

So you stay quiet, and hope for the best.

“You said you wanted me, right?” He asks yet again, fixing his eyes on yours. You just nod. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Yes,” you rush to say, “yes, I said I want you”. 

“How bad?”

The endless teasing is making you frustrated, but you're used to that. However, you're not used to feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes with each second that passes by.

You need him desperately. You need his kiss, and tongue, and hands on every part of your body that you'd never allow anyone else to touch.

No matter how much you say you dislike Hyunjin.

“So fucking bad,” you cry out, kicking you head back against the pillow.

Hyunjin hums, peppering wet and sloppy kisses over your tummy and inner thighs. You feel his breath so close to your wet center that you can only hope he gives you the attention you need. 

But that is not going to happen any time soon, and you know that.

“Fuck yourself,” he commands you, kneeling between your spread legs on top of his bed, “prove to me that you want me”.

You know the catch, know why Hyunjin is asking you such a thing.

He never does, unless he wants to punish you. And albeit not a rough punishment, there's nothing sweeter than watching you fall apart in frustration, to watch you deny yourself because he said so, to see you squirming in pain because you overstimulated yourself.

But then again, you'd do anything he says, just to be one step closer to him.

So you comply, with your index and middle finger shaking in anticipation as they make contact with your folds. Slowly but surely, you start fulfilling his demand —bitterly, with a look of disdain. 

One of his hands spread your legs further, and he stays kneeling between your thighs as he watches you. 

Impatient, eager, angry.

“I don’t have all day,” he finally snaps after a good 30 seconds of you just timidly teasing yourself. You can’t admit it out loud, but it is embarrassing —to have his eyes all over you but not his hands, to have your legs spread for someone who has no interest in touching you.

It's also embarrassing how wet you are by all of this. By his attitude, his anger and his jealousy.

“Sorry,” you barely mumble, sinking two fingers inside your throbbing pussy. 

You feel nothing. Not pain, nor pleasure. Just nothing.

“One more,” Hyunjin tells you and you comply. But after getting used to him and his size, nothing fills you up anymore. 

“You don’t- you don’t expect me to come just by this, do you?” You ask with a nervous scoff, biting down on your lower lip as you pull your fingers out just to thrust them inside again.

Hyunjin doesn't answer, and that only fuels your anguish even more. Instead, he fixes his eyes on your fingers, and the way they glisten with your wetness. He focuses on the sounds they make, and how warm you must feel after all the teasing.

You let out a whine, but it is not out of pleasure. It's a frustrated whine, a desperate one. You kick your head back, and fuck yourself harder with your fingers.

All your efforts are pointless.

“Don’t you dare,” Hyunjin warns you when your other hand slips to touch your clit. 

“I- I can’t just come with this,” you groan.

“How is that my problem?” 

It is humiliating —the way he is looking down on you, the way he is clearly amused by how stupid you must look right now touching yourself without feeling anything.

“Keep on going,” he tells you, licking his lips, “you won’t stop until you come”.

You shake your head and kick it against his pillow, trying to go impossibly deeper in hopes of finding that spot inside of you that only Hyunjin seems to know well.

Again, pointless.

“Come on,” you whine, now really on the brink of tears, “don’t do this to me”. 

“You did this to yourself,” he simply says, and his digits graze against your naked legs. 

The stimulation on your flesh is enough for you to clench around your fingers, and Hyunjin lets out a twisted smile when he sees the goosebumps flowering.

“Hyunjin”. 

“Can’t come by yourself?” He asks with a fake empathy, “you need me for that, right?”

You know where this is heading, and you’re willingly letting him lead you that way —you nod, swallowing thickly. 

“Yes,” you admit, hoping such a confession is enough to do something. Anything.

“Am I the only one who can make you come?”

“Yes, Hyunjin,” there's an inner conflict between your lust and your ego —you wish to fight back, but your mind is already surrendering. Your answer isn't far from the truth anyways, so why is it so difficult to admit it out loud? “Yes, you’re the only one”. 

“That’s what I thought,” he whispers quietly, dragging the tip of his digits along your spread thighs.

You’re aroused and whriting in anticipation, You’re aroused and trembling in anticipation, your whole body is ready for him, anything he wants to give you, and he can tell.

That's probably the worst part of it all —your mouth can always voice how much you hate him, but your body will keep on betraying you every time.

“I can’t,” you murmur, relentlessly trying to get yourself to your high, “I can't do this on my own anymore, you're the only one who can”. 

It's embarrassing to admit such a thing, both to him and yourself —it's not like you're saying so just to get what you want.

You're saying so because it's the truth, because not even you nor your toys can get you to come like Hyunjin does. 

“Remember that every time you even think about being with someone else,” Hyunjin’s body hovers over you, fitting perfectly between your open legs. “No one is going to make you feel like I can”. 

You drown a moan when you feel his clothed erection pressing against your folds. The fabric of his pants is rough, but your body unconsciously grinds on it.

“Just fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling his warmth spreading from your chest to your limbs, “please, please, please”.

He needs you just as much.

And his intention was never to deny you, but to remind you that you belong to him. Whether you want to admit it or not, whether you even know it —your body responds to Hyunjin, and Hyunjin only. 

“Patience is a virtue, you know?” He scoffs, sneaking a hand between your bodies to slide the tip of his dick against your folds, “I spent all night looking how someone else got his hands all over you”.

You tremble underneath him, begging for anything he might want to give you. 

“It wasn’t a pretty sight, you know?” Hyunjin continues, “it kills me that no one knows you're mine”. 

Your heart skips a beat at his rageful words, as you breathe the same oxygen that leaves his lungs. 

“Hyunjin”. 

“I hate the fact that I just can’t kiss you when I feel like it,” he presses his forehead against yours, taunting your lips with his. “Can’t even fuck you when I want, without caring if someone hears or not”. 

There's a pinch of frustration and despair in his voice. Like he is asking you to read between the lines, to give some sense to his words.

“We hate each other, don’t we?” You remind him, digging your nails in the flesh of the sides of his body.

“Do you really think this is hate?” He asks, and presses his hips against yours. You feel his hardened length getting coated with your wetness, and you can’t help but moan. 

“Everybody thinks we can’t stand each other,” you wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him to make a move. And as if on cue, he gets what you’re demanding —he slides the tip of his dick in, so easily that it's hard to believe your body wasn't perfectly made for him.

“But no one knows what we do behind their backs, do they?” He asks, grunting quietly when he finally bottoms out, “they don’t know how good we fuck each other, how good we make us feel”. 

It's not the time to pause and reflect about the dynamic you've shared with Hyunjin over the past year. It's also not the time to think about what could happen if you were to reveal to your closest friends what you and Hyunjin have. 

It's exciting to keep things a secret, but you're not quite sure how long you can go without one of you getting tired of it.

It's not the time, and you don't dwell on it because you soon feel Hyunjin's hips slowly pulling and then bottoming out again. The sudden hit of his pubic bone against your swollen clit sends shivers down your spine, and you hug him tightly against you.

“Because you make me feel so good,” he murmurs, leaving a wet trail of kisses from your lips, to your chin and jaw, “so fucking good”. 

You clench around him at his words, and he lets out a raw moan. 

“You too,” you swallow thickly, “you too- make me feel so good”. 

“Just me?”

“Just you Hyunjin- fuck,” you bite down the flesh on his shoulders when his hips snap against yours, making your whole body jolt, “like that, fuck me like that”. 

With painfully slow but hard strokes, Hyunjin pounds his dick inside your wet pussy.

The lewd noises it makes, paired with his skin hitting yours, drowns his bedroom. They also drown the bustle behind the door, the faint voices of those who are still outside partying and drinking.

Those who don't know how much you love fucking Hyunjin, and how much he loves fucking you.

“I have to make sure it's only me who gets to have you like this,” and with that being said, he sinks his teeth and nibbles at the flesh where burgundy and purple bruises rest. 

You arch your back in pain, feeling your neck burning. He holds you in place as you writhe beneath him, placing all his weight over you to prevent you from squirming away from him.

“It’s just a little pain,” his soft voice coos, grabbing the sides of your neck with one of his hands while his lips attack the love bites made by someone else, “nothing compared to what you made me feel tonight”.

Your heart starts beating faster at his words.

“I’m sorry,” tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you still let Hyunjin mark you. 

You want him to, anyway. No matter how painful it can be.

“I know you are,” he hums, satisfied with the way you’re clenching around him. 

He kisses your flesh softly, trying to soothe the pain away, and you move your hips, desperate to have him moving inside of you again.

He loses no time into it, holding his weight back off of you to continue on fucking you.

“You look so pretty now,” he twistedly smiles, with a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead and nose, “my lips and teeth look so good on you”. 

The minute he bites down his lower lip and his eyes go blank, you start feeling the tension building up inside your abdomen. You’re close, and you’re desperate to come.

“Hyunjin,” one of your hands holds his bicep, while the other makes a mess of the bed sheets beneath you.

“Not yet,” he warns you, and at that you let out a frustrated sound, “hold it a bit longer, come with me”. 

You close your eyes shut and kick your head back, hoping that if you don't look at him, you can prolong the time before you come. But he is fucking you so good, and his dick is hitting all the right spots inside of you, that you really don't think you can hold it as long as he wants you to.

“Please,” you cry out, this time tearing up. You can’t help it —the tears fall from your closed eyes without a warning. They stain your cheeks, and get lost in the crook of your neck that is still burning with Hyunjin’s love bites. 

“Open your eyes,” his hand cups your face, and you snap them open as a reflex, “let me see you crying”.

His words ignite a fire inside you, just as much as your tears do to him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clouded eyes and the way they beg for his release.

It’s the first time he sees you cry, 

and it shouldn't arouse him as much as it does. He knows what's behind those tears, and maybe that's the reason why he is enjoying them.

Frustration, rage, despair, attraction, obsession, infatuation.

He buries his nose on the flesh of your cheek and kisses your tears, one by one, as he continues pounding himself inside of you. 

“Can’t-” you murmur, digging your nails on his shoulders. Hyunjin hisses at that. “I can’t hold it”. 

“Give it to me,” he finally exhales, increasing the movements of his hips. And you comply —you give your orgasm to him, squeezing his cock almost aggressively. Your body trembles and he hugs it tightly, fucking you through your high as he comes with you.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” at one point, your body goes limp —the pleasure becomes too strong that you melt into his arms. 

He moans your name, over and over again, until his voice becomes a whisper, and his hips relax into yours. His body rests on top of you, hugging you, pressing kisses to your forehead and temples while you wrap your arms around him. He doesn't pull out, and you don't want him to —at least not yet.

Sex with Hyunjin always goes a little bit like this, but it never feels as intimate as it does right now.

Your sweating bodies are pressed against each other, and your hearts are beating at the same rate. Your mouth tastes like red wine, despite you not having drunk any, and Hyunjin’s chest smells like your perfume. 

The crescent moon-like imprints from your nails are still pulsing on his shoulders and back with desire, and your neck still burns with his possessiveness.

It seems as though you two are one, and it is impossible to deny it.

If hate is another synonym for infatuation, you might as well be willing to hate each other until death.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Navia, Yae, Lisa, Furina, Lumine, Hu Tao, Xinyan, and Shenhe's S/O getting scared by a story

No one requested this, I just wanted to write this scenario after rewatching Marble Hornets and I am TERRIFIED of closing my eyes now. I also feel incredibly old mentioning Marble Hornets. Did you know that web series is almost 15 years old now?

Navia has watched many theatre productions, but nothing regarding horror.

She personally isn't affected and finds them entertaining! (Because she's already dealing with the horrors of her normal life)

Her S/O on the other hand...

(Navia) "Archons, S/O! You're shaking! Was the story that scary?"

(S/O) "N-No I'm not...!"

Navia honestly can't help but laugh, not at S/O's terror, but just how cute they looked!

Plus, it made them sleep even closer to her, so no complaints are gonna be made!

Navia wraps her arms around S/O tightly.

(Navia) "Don't worry, S/O! I'm sure my gun can stop whatever tries to grab you in the night!"

(S/O) "I told you I'm not afraid! P-Plus, I don't think guns can stop a ghost- Wait, why are you making it sound like something will come?!"

(Navia) "I'm just saying for them to hear!"

S/O rolled their eyes as Navia laughed at their reaction.

Navia finds the whole situation makes S/O even more adorable in her eyes.

(Yae) "My goodness, S/O. If you had a tail, it'd be shooting straight up right now."

Yae didn't realize that S/O would be that affected by a simple scary story.

She could hear their heart racing as they tried to battle mentally that there were no such things as ghosts and whatnot.

Yae is half tempted to tell them what's around Inazuma, but figured that S/O doesn't need to die of a heart attack.

Not when she can inflict that herself.

(Yae) "Well if you are so brave, would you like to stay overnight by yourself at the Shrine? I am told you can see many things-"

(S/O) "P-PLEASE DON'T!"

Yae's hand covers her mouth as her eyes close from laughter.

(Yae) "I jest, little one. I am not that cruel."

(S/O) "Ugh, I knew you were just gonna tease me about this..."

(Yae) "Rest assured I will not frighten you anymore than I am right now...More than likely anyway."

Surprisingly, Yae does have them close to her whenever they are in private, holding them and making sure they're comfortable.

It takes every fiber in her being not to startle them and hear S/O yelp.

The things one does for love, but it'd also be really funny.

At that point it's a 50/50 whether Yae would terrorize or comfort S/O.

Horror wasn't a genre Lisa normally reads in the Library, but she does see the appeal of why people liked it.

S/O on the other hand despised the story they read.

Not that it was terribly written. Evidently it was too well written, since S/O was sleeping with candles lit in their bedroom.

(Lisa) "Dear if you're so scared, why did you read it?"

(S/O) "W-Well, I...thought I'd look braver if I finished it."

Lisa giggled and held their hands.

(Lisa) "It certainly is making you cuter.~"

Out of curiousity, she did start reading the book they had picked up whenever they were in bed together.

She could see S/O's eyes widen at the book and trying to refocus their attention away.

Meanwhile, Lisa was analyzing the book and seeing what had gotten them so scared.

(Lisa) "Is it because the story is supernatural, S/O?"

(S/O) "I mean, you can fight monsters! What do you do against a teleporting entity?!"

Lisa chuckled at their panic, and made sure to have one arm holding them.

When they were sleeping, S/O held onto Lisa for dear life.

Something she had no problem with. Maybe she should get them to read scary stories more often.

(Furina) "Aaaaw, are you scared, S/O?"

Furina teased, making S/O pout.

(S/O) "I-It creeped me out a lot, alright?! Just don't rub it in my face."

(Furina) "Come now, S/O! I will not take lightly of your mental affliction from this story! In fact, I will read it tonight and show you that you have nothing to fear!"

ONE SCARY STORY LATER

Furina and S/O sat quietly on the bed, with an aquatic familliar emitting a bright light nd illuminating the room.

Even though it was time for bed.

(Furina) "..."

(S/O) "...It freaked you out too, didn't it?"

(Furina) "D-Do not be absurd! I simply just think that the room was too dark-"

The door suddenly creaked open, which made the two of them immediately hold each other in absolute terror.

(Furina) "H-Hey, S/O! Um...I think tonight is an amazing time to become closer as lovers by never letting go, do you not agree?"

(S/O) "Y-YUP!"

The two of them shivered the corner of their bed, essentially sleeping with one eye open, and a gaggle of hydro familiars guarding the door all night.

They could not sleep properly for nearly a week, but it did bring them closer.

In which that they did not leave each other alone for a single second the moment the lights when off due to being scared out their minds.

(Lumine) "I didn't know you liked scary stories, S/O."

(S/O) "I don't..."

Lumine raised an eyebrow at the book, then put it down on the bedroom drawer.

(Lumine) "So, why did you read it?"

(S/O) "I thought it'd be interesting to talk with you about a story! I know you've always told me about your adventures and...I wanted to tell you a story."

Lumine's heart melted, bringing in S/O for a kiss on the cheek.

(Lumine) "I appreciate it S/O. Anyways, what's it about?"

S/O gained a confidence boost after the kiss and began telling her what the story entailed.

Only to watch their reaction drain as they explained it, recalling the bits of horror and Lumine being able to tell what part exactly terrified them.

