#fic: liquid gold

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Two Hands To Hold ║ ⓛⓘⓜⓘⓣⓔⓓ ⓢⓔⓡⓘⓔⓢ

║TWO HANDS TO HOLD: a Liquid Gold prequel || main masterlist ║

| PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!reader x Tommy Miller

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 9.2k | CONTENT: backstory for LIQUID GOLD aka how reader ended up with both Miller brothers, lots of plot sandwiched between smut, inexperienced virgin learns stuff, established relationship vibes, Joel is a slut, Tommy is a softboi slut menace, infidelity, degradation, praise kink like whoa, exhibitionism, lots of cum, cum is everywhere, for the love of god why is there so much cum in this fic

| SYNOPSIS: When wanting something means risking everything, how much are you willing to take the hands of two brothers and let them lead the way?

The mixture of what was supposed to be dinner had probably scalded to the bottom of the pot by this point. You might’ve cared more if you were further into your recipe, but you hadn’t added any of the scarcer ingredients yet so it wasn’t too wasteful.

You should’ve known that running upstairs for a quick second to grab a sweater wasn’t going to be quick at all since Joel was home. He’s fresh out of the shower with a towel slung low around his waist. You warn him you have to get back downstairs before dinner burns, but you both know there’s no conviction in your tone. You don’t really care too much about dinner when Joel’s mouth is on your neck and his hands are groping at your backside.

“I can do quick,” he murmurs. “Problem is you never like it when Daddy doesn’t take his time with that needy little pussy of yours.”

You groan and arch into him, incapable of producing any argument to his charge. You could never get enough of him, and he liked it that way. Your appetite for pleasure was equally matched by his, and you found yourself more often than not stuffed to the brim with his fingers or his cock. He makes quick work of your clothes, ignoring your weak grumbling that this was only going to make you even colder than when you first came upstairs to get a sweater.

You forget all about the chill when he’s got you on all fours and is burying himself into you. You shiver when a rush of cool air gusts through the window you hadn’t realized was open.

“Joel!” you hiss. “The fucking window is open!”

“Mmmm, suddenly afraid somebody’s gonna hear you screamin’ for this cock?” he taunts. “Like they ain’t heard it a million times before with how loud you get?”

Your walls flutter around him at the idea of being heard or seen by someone when he’s fucking you so hard it punches the air from your lungs when he bottoms out. Joel of course notices.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Like the thought of somebody seein’ you be such a good hole for me?” he grunts, pulling your back flush against his chest. He drives himself even harder into you as you cry out.

“Ohmygod,” you rasp as his tip slams into the deepest parts of you.

“Bet you’d let me pull anybody from the street just to have ‘em watch you take this cock,” he grunts.

Your body gives your feelings away yet again when a crackled, needy moan slithers up your throat.

“Yeah, bet you’d want ‘em to do more than watch, huh?” he pants. “Bet you’d want to take their cock too after I’m done usin’ you up.” 

“Fuck!” you whine, getting closer to coming just thinking about somebody else taking from your body after Joel has finished splitting you on his cock.

Joel laughs, dark and low. “Learnin’ somethin’ about you, honey. Didn’t know you were that type’a girl. Wantin’ all of Daddy’s friends to use your holes, huh?”

Your climax grips at the base of your spine and explodes into your lower belly. You let out a wail of pleasure as Joel thrusts harder, fucking you through your high while he chases his own. He empties into you with three forceful drives and slumps on top of you where you’d crumpled into the bed below.

You barely manage a sigh as he pulls out. You stay like that while you hear him head downstairs, probably to turn off the burned dinner before it starts a house fire. Your head gets fuzzier and your lids get heavier as you listen to him walk back upstairs and get dressed.

A gentle press of lips against your temple rouses you. It’s much darker outside than it had been just a moment ago. The open window has been closed, and the inky sky outside looks like a framed postcard.

“I know it’s always a good one when you pass out right after,” he chuckles, peppering soft kisses to your temple and scalp.

“Dammit, didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you grumble in a slur. You push yourself up from the bed and roll over. Your brow pulls when your hand grazes past the fabric of panties. “When did—”

“Slid ‘em on you so you keep me inside,” he grins. “Now get dressed so we can get goin’. Gonna see to somethin’ tonight.”

“We’re going somewhere?” you mumble, still trying to orient yourself from the haze of sleep.

Joel nods and gestures to the pile of clothes he divested you of earlier. “Go on now, and don’t let any of my cum outta ya.”

You grin back at him and scoot to the edge of the bed. “I take it dinner burned?”

He laughs and confirms it was “probably easier to just toss the whole pot at this point” than try to scrub the burnt bits off.

You lean in for a kiss before dressing yourself. He watches you as he has the tendency to do. You straighten your shirt and hair before announcing that you were ready to head out. You bite back a smile at the feeling of your weeping cunt spilling out what Joel had filled you with earlier with each step you take towards Main Street. When he gives you a knowing nudge and smirk, you knock your hip against him playfully.

“You know I like how it feels,” you huff with empty indignation.

Joel breaks into a real smile at your raw honesty. “And you know I like you walkin’ around with me drippin’ outta you.”

It hadn’t always been this way. You hadn’t always felt more comfortable with exploring or even acknowledging your wants and needs. Your entire life had mostly been listening to and following others so you wouldn’t die. You remember bits and pieces from Outbreak Day in complete clarity, but you mostly remember how you felt: scared, abandoned, and burdensome. And that was before everything concerning the infection had even happened.

It was your birthday. You sat on the front porch for hours even though deep down you knew she wasn’t going to show. When your grandmother finally made you come inside so the neighbors wouldn’t see and start getting nosy, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to cry.

It was another year that your mom had missed your birthday – or any day that remotely mattered to you or celebrated you in any way. You’d known it wasn’t going to happen. It’s probably why your stomach had felt funny and clenched hard with nerves to the point that you’d thrown up a few times first thing that morning.

Your grandmother wasn’t too happy about it. She’d had to call out of work and was clearly frustrated and stressed about missing her shift. It always seemed like anything to do with you was always upsetting to your grandparents. Years later you understood a bit better why becoming the sole guardians to their teenage daughter’s baby at the age of 39 wasn’t exactly the future they’d hoped or planned for. 

Your mom’s “troubled years” as they’d put it had turned out to be more extensive and consequential than they realized at the time. At a certain point, there’s no going back and fixing it. Giving birth to a baby girl at 17 and then disappearing altogether before she’d turned 18, your mom didn’t want to take on the responsibility of you. No one really seemed to want the responsibility of you.

So, you tried your best to listen. You tried your best to follow the rules. You had your mother’s reputation and history hanging over your head like a black cloud, and your grandparents were constantly reminding you of all the things you shouldn’t be - all the things your mom was. Irresponsible, promiscuous, attention-seeking, shameful, demanding, difficult….. 

Your grandmother in particular seemed to believe that if they had attended church more regularly as a family, maybe your mom would’ve turned out “a better girl.” Your grandfather only went on holidays to make your grandmother happy, but he never disagreed that your mom could’ve used something to make her more obedient with better morals and fewer sinful indulgences.

You went to church a lot with your grandmother - any Sunday morning she wasn’t working - and you wondered if you would ever satisfy the debt of being the corporeal amalgamation of all your mother’s faults. A daily reminder of failed virtues and someone who had lost their way. You could do all the good in the world, but you would still be the product of failure and immorality.

And yet, every child wishes for their parents to notice them, to care about them. No one knew your father’s identity - including your mother - but he had to exist out there, somewhere. Sometimes you let yourself imagine that he never even knew there was a potential child of his out there in the world  and maybe that’s why he’d never reached out or tried to be a part of your life. 

Your mother was sick a lot, at least that’s what your grandparents told you. “She’s not well right now enough to see you” was something you’d heard many times. Whenever you asked what kind of sick she was, they didn’t ever have a clear answer. You’d thought that maybe if you knew what kind of sick she was, you could all figure out a medicine for her or do something to help her get better. When you’d suggested as much to your grandfather, he gave you a hard frown and sad eyes.

“Listen, why don’t you go watch something on the TV, huh?” your grandmother suggested when you obeyed her instruction to leave the porch and come inside.

“Can’t I sit at the window?” you politely asked. “I’ll keep behind the curtains so the neighbors don’t see.”

She gave you one of those sad, resigned looks you recognized more often the older you got. Now on your 7th birthday, you’d gotten pretty good at spotting them even if you didn’t always know why they looked at you that way.

“She’s not coming, doll baby,” your grandmother sighed. “I’m sorry. I know she said on the phone last week she was gonna come stay for a few days, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

You pressed your lips together tight and nodded. No use in making a big deal out of it and stressing your grandmother out more than she was for having to miss work on account of you having tummy troubles. You watched the TV for a while – more like stared unfocused at it as it flashed scenes in front of you – and couldn’t help but hope every time the phone rang that it was your mom calling to apologize for running late and explain that she was still coming.

The phone was ringing more and more as the day went on, and your grandmother seemed more unsettled after each conversation. Lunchtime came and went, but you settled for an apple from the counter so you didn’t bother your grandmother for a proper lunch. At some point she shooed you away to your room to play so she could watch something “not for kids” on the TV. The deep voice from the TV seemed to become more frenzied as the day went on, too. 

Your grandfather came home early, but it hadn’t anything to do with celebrating your birthday. You were instructed by them to eat dinner from whatever you wanted in the pantry, and it wasn’t too bad of a birthday present. You hadn’t received one yet today, so you felt safe to assume a free pass at whatever you wanted from the junk food was your present. You’d wished your stomach wasn’t so tight with worry so you could actually eat something.  They sent you to bed early, too distracted with whatever was happening to realize you hadn’t eaten.

You woke up hungry and quietly got up from bed to check the clock in the kitchen to see if it was still your birthday and maybe try to sneak an apple. Your grandparents were in the living room in front of the static screened TV, sharing hushed whispers as you tried to make out their conversation from the hallway. You couldn’t take it anymore and made your presence known. You might get in trouble for interrupting them, but you had to know if something bad had happened to your mom and if that’s why they seemed so upset.

They exchanged a heavy look. You can still see it in your mind’s eye to this day. Even as a child you knew it was something devastating even though you couldn’t yet understand it was the moment they both stopped to realize they didn’t know where their daughter was, if she was safe, and, at the rate horrible things were transpiring with the mystery infection, they probably weren’t ever going to see her again.

All three of you slept in the basement for a few days, starting the night of your birthday. You kept quiet and didn’t even complain about the only food down there being nut packs and expired dinner crackers. You were too afraid to ask why you couldn’t leave the basement. You were too afraid to ask if your mom was okay. You were too afraid to ask if your grandparents were upset with you and why.

When the uniformed men came and swept the house for inhabitants, you didn’t ask questions. You didn’t say you needed to use the bathroom. You didn’t argue when they instructed you to sit on the floor of the large black vehicle.

Over the years in the QZ, you never dropped your habit of keeping out of the way and doing what you were supposed to do. Over the years in the QZ, your grandparents never dropped their habit of drilling it into your head that you were to follow the rules and not “attract any unwanted attention” to yourself.

When the son of a high-up QZ FEDRA officer took a liking to you, it sent you into a panic. It scared you to like him back. He was sort of nice and smiled at you sometimes. You felt shame gnawing at you when you dreamed about him being your first kiss. You woke up horrified that even if your conscious mind knew better than to entertain indecent thoughts about boys, your unconscious mind was determined to make you a morally bankrupt person, just like your mother. You didn’t know what to do other than to avoid him at all costs.

He caught on that you were giving him the cold shoulder, and suddenly the smiles and friendliness turned into scowls and rude comments under his breath about you being a “stuck up bitch.” You wanted to tell your grandparents, but that would mean admitting to having bad thoughts about a boy. They didn’t need that stress.

When your grandfather got reassigned to a heavy labor, lower paying job by direct order from FEDRA higher ups, he was at a complete loss as to what he’d done or who he’d pissed off. You kept your shameful secret to yourself - that you and your uncontrollable want had been the reason for his punishment. You watched your grandfather get weaker and age more rapidly, thanks to his demanding work.

He’d finally had enough, and that’s when you all fled in the QZ under the cover of darkness. Yet again something bad that was a direct result of your innate impurity. You kept your shameful secret and kept quiet. You were warned endlessly by them both to not wear anything fitted, to keep your hat on, and to not speak.

“If anyone knew we had a teenage girl with us, we’d be the target for some bad things,” they’d explained plainly. Your femininity, your body, the pleasure others could derive from your body. All a liability.

You bounced around from place to place. Your grandfather’s health got worse. He passed that first winter. Your grandmother was never the same once he died. You still think it was a broken heart that ultimately killed her.

A single thread of your want had stitched this tapestry of misery and death. When you were accosted by Jackson’s patrol as you were trying to form a makeshift camp in the powerplant building next to the dam, you sort of wished the dogs would just tear you to pieces right then and there.

Instead, your work ethic and cooperative attitude landed you with a permanent residency in the Jackson settlement. You never turned down requests for hard labor or jobs other people didn’t want. You always said yes. You never made requests or developed preferences. Everyone praised your agreeable, undemanding personality. You were too afraid to want, so you didn’t. That is, until Joel Miller showed up. 

He commanded your attention from the moment you laid eyes on him. It scared you how much you yearned to know him. How much hearing his voice settled something knotted in the depths of your chest. How much you worried about him when he left for patrol after you memorized his schedule. How much seeing him easy around his also incredibly handsome brother Tommy made your heart drip like acid into your stomach.

You watched him endlessly from the kitchen in the cafeteria where you’d ended up working most regularly. You had a knack for cooking, it turns out, and the early and odd hours never bothered you. You knew what foods he liked best after noticing what he ate most of. You began to pick up on all his little physical quirks.

It was a one-sided obsession, something that could never be indulged. It was bad enough wanting something. You knew that wanting something meant risking everything. It wasn’t safe to want. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself; however, going after that want was a line you weren’t going to cross.

Fortunately for you, Joel didn’t have the same sort of hang-ups you did. Your hand shook as you scooped all his preferred foods onto his plate without direction. 

“You gonna ask me if that’s what I want?” 

It was the first thing he’d ever said directly to you. Your eyes went wide when you realized you’d been in such a rush to give him all his favorites so he could sit down to a nice meal that you hadn’t even stopped to ask him what he wanted. You already knew what he wanted, but now you’d outed yourself to him.

“I-I can get you something–something different. I’m sorry,” you offered, completely flustered.

He shook his head and gave a lopsided grin. You felt like you could throw up at any moment. “Never said it wasn’t what I wanted. I was just wonderin’ if you were gonna ask me or if I was just s’posed to take what ya gave me,” he drawled in a lazy, amused voice.

Your face was on fire as you stood frozen to the spot. When you didn’t answer, he chuckled low to himself and shook his head.

“M’just teasin’ you, honey,” he exhaled in a laugh.

You felt ready to combust at his easy talk and effortless magnetism. You couldn’t make your tongue move to speak.

“Unless of course you don’t want me to be teasin’. Maybe you wanna trade places and instead of askin’ you what ya want you can just see what I’ve got to give ya,” he murmured, leaning closer to speak lower.

You dropped the serving spoon straight into the food, turned on your heel, and scurried like a frightened animal back into the kitchens. You tried to catch your breath as you leaned against the wall, but the throbbing between your legs was overwhelming.

One of the other workers came back to check on you, and you managed to explain you needed to go. You’d completely embarrassed yourself in front of Joel, and you needed to get back to the privacy of your boarding house room to wallow in your humiliation.

You’d made it not even a third of the way home when he called after you. Once again, you froze in place. His voice, his commands, whipped you into some sort of dazed stillness. He approached with his hands up in a gesture of good faith.

“Hey now, m’sorry if I misread the signals back there,” he offered up quickly. “I couldn’t take much more of you starin’ at me every meal and thought you were waitin’ for me to make the first move, is all.”

Your jaw felt slack, a contrast to your rigid frame. He took a few steps closer to you when you didn’t appear to consider bolting away from him again.

“If I came on too strong or misread somethin’, I apologize, okay? M’not tryna make you uncomfortable, so m’sorry if I did.”

You shook your head again, trying to rattle some combination of words together instead of standing there like an idiot. When he started up with more apologies even though he’d done nothing wrong, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“You didn’t eat,” you blurted out.

His head inched back in surprise at the unexpected reply. He laughed a bit in confusion and ran a hand through his hair like he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to respond to that. The throbbing in between your legs was making a strong return.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’ve put up with worse than a missed meal,” he finally responded. “Look, lemme walk ya home and smooth this whole thing over, yeah?”

You nodded and took the first few clumsy steps of what would end up being the most life-altering walk you’d ever taken. When you made it to your doorstep, you’d promised him you would ask next time. Your heart stuttered when he countered that he was “just fine takin’ what you’re willin’ to give him.” A silly, loose grin crept across the line of your mouth.

The next few weeks you started requesting menu changes so that Joel’s favorites were always served on days he had patrol. It felt like something you could give him, something he would want. When he asked you to take your break and dine with him, you said yes. It was something you could give him, something he wanted. When he started walking you home from work on a regular basis, he asked all sorts of questions about your life, and the truth of it all came too easy from your lips. It was something you could give him, something he wanted.

He never made a negative comment, shared a judgemental observation, or seemed to care about any bad parts of you. He eventually started sharing parts of his life, too, and for once you felt like maybe everyone made mistakes and it wasn’t just you who was a singular point of disappointment and wrongdoing. When he started to hold your hand on the walks home, you held his back all the more tightly. It wasn’t even something you had to consider.

It didn’t take you long to realize that if Joel wanted something from you, he could have it.

But when he asked one night if you wanted him to kiss you, you froze up again. There it was. The trap of wanting. You wanted him. You wanted him to have all of you. You wanted to be everything and anything for him. You never allowed yourself to linger on what you wanted from him. He assumed you were nervous because you’d never been kissed. When he said he wanted you to be honest with him, you told him everything.

“Tell ya what,” he said softly. “I’m gonna kiss you, and you’re gonna tell me if it feels wrong to want it after I’m done.”

You agreed. And then his lips were on you, so gentle and warm, and you never wanted it to stop. It ignited something in you that scorched through your veins. Joel was your first everything. He taught you to say no. He made you use your words. He met each new desire of yours with feverish enthusiasm. He never dulled your light, only ever made it swell and burn hotter and brighter.

You came to understand that there was nothing wrong with wanting. There was nothing wrong with desiring. It didn’t matter what lewd or obscene fantasy you expressed to him, he always welcomed it and made it come alive. Being an object of his desire wasn’t a shameful thing. Wanting him to have his way with you didn’t make you any less virtuous. Expressing your needs and chasing them with abandon wasn’t harmful or wrong. Liking it when he got rough and grunted the dirtiest things into your ear didn’t make you undeserving of tenderness and care.

You hated to think of all the years you wasted on being ashamed for simply existing, for having the sort of cravings and urges that humankind has always had. To be loved. To be accepted for who you are. To get lost in someone else. To make your body feel good. To make your mind feel good.

It never felt wrong, not with Joel.

So when you make it to the Tipsy Bison with his cum dripping out of you and starting to dry between your thighs as it soaks through your panties, it feels right. Instead of a rush of shame coursing through you, you feel a flood of arousal and anticipation when he says he’s gonna see to it that you get to show him how much of a slut you want to be. Your breath hitches when he instructs you to go to the bathroom, lock the door, and wait for three knocks. 

“I’m gonna send somebody in there with you, and you’re gonna let him inside that locked bathroom with you so that you can suck him off, you understand?” he growls low in your ear.

