#but her story was too tempting tonight

[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.” 

[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

[pinksturniolo]

Biggest Fan: Part One

Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: The one in which a fan gets rear ended in a car accident by none other than Christopher Sturniolo during her stay in Los Angeles.

A/N: This is my first series I will be publishing on here! There will most likely be 3 or 4 parts. I hope you like it and I’m really excited to share with you all. :)

Content Warnings: smutty smut, oral receiving/giving, penetration, slight degradation, fingering, teasing, overstimulation, swearing, brief mentions of blood, head injuries, mentions of a car accident

side note: there is no smut in this part, but it will be coming soon I promise! ;) It's pretty long because this is part of a series so I like to develop the plot and use a lot of dialogue, but I will be doing shorter stories, like one shots in the future as well! enjoy <3

word count: 3,076 😮‍💨

I was inspired by this song:

𐮙ღ✰☾✿ღ𐮙

Summer 2023

Your toes sink into the sand, the warmth of the sun beaming down on your skin, as you take a cold sip of the cheap wine cooler you bought before you came to the beach. You and two of your closest friends from college decided on a whim to take a road trip from your hometown to Los Angeles, California. You all had the next week off for summer break and getting drunk and sunburnt on the West Coast sounded like a pretty great idea. You watched dozens of people walk along the coastline, several enjoying the water and others playing in the sand, some groups playing volleyball. You can’t remember the last time you went to the beach or even on a vacation. The last two years, you have been completely immersed in your studies, barely having time to relax, let alone have any time to yourself.

Los Angeles was the perfect getaway. Tonight, you had all agreed to splurge and go out to eat at a restaurant in Hollywood, just to get the full experience. Maybe even spot a celebrity or two. Your mind briefly thought of the idea of running into the Sturniolo Triplets, who you were obsessed with recently (which your friends were painfully aware of). But of course, that was delusional and the odds of seeing them were one in a million.

After a couple hours of enjoying the sun and sand, you headed back to your hotel to get ready for dinner. You chose to wear a pair of cute mom jeans, a tube top and cardigan, and a nice pair of sneakers. You didn’t want to dress up too much as you already felt tired from the beach and planned on crashing out in your bed right after dinner. You all went to eat at a gorgeous Italian restaurant, thoroughly enjoying the night, laughing and talking over good food and wine.

Once you got back to the hotel, you told your friends goodnight and went to your separate room, immediately hopping in the shower and changing into a comfortable pair of flannel pajama shorts and an old band t-shirt. You had talked about going out to a club or bar but you felt exhausted. This was your first day of vacation and already you had been stressing about your classes. Your friends forced you to leave your computer at home so that you weren’t tempted to do some extra credit for your school work. Sometimes you found it hard to just relax and take a break. You were trying to learn to simply live in the moment and stop thinking so hard about what to do next. Still, your mind raced as you lay in bed, attempting to sleep. Rain pelted the window of your room as it started to storm outside. You loved when it rained, the calming sound of thunder and raindrops on the roof usually coaxed you to sleep quickly. But tonight, you couldn’t stop tossing and turning. You were wide awake. You had the sudden urge to get up and do something – anything – to entertain you that hopefully would tire you out enough to finally go to sleep.

You got out of bed and slipped on your converse, not bothering to change your pajamas. You had decided to just go to the drive through and get an ice cream. A midnight snack would be just the thing you needed.

These were the events that had led up to you now in your car halfway down the street from the Wendy’s you stopped at, vanilla frosty in your hand, the other hand on the steering wheel as you stopped at a red light. The radio played softly as you ate your ice cream, streetlights illuminating the dark streets. There were only a few people on the road being that it was nearly one in the morning. The palm trees swayed slightly with the breeze, rain still coming down although not as hard as before. This is nice, you thought. This is my vacation. There is no time for stress. Once I get back to my room, I’ll get some rest. Tomorrow, me and the girls will go out sightseeing. Maybe even go to the–

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang behind you as you felt your body jolt forward harshly, you frosty dropping out of your hand, vanilla soft serve spilling all over your lap and steering wheel. Your air bag went off, a piece snapping painfully against your forehead. It happened so quickly you barely had time to register it. After a good thirty seconds, you realized you had just been rear ended. Great. You thought. This is the last thing I needed. You looked out of your rear-view mirror to see a Kia attached to your bumper. The culprit, from what you could see through the tinted window, looked to be a boy around your age with long brown hair. You sighed in frustration, leaning your head back against the headrest. You hated confrontation, especially in situations like these. Not to mention you’d have to file this with insurance and that was another headache in itself. Reluctantly, you opened your door, stepping out into the wet street.