(Lumine) "Hah, I think that's enough S/O. Honestly, it's kind of freaking me out too-"

(Paimon) "Yeah, now's not the time for-"

(S/O) "AWUAAAGH!?"

S/O leapt from the side of their bed and into Lumine's arms after Paimon had suddenly appeared.

(Lumine) "WOAH!"

(Paimon) "ACK! S/O, it's just Paimon!"

(S/O) "D-DON'T DO THAT WHEN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT GHOSTS!"

(Lumine) "Huh...I guess Paimon is like one-"

(Paimon) "Paimon is very much alive!"

Lumine lovingly held S/O close to her chest, ensuring that they were safe.

She was the traveler, and she could take on ghosts!

Lumine did have to leave out the fact she actually fought ghosts in Tevyat, however.

Especially Tsurumi Island. Her entire adventure there would probably convince S/O to never leave the teapot ever again and stay glued to Tubby 24/7.

Hu Tao, being the gremlin she is, would love to scare S/O further.

(Hu Tao) "You're afraid of ghosts? I can introduce you to a few and dispel that notion!"

(S/O) "H-HU TAO, I SWEAR TO THE ARCHONS, I WILL-"

(Hu Tao) "Woah, woah, woah! No need to be like that! They just want to socialize!"

She absolutely loves seeing them trembling whenever she mentions the story. It was both cute and extremely amusing.

They tried to hide the fact that they were scared from her, but S/O was a terrible liar.

And Hu Tao wants to kick it into overdrive by cosplaying the monster that scared them.

But she was also sure that would result in her getting dumped, both figuratively and literally into the Harbor by S/O.

Shockingly, Hu Tao does employ self restraint if she recognizes that S/O was getting genuinely distressed by her pranks regarding the story.

Instead, she'll have to sadly deal with the very comfy and tight cuddles S/O gives to feel better.

How tragic.

(Xinyan) "You're scared a by a story, S/O? Sheesh, the heck was in that thing?"

Xinyan is a bit confused on how someone could get that terrified by a book.

But whatever, she can't judge.

Most people were afraid of her simply looking at them.

(Xinyan) "Hey, S/O! C'mere a sec! I got a nice song that'll blast all those scary thoughts away!"

Xinyan distracts S/O by playing her songs and just being in their vicinity more than normal.

Something she could tell they appreciated as they calmed down, especially in the dark.

Her hand grips around their arms strongly, giving them a reminder that she ain't afraid of no ghost!

And especially since it meant extra cuddles, Xinyan was willing to indulge them.

(S/O) "I hope this isn't too ridiculous, Xinyan-"

(XInyan) "Nonsense, S/O! This ain't that big'a deal. Besides I...think it's a bit cute."

(S/O) "What was that last part?"

(Xinyan) "A-Ah, don't worry 'bout it!"

Shenhe didn't like seeing S/O be afraid, regardless of the source.

Her focus becomes razor sharp and thinks S/O is being frightened by an actual ghost.

Upon realizing ghost-murder was not needed, Shenhe instead has S/O with her at all times.

(Shenhe) "If I may ask, why are you so afraid of a fictional story?"

(S/O) "It's...kind of hard to explain. Just the concepts in there terrify me..."

(Shenhe) "I do not fully get it, but I will do my best to make you not scared anymore."

While it is unfortunate S/O feels unease, it does bring her great comfort that S/O finds her mere presence comforting enough to not be afraid.

Maybe it was because she can perform exorcist arts, or because she was their lover.

Regardless of the reason, Shenhe will not falter for a single moment, always on alert for S/O's mood.

She seemed to distract them well, one of her methods proving highly effective, which was hugging them tightly.

That seemed to do the job everytime as she felt them relax into her hold.

Part of her wished it was an actual ghost so she could make them pay for making her S/O feel so scared.

If she could murder a ghost, she would.

[fallstaticexit]

The Mid Series Finale. That's right, we've made it to the halfway point in this series and dare I say, we're just getting started. I don't know about you, but I'm crying sobbing and throwing up 😔

prev / next

Olive: Be honest, was I your first girl?

Nancy: Would you be jealous if I said no?

Olive: Oh, I’d be sooo jealous.

Nancy: [chuckles] Am I your first girl?

Olive: No, but you are my best girl.

Nancy: You really are just so sweet, aren’t you?

Nancy: [giggles] What?

Olive: Nothing. I just...I miss you already.

Nancy: I miss you too. It won’t be much longer before I see you again.

Olive: You sure you don’t want to just come upstairs? See my place? My living room. My bedroom...

Nancy: Oh so tempting, darling. But I have alot to catch up on. Soon. I promise.

Nancy: Oh! I wasn’t expecting you boys to be here. Geoffrey, what are you-

Malcolm: We need to talk, Mother.

Nancy: About? Is everything alright?

Geoffrey: Please, just sit, Nancy.

Malcolm: You have some nerve. I’ve been running the foundation not even a year and yet you make it your business to humiliate me at any chance you get. Is that your goal? To ruin me and my reputation?

Nancy: Humiliate you? Malcolm...what are you talking about?

Malcolm: Gallivanting at low end strip clubs looking for whores while still married to my father is one thing but parading her around the city and spending over 400 thousand fucking dollars without a care who sees is wow- bravo! Wife and mother of the year!

Nancy: I- I beg your pardon!? Malcolm, do not talk to me like-

Malcolm: Imagine my surprise as I’m just moments away from landing the deal of a lifetime and I get a call from a journalist, itching to sell the story of Nancy Landgraab and her torrid affair. Do you how much I had to spend to clean up this mess? And what are the odds, this woman is related to the CEO of Servo Tech.

Nancy: [gasps] They know?

Malcolm: You’re not subtle and neither is she. It was nothing to find her and her receipts. She’s got you plastered all over her social media. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s you. I guess that’s the price to pay for screwing a millennial-

Malcolm: Did you stop and think how this would make me look? How this would make my father look? Do you have even an ounce of goddamn shame?

Malcolm: Do you care about anyone other than your fucking self?

Nancy: Malcolm, I love you. I love you and your brother more than anything...but what’s happening between your father and I has nothing to do with you.

Malcolm: Doesn’t it? Everything you have done has affected me. Both of us. All you’ve managed to do over the years is push us away. You keep up with this shit and you’ll have nothing and no one.

Nancy: Johnathan...you’ve felt this way too?

Johnny: [sighs] Look Nancy, I’m only here cause Malcolm paid me, ok? I covered all that shit in therapy already. I’m over it.

Malcolm: It’s not too late to fix this.

Nancy: What...what do you want from me? What do you want me to do?

Malcolm: We’re one of the richest, most powerful families in the world. To the public, we’re the perfect family. I need it to stay that way. That means you need to cut your whore loose and be a proper wife and mother.

Nancy: Olivia is not a whore! She is everything to me!

Nancy: I haven’t been very honest about myself over the years—to all of you, but mostly to myself. Being with Olivia has made me finally put it all together—the one thing I’ve run from all my life. I’ll do anything for you, my baby, but please, I need her. I think I’m in l-

Malcolm: [sighs] Mother. You know nothing about this woman. Are you really willing to sacrifice it all for a felon?

Olive: Hey you...I haven’t heard from you since the trip. I miss you like crazy and I want to see you. Preferably tonight at my place. Then maybe we can hit the strip in the morning and you can pick me out something hot- but classy to wear to my uncle’s wedding. Which I’m hoping...you’d be my plus one? Hello? Nancy, are you there?

Nancy: No. No, I can’t. I’m sorry.

Olive: No? ‘No’ is against the rules, isn’t it? [chuckles nervously]

Nancy: Well. We have broken every single rule we’ve made. What’s one more?

Olive: Oook, what’s going on? Are you ok?

Nancy: I think we should end our arrangement. Clearly...it’s gone too far. It’s for the best.

Olive: ...what?

Nancy: Better now before it gets too complicated, right?

Olive: Complicated? Nancy, what are you doing? Why do you want to end this- is it me? Do you...I thought you felt the same way I did..

Nancy: I’m sorry, Olivia. I have to put my family first.

Olive: What? Your husband?? The one you said you were leaving because, uh, hello? You’re gay! Or you meant your mean, spoiled ass kids? What the fuck, Nancy?

Nancy: Please don’t throw my issues back in my face. Granted, you’ve never told me about what you’ve done.

Olive: What are you talking about?

Nancy: Why didn’t you tell me you went to prison? Don’t you think that is something I should know about you? Don’t you think the media could ruin my family with something like that?

Olive: I tell you my name and you look me up? The fuck is wrong with you?!

Olive: I see how it is. You finally get some ass and now you’re done with me. It’s what you wanted the whole damn time. You rich fucks make me sick! You don’t ever have to worry about me ruining your perfect little life. Fuck you!

Geoffrey: Would you like some wine? It’s your favorite-

Nancy: God, Geoffrey. Just leave me alone! You all got what you wanted, right? Just leave me be. Please.

[koqabear]

Nights Like These

☆ Playlist! ☆

“It was tradition between you and your roommates to relax and drink together once a month. One day a month where you could forget about all your responsibilities and speak about whatever was on your mind. Confronting your undeniable attraction to said roommates was not what you were expecting on a night like this.”

Yeonjun x fem! reader x Taehyun

Genre: and they were roommates, a whopping 2k of “plot”, smut 

word count: 7.7K

Warnings: use of alcohol, mentions of food (they get tipsy at most) 

Smut warnings: dom! Yeonjun, Dom!taehyun, sub!mc, threesome, tae is packing !! (who else is shocked), exhibitionism/ voyeurism, teasing, reader is mentioned to be more vanilla / inexperienced, corruption (?), degrading, praise, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc.) masturbating, (fem) manhandling, biting, marking, grinding, oral, (fem rec.) breast play, fingering, hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, messy handjobs, strength kink, dacryphilia, double vaginal penetration, scratching, bulge kink, size kink, possessiveness, dumbification, creampies , cockwarming (lemme know if I missed anything!)

Notes: How bizarre is it to have two regular warnings then a whole fucking paragraph of smut warnings? Only on my blog, I suppose. Listen to me, I’ve been meaning to write about double penetration on this godforsaken app but have been too scared to— I refuse to be silenced!! Enjoy while you can before it disappears from the tags!!

Nothing good came from nights like these. 

That still didn’t stop you from doing it, feeling yourself sink back more into the couch cushions as your grip tightens on your wine glass; you feel tipsy at most, and the drink in your hand is tamer in comparison to the nights where you and your roommates would go through bottles of soju and order takeout after a particularly stressful day.

On nights like those, where you were too drunk to properly clean up after yourselves, nothing good ever happened. There are too many incidents of you spilling your drinks all over the floor, waking up to a sticky floor that would have you scolded badly by your friends— not to mention the number of drunk rambles your two roommates have gone on, confessing things that would change your perception of them if you were lucky enough to remember it. 

Tonight was one of those nights. 

“Well, it wasn’t ever anything serious,” Yeonjun said, pausing to take another sip of his drink. Tonight wasn’t as bad as the other nights, and you’d like to chalk it all up to the fact that you haven’t really drunk much. But it was enough to loosen Yeonjun’s tongue, sitting back in amusement as you listened to him tell you two stories of his delinquent days, “But I seriously stressed out my mom back then. I feel so bad for her honestly, I don’t know how she put up with me.” 

“I guess that makes sense,” Taehyun says, sitting on the floor and leaning on the coffee table as he grabs a slice of pizza— it’s probably gone cold now, given the fact that the two can never stop talking whenever they drink, “no wonder you’re such a freak.” 

Yeonjun seems to bristle at his friend’s comments, crossing his arms defensively as he glares down at Taehyun. “What the hell do you mean by that?” 

They seem to be communicating as Taehyun gives him a knowing look. It only serves to make you curious as Yeonjun’s ears turn red, clearly defeated as he chooses to take a sip from his drink. The sight is enough to make you laugh, giggly as always as you lean forward clumsily. 

“What?” You say, looking between your two friends to see if you can pry out any information from them, “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Nothing just,” Yeonjun clears his throat, downing his glass as he leans forward to place it down on the table, “just some embarrassing shit I used to do, I don’t think you’d wanna hear about it.”

“Oh, but Taehyun would?” You say, raising a brow as you look towards the said man; he’s smiling, mischievous and tempting as his eyes sparkle cutely under the lights— almost giving him an aura of innocence, if you didn’t know any better, “come on, try me. We’ve known each other long enough, right?” 

“Mmm. It’s just this one time,” Taehyun starts, pausing to take a bite of pizza as he tries to gauge Yeonjun’s reaction; you glance at him, but he refuses to look at you, covering his face in embarrassment as you’re still able to pick up on the red tinge of his cheeks, “I caught Yeonjun and one of his girls fucking, that’s all… It happened multiple times actually, had me thinking it wasn’t an accident at some point. Weird time, honestly.”

“She was really into it, okay?” Yeonjun admits, attempting poorly to defend himself as his hands come away from his face. He’s clearly flustered, his hair a mess with how much he’s been running his hands through it as he listened to Taehyun tell you his story.

“Yeah? Was it because of me? Because I’ve never heard this happening with any of our other friends,” Taehyun is clearly provoking Yeonjun as the two begin to bicker, casually spilling truths that have your eyes widening in surprise. 

There he goes again— Yeonjun has dropped a fact on you so casually as you try to pretend that it doesn’t affect you at all; this time, it seems to have been revealed that Yeonjun is quite the exhibitionist. 

“Don’t act like you were quick to leave, either,” Yeonjun says, words beginning to slur slightly as he points an accusing finger at the younger man. 

“I won’t deny that,” Taehyun is the definition of evil as he grins, biting his lip slightly as he glances at you, “I won’t deny that she was cute— and who am I to refuse a free show?”

Okay, this is all taking a strange turn; you knew the two men before you knew each other way longer than they knew you, and had a very close relationship in turn, but this seemed a little too much for you— you really hadn’t been expecting Taehyun to confess that he was into watching when you pressured him into telling Yeonjun’s secret. 

It’s not like you’ve never talked about your little sexcapades, as Yeonjun likes to call them, but you never truly feel ready for them as you usually find them on the more intense side, your experiences put to shame as it all usually ranges on the more vanilla side. 

Maybe that’s why you find yourself feeling a bit hot— that, and the copious amount you’ve drunk tonight, you tell yourself, gulping nervously as you try to ignore that the way they’ve begun to go into detail isn’t affecting you. At all. 

“Dude, do you have any idea how many times she would ask to invite you?” Yeonjun groaned, throwing his head back against the couch at the very thought, “I seriously thought she was into you instead of me.” 

“I wouldn’t mind sharing,” Taehyun says, the cheeky comment immediately getting a shut the fuck up, in return from Yeonjun. It’s a bit embarrassing when you jump as Taehyun’s eyes land on you again, trying to pretend it didn’t happen as Taehyun only chuckles at your state, “What’s wrong, why are you so quiet? Did we freak you out?”

“No, just…” you clear your throat attempting to not let your flustered state show as you shrug casually, “Just didn’t think you guys would be into that.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be?” If you didn’t know better, you’d think Yeonjun was genuinely curious as he leans forward, laying on the opposite end of the couch as he tilts his head like a puppy. He’s well beyond tipsy, his pouty lips stained and his eyes lidded as his bangs fall into his eyes; a reminder of how good he looks with long hair hits you suddenly, your stomach churning as you desperately try to keep these thoughts under lock and key. 

“I— I don’t know,” you say, biting your lip at the stutter you accidentally let slip through, “what kind of question is that?” 

“Well, we’ve told you a bit about us,” Taehyun says, his foot tapping rhythmically at the table leg as his gaze doesn’t break away from yours, “just think it’d be fair to hear a bit about you, no?”

This was dangerous territory. This type of conversation was usually only breached when you knew you wouldn’t be able to remember it the next day, but men before you are way too experienced to let a few glasses of wine get to them— they were definitely teasing you. 

Was this a normal thing to talk about between friends? Usually, you wouldn’t think much of it; you can think of plenty of times when you’ve all expressed your own stories, unadulterated and light-hearted as you all shared a laugh about it. But this, it definitely felt different; you’re not sure why, but maybe it’s because of the way you can’t help pressing your legs together, your mind beginning to stray as you take in the intensity of their eyes— dark, dangerous, still waiting for an answer as you clear your throat shyly. 