You pull back, wide-eyed with nerves and excitement. Joel smirks and drags the side of your face next to his mouth so you can hear him. “Only ever had my cock, and you wanna get greedy for more. So you’re gonna shove somebody else’s cock into your mouth since you wanna get used so bad.”

“Fuck,” you whimper to yourself. You’d still be drenched from this exchange alone even without Joel’s spend leaking out of you.

“Go on. I wanna see if my girl is as greedy a slut as I think she is,” he hums into your ear before giving your earlobe a quick nibble.

You practically hobble to the bathroom, trying to focus on walking in a straight line. Hopefully the other patrons think you’re drunk instead of just keyed up from the thought of being used. You don’t know who will be knocking, but you don’t feel unsafe in the slightest. Joel would never put you in a bad position. He wouldn’t push you for something if you weren’t ready.

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you wait inside one of the three single use bathrooms. You try to think of who it’ll be that Joel sends. You go through all of the possibilities in your head and can’t seem to decide who Joel would trust alone with you.

Your nerves start to get the better of you when you realize you’re really doing this. The self-doubt creeps in. What if you only thought this was what you wanted but in reality can’t perform? What if he doesn’t enjoy it? You’ve only ever been with Joel, and you know different partners must have their own preferences.

A fleeting thought to leave the bathroom and tell Joel this was all just a big mistake crosses your mind. You don’t want to embarrass yourself, and, worse, you don’t want to embarrass Joel. Maybe it was best if you just put this off until some other time. Joel might be disappointed, but you’d prefer that over making him look foolish.

Just as you're wrestling with your nerves, three knocks sound on through the other side of the door. You hesitate for a moment but realize there’s no other way out but through the door. You have no choice either way to see who’s waiting on the other side.

You turn the lock and open the door, stepping back so that whoever your mystery man is can make his way in. You don’t register at first the owner of curly black hair and broad shoulders. Your heart plummets when you realize it’s Tommy.

“Oh. Oh my god. Um. I’m done in here, so you can… oh my god… okay…”

Your mind is firing off in a million different directions. What is Tommy going to think of his brother’s girl just letting anybody into the same locked bathroom as her? You scramble to make some excuse so he’s not suspicious, but you come up short. You’ve spent enough dinners at his house to know he can probably see straight through whatever lie you were about to shill.

“You gettin’ cold feet on me, sweetheart?” Tommy teases, flicking the lock closed before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the door.

“I–wait. What?” Your mouth drops open. Surely Joel didn’t… “You mean… but… what about…. He told you……” You were too bewildered with the situation to pick which question you wanted to ask first.

“You think my brother is gonna send just any loser in here with you?” he snorts. “C’mon now. He’s a dumb bastard every now and then, but he ain’t gonna send anybody he doesn’t trust 100% to be alone with ya.”

That aspect of it made complete sense to you, but you wouldn’t have ever considered Tommy because of–

“Maria? She’s-She’s here! I saw her earlier. You… Aren’t you…..?” you balk in a strained whisper.

“Yeah, she’s here. Her and a bunch of other people, too. So I guess that means you can’t be as loud as you like to be,” he needles with a cocky grin. “S’alright, I got somethin’ to keep your mouth occupied.” He flashes a devilish wink, and for a split second you forget all about your nerves.

“But-But what about… I’ve never…..”

You can hardly form a coherent thought. Joel sending Tommy made sense. You’d always found him attractive, and Joel knew that. He’d even teased you a few times about if you wanted to switch up which Miller brother you wanted to be with when he was being a pain in the ass. You didn’t think he’d ever act on it. Just like you never thought Tommy would step out of his marriage.

“But you love Maria,” you counter in a weak appeal.

“I do. So that means you must be somethin’ real special for me to have a wanderin’ eye. You ain’t comin’ home with me at the end of the night, but that don’t mean we can’t have somethin’ together in the meantime.”

You aren’t sure how you feel about doing something with a married man. It wasn’t you who made the vows, but it still felt wrong anyway. You try to weigh the heavy conundrum of whether or not this is something you’d be able to stomach after all is said and done.

“Hey now,” Tommy says softer, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for your hand. “Joel told me this was a surprise, but if it’s too much there ain’t no shame in walkin’ away. Nobody’ll be upset with ya, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His hand was smaller than Joel’s but felt warmer, softer somehow. A gentle cradle for your own. It felt nice. Different, but nice. Your eyes fix on the point where his thumb runs small circuits along yours, and it gives you somewhere to train your focus enough to get a thought out straight.

“It’s not that,” you deny in a shy voice.

“So what is it? ‘Cause this was somethin’ meant to be fun for everybody, okay? I’m not here to make you uncomfortable, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. He sounds so much like Joel.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” you assert. “I just-it’s me. It’s nothing to do with you. I’m just– I wasn’t thinking when I said that stuff about having somebody else. I-I don’t even know what I’m doing except for with Joel. I don’t even have any-any other experience.”

Your face is on fire again, and you wish you could just shut up instead of hitting Tommy with all of these embarrassing, trivial confessions.

“So, what? You got performance anxiety or somethin’?” he laughs under his breath. “Ain’t rocket science, sweetheart. A warm mouth on a pretty girl is as good a place as any for a guy to wet his dick.”

You shake your head and look away. “I’m just gonna mess it up.”

Tommy’s other hand cups the back of your neck to tilt your head until you’re looking at him again. His face is tender but serious.

“You take good care of my brother, sweet girl. He’s the happiest I’ve seen him in god knows how long. It means a lot to me knowin’ he’s got somebody like you lookin’ after him. If you can get somebody like my brother in as good a place as he’s in, you ain’t the sorta fuck up you think you are. Nothin’ short of a miracle worker as far as I’m concerned,” he presses. 

There’s not a hint of insincerity or exaggeration in his voice or face. The sentimentality catches you off guard. When your throat starts to feel hot and tight, an all new way to embarrass yourself emerges. You hastily sniff away your nerves and emotions and hope that Tommy doesn’t think less of you for it.

“Quit your cryin’ and c’mere,” he gently chides.

He hugs you against his body, wrapping both arms around you and cupping the back of your head with one of his hands as he captures your mouth in a soft kiss. He’s so gentle compared to Joel, so much more measured and rhythmic. Even early on in your physical relationship, there was always the electric undercurrent of something raw and hungry radiating from him. Tommy has a kinetic intimacy with every slip of his tongue and grip of his hand on your body.

You’re grabbing onto his collar desperately by the time he props you up on the sink and runs his mouth along the column of your neck, nipping and suckling in equal fervor and restraint. You swallow down the whines and whimpers he pulls all too easily from you.

“Make such pretty sounds,” Tommy rasps into your hair. “Gonna do this another time so I can hear ‘em loud as you wanna make ‘em.”

Your legs instinctively move together to soothe the building ache in your panties, but Tommy’s body keeps them parted.

“My sweet girl gettin’ hot ‘n bothered from a little neckin’?” he teases.

It’s pointless to lie since he clearly already knows how responsive you are to such little physical toying. You nod silently and chew your bottom lip.

“I like it, sweetheart. Like you a lot,” he professes in a calm consideration of you.

“I like you, too, Tommy,” you breathe. Your gaze travels down to the growing bulge in his crotch. You absentmindedly lick your lips.

���Got a nice mouth, too,” he muses. “Open up and lemme see it.”

Without hesitation, you slack your jaw and let your tongue drop. Your breath catches when Tommy runs his pointer and middle fingers together along it towards your throat. His eyes sear into the visual of feeding his fingers deeper into your mouth.

“See what we’re workin’ with here,” he says under his breath to himself. He inches along until his fingertips make your throat spasm. His eyes darken at the sound of it. He slowly draws them back out and breathes out a deep exhale.

“Sorry,” you apologize in a tiny voice. Heat pools in your lower belly. 

“Nothin’ we can’t work on,” he husks, the corner of his lip twitching up. 

His hands squeeze and rub downwards until he reaches your waistband, and you lift your hips when he starts tugging everything from your bottom half down. He yanks one side completely free from your leg, leaving your pants and panties hanging off the other thigh. He groans when he sees the thick, milky fluid dribbling from your hole.

“Been busy, I see,” he chuckles. He finally sets his focus to your face again after a gluttonous feast of your half naked form.

“I’m supposed to keep it inside,” you quietly explain.

Tommy nods and grins in approval. Something about him seeing the results of you and Joel’s earlier activities makes your pulse run thready.

“Looks like I got some catchin’ up to do,” he figures.

“But I’m supposed to—”

He lifts your shirt up, exposing your bare breasts and peaked nipples, and pays no mind to your call to get to what you’re meant to do inside the locked bathroom. Your body jerks when he rubs his thumbs across your nipples. You choke back and moan and focus on keeping quiet.

“You always so sensitive?” He chews his lip like he’s trying to keep from grinning too wide.

“N-No,” you lie. “I can be–sometimes I’m–” You shake your head, trying and failing to portray yourself as something other than an eager, all too easy to dismantle neophyte.

“Don’t hafta lie to me, sweetheart,” he’s quick to remind you. “I don’t want you to be what you think I want you to be. I want you to just be you. Understand?”

“Okay. Yes,” you concede. You know he’s not trying to call you out to embarrass you, but you still get an urge to hide away.

“M’serious. Joel doesn’t love you because you pretend to be somethin’ else for him. He loves you because you let him in and show him all of you.”

You draw in a shaky breath, nerves and want burning through you. Every time your thoughts start racing off in any given direction, Tommy pulls you back to the buzzing thrum of just being close to one another in the moment.

Joel tended to grab hold of you and wrap you up in a frenzy so fast that you didn’t have time to think too long on things that worried you. Tommy brought that clarity, too, except with a firm but tender guiding hand. Both left your mind quiet with nothing but the awareness of the space you shared with them.

“You gonna let me see it all, too?” he prods. He works your nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers, pinching and pulling when you don’t answer straight away.

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Good girl,” he praises. Your eyes flutter shut at his encouragement, awash in the warm feeling it blankets you in. He crowds you against the vanity mirror and continues working over you. 

“Touch yourself,” he grunts. You comply immediately and moan at the almost instant pull of your orgasm that’s been building the longer Tommy has hedged his way into your inner workings.

“Bet you can come just like this,” he wagers in a strained focus. “Keep playin’ with yourself ‘til you come, sweetheart. Wanna see your pretty face when you give it to me.”

Your brow pinches, your jaw limp as you choke back all the sounds clawing up from your chest. He grabs at your nipples so hard you jolt forward, nose to nose as he stares you down, and the coil in your belly snaps. He clamps one hand over your mouth to stifle the cries of bliss erupting from you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he goads. His eyes are dark with something deprived and ravenous. You grab at his wrist where his hand muffles your sounds, desperate to latch onto him, to be closer somehow.

“Fuck you’re pretty,” he breathes. 

Without warning he hooks a hand under your bare knee and pulls you sideways until your back lays awkwardly against the sink and counter, your bare leg dangling off the edge. He directs you to wedge your legs open while he unbuckles his belt and frees his weeping cock from his jeans. He strokes himself hungrily and tells you to sit still.

Your breath heaves your chest up and down as you watch him run the tip of his length up your folds and notch himself at your entrance. It eases inside the tiniest bit, and a hungry moan rips from your chest.

“Shit!” Tommy hisses when he feels your walls clench around the tip of him, greedy and trying to pull him in further. “Gonna hafta to talk to Joel ‘bout lettin’ me get into this cunt.”

“Please please please,” you chant.

God, you hope Joel would let him. You hope he would be there and watch you get used by somebody else, pliant and yielding to whatever was being done to you.

Tommy slips the ridge of his tip slowly out of you. “Squeeze it out,” he pants.

He holds himself at the base of his cock, waiting for you to contract your muscles hard enough for Joel’s leftover cum to leak out onto his tip. You push a few times and feel the warm slip of it ease out of your hole. 

“Give your mouth somethin’ it’s used to, to start,” he grunts. He holds his cock steady and brings it to your mouth. You gape your mouth open without any prompting. Tommy slides his cum covered cock past your lips and instructs you to clean it off. You work your tongue around his head and drink in Joel’s residual spend.

“Get it all, sweet girl. There you go. Give you somethin’ familiar before I get you acquainted with the next cock that’s gonna ruin you.” He laughs to himself when you moan at the promise of being used by him.

You open your mouth as wide as you can to show him you’ve satisfied his command. He smiles down at you with a soft reverence you’ve seen so many times from Joel. Your eyes go wide, waiting anxiously to do anything you can to make Tommy feel good.

“Gonna see if we can get you some practice on that throat, sweetheart,” he forewarns you. He gives himself a few languid strokes and searches your face for any of the hesitation from earlier.

“Can you come in my mouth?” you urge in a sweet, meek voice that contradicts the crude request you’re making.

Tommy groans and shoves his length into your mouth again. He holds onto the back of your head and tilts it in a bobbing motion onto his cock. He wasn’t as thick to take as Joel, but he had a curve to his that presented its own challenge to swallow down fluidly. He drives far enough that you start to choke and gag, which only sends renewed arousal between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls. He scoops you up from the counter and plants your feet onto the ground. You scramble to your knees, ignoring the cold sting of the tile against your bare knee. You grab at Tommy’s thighs and move your mouth against his crotch. You lick and suck at his balls and the underside of his length. You’re overwhelmed with the urge to please please please. There’s a compulsion to give yourself over to Tommy and let yourself get lost in the gratification of gifting him a flurry of euphoria.

He claws at the crown of your head for you to take him into your mouth again. You oblige and try to swallow him down as far as you can. He groans above you, sounding closer to his own release the more you work him. You’re glad to have him filling your mouth enough that you don’t have to put as much effort into being quiet. The slippery dregs of your squelching saliva gather on your lips and chin.

Tommy pulls you off of him, panting and grinning wildly at you with a sort of worshiping awe. You can only imagine how much of a slobbery, disheveled state you’re in.

“Makin’ a mess,” he pants in a laugh. He cups his fingers against your face and scoops your spit back into your mouth. “I think you like makin’ a mess.”

He laughs when you eagerly nod up at him. “Can’t send you out too sloppy this time around, sweetheart, but next time I’m gonna make sure you’re a fuckin’ wreck.”

Your face lights up at the promise that this won’t be the last time you get to have him like this.

“S’alright. We can get a little messy before I fuck my cum into your mouth.” He crouches down and inserts two fingers into you. Your entire body clenches at the abrupt intrusion. You can feel him curve his fingers inside you and drag them down and out.

“Empty your mouth,” he instructs as he stands straight again. You swallow all of your spit down until your mouth isn’t so coated in fluids. Tommy takes the fingers he’d just plunged into your pussy and scrapes them against your tongue and teeth. You taste Joel’s cum as it accumulates.

“Don’t swallow it. Wanna see you give me a little show, sweetheart. Blow some bubbles with it,” he taunts.

You smear as much of it as you can against your lips, coating the inner ring of them, and prop them open in an oval shape before gently pushing air out. A milky, translucent orb swells with your breath. It pops and splatters a bit on your face. You form another one and don’t move your eyes away from Tommy, who is watching you with rapt lechery as you blow cum bubbles with his brother’s hours-old spend.

“Damn, you’ll really do anythin’, huh?” he mocks. You catch the excited, voracious approval laced in the derisive comment.

“Not for everybody,” you reply pointedly in as clear of a voice as you can with your mouth still holding onto Joel’s cum until Tommy tells you to swallow it. Tommy must know you weren’t this malleable and willing with anyone other than Joel, and now him. Right?

His face softens a bit. He runs a finger across the curve of your cheek. “No, I suppose not,” he agrees. “Suppose I’d better take advantage of bein’ one of the only two who get to have ya like this, huh?”

Your lips curve upward. “Can I swallow him so I can have you now?” you ask with big, fluttery doe eyes.

Tommy starts jerking himself hard and fast and tells you to swallow. You empty the contents of your mouth down your throat and snap it back open for him to fill.

“You’re gonna wrap those pretty lips ‘round my cock, and when I fill that mouth you better not let a single fuckin’ drop slip out,” he instructs, suddenly stern and focused.

You vacuum your lips around him and look up with pleading eyes. He strokes himself hard, breathing heavier and faster, until he lets out a pained groan and starts shooting hot ropes of cum into your mouth. You push away the involuntary reflex to swallow as your mouth starts to fill up. You gag a few times when a sharp burst pummels the back of your throat, but you don’t dare swallow.

Tommy hisses a string of curses as he empties himself. He shakes his cock against the seal of your lips to signal he’s taking it out. You pucker and clamp down your lips, ensuring your mouth closes behind his red, swollen tip. He tucks himself back into his jeans and fastens them.

“Goddamn,” he huffs. He shakes his head with a lopsided grin as if he’s disoriented. As if it was you that had whipped him into a sensual frenzy instead of the other way around.

He helps you to stand and chuckles at your shaky legs. He props you against the counter and stoops down to get your panties and bottoms back to their original place. Your cheeks bulge slightly with the fill of him in your mouth. You wish you could speak, but there’s also something calming and comforting about the shared quiet between the two of you.

He grabs the bottom of his shirt and wipes your face with the inside of it, making you a bit more presentable before you exit the bathroom. He pats down your hair, something so tender and domestic against the backdrop of debauchery you’d just engaged in.

“Beautiful,” he grins. His eyes crinkle when his smile grows wide enough, and he looks so much like Joel in that moment you want to grab him up and not let him go.

“Now what you’re gonna do, sweetheart, is you’re gonna keep your mouth full until you can show Joel what a good job you did, alright?” he explains.

Your cheeks burn at the praise and at the thought of Joel inspecting all of Tommy’s cum coating your mouth. For reasons you can’t quite explain, it gives you a rush of excitement knowing you’ve been the receptacle for their unhinged desires, all within the span of a few hours.

“And you best hurry to where he’s sittin’ unless you catch somebody tryna start a conversation with ya. Can’t talk when your mouth is full of cum, huh? ‘Course knowin’ what kinda slut you are, I bet you’d like for ‘em to see it runnin’ down your chin and onto those nice tits of yours.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push down the new wave of arousal hitting you. If you lose focus, you might accidentally swallow.

“But you’re gonna keep it in there ‘til Joel can see it, aren’t ya?” he probes.

When you keep your eyes shut in concentration, he nudges your leg aside with his knee and lands a swat over your clothed clit. Your eyes tear open, and you practically gurgle scream a moan. You nod hastily in agreement, although part of you wants him to do that again.

“Damn, is there anythin’ you don’t like done to ya?” he sneers. He rubs a gentle palm over the crotch of your pants and drinks in the shaky sigh of pleasure that leaves your lungs. He brushes his nose against yours and closes his eyes.

“Pretty thing,” he murmurs. You can feel the whisps of his eyelashes flit against your skin. You’re anchored to the spot, captive to the serene hold of him against your body.

He peppers a few kisses along your cheek as he makes his way to your ear. “When y’all come over for dinner on Friday, I want you to leave your panties at home, you hear me?”

You whimper at the thought. He breathes a chuckle against the shell of your ear. “Joel might like ya to keep ‘em on, but I want you to take ‘em off for me. Can you do that? Can you leave those panties at home for me on Friday night?” he rasps.

Your hands snake up his arm and shoulder until your fingers tangle in the curls of hair along the nape of  his neck. You gently nod. “Good girl,” he says and gives you one last press of his lips against your forehead. “Now get goin’.” He jerks his head towards the door, and you shuffle obediently out of the bathroom. 

The Tipsy Bison is business as usual, and it seems strange that all of this was carrying on and didn’t somehow come to a complete standstill while you and Tommy wrenched each other apart and devoured the raw insides you found there. You’re in a bit of a haze as you wander towards where you last saw Joel. You take a moment to register the figure of someone who’s stepped in front of you, blocking your path forward. Your stomach lurches. It’s Maria, because of course it is.