Fuck. You didn’t have an umbrella with you. Talk about the fucking cherry on top. Luckily the rain had significantly got lighter than earlier, and it wasn’t thunder and lightning anymore. You closed the door, walking towards the other car but stopped dead in your tracks once you recognized the person that had crashed into you.

There was absolutely no way. Had you actually fallen asleep in your hotel room and were currently dreaming? Because there was just no way that you were standing in the middle of the street, rain currently soaking through your pajamas which were also sticky with ice cream, staring at Christopher Sturniolo who had rear ended your car. Who also happened to be in a yelling match with Matt and Nick at the current moment. You had to be dreaming.

Your feet were frozen to the ground as you stood there, physically unable to move. How does one even go about approaching them? Oh, hey funny to see you guys here. I know you just crashed into my car but don’t worry about it. I’ll just be on my way back to the comfort of my bed so I can completely avoid this insane situation and also avoid making a complete idiot of myself….

“Chris, are you fucking serious?!”

“This is the last time I ever let you drive, you’re obviously incapable.”

“Will both of you shut the fuck up! I can’t find my phone; I think it went under the seat.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious. He just hit another car and the kid is worried about his phone.”

“I’d be more worried about the insurance and how much we’re gonna have to pay for this!!”

“Oh my God! I said shut the fu-“

They didn’t seem to even notice you, too caught up in their bickering as you had slowly walked closer, your voice quiet and timid.

“Uh, hey… Don’t worry about insurance or anything. If you don’t wanna claim it, I’m cool with that.”

You interrupted, trying to hide your visibly shaking hands and crossing your arms.

All three boys halted their conversation, turning to look at you with wide eyes as if they almost forgot there was another human being inside the car they had just hit.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Excuse my brother, he actually has half a brain and apparently the inability to drive.” Nick said, an apologetic look on his face and then turning to glare at Chris.

Chris glared back at him, finally finding his phone from underneath the seat. He made eye contact with you, his glare turning into a sheepish look. He ran a hand through his hair, his mouth opening to speak to you, but Matt stepped in front, approaching you.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m actually the one who owns this car and I have great insurance so I promise it will all be taken care of.” He says, with a nice smile. You smile back politely, still holding onto your arms and trying not to freak out at the fact you’re actually conversing with these people right now.

“Are you sure? I mean, the damage isn’t that bad. I wont mind just forgetting this happened and calling it a night.” You laugh nervously, glancing at the busted bumper on your car. In all honesty, it actually wasn’t too bad. You would need a new bumper for sure, which might put a dent in your wallet but at the current moment you wanted nothing but to get the fuck out of there.

“No way! It wouldn’t feel right if we just walked away from this. Matt will get all the details and take care of it.” Nick chimed in, an identical smile to Matt’s on his face that made you feel just a little more comfortable.

Meanwhile Chris leaned up against the car, unusually quiet and with a look of stress over his features, stealing glances at you every now and them. He definitely felt guilty for causing the accident and he knew he would never hear the end of it from his brothers. He stared at his shoes and tucked his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, waiting while you exchanged information with Matt.

You typed your insurance information into Matt’s phone handing it back, while he handed you yours. You suddenly felt a twinge of pain on your forehead and winced, reaching up to touch it. It was then that you noticed there was about a 2-inch gash from the airbag snapping in your face. It didn’t feel too deep, but it hurt. Matt and Nick both noticed and Nick instinctively reached out to grab your arm. “Are you okay? It looks like its bleeding.” He said in concern. Chris then snapped his head up, his attention fully on you now. He walked over to Nick and Matt, a look of pure terror on his face as he stared at the cut on your head.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’ve had worse, I promise. I just need to get back to my hotel and clean it up.” You say reassuringly. But they were not buying it.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should call an ambulance? I really don’t want anything bad to happen.” Chris says.

“An ambulance? Don’t be dramatic, Chris. Maybe she just needs to sit down for a while.” Matt responds quickly. He looks at you like you’re an injured puppy, concern filling his eyes.

“Yeah, I agree. Let’s have her sit in the car for a bit. It’s not helping that we’re also standing in the rain like idiots.” Nick quips, guiding you to the back seat of their car.

You laugh nervously again, taking a seat. They crowd around you, looking at you like you might fall dead to the ground.