“I dunno, I’m pretty open to trying new things,” you say, trying to change the subject as you stare down at your empty glass, “Tae, could you pass me the bottle?”

Taehyun is quick to heed your request, scooting closer to you to pass you the bottle; you think you might just be going insane when he takes this chance to grab onto your hand, tugging at it slightly so you’re leaning towards him. The way you gulp nervously isn’t lost on Taehyun as he smiles tenderly, his chest pressing against your bare thigh as you try to ignore the way he’s practically laying on you.

“Are you drunk already?” Taehyun asks, ever a tease as he leans in closer to take a closer look at your face, “You’re usually a lot more talkative than this.”

“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you pull away from him; curling up in the corner of the couch, you huff, pouring yourself another glass as you ignore the way the two men grin at your shy state, “what do you expect me to say?” 

“You usually contribute a lot more to our conversations,” Yeonjun muses, scooting closer to you as he watches you avoid his eyes, opting to take another sip from your glass instead, “plus, weren’t you the one that was so eager to hear about my past?”

“When I asked, I was expecting crime stories or something,” you say, your tongue loosened as you look at your friend directly in his eyes, “not stories about you two sharing a girl.” 

There’s something in Yeonjun’s gaze that darkens as he hears you say that. You can practically feel the stares of your two friends burning into your skin as you clear your throat awkwardly, trying to not shift as Yeonjun only scoots closer to you; he’s sitting at your feet now, his arm thrown over the couch as he makes himself comfortable, a cocky smile slowly growing on his face as he speaks.

“Oh, we never shared her,” Yeonjun drawls, tilting his head at the very thought. Below you, Taehyun shakes his head, resting his chin on your thigh as he stares up at you with sparkling doe eyes, clearly tipsy by the way his cheekbones are flushed pink, “she wasn’t special enough for that.”

“You practically did,” you say, shivering at the way Yeonjun runs a hand up your thigh, stopping as he begins to play with the hem of your sweater— the same sweater that Yeonjun and Taehyun are matching with you now, a stupid gift you got them for Christmas and never really expected them to wear. 

Yeonjun can only huff out a laugh at your little comment. You look so cute as you’re cradling your glass, unsure of what else to do as you take another drink out of nervous habit, eventually downing the rest of it. Despite your tense demeanor, your eyes give you away, a dim curiosity showing through as you allow the two men to get closer still. 

“What, you don’t like the idea?” Yeonjun whispers, feeling the way you’re shifting underneath his touch as he gets closer to you, “Would it be too much for someone like you?” 

Someone like you. Someone who wasn’t as experienced or active as them, who preferred to stay with what you knew instead of trying something dangerous and experimenting. 

“No,” you bluffed, refusing to back down as you listened to the two men before you chuckle at your words, “I could handle it.”

“Could you really?” Yeonjun asks, pulling away as you feel your body yearning for his warm presence again, “I don’t believe you.” 

There are so many ways things could go now— a single choice could change the way you see your roommates forever, your heart pounding against your chest as you let out a shaky sigh. 

“What am I supposed to do?” You sigh out shakily, watching the way the remaining droplets in your glass swish around, averting your eyes to avoid their reactions, “prove it to you?” 

“Show us.” 

Your head practically snaps up at Yeonjun’s words. Your mouth has gone dry and you feel as though your tongue has gone numb, unable to articulate any words as you simply give your friend a dumbfounded stare. 

A pause ensues; they wait patiently, giving you a moment to back out and leave if you want to. But even then, they can’t ignore the way your thighs press together impatiently, your throat bobbing as you finally part your lips to speak. 

“Show you?”

The way the men chuckle at your state is downright degrading— and it makes you stifle a whine that threatens to creep up your throat, feeling insanely aroused the longer they take to say or do anything. It’s like they’re trapping you in, feeling small under their gaze as Yeonjun glances down at the pathetic excuse of shorts that cover your legs. 

“Show us you can take it, baby.” Slowly, you nod, allowing Taehyun to take your empty glass from you as your fingers slowly slip under the waistband of your shorts, proceeding to pull them off you. You feel so exposed as you watch the way their eyes follow your every move, gulping for the nth time tonight as you keep your panties on; the way they eye the cute lace has you clenching your legs nervously, unsure of what to do before Yeonjun is reaching out to pry your legs open gently.

“Come on cutie, don’t be shy,” Yeonjun smiles, an action ever so sweet and tempting as he spots the way you’ve made a wet spot on your panties. Taehyun is encouraging as he slowly takes your hand, allowing him to lead you down and place it right over your core before he’s placing his hand over your own, practically engulfing it as he forces you to apply pressure to your pussy.

“Can you show us how you touch yourself, pretty?” 

Their cute nicknames for you are enough to have you melting under their every command, feeling the way your legs open on their own, eager to follow their orders as your hand practically disappears under Taehyun’s. You still can’t help but feel shy under their watchful gaze as you slide your hand under your waistband, your eyes meeting with Yeonjun’s as the pad of your fingertips meets your clit; you jump at the sudden feeling, your mouth falling open as you slowly begin to circle the bud. 

You feel so powerful as you watch the two men become infatuated with you, unable to take their eyes off you for a second as you allow your middle and ring finger to run over your slit— the wet noises that come from it have Yeonjun biting his lip tensely, shifting in his seat as his eyes dart down to where your hand has disappeared. 

Your chest juts out at a particularly harsh touch on your clit— the material of your sweater is thin and pastel, and it allows both your friends to watch the way your nipples poke through, unable to help the way their eyes widen at the fact that you haven’t been wearing a bra all night. 

Yeonjun thinks he might go insane; the sight of you is so sweet and fragile as he watches the way you slowly fuck yourself, a broken whimper escaping you as your fingertips begin to tease your entrance. Beneath you, Taehyun is doing no better, able to get a closer look at your pussy as he watches the material dampen, wanting nothing more than to rip the material off and get a proper view of you toying with your pretty cunt.

After a moment, you decide it’s not enough. Your eyes can’t help but stray as you take in how big the hands of the two men before you are in comparison to yours, feeling your pussy clench uncontrollably at the thought of having either of them touch you instead. The moan you let out is weak and pathetic as you reach your free hand to Yeonjun, tugging at his sleeve until he’s scooting closer to you, eyes hazed and lips parted as he takes in your broken face.

“More,” you whine out, tugging at his sleeve as you bring him closer, until you can feel his breath fan against your face and graze your lips against his, “need more. Please.”

You can taste the wine on Yeonjun’s lips as you finally gather the strength to close the gap between the two of you. The taste only becomes more prominent as he pushes his tongue past your lips, allowing you to tangle your free hand into his hair as you begin bucking your hips uselessly into your hands— you can only whine weakly at the way Yeonjun leaves you messy and breathless, pulling away as his swollen and shiny lips come into view. 

“Fuck, come here,” he breathes out, grabbing onto your hand and tugging you roughly as you allow him to situate you however he likes— it ends with you seated comfortably on his lap, your ass pressing against his clear erection as he drapes your legs over his thighs; you’re practically spread open as Taehyun situates himself between the two of you, on his knees and staring up with you with such a dark and dangerous gaze that has your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“God, look at you,” Yeonjun breathes out into your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hands rub teasingly on your thighs. You jump at the sensitive feeling, trying to close your legs on instinct, only for it to fail as Yeonjun’s strong thighs keep you spread open. Taehyun is only able to laugh at your pathetic state, leaning in closer to your pussy as his eyes never leave yours— he’s so close, almost able to touch you as you rock your hips toward him subtly. 

“Dripping all over me when we’ve barely even started,” Yeonjun’s words are lazy and slurred together as he leaves kisses on the column of your neck, sloppy and wet as he goes to leave marks all over you. 

Wordlessly, Taehyun reaches forward to plant a soft kiss on your panty-covered cunt. The feeling is enough to have you throwing your head back against Yeonjun’s shoulder, your panties practically stuck to you with how needy you are. With every rock of your hips, Yeonjun groans into your ear, feeling your ass press perfectly against his cock, unable to help the way he thrusts up into you, enjoying the way you yelp cutely at the feeling, jolting in his lap from the sheer action. 

Your eyes are fluttering shut the moment Taehyun’s mouth connects with your cunt. He’s making a mess of the pretty lace panties you have on, practically making out with your pussy as he presses his warm tongue on your slit, pushing against the fabric and dragging it up before he’s stopping at your clit. You’re a whining and moaning mess by now, unable to control the way your face contorts with pleasure as Taehyun sucks your clit, hearing the way your moans pick up as he runs his tongue over the fabric teasingly. 

Your panties are an absolute mess by the time he’s pulling away, and Taehyun can’t hide the way the sight is clearly affecting him— your pussy is practically outlined against the fabric, the garment skewed as the pretty bow by your navel practically begs him to unwrap you like a present. 

He does so gladly; both men are groaning weakly as they watch the way as a string of your arousal remains connected to your panties, a weak whimper escaping you as you feel Yeonjun lift your hips with no effort— you’re practically staining his sweatpants the moment he’s sitting you back down, and it certainly doesn’t help that you can still feel his hip rutting into the swell of your ass occasionally, wrapping a secure arm around your waist before he’s pulling you flush against his chest. 

“So soft,” Yeonjun mutters, his hand that was wrapped around your waist sneaking under the hem of your sweater and moving up to grope your beasts; you can’t help the way you mewl as you feel his cold hands on your nipples, sensitive to the way he plays with them, as though he knows your body like the back of his hand.

His other hand is reaching down to your pussy, his deep chuckle hitting your ears as you jump when his fingers come in contact with your cunt; before you realize what he’s doing, you feel him spreading you open with his two fingers, a glob of arousal escaping you as you feel his other hand reach down and tug your sweater over your chest— you’re left displayed perfectly to Taehyun, spread out prettily for him as he’s left to enjoy the sight.

“Isn’t she pretty?” Yeonjun hums out softly, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit as the wet sounds ring around the room. Taehyun can only groan at the sight, ever so weak for your pussy as he finally leans in to get a taste. 

Yeonjun’s other hand has left your breasts. Instead, it traveled up to get a hold of your chin, forcing you to look down and gaze at the way Taehyun’s head was stuck between your thighs; Yeonjun keeping you spread open for him, feeling the way Taehyun’s tongue lapped at you teasingly. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Yeonjun whispers in your ear, like a dirty secret no one else should know as he begins humping against you at a steady pace, “Love being our cute little attention whore?” 

The way you agree to his words without hesitation should be embarrassing— but it’s not, especially with the way Taehyun is leaving you speechless, his tongue teasing at your entrance before he’s finally fucking it into you. 

He’s so sloppy and eager as he allows your arousal to coat his face, moving it side to side and listening to the way you moan whenever his nose bumps against your clit. Yeonjun holds you open all the while, and the way Taehyun pulls away to slurp lewdly at your arousal leaves you warm and flustered as you tuck your head into Yeonjun’s neck. 

It doesn’t take you long before the said man is pulling you back away, keeping his hold on your face firm as he watches the way your face changes intently, his hand moving away from your pussy to rub your thigh soothingly. 

“Look at you, such a pretty thing, letting yourself get used by us,” Yeonjun mutters, his voice dark as he places soft kisses all over your face; it’s a stark contrast to the way Taehyun only becomes more eager to hear you cum, his swollen lips sucking eagerly at your clit as you feel his tongue run ruthlessly over it all the while. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought of you. How hard it was to ignore these feelings, to pretend like I wouldn’t love to fuck you senseless,” Yeonjun’s confessions have a fire of desire licking all throughout your body, hearing the way he stumbles over his words, unable to take his eyes away from the scene before him, “I felt so guilty when I saw you, so cute and perfect, innocent to the fact that we’ve wanted you for so long.”

You’re a mess under their hands as the sudden confessions take you by surprise, whimpering out weakly that you’ve felt the same— Taehyun’s eyes flick up to meet yours for a second, tilting his head before he’s practically making out with your pussy slowly, the feeling of his tongue all over you making you reach down and tug his hair thoughtlessly; the moan he lets out from the feeling is enough to bring you close to your climax, unable to control yourself as you begin to roll your hips against his face. 

“Yeah? Do you think about us a lot?” Yeonjun whines teasingly in your ear, mimicking you and smiling as you moan out a weak y-yes! 

“Do you touch yourself to the thought of us?” Yeonjun’s questions are dangerous to your fuzzy mind as you nod frantically, weak to his voice as you find yourself confessing things you never thought you ever would. 

“God, I do too,” Yeonjun groans, his cock pressing against you as he reaches down to keep your hips still, bringing you back against him as you remain victim to the way Taehyun licks your pussy mercilessly. You think your mind has gone blank the moment his fingers sneak in to prod at your entrance, the way he messily kisses and sucks at your clit your downfall as you let out one last moan— you’re stilling against his face as he lets you ride out your orgasm, weak whimpers and cries streaming from your lips as you weakly cry out that it’s too much. 

Taehyun only listens to your commands once he feels you pushing at his face weakly, your eyes fluttering open weakly and your chest heaving as you lock gazes with Taehyun— you feel beyond flustered at the way his lips and chin shine with your arousal, his tongue slowly darting out to lick it all off before he’s leaning in to place a gentle, feather-like kiss at your inner knee. 

“I’ve thought about having you like this for so long,” Yeonjun breathes out, his hand reaching down to play with your pussy teasingly; he ignores the way you keen softly at his touch, still sensitive from your previous orgasm as he begins to put on a show for Taehyun— the said man only sits back on his heels, hands on your knees as he watches your face with a dark expression. 

Yeonjun’s fingers are long and cool against your walls; the stretch is enough to make you moan out weakly, falling limp against Yeonjun as you let him set up a gentle pace. You shiver with every motion he does, flinching when he curls his fingers to press against your sweet spot cruelly, focusing on it as he immediately notices your reaction. 

His lips that were once soothing against your neck have now become harsh, leaving bites and marks that bloom on your skin prettily— the sight of you marked up and leaking desperately for him is enough to have him trying to not fuck you senselessly right that second— instead, you can feel him beginning to thrust against you, his cock fully hard as he nuzzles his head into your neck.

“Please,” you beg, breathy and useless as Taehyun stands up to tower over you; his cock is straining against his sweats as he places careful hands on your waist, his chest heaving as he leans in to kiss you— you’re pulling him in desperately, hopelessly lost in the feeling of his plush lips and sharp teeth that dig into your flesh as Yeonjun begins to pick up the pace. 

You’re a mess at this point, unable to keep up with Taehyun as your mouth is left open, moans swallowed up by Taehyun as you let him kiss you senselessly, feeling Yeonjun still nibbling at your neck as you try to ignore the fact that you’re practically drooling at the way he’s fingering you, his palm rubbing against your clit as he brings you closer to your second orgasm of the night.

Nothing is piecing itself together in your mind at this point— Taehyun is panting against your mouth, and you realized that it’s because you’ve managed to slip a hand through his sweats, guided by him as you finally got a hold of his cock. You don’t remember doing such a thing, but your mind is nothing but a haze as you take in the way he’s continuously dripping precum from his head, your hand sticky as you feel him straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you manage to whine out, unsure of who you may be talking to as your mouth is swallowed up by Taehyun’s kiss again— your free hand reaches down to grip Yeonjun’s forearm, your hips stuttering against his movements as you feel your brain going fuzzy. You know it’s more than the alcohol at this point as you feel Taehyun pulling away from you, watching as you fall apart on Yeonjun’s fingers and cum for the second time tonight. 

Your hand has gone limp against Taehyun’s cock; it isn’t until you’re regaining your breath that you’re pulling your hand out from the confines of his sweats, staring at the sticky mess on your fingers before you lock eyes with Taehyun— he thinks he could come untouched as he watches the way your tongue begins to clean up the mess, circling the muscle around your delicate fingers until there’s nothing left. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking dirty,” Yeonjun sighs out, hips still rutting against you as his fingers have yet to leave your cunt; you might just start crying when you feel him beginning to stretch you out, scissoring you slowly as he grins at the wet sounds your pussy is making for him. 

“Need you to fuck me,” you find yourself whining, your back arching at the way Yeonjun continues to toy with you, the feeling agonizing as he begins to tease the tips of his fingers at your entrance, “want both of you.” 

“Both of us?” Taehyun laughs, finally speaking to you after being a bystander for so long, “Baby, I don’t think you could handle that.” 