Your mind wars with the guilt of her sudden appearance and the thrill of having Tommy pooled in your mouth.

“Have you seen Tommy? He said he was going to the bar, but I haven’t seen him,” she says loudly over the chatter.

You almost open your mouth to answer, in such a fluster you nearly forgot the fact that you can’t speak to her when your mouth is filled with her husband’s cum. Instead you clumsily shrug and motion like someone is hailing you over to them. You don’t stop for her to react to your odd behavior and instead make a beeline for Joel.

He sees you and relaxes into a smug grin. You practically fall into his lap as you sit beside him. He raises an eyebrow at your rushed, graceless movements but stills when he notices the tight clench of your jaw. You bore your eyes into his as you gently open your mouth enough for him to see inside, tilting your head back slightly so he can appreciate your commitment to your task.

His eyes flick down and darken as he scans your filled mouth. He rests a hand over his crotch and swallows hard. Your eyes flit back and forth in a silent request to swallow. He wraps a hand around the front of your neck and leans in. 

“You swallow when I give a little squeeze,” he instructs before pulling back to watch you.

He presses down gently on your throat, and you can feel the muscles contract against his hand as you swallow. A deep groan reverberates from his chest at the feeling. You lean forward and divulge every sordid detail in a hushed whisper. His hand leaves your neck and grips the top of your thigh. He lets you finish recalling and recounting it all for him. 

He’s suddenly scooting you over and up to stand. You’re out the door of the Tipsy Bison faster than you can discern what’s happening.

“What’re–”

“Been a bad girl,” he tuts. His arm around your back sets the fast gait home.

“But you—” you start to sputter.

“Lettin’ him empty me outta that cunt? After I told you to keep it in there?” he elaborates. He looks down at you with a wicked grin. “Gonna have to get you home and fix that right away, honey.”

You breathe a relieved laugh that he wasn’t somehow upset with the turn of events now that it had actually happened. No, this was your Joel, teasing you and keeping you on your toes.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” you ask in a flirty, coy voice.

“Know goddamn well what I mean. Gonna fuck you ‘n fill you up again, like you should be.” He gives you a playful wink that makes your chest tight with emotion.

You feel certain that this revolving door of affection and attention from the Miller brothers was something you could definitely get used to.

Brain Goblin went wild with this one. I had thought a lot about what happened after Liquid Gold, but it wasn't until recently that I got a really clear vision of what took place before, how it all came to be.

I hope the insight to her past gives context to what makes this slutty throuple so sweet and special.

As always, thank you for reading!

Art in graphic is a transformed work by artist Thomas Francis Dicksee.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

[0shewrites0]

liquid gold (new fic!)

fandom | LITG

endgame pairing | Alex x MC

synopsis |

Rory Baker has never been in love. But now she's standing in the middle of the infamous Casa Amor, all the possibilities and opportunities laid out before her, as endless as the sea. Fed up with all the meaningless hook-ups and waking up to strangers, she wants more.

Will she succeed in turning one of the boys' heads? And, more importantly, will she be able to fall in love?

genre(s) | a little (or maybe a lot? Idk yet) angst. fluff. drama. explicit content. MC has never been in love before.

pov | alternating. From MC’s to Alex’s to Summer’s…

a/n | I know I’m crazy for doing this but you gotta ride the wave, right? I really wanted to commit to my Toby fix it fic but I just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t fun. So I’m having fun with this fic instead. Obviously, I don’t know any more than anybody else, so going forward, a lot of the time I guess I’ll just have to wing it, which is a new experience for me as well but I’m excited. I’m writing this more for me than anybody else but thought I’d share it nonetheless 🫶🏼

tag list | let me know if you’re interested in reading and I’ll tag you whenever a new chapter gets uploaded

Read on ao3.

[googoogojob]

some weird messy sketches. i shouldn't post those but i do anyway..

[actual-changeling]

it is almost 2 am and i will NOT start re-reading slow show

five minutes later:

[fanaticsnail]

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes (1/2)

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Part 2 Here

Word count: 7,500+

Synopsis: Doffy is attempting to gain the upper hand against you. He's longed for you, yearned for you - in his own unique way. Considering you never give in to his flirtatious advances, he takes matters into his own hands and attempts to spike your drink. The problem? Your quick wit and nimble fingers switch whisky glasses with him, causing unforeseen problems that he has no cure for…

Warnings: Doflamingo x f!reader, NSFW, 18+, Mdni, smut, pollen fic, Pollen!Doffy x Unaffected!reader, dubcon, size difference (Doffy is 10’, reader is 5’+), degradation - Doffy receiving, yandere Doffy, Doffy is a brat, mentions of drugging, mention of poison, Doflamingo is a conniving bastard, swearing, choking - Doffy receiving, Doflamingo is his own warning, Doffy begs, toxic relationship, Doffy is infatuated, love confession, marriage proposal. ‘Mi amor,’ ‘Mami,’ femme titles used for reader.

Notes: this may not be everyone's cuppa, and it was absolutely something different I decided to try for pollen. Please read the warnings before reading the fic.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @nerium-lil @writingmysanity

Sitting at the lengthy dining table, Donquixote Doflamingo extended his glass out towards the gathering of eclectic individuals. Each person present had an array of wealth, titles and reputation; all represented with their names embroidered into their napkins and painted into their drinking glasses.  

Doflamingo had planned everything perfectly. He had plotted each element of the meal to have everyone relax into the welcoming environment: keeping the air light and merry. There was not a fork out of place, nor a knife unaccounted for. He wanted the mood light enough to have you not suspecting a thing to go wrong.

And everything was going exceptionally well, all according to his plan. 

“To a long and healthy relationship between us all,” Doflamingo's smirk grew on his face, him turning to you with a small wink, “And to casting aside differences in the face of humility. Salud.”

“Salud,” you and the crowd repeated in unison, all arms extended with beverages in hand. 

Your glasses all contained gold letters depicting your names and titles on the rim. The servers ensured the liquid was all topped up with your chosen beverage for the night. Your choice? Whisky, neat with no frills nor ice to taint the liquid. Just like your host, Donquixote Doflamingo. 

All according to your plan. 

As soon as you received an invitation to attend this dinner party, you knew Doflamingo was planning something sinister for you. His silly little mind games he used to attempt to get the better of you were always centric to his plans. To embarrass you, to humiliate you, to harm you, to ridicule you: this was always the aim. And you had had just about enough of this torment. 

Getting information out of his menagerie of guards and house staff was simple enough. Offer them enough Berry, and their lips would never stop moving. Hearing Doflamingo’s disappearance in the town square, halting over a small shop stocked with pills and powders, had you mortified at his cruel fate he had in store for the evening. 

You expected poison to meet with your lips the moment you raised your glass to meet them. Your little game would rise to the greatest crescendo yet, you clutching at your rapidly closing throat and pleading for reprieve. Considering Doflamingo was the one to purchase the powdered poison, he would likely only offer you the antidote if you begged for it. 

In lieu of following through with the action of swallowing a heaping gulp of poisoned whiskey, you decided to give the pink-feathered bastard a taste of his own medicine. You reap what you sow, was how you figured it. 

“Fuck around and find out,” you chanted internally. Your soft, knowing smile drew over your features; watching Doflamingo drain the contents from the glass in his hand with gusto. You mirrored his action, downing the liquid in a single gulp. 

Doflamingo shot you a smirk, watching your face for any immediate changes to your body. A flush of your cheeks, a dilation of your pupils, your lips parting and becoming both drier and filling with saliva in unison. He was shocked when you returned his smile: only warmth being offered to him from your place across the dining table before turning to the woman beside you. 

He initially thought drugging you with a form of poison would be a hilarious sight: watching you claw at your neck and beg for the antidote in front of a room of his wealthy guests gave him a sick sense of satisfaction. But to give you an incredibly potent aphrodisiac with no known cure aside from giving into your cravings? Why, the thought alone made his cock twitch in eager anticipation.

He wanted nothing more than to have you shed your fine clothes of their place on your body, tearing them at the seams and beg for him to finally fuck you. He wanted you so desperate for him, you'd care not of the fact the room was full with those in your same league of formal standing. 

As you had always turned down his prior advances of you; he wanted to claim you publically, and leave no room for misinterpretation for his ownership of you. He wanted you to want him, to yearn for him, to plead for his cock with lust oozing from your body in rapid waves. 

He wanted you to want him in the same way he chased his release into his palm every night since your first introduction together. He wanted you the same way he would pay concubines to pretend to be you: copying your mannerisms, immigrating your vocal cadence, wearing similar attire. 

It was never enough for him. He wanted the real thing, and he hoped this final push would have you want him back. 

His craving to have you on your knees and begging for his cock to fill you to the brink with his cum, your neediness flushing your face, the whines and whimpers you'd elicit was too much for his mind to catch up with. He was already feeling aroused by the thought alone, confused at how alite his body felt with just the simple flash of erotic imagery. 

Suddenly the room was hot. Too hot. His clothes were too tight, the lights were too bright; causing him to wince behind his rosy glasses. His cheeks tinted with a soft pink, his body immediately becoming ignited with the hot beads of glistening sweat. 

He attempted to process the feeling, the stiffness of his erection brushing painfully against his striped, leather pants. Eyes widening and teeth clenching, he hissed out a winced breath as the sensitive buds of his nipples grazed against the open jacket firmly clutched against his chest. 

Looking down at the glass in his hands, his lips parted with horror. 

Your name was intricately painted in perfect cursive on the rim, each letter sparkling in the light illuminating the room. He snapped his face over to you, watching as your smile climbed up at the corners of your lips. 

Remaining blissfully unaware of how much torture you narrowly avoided, you asked the waiter for another glass of whiskey for yourself and your companion beside you.  

The glass in your hand had his name “Donquixote Doflamingo” in coiled lettering on the rim. As the waiter filled it, you held your eyes firmly against your conversation partner before you slowly sipped at the contents within. 

The cruel reality of his situation now dawned on him. 

He had unintentionally spiked himself with the incurable aphrodisiac, in public, instead of you. And now his body was desperate to see his lust satisfied by any means necessary. 

“And what did he say, Maria?” you asked the woman beside you, your attention fully fixed on her eyes as she relayed her tale. 

“He said: ‘a goddess as radiant as you should have men falling to their knees in adoration’,” Maria mocked in a lower, masculine tone. You bit back your smirk, eyeing her dangerously. 

“And what did you do in response to that?” you urged her with an excitement in your knowing tone. 

“I let him worship,” she smirked at you. Both of you became overcome with a fit of giggles, laughing at the sheer audacity of her promiscuous nature. You tapped her forearm with your hand playfully, enjoying a soft shove in return from her shoulder. 

Of the guests amongst you: Maria and you had known each other the longest. Both of you felt out of place here, being two of the few women present. You were roughly of similar ages, both unmarried and unspoken for. She had a soft-spot for the marines, her latest conquest being the right-hand man of Vice-Admiral Garp. 

“You are incorrigible,” you tease her, with a soft, “Atta girl,” added, nudging her with your shoulder before elevating your drinking glass up to take a sip. 

“Speaking of,” she returned your gentle nudge with one of her own, “Doflamingo’s glass? How'd you manage that?” She gestured to the cup in your hand. 

“Bribed the server,” you smirked, clinking the rim of the cup with the one in her own hand, “Had a feeling a game was afoot. And you know what they say,” you leant against her shoulder, both fixing your eyes on the blonde man at the head of the table. 

“Play stupid games,” you both uttered in unison, “Win stupid prizes," concluding with a sinister chuckle,

Your host for the night was hunched over the table, his teeth clenched firmly shut and soft beads of sweat were rapidly now gathering at his temple. This only solidified your suspicions, noticing the silence he was presenting in lieu of his usual conversation. 

Raising your brow, you remained focussed on him as the grip his hands perched against the table made his knuckles flash white. Curiosity plagued you, unsure as to why he was not asking his staff for the antidote to cure him. He was obviously under the effects of some kind of poison, his heavy breathing and indicator of such a plight. 

Why would he not ask for help? 

His eyes meet with yours, his frown deep and teeth grimacing. Quietly raising your eyebrows at him, you gently extend his glass in the air to add further sting to the ridicule. His eyes drew up to glare beneath his pink glasses. His pupils were focussed on your body, noticing every exposed area of flesh remaining unshrouded on the neckline of your button-up shirt. His eyes attempted to undress you, his gaze scorching you beneath his rose-tinted glasses. 

Noticing his gaze, you hum in deep thought. Shrugging your shoulders back, you turn to Maria beside you and give her a short nudge. Upon finishing her final bite of dessert, she turned towards you. 

“I’m going to go and gloat for a minute at my quick swipe,” you smirk at the woman to your side, “I'll be back once I'm satisfied he's ‘faced his humility’.” 

“Be safe!” she giggled, ushering you on with two quickened waves of her hands. 

“I'll be so safe,” you mocked her in return. Rising to your feet, you tucked your chair beneath the table and watched as several others did the same. All mingling amongst one another, you made yourself comfortable in a now vacant seat beside Doflamingo. 

“Doflamingo,” you nodded your acknowledgement, crossing your knees beneath the table and nudging his calf with your foot, “You've been awfully quiet tonight.” Trailing your toes over his calf, you noticed the hitch of his breath as he balled his knuckles into clenched fists. 

“Something amiss?” You asked him, placing down your drinking glass for the night while circling the rim with your index finger, “Something not quite going according to plan, perhaps?” Your smile grew as you noticed his shoulders tense, his breath hitch and his legs began to shake beneath your foot.

Gently trailing your toes higher, you eyed his reaction cautiously. His body was as hard as polished marble, his hair now slightly damp with a small amount of sweat gathering on his forehead. 

“Oh, Doffy,” you hissed a small whisper, your foot now tracing the outer edge of his thigh, “What the fuck were you attempting to poison me with this time?” You clicked your tongue at him, pouting through pursed lips, “Doesn't look like it's quite agreeing with you.”

“Out,” he whispered in a gruff bark. 

The quiet growl cut through the air like a steel knife carving through tough flesh. All guests immediately drew their eyes over to the pink-feathered host with a snap of their chins towards him. 

“I said out,” he snarled, his eyes frantically darting between each member attending the dinner party, “Everyone out. Out now.” 

You flinched at his change of tone, jumping back in your seat but refusing to hede to his dictation. Doflamingo felt his blood ignite with a passionate lust he had never experienced. He needed the cure, and he needed it now. 

Each guest rose to their feet, murmuring amongst themselves as they hastily fled the space with caution. Against your better judgment to follow suit, you remained behind and rose the glass marked ‘Donquixote Doflamingo’ to your lips and finished the remaining liquid within. 

Whiskey burned its way down your throat, the honey-sweet notes lingering on your palate as you placed the glass down once more. You rose to your feet and grasped for the water jug in front of Doflamingo and poured your emptied glasses with the icy water. 

“You don't look so good, sweetheart,” you cooed in a mocking gloat, placing the water glass with your name in front of him, “Have a drink, you'll feel better.” Doffy remained unmoving, clenching his eyes tightly shut as his body fought against itself. 

He tried to convince himself he'll manage this. He'll get through it without asking for your aid. He'll be able to withstand the potency of the aphrodisiac without becoming a whimpering mess in front of you.  

But then you spoke. 

And you kept speaking. 

Your sweet voice cut into his resolve with expert precision. Haunting him, cursing him with the ridicule that you should've been experiencing. He attempted to control his urges by gulping back a dry mouthful of saliva and concentrating on slowing his breathing. 

“Oh, come now,” you scolded the tall, blonde, “Nothing to say for yourself, huh?” You leaned your hips back on the table and eyed him cautiously, “Not even going to order the staff to get the oral antidote for whatever you've-.”

“-There is no oral antidote,” he spat through gritted teeth. He tried to ignore the twitch of his cock at the mention of ‘come’ and ‘oral’ from your lips. The swelling blood pooling in his cock had the shiny tip brushing against his leather pants. He mewled at the small twitch of his oversensitive knob, attempting to disguise his whimper with a soft cough. 

The air grew thick and tense; silence swelling in an uncomfortable dance of fluttering heartbeats. After taking a moment to hone in on your thoughts, you slowly inhaled and exhaled alongside externally verbally processing. 

“You were going to have me drink a poison tonight that had no cure?” you uttered darkly, “And watch me convulse as I took my last breaths?” Down turning your snarl and drawing up your heckles, you placed your foot on Doflamingo's bare chest and kicked hard. You glared into his shrouded eyes. 

“You were going to publicly execute me in front of your guests?” you continued, “My friends, my colleagues, my potential clients? Doflamingo,” you continued, leaning down and pressing your chest into your knee, “You deserve your cruel fate. Suffer, asshole.”

A shaky, large hand slowly drew itself up and softly cupped your ankle. He cautiously lifted your foot off his chest and pressed his lips against the ball of your foot. As soon as that kiss ended, another was placed slightly higher up into your inner calf. 

He removed your shoe, casting it to the side of him as he groped at you with his large hands. Hastily drawing his hands down to collect your other foot, he rid the presence of your shoe from you before placing your toes down on his thigh. 

Shock wrote itself on your face as a flurry of several more kisses were pressed into you. Each kiss was accompanied by a strangled whimper falling from Doflamingo's lips: breath hitched, brows furrowed and throat humming out the calls of desperation. 

“It h-has a cure, mi amor,” he softly whined into your leg, “Just not a manufactured one.” His lips could barely part with your skin, each soft kiss growing hungrier the further up your legs he drew. Humming through several more of his kisses, you were too terrified to truly correlate his affectionate advances to any known experience prior. 

Donquixote Doflamingo had always been intrigued by you. Always finding some way to bully, vex and torture you. This was something you never anticipated. His desperation in need for you was now depicted as his tongue raked up your thighs: his moist organ dampening your pants with a long and lustful streak of saliva. 

“Absolutely not,” you spat, forcing Doflamingo back into his seat by pressing your foot against his chest once again. “What the fuck, Doflamingo?” He mewled as your heel grazed his right nipple, his body crying out in relief and arousing itself further. 

From this angle, you hastily drew your eyes down to the large polearm hoisting up his pants in a perfect peaked tent. His large cock left very little to the imagination beneath the shroud of his leathery pants. 

He whispered your name, the last syllable calling out in a soft sob. His breaths were both deep and shallow, his body hot and cold, his mind clear and cloudy - he had no idea how to process these emotions. All he knew is he needed you. He wanted you. He craved you. 

Disgust was now openly displayed on your features at his desperation, watching the mighty King of Dressrosa sob and cry for you like a child that had a favorite toy hovering just out of reach. His hands began opening and closing, the strings of his devil-fruit power beginning to hover in his fingertips; only to fizzle away as soon as they formed. 

“What were you attempting to spike me with tonight?” you hissed at the blonde king, adding an emphatic kick to his chest to regain his attention. 

“An aphrodisiac,” he admitted, choking on his confession as he attempted to withhold it, “One so potent, the only cure for it is s-sex.” He moaned with his hissed admission, throwing his head back and whimpering. 

You sucked in a horrified gasp, recoiling as you understood exactly what he was admitting to you. You took a moment to collect your thoughts and mull over your next actions. Hardening your resolve, you shook it off and removed your foot from his chest, before straightening up your clothes. 

“Fuck you, Doflamingo,” you spat, beginning to walk away from him and collect your discarded shoes. He spun in his chair, almost knocking the seat over with the haste he followed you with. 