“Look, I really appreciate that you guys are being so helpful. But I’m not gonna lie, I’m freezing right now, my clothes are wet, and I just wanna get back to my hotel and go to sleep. Also, no offense, but I know you guys from your YouTube videos and this is a very awkward situation for me.” The words spill out in a rush, and you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“Oh! I’m such an idiot. Here, take my hoodie. I have an extra one in the back.” Chris says, seeming to completely ignore the fact that you admitted you knew who they were and reaches around you to grab his dry hoodie from the back seat. He hands it to you, and you hesitantly take it, your eyebrows raised in confusion at his nonchalant response. “So you can at least warm up a little.” He smiles, trying to make you feel more comfortable. You do nothing but grip onto the soft hoodie and look over at Matt and Nick who also seem to not care a thing about what you just said. Matt says, “I’ll go look at your car if you don’t mind and make sure its safe for you to drive and then once you warm up, you’ll be free to go!”

He makes his way towards your car and Nick climbs in on the other side of the back seat next to you. “Sorry again for everything. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t how you expected your night to go.” He says. You then find yourself genuinely laughing for the first time tonight and start to pull the hoodie on, grateful to feel something warm over your wet clothes. “Yeah, definitely not what I expected.” Chris climbs into the passenger seat, turning back to look at you. “This is where I normally sit.” He states with a cheeky grin and you giggle, feeling a slight blush creep onto your face. He really was just as attractive in person, if not more, you realize as your nerves slightly settle down. “But I guess you already knew that.” He adds, his grin turning into a smirk. “Yeah and it’s gonna stay that way, you idiot.” Nick interrupts, making you erupt into more giggles as Chris’ smirk turns into a glare. “Shut up.” He mumbles, turning back around in his seat as Matt walks back towards their car, opening the driver door and getting in. He has a serious look on his face now, turning to look at you in the back seat.

“So… there’s an issue. It looks like Chris’ dumbass rear ended you so hard that your rear tire is flat. And I really doubt any tow truck is going to come at this time of night. Even if it does, it will take a while. And I wouldn’t feel safe letting you go alone. It looks like the best option is to drop you off myself at your hotel and have them tow your car in the morning. We can push it to the side of the road so there’s no issues.” Matt says, your heart sinking and you lay your head in your hands in frustration before he even finishes his sentence. Nick frowns and sighs, putting another reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. We’ll pay for all of it, I swear.” He says. You look at him with a smile and turn to Matt, ready to just agree with him so you can be done with this night already before Chris interrupts you. “Why don’t we just take her to the house? It’s literally 5 minutes from here and we don’t know how serious her head injury is.” He suggests.

Chris knows this is a crazy suggestion. First of all, you’re a fan, and you just met not even 30 minutes ago. You could be a psycho killer for all he knows. But Chris likes to believe that he has a strong intuition, especially when it comes to people and he just knows you’re not the type. To be quite honest, he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you since he first saw you. Even with the rain completely drenching you and what looked like to be some sort of frozen dessert staining the front of your shirt and shorts, he thought you were beautiful. He already felt horrible for fucking up your car and causing you bodily harm. The least he could do was take you to his house and attend to your wounds. Only to make sure you didn’t drop dead on some random hotel carpet. Right?

Everyone looks at him like he has three heads. His brothers exchange concerning glances, awkward silence filling the car. Since when did he just invite random strangers into his house?

“Uhh.. Are you sure? I mean, how do you feel about that..?” Matt asks, looking at you with hesitation. You didn’t respond just yet, still adjusting to the fact Chris Sturniolo is voluntarily inviting you to their home.

“I don’t know…. I think I agree with Chris. I don’t wanna be responsible if you go back to your hotel alone and end up with a concussion or something. No offense.” Nick adds, shrugging his shoulders.

You scoff, extremely surprised at the fact that they’ve taken it this far. “No no no, look. You three have been really nice to me over this whole thing, but its just a little cut. I promise I’ll be fine. My hotel isn’t that far either. I don’t want to intrude and-“

Chris suddenly reaches out and lightly touches your forehead, blood still trickling out and starting to run down the side of your head. You wince in pain and recoil from his touch, your head starting to throb. “See? It’s not just a little cut, is it? You’re actively bleeding, and it obviously hurts. I know you’re just being modest, but I promise I just – we just- want to make sure you’re okay.” He says, his eyes trailing down your face, admiring it briefly, his fingertips ghosting over your jaw before he pulls his hand back. You remain frozen in your seat, butterflies swarming in your lower abdomen from the light touch he left on your face. “Unless you really do feel uncomfortable, then I understand. We can take you to the hotel. But like Nick said, we just don’t want anything bad to happen.” He added softly, turning back around, raking a hand through his hair. Nick and Matt exchange looks again, noticing the obvious tension.