“No, I can, I really can,” you cry out, tugging his sweater softly and pawing his chest as you begin to beg weakly, “wanna feel you both, I can take it.” 

Yeonjun and Taehyun are exchanging silent looks— they’re communicating, it seems, unsure of what to do as you continue to ramble on weakly, unable to get your eyes off of Taehyun’s cock that clearly strains against his sweats. It takes a second before they’re finally coming to a conclusion, your body erupting in shivers as they turn their attention back on you. 

“Can you really take it sweet thing?” Yeonjun is mumbling against your skin, placing gentle kisses along your shoulder as Taehyun goes to sit down beside you; you’re nodding, hazy and clumsy as you run your hands down Taehyun’s chest, sneaking under the hem before you’re tugging his shirt up and exposing his perfect muscles. 

It’s no secret Taehyun loved to work out— but seeing him here, tan skin and rippling muscles ready to be marked by your lips, made you so incredibly needy, enjoying the way he shivers as you run a curious hand over his abdomen and biceps. 

“Curious?” Taehyun asks, shifting so that he’s sitting back against the couch; he looks so attractive as he looks up at you, hair splayed out on the end armrest of the couch while his legs remain spread out like a tempting seat— you can’t help the way your face feels hot as he pulls you towards him, his strength easily allowing him to manhandle you into position as you’re straddling his lap, right above his cock as your sweater falls back over your chest messily. 

“So damn pretty,” Taehyun mutters, breathless as he stares up at your fucked out form; you could say the same thing about him, but you’d rather express it in your actions as you attempt to grind down against him, only for it to be stopped by his firm grip on your hips. 

“Don’t you wanna feel the real thing, pretty?” Taehyun grins, shifting around so he’s able to take off the rest of his clothes, left bare under you as watches you nod needily, feeling a whine escape you as you finally get to see his cock; for a second, you understand why Taehyun had been so doubtful of your ability, eyeing the sheer size and girth of him as you inevitably feel yourself clenching around nothing. His tip is leaking from the sight of you, red and throbbing as his mind begs nothing more than to be inside you and fuck you senseless. 

Instead, he waits for you to make a move, biting his lip as he watches the way your hand looks small as you wrap it around his shaft; he hisses as you slowly align him with your entrance, rubbing him against your slit as you whimper at the way your cum runs down his cock. 

“Jesus, you’re so…” Taehyun is unable to finish his thought as you’re sinking down on him, the hiss you two share at the feeling lethal as he feels the way your walls flutter around his cock uncontrollably. 

Tight. Warm. Wet. Taehyun’s mind is racing as he lets out a loud groan the moment you’re touching the base of his cock, eyes shutting as he tries to focus on not coming inside you immediately. You’re doing no better than him, whining uncontrollably as you grind on him softly, unable to help yourself as you take in the way he stretches you out so well. 

“Shit, I don’t think I’ll last if you keep squeezing me like this pretty girl,” Taehyun breathes out, a sweat forming on his forehead as his hair begins to stick to his skin. All you can do is whine in return, slowly picking up your hips before you’re slamming back down on him— you can’t help but be loud at the feeling, Taehyun sharing the same feelings as you as he lets out a choked moan; your pace is brutally slow as you begin adjusting to his size, the wet sounds of skin on skin and your pathetic sounds driving Taehyun mad as he does his best to thrust up into you in return.

“Cute little pussy is so loud,” Yeonjun says, emerging behind you as he wraps his arms around you, your legs tiring out as you’ve slowed down to nothing but a pathetic grind. His hands find their way under your sweater again before he’s pulling it off you, your pretty tits finally revealed to them as Yeonjun doesn’t waste a second to palm at them. 

“Want you,” you mutter, breathless as you lean back against Yeonjun’s chest, “want you right now.” 

“Oh baby, I don’t think you could handle that,” Yeonjun coos in your ear, pitying the way your eyes shine with needy tears as you shake your head in refusal, “you can barely handle Taehyun as it is.”

“N…no,  I can—!” Taehyun is teasing as he thrusts up into you, jolting your body as you cry out pitifully. You can’t seem to back down though, dead set on feeling both your roommates inside you at once as you reach behind to grab Yeonjun’s bulge, “please? Please please please, I can take it, I promise I can…” 

You know Yeonjun is only teasing you as he takes a moment to think, enjoying the way your clumsy hand attempts to palm him, much too distracted by the way Taehyun has begun to roll his hips up into you. Gently, he takes a hold of your face, turning you to look at him as he captures you in a slow kiss; you feel as though you’re being devoured when you can feel Yeonjun shifting behind you, finally pulling away before he’s smiling at you sweetly. 

You’re forced to face forward again as Yeonjun places firm hands on your shoulders, pushing you forward until you’re chest to chest with Taehyun; the new position has you whimpering softly, burying your face in Taehyun’s neck as you feel him rocking his hips up into you subtly. 

“Since you asked so nicely…” Yeonjun trails off, enjoying the way you flinch as he prods his tip at your already stuffed entrance, a long moan drawn out of you as he begins to push in.

The stretch is enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, clawing at Taehyun’s shoulders as he grunts at the feeling— both of your scratches and Yeonjun situating himself beside Taehyun. You’re incredibly tight as Yeonjun pushes forward, going inch by inch as he watches you intently for any signs of discomfort. He’s almost bottomed out when you squeeze the two of them, your grip like a vice as the two men let out loud moans, filling your ears like music and causing you to clench again. 

The pleasure is enough to make you dizzy as you slowly push yourself up on your hands, hovering over Taehyun who simply looks at you with hungry eyes. You can feel yourself going in for another kiss, only to crash down against Taehyun’s chest as Yeonjun thrusts the rest of himself in, his hips meeting yours as you yelp against Taehyun’s collarbones. 

Your whines and whimpers don’t seem to cease for a second as the two men begin to grind into you, shakily trying to push yourself up again before you find your strength failing you; it’s Taehyun who pushes you up gently, cupping your face with such tenderness that you can’t help the way you grow teary-eyed, overwhelmed with pleasure yet still wanting more as you allow Taehyun to direct you into a sweet kiss. 

It doesn’t take long before you grow lax against him, feeling Yeonjun slowly pull out before he’s beginning to thrust shallowly into you. Taehyun remains still all the while, his breathy moans and quiet groans of pleasure barely reaching your ears as you rock against his body, your clit being stimulated as you cry at the pleasure. 

“Look at you, barely able to handle it,” Yeonjun moans breathily, sneaking a hand between your and Taehyun’s bodies as he’s pressing against your stomach, able to feel the bulge that’s formed as both he and Taehyun groan, “are we too big for you baby?”

In a daze, you nod. You feel so full. So, so so full and stretched out as Yeonjun’s other hand goes on your hip, guiding you back into him as praises and filth exit his mouth in a continuous stream. You can’t help the way your pussy flutters with every word, his moans only riling you up more as you wish you could feel him more against you; your wish comes true as he hovers over you, his chest against your back as he slowly grinds into you, placing feather-like kisses along your shoulder blades as he drinks up your sounds of pleasure. 

Beneath you, Taehyun slowly begins to pull out; your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling, your grip on him tightening for a second as he slowly thrusts back into you. The two men slowly begin to find their pace as you grow accustomed to them, your body relaxed and pliant as they fuck you dumb. 

“So perfect, so good,” Yeonjun pants behind you, shutting his eyes tight at the way it feels to be inside you, to be able to feel Taehyun’s cock rubbing against his as well, “god, such a good girl, looks like you really can take it.”

His praise is unrelenting as he watches the way your body rocks from the way they fuck you; there’s a white ring that’s beginning to form on his cock as his eyes fall down to your stretched hole, brows furrowing at the sight of you leaking uncontrollably, the liquid running all over Taehyun’s cock and onto the couch. The sight alone is enough to have him fucking into you rougher, taking both you and Taehyun by surprise as you weakly fall apart under him.

Taehyun isn’t able to kiss you anymore— there’s not a single thought in your mind as your mouth falls open, face screwing up in pleasure as you tuck your head into the crook of Taehyun’s neck, finding solace in the space as you absentmindedly begin to suck and bite marks onto his skin. The thought of seeing the aftermath of everything you did to him later has Taehyun thrusting up into you with more desperation, eager to hear you fall apart on them as you begin to babble about how good it all feels. 

“Yeah? Feels good? I know pretty, I know,” Taehyun coos, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing you flat against him as he kisses your shoulder. You’re practically being pushed around as Taehyun begins to shift under you, their movements ceasing as he begins to adjust his position, your tiny whines about not wanting them to stop being shushed by Taehyun as he tugs on your hair softly. 

“Be quiet baby, before you regret it,” Taehyun whispers in your ear, his heels digging into the sofa as you ignore him and continue to complain; as a result, he begins to thrust into you harshly, able to jackhammer into you as Yeonjun begins to do the same— it’s hard to go as fast as he wants to when you’re stuffed full, but Taehyun knows it’s enough by the way you grab onto him desperately, your mouth falling open as unabashed moans begin to fall from you. 

“Shit, our pretty girl,” Yeonjun groans, feeling himself twitch inside you as you blindly reach back to him, searching for his hand as he finally takes it; his fingers interlock with yours, pulling you back into him and Taehyun as he laughs at your pitiful state, “All ours. Won’t be able to get fucked again unless it’s by us.”

“We ruined you for anyone else,” Taehyun continues, reaching for your face as he’s forcing you to look at him; you’re unstable, a hand planted on his chest and the other holding onto his shoulder as you’re rocked back and forth by them, your face a mess as drool escapes the corner of your lips— you’ve been fucked absolutely stupid as you clench at their words, feeling your high approaching again as you feel hot tears escaping your eyes. 

“Holy shit Yeonjun, wish you could see this right now,” Taehyun laughs, slowing his pace down as he turns your face to look at Yeonjun; the said man only grins at you, cooing mockingly as he chases a stray tear away— he can’t help but be endeared at the way they pool at your eyes, running quickly down your cheeks and clinging onto your chin before they’re falling on your tits and Taehyun’s chest; you’re a complete mess as you choke back on a sob, head hanging at the way they keep fucking you throughout it. 

“We fucked her stupid,” Taehyun breathes out, bouncing you on him as he thrusts up harshly, listening to the way your cries pick up as you approach your orgasm. 

“Completely ruined,” Yeonjun breathes out, never thinking that he’d be able to see you like this. Laughing, he picks up his pace again, able to feel the way his cock begs for release as you clench down mercilessly against the two of them— you’re so close and they can feel it, your cunt a vice as you practically push them out with every clench of your walls. 

“You won’t fuck anyone else but us,” Yeonjun growls out, his hands turning possessive as his fingers dig into your hips, “ruined for everyone else but us. Isn’t that right, pretty?”

Clumsily, you nod, the action barely visible from how much your body is already rocking from his thrusts. But Yeonjun is still able to see it, feeling the way Taehyun picks up his pace as well as he chokes back a loud groan. 

“Say it. Say you’re ruined for us, that you’re all ours now.” 

“I— I’m—“ you’re barely able to get out a coherent word with how well you’re being fucked, your voice quivering pathetically as Taehyun cranes his neck to be able to suck on your pretty skin, biting onto your neck harshly and leaving bruises he’ll definitely be admiring later.

“Come on, we know you can do it pretty,” Taehyun encourages, his brows furrowed as he can feel his cock begin to twitch inside you, the feeling of Yeonjun’s tip brushing against his own making him sensitive as it becomes harder to keep his pace. 

“I’m yours!” You cry out, babbling uselessly as you feel like you’ll snap at any moment, “I’m yours, only yours— don’t want anyone else’s cock, you both fuck me so good, I’m only yours— all ruined—“ 

Your rambles are enough to set Yeonjun off, feeling him thrust into you harshly before he’s bottoming out, his chest pressed flush against your back as he rests his forehead between your shoulder blades; his moans are breathy and ticklish against your skin as you feel him filling you with his cum, an endless stream as his cock continues to spurt inside you ruthlessly. 

The action is enough to set you and Taehyun off like a chain reaction, feeling the band in your stomach snap before you’re practically seeing white, falling limp on top of Taehyun who quickly comes after you— he’s moaning loudly against the crown of your head as he bottoms out as well, still feeling Yeonjun coming inside you as he becomes next; you’re practically stuffed as their cum begins to leak out of you, your hole fluttering pathetically around them as they groan weakly at the action. 

“Shit…” you’re unsure of who it is that breathes that out, on the verge of blacking out as you try to regain your breath. You still feel as though none of it has settled in your mind yet, the tipsy feeling of the alcohol in your bloodstream rendering you entirely useless after being fucked into oblivion. 

You trust Yeonjun and Taehyun to be the ones to come back to their senses and clean up, but you’re unsure if that should be the case as you’re beginning to feel Taehyun’s breath even out under you— a weak smack on his chest is enough to startle him awake, barely conscious yourself as you try to pretend that Taehyun’s strong arms that wrap around your middle and Yeonjun’s kisses that span along your back isn’t enough to lull you to sleep. 

It definitely is. You have yet to feel either of them pull out of you yet, but all you can do is hope and pray that you won’t be having another spilled drink incident when you wake up again. 

As you said, nothing good came from nights like these. 

(At least, tomorrow will be the judge of that.)

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - part 2

It was too tempting to continue the story of Marcus Acacius and the woman who shows him how to celebrate Bona Dea so here is part two for your enjoyment!

Warnings: smut, porn with a bit of plot, slaves and really ancient views on women and their status, unprotected sex, Marcus is a stern softie

Bona Dea - part 1

A bit of context for those who don’t know about the status of women in Imperial Rome. In short - women were seen as inferior. Women had no rights, held no influence, couldn’t vote, even if they were Roman citizens. Their main role was to care for the family and honour the family name.

Daughters were married off to whomever their fathers deemed suitable for the family’s gain. Divorce was allowed, as was remarrying. But the marriage was strictly monogamous, for the women and for men. When a woman married, she remained under the control of her father, her husband had no legal control over her. 

During the imperial age, we have some sources indicating that if a father found out his daughter was having an extramarital affair, it was in his right to kill her, he would also be expected to kill her lover. Husbands who found out their wives were cheating could kill the lover, but only if he was a slave or not a Roman citizen. So in this story, our reader's husband could not kill Acacius if he caught his wife committing adultery with him, but her father could (theoretically at least). A woman found out could be divorced by her husband and she was barred from marrying again. She also lost her status in society and some sources claim she’d be made to wear a toga rather than the traditional stola to mark her “fallen” status. For men, under the laws of Augustus, which regulated adultery, a married man who had sex with a slave, a prostitute or a “low class woman” was not considered committing adultery. It was only adultery if the woman was another man’s wife. 

Letica - litter used for carrying people as a mode of transport

Sobrina - female maternal cousin 

“Wife, where are you?” 

Your husband’s voice echoed through the rooms as you heard his sandals slap against the floor. Ordinarily he left you well alone during the day, always busy with affairs and politics. And whores you presumed. But now he was striding into your private thermae, interrupting the servant's gentle massage of your sore body. 

“Here, husband,” you called to him when you realised he wouldn’t relent. 

“There you are, why aren’t you ready yet? Alba, why is your mistress not ready to leave? We need to leave for the feast!” 

You pulled the sheet of the bench around you as you sat up, your servants stepped away and dropped their eyes to the floor. 

“What feast? You have not told me about any feast tonight?” 

“Wife! You will be the death of me! There is a great big army camped outside the town walls, their general is staying in Villa Amira, how many times do I have to tell you, he is hosting a feast for all the town’s dignitaries tonight! Come! Hurry!”

Your husband waved his arms impatiently for you to get up, and you rose up, slow realisation creeping through your limbs. You were certain your husband hadn’t said a word about a feast or an army camped outside the town wall, but that didn’t matter, what mattered was who the general was. Fear made your skin clammy and cold as you tightened the sheet around your body. . 

“Who is this general who so graciously treating us all to a feast?” you asked, praying your voice was steady and betrayed no nerves while your insides churned. 

“General Acacius, returning from his campaigns to the north. He and his officers are resting their men here for a few days before marching on to Rome.” 

You followed your husband as he left the thermae, barely hearing him as he droned on about how important it was to make a good impression on the general, how it would be a wonderful opportunity to make connections, maybe even garner an invite to Rome.