“Where are you going?” he whispered your name, falling onto his knees and needily following you with desperate longing. You growled, pairing your shoes and beginning to attempt to exit the dining room. 

“Getting you your concubines,” you spat over your shoulder, “Only cure for this is sex, and there is no way you're getting that from me,” Your hand hovered the doorknob, halting as a large hand drew down onto your knuckles and held your hand firmly away from it. 

“Don’t,” he huffed a gruff growl, his body leaning unconsciously towards you. 

“You want the cure? I'm getting it for you,” you whispered, rage bubbling within your chest, “It's likely better than the fate you had in store for me.”

Silence was once again uncomfortable between you, your confirmation solidified in the quiet of his response. 

“You would've had me beg for it, wouldn't you?” you uttered darkly, “Have me grovel and plead for release in front of the entire dinner party.” His hand tightened over yours, bordering on painful. 

“Yes,” he admitted in an icy tone. He sucked in his bottom lip, clenching his teeth over them and moaned while inhaling your scented perfume. 

“And who was going to be the likely cure for this tonight?” you shot over your shoulder, noticing his face was hovering closely against your shoulder, “You?”

“Yes,” he whined, hovering his body behind yours and caging it against the door. 

“You bastard,” you spat, turning around to face him and breaking your hand away from his, “You don't deserve a cure for this-.”

“-I know,” he sobbed, dropping to his knees in front of you, “I know, I know. I just-...” 

“Just what, Doffy?” you growled at him, “What now? After all this, what-?”

“-I just wanted you to want me how desperately I want you,” he confessed in a single breath, his words fleeing from him with unbridled gusto, “I wanted you to want me so badly, your body couldn't stand another moment without me. And now that I've taken the fucking drug instead of you,” he lunged towards you, clutching at your thighs, “I can barely keep up with how much I want you.”

“Doffy, what are you-?” you began, your breath hitching in a shriek as he ripped off your pants in a quick swipe. “Doflamingo!” you yelped as he buried his nose against your clothed cunt. 

“Let me taste you,” he whined, nuzzling against your panties with his nose and greedily lapping at the cotton with his lengthy tongue, “Please, let me have you cry for me. I n-need you.”

“Doffy,” you uttered sharply, nudging his shoulders away from you - which did nothing to halt his enthusiastic advance. He instead circled his arms around your thighs and hooked them over his shoulders. 

Shrieking, your back was now placed against the door: Doflamingo's head buried deep between your thighs as he clasped his hands around your ass to hold you in place. Greedily bobbing his head, he began lapping at your cunt with his slippery tongue, paying no mind at all to the fact what he wanted most was shrouded by the fabric of your panties.

With each cruel swipe, a single word was chanted in a penance-like prayer. The word was music to your ears, your resolve crumbling with each whimpered petition. The song of his desperate pleading beckoned you to let go and give into him. 

“Please.” He hooked his lengthy tongue beneath the fabric, clenching his teeth on the elastic and noseying it aside with his chin. “Please.” Flattening his tongue, he gasped as he tasted your sweet nectar and swirled his organ over your clit. “Please.” 

The ache in his pants was so strong, he could barely take another moment not being buried to the hilt within you. He continued to make an effort to withhold his cravings, to ensure you were ready to take him, as he was twice your size in every way. 

Being the giver was not his strength. Doflamingo would take, take, take until there was nothing left to take from his bedmates. He wanted to chase his release, no matter the consequences his large cock would indent while sheathed within a partner. He simply didn’t care about them, but he did care about you. He wanted you to want him so badly, desperate to earn your approval and love. He needed you to know how far he was willing to go to ensure this was as good for you as it was going to be for him. 

You barely had a moment to adjust to what was happening to you. Replaying the events of the evening perplexed you with even more confusion. 

Doflamingo invited you to dinner with the intention of poisoning you. A poison that was an incurable aphrodisiac that made you desperate for sex with any willing partner. The reason he wanted to poison you with this was because he liked you, and wanted to pursue you romantically. And instead of asking to formally court you, he decided spiking your drink in public was the answer. 

You had every right to push him away, to tell him “no,” and to halt his advances. But at each skillful swipe of his tongue, you felt more of yourself melting away beneath his humility. His apology dictated to you with each intentional swirl of his lengthy tongue.

“Doffy,” you mewled to him, feeling his tongue dip into your slick entrance. His nose circled your clit, his skillful organ greedily flicking in and out of your cunt while hooking up within you to climb deeper into your body. Your walls clenched around his tongue, his chin spiriting you towards bliss as he ground your pussy against his face. 

“Please,” he muffled into your core, desperately lapping up your arousal like a dog parched for water, “Please, please.” You felt your stomach tighten, his aggressive chase of your high with his lips wrapping around your sensitive bud ushering you to your unravel. 

“Doffy, wh-what are you-oh!” your breathy gasp had his hands pawing at your ass, grinding your core against his face harder to urge you closer to your high. Your hands pawed at the wall behind you to brace yourself against it. You found the pit of your stomach wind tighter and shoot sparks down your legs. He moaned into you, expressing his gratitude at your body beginning to give into him and release your inhibitions onto his face. 

“Please cum,” he begged, slurping messily and lapping up your juices, “Cum on my tongue. I n-need it.”

Your hands shot down to his hair, clutching at the strands in heaped fistfuls. As the coil inside you snapped, your lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as he channeled his desperation into meeting your needy thrusts and grinds against his head. “Let go, let go,” he begged you, his face becoming coated by your gushing slick. 

“D-Doffy! Oh, f-fuck. Oh fuck, I'm cumming. You fucking prick, Doffy!” You mewled his name, crying for him with your eyes clenched tightly shut. 

His hair began to burn within your fists, but he truly didn’t care. His tongue lapped up your gushing cunt over emphatically while grinding you skillfully against his nose, lips, tongue and chin. Riding your high, Doflamingo continued to hold you against his face as your soul fell back inside your body. 

“So good,” the older Donquixote brother complimented you, looking up at you through his glasses, “Now let me fuck you.” He withdrew your hips from his head, attempting to wrap your legs around his waist and shepherd you over the waistband of his pants. 

He pawed at the front button, his cock immediately springing forth and glistening in the light. Eyes spread wide with worry, you shook your head after feeling yourself recover from your high. Your underwear once again shrouded your glistening core, protecting you from a small twitch of interest from Doflamingo’s aching and incredibly large cock. 

“No, Doffy,” you firmly commanded, wriggling yourself away from his hold over you. As you side stepped, his hands extended in longing with outstretched, splayed fingers. He whimpered, his body leaning down and shaking with desire. 

“B-But I-...” he didn't get a chance to speak, as you growled over his pleas. 

“-You pinned me to the wall, and forced me cum on your face after you attempted to poison me,” you barked at him, “And now you expect me to help you by what? What, Doffy?” you snarled intp his face, baring your teeth at him, “You want me to sit on your cock and ride you until you cum? Tsk, pathetic.”

A sound you were not expecting to exhale through Doflamingo's lips at this moment. He sobbed, his lips quivering as his hands shuddered. His lengthy digits hovered over his cock, desperately wanting to chase his high into his fist: only withholding it because he knew it would make his situation all the more severe. He knew he couldn’t cum without external, other bodily stimuli. He needed you to help him, and he bit back a soft sob as his eyes grew glossy behind his pink glasses. 

“I need you,” he whimpered, “I need you so badly. I needed you when you were first introduced to me, and I have needed you ever since.”

“I simply do not care, Doflamingo,” you spat in return, his soft sob doing nothing to break you away from your resolve, “The only thing I’ll do for you is get you a concubine to sleeve your cock in, but otherwise I am done.”

“I don’t want them, I want you,” he whimpered, shaky hands balling into his covered thighs. His cock twitched in the air, the veiny underside throbbing with pulsating longing. You fold your arms over your chest, looking down on the taller man with absolute disgust. He held your gaze with his shrouded eyes, disguising his longing behind their tinted hue. 

“You repulse me,” you snarled, walking over to his kneeling position on the floor.

“I adore you,” he mewled through his confession, gasping as you grasped his girthy shaft. 

“You don’t deserve this,” you began pumping his shaft, flicking your thumb over his glistening knob. 

“You deserve the world,” he confessed, a small release of tears began expelling from his eyes. You halted your fisting of his cock, focussing your unrelenting grasp over his tip and squeezing it. 

“I despise you,” you spat, using your unoccupied hand to pry his glasses away from his face; throwing them on the table beside you. As soon as your attention returned to his now unconcealed eyes, your breath was stolen from your lungs. 

“I desire you,” he whispered, blinking slowly with his lengthy blonde eyelashes. You understood now why he concealed them behind his sinister glasses. His irises were a pastel pink, eyes expressive now they were unshrouded by the coloured glass. There was no lie presented within his eyes, honesty being the only inhabitant lying within. He was a very pretty man, especially with his whole face now presented to the light. 

“You make me sick,” you lied through gritted teeth as you rolled your neck, stepping out of your panties and straddling his lap, “You are foul,” you anchored your knees against his hips, placing your heels firmly on the floor beside him, “Obnoxious and detestable.”

“Mami, stop teasing me with your horrible words,” he moaned, “I’ll cum.”

“You’ll cum when I allow you to cum,” you retorted firmly. The bob of his adams apple did not escape your notice, nor did the soft roll of his glassy pastel eyes. You clicked your tongue, lining up your slit with the tip of his cock. 

“Don’t you fucking move, Doflamingo,” you barked your orders at him, “You’re a great deal larger than I am, and I am no mere whore you paid to fuck yourself stupid in.” He sucked in a soft whimper as he felt your prior release coat his knob, “I don’t particularly enjoy taking partners twice my size, and I don’t want to get hurt because you decided you wanted to buck up suddenly.”

“I-I won’t, mi amor,” he stuttered, crying out a little with his lips parted, “I’ll be a good boy, I swear. So good for you.” 

“Pathetic prick,” you mewled at him, eyes wincing as your body adjusted to taking his tip inside you, “It hurts,” you cried out a little as your body began to sink onto him. Your slow descent atop his cock, impaling yourself on his thick shaft, had your breath hitch and a soft whimper leave you, “And you were going to rail me with it, weren’t you?”

He stooped low, covering his eyes by burying his head against your clavicle. He huffed out his restraint, his voice shuddering as he felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. Wrapping his arms around your back, his fingertips ghosted around your body to trace gentle encouraging circles against your skin. 

“Answer me, asshole,” you sobbed, slowly sinking down as you felt the blunt, mushroomed tip begin to kiss your cervix, “You owe me that much.” Anchoring your hands against his shoulders, you braced yourself as you continued to inch your way down his lance of a cock. The girth was almost the width of your forearm, your glistening walls struggling to stretch to accommodate him. 

His shoulders shook, his lips finding your collar bone and pressing gentle kisses against it. He winced as he disciplined his body to wait for you to adjust to him, sniffing back a small cry.

“Th-The pollen makes you-... nnnmpph-... Makes your arousal heighten,” he winced at his resolve, bracing you within his arms and snaking his large hand up your back, “You would’ve b-been too far gone to care.” 

“Is that what you are, Doflamingo?” you snarled at him, sinking yourself past your limit to suck more of his full length inside your body, “Too far gone to care?”

“I want you, mi amor,” he murmured into your shoulder, nose rubbing against your neck and brushing your blouse away from covering your chest, “Although, I a-am reaching my l-limit for tolerance. I need to fuck you. I need t-to cum inside you.”

“Don’t you fucking dare move,” you whimpered at him, “You’re too f-fucking b-big.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, tearing his face away from you to look into your eyes, “I am so sorry.” His expressive eyes pleaded for you to understand how hard he was trying to hold himself back. His pink irises were eclipsed by his blown pupils, his lips open and panting, his temple bleeding with drops of heavy sweat. He couldn’t help a soft rock of his hips, testing how your body adjusted to him. 

“Stop!” you barked at him, “Stop that right now or I’ll leave.” Doffy whined, prying open your shirt with one quick rip, tearing the buttons from the seams and revealing your bare chest to him. The buttons flew over the room, your nipples perking up now revealed to the cool of the air. Your sleeves fell down your shoulders and each inch of revealed skin was immediately replaced by Doflamingo’s lips. 

“I’m r-reaching the e-end of my resolve, mi amor,” he confessed, “I-I’m c-close, and I need you to bounce a little on me. Please ride me as you are now, you d-don’t need to take any more of my length. Please just bounce on what you can take. I’ll be so good.”

“Close just from me taking your partial length? You’re so fucking pathetic,” you degraded him, your voice solid and unwavering. You felt the twitch of his cock, his body revealing more to you than he would ever audibly inform you, “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Doffy whimpered.

“S-Stop degrading me,” he attempted to growl, his voice breaking and turning more into a breathy pant, “Stop it or I’ll cum, mi amor. I’ll cum so fucking hard for you.” His whispered confession had you elevate a sinister smirk up your lips.

“Stop calling me ‘mi amor’,” you wrapped your right hand around his throat, your left perched on his shoulder as you sunk yourself down on him, “I’m not your love. You're a conniving and devious bastard, and I despise you.”

“Just like that, Mami,” he whimpered, hands falling to your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, “I know you hate me. I adore that about you. I wanted you for so long, and you’re so, so good.”

“At least your ears work, you arrogant prick,” you released your firm hold on his throat, glaring into his eyes as you continued to take more of him into you. You became more confident in riding his swollen cock, bouncing, writhing and grinding your slick cunt against his pelvis, “Maybe there is hope for you after all-.”

“-No, no,” he begged, pressing his throat against your palm, “No: I’m nauseating, I’m disgusting, I’m pathetic. Please, please choke me. Tell me how much you hate me. Ride my cock while you tell me you find me repulsive.” 

“Oh fuck, Doffy,” you bit back your moan, feeling the rapid approach of your second orgasm stampeed within your abdomen. You choked him harder, forcing his eyes to meet yours as you circled your hips on his cock. His eyes held firm to yours, feeling the tangible dislike against him from you. He fought back the urge to roll his eyes back in bliss, his balls sucked deep within his stomach the longer you rode him. 

“I abhor you,” you whined, feeling him hold back meeting your bobbed movements. You finally began encouraging him to thrust up into you, your motions now rhythmic and in perfect synchrony. 

“I adore you,” he whispered in return, placing his lips against your jaw and tenderly kissing you. 

“I f-fucking loathe you,” you felt the familiar sparks indicating the eruption of an impending orgasm. Your pussy began contracting around him, your walls beckoning him with rhythmic throbbing. 

Whimpering, your world came crashing like waves breaking down cinder blocks. You threw your head back, keening more so at the fact Doflamingo made you cum for a second time tonight. The first one was against your will, this one you ensured you were in control of. 

“I fucking l-love you,” he held his eyes against yours, his orbs glassy as they filled with tears, “I love you so fucking much,” he mewled in bliss as spurts of his hot cum splashed deep within you, “I-I-... I’m cumming, oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m c-cumming. You’re s-so good. I love you s-so fucking much. I love you.” 

He cried, hot tears of relief spilling down his cheeks as he sobbed through his accentuated release. His lip quivered, his highly emotive eyes looking almost innocent the longer he rocked his hips up into yours. You squeezed his throat, choking him as your pussy milked him of his large load. 

The spill of his seed dripped down your legs and onto his patterned leather pants. The blunt tip of his velvety cock continued to kiss your cervix, propelling you into a longer release. Your walls could barely contract around his cock due to the stretch, but each time Doffy’s cock released a squirt of his cum, it twitched back enough for your cunt to wring his shaft. 

The twin highs seemed to last an eternity. Spurts of his load continued mixing with your slick and Doflamingo’s prior saliva. You were not sure when exactly it happened, but you found yourself within an almost loving embrace within Doflamingo’s arms. His cock was sleeved completely within you to the hilt, your arms circling his shoulders as you both hid your faces in each other’s necks. His hands gripped your waist, his blonde eyelashes ticking your shoulder as he buried himself deeper within you. 

Sunk to the hilt, you remained that way until your thighs began to burn from holding your body up over his thighs. Your pussy began to ache, coming down from your high with his full length still buried within you. Unhooking your arms from his shoulders, you attempted to remove yourself from his embrace to no avail. He held you firmly, not enough to bruise, but not allowing any room for you to wriggle away from him. 

“Doflamingo, release me,” you barked at him, shoving his shoulders away in an attempt to reveal his eyes to you. 

He held you tighter. 

“Doflamingo, let me go,” you spat, trying again to flee from his steely grip. He gripped his elbows behind your back, holding you firmer. 

Your panic grew more frantic, your heart beating faster than it did when you rode through your bliss. 

“Doflamingo, you will break away from me this instant,” you pushed and shoved him with all your might, only managing to have your abdomen ache at being so full for so long. 

He refused. 

“Doflamingo, if you don’t free me from your grip right now; I’ll-,” Doflamingo murmured against your chest, halting your wriggling and frantic movements. 

“-But if I let you go, you’ll flee,” his voice whimpered, his chin anchoring against your chest and staring his blush-coloured orbs up at you. You felt yourself become breathless beneath the spell of his loving look, feeling all emotion pouring from his eyes onto you. 

“Yeah, that’s the point,” you attempted to break from his embrace, only causing Doflamingo to grip you tighter. 

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he massaged down your back, pressing on your hips firmly enough to lock you against him, “I meant every word I said. I love-.”

“-And I meant every word I said, Donquixote,” you winced against him, attempting to pry his hands off you by gripping his wrists. He was far stronger than you were, causing panic to rise within your chest, “I hate you.”

“Marry me.” 

Those words shocked you, causing you to snap your eyes up to meet his. Again, those ruby orbs held you captive. You couldn’t believe how expressive they were. 

His soul was raw behind those twin lanterns, illuminating his face with the innocence you were certain had long-since left him. Still, you remained firm - the softening of Doflamingo’s cock within you brought you crashing back to reality. 

“Never.” 

“Consider it,” he sighed, releasing your left thigh and cupping your cheek with his left hand, “Consider it, and you will want for nothing. That’s all I ask,” he rose from his stoop and pressed his forehead against yours, “That’s all I want. All I’ve only ever wanted.” 

Using this opportunity: you hastily rose to your feet, the crude squelch of Doflamingo’s flaccid cock exiting your slit prompting you to cringe more than the embarrassment you felt at his profession of love. You felt the mix of fluids seep out of your core, dripping down your legs and onto the floor. He called your name, wincing now he felt empty and unfulfilled without you wrapped around him. 

“No,” you retorted, bending down to recover your panties and pants. You wrapped your top around your chest to shield your body away from his eyes. 

“You would be my queen,” he tried again, leaning forward on his knees and looking up at you, “Queen of Dressrosa. Queen of my heart. I would have you rule beside me as an equal, mi amor-.”

“-I said ‘no’, Donquixote.” Your buttons from your shirt lay scattered on the floor, your eyes darting around while arguing whether they're worth collecting. 

“Please,” he whispered his soft beg, his palms finding the floor as he began to crawl towards you, “Please, I need you. I want you. I crave you. I would bleed for you, die for you, kill for you - just say you'll be mine.”

“Look,” you turned on your heel, glaring at him with enough animosity to halt his low stalking prowl, “The next time you attempt to drug me over dinner and accidentally drug yourself in my place,” you snarled, prompting Doffy’s eyes to fall half-lidded in adoration, “Do not call on me for aid, you won't find any empathy from me.”

You hurriedly thrust your panties and pants back over your sticky legs, tucking your shirt into them as Doflamingo sat back on his knees, kneeling in stunned silence. Without a further word, you made your way towards the large exit, only stopping your withdrawal when Doflamingo tried one final time to woo you. 