You take in a deep breath and pull Chris’ hoodie tighter around you. “Fine. I guess I see your point. You can take me to your house but once I get this stupid cut on my head cleaned up, I’ll call my friend to come pick me up.” You finally say, buckling your seat belt. You can’t help but notice a small, smug smirk on Chris’ face through the passenger side mirror.

Once they pushed your car to the side of the road, Matt takes off with you in the backseat, your head leaned against the window.

I must be dreaming right? I’m definitely in my bed right now and this is not happening. You think to yourself, the intoxicating smell of Dior Sauvage cologne filling your nose, as you press the sleeve of Chris’ hoodie to the throbbing wound on your head.

[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 ? }

[scarletwinterxx]

got me confused, got me satisfied - jaehyun imagine

hellooooo. currently on my jaehyun brain rot era😶😶‍🌫️ this is the bit different from what i usually write... hope you like it😅

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

: a bit suggestive, fluff, whipped jaehyun

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What do you give a man who has everything?"

"For Jaehyun? Damn girl, i don't know. What about a good dicking down" Joy says nonchanlantly like you're not having brunch at the moment.

"Sounds tempting" you mumble

"Your presence is a present enough, if he don't want that then I know a list of guys ready to take his place"

You chuckle at your friends words, "I like him though, I like his face, I like his hugs, I like that he likes me"

"You like all of him, it's not so bad too that his secret dream is to be a sugardaddy. Specifically yours"

"That doesn't make me a sugarbaby... does it?" you look over at her

"Girl, you are the definition of a sugarbaby, the lavish dates, the expensive gifts, out of town trips on his private yatch? what would you call that then?" Joy asks back

That got you quiet. Thinking about what you would call your relationship with Jaehyun.

You don't like being confused, it frustrates you. He frustrates you but there's no other man you would run to but him. No man can make you think like him. Here you are slowly losing your mind over finding a simple gift for him.

Smirking as an idea pop in your mind, "I think I got it" you mumble. Getting your bag to go the the mall and get what you need

"Where are you going?!" Joy shouts

"I'm going to make a man cry tonight, see you at the party" you shout back as you walk across the street, Joy just chuckles after you. Whatever it was you had planned, Jaehyun is definitely in for a surprise.

A few swipes of your card, and a couple of hours getting ready you finally make your way to the party. It was already packed by the time you got there, some faces you recognize but more you've never met before. Probably just here to have a good time.

You easily spot Joy amongst the crowd, happily belting out the song with a very drunk looking Jungwoo.

"You're hereeeee" she squeals when she spots you, pulling you by the arm and making you do a quick spin. Your little black dress and the cute matching black ribbon on your hair,

"You look hot babe! Is this Jaehyun's gift tonight?" she teases you, pulling playfully on the ribbon. She's not far off if you're being honest. Shrugging at her question teasingly, you excuse yourself to find the man of the hour.

He wasn't on the dance floor, in the main room or outside. You do find Yuta while you trying to find Jaehyun.

"Here for the birthday boy?" he asks, a beer in hand

"Yep, have you seen him?"

"He's been sulking all night, Joy and Jungwoo kept saying you weren't coming cause you were out on a date" he laughs

"They're evil, it's his birthday" you joke, laughing along with him.

"Go find your boyfriend before he finds you here, don't forget to use protection this house isn't baby proofed!" he shouts, earning a few glances but you pay no attention to them. Making your way back inside the house, you finally see the familiar tuff of dark hair, fair skin and those arms you loved having wrapped around you.

Confidently making your way over to him, he's still looking at the other side of the room where the door was. Like he was waiting for someone to walk through at any moment,

"Waiting for someone?" you ask, catching his attention

He turns his head so fast, you let out a giggle. At that moment Jaehyun didn't care if he looked like he cared too much. He didn't care if his friends were teasing him all night saying shit like you went out on a date and found someone better.

Who the fuck is better. He thought to himself earlier.

This arrangement he has with you is definitely a confusing one, but for you he'd ignore all the warning signs. Heck you could've been the biggest red flag and he'd still happily chase after you like a mad bull.