“I’ve heard he is close with the emperors, with his recommendation, I could expand my business, trade in Rome, make some real gold for a change!” 

Your husband was panting with excitement, a dog who’d seen a bone and now he was drooling in his eagerness to get to it. 

“Alba,” you turned to your younger cousin who also served as your maid, “the new silk gown, the deep cobalt one, please bring it to my room.” 

“Yes, sobrina,” she replied and hurried off, as you followed your husband to your bedroom. You didn’t share it with him, gods forbid, but he brought you there now to further hammer in the importance of haste. 

“The letica is waiting, have Alba do your hair simple, just decorate it with the new ivory comb, to show our status to the general,” he said, ushering you into the bedroom and hurrying off again, no doubt to make sure every part of the letica was spit shined and the slaves carrying it dressed in the family’s livery. 

When he’d left, you sank down on the bed, head in your hands. A feast, with Marcus Acacius as the host. The man who had left your body tired and sore, but still aching for more after Bona Dea. The man who only last night had buried his face between your thighs and then made you cry out for him while he took you hard from behind, fucked you the way you’d begged him to. Bona Dea was often just a night of wreckless celebrations, too much wine and gleeful gossip among your friends. Not since before you’d been married had there been a man foolish enough to wander alone on that night. But Marcus had, and now you understood why. He was a stranger to this town, unaware of the irregular custom of Bona Dea, and he’d wandered straight into your house and given you, and two of your friends, the best Bona Dea celebration in many years. 

And now you had to face him again, less than a day later. 

The rational part of your mind was terrified of seeing him again, with your husband there nonetheless! Bona Dea was a wild ceremony, but what happened during it were closely guarded secrets among the inhabitants of the town. ‘Don’t ask and don’t tell’ was the mantra that all the women repeated. But Marcus was not from this town, would he tell your husband? Marcus had nothing to lose, he could just continue on to Rome, the celebrated general. Your husband on the other hand, could divorce you, throw you out and send you back to your family estate in disgrace, if your father would even take you back under those circumstances. 

You had nowhere else to go in this world. You weren't sure at all that your husband, or the town's rigid society, would accept something as outrageous as spending a night with an unknown man, even if it was during Bona Dea. Society was cruel against women who stepped outside of the marital bed. 

You dug your fingers into your damp hair and whimpered into the empty room. Fear took a tighter grip on your heart, you knew nothing of this man, not his morals, his values or his temper. You knew his body intimately, but nothing of the man. 

How would he react when he saw you at Villa Amira? 

Alba arranged your hair into a simple and elegant style, saying nothing of your drawn face and the way you chewed your lip. You didn’t reveal to her that the man you were about to see was the man she had also taken advantage of during Bona Dea. She had not put two and two together and you decided it was best to keep it that way. 

As she dressed you, even the cool silk of the gown felt restrictive, despite the loose and flowing fabric. The cape she arranged over your shoulders felt stifling, even worse so when she arranged your veil. 

“Leave it, Alba, I’ll only be in the letica and then at the villa, no one will see me on the street,” you said, waving away the delicate fabric you detested so much. 

Alba nodded and stepped back, your husband entering the room just at the right time and barking orders. 

“Time to leave, we’re already late,” he snapped, signalling for you to hurry out of the door and to the waiting transportation. 

The trip to Villa Amira was swift, your husband urging on the slaves carrying the box and they arrived drenched in sweat. A servant of the house bowed low as you stepped out from the letica and entered the vestibule, your husband striding ahead of you, greeting a few business acquaintances as you made your way over to a few of the other wives you were friendly with. They had also all just arrived and together you made your way into the large reception room. Cups of wine were being passed around by servants and you gratefully took one and retreated into a corner of the room with two of the wives you knew best, Antonia and Octavia. 

“It seems the army of Rome brings better wine on their marches than what my husband serves at home,” Octavia giggled as she lifted her cup to yours. You could only agree after tasting the smooth wine, it went down very easily into your nervous belly. 

“Oh, there is our host!” Antonia exclaimed in a hushed voice, she’d been scanning the room for a glimpse of the general, and now she nodded in his direction as the crowd parted for the tall man. Your stomach swooped. Last night he’d been dragged into your house wearing his tunic and cloak. Tonight he was in his full armour, looking every bit the triumphant general he was as the polished dark leather and gold drew everyone's attention. 

“He’s older than I thought,” Octavia mumbled, “and I still haven’t been able to find out if he’s married, Cornelia needs a husband and I would not mind a general as a son in law.” 

“He must be at least twenty years Cornelia’s senior,” Antonia noted, “Those marriages only work if he gives her plenty of free rein. You need to know what kind of man he is or your daughter will rebel, you know what she’s like.” 

“That’s why I must find out if he’s married first. The servants may know, I need to give instructions to my maid to get friendly with the house slaves before they leave for Rome.” 

The prattle of your friends couldn’t keep your attention, Marcus was on the other side of the room, greeting his guests and your eyes were glued to him. The curls that had been so unruly last night, were tamed and combed back, fighting to escape whatever oil his servant had used. They gleamed in the golden light of the lights, as did his armour. The polished details catching the flames and making the Medusa head on his chest plate look almost alive, it must be a terrifying sight on the battlefield. As he shook yet another man’s hand, the taught muscles of his arms moved and rippled, the strength of the man evident in the way he held himself, simply in the way he stood, at ease, with one hand on his hip. 

Perhaps he felt your eyes on him, maybe he noticed the bright colours of the gowns the wives, clustered in on one side, were wearing, but his eyes moved across the room, and fell on you. Even at a distance you could see tension suddenly grip his body, how he squared his shoulders, the hand on his hip suddenly dropped and twitched. It lasted only a moment, then he looked away, politely greeting yet another guest.

You carefully let out a long exhale, forcing your eyes away from him, over to your friends and then your husband. He was standing at the edge of the crowd surrounding Acacius, looking eager and nervously shifting on his feet, looking for an opening, an opportunity to swoop in and shake the general’s hand. He caught sight of you, and with an impatient gesture, he waved you over, his eyebrows pulled together in an annoyed frown. 

“Wife,” he hissed as you came to his side, “if he is married, or has a sister or daughter, I want you to make friends with her, make yourself useful.” 

“Yes, husband,” you nodded, lowering your head and keeping your eyes downcast. 

Marcus was so close now, you could hear his voice as he conversed with a few of the guests. The tone was so different to last night, sharp, authoritative and dominant, so far from the man that had been yours to command during Bona Dea. His voice then had been low, laced with need and lust, groaning as he both received and gave pleasure. Just remembering his needy moans had your insides twisting as you stared at the mosaic beneath your feet. 

“General Acacius, it’s my pleasure to meet you, I’m Balventius Lunaris, let me introduce my wife.”  

You heard your husband’s voice as he took hold of your arm and pulled you forward, forcing you to look up and meet Marcus’s eyes just before he bowed his head to you. 

“We are very grateful for your service to Rome, general, for your conquests in the name of our great emperors. Our empire relies on the greatness of such men as yourself, where would Rome be if it wasn’t for its great generals.” 

Your husband was grovelling with such insistence that it made your cheeks heat up on his behalf, you glanced up at Marcus. He looked at your husband with thinly veiled disdain before he met your eyes. 

“My pleasure, Lunaris, I’m grateful for the reception of the town, it has been a pleasure resting here.” 

You could swear his mouth quirked in the smallest of smiles as he said the last part, making another wave of heat run through your limbs. 

“General Acacius,” you replied, “it’s an honour to have you and your army in our town.” 

He bowed his head again in acknowledgement as your husband began to speak, falling into a clearly well rehearsed monologue. You stood next to him, your husband attempting to subtly brag about his accomplishment to the general while Acacius’s face went from polite interest to contempt. 

“Excuse me, Lunaris,” he suddenly said, interrupting your husband mid-sentence, turning on his heel and making his way to two of his officers, leaving your husband with an open mouth and a stunned expression on his face. He closed his mouth and opened it again, snapping it shut once more, like a fish gasping for air.. 

“Wife….” he scowled, “Find his wife or something, make yourself useful!” 

With a dark look at Acacius, he stalked off towards one of his business partners who was also at the feast, grabbing a cup of wine from one of the servants on the way. You made your way back to some of the ladies of the town, maybe one of them knew if there was a wife, or a sister to befriend, anything to appease your husband. Marcus was making your skin tingle just by standing on the other side of the room, but he and the army would leave soon. You would stay here, with your husband, and keeping his mood good was more important than the general, no matter how much you wished for him to not have a wife. 

You joined the other women, slowly sipping a cup of wine while they gossiped. Your eyes kept drifting around the room, always landing on Marcus. He had his proud profile to you, not once glancing over in your direction. Your stomach sunk, like a lead ball in the pit of your belly. He could not acknowledge you here, of course not, and you should not be looking at him. But you desperately wanted his attention, one look from him seemed to give more excitement than a lifetime with your husband. As minutes passed, the prospect of sacrificing your life, your position and social standing, became a small price to pay to be in Marcus’s presence. 

The wine sat sour in your belly, and when the servants guided you all into the dining room for the feast, you were already nauseous. These dinners went on for hours, into the early hours of the morning, and the prospect of being in the same room as Marcus for so long without being able to acknowledge him, even talk to him unless he spoke to you first and your husband was next to you…it made tears of frustration burn behind your eyelids. 

Your husband’s status earned him a seat at the main table, but towards the end. You were seated next to him, and on your other side your husband’s nephew, learning the ropes of the business. As was customary, General Acacius honoured his guest by seating himself and his officers at the middle table, at an angle from the main table. But it meant you were reclining almost opposite him, his proud profile yet again in your field of view. He had removed his armour, changed into a soft looking dark red tunic, richly embroidered, and the claps seemed to strain against the width of his shoulders. As you looked at him from the corner of your eye, he brought a cup of wine to his lips and sipped it. A drop escaped and his tongue came out to swipe over his full bottom lip, and you bit back a whimper. Less than a full day ago, those lips, that tongue, had been intent on giving you the greatest pleasure you’d ever felt. Now his tongue ran over his lips, catching the errant drop, and his eyes found yours. Just for a second or two, but it was enough. Heat pooled between your legs, as you parted your own lips, and Marcus’s hand tightened around his cup. You dropped your gaze, he looked away, and the moment was gone. 

Servants began to bring in the first dishes, placing them on the low tables, and the guest began conversing. Your nephew was trying to get Acacius’s attention, to make up for your husband’s failed attempt, but with little success. You toyed with the dishes presented to you, the opulent, rich food making your stomach turn. The oysters, usually your favourite, smelled off and you left them untouched. Instead you waved to one of the servants behind you, and put your hand up for the woman to help you to your feet. You gave a bow to your husband, who took no notice, and to your host, who met your look and bowed his head too. 

The servant guided you to the latrina and waited outside as you closed the door. Sinking down onto the bench, you leaned back against the cool wall. The evening was tortuous, even more so than usual. Playing the good wife to your loathsome husband was never a role that came easy to you. Having Marcus so close was slowly eating away at what little composure you would usually muster for night’s like these. And to make matters worse, your husband would inevitably want to come to your bed tonight, he always did when he’d had too much wine. How would you be able to stomach him belching and puffing above you? 

The very thought made you shudder and you quickly stood up, smoothing out the silk of your stola, before you opened the door. The hallway behind it was deserted and the servant nowhere to be seen. It was odd, but not disconcerting and you stepped out, turning towards the dining room again. You made it only a few steps before a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you through an opening. You gasped, ready to scream, when a large hand clamped over your mouth, and someone pushed you up against the wall. 

“Quiet, my domina, do not let them hear you.” 

Marcus’s voice was low and soft, close to your ear, as he pressed you against the wall, his hand slipping down to hold your other arm. As your heartbeat slowly returned to normal, you heard the footsteps of servants in the hall, passing just by the dark opening he’d pulled you into. The warmth of his body radiated through your stola and the smell of his beard filled your nose as you looked up at him in the dim light. He seemed to be holding his breath, his head turned towards the opening as he waited for the footsteps to disappear. The strong line of his throat was just by your mouth, and on impulse, you pressed your lips to his soft skin, tasting him, a faint hint of salt on your tongue. Above, you heard him inhale, and his grip on your arms tightened. . 

The footsteps faded and Marcus turned his head to look at you, his eyes meeting yours before slipping down to your lips. It took him only a split second to make up his mind, his hand came up to cup the back of your head as he pressed you into the wall, his mouth finding yours with a low groan. Parting your lips to him, his taste flooded your brain as he licked into your mouth. Your fingers found purchase around his shoulders and with a moan you felt him press his hips into you, the evidence of his arousal evident through the fabric of his tunic. 

This kiss left you breathless, his hand wrapped around your neck, holding you tight even though you were desperately pulling him as close as possible too. It felt like your lips would be bruised, your hair in disarray, but they were secondary thoughts, all that filled your senses was Marcus; his smell, the hard muscles of his shoulders, the soft tickle of his beard against your lips, and, more than anything, the way he was holding your hip, his body pressed into yours while the sound of his muted groans filled your ears. Need for him rushed through you at breakneck speed, the events of the night, the tension of being so close to him at dinner, it all came to a head and you whimpered his name into his mouth. 

It seemed to shake him out of the frenzied kiss, his hand found yours as he pulled away, begging you to follow, leading you across the atrium garden he’d pulled you into. The moonlight filtered through the branches of the tree that stood in the middle, a pool surrounding it, cooling the air. He led you to an alcove on the opposite side, shielded from view by the leafy greenery of the small garden. Once seated on the bench, he pulled you onto his lap, strong arms around your waist and shoulders, cupping your cheek and seeking your lips again. 

“We don’t have long, carissime,” he mumbled, “my absence will be missed and we can’t return to the dining hall together.” 

You nodded and let him press his lips to yours, finding the soft curls at his neck with your hands, and holding him close. His kisses were gentle now, his hands caressing your cheek, your throat, down your back as the warmth of his palms, rough and calloused, left trails across your skin. The sounds of the villa had faded, tucked away as you were in a dark corner, only soft moans could be heard, quiet breaths.

Eventually, you pulled away a fraction, seeking his eyes again. They were warm and mild, so unlike the sharp edge they’d held earlier in the night when he conversed with his guests. 

“I loathe to say it,” you whispered, placing another soft kiss on his lips, “but I should go.” 

He nodded, his warm palm still on your cheek, “Leave now. I’ll follow in a little while when I’ve done my rounds with the guards.” 

“When do you leave for Rome?” you asked, letting your fingertips caress the outline of his jaw, the contours of his lips. 

“Tomorrow, carissime,” he replied, taking your hand from his face and pulling you to your feet, “Leave now, I’ll try to see you again before we leave.” 

He pressed a final kiss to your lips and swatted your hip with a small smirk, “Go, my domina.” 

The evening dragged on after you returned to the low table, your husband barely acknowledged your presence. When the general joined the party again some time later, your husband raised his cup, saluting the victorious general in a loud voice, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

Slow hours passed, and by the time the final dishes were brought in, you were well and truly bored. Your husband and nephew were too busy trying to catch the attention of any of the more prominent guests, especially the general, and didn’t speak to you. Marcus was ignoring both them and you, and none of the ladies you were close with were at your table. You were reduced to studying the officers reclining around the tables, all of them strong and powerful looking, scars decorating their skin, some fresh, revealing the nature of their occupation. It made you wonder what kind of campaigns they’d seen in the months they’d been away from Rome, what battles they’d fought, and the bonds they shared now. It was evident to you, as you studied them, that they all deferred to Marcus, he was the centre of every conversation, even if he wasn’t speaking. The officers would catch his eye, nod to him, share a look and a toast, and the admiration and loyalty his men held for him was noticeable. 

Your eyes flitted back to Marcus, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a crooked grin as one of his men retold a story from their march. All eyes were on the officer, and Marcust must’ve felt your gaze as he placed his cup back on the table. With a barely perceptible turn of his head he looked over at you, his eyes drifting down to your lips, gliding down over the folds of your stola, your hips, your thighs, lingering there for a moment, heating your core with looks alone. 

A raucous laughter jolted him back to the moment, turning his head away and joining in the cheering.   

Next to you, your husband suddenly shuddered, grabbing the edge of the table as he groaned. 