“You didn't even let me kiss you,” he whispered in a voice so soft, you halted in place to hear him. You turned your chin, glancing at him over your shoulder as he sat in somber silence. 

“If you think you're getting a kiss from me after all that-...” you began, fully turning to face him as his head lay hanging low to avoid your eyes. You sighed, finally in pity for a man who resorted to great lengths to gain your attention, “...you get one to show me your gratuity.”

Doflamingo perked up, his ruby eyes meeting with yours with the hope of a child being promised their greatest coveted prize. 

In a few hasty strides, you made your way back over to Doflamingo. He continued to kneel beneath you, cock still hanging limply over the waistband of his pants. You grimaced at the flaccid cock, noticing that its limp length was still well above the average size of the cocks you'd seen prior. 

You shook your head, taking Doflamingo's cheek in your palm and elevating his face to meet yours. Lips closing in a soft purse, you collected his plump lips beneath yours in a soft and tender kiss. Parting your lips, you gently grazed his mouth with a soft swirl of your tongue. He moaned against your lips, large hands perching on your hips and holding you firmly against him. 

Tilting your head, you bumped Doflamingo's chin with your own to deepen it. He sighed into your mouth, allowing you to initiate how much emotion you were willing to press into him. His lips felt warm, encumbering and loving, something you were not expecting to experience from any encounter with the King of Dressrosa. 

Even though he had confessed his love for you, the softness he was presenting you with was foreign in comparison to his harsh dictatorship. You swirled your hands behind his head, massaging his scalp in soothing circles. A happy chirp fled from his lips to yours, his smile evident as his tongue collided with yours. 

Breaking away from his embrace, your hands raked through his blonde hair affectionately. He hummed up at you, his blonde eyelashes fluttering beneath his half-hooded eyes. 

“I'll cherish the gift of your lips always, mi amor,” he sighed up, the sparkle in his ruby gaze. That title snapped you away from your daze, shaking your head and once again grimacing. 

“Never call me ‘mi amor’ again, asshole,” you spat hastily, refusing to allow him a semblance of your heart, “I'm not your love, I'll never be your love. You're fucking pathetic, and I hate you.”

“Stop being mean to me,” he licked his lips, his gaze growing dark, “I’m already starting to get hard.”

[kitten4sannie]

ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void

communion

pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)

summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)

a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33

p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼

song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)

No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.

Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.

He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.

“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.

Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.

“Amen.”

Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”

You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.

“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”

Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”

It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.

You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.

“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.

“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”

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[acapelladitty]

Strike A Bargain, Light A Match

Pairing: The Ghoul/Female Reader

AO3 Link

Fic Masterlist

Summary: Stuck in the desert and desperate for water, you find yourself captured by a ghoul who makes you an offer that you simply cannot refuse. (2.8k words)

(tw for: blowjobs, mildly dubious consent, cum marking, ropes/restraints, dirty talk, mild force, throat fucking)

As with most things in life, if something seemed too good to be true then it always was.

A canister, clear and blue and brimming with water, would always stand out against the desert background like a sore thumb and you knew that something wasn’t right. But, needs must, and the thirst which clawed at your senses made you stupid.

Christ, your fingers had barely brushed the lid of the canister when you were attacked.

You hadn't seen the rope arching towards you but you had felt the effect as it looped around your legs, quick as a bullet, and pulled them out from under you - slamming your body to the ground as a thick plume of dirt kicked up around your stunned frame to block out the darkening sky.

Voice hoarse due to the lack of moisture in your body, the sound that you made was almost like that of an animal, keening and rough, as you writhed on the ground. Hands flying to the rope which is encasing your legs, your fingers freeze in place as the unmistakable click of a gun echoes in your ear.

"Don't be touching that rope, darlin'. You trying to steal from me just got you a one-way ticket to a shakedown."

Accented words, smooth and deliberate, force you to look up and you wince in place at the horrific sight which blocked out the sky above as your would-be captor loomed over you.

Reddened skin, pocked and marked by radiation, with a gaping hole where the nose should have been gazed back down at you - marred features twisted into vague amusement as the skilled hunter took in your shocked expression.

A ghoul.

"Let me go." You croak out, throat feeling red and raw - a natural feeling given that it had now been over twelve hours since you'd had any water. "Let me up!" You cry, kicking out at the dirt.

"Not going to happen." The ghoul answers back without pause, his body shifting around so that he was standing tactfully to the side of your kicking legs. "Not even if you ask nicely, which you didn't."

"I didn't know it belonged to anyone." You try to say but the words burn and die out as a vicious cough wracks your upper body. The last week had been rough. A run in with raiders had robbed you of your latest haul and that included the meagre amounts of water that you had been able to gather in this vast, dusted part of the wasteland.

Watching you cough with a blank expression, the ghouls fingers disappear into his ratty coat as he pulls free a small, metallic flask from one of the inner pockets.

"Ain't listening to that shit."

Dropping to his haunches, his free hand grips your chin roughly, calloused fingers giving you no room to move as he carefully tilts the mouth of the flask between your lips. Fear spiralling in your chest as your breath comes in shallow pants, you purse your lips tight as you attempt to avoid whatever the hell he was trying to slip you. It's for nothing though as he forces you mouth open enough to allow some liquid to slip through.

Water.

Unable to help yourself, you gasp in shock, and instinct overtakes sense as you greedily sip down the few thankful gulps that you can. It soothes in an instant. The warm, slightly stale water may as well be liquid gold as it coats your throat, banishing away the drought which had lay before it.

Eyes watering as you choke a little on the liquid, the hand on your chin elevates your mouth enough to ensure that everything goes where it should before the flask is pulled away with a clinical precision.

"There." The ghoul grunts, his brow narrowed into a mild scowl as he observes you with a passive look. "Want to try that again, croaky."

"Didn't-didn't know it was yours. The water." You explain, meeting his eyes with your own. "I only needed a little bit. Haven't had any in-"

You cut yourself off, anxiety making you want to ramble but knowing that such a thing was stupid as hell when outside the safety of a group. Or even when around someone you didn’t have full trust in.

He takes your words for what they are as he stands to his full height once more.

"You're a pretty little thing to be out here all alone. This part of the desert isn't meant for pretty little things.” He grunts, hands on his hips. “There’s people out here that’ll do things to you that’d make your skin crawl right off if you knew.”

And he was right.

The sun beat down harshly during the day, making any menial task seem twice as difficult as scavenging became a race against overheating as much as it did the dangers which lurked around every corner. The nights were not much better as roving gangs sought to take everything they could from anything they found, living or dead.

The lucky ones would be killed and the unlucky would face the same fate.

Eventually.

Speaking of luck, the fact that your captor hadn't immediately caved your skull with a rock or used that gun to decorate the dust with your blood was something to be exploited.

"I'm sorry.” You offer up, palms flat in a show of non-aggression. “Let me up and we can talk about a trade for some of that water."

In a lawless land, bartering was king, and you prided yourself on your ability to talk yourself into getting what you needed. Raiders. Ghouls. Lunatics. Everyone wanted something, and your mental inventory of your stash flashed through your mind as your eyes trailed across your captor, seeking out some possible options which he may be interested in.

Covered mostly by dark leather, a bullet holster sits across his chest, looping over his shoulder and visibly containing several bullets which were no doubt comfortable in that gun of his. His leather coat is worn and frayed, the edges looking rough as hell and caked in dust and grime. What visible skin lay open to the slowly darkening sun was as red and mottled as the rest, the flesh of a ghoul impossible to hide or shy away from.

The eyes though.

His eyes appeared to be a hazel colour, the whites of his irises seeming even more stark due to the red skin surrounding them, but what caught your attention was how expressive they were. Sunken in their sockets, the darkness which encased them did little to hide their revelations. Even now, as he stared you down with an intensity equal to your own, you could see the appraisal of curiosity and interest which lurked behind the vague, mean-spirited amusement he fixed you with.

Taking a seat on the water canister, his gun remaining in hand as it casually hung from his fingers, he allowed you to pull the rope from your legs and right yourself until you were standing once more. His other hand remained on the opposite end of the rope, ready to lash out like a viper at a moment’s provocation.

"Water's rare round these parts.” The ghoul grumbled. “I don't want to be wasting it on needless shit. So why don't we see if we can come to some arrangement?"

The golden words.

Smirking at the potential of a deal, the fear which tickles at your chest disappears in a brief moment as you rock onto your heels and place your hands on your hips.

"I don't have anything with me today. I'll need to go and gath-"

"You've got them pretty lips." He countered, cutting off your words and widening his knees as he patted his thigh with the butt of his gun. "I'm sure you can think of something to do with them."

Shocked by the utter brazenness, your mouth drops open and you splutter out something incomprehensible as a low chuckle slips free of his twisted lips.

"Don't look so shocked. Oldest barternin' tool in the business. Ten minutes of work and you might live to see another day. Five minutes if you're a pro.” He grunts again. “Fuck, it's been so long, it might even be two. Take the chance, darling?"

"I'm not a whore." A harsh denial as heat spread across your cheeks.

You had seen them before, both the unwilling and the willing, as they walked alongside raiders and heroes alike in an effort to use their skills to ensure survival. Everyone did what they had to do and it wasn’t like you hadn’t used charm before to get what you wanted.

But still.

This was different.

In a way-

"Didn't say you were." The ghoul shrugs, interrupting your mental debate. "But a deal’s a deal. Ain't got no infection that I know of and it's the best offer you'll get out here. Closest raiders to here are the McSharkies and they’ll have you fucking their dogs for a single droplet.”

Shuddering at the thought, your lips move of their own accord.

"Okay."

Surprising yourself even as you say the word, a trickle of shame weaves itself down your spine.

You had done a hell of a lot worse for a hell of a lot less in this shithole of a world.

What was a quick blowjob in the scheme of things.

Visibly pleased at your agreement, he palms his cock through his slacks for a moment before jumping to his feet in a smooth motion which catches you off-guard.

"Turn and get those hands out behind your back."

"Why?"

"Got to tie your hands, little lady. You might be sweet, but a pretty snake is still rattlin’ full of venom. You understand me?"

Unable to argue as a sense that you might as well play his game since you had no other choice plucks at your thoughts, you nod your consent and slowly shuffle around.

Turning in place, he loops the ends of the rope around your wrists in quick movements, quietly ensuring his own safety as he pins your hands behind your back and spins you around to face him once more.

"Kneel." He commands, clicking his fingers and pointing to the ground as he commands you like a dog.

You drop to your knees before him and the harsh desert feels uncomfortable against your skin through the fabric of your jumpsuit. Even in the rapidly cooling air of the approaching evening, not a soul to be made out as far as the eye could see, heat danced along your skin as a dirty shame made your shiver and roll your shoulders.

You had seen his kind before, knew what to expect, but even prior knowledge couldn't prepare you for just how thick he was as he snatched his cock free of his slacks - the pinstripe design fluttering in the breeze as he unlatched the waistband. His cock jutted from his slacks with pride, its girth making you bite at your lower lip as you wonder how the hell you're going to fit that in your mouth.

As livid in colour as the rest of him, his cockhead was slightly darker as it flared from the end of his length, and there was a prominent vein which ran along the underside of the shaft.

Despite yourself, your mouth watered at the prospect of tasting it.

Unable to wrap either of your hands around his cock, you dip your head forward to catch the tip of his cockhead within your lips. Immediately you feel the heat of him, his textured skin feeling odd against your tongue as a slightly acrid taste floods your mouth. He's heavy and thick, even just the tip of his cock making your mouth feel full and you carefully breathe around him as your tongue presses against his shaft.

“It’s been a long time, sweetie. That or you're a born cocksucker.”

A heavy hand pressing on the back of your head draws a sharp gasp from your lips as he pushes you down further on his cock. Forced into accepting more of him, you hollow your cheeks and allow him to guide himself roughly within your mouth, every part of his mottled skin adding a new sensation to your lips as they roll across his length.

Sucking him gently, something traitorous and arousing sparks in your cunt as he unleashes a low grunt at the stimulation.

At the vicious arousal in his tone, you feel a fresh flood of lust slither across your skin even as you groan out an unspoken denial of his words around his cock. However, you attempt to free yourself of him in a moment of surprise as his fingers drop low enough to cup around your temple, essentially keeping you in place as his other hand tightens almost painfully around your hair.

He's building pace, allowing enough time for you to catch your breath as you focus on the task - your own hands remaining pinned behind your back as you bob your head messily.

"Yeah. Fuck your mouth on my cock, little miss." He grunts, hand like a vice around your head as he casually thrusts himself into your mouth with only a little mercy. "Show me how much you want it."

Keeping your eyes staunchly closed, shame and humiliation creep along your heated skin but with it comes an undeniable arousal which makes your cunt feel wet against your panties.

"None of that. Eyes open now."

Displeased with the lack of eye-contact, his cock pulls free of your mouth long enough for his hand to strike across your cheek. Not in an overly aggressive or painful manner, but enough to force your eyes open as you glare up at him.

"Ooh, feisty little mare. I like it. Makes me hard as a nail."

To emphasise his words, he drives his cock a little further back, the tip now just threatening your throat as you choke in surprise - eyes watering in an instant as you fight the urge to bite down. You watch him as he chuckles, enjoying the way your throat is spasming around you cock as he holds you there.

He lets up after a moment, resuming his more forceful pace. Wanting him to finish, you pull back enough to swirl your tongue along the sensitive ridge where his shaft meets his cockhead before swallowing him down in one quick motion.

It's enough, and the sharp, pleasurable pants which slip free of his mouth seem to increase slightly in pitch as he pulls his cock free of your mouth. Without warning, his release splashes across your mouth and chin; a few errant drops falling between your lips as he jerks his cock off to wring every last droplet out.

Pissed by the mess despite the slight ache which sits in your cunt as it feels woefully neglected, you growl at him - a scowl marring your forehead as your jaw clicks, the bone there pleased to no longer be under such stress. Left in the dirt with your hands bound and you face coated in mess, a fresh sense of heated embarrassment floods your cheeks and you cough in discomfort as he tucks his softening cock away.

You inhale sharply as you find your body being pulled away from his as his strong hands remove you from your kneeling position and place you back on your feet.

"Made a mess of you there, darling." The ghoul smirks, teeth flashing against his reddened skin. "Make sure and clean yourself up before anyone else sees you. They might get the wrong idea."

Rubbing your hands together as he releases then from their bindings, you immediately wipe off his release with the back of your hand and ignore the taste of him as the droplets in your mouth coat your tongue.

"My water?" You ask, dusting your knees off as you mentally make a note to treat your clit to some attention the minute you were back in the safety of your hideout. Attention that no doubt would feature hazel eyes and some very irritated movements as you took your frustrations out on your traitorous sex.

"Sure. Deal's a deal, little miss. Name's Cooper, by the way." He, Cooper, grunted as he slowly filled one of the spare empty bottles which littered the ground around the canister. "You can call me Cooper."

Huh.

Watching silently as he continued to live up to his end of the bargain, you tasted his name against your lips as eagerly as his cum you consider what he might give to hear you cry it out with some well-earned enthusiasm.

"Cooper."

His eyes meet you own and you can tell, in that moment, that he's imagining the very same.

[guiltyasdave]

delicate

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~3.9k

summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself

a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.

You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance. 

He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips. 

He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you. 

“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did. 

You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words. 

“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away. 

The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you. 

But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids. 

A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again. 

Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room. 

You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?” 

You grin at him over the rim of your cup, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him. 

“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water. 

His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him. 

You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year. 

He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand. 

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much. 

He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body. 

“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry. 

You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number. 

“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd. 

You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man. 

You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand. 

He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you. 

He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him. 

He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again. 

He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last. 

It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is. 

Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest. 

You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.

Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.

He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher. 

You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens. 

“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle. 

“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being. 

Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now. 

He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips. 

“You alright, princess?” 

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him. 

His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher. 

“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body. 

He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you. 

You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him. 

“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him. 

The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin. 

“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body. 

“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you. 

His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat. 

He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste. 

“Tastes so sweet, princess.”

Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length. 

You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you. 

He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky. 

“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head. 

Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak. 

You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more. 

You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin. 

You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh. 

You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…” 

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?” 

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head. 

“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp. 

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips. 

“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion. 

Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more. 

“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you. 

He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile. 

You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.

You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed. 

You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.

You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep. 

“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours. 

When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.

“I think I really like you.” 

You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.

“Is– is it okay that I said that?” 

He hums, his large hand still on your cheek. 

“I think I really like you too.”

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

[multifandomme]

Arcadia

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu x Female Reader

Summary: When you think about Alcina, you just can't help yourself... but you soon discover that her self-control is as flimsy as your own.

Genre: Smut, (masturbation, oral sex, size kink, fingering, power dynamics, praise kink, hair-pulling), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 2.4k.

This piece is for day 17 of kinktober under the ‘oral sex’ prompt.

A/N: This is an edited version of a fic I wrote in 2021. And the second fic I ever posted to ao3.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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Silence descended upon the castle and brought with it an eerie ambience that seemed to persist. It was not often that such a luxury was afforded, the sound of shrill laughter and abrupt flurries of flies never too far away. The lasting dregs of evening remained suspended over the village, darkness soon to steal the glimpses of amber sky into its possession. The call of slumber fell on deaf ears, loneliness slowly beginning to infiltrate as you stared blankly out of the window, eclipsed by the thick drapes that framed it.

A beautiful portrait of Lady Dimitrescu hung in the centre of the room, eyes of liquid gold peering down from the wall as if she was studying you. She was the only solace, your mind plagued with fantasies which always led you back to her. It was a dangerous game, the rumours that flitted around only reiterating the way evil was allegedly so entwined with her.

But you couldn’t understand it.

She seemed to blur the line between fear and excitement, so muddled within you that you were unsure where one feeling ended and the other began. Adrenaline had become your lifeblood, a single glance in the Lady’s direction weakening you at the knees and causing your heart to rattle violently within your chest. You smiled wistfully in the knowledge that your infatuation was futile and in any case, the woman had larger affairs occupying her time.

You were insignificant, disposable.

Lady Dimitrescu’s voice echoed through the corridors, heavy footfalls following suit until they halted. Despite the mitigation of the walls that were enclosed around you, the mere sound of her voice seemed to trigger your furor. Your eyes flickered over to regard the portrait again, your teeth gnawing lightly against your lip as you dared to trail your fingers across your chest.

Goosebumps rose upon your skin, protruding from below the surface as you brushed gently over your nipples and roused them into sensitivity. The Lady’s orbs bored down from above as you sighed blissfully, wishing that your arousal was a product of her hands rather than your own. From within the confinements of your room, you could hear her voice falling in and out of clarity as you envisioned her beside you, lips pressed against your ear and whispering filth into them. It was all that you could think about, the only thing pacifying the insatiable urges that festered within you.

Encompassing desperation was only a hair’s breadth away, your fingers masterfully tweaking and pinching at the stiffened buds until pain incurred as a result. Your libido blossomed hastily beneath your touch, hands involuntarily manoeuvring towards your underwear until your fingers slithered below the fabric. A stifled gasp exuded from you, mindful as not to alert the woman who was unknowingly causing the depraved acts that you had undertaken.

Wetness collected against your fingers as you dragged them through the slick, circling over your clit until your hips to bucked wildly. Self-control dissipated the moment you believed you had it under control, your breath hitching. Every so often you would push two fingers inside of you, deeply as they aimed for places you could only dream of the Lady exploring. For now, imagining was all that you had and you would make the most of it. The idea of getting caught only added to the thrill that seemed to claim you and take you under.