It's not like you're leading him on, he knows you like him. And he likes you. The two of you like the way you are right now, not exactly boyfriend and girlfriend but you do all the things that comes with being in a relationship. From the cute nicknames, to him driving you anywhere and everywhere, even having weekly movie nights in his room or yours (depends if all the guys are home). No man knows your body the way he does. And if he's completely honest, he would like to keep it that way.

In a way the two of you are lowkey, but nothing about the way you scream his name some nights says lowkey AT ALL.

You catch the way his face lights up, fighting the smile instead showing you a smirk. But you know him enough, he's happy you're here. You're happy you're here.

His eyes rakes over your body, head to toe. He tucks a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, "You look cute" he tells you, noting your wearing that damn ribbon he loves seeing on you. It makes you look innocent but he knows you well enough.

"Happy birthday" you tell him, throwing your arms around his neck to intertwine them. Dragging your nose along his jaw, kissing the shell of his ear knowing exactly what it'll do to him.

You smile when you pull back and see his ears turning red. A rather unimpressed look on his face, you want nothing but to kiss him but you hold back. For now.

"Thought you weren't going to make it" He tries to act nonchalant but his body was on autopilot. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you so close leaving no space between your bodies. If it was up to him, there's still too many places he's not close enough.

For example he wanted to just bury his face on your neck and mark you up for the world to see, let them wonder just who did that to you. He wanted to have your legs wrapped around him, like vice grips every time he pleases you.

"And you look like you're thinking about something else" you tease him, "I got you something" you add

"Told you, you didn't have to get me anything" he mumbles but you just shake your head at him

"Shhh, just this once let me buy you something. Tomorrow you can go back to living your dream of being my sugardaddy"

"Call me that again, I'm carrying you out of this kitchen and go upstairs" he tells you, leaning closer to you until your lips were centimeters away.

"Okay, daddy" you smirk, feeling his arms tighten around you before he lets you go. Confusion written across your face before you see him crouching down, feeling his hands behind your knees he throws you over his shoulder as gently as he could. One hand on your legs holding you while the other hand rest right were your dress stops.

"Hey! You guys! Come back here, we're doing shots" you hear Jungwoo scream but Jaehyun paid him no mind. It's like he's a man on a mission. Mission to ruin you.

He walks down the familiar hallway until he reaches the last door, punching in the code before walking inside. He doesn't let you down, again gently throwing you on his bed.

You laugh, like literally laugh out loud. Jaehyun watches you carefully, waiting for you to say something. He knows you know exactly how to rile him up.

"Now that I got you here, time for your present" you tell him, standing up to get a small paper bag on his table. You probably put it there before finding him downstairs earlier.

"Was this your masterplan?" he asks you

"Kinda, I have a few more lines to use but either way they will all end up with us locked here in your room" you giggle, how can you sound so angelic yet so devilish he will never understand.

"Here, even if you don't like it just pretend you do. For me" you tell him jokingly, taking the bag from you he opens it up to see a box. Inside it was a simple chain necklace. Anything from you is a prized possession to him.

That mug you made him on your second date? his favorite to have his coffee in the morning.

That tshirt you bought him because it had peaches all over it? his favorite shirt to wear at home.

That candle you bought for him to use in his room? still sitting on his bedside table, lighting it whenever you're over or when he misses you.

"Your style right?"

"You saw me looking at this when we went to the mall, was that why you told me not to buy it?" he asks, taking it out of the box to put it on. You watch happily as he finishes putting it on.

And god damn you were right, he looked good wearing it.

If taking gifts makes you this happy maybe, just maybe, he'll let you shop for him more. But in this relationship, he likes spending more on you. From dinners to quick coffee runs to shopping sprees, he's always the one to swipe his black card. He's so damn hot while doing it, you thought.

"Just imagined that hanging over my face, I had to buy it" He chuckles at your reasoning. You saying that so casually as if it was a very normal scenario.

"Is this a gift for me or for you?" he raises a brow at you, he does love the gift. He loves it even more now knowing why you bought it. He already know how this night will end up, making mental note to make that imagination of yours into reality.

"Well that's first part of your gift, close your eyes"

You wait for him to do so, guiding him to sit on his bed. He hears some rustling, tempted to take a peak but he knows you'll scold him.

After a few moment he feels your hands holding his arms, guiding him to stand again. "Keep them closed until I tell you to open okay, I'm serious Jae"

He chuckles when he hears the nickname, it always sounds so cute when it comes from you.

"Okay now open" you tell him.