“Husband, you look pale, are you well?” you asked, as he shook his head and grimaced. 

“My stomach is plagued by cramps,” he muttered, “I feel like Mars is fighting a battle in there.” 

“I am not well either, uncle,” your nephew groaned, clasping his belly, beginning to get up, “Pardon me, general, I must excuse myself to the latrina.” 

Your husband stumbled to his feet as well, a feeble bow to the table, and they both hurried away, followed by two servants. 

“I-I apologise, general Acacius,” you stuttered as you began to rise to your feet. 

“Lady, please, do not trouble yourself,” Marcus made a gesture for you to sit down again, “My servants will see to that they are comfortable. If you are needed, they will come for you.” His eyes were kind, suddenly openly focused only on you, as the rest of the guests began to eat and converse again, now that the commotion of your husband leaving was over. 

“Thank you, general Acacius,” you replied, bowing your head in deference to him, as he raised his cup and bid you to drink with him. You did, and the wine went down smoothly again, warmth blossoming in your chest as you kept your eyes downcast and away from him. 

Marcus turned away as someone else tried to get his attention, but his demeanour was changed now and he turned back to you regularly, including you in the conversation as he praised the town’s thermae, asking if you knew who was responsible for the beautiful mosaic at the entrance. As the evening stretched on, your mood lifted, and you all but forgot about your husband and nephew, until one of the servants returned. 

“Domina,” the man bowed to you as you turned to look up at him, “Dominus Lunaris will return to the villa in the letica, they are both too ill to return to the fest. He bids you come at once.” 

You nodded and began to rise from the table, the other guests were also beginning to rise, and depart, thanking Acacius profusely for the feast. But the general waved one of them off with barely a glance as he heard the servant's words. 

“She cannot be exposed to whatever foul illness has befallen her husband and nephew,” he said, striding over to you as you were gathering your cloak to leave, “Lady, we have many guest bedrooms, it will be no trouble for you to stay the night and you can return to your house in the morning when the physician has examined your husband.”

He said it with such a commanding voice, it didn’t even occur to you that you could refuse. And he was already waving over one of his own servants, giving orders. 

“Go with Lunaris to his villa, and bring the lady’s maid back here with whatever the lady will need for the night,” Acacius ordered and then dismissed the man and turned back to you, “One of my servants will show you to your quarters for the night, I wish you a good night and I hope your husband is well in the morning.” 

With a sharp bow he turned away, and strode across the room to his officers, leaving you blinking and dazed. A female servant approached you and bowed. 

“Domina, please, let me show you to your quarters,” she said, holding out her arm for you to follow. With a quick backwards glance at Marcus, he was deep in conversation with one of his officers, you followed her into the private areas of the villa. Soon you were in one of the guest rooms, a luxurious space with all you would need for the night, and a bed for your maid in an alcove. As you sat down on the bed, the servant who had led you to the room, bowed and closed the door behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Marcus had been very quick to suggest that you stay, you hadn’t even had time to consider the implication. It wasn’t unheard of staying overnight when a feast ended late, but you’d never stayed on your own. And you were pretty sure it was the oysters that had given your husband and nephew upset stomachs. Oysters spoiled fast and although you loved them, you were always weary. There was no illness to be spread to you, and you wondered if Marcus didn’t know that too. If that was the case, what was his plan with keeping you here overnight? Alba would be sleeping in the same room as you, and although Alba had her fill of Marcus on Bona Dea, it was an altogether different prospect if he was to come to your room in the middle of the night. 

A knock on the door made you stand up and Alba entered, escorted by one of the servants who put down a bundle on a bench and then retreated. 

“Well, this is a strange situation,” Alba stated, as she sank down on the small bed in the alcove, “Lunaris returns home without you, his toga stained with the remains of dinner, reeking like a back alley, and then I’m told you’re to stay here tonight? Why couldn’t you come home?” 

“Our host was worried it was something foul that would pass to me if I went with them,” you said and Alba frowned, her pretty, round face questioning. 

“Our host, is it the same general as the one who…?” she let the rest of her question remain unspoken and you nodded as her eyes widened. “It occurred to me after you’d left, a new general in town, the man from…and now he’s here? Have you seen him?” She asked in a low voice. 

“I have, but he has said nothing of Bona Dea, thank the gods,” you exclaimed, “And he all but ignored Lunaris the whole evening, much to his irritation.” 

“He was in a nasty mood when he came back,” Alba said, “he even hit Siro when he wasn’t quick enough in opening the door.” 

You just shook your head at that, your husband was often in a foul mood, but he seldom took it out on the slaves in the household. But you knew he’d taken Acacius’s disinterest as an insult, and with the disastrous end to the evening, he’d be lashing out. You were sure you’d hear about it tomorrow as you returned to the villa. 

“Let that be tomorrow’s problem,” you said, “Let’s get some sleep, you must be tired, being dragged across town in the middle of the night.” 

Alba nodded and began to help you get undressed, taking down your hair and removing the silk stola, letting you pull on the simple tunic you slept in. You slipped under the covers as she undressed and extinguished all but one of the oil lamps before getting into her own bed. 

“Sleep well, sobrina,” she mumbled from the alcove, “dream sweetly about a handsome general with a huge…” 

You bit back your giggle as she laughed and left the end of her sentence hanging in the air. 

“You’re the worst, Alba,” you chuckled, “Sleep well indeed.” 

You rolled over onto your side and closed your eyes, but you knew sleep would be hard to find. His face swam into your mind, not the one from tonight’s feast, but the one he’d shown just this morning, when you’d been alone in your room. His deep brown eyes, warm and sleepy, satiated from the night, and the change in them as you’d kissed, his reluctance to leave. Maybe it was simply that it had been so long since a man made you feel that good, but Marcus had a dangerous hold on you. The memory of his hands, his mouth, it made you ache for him, even more so when you knew he was somewhere in this villa, probably already naked in his bed. Unbidden, the image of how he’d stood in the middle of the hall in your own villa, floated into your mind. He’d been blindfolded but proud, back straight and those wide shoulders squared as his cock grew hard just by the knowledge that all the women in the room were circling him, discussing how to use him. 

With a sigh you rolled over onto your back, Alba’s soft snores already came from the alcove. Your core ached and you carefully caressed your breasts, trying to remember what his mouth had felt like, wet and hot. 

A low, slow, knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts and you sat up, glancing first at the door and then at Alba. She hadn’t stirred so you pulled your cloak over the tunic and tiptoed to the door. A low knock came again, and through the wood you heard his voice. 

“Domina, it’s Marcus, I wish to speak with you.” 

You briefly closed your eyes to the tremor that ran through your body at the sound of his voice and what you were about to do. With shaking hands, you quietly opened the door. Marcus was standing on the other side with a small oil lamp in his hand and his handsome face pulled into a frown. 

“Please, come with me, we cannot be seen out here,” he whispered, “Is your maid asleep?” 

“Yes,” you whispered, glancing back at Alba, “and I trust her with my life, she’ll say nothing when I’m not here if she wakes.” 

“Good. Then come, quickly.” 

You silently closed the door behind you and followed Marcus’s retreating back, your bare feet silent on the floor of the hallway. He led you only a few doors down, quietly opening a door furthest away, and letting you step inside. It was pitch black, the shutters closed, but as you waited he moved into the room and lit a lamp, placing the one in his hand on a shelf. 

He turned and came to stand just in front of you, his hand taking yours in his, wrapping gently around your fingers. He was wearing a simple tunic and a cloak much like you, his hair looked like he’d tossed and turned in his bed before getting up again. Your hand felt small in his, his thumb stroking the thin skin of your wrist as he glanced down at it. 

“I didn’t know you’d be at the feast tonight, I wish I’d known,” he said in a low voice, “I fear I was very dismissive of you tonight in front of my guests. But I feared I’d betray too much if I spoke to you with your husband near.” He looked up to meet your eyes and the memory of how your husband had growelled for him came back to you, making you wince. 

“Marcus, I have to apologise for my husband’s behaviour, he is far too eager to impress you, I was-.” 

Marcus cut you off with a low growl, “My opinions of your husband weren’t very high to begin with after last night. But now? I cannot believe a woman like you is forced to live with such an oaf.” 

At the mention of last night, your cheeks heated and you dropped your gaze to the floor. 

“It was a good match for my father, in this town Lunaris is influential, and I was getting too old for marriage.” 

Marcus tilted his head to the side and regarded you as his eyes went soft and gentle again, “Carrisime, I can’t imagine there being anything but a long line of suitors at your father’s door. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, even a rival to Juno.” 

His praise, spoken in such a soft voice as his words filled your heart, made you feel almost shy as you shook your head. 

“I had a reputation for being difficult, headstrong. My younger sisters were much more meek and pliant, they were married off quickly. But when Lunaris' first wife died in childbirth, he married me for my father’s olive groves.” 

Marcus smiled, a small chuckle escaping him, “Headstrong, that I can easily believe,” he replied, “Never have I met a woman who so easily takes charge and orders a general around.” 

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” you gave him a crooked smile back, “You seemed to be fighting against it in the beginning.” 

Marcus huffed, his grin widening, “I’ve never seen Bona Dea celebrated like that before, and you’re right, I was uncertain at first. Being ordered by a woman is not something I’ve ever experienced since my dear mater told me off as a young boy.” 

“You got used to it quick enough,” you replied as his hand gently tugged at yours, pulling you closer. 

“I did, it was exhilarating, hearing your voice, touching me without seeing you, and then you asked me to make you as wet as the meretrix…” Marcus trailed off, his hand now caressing your bare arm, raising goose bumps on your skin. “I’d decided I wasn’t going to seek you out when you left the dining hall tonight, yet I found myself waiting for you in the hallway,” he said, caressing your shoulder, sliding his hand up along your neck. “And I’d decided I wasn’t going to say anything more to you after our kiss, let you leave with that oaf, but then he got sick, the gods must have heard my prayers,” his fingers were in your hair now, his body pressed to yours as you rested your palms on his sides, every one of his breaths felt in your fingertips. 

“And wasn’t going to come to your room tonight, I wasn’t going to touch you again, not lose myself in your scent, your soft lips, this warm body…” Marcus bent his head and ran the tip of his nose along your cheek, inhaling deeply as you exhaled into his ear, his breath skated across your skin as the soft strands of his greying beard raised more goosebumps on your neck. 

“But I want to lose myself in you,” he mumbled, his lips now close to your ear, his hand drifting over your curves, grabbing at what soft shapes he could find, “lose myself again in this wet cunt, so wet and warm for me already I think.” 

“Marcus…” you whispered, the need clear in your voice. This was foolish, dangerous even, but your body ached for him as you caressed his sides, hands sliding over his strong back, feeling it shift and flex as he moved his mouth over your skin, his hands lifting your tunic and grabbing warm flesh, fingers digging into your thighs. 

“If we’re caught, Marcus,” you mumbled against his hair as he buried his face against your neck, and you felt him nod. 

“Will you regret it?” he asked, still trailing wet kisses over your neck, the skin exposed by the neckline of your tunic. He wasn’t asking if you wanted him to stop, he already knew the answer to that, the way your hands were holding his body told him.  

“No, I wouldn’t be without this, I don’t want to-”  You cut yourself off, your mouth and heart running faster than your mind, in your head the rest of the sentence floated; “live without this.” 

“I would not be without this either, carissime,” Marcus whispered, guessing your words, “Maybe you truly are Diana, casting a spell on me.” 

You felt him smile against your neck and you tugged lightly at his locks, pulling his face up to yours to meet his warm eyes. 

“Maybe you’re Mars, that’s the only explanation for your spell on me,” you smiled at him. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he guided your mouth to his, his hands slipping higher up under your tunic, exposing you to him. 

It was difficult to remain quiet as you stumbled to the bed with Marcus holding you up. Your tunic dropped on the floor, followed by his as he settled between your spread legs, his shoulders holding them open for him. He gave you a wolfish grin as he dipped his head, running his nose along your slit with a satisfied growl at what he found. Biting down hard on your lip, you fell back on the bedding and tangled your fingers in his hair. The anticipation of what he was about to do, how it had felt the last time, made you tremble under his hands. He opened you up, spreading your folds and you could see him rake his eyes over what he saw, his tongue coming out to lick his lips before he glanced up at you. With a wicked smile he leaned forward and blew air over your sensitive nerves, making you clench around nothing and gasp. 

“I’m glad I get a chance to do this again, domina….” he murmured, nuzzling closer to your heat, inhaling deeply as his fingers spread you open more for him. You could feel his breath on your skin, ghosting over your folds as he seemed to relish in the smell and sight before him. The anticipation was building in you, making you tighten your grip on his curls. 

“Marcus….” you whispered, your voice low and pleading, but the rest was lost when he let his tongue lick a broad strip through your dripping core, rendering you speechless when his nose edged the swollen pearl at the apex of your sex.

As he had the night before, he all but feasted on you when he dove in. You could feel his tongue nudging deep into your opening, his nose circling your centre until he closed his mouth around it and sucked, teasing with his soft tongue. You bit back a loud moan when he slipped in two fingers, stretching you open. You felt him groan into you, mumbling under his breath as his fingers drove in and out, curling and stroking to bring you to the edge. It felt like an eternity but also like no time at all. You clapped your hand over your mouth and cried out as the wave broke, your hips pushing against his mouth, arching your body. His free hand held you down as he made you ride it out, prolonging every shudder through your body. 

With a deep breath you fell back against the bedding again, your body lax and shivering. Marcus moved up over your body, trailing sticky kisses across your abdomen as you caught your breath. You could feel his hard cock dragging over your skin now, leaking fat drops as he sought out any friction, moaning as he made his way up. His arms came around you, rolling you over on top of him and he spread your legs, putting your knees on either side of his hips. It took your addled brain a moment to understand what he wanted, but he pushed you both up, grabbing his cock with his hand and you felt him set the head at your opening. He hissed as he nudged against your wet folds. 

“Ride me, domina,” he mumbled, looking down between your bodies to where he was beginning to stretch you open. He sounded almost wrecked, pleading with you as you felt his hand on your hip tighten, pulling you down. Steadying yourself with your hands on his wide shoulders, you sank down, letting him guide you. Rocking up and down a few times, you worked him inside, the stretch making you inhale sharply, sinking down over him until there was no more space between you. 

Marcus was groaning into your skin, his face pressed against your neck, digging his fingers into your hips. You could feel him rolling his hips and his teeth nipped at your flesh, biting down, and he gave your thigh a slap, the sting jolting you up. 

“I said ride me, domina,” he hissed, “fuck yourself on me and let me feel you come again before I send you back to that groveling husband of yours with a my seed dripping out of your tight cunt.” 

It shouldn’t feel so good, but his words had you clenching hard around him as you lifted yourself up, only the head of him inside. The very thought of going back to your home tomorrow, with Marcus’s marks, bruises and seed in you…it made a fresh wave of arousal rush through. 

Marcus groaned like an animal when you sank down over him, his head tipped back and teeth bared. It made you feel powerful, this celebrated general of Rome, commander of armies, so lost to the feeling of you sinking down over him. With a smile you lifted yourself up, teasing him with the tip of him just inside your opening, moving your hips, and he hissed again, cursing low under his breath as he opened his eyes.  

“Domina…” he growled, panting hard as you slowly let him slip inside again, holding against his hands trying to pull you down faster. 

“Shouldn’t you obey your domina, general,” you smiled at him as you lifted yourself up again. The groan Marcus let out made your insides flutter, he was staring up at you with his beautiful dark eyes filled with lust and need, mouth parted and breathing heavy. 

“Domina…” he moaned, “I’ll obey your every word, please…” 

With a sigh you slowly sank down over him again and was rewarded by a deep groan from Marcus, his hips bucking under you as he held you tight. 

“How long can I keep you like this, general,” you mused, holding back a moan as his thick cock filled you up again. 

“With my cock inside you?” he said, air rushing out of his lungs as you rolled your hips over him, “not much longer, domina, your cunt is so tight, I will spill very soon…” 

You rolled your hips and lifted off him, only to slide down again, clenching around him, and he hissed, his fingers digging again into your hips as he cursed. 

“How long can I keep you in this room then?” you asked in a lower voice, moving over him as he nestled deep inside you. 

“Forever,” he panted out, “Always, carissime, stay with me,” his breath was coming out strained, almost pained as you picked up your speed, driving him in and out of your slick cunt. 