Glassy orbs remained fixated on the portrait before you, short breaths blowing away louder moans that threatened to escape you. The Lady’s face was solidly imprinted in your brain, dragging you to the edge as you battled to stay quiet. The heavy footsteps that you had heard earlier suddenly grew louder, closer, but did nothing to hinder you from the task at hand.

The threshold had long been surpassed, teetering on the edge of an orgasm that you wanted and needed so badly. You slowed abruptly, torturing yourself as you danced on the brink, desperate to be filled but denying yourself that very pleasure.

Ragged breaths filled the room as you fought to prolong the bliss, hoping that the woman would put you out of your misery and debase you in every way imaginable. Your pussy clenched at its own accord as you entertained the very thought in your head, her long fingers slamming in and out of you until you begged her to stop.

You aligned your fingers once more, the suspense too much to bear as you stuffed them in to the hilt, obscene noises methodically sounding as you settled upon a steady rhythm. The pleasure that claimed you seemed to render you mindless, so much so that you had failed to notice the proximities in which the footsteps had now arrived at. And without a second to catch your breath or shroud your indecency, the door flew open and the Lady ducked into the room, eyes flaring as they landed upon you.

You froze in place, a catatonic state engulfing you as you stared back at her.

“Oh, my,” the Lady drawled, rouged lips curling upwards into a smirk. “It appears as though I have been gravely misled.”

You blinked, confusion arising in response to her strange reaction.

“You’re not the innocent that I had predicted, sweet maiden,” she commented, an air of surprise about her as she regarded your lust-stricken appearance with what appeared to be fascination.

Lady Dimitrescu brushed a slender finger against the mattress as though she was jostling with the urge to reach out and touch you. And then she ceased, departing from the bed side with her gaze ablaze, never straying from you.

“What could have caused this?” She queried, a defined eyebrow quirked towards you as she awaited a reply.

The shock derived of the situation kept you stilled, soundless as your mouth widened only for the words to fail you. Instead, your eyes lifted to the portrait in the hopes that the woman would understand the unspoken admission that you were attempting to reveal. At first, the Lady seemed perplexed to say the least, until she followed your ceaseless glare and hummed interestedly. Silently, she traversed over to the portrait and ran her fingers languidly over the golden frame that bordered it.

“My sweet, innocent maiden was thinking about me?”

The Lady was painfully patronising, a smug smile materialising from her crimson-painted lips as she inspected the picture as if she was trying to uncover a hidden meaning that had eluded her.

“Yes, my Lady,” you admitted, shyly as you grabbed ahold of the bedsheets in order to veil your exposed body from view.

The woman intervened quickly, hands prying the sheets from your grasp as she shook her head in avid disapproval.

“Oh, no,” she tutted, her lips lightly pursed, “I want to see exactly what I have done to you.”

A blush burned itself into your cheeks as you averted your gaze, humiliation beginning to make itself known. The Lady ignored the blatant flustering that she had induced and moved to perch atop the bed, gentle hands slowly exploring the skin of your thighs.

She wasted no time, her sights firmly set on the apex, digits dancing through the arousal that had accumulated. A fresh intrigue lingered within her celestial orbs, no words exchanged as she took her time in inspecting you, rubbing the residual liquid between her index finger and thumb as though she was confirming its existence.

Lips found their way between your teeth, clamping harshly as you tried desperately to prevent your body from thrashing due to the oversensitivity that had incurred. And without a second thought, she raised her long fingers to her mouth and sucked heartily as if she wanted to savour every last remnant drop. The seduction that oozed from her did nothing to stymie your appetite as it reignited, a fire blazing inside of you.

“Just as sweet as I anticipated,” she noted, huskily, her tongue laving her bottom lip with saliva.

The mere act had your thighs tensing back up once more, that same throbbing feeling from earlier returning with an unrivalled intensity.

“As much as I’d love to play into your fantasy,” she began, her voice low and sultry. “I have a few of my own.”

A manicured finger pointed towards you and then to the floor, the unsaid command hanging in the air as you climbed out of the bed and situated yourself between her legs.

“What can I do for you, my Lady?” You questioned, meekly, your skin ablaze in the knowledge that the woman was allowing you to play a part in whatever this was.

The Lady smiled, a little burst of breath huffing out from her nose as she observed your subservience, knees securely pressed against the cold flooring beneath as you awaited instruction. Her hand outstretched towards you, fingers cinching softly around your chin as she forced you to meet her eye line.

“You’ve had practice,” she remarked, though the lilt in her voice seemed to imply that it had been a masked question.

“No, my Lady,” you rebutted with a stifled giggle, “but I’d like to.”

The woman beamed as though impressed, her hands gathering the material of her magnolia gown until she had it confined to one fist. Her free hand fell to secure itself atop the crown of your head as she willed you forwards, your nose mere inches from the black underwear that had been newly exposed.

“Such an eager little thing, aren’t you?”

Before you had the chance to respond, she forcefully dragged your face to meet her underwear, your nose brushing along the length of the black material. Despite the woman’s blatant impatience, you pulled back, wanting to cherish the moment and admire her in her entirety.

Gentle fingers ghosted the pale skin of her legs, observing tentatively as she shuddered almost undetectably below your touch. Your lips finally made contact with her inner thigh, daring to bite and suck, her legs jolting every so often. Her self-control had been surprising, coolness prevailing as you continued your vehement attempt to leave it in shreds.

Purpling bruises adorned the Lady’s ashen skin, soft as her thighs enclosed around your head almost involuntarily. It was clear that despite her earnest efforts to hold off, her natural responses had begun to betray her. Cunningly, you brushed your thumb across the length of her underwear and though sound was stifled lightly from your positioning, you swore you heard a gasp escape her.

Her hand reached down and grappled with your head, nails grazing your scalp with brute force as her patience thinned to the point of nonexistence. You were mesmerised, intent on exposing what lay beneath that thin layer of material, a slight patch of arousal visible through the black lingerie if you stared deliberately enough. It spurred you on to no end, your mouth introducing its languid ministrations, suckling painstakingly over her clothed clit as you felt her buck slightly against you.

“That’s it, darling, yes,” she encouraged, breathily, her fingers combing aimlessly through your silky tresses as she urged you on, “don’t you dare stop.”

Courageously, you yanked her underwear to the side, too consumed by the reactions you were procuring from the woman. The opportunity was too good to pass up as you drew more arousal from her with every touch you applied. Her flesh glistened, your eyes half-lidded as you became intoxicated by the scene so close in front of you. Briefly, you gazed upwards, hoping to meet her eyes and when you did, hers glared back in what seemed like frustration, desperation.

You took her clit into her mouth, toying softly with it as you pressed your tongue against it and smoothed it with saliva. Her taste was unlike anything, unable to draw yourself away once you had her on your tastebuds, your tongue slipping further inside of her. The previous combing of her fingers through your hair ebbed out abruptly, replaced with a ruthless force that educed a wince from you in response. And just when her legs began to tremor, you entered her with two probing fingers, aiming for deeper territories.

“Good girl,” she groaned, shamelessly, her voice causing an intensified pulsating sensation to persist between your legs, your heartbeat pounding without rest.

Every jerk and shiver pointed in the direction of an orgasm, her hands clutching you so forcefully in place that you couldn’t forsake her even if you had wanted to. Your fingers worked overtime, pounding zealously as her moans rang out into the room and emptied your mind of any coherent thoughts. Her pleasure was all-encompassing. She ground herself against your mouth and fingers with reckless abandon, no concern thrown towards your wellbeing as she used you. And truthfully, you were enjoying every single moment spent serving her.

Her arousal slivered out of its confinements, painting itself across your chin and mouth as you fought to maintain the rhythm that you had enlisted. Oxygen was hard to secure, a lightheadedness whipping up and only thrilling you further as her flesh pressed tightly up against you.

“You’re doing so well for me, darling,” she complimented, shakily as the pleasure clouded her, her movements more abrupt and desperate. “I’m so- uh, so close.”

The warning had you throwing every last modicum of effort into the task at hand, your fingers gradually feeling the pinch of her inner walls around you. And soon, they were spasming with vigour as she came undone with a thunderous moan that seemed to shake the room.

“My sweet maiden,” she panted as she attempted to regain control over her breathing, “you have surprised me.”

On your knees, you stared up at her, awe-struck by her post-coital appearance. As usual, she was enchanting, but there was something more, something different. Without a hesitation, she rose to her feet and sauntered towards the far wall, her hands reaching out to pluck your beloved portrait from it.

“No, My Lady!"

“Settle yourself,” she instructed, firmly, the picture dangling from her hand, so small in comparison to her enormity. “I’m going to replace it with something a little more, realistic.”

With furrowed brows, you regarded her with confusion, your interest piqued nonetheless.

“And what might that be, My Lady?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

The Lady strutted over sexily, hips swaying as she leaned down to address you. Her hand cupped your face, a distinct gentleness radiating as her eyes seemed to soften all of a sudden. A long exhale exited from her lips, a smile forming in the corners until it spread across her features.

“Well…” she drawled, suspense rising as your heart began to quicken, surprised to find the Lady repositioning herself beside you in bed. “Me.”

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[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 013 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. modern royal au. infidelity. slight angst. toxic characters & toxic relationships. 18+. smut (nothing explicit.) unedited. suggestive. fluff. alcohol consumption.

notes. feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3 ALSO!! i am very bad at describing places (i tried my best) but just so you guys can visualize things better, i included photos of where this chapter took place at the end of the fic

wc. 12.1k

series masterlist 

[ THIRTEEN ] it hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you. i’ve done the math, there’s no solution. we’ll never last – why can’t i let go of this?

“Rin,” you stopped his hands from going any further, your fingers closed around his. He paid you no mind as he merely flicks your hands away. The top three buttons of your blouse have already been popped open, the white lace of your bra visible to his eyes. They visibly darkened with lust. Grasping his hand again, you held him tighter this time around, preventing him from exposing you to him. “Rin, please. Stop.”

Rintaro finally stopped. His fingers froze in the air, his thumb caressing the button like he’s fighting back an itch to completely rip your blouse apart. Maybe on another day, you would’ve found his hunger to be flattering. But not here, not in the middle of nowhere, and definitely not when he smelled like smoke. Not when he smelled like all the horrible things he’d gotten from her.

Cocking his brow, he leant back at the hood of his car. He stared up at you, his pretty eyes narrowed into slits.

“What? You don’t want me to touch you?”

You vehemently shook your head no. You awaited it – some sort of angry response from him. It wasn’t often you rejected his advances, but it was written crystal clear on your face: he made you uncomfortable. He found it sickening, how you looked at him like he was some vermin.

“Fine,” he spat out, rounding the vehicle as he opens his door. “Get in the car.”

“But… I can’t just leave–”

“I’ll have someone take care of it. Get. In. The. Car.”

You glance back at your car. Kuroo’s cellphone was still inside, along with your gun engraved with your family crest. If anyone were to peek inside, it wouldn’t be far to assume that you were out to kill someone. Not to mention, it was your private vehicle, not the Palace’s issued ones. Quickly, you raise a finger to Rintaro and ask him to wait, running back to your car before slipping the phone inside your pockets. In less than a minute, you’d opened the passenger’s seat and buckled the seatbelt.

The silence was painful.

There’s nothing but the smooth hum of the car’s engine, the rhythmic tapping of Rintaro’s hand against the wheel. He didn’t bother turning the radio on, and you were too lost staring at the trees whizzing by to strike up a conversation. There were too many things to ask, too many answers that demanded your attention, and so little time for it all. You wanted him to break the silence first, until sleep beat you to it. With the clock reading half an hour past four, you found yourself nodding off, shaken awake by the constant road bumps ahead.

Six am.

You straightened your back. The scenery had shifted from the dense forestry. Beside you, Rintaro looked half-awake, cracking his neck from side to side.

You watched as the gentle fingers of dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold. With the car travelling along the coastal road, you glanced sideways, captivated by the mesmerizing vista unfolding before your eyes. You’d seen the sea before, but never at this time – never when the sun was beginning to stretch its arms as if to embrace it. The sea, that of liquid sapphire, shimmered under the first light of day, each tiny, soft wave crested with a translucent luminescence – something both haunting and mysterious that made it hard to look away. It was deep and bewitching, like it would whisper to you the secrets of the deep if you looked close enough.

Rolling the windows down, you gazed at the horizon – right where the ocean kissed the sky, and birthed with it the symphony of color. Pastels of pink and lavender blended into a cerulean blue. The sun, a radiant gem emerging from its slumber, cast a golden path across the water and shimmered across the ripples, inviting the soul to wander its glittering trail. You felt the need to reach out to it – to skirt your fingers across the horizon, wondering if somehow the sea could drown you in its beauty and your pain could be forgotten.

As the car cruised along, your eyes remained transfixed on the sea. Drawn to its endless, vast rhythmic dance of a push and pull. The waves rolled in a timeless cadence, their gentle roar a comforting lullaby. Each surge and retreat of the water mirrored your own steady breaths – in and out – a silent meditation that made you feel as if everything was almost okay.

Through the open window, the scent of salt and the crispness of morning air filtered through. It filled the car with the essence of the sea, masking the scent of Rintaro’s stumped cigarette. For a moment, you were filled with a profound sense of peace. A moment of stillness amid the journey. The sea, with its infinite expanse and eternal ebb, seemed to hold all the answers. It wasn’t like Itachiyama whose beauty brought calmness to your soul and silenced all your fears. It was entirely a beauty of itself, one that haunted you and prodded at your bones, picking your soul apart and gently sewing back them together.

Like an unstoppable force, like watching a car crash into another – it was hard to take your eyes off of it.

“Where are you taking me?” you broke the silence after a while, choosing to keep the windows rolled down. Beside you, Rintaro spared you a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Nodding, you propped your chin onto your arm. Now that you were awake, the events from the past few hours finally caught up to you. The meeting with Kuroo, Atsumu’s sex tape, being chased by Rintaro, and your call not reaching Kiyoomi – Kiyoomi. Gods. He must be so worried. But your phone’s battery died long ago, and there was a bigger matter at hand – Rintaro’s accusation, and the way he’d hid his hurt with a smirk.

It was a side of him you’d never seen before.

Sure, he’d been angry when you did anything that concerned Iris, or when you left for Itachiyama after his displeasure about it. But this time, he looked more hurt than angry, as if he couldn’t believe you would go so far.

You rolled the windows up. The sounds of the humming of the car and the breeze slipping through muted.

“Rin,” you mumbled, toying with your fingers in your lap. “I didn’t try to kill you, you know.”

Your husband snorted. “Oh, you didn’t? Could’ve fooled me. It’s not every day you see your wife’s new maid slipping something in my drink, but if you truly did not have anything to do with it, then I guess it’s safe to assume your maid is out to assassinate me,” grip tightening on the wheel, he forced himself to exhale through his nose. “Do you deny this?”

“Airi has nothing to do with this.”

“Do enlighten me, then, because I don’t know what to think of you anymore,” he gritted his teeth, and you were shocked into silence. It was quite the confession coming from him. “I have made mistakes. Many of them. I have hurt you, again and again, but do you really wish to end my life?” he shot you a look, only to turn his head away – staring out into the sea before you. You wondered if it’s because he couldn’t stand to look at you, or he didn’t want you to see whatever might show in his face.

“I didn’t think you could be so cruel, Princess.”

Your face fell, the light in your eyes dimming as his words sunk in. “I told her to crush some sleeping pills in your tea so I could sneak out without you noticing. I wasn’t trying to ‘kill’ you.”

“And where would you go without me? A lady like you should never leave the castle premises unsupervised,” he reminded, the edges of his lips curling into a dissatisfied smile. “Unless you don’t want me knowing who it is you’re meeting.”

Sighing, you let your head drop to your hands. “Enough with the accusations, Rin. How many times do I have to tell you I have never cheated on you?” you rolled your eyes at him, your arms crossed to your chest, irked. “If you really must know, I met up with Kuroo Tetsurou – yes, the man who wrote that article about your tryst and ruined your reputation. You know what I did? I paid him to disappear from this country, and to completely erase any traces of what he’d written. I did it for you. I did it because I no longer want to see you suffering from the hands of another, so don’t you dare go around treating me like I’m your enemy, because at the end of it all, I’m the only one on your side. Do you understand?”

It was a half lie, but a white lie in your defense. The end would justify the means. Rintaro didn’t have to know the whole truth, not when there was a chance he’d ruin your plans. He only needed to let his guard down, to completely trust you on this because that last part you would not lie about.

He could hurt you – take your heart and crush it until there was nothing left. But it would not change the fact that you were his wife, and he your husband. It wouldn’t change the fact you were bound by vows you’d spoken in front of Her Majesty, in front of the Gods they worshipped in a sacred chapel. You would never, and could never, go as far as to make Rintaro detestable in the eyes of others. He was yours to hate and love. No one else could take that right away from you. He simply wasn’t for the world to pick apart.

Silence clouds the car. With a quick glance, you saw his grip loosening on the steering wheel, his shoulders visibly relaxing as his brows pinched together. “You did that… for me?”

You scoffed. “You have no idea the things I would do for you.”

“Then why keep it a secret from me? I would’ve gone with you. I could’ve sorted it out myself.”

“You couldn’t. You’ve barely been touching any of your work ever since the scandal happened,” you pointed out, holding your hand up to flash him your ring – the one you never dared took off, not even in the shower, and especially not when Kiyoomi had been nudging his way into your heart. “I’m your wife. I promised to share the burden of the crown with you. If a time comes that you’re unable to handle the troubles coming your way, then I will step in and do it for you.”

Rintaro blinked rapidly, as if clearing away the images that troubled him. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, “I’m just… You said you hated me, and that you regretted marrying me. So when I saw Airi mess with my tea, I immediately thought you wanted me out of your life.”

You looked out the window. Pursing your lips, you couldn’t help but think to yourself – if only it were that easy.

“You’re my husband. I would be devastated if you died.”

Rintaro drove around for a few more minutes before finally arriving in a gated community. Although community was a stretch, considering there were no other houses around. Not a single person could be seen. The entire beach was closed off from that point on. He wouldn’t answer any of your questions either, simply smiling to himself as he drove past a grove of trees until you broke through – the sounds of the waves audible and muted, as if they were from a distance. Before you stood a large white mansion, hidden by the tall trees, but peeking just enough to be highlighted by the golden dawn.

“We’re here,” Rintaro announced, bouncing out of his seat to run around your side and open the door for you. You couldn’t help but snicker at his sudden chivalry. Nevertheless, you slipped your hand into his, following him as he led you to the pebbled walkway leading up into the house. “I bought this beach for us.”

“Rin, you can’t do that. The beaches should be open to the public.”

Rintaro squeezed your hand. There was a lightness to his step, almost as if he was floating through air – or maybe your reassurance had simply made his body feel lighter. “Indulge me a little, wife. Let me show you around first, and if you really don’t like it… then I’ll put it up for sale, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with that. It was hard to, anyway, when he struggled to open the doors as he refused to let go of your hand. After fumbling for the keys, he finally got them in and pushed the doors open.

You could see much from where you stood. At the break of dawn, the sun’s first golden rays began to dance across the tranquil surface of the sea, casting a gentle, shimmering glow that greeted the grand beach house with a tender embrace.

The luxurious abode, with its elegant arches and expensive terraces, stood proudly against the backdrop of the awakening sky. Its hues of pink and orange melded seamlessly into the lingering blue of the night. Your eyes widened, watching as the colors bounced off the water and reflected back onto the sturdy white pillars of the house’s exterior. The soft, ambient light illuminated its exquisite architecture, revealing intricate details and the soft contours of its stone façade.

Stepping onto the grounds for the first time, you let your hands run through the textures of the pillars, feeling its smoothened out surface. 