And when he did, his jaw nearly dropped on the floor. Cute is not the word to describe you right now. Divine, heavenly maybe because he's about to take all his time to worship you.

He should've known there was a reason you wore that damn ribbon. He loved seeing you with it, he knows you know he loves it.

And now here you are, on his bed with nothing but that black silk ribbon in your hair. He will never look at it the same again, he might just end up with a boner everytime he sees you with it.

"You don't like your gift?" tilting your head to the side, hooking your foot around his leg to pull him closer.

"Goddamit, woman. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he breathes out, leaning down so he's face to face with you. Your arms automatically going around him, he can feel you warmth against him.

Is it because he's still all dressed up that why the room just got hotter or because the girl of his dream and reality is lying naked underneath him?

The latter. Definitely the latter.

"Satisfied with your second gift?" you ask him, leaving a trail of kisses from him jaw down his neck then back up until your noses were touching.

"If you wanted this damn necklace hanging over you that much, all you had to do was ask" he teases you, you can feel his hand on your body. It feels like he's leaving a trail of fire with the way your body is burning.

"This is a bad idea, now every time I see you with that necklace I'm afraid I'm going to jump you" he chuckles, finally leaning further down to capture your lips with his. Getting lost in each others kisses, at first you tried to fight for some control but Jaehyun is never one to back down. Not when it comes to you.

That got you giving up, like you always do, letting him explore all there is to explore. It wasn't new to you or him, but his kisses still felt like a man chasing after air.

When the two of you broke apart, you can see already how swollen his lips are. And the two of you haven't even started yet.

"You know what's a worse idea? that ribbon. Now everytime I see you wearing that, this is exactly where you'll end up"

You chuckle, pulling him down for another heated kiss, "Then plan succeeded"

[ladykailitha]

Hellfire Exotic Club Part 4

Yay! This story is really moving along and were getting to all sorts of plots coming up for you.

With any luck I'll finish Secret Tunnel (aka the Game Show AU) and then just so it goes up and you can read it before the end of the time, I'll be doing a one time posting on Tuesdays.

"A Love Connection" coming to your screens this Tuesday!

It looks like it will be about 7 chapters and lot of fun. So stay tuned for that.

In this we Steve making waves and Jeff having a heart to heart with his best friend.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

~

It was Saturday night and Chrissy and Steve were debuting their fallen angels. Eventually they were going to get color change outfits made up so that they were white when dry and red when wet. So that by the end of their dance, they’ll be devils.

Eddie was so thrilled by the idea that he ordered a couple of different outfits for them so they didn’t always have to wear the same outfit every week.

What they wore as Samael and Eve weren’t anything like their Sins, Satan and Lilith. Steve was having his own outfit made, so for now he was merely wearing the very held on together with too many pins outfit of the former Envy. Bill was much broader than Steve and his out was meant to be tight.

When he first tied them on he looked ridiculous. Steve refused to wear the cowboy hat that went with it because one, it was hideous; two, he had no way of knowing anything about Billy’s hair care or lack thereof to be considered safe; and three, because Steve was a vain ass bitch and refused to cover his hair for anyone.

So until their costumes came, Steve and Chrissy were just wearing skimpy white outfits that they removed during their dance.

It featured Samael and Eve being tempted by Lucifer into falling. It was sexy as hell and Eddie didn’t mind getting to dance with them both.

After all, Eddie was bisexual and both Chrissy and Steve were amazing dancers. Steve wore wings that by the end of their dance, Eddie had ripped off. Eve and her apple. Turning into the gluttonous Lilith, having tasted temptation and wanting to devour it all.

Then it was Eddie’s turn with the hour in the spotlight and he began with his guitar. He played like a rockstar and as he played and screamed his heart out, the clothes came off until there was nothing between him and his sweetheart.

Then he would set the guitar aside dance in just his boots, bumping and grinding for the crowd and all their hard earned money, now his.

Everyone was thrilled with how well the angels dance went down. Well, almost.

Eddie was putting the club’s take of the money into the strong box that would then be locked in his safe in the floor when he got a knock on his office door.

He looked up from his count. “Stella! Come on in. Have a seat. What can I do you for?”

She moved with all the deadly grace of cobra.

“That was a pretty impressive dance tonight,” she hummed non-committedly. “You and Chrissy and the new guy.”

Eddie was a smart man. He gotten to where he was based on that and his good instincts. And both were screaming Stella was in fact not impressed.

“It feels good to shake things up a bit,” he hedged. He wasn’t sure what her complaint was. That Steve and Chrissy got ‘extra time’? That Eddie was playing favorites? That they were a trio instead of duo or single like they usually were?