His words filled your heart and you cupped his face, kissing him fervently as you let his hands guide your hips up and down over his shaft as fast as he needed. His mouth was open under yours, his tongue tangled with yours as your hot breaths mingled and you could tell how close he was. When his thrusts became erratic, he pressed himself to you, groaning into your mouth and bruising your skin. As you felt his first hot spurt fill you up, your own climax broke and you stifled a cry, your body clamping down around him. Marcus was pounding up into you, his hands moved up from your hips to your shoulders, pulling you down over him, heady moans into your skin as he buried his face against your shoulder. 

You felt your breath slip from you as you slumped in his arms, your legs burning, the rush of your orgasm leaving you limp and drained again. Marcus was moving slowly under you, his arms flexing as he lifted you off him, pulling you down onto the bed. His body was hot and slick, a thin sheen of sweat, as he pulled you on to his chest. The thrumming of his heart was loud under your ear, calming down as you closed your eyes and relished in the feel of his warm body so close. The smell of his sweat, a scent that repulsed you when it came from your husband, made you feel content and safe under his arms. 

“Don’t sleep, carissime,” he whispered, his hand finding your hair and brushing it away from your cheek, “we can’t stay here, much as I’d like too.” 

“Just a little while, Marcus,” you mumbled, and you felt him nod above you while his hands caressed your back. 

“Just a little while then.” 

He let her fall asleep on his chest, staying awake while he felt their sated bodies cool down, drying the sweat on their warm skin. Then he carefully moved her sleeping form, slipping from under her soft body and leaving the warm bed. He donned his tunic and cloak, leaned down to kiss her cheek one more time, the sweet taste of her skin making him close his eyes and steel his resolve. 

He would not let this be the last time. 

Bona Dea - Part Three

Tagging the lovely crowd from the preview post!

@angiewatson @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @nerdieforpedro @legendary-pink-dot @musings-of-a-rose @for-a-longlongtime @oberynslady @chaoticfestninja @joelssapologist @mduluozz @jessthebaker @hellofeyradarling @pascalislove @flyingthroughheaven @criticalarchitecture @brittmb115 @dammit-hoechlin @li-anne @luly0607 @snow3096-blog @rainbowcat164 @suddendownpour @sherala007 @groovy-hippie-chick @grippysockedtoebeans @bonafideslacker @tupelomiss @rhiannon-girl @verge-of-tears-again @truffles-cat @jay-zzle @rav3n-pascal22 @chronically-ghosted @allaboutthebeskar @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @casa-boiardi

[0xstarzx0]

Don’t write it it stinks of toxic love

[PART3]

synopsis: Rafe presents an offer to Y/N that's more than tempting.

[English is not my native language❗️❗️] TW: insult, sex mentions, stalking, weed, alcohol, Racism .

______________________________________________ [PART2] —————————————————————————

Y/N 

The week had passed so quickly that you hadn't been able to forget the conversation you had with Rafe.

Nate wasn't mean, he was clingy and somewhat annoying, but it didn't bother you too much.

"Y/N, are you listening to me?" Your roommate Lana looks at you exasperated. "No, I mean yes, sorry, I was lost in thought."

She sighs and throws herself onto your bed. Crossing her arms on your chest, you look at her. Lana is a pretty girl, she had passed the cheerleading squad exam and was quite pleasant. She doesn't leave her clothes lying around, so for you everything is fine.

"Are you going to the party tonight?" she asks, sitting down. You snort and start drawing again. "Hell nah." Lana stands up and sits next to you.

"Why? It'll be an awesome party! Alcohol everywhere, weed, and music blasting!" She laughs.

You give her a desperate look.

You hate parties, hate is a weak word for what you feel.

Your first and only party went so bad that you've never been to one again.

"Parties aren't my thing." You shrug. Lana sighs and forces you to turn towards her.

"Yeah, cheerleading isn't your thing either, dancing isn't either, football isn't either, and you hate alcohol!" She says, shocked. You laugh "What's wrong with that?"

"Everything!" she says, throwing herself back in her chair.

You start drawing again. "I'll pay you if you come." Lana says, looking at your drawing. You put down your pencil and sink into your chair.

"Shit, are you that desperate?" you ask with a laugh.

"I'll pay you a hundred dollars if you stay the entire night." "One hundred and fifty and I'll stay for three hours." The blonde laughs bitterly.

"The party starts at eight and ends at six in the morning sweetheart." You grimace, stay until eleven o'clock at night? No thank you.

"Alright. I'll pay for all your art supplies for a month. It's been two years since you've had the same ones, you should change them."

The offer is tantalizing, your mother couldn't buy them for you. When your father decided to do his come out and kicked you and your mother and brother out. You ended up living in a shelter. Therefore, buying art supplies wasn't really your mom's top priority.

You bite the inside of your cheek. Lana smiles and bounces around. "Get dressed, we leave in less than an hour!" She cries out as she exits the room.

You sigh and go to get some clothes from your wardrobe.

✯

After ten minutes of searching for clothes, you had decided to wear a leopard print long skirt with a black top. Your hair was slicked back into a low bun with baby's hairs.

You and Lana were sitting in the backseat of the cheerleading captain's car.

They were all singing "Toxic" by Britney Spears.

God, these girls sing so badly. How much more comfortable you'd be in your room writing cheesy romance stories while listening to rb&nb instead of being here, having to listen to privileged daddy's girls sing horribly.

You look out the window when you feel your phone vibrate on your thighs. You look at and see a notification from Nate.

"Are you coming to the party or am I coming to spend the evening with you?"

You sigh and think about a response, saying yes would be an invitation for him to come spend the evening with you, and saying no would mean "Come to the house." At least for Nate

"Sick, bed, throwing up, alone."

You type these four words and send them to him. You are interested in Nate, but not in the same way he is interested in you

It would be a lie to say you didn't feel guilty. But what could you do about it?

The queen bee of the cheerleaders stops in front of a huge house, its lights of all colors and students more or less drugged out.

You get out of the car and Lana takes your arm. "We're going to take a drink to celebrate!" She says, trying to drag you into the house. You frown and shake your head.

"I don't drink." Lana looks at you pleadingly. "She's so lame. Would you rather have a bucket of fried chicken?" Said the captain.

You give her a crooked look and frown. "What this bi-" Lana nervous laughs and puts her hand over my mouth. "Klhoe that's a little racist."

Klhoe rolls her eyes. "You can't say anything anymore." She goes off, rolling her ass. Ass that don't exist.

Lana removes her hand from your mouth. "Slightly?! For you, saying that to a black person is only slightly racist?" You shout, Lana signs for you to lower your tone. "You shouldn't be mad at me, you should be mad at her!"

You breathe loudly and enter the house, needing a drink.

NATE

Nate inhales the smoke from his mouth, putting his phone in his pocket. "Yo dude, why are you making that face?" asks Vincent, Nate's new "best" friend.

Nate sighs and takes a hit on the joint before passing it to him. "Y/N-" "Again her?!" interrupts Vincent.

Nate glares at Vincent. "Yeah, man, I swear she's not like the other dumb ones who are only worried about their bags! She's educated, beautiful, and God, have you seen her in a bikini?!"

Vincent laughs and passes the joint to his teammate. "Tell me?" Vince asks. Nate settles comfortably on the couch. Just the thought makes him hard.

"Her tits overflow, limit they say hello and her ass fuck! all moves every time she takes a step. I remember when I saw her, I wanted to take her doggy style. Hmm yeah." Nate leans down on the table to get a line. "She’s got such a big ass that the bikini doesn’t hide anything."

Vincent laughs before doing a line himself. "You sharing?"

"Dude, I'm planning on making her the mother of my kids, shithead." Nate isn't lying, he really means it.

If it didn't work out with Maddy, there's no way it's not going to work out with you, and that, Nate is convinced of.

RAFE

Rafe listens without interest to a girl telling him her life story. She has a pipe mouth but that's about it.

She is not at all the type for Rafe, Rafe likes to show off his wealth and life, but when others do it, it's not interesting.

The girl whispers some enticingly sweet proposals to Rafe.

Shit, she really wants to get fucked.

She pushes against Rafe's pants. "Join me in Connor's bedroom in five minutes." She nibbles on his ear and leaves.

Rafe smiles. She was clearly pathetic but still pleased to know that she will wait for him with her legs open.

The kook weaves through the people to create a path to get to the kitchen.

Rafe arrives in the kitchen and heads towards the fridge when he sees a girl talking to another. "Come on, it won’t hurt you! It’s just vodka!" says a small blonde. "Fuck you Lana." Says her friend, closing the fridge.

His eyes widened, if having dirty thoughts just by seeing you was a crime then hell, he would be sentenced for life.

Rafe didn't particularly like you, but he was still quite interested in you to put you in his bed. But one of the reasons why Rafe was really, really interested, was because Nate love you.

He moves behind you, his hot breath on your neck instantly awakens your senses. "Boo"

You turn around, ready to hit the perv behind you but Rafe catches your hand before you can. "Hey...? What's your name again?"

You sigh and glare at Rafe. "My arm, dumbass." Rafe looks at you annoyed.

He's so tempted to insult you, but if he does, he won’t be able to use you as a weapon against Nate.

He sighs and lets go of your arm. "You came."

You massage your wrist. "Not for you." Rafe nods and casts a glance at your friend, Lana?

He doesn't know, but she's as red as a tomato. "Do you mind if we have a few minutes?" Rafe says to the blonde.

Lana nods and leaves, despite you telling her to stay.

"So, what do we do?" asks Rafe as he looks at you. "We?"You ask, frowning.

"Listen, uh-," you cut him off. "Y/N" you answer coldly. Rafe shrugs like he's saying, "I already knew."

You roll your eyes and start to leave. "Hey wait!" Rafe follows you. "You don’t want to get sucked by a girl who wants to?"

Rafe steps in front of you. "Listen Y/N, I really need your help to calm down this bastard Jacobs. He hasn’t stopped sending you messages, right?" You don’t answer and cross your arms.

You have several times seen your panties disappear or even felt observed. It could have been a weird guy, then one day you found your panties in Nate's bedroom.

Even if you don’t want to believe it, he could be the weirdo who is stalking you.

"What do you want from me?" You cross your arms over your chest.

"I just want you to spend the evening acting like something is going on between us. Nate will see us and-"

"Nate is here?!" you blurt out, looking around. If he sees you, he won’t leave you alone. "Stop panicking, he won’t see you, he's upstairs getting high."

You calm down and look at him. "People will talk, they'll see you with me and bam, not only will your popularity increase-" "I don’t care about that." Rafe gives you a mean look. "Shut up, everyone wants to be popular."

"Y/N I really need you. Do I have to pay you to get you to agree?"You look down at the ground. "Nate better leave me alone." Rafe smiles, "I knew you weren’t a slut."

You roll your eyes and start to walk away. Rafe follows, putting his hand in the dip of your back. "Take your fucking hand off me." Rafe takes a hurt look. "You gotta be realistic honey." A guy from the football team comes to high-five Rafe. "Yo man, I’d like to introduce 

Y/N." The guy looks you up and down.

Instinctively, you press yourself against Rafe.

Something in his look worries you. Rafe notices and leads you away. "Avoid him, he has the nasty habit of slipping stuff into girls' drinks." You freeze.

"And if he decides to spike my drink?!" Rafe shrugs, "I’ll defend you."

______________________________________________

PART4

taglists 🏷️ (

@annhearttihaehe

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[smashhed]

|| The King's Gambit ||

🔞 Sukuna x Y/N Minors DNI| TRIGGER WARNING 🔞

Plot: Sukuna in a human world as a mafia boss so things will surely get steamy . Can you handle it ?

Tags- Breast sucking ,killing, mafia ,lust ,revenge ,sex ,plot , fights , gun , gore, action

NOTE : Hey readers,

I just wanted to drop a quick note to let you know that I’m new to the smut genre. Previously, I’ve been writing action fiction novels on other platforms, and now I’m trying to blend some of that action-packed excitement into my new work here. I hope you enjoy the mix of intense action and steamy scenes!

For the love of all things holy, if you're a minor reading this, stop right now. This content is meant for adults only, and I swear to god, if I find out you're reading this, and complaining and crying about it , I'm gonna beat your ass. Stay safe and read responsibly! Divider Credit : @cafekitsune

The city was like a giant maze of metal and glass, full of dark corners and secrets. In the middle of all this, Sukuna, a feared mafia boss, was in charge. His name alone was enough to scare people, and he had a reputation for being tough and powerful.

Tonight, though, things were going to get interesting.

Y/N loved adventure. Her job as a reporter had taken her to some risky places, and this city was no exception. She had heard rumors about Sukuna, the mysterious mafia leader, and she was curious. Wanting to find out more and hoping for a big story, she followed clues that seemed to lead to where he was.

As Y/N navigated the dimly lit streets, her heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. She knew this was dangerous, but the potential reward was too tempting to ignore.

Sukuna was sitting in his fancy office high up in a skyscraper, far above the busy, dirty streets of the city. The office was decorated with expensive furniture, making it look very different from the rough streets below. He was looking through some reports when one of his guys came in, looking nervous.

"Boss, we found someone snooping around the warehouse area. What should we do?" the man asked, his voice shaking a bit.

Sukuna's expression turned serious. "Who's brave enough to mess around in my area?" "It's a woman, boss. She seems determined, like some sort of journalist," the man replied, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

Sukuna's interest was piqued. "Bring her to me. But make sure she's unharmed."

Y/N didn’t expect to be caught so quickly. Suddenly, a few well-dressed but scary-looking men surrounded her. Before she knew it, they grabbed her.

"Let me go!" she demanded, trying to break free.

"The boss wants to see you," one of them told her without any emotion.

They brought her to Sukuna's office. As she was pushed inside, her breath caught in her throat. The man behind the desk was as intimidating as the stories said. His presence filled the room, and his eyes seemed to see right through her.. His penetrating gaze seemed to strip away her defenses, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here ?" Sukuna's voice was smooth as silk, yet laced with a subtle threat. "A journalist, nosing around where she shouldn't be."

Y/N squared her shoulders, meeting Sukuna's intense stare with defiance. "I'm Y/N. And I'm here for a story."

Sukuna leaned back, a small smirk appearing on his face. "A story, is it? You must be quite brave or quite foolish to come here for that."

"Perhaps," Y/N replied, her tone unwavering despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Sukuna's eyes gleamed with amusement. He admired her courage, even as he contemplated the implications of her intrusion. "Very well, Y/N. I'll entertain your request for a story. But know that it comes with a price."

Y/N frowned, her curiosity piqued. "What sort of price are we talking about?"

Sukuna leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "You want a story? Then you'll have to play by my rules. You'll have exclusive access to my world, but in return, you'll owe me a debt—one that I will call upon when the time is right."

Y/N hesitated, weighing the risks against the potential reward. But in the end, her thirst for a groundbreaking story outweighed her apprehension. With a nod, she accepted Sukuna's terms, knowing that delving into his world would be a dangerous game—one where the stakes were higher than she could have ever imagined.

Y/N hesitated. It was a dangerous proposition, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. " Fine. I agree."

Sukuna's smile widened. "Good. Let the games begin."

That night, Y/N was given a room in Sukuna's mansion. It was luxurious, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being a prisoner. She lay in bed, thinking about the man she had just met. There was something magnetic about him, something that drew her in despite the danger.

Meanwhile, Sukuna sat in his study, thinking about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had ever met. Fearless, determined, and undeniably attractive. He was intrigued by her, and that was a feeling he wasn't used to.

The next few days were a whirlwind. Y/N followed Sukuna as he conducted his business. She saw the darker side of his world, but also moments of unexpected kindness. He was a complex man, and the more she learned about him, the more fascinated she became.

One evening, after a particularly tense meeting with a rival gang, Sukuna and Y/N found themselves alone in his office.

"You handled that well," Y/N said, breaking the silence.

Sukuna looked at her, his eyes intense. "You surprise me, Y/N. Most people would be terrified in your position."

"I'm not most people," she replied, meeting his gaze.

Sukuna stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "No, you're not."

There was a charged silence between them. Y/N's heart raced as Sukuna reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

" You should be careful," he murmured, his voice low. "Playing with fire can get you burned."

Y/N's breath hitched. "Maybe I like the heat."

Sukuna's eyes darkened with desire. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."

"And you're enjoying every minute of it," she shot back.

Sukuna's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Maybe I am."

Over the next few days, the tension between Sukuna and Y/N grew. They were like two magnets, drawn together despite the danger. Sukuna was captivated by Y/N's spirit, and she was drawn to his raw power.

One night, Sukuna took Y/N to a high-end club. It was a place where deals were made and alliances formed. As they entered, all eyes were on them. Y/N felt a thrill of excitement and danger.

They danced, the music pulsing around them. Sukuna's hands were possessive on her waist, and Y/N felt a shiver of anticipation. She looked up at him, their faces inches apart.

"This is your world," she said softly. "But it feels like we're in our own little universe."

Sukuna's grip tightened. "As long as you're with me, you're part of it."

Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Then let's make it ours."

Sukuna pulled her closer, their bodies moving in perfect sync. The heat between them was undeniable, and Y/N felt like she was on fire.

Just as they were lost in each other, chaos erupted. Gunshots rang out, and the crowd panicked. Sukuna immediately shielded Y/N, his eyes scanning the room for threats.

"Stay close to me," he ordered, his voice deadly calm.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. They moved through the chaos, Sukuna taking down attackers with ruthless efficiency.

When a man with a gun emerged from the shadows, aiming directly at them, Sukuna's response was lightning-fast. He quickly pushed Y/N behind a pillar for safety, then charged the gunman. As he closed the distance, he ducked under a sloppy shot, rolled forward, and sprang up right in front of the attacker. Using his forearm, he blocked another attempted shot and twisted the gunman's arm sharply, forcing him to drop the weapon. With a swift uppercut, Sukuna knocked the gunman out cold.

Another attacker charged at Sukuna, wielding a knife. Sukuna sidestepped, grabbing the attacker's wrist, and delivered a low kick to the assailant’s knee, destabilizing him. As the man stumbled, Sukuna used his grip on the wrist to flip the attacker over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. The knife skittered across the floor, and Sukuna quickly kicked it into a corner.

Y/N, from behind the pillar, watched Sukuna with a mix of fear and awe. His movements were precise and calculated, his expression focused and unyielding.

More attackers rushed towards Sukuna, but he was ready. He swiftly picked up the dropped gun and switched to defensive stance. He fired several controlled shots, each aimed with deadly precision, incapacitating his assailants one by one. The sharp reports of the gun echoed through the club, overshadowing the chaotic screams around them.

Sukuna’s agility and combat prowess were on full display as he ducked a wild swing from another attacker, countered with a jab to the throat, followed by a knee to the stomach, and a powerful palm strike to the chest that sent the man flying backward.

As the last of the attackers fell, the intensity in Sukuna’s eyes faded slightly. He turned back to Y/N, his posture relaxing as he walked over to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, his tone shifting from the commanding fierceness of battle to concerned softness.

Y/N nodded, her voice shaky from adrenaline. " Yes, I’m okay, thanks to you. That was… incredible."

Sukuna cracked a small, confident smile. "Glad to hear that. Stay close to me, it’s not over until we’re out of here."

Back at the mansion, Sukuna and Y/N tended to their wounds. The danger they had just faced brought them even closer.

"Sukuna," Y/N said quietly, breaking the silence. "Why did you bring me into your world?"

Sukuna looked at her, his expression unreadable. "At first, it was curiosity. But now... it's more than that."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

Sukuna took a deep breath. "I've never met anyone like you, Y/N. You challenge me, make me feel things I haven't felt in a long time."

Y/N's eyes softened. " I feel the same way, Sukuna. "

He reached out, taking her hand in his. "This is dangerous, you know that, right?"

Y/N nodded. "I don't care. I'm not afraid."

As their conversation simmered with tension, Sukuna's gaze darkened with desire. "You want to play with danger, Y/N?" he murmured huskily, his voice dripping with seduction. Y/N's pulse quickened as she met his gaze head-on. " I'm not afraid to explore every inch of you," she whispered, her words a challenge. Sukuna smirked, his dominant aura filling the room.

"I want to possess every inch of you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice laced with desire.

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her body already craving his touch. "Then take me, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice thick with longing. With a growl, Sukuna claimed her lips in a fierce kiss,

Sukuna's eyes darkened with raw desire as he pinned Y/N against the wall, his body pressed flush against hers. " You're mine, Y/N, " he growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. Y/N gasped at the intensity in his gaze, feeling a rush of heat pooling between her legs. "Claim me, Sukuna," she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. With a predatory smirk, Sukuna trailed kisses along her neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "I'll make you mine in every way," he vowed, his hands exploring her body with a hunger that sent shivers down her spine .

Sukuna's lips trailed along Y/N's neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her like a predator savoring its prey. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she surrendered to his dominance, her body arching against his with a desperate need. "You're mine, Y/N," Sukuna growled possessively, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "And tonight, I'm going to show you just how much you belong to me." With a hungry moan, Y/N nodded, her desire burning like wildfire

With a wicked grin, Sukuna's fingers trailed down Y/N's body until they reached her throbbing clit. "You like it when I tease you, don't you, Y/N?" he purred, his voice laced with dominance. Y/N whimpered in response, her hips instinctively pressing against his hand, craving more of his touch. "Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice thick with desire. Sukuna's smirk widened as he circled her clit with expert precision, driving her to the edge of madness with each teasing touch. " You're so beautiful when you're desperate for me," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Sukuna suddenly stopped, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked at Y/N teasingly. "Do you want more, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dripping with dominance. Y/N's breath hitched as she stared up at him, her body throbbing with need. "Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice a desperate plea. Sukuna smirked, reveling in her desperation before resuming his ministrations with renewed vigor. "You have to earn it, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Sukuna's smirk widened as he gazed down at Y/N, his dominance radiating from every inch of his being. " If you want more, Y/N, you'll have to show me how much you want it," he teased, his voice thick with desire. Y/N's heart raced at his command, her need for him burning hotter than ever. "I'll show you, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. With a wicked grin, Sukuna leaned back, his cock throbbing with anticipation as Y/N eagerly took him into her mouth, sucking him like she meant it

Sukuna watched with smug satisfaction as Y/N took him into her mouth like a hungry prey, her lips wrapping around him with eager determination. "That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Show me how much you crave me." Y/N moaned around him, the vibrations sending waves of ecstasy coursing through Sukuna's body. "You're mine to devour, Y/N," he growled, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her movements.

Sukuna's eyes widened with surprise as Y/N suddenly deepthroated him, her mouth engulfing him with a hunger that left him breathless. "Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're even more skilled than I thought." Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued, her movements relentless as she took him deeper and deeper. "You like that, Sukuna?" she teased, her voice husky with desire. Sukuna could only nod in response, his mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of her mouth around him

Sukuna's fingers found their way to Y/N's throbbing clit as she deepthroated him, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. "You like it when I take control, don't you, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice thick with dominance. Y/N moaned around him, her hips bucking against his hand as she surrendered to his touch. "Yes, Sukuna," she gasped, her voice muffled by his length. Sukuna smirked, relishing in the power he held over her as he continued to pleasure her without mercy

With a primal growl, Sukuna seized control, flipping Y/N onto her back as he positioned himself between her thighs. "You're mine to claim, Y/N," he declared, his voice dripping with dominance. Y/N's breath hitched with anticipation as she felt him enter her, his length filling her like never before. "Yes, Sukuna," she moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and surrender Sukuna's throbbing cock plunged into Y/N's wet pussy, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "Oh, Sukuna," she moaned, her voice a symphony of ecstasy as he pounded her relentlessly. Sukuna's primal growls filled the room as he claimed her as his own, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you, Y/N?" he grunted, his voice thick with desire. Y/N could only nod in response, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their passion. 

Sukuna's hands eagerly seized Y/N's breasts, and with a swift, decisive motion, he tore apart her top, revealing her pert nipples to his hungry gaze. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as he took her sensitive peaks into his mouth, his lips and tongue working wonders on her flesh, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through her entire being. With each suck and nibble, she felt herself unraveling under his skilled ministrations, her body responding instinctively to his every touch.

"Oh, Sukuna," Y/N moaned, her back arching in pleasure as she surrendered herself to the overwhelming sensations washing over her. Her fingers clawed at his back, urging him closer as she sought to immerse herself fully in the ecstasy of their shared passion. Sukuna groaned in satisfaction, his hunger for her growing with each passing moment, his dominance radiating from every fiber of his being.

"You're mine, Y/N," Sukuna declared, his voice thick with possessiveness as he claimed her with each fervent kiss and caress. Y/N could do nothing but whimper in response, completely lost in the intensity of their connection.

Sukuna shifted Y/N onto her back, his eyes ablaze with desire. "You ready for more, baby?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. Y/N nodded eagerly, her breath coming in short gasps as she braced herself for his next move.

With a primal grunt, Sukuna thrust into her once again, his cock filling her completely. "Oh god, yes!" Y/N cried out, her voice filled with ecstasy as she surrendered to the pleasure of his powerful thrusts. Sukuna's lips crashed down on hers, his kisses hot and urgent as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

Their bodies moved together in a frenzied rhythm, each thrust driving them both closer to the edge. "You feel so good, Y/N," Sukuna moaned, his voice rough with desire. Y/N's nails dug into his back, her cries of pleasure mingling with his 

Sukuna's voice was a low, husky whisper against Y/N's ear as he spoke, "I want to make you cum, baby. Let me feel you unravel around me." Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her body quivering with anticipation.

"Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice dripping with need. "Make me cum hard."

With a predatory grin, Sukuna increased the pace of his thrusts, driving her closer to the edge with each powerful movement. "You're so close, Y/N," he murmured, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "Let go for me."

Y/N's fingers clenched the sheets as she surrendered to the pleasure building inside her, her cries of ecstasy filling the room as she finally reached the peak of her pleasure. "Yes, Sukuna, yes!" she screamed, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

Sukuna's cock throbbed with anticipation as Y/N reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, her walls gripping him tightly as she came hard. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight," he groaned, feeling her hot juices coating his dick. With a primal roar, he released himself deep inside her, filling her pussy with his hot, sticky cum.

But Sukuna wasn't satisfied yet. His hunger for her was insatiable, and with a predatory gleam in his eyes, he continued to pound into her relentlessly. "You like that, don't you, Y/N? You want more of my cock?" he growled, his voice dripping with lust.

Y/N could only whimper in response, her body writhing beneath him as she begged for more. With each powerful thrust, Sukuna felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge once again. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, baby," he grunted, his voice thick with desire.

And with one final, powerful thrust, Sukuna emptied himself inside her for a second time, their combined moans filling the room as they surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of their shared climax.

With a satisfied smirk, Sukuna leaned down to kiss Y/N passionately, his lips claiming hers with a possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine. "You're mine now, Y/N," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with dominance. "I've claimed you as mine, and there's no going back."

Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to him. "Yes, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice a breathless affirmation of her submission to him.

Their night was a whirlwind of passion, each moment hotter than the last. They fucked again and again, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they sought to quench their insatiable desire for each other.

With every thrust, Sukuna claimed Y/N as his own, their moans of pleasure echoing in the darkness as they surrendered themselves completely to the fire of their passion. They explored every inch of each other's bodies, leaving no part untouched as they reveled in the ecstasy of their shared pleasure.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, they finally collapsed in each other's arms, sated and spent from their night of passion. With a contented sigh, Sukuna pulled Y/N close, holding her tightly against him as they drifted off to sleep, their bodies entwined in a blissful embrace.

The next few days were a blur of action and emotion. Sukuna and Y/N grew closer, their bond deepening with each passing moment. They were a formidable team, each pushing the other to new heights.

But the danger was always lurking, and they both knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to them.

The inevitable showdown arrived with the fury of a storm. A rival gang, determined to dethrone Sukuna, launched a full-scale attack on his mansion under the cover of night. Bullets rained and explosions lit up the dark sky, signaling the start of a merciless battle.

Sukuna and Y/N stood back to back, their resolve steeling them against the onslaught. Sukuna's eyes were ice-cold with focus, his gun firing with the precision of a seasoned warrior, each shot synchronized with his breathing. Beside him, Y/N matched his rhythm, her own gun spitting fire at any figure that dared advance.

One thug tried to look menacing but slipped on his own shoelaces and went flying past them. Sukuna couldn't help but snort.

"Watch this," Sukuna whispered to Y/N as he spotted another group trying to flank them. He waited until they were awkwardly clustered together, then lobbed a smoke grenade. The gang members stumbled around, bumping into each other like characters in a silent film.

Y/N giggled, covering her mouth. "They're like penguins on ice!"

"Cover me," Sukuna said, diving into the fray with a bit more flair than necessary. He rolled, not because he needed to, but because it looked cool. When he came up, his hair was perfectly tousled—somehow it always was, even in a gunfight.

A large, burly thug swung a crowbar at Sukuna, who dodged and quipped, "You need to hit the gym, mate!" before delivering a punch

A thug lunged at him with a knife, slashing wildly. Sukuna dodged to the side, his arm whipping out to catch the man's wrist, twisting it viciously until the knife clattered to the ground. With a swift uppercut, he sent the attacker sprawling.

"Y/N, watch out!" Sukuna yelled as he saw another assailant sneaking behind her. Y/N spun around just in time, her fist connecting with the attacker's jaw in a satisfying crunch.

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Amidst the chaos, a burly figure emerged— the leader of the rival gang. He was flanked by his best men, who moved with lethal intent towards Sukuna and Y/N.

Sukuna met the gang leader's gaze, his expression grim. "This ends tonight," he growled.

The leader smirked, cracking his knuckles. " You're in over your head, Sukuna. "

With a roar, Sukuna charged, ducking as the leader swung a heavy pipe. He countered with a jab to the abdomen, followed by a sharp hook to the face, staggering the larger man.

Meanwhile, Y/N battled two assailants. She ducked a wild swing, pivoting to deliver a kick that knocked the wind out of her opponent. As the second man raised his gun, Y/N grabbed his arm, twisting and using his own body to shield herself as she disarmed him, throwing him over her shoulder onto the ground.

"Y/N!" Sukuna shouted, distracted for a split second as he saw her struggle. That moment was all the leader needed. He landed a heavy blow to Sukuna's side, a knife slicing through his shirt and skin.

"Stay with me, Sukuna," Y/N cried out, dispatching another attacker before rushing to his side. Blood was beginning to stain his shirt, but his eyes burned with an unquenchable fire.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sukuna gritted out, pushing past the pain. With a fierce yell, he launched himself at the gang leader. They traded blows, the sound of flesh and bone meeting echoing above the gunfire. Sukuna's movements were a blur, a ballet of violence, as he parried, dodged, and struck with ruthless efficiency.

Finally, with a powerful combination of strikes, Sukuna landed a devastating blow to the leader’s temple, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

The remaining attackers, seeing their leader defeated, began to falter. Sukuna and Y/N seized the momentum, pushing back with renewed vigor until the last of the attackers fled into the night.

With the last of the attackers gone, the mansion was left in ruins. Smoke and dust hung in the air, and the once luxurious rooms were now a battlefield.

Y/N rushed to Sukuna's side, her heart pounding with fear. "Sukuna, you're hurt."

He smiled, though it was strained. "It's just a scratch."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, her voice trembling. "Stay with me, Sukuna. Don't you dare leave me."

Sukuna reached out, cupping her face in his blood-stained hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he said softly, his eyes filled with determination.

With a final, desperate push, they managed to defeat the attackers. The mansion was in ruins, but they had survived.

As they stood amidst the wreckage, Y/N looked at Sukuna, her eyes filled with love and determination.

"We did it," she said softly.

Sukuna pulled her into his arms, his lips brushing her ear. "Yes, we did. And as long as we have each other, nothing can stop us."

In the aftermath of the battle, Sukuna and Y/N began to rebuild. Their love had been tested and had emerged stronger than ever. They knew their future would be filled with challenges, but they were ready to face them together.

As they stood on the balcony of their new home, looking out over the city, Sukuna took Y/N's hand in his.

"This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with promise.

Y/N smiled, leaning into him. "And I can't wait to see what the future holds."

With their hearts intertwined and their love burning bright, they were ready to take on the world.

Together. THE END { or is it <3 ? }