The house, a vision of opulence and warmth, beckoned you with its ethereal allure. Each window and glass wall, strategically placed, welcomed the sunrise with open arms, allowing the light to flood the interior spaces with a radiant glow. The reflections danced upon the surface of the pristine pool outside, playful patterns dancing along the walls and the ceiling. It made the entire house seem alive with its morning gentle touch.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat – stunned by the beauty of it all.

You moved towards the edge of the expansive backyard, where the manicured lawn stretched out like a verdant carpet leading directly to the soft sands of the secluded beach. The sound of the waves, a soothing melody, called out to you. It mingled with the rustling leaves of the palms that framed the house. The air, crisp and salty, invigorated your senses and filled you with a sense of profound peace and connection.

Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro was drunk on your expressions. He lit up each time you smiled at a corner, his heart blooming and swelling he felt it would burst out of his chest. For one of the few times in his life, he felt proud of himself.

“I bought this mansion a year after I started courting you,” he said, his gaze transfixed on the way your hands were still intertwined. It caused him to trail after you like a lost puppy; not that he minded. He just liked being here with you. With that thought in mind, he absentmindedly caressed your wedding ring with the pads of his thumb. “I didn’t have concrete plans in mind yet, but I knew I would end up marrying you someday, and the Palace didn’t seem like a good place for us to enjoy our married life. But here… we can live separately from the rules imposed on us. Here, we are not Princess or Prince. It could just be the two of us.”

You bit your lip, your heart hesitant. It fluttered at the sincerity of his words, swooned at the revelation he’d been planning this for years. You could imagine it – Rintaro walking through this property a year into your courtship, the young Prince nodding to himself because he just knew this place would be yours.

“It’s still mostly empty, of course. I didn’t want to decorate it without asking for your opinions, and I figured maybe you’d want to take the lead in that area,” he encouraged with a smile.

And really, who could say no to that? When he gave you such a beautiful house and handed you the reigns to do as you pleased, then you would turn this house into something you could call your home.

Every detail of the beach house was meticulously designed for both grandeur and intimacy. The spacious terraces offered the perfect setting for private dinners and joyful gatherings with family and friends, promising countless evenings of laughter and love under the starlit sky. You could already envision long, leisurely breakfasts on the balcony, the sea’s gentle murmur a constant, comforting presence.

You would sip your morning coffee in your nightgown, reading the newspaper, or letting your eyes close as you let the sea breeze gently wake you up from the remnants of your slumber. Behind you, your husband would sneak up in nothing but his sleep shirt, his voice deep and croaky with sleep laced to it. He would wrap his arms around your waist, coo good morning in your ears as he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

It was the perfect house to live the married life in.

The moment is too beautiful that it let the walls you’d put up slowly crumble. It gave way for your mind to entertain the thought of hope, of second chances, of a life where Rintaro apologized for everything he did and you forgave him for it. A life where he finally left Iris behind, and moved in here with you – being a loving husband and wife like he’d promised.

Regardless of his mistakes, you couldn’t deny he chose this haven with care.

He understood your yearning for a sanctuary that felt both majestic and personal. You could see his vision in every corner of the house – in the way the morning light filled the rooms, in the carefully carved openness that invited the outside world to become part of your home, and in the promise of countless memories waiting to be made within its walls.

“It’ll get very bright here in a few minutes,” he murmured, his voice echoing through the spacious expanse. “I know you hate dark places, so I wanted something that had a lot of room for sunlight.”

You hummed. “That was thoughtful of you.”

“I only had you in mind when I was looking for our place.”

Tugging at your hand, you let Rintaro drag you upstairs and show you around. “This is our bedroom,” he gestured, and you stepped inside, glancing back at him and down at your intertwined hands in a silent query. Rintaro smiled, nodding as he gently let go of your hand to let you look around the room.

Taking small, careful steps away from him, you let your eyes take in the sight before you. The room was a sanctuary of tranquility, bathed in the soft, warm hues of the rising sun. The bed, dressed in crisp white linens with accents of deep red, invited you to sink into its comfort. Candles flickered softly on a low, modern nightstand, casting a gentle, ambient glow that complemented the natural light streaming through the expansive glass wall.

The true masterpiece, however, was the view.

The entire far wall of the room was made of glass, offering an unobstructed vista of the ocean beyond. Palm trees gently swayed in the morning breeze, framing the horizon perfectly.

You moved closer to the glass, your heart swelling with awe and contentment. Outside, on the spacious terrace, two elegant lounge chairs awaited, promising peaceful mornings and serene evenings spent with the one you loved. The lush greenery surrounding the room blended seamlessly with the view, making it feel as though you lived in harmony with nature.

“Want to see the best part?”

You giggled. “You mean to tell me something could get better than this?”

“Of course. You know I’m only choosing the best for you.”

Leading you into another room at the end of the hall, Rintaro smirked – proud and barely holding back his excitement as he swung the door open. As you stepped inside, a gasp of pure delight escaped your lips – followed by bubbling laughter in disbelief.

The morning sun streamed through the grand, arched windows, casting a warm, golden light that danced sprightly across the room. The room seemed almost enchanted, a perfect blend of nature and comfort, invite you to lose yourself in your own world and let the time pass you by.

Towering bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with volumes of all kinds, promising endless hours of exploration and discovery. The rich, earthy scent of aged paper and polished wood filled the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. A graceful spiral staircase wound its way up to a second level, where more books awaited, their spines gleaming in the soft light.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the cozy seating area, where a plush of sofa beckoned you to sink into its depths and get lost in a story. The soft, muted colors of the cushions and throws added a touch of warmth, making the space feel lived-in and inviting. A quaint reading lamp stood nearby, ready to cast its gentle glow over late night reading sessions. Behind you, you could hear Rintaro move through the room as well – gently picking up knick-knacks placed along the way.

“–And here is your reading corner, or… whatever you’d like it to be really. If you want to crochet, or paint with Tobio, you can use this room.”

“I thought you said this place was empty,” you joked, gazing up at the myriad of books displayed.

“Yes, it is,” smiling to himself, he leant against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest, content to let you indulge yourself by exploring. “But I made sure to fill this place up first, as I figured this would be the room you’d spent the most time in. I went ahead and collected all the books I know you liked, along with other things I thought you would enjoy.”

There it was again – the thumping of your heart over his words.

It was too easy to get carried away, especially when Rintaro was being unnecessarily sweet. It almost felt as if… nothing was wrong at all. And for a moment – just for now – you let yourself forget everything and focused on the present. With your heart tucked and hidden away for safety under your sleeve, you pointedly averted your gaze from your husband. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him like that – content, unguarded, with hooded eyes watching you tenderly. Like he was in love with you, and he meant it when he said he wanted no one else to spend his future with.

You turned your attentions back to the room, the lush greenery that adorned the space, with ferns and potted plants that brought a taste of the outside world in.

You could already imagine yourself curled up on the sofa with a book, the sounds of the waves gently crashing in the background, or perhaps sitting by the window on a rainy day – the patter of raindrops providing a soothing soundtrack to your literary adventures.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell in adoration, even as you tried so hard to fight against it.

The Prince had carefully curated this heaven for you. He’d ensured you could have a space where you would spend countless mornings in, a cup of tea in hand, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Afternoons would be spent exploring the vast worlds in the many books that lined the shelves, each one a new journey waiting to be embarked upon.

This reading room was more than just a space; it was an escape from the world. A place where you could retreat and recharge, surrounded by the things you loved most. As you stood there, bathed in the soft morning light, you were bombarded by a mix of emotions – an internal debate whether to feel elated or depressed.

How could someone know you so well, and still hurt you in the process? Love truly was a dangerous thing.

However, you pushed that thought out of your mind. You did not want any arguments tainting this space, this home. Rintaro’s efforts didn’t deserve to be shattered, either. You would save it for another time. For now, you would explore every inch and corner of this house. “And here’s the backyard – plenty of space for our future kids to play in. I’m thinking twins, one boy and one girl, and then we’ll stop trying for another. Two little devils should be enough. The boy needs to be the eldest though, so he can protect his little Princess,” his eyes lit up, and you can see it already.

Rintaro must’ve seen it, too – the scene of your children running around, chasing other. Your little boy would be screaming at the top of his lungs, your little girl blowing bubbles as her hair bounced around her cute little face with each tiny step she took. If she ever tripped, her brother would immediately be there for her. He’d cradle her soft cheeks in his equally small hands, wiping her tears away and telling her it’d be okay. And then they would run to their parents for comfort – Rintaro would bring them into his arms, pressing kisses to their foreheads before he brought them back to their mama. Then, you’d pull out the first-aid kit, plastering band-aids on every scraped knee and kissing all the boo-boos away.

It was a beautiful thing to imagine. Letting your kids grow up in a beautiful place, with a loving father who would stop at nothing to ensure their happiness, building a family.

It put a smile to your face. “You do know I can’t control who comes out first, right?”

“Yes, but a man could dream,” he shrugged and faced your way, his eyes softening as he scanned your face. You didn’t know why Rintaro looked so beautiful in that moment. The picture perfect image of a Prince Charming, his hazel eyes seeing things you couldn’t, his smile hesitant yet hopeful. “I hope our little girl looks like you. She’d be very pretty just like her Mom.”

Heat rushed at the nape of your neck. It was a flood of emotions all at once – flustered, flattered, frustrated.

You immediately pointed your body in a different direction. Sliding the glass doors aside, you kicked off your heels and sunk your feet into the grass. It was a much needed reprieve after walking and driving for hours with those darned heels. Soon enough, you could hear Rintaro trailing behind you – a quick, curious glance letting you know he’d picked up your heels, your shoes dangling on his crooked fingers.

“Can we have a dog?”

“We could have a dog,” he grinned, and then gestured for you to come follow him. Feet sinking into the sand, your hands found solace in his bicep. Rintaro practically puffs up with male pride the moment your nails sunk into his skin. It was silly, enough to make you roll your eyes, but you kept on walking and walking – the sounds of sand crunching beneath your feet and the delicious warmth emanating from your husband a great way to start the morning. Eventually, you’d made it to the front of the house, where the crystalline pool stood just before the sea announced its presence.

“And in the beachfront, well, we could do pretty much anything. Barbecue, invite friends over for dinner. Oh, and there’s a wine cellar in the basement. I think I had that filled up, too. Do you want to have a quick drink before we go?” Shaking your head at him, Rintaro nods, gnawing at his lip before he decides – fuck it – and finally lets his hand rest on top of yours.

The position was oddly intimate. You weren’t embracing each other, yet you’d never been so close to him before. Your sides pressed against one another, your hand curled onto his arm, with his large, veiny hands caressing yours. It’s a little too perfect, and it makes you just a little too in love. Unable to help it, and drunk in the serenity of it all, you let your head fall back to his shoulder. Eyes closed, breaths shallow – your heartbeat in sync with his.

Thump, thump, thump. The schwaa of the waves. The whoosh of the wind.

It was like heaven on earth.

Above you, Rintaro cleared his throat. “So? What do you think? Is it to your liking? If it isn’t, I could always look for a different house–”

“It’s beautiful, Rin. Thank you.”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you told him, opening your eyes to smile up at him, your cheek still smooshed against his broad shoulders. “It’d be a perfect home for us.”

“O-Okay,” he blushed, averting his gaze from you as he stared at the sea instead. The motion made you chuckle. It wasn’t always Rintaro could be such a flustered, affected man, but you adored the rare times when he was. Just then, an idea popped up in your head and you grinned, tapping his shoulder with your nails.

“Hey. Why don’t we have a little housewarming party to make it feel more like home?”

“We can?”

“We can do whatever we want, Rin,” you reminded him, and then scrunched your nose as you thought of the whole process. Furniture shopping, talking with interior designers, adding your personal touch, bringing in some of your most important things to this beach house that was literally miles away from the Palace. “–Although decorating it would take a lot of time and you must be busy–”

Rintaro’s eyes widened in panic. “I’m not busy. Well, I am, but I’ll make time. Let’s – Let’s decorate. I want to turn this into our home, too.”

You squeezed his bicep, warmth flooding your senses.

As you wandered through the house, your heart swelled with love and gratitude. The beach house wasn’t just a place to live in; it was a dream woven into reality. A testament to the life you would build together. Standing there, bathed in the tender embrace of the sunrise, you felt an unbreakable bond to this place, knowing that it would be the backdrop to your love story – however complicated it may be – a place where you both would grow, laugh, and find solace in each other for the years to come.

For the next few months following your arrival, you and Rintaro dedicated yourselves to transforming the beach house into a true home. It was a long, arduous process – infusing every corner with your touch, and Rintaro with his love for knick-knacks. Countless mornings were spent wandering through local markets, hand in hand, searching for pieces that spoke to you – the future you would create.

It was a great opportunity to fool the media, too, a silent declaration to the world that your marriage would not be swayed by petty rumors.

Well, they were not just rumors, but the Queen seemed ardently pleased by the amassed support.

Rintaro, suddenly the considerate partner and doting husband, would often pause to hold up a delicate vase or an intricately carved wooden sculpture, his eyes seeking your approval. You, in turn, would smile and nod, trusting his impeccable taste and loving the way he always seemed to know what would make your heart sing.

It was as if he knew what you’d like before you even said it out loud. Maybe it was because he’d spent two years of his life courting you that he now knew you like the back of his hand.

Whatever it was, the media ate it up. The article regarding his cheating scandal eventually became nothing but measly gossip. You remained in contact with Kuroo, however, his article about Iris only waiting to drop at your signal.

It should’ve been released months ago. You could’ve ruined her already, snatched your husband back right under her nose – you just couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not when she’d been pointedly avoiding Rintaro, and your husband was acting like he forgot she existed. Could it be both of them couldn’t handle the criticism, after all? Did they care more about their reputations and image than their ‘passionate love affair’?

But then again, neither of them wanted to be exposed for their trysts.

It was all Atsumu’s doing.

And that actress – poor Hiroda Yuki – still remained oblivious to the sex tape you hid under your closet. A secret you would bury there forever, a secret you’d take with you to your grave. You hadn’t heard news of her getting knocked up, and her career was still soaring. For now, you had nothing to worry about. It seemed peaceful – for now.

In the meantime, you dedicated your afternoons in the arrangement and rearrangement of everything you’ve collected – snow globes from your trips overseas with your parents, Rintaro’s random collection of weapons and key chains from his own adventures. The living room, with its expansive glass walls and view of the endless ocean, became a canvas for you to experiment with. There were no rules here.

You placed a soft, oversized rug in the center, its deep blues and greens echoing the colors of the sea. Comfortable chairs and sofas were positioned to invite conversation and relaxation, while vibrant cushions and throws added splashes of color and warmth. You insisted on color, ensuring that the beach house had to be vibrant and thrumming with life. You refused to let it be like the Palace – dull yet overwhelming with all its arching marble statues and golden chandeliers.

And then the dining area, envisioned as the heart of your home, where family and friends would gather, received special attention. You chose a large, rustic wooden table, its surface polished to a warm glow. Around it, you placed mismatched chairs (which greatly bothered Kiyoomi when you sent him photos), but you told him that each had its own story and character. The space was an organized mess, eclectic yet coherent. Above the table, Rintaro hung a chandelier of delicate glass orbs that cast a soft, magical light during evening meals.

The master bedroom was a different tale itself. It was the room you and Rintaro spent the most time on. You established several rules before proceeding, drilling it into his head that:

Rule no. 1: He was not allowed to bring any women inside. (He scoffed at it, offended, but agreed anyway.)

Rule no. 2: Lavender essential oils were the only scents allowed. Vanilla scents were forbidden. (He didn’t understand why you were so vehemently against it, but again – whatever makes the wife happy, was what he said. That alone made you question… did he not know what Iris smelled like? He knew all your favorite perfumes by heart, yet could not recognize the distinctness of vanilla? You quickly dropped the subject.)

And finally, Rule no. 3: No arguments inside the bedroom.

(Rintaro was barely able to hide his shock at you suggesting it. His eyes widened for a moment, an expression he quickly schooled into that of nonchalance. “Of course,” he’d said, “Any conversation that may require a debate will always be had outside. Never here.” To which you replied, “Never here, Rintaro. This is our space. We will not be enemies here.)

There it was, the master bedroom, a sanctuary of tranquility and intimacy. Soft, sheer curtains were chosen to filter the morning light. The bed was adorned with luxurious linens and a variety of textured pillows, making it a perfect retreat after long days spent exploring the island or entertaining the guests you would have over.

Personal touches, like framed photographs of your wedding, and the candid ones he’d taken of you each time he called for you in the Yuzuru Estate, were placed on the nightstands.

All that was left was to invite his brothers over for the housewarming party.

You and Rintaro decided to keep it a secret for now. After all, it wasn’t every day that the brothers all gathered together for dinner outside the Palace. You debated inviting the Queen over, too, but after that recent fiasco and her snide remarks about your mother, you were heavily against it. Rintaro, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. He just wanted to spend time with his brothers – saying they’ve never done that before. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for them to rekindle their brotherhood.

It sounded like an absurd idea at first, you admitted. You didn’t have to go so far to help your husband get along with his own brothers, but whether you liked it or not, you were married – and marriage often came with demanding responsibilities.

Of course, there was still the issue of Iris: would she be invited or not?

You gauged it for the first few weeks. Waiting, listening, and watching with a careful eye on how Rintaro would be acting. You’d also piloted the agenda, peering over it like a hawk to see if he would sneak in a thing or two. Or maybe he had a room for her. But – much to your surprise – there was none. There were exactly nine guest rooms; one for each brother and their wife, and one for the Queen or your parents, whoever wanted to visit.

Still, it made you turn your nose upwards.

You didn’t fancy the thought of Kiyoomi sharing a room with Iris. In fact, the image of them sharing the same bed was enough to make your stomach turn upside down. But knowing Kiyoomi? He’d probably make her sleep on the floor than be anywhere near her.

Finally, after some finishing touches, you both sent out the invitations.

The housewarming party was an intimate, private event. It was challenging at first – their schedules did not align with each other, and Prince Wakatoshi was not warming up to the idea. However, his son, Wakashi, badly wanted to see the sea. That was all it took before he’d agreed, and soon, even the busybody Shinsuke accepted the invitation – with the promise Airi could also come.

Pride bloomed in your chest. It seemed like an impossible feat at the beginning, gathering all the Princes into one place. But they’re all here now – Keiji was reading books to Wakashi, Tobio is playing beach volleyball with Tooru, Rintaro, and Atsumu. Osamu declined his brothers’ invitation as soon as he caught sight of your kitchen, pushing past his blond-haired twin and declaring that your kitchen was now his. You all laughed about it, and Osamu hasn’t left since.

Wakatoshi was there in your living room, cuddled up on the couch with his wife, Camilla. They both snoozed in peace, lulled by the Princes’ distant shouts and yells from their game. Behind them, Shinsuke crouched over the paperwork he’d brought with him, Airi happily gazing at her Prince as she wiped glasses and silverware.

Kiyoomi and Iris, for some reason, did not participate in any of the activities. The Second Prince has worn a stormy expression the moment he parked his car, his wife in tow. Iris didn’t look great either – her face pale and lips chapped.

You made a mental note to ask him about it later. For now, you would enjoy yourself.

Stepping out of the living room, you walked past the pool and to the beach. The Princes were still playing on a 2v2, Tobio and Tooru on one team, Rintaro and Atsumu on the other. As you got there, your sundress puffing up from the wind, you noticed Maiko was already on one of the lawn chairs – smiling fondly at her husband who scored once more.

You followed her gaze. Now that was a sight, indeed. All the Princes were shirtless – their muscles rippling with each jump or aggressive spike of the ball. They’d already been tanned after playing under the sun for hours, their healthy golden glow illuminated by the setting sun. Rintaro himself had you struggling to look away. Wearing sun shades, a black compression arm sleeve, and his shorts hanging low on his hips – it suddenly felt hot despite the breeze.

Shaking your head to yourself, you tore your gaze away from him and sat next to the Princess. “Maiko,” you greeted, handing her a watermelon juice.

“Your Highness!” she beamed, gladly accepting the drink and playing with the umbrella before she continued, “Thank you for having us over.”

“It was my pleasure,” Smiling, you watched her closely, not missing the way her cheeks flamed each time Tooru scored and he looked her way. The movement was subtle, barely noticeable from another’s eye, but it was clear in that moment it meant the world to Maiko. Beside you, the Princess hid her giddy smile behind her drink, her bare toes curling into the sand beneath you. “So. You and Tooru seem to have gotten along more.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that,” she scrunched her nose, “He was really worried for you, you know. He wouldn’t stop telling me how he was going to beat the Crown Prince up. And when that article went out…”

“We’ve moved past that.”

“You have?” she perked up, “I mean, that’s good. Have you forgiven him?”

You took another sip of your drink, and then snorted. “Of course not. But I think we’re at this point in our marriage where we’re pretending to be happily married, and it’s hard for me to not play my part,” when Maiko titled her head to the side, confused, you gestured to the grand abode behind you. “He’s bought me this house, helped me decorate it. We spent many nights talking about how we’d like it to be, and now we’re all here. His brothers, their wives – everyone is laughing and having fun. How could I ruin it by dwelling on the past?”

Maiko didn’t look entirely convinced. You couldn’t blame her – you weren’t very convinced yourself.

Things were going a little too smoothly for your liking. Until now, you still had your doubts that everything was suddenly okay, that Rintaro and Iris have suddenly decided to end their relationship. But you’d asked around, bribed the maids in Belleview Manor, and they all said the same thing.

Rintaro and Iris have not spoken to each other ever since your return.

It felt as if Rintaro had been sincere when he said he only slept with her because he felt lonely with you. A pathetic excuse, of course, something only an imbecile would fall for. But you’d long accepted that Rintaro was an oddity and complexity of itself.

The only way to truly understand him was to let him show all versions of himself, both the good and the bad, before you could see which one of him you could love the most.

And this Rintaro?

The loyal, caring husband who’d given you this home? The one who wouldn’t stop stealing kisses even when no one was looking? The one who proved to you that the master bedroom upstairs indeed had very soft, luxurious beds by fucking you in it all the way until the morning?

You liked that Rintaro very much.

“I’m always here for you,” Maiko said after a moment, her smile genuine as she gazed upon the secluded area. “The house is beautiful, by the way. I can see why you looked so happy ever since the Crown Prince showed this place to you.”

“It’s our home. It was the best thing he could’ve given me.”

Saying it loud felt like an accomplishment. Your mother had always told you that you would be great at managing your own house someday. It felt surreal to see with your own eyes that she’d been right.

“To be honest, I never expected I would have moments like this,” quipped Maiko, her smile wavering as she plucked out the cocktail umbrella. “Before I married Tooru, it was lonely in the Rai Estate. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father married the next woman who presented herself to him. Sometimes I think he did that because he wanted me to grow up with a mother, but my stepmother was never fond of me. It was a lonely childhood, I must admit,” she confessed with a sarcastic chuckle, lifting her head to stare at her husband. “But then Prince Tooru came along. The Queen started bringing him along whenever she visited my father, and the Prince and I would always have playdates. I remember I would cry each time they had to return to the Palace.”

You tipped your head to the side, curious. ���The Queen brought Tooru to the Rai Estate?”

Maiko nodded. “Yes. You didn’t know? Her Majesty is my godmother,” she informed, absentmindedly spinning the ring on her finger. “She was close friends with my father, and they remained in contact even when she married the King. I’d say she was the closest I ever got to having a mother figure, but Her Majesty is too busy to waste her time looking after a little girl.”

“I see,” you murmured, and reached over to clasp her bare shoulder with a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry about your mother, Maiko. I hadn’t known she’d already passed.”

“It’s alright, not a lot of people mourned her death anyway. And people easily forgot she existed because my father remarried very soon,” she shrugged, a forlorn look crossing her sharp features. “My father said I don’t look like her. Sometimes, I think that fact made it easier for him to move on, because he never saw her in me.”

“Did your father love her?”

“Probably not. You know how marriages between nobles are; I wouldn’t be surprised if it was arranged. He never talked about her either, so I wouldn’t know.”

You hummed to yourself, “Does the Queen still visit Lord Rai?”

“Not lately, no. She got occupied handling the Kingdom’s affairs when His Majesty passed away, but they still send each other letters during birthdays. I’m not sure the Queen has written back to my father in a while, though,” as quickly as she said it, Maiko’s back straightened, her free hands waving frantically in the air. “Oh, I hope this doesn’t change the way you see me, Princess. I promise the Queen does not hold any special favors to me.”

“Not at all, Maiko. You’re still the same Princess in my eyes.”

“TAKE THAT!”

Both of your heads snapped in the Princes’ direction. Tobio, pumping his arms in the air as Atsumu tugged at his blond locks from the other side of the net. Tooru was running around – or more like bouncing – while your husband was down on one knee, panting heavily with sweat dripping down his chest.

Before you could process what was going on, Tooru bolted for Maiko’s direction, whooping and hollering as he picked her up and twirled her. Maiko’s squeal was lodged in her chest upon Tooru’s crushing hug. He kept spinning her, enough to have Maiko wobbly on her feet when he finally put her down, holding her at an arm’s length away as he exclaimed, “Did you see that? Rintaro couldn’t receive my serve!”

“It was just a lucky serve!” defended your husband.

“Yeah, right.”

Rintaro turned to you, his ears turning red as he stood up and dusted the sand of his abs. “It was a lucky serve.”

You put your hand up to your mouth, concealing your laughter. “I’m sure it was.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the horizon, the air buzzed with excitement and the scent of blooming flowers from the garden. The sound of waves crashing softly in the background added a serene rhythm to the lively conversations that flowed as effortlessly as the wine. The brothers, their bond evident in their playful banter and shared stories, mingled around the spacious terrace, their laughter mingling with the music that floated through the air.

You eventually left Maiko, seeing as the Princes did not have any plans on stopping their game anytime soon. You didn’t want to rush them into dinner either, not when Rintaro looked like he was having the time of his life.

Dusting sand off your dress, you took yours and Maiko’s empty glasses back inside. Airi and Osamu were still in the kitchen; the former smiling at you when you handed her the glasses, while Osamu remained elbow-deep in some dough. You left them soon to their devices, heading out of the kitchen when you nearly bumped into a firm chest.

“Hey.”

“Kiyoomi,” you blinked up at him, joy radiating from every pore now that he was here. Kiyoomi looked handsome in just his cream, short-sleeved linen shirt, his curls tousled and falling beautifully to frame his face. Until now, you were still beguiled by his striking beauty. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I heard you’d been occupied with some things in Itachiyama.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, and I would never decline an invitation from you,” he said softly, dipping his head so you could hear him better. His close proximity set your heart racing, and before you noticed it, you had your dress balled into your fists. “You did a great job with the place. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” you breathed out, voice light and airy as you gestured outside. “Are you not going to join your brothers in their game?”

Kiyoomi shook his head, a mischievous smirk gracing his handsome features. “If I did, then Rintaro’s team would lose.”

“Oh, are you a better player than him?”

“I’m better than him in all aspects,” he declared, offhandedly gesturing to their brother on the couch.  “Though I could never hit as hard as Wakatoshi. You should’ve seen him in his prime – he was a monster as long as he had the ball in his hands.”

“I didn’t know you played volleyball, too.”

“We used to play a lot when we were younger. Before duties called.”

You nodded, silently escorting him out of the kitchen. You could already feel Airi’s gaze burning holes at the back of your head. “How is Iris, by the way? I don’t think I’ve seen her around.”

“She said she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s been holed up in bed ever since,” informed Kiyoomi, scratching his cheek in thought. “Did she have a fight with Rin?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think… it’s because Rintaro is ignoring her, and she might be upset about that,” wrinkling your nose, you raised both hands in the air as a form of surrender. “But let’s not talk about unpleasant things. How was your trip to Itachiyama? And Kanami! How is she? I didn’t get to properly say goodbye to her last time.”

Kiyoomi’s lip twitched with amusement. “She’s fine, just a little mad that I took you home without informing her beforehand. She really wanted to spend more time with you.”

I didn’t want to leave either, you almost told him, biting back your tongue at the last moment.

Finding yourself alone with the older Prince, the air thickened with unspoken tension. A palpable static seemed to crackle between you two. Every glance exchanged was laden with unvoiced words, and every accidental touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. He stood close to you, his presence comforting and warm, yet an invisible barrier held you apart – neither brave enough to bridge the gap.

Your heart raced as you felt the weight of his presence beside you, the magnetic pull urging you closer. The silence was almost deafening – filled with the potential of what could be said, yet the fear of breaking it kept you mute.

Finally, Kiyoomi, with a nervous swallow and a shy, almost boyish smile, broke the silence.

“How was the meeting with Kuroo?” he began, his voice soft but trembling with the same tension you felt.

You told him everything without a detail to spare. Your words were hushed, voice barely above a whisper in case anyone accidentally walked in on you. Kiyoomi nodded as he took everything in, the tension on his shoulders increasing. “I see. Has he contacted you ever since?”

“The last message I got from him was from a few days ago. He says he’s got everything he needs – he’s just waiting for the green light.”

“So we’re just waiting for him to drop the bomb.”

“Practically, yes,” you agreed, when an idea formed in your head. Clapping your hands together, you tugged at Kiyoomi’s sleeve. “Actually, could you come with me? I wanted to show you something.”

Kiyoomi wasn’t able to say his response before you’re dragging him upstairs. You already knew the house like the back of your hand, confident you could navigate through it even with your eyes closed. Once you’d reached your destination, you swung the doors open – arms outstretched to show it off. “This is my reading corner, a library of sorts. And here–” you led him to a wall you’d intentionally kept empty, “–is your corner.”

“My corner?”

“Yes, you know, like how everyone has their own space in your library back at the farmhouse.”

“That’s a family house. This is your house with your husband.”

“Rintaro bought it because he wanted to have a safe space with his family, and you’re his brother. That makes you my family too, doesn’t it?”

Your smile was warm, sincere and elated upon presenting him his ‘corner.’ Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you for not noticing the fleeting hurt in his eyes, his disappointment quickly masked with a practiced, cordial nod.

“Family. Right,” he echoed, “I’ll make sure to add my own things someday here. Thank you.”

“FUCK YEAH!” roared Atsumu from below. All too quickly, the moment is broken. You and Kiyoomi stepped away from each other, both releasing a breath you didn’t noticed you held.

“I should go–”

“Of course,” Kiyoomi agreed, his nods a tad too hurried. He’s looking at everywhere but you now. “I’ll follow in a bit.”

You were hesitant to leave. It’d felt like forever since you’d last spoken to Kiyoomi. Ever since that night your call did not push through when Rintaro chased after you, Kiyoomi had been restless. He’d text you every morning and night, without fail, to reassure himself you did not come to harm. He was sweet – undeniably so – and it felt like a waste. Everything did. You couldn’t spend time with him, or speak to him freely like you did in Itachiyama anymore. Here, in Inarizaki, the cameras devoured everything you and Rintaro did.

It came without question you’d unknowingly distanced yourself from the Second Prince.

With a heart heavy of doubt, you exited the room. The last you saw of Kiyoomi was him slouched over his corner, his eyes closed and his head resting on his arm.

You skipped down the stairs, careful of the ankle-length of your sundress. The living room was already a mess when you got there – Atsumu was shaking Wakatoshi awake by the shoulders, screaming that he’d won against ‘stupid Tooru.’ Tooru, on the other hand, was being comforted by his wife, a pout permanent on his face.

“Hey,” an arm wrapped itself around your waist. Tensing, you quickly smiled when you saw it was just Rintaro – now dressed in a plain white button-up, the top three buttons left open to cool himself.

“Hey back.”

“Why didn’t you watch me play?”

You almost laughed at him. It was a comical sight – your tall husband slouching and pouting like a kicked puppy. Shaking your head at him, you let him pull you into an embrace, his arms engulfing you completely. You’re wholly warm like this, his head on top of yours, your cheek on his warm chest that’s still slightly damp with sweat.

“We have guests over, Rin. I have to make sure everyone’s settled.”

“But I played good,” he whines above you, his head dipping to playfully nibble at your ear. Rintaro crushes you in the embrace, your bodies pressed close enough that the growing tent in his trousers poked you through your sundress. Breath hitching, your tilted your neck to give him more access – warily looking out for onlookers. Thankfully, his brothers were all occupied with searching for snacks.

“I’m not inviting my brothers over next time. They take up too much of your attention.”

“Don’t be weird,” you teased, “I’m all yours tonight.”

Tipping your chin to look him in the eye, Rintaro presses a tender kiss at the insides of your wrist. “All mine for a lifetime, hopefully.”

“We’re married. I don’t think we have much of a choice in that aspect.”

When Rintaro smiled, his whole face lit up, his teeth flashing wickedly. Squeezing your waist, his eyes took in the warm, golden lights of your house. The bustling noise his brothers made, and the aroma of dinner being prepared. “We really outdid ourselves, huh. This place turned out better than I expected.”

You patted his firm stomach. “Should we all celebrate with some dinner?”

Nodding, Rintaro pressed a kiss to your forehead before disappearing in the kitchen. Atsumu followed not long after, complaining that ‘Samu was taking ‘too darned long’ preparing his food. You can’t help the smile making its way into your face. Rintaro was right; you really outdid yourselves. The night was a success – everyone was happy, and it finally felt like everything was normal.

“Nee-chan,” Tobio appeared before you, a towel wrapped around his neck. His grin is bright, cheeks flushed from the game and still breathing heavily. “Thank you for the party. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun before.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Tobio,” you beamed at him, watching from behind him as Wakatoshi shook his head at all the noise his brothers made – not missing the way his lips curled just the slightest when his son joined in on the joyous atmosphere.

“You should teach me how to play volleyball someday.”

“Of course!” Tobio said, a little eagerly. Just then, his eyes dimmed, his smile wavering as he approached you, a hand cupped at the sides of his mouth. “But sis… are you sure you’re okay with Rintaro? He seems oddly clingy to you today. If he bothers you, let me know, okay? I’ll beat him up. I’ll ask Shinsuke-nii to help me too–”

“Calm down. No one’s getting beaten up today. Let’s just enjoy dinner, alright?”

Tobio sulked, his shoulders closing in together with a frown. However, all that disappeared when Osamu and Airi appeared with dinner. Within minutes, all of you were situated in the long table. Everyone dug in, a mumbled ‘thanks’ and a quick prayer led by Wakatoshi.

Beside you, Rintaro squeezed your thigh before standing up. The scraping of his chair alerted everyone – multiple pairs of heads turning your way as he raised a glass.

“I wanted to make a toast – to thank everyone for coming despite their busy schedules. This home – our home – means the world to me, and there’s no one else but family who I’d rather share this moment with. I want to thank my wife, too, for bringing light into my life,” he gestured your way, causing a bout of sniggers coming from Atsumu. You rolled your eyes and decided to ignore him. “Also, I am very happy to announce that the scandal has been officially cleared. The writer of that article has left the country, and the media is no longer attacking me. I am officially an honorable man again.”

“To honor?” Osamu raised his wine with a snort, and everyone glared at him. “Oh, my bad, I thought that’s what we were toasting for.”

“Osamu,” warned Shinsuke.

“To good memories,” you announced, followed by a chorus of echoes, “And to family.” Pointing your drink in Kiyoomi’s way, the Prince raised his drink, his small smile hidden behind the glass.

“To family.”

As twilight deepened into night, the garden lights twinkled like stars, and the gathering moved inside to the cozy warmth of the living room. Stories and laughter continued late into the evening, the house filled with the comforting sounds of family and the promise of many more cherished moments to come.

It was a night of celebration, not just of a new home, but of the bonds that made it a true haven—a place where love, laughter, and the warmth of family would forever reside.

It was a moment you would cherish while it lasted.

Everyone headed straight for the wine cellar after dinner.

It caused a ruckus – half of the Princes were passed out drunk in their rooms, while the rest stayed up playing Mario Kart. It had been Tobio’s idea, and with Rintaro eagerly joining in, it soon turned into the competitive bout it was now. Whoever lost would skinny dip in the pool without turning the heater on.

You shook your head at their antics.

You cleaned up after everyone, Maiko and Camilla apologizing that they wanted to tend to their drunk husbands and couldn’t help. You quickly waved them away, unbothered. If anything, you appreciated how the noise slowly dissipated – leaving you alone with Kiyoomi who’d volunteered to help clean up. The silence is comfortable as you maneuvered around the dining room.

“Your Highness!” exclaimed Airi, wiping her hands on her apron as she rushed to you both. “Please, leave that behind, I’ll take care of it!”

As gently as you could, you snatched back the wet rug from her hands. “Airi, darling, you can go ahead and rest. I’ll take over here.”

“Oh but Princess, I could never! I’ll clean everything up–”

Kiyoomi smiled at her. “It’s okay, Airi. I’m sure Shinsuke’s been dying to talk to you, too,” Airi flushed red, causing the Prince to rumble in laughter beside you. “Go. We’ll handle this.”

“T-Thank you.”

Airi dashed upstairs, sending you both one last grateful glance before disappearing.

Guilt washed over you at the sight of her. Airi and Kita seemed to be happy together, but you knew the harsh reality that the chances of them working out were low. Not only was she a maid, but she had completely nothing to her name – no family, no college degree, and had a mouth that required dire control. At least here in the privacy of your home, they would receive no criticism, but as soon as you all returned home to the Palace… you sighed.

You couldn’t tell whether you were comforted at the thought you were not the only one suffering when it came to love.

You’re elbow deep in the sink washing the dishes, Kiyoomi at your side silently wiping the plates, when you remembered an empty seat at the table. “Iris didn’t come down for dinner. Should I bring her some leftovers?”

Kiyoomi grumbled, uninterested. “I’m sure she’ll come around once she’s hungry, and that should be soon. She’s had a mad appetite lately.”

Speaking of the devil, a light tap came from the countertops. You whipped your head at the soft, lilting voice. Iris stood a few feet away from you, a basket covered with red cloth held in front of her stomach. She looked sheepish; her brown hair falling down her in graceful waves, but her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d been crying the entire time.

You snuck a glance at Kiyoomi, questioning, but he merely shrugged, turning his back to her and resuming with his task.

“Your Highness. May I speak with you?” her eyes darted to her husband’s figure, shifting from foot to foot. “Alone?”

“Of course. Excuse me for a moment,” bowing to Kiyoomi, you quickly washed your hands and followed Iris. She led you past the living room and out to the pools. The Princes’ shouts and banters became nothing but background noise. There, Iris situated herself in the picnic table under the willow tree, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

She nudged the basket your way, lifting the red cloth to reveal… pastries? “I baked these cookies for you this morning before we left the Palace. Please, have some. Consider it my peace offering.”

You fell silent. Mouth opening and closing as you searched for the right words, you settled for a forced smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Iris gnawed on her lip, and dragged her chair closer to you. Much to your surprise, her hands landed on your knee, her big, green eyes pleading. “Listen, Princess, I know we got off on the wrong footing, and I really want to put that behind us and start new.”

“Uh,” you blinked back, “O-Okay?