“We aren’t called Heaven and Hellfire Club, Eddie,” Stella huffed. “There’s shaking things up and then there’s throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

Ah. The Heaven theme. “A lot of the demons in hell were fallen angels. Lucifer, Samael, Abbadon, Rosier and several others. We’re just tapping into the more Judaic and Islamic mythos instead of relying on the Christian one.”

She pursed her lips and Eddie could feel a storm brewing.

“We’ll see how it goes,” Eddie continued, cutting her off before she could build up steam. “If people don’t like it, we’ll stop. But at least for tonight, we pulled in good money for that dance.”

Stella nodded primly. “You’re right, Eddie. We’ll see.”

Like that wasn’t ominous as fuck.

~

Steve didn’t feel as nervous tonight as he had last week. He had had more time with the dance and he felt more confident in his skin. He knew by now that not everyone stripped, but he wanted to try a little tease tonight to see how that went over.

He leaned over the stool in the middle of the stage and waited for the lights to come on. This was his favorite moment even when he was back doing ballet. He loved the beat between the spotlight being off and then on.

That moment of hushed silence as the crowd takes in a collective breath in anticipation. Waiting.

Waiting.

Bam!

The lights came on and Steve snapped up his head. He pulled his body over the stool and straddled it. He ran his fingers over his body and looked back into the crowd with a pout.

Half way through his hour of dancing, he looked over his shoulder at the crowd and slowly unzipped his corset and then pushed it down his body, as money flew through the air.

Yep. That would certainly do the trick. He turned around and dipped down low, spreading his legs. He bounced right back up. He spun and then did the splits, slowly sinking to the floor. He brought his legs back together and arched his back, leaning on his hands. He laid completely flat and undulated his body. He sat back up and tucked his legs under him.

He crawled toward the front of the stage where there were men and women alike waving fists of cash at him. He let them tuck the bills wherever it would fit and then stood back up.

He finished his dance back on the stool and turned away from the audience. He looked over his shoulder again and winked.

~

Eddie was going to go feral. This was it, the end of his sanity. It had slowly been ebbing away for years but this?

This destroyed the last tether he had to reason. He didn’t drink on the clock. Because he knew the second he got drunk some catastrophe would happen that he would need to be sober for and he’d fuck the whole thing up.

But god, did Steve’s little wink at the end make him want to start with one end of the bar and go all the way down, drinking everything he could get his hands on.

How his hands managed not to shake when he handed Steve his cut of the night’s earnings, he’ll never know. But he even got in a sincere smile while he was at it.

He quietly put the money in the lockbox to be combined with Saturday’s take and taken to the bank first thing in the morning. He locked up his office and went out front to wait for the cleaners. When he got out to the bar, he saw Jeff waiting for him.

That brought him up short. If he was expecting anyone to stay for a chat it would have been Chrissy or Gareth. Jeff pulled out a bottle whiskey and poured them each a glass before sitting down. He patted the stool next to him.

“Come on,” he murmured gently. “I’m not gonna bite you.”

Eddie scoffed and did as he was told. This was bound to be a better conversation then the ones he had with Stella and Steve. At least this time there was booze involved. He picked up the glass and swirled the liquid around before taking a long drink.

“You did good bringing him in,” Jeff started. “More people are coming in then they were before and tips for everyone have gone up.”

Eddie looked over at his best friend and then cocked his head to the side with a half shrug. “I was about ready to go drown my sorrows and give up finding anyone who could replace Billy. Because, yeah for all we brandy about him being stereotypical, he got warm bodies into the club every Sunday night.”

“He certainly could out Magic Mike even the best of strippers,” Jeff agreed. “Too bad his personality was shit and he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants off the stage.”

Eddie drained the rest of his glass and poured himself another. He turned in the stool to face Jeff. “See that’s the part I don’t understand. Why would he sleep around with married women? Especially high profile married women? Because that was just asking for trouble.”

“Because it’s not about sex,” Jeff said with a shrug. “It’s about power. He could have sex with any woman he wanted so he went for the ones in power so that he could control them. Dude was a class A asshole.”

“That’s true,” Eddie scoffed. “But no, I’m glad Steve is settling in. Since Scott’s been helping him learn the moves, he’s been picking them up faster and even adding his own moves.”

“When you got him in to see Ellie?” he asked downing his drink. “Because if he was in a costume that actually fucking fit, he’d be bringing in even bigger numbers.”

Eddie winced. He loved Ellie. She did all the costumes for the club and was always happy to make him new ones. Hell, she was super excited to do the costumes for the fairy tale night. But he was having a hard time getting Steve and her together in the same room because of how wildly different their schedules were. He really wasn’t thinking about that when he gave Steve his schedule.

“I’m working on it,” he muttered darkly. “She’s already slammed with some of the extra work we sent her. I don’t know what Steve does on his days off, but he’s been super busy so it’s hard to get the two of them in the same room.”

“Just have her show up to one of the shows,” Jeff said, “and have her take the measurements between him shaking his assets.”

Eddie snorted. “She likes making our costumes but she passes on the actual show.”

“She’d be in the back in the dressing rooms,” Jeff huffed. “Because he needs to get costumes that fit his style. Hell, he needs to dance his style. The envy dance was great for pole, but Steve barely touches the damn thing. Which considering his past experience is a little weird, but that’s not here or there. He needs to be able to branch out.”

“Would you tell that to Stella, please?” Eddie growled. “She’s already been on my ass about the angel thing. She’s trying to clip his wings before he even gets them.”

Jeff poured them both another glass. Eddie raised an eyebrow. He didn’t usually have more than two. “Don’t worry, I’ve got Uber on standby, but I think we both need this right now. But to answer your question, some people just don’t like change. Especially since she is one of the last vestiges of the KitCat Kitty Club. Her and a couple of the backup dancers. When they saw Billy get fired, suddenly they got very afraid for their jobs.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, playing with his glass and really not drinking it. Around them the cleaners were getting to work. They were used to Eddie having a drink with one of his friends and just did that section last.

“You just have show them you understand where they’re coming from,” Jeff said, “without letting them push you over. You’re boss after all.”

Eddie glared at him. “And how do you suppose I do that, pray tell?”

“I don’t know,” Jeff said waving his hand. “Fly casually.” He snorted when Eddie hit his arm. “Look, man I don’t know. I’m just a dancer. I shake my ass and I get paid for it. You’re the real brains of this place. You took it to new heights when it should have failed. You brought in some of the best dancers this town has ever seen by the sheer grace of just being friends with them. I don’t know why you’re asking me for advice.”

Eddie buried his head in hands. He sat like that for a moment and then drank all the whiskey in his glass in one gulp. He put his head on the bar and thunked it a couple of times. He was good at this. He could do this.

“I can handle this,” he said waving his hands at the bar. “What I can’t handle is how hot Steve is. Like what the hell?”

Jeff threw his head back and laughed. “Can’t help you with that one, man. I’m straight.”

“God, I wish I was straight or gay instead of the bisexual disaster that I am.”

Jeff put his arm around his shoulders. “People still think you and Chrissy are still an item?”

He nodded morosely and then laid his head on his arms on the bar. He turned his head to look at Jeff. “I can’t beat the allegations even with my personal no dating staff rule.”

“Maybe they just want you to be happy,” he said, finishing his drink and setting the glass behind the bar for the crew to clean up.

“It’s just she’s not out as a lesbian,” Eddie whispered, “and I worry she’s going to be pushed into revealing something she’s not ready to yet.”

“So take a night off once and awhile and date, man,” Jeff huffed. “You give everyone at least one night off, two if you can swing it. But when was the last time you stepped into a club that you didn’t own?”

Eddie scoffed. “Probably never.”

“You have me and Chrissy to help you run this place,” Jeff reminded him. “Take a day off, rest. Hell, go visit your uncle. I bet that bastard misses your scaly ass.”

Eddie shook his head and finished his third glass. “I should. I call him all the time, but it would be good to see him too.”

“I think you’ve had your head so wrapped around this club,” Jeff said, “that you forgot to be someone other than ‘boss’.”

Eddie let out a slow shuddering breath as he pushed away from the bar. “Thanks, Jeffy. I owe you.”

Jeff laughed. “You don’t owe me shit. I love my job and I know there would be no other place in or out of this fucking state that would take a black man as a headlining stripper, let alone one looking like me.”

“Which is a damn shame,” Eddie replied. “Let’s find that Uber of yours and go home.”

Jeff laughed. “You’ve become such a fucking lightweight.”

Eddie pushed him and then wrestled and tussled as they exited the bar.

In the back of the bar one of the cleaners watched them go with a furrowed brow.

~

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

And don't worry, I haven't forgotten our little cleaner, they'll make an appearance later. ;)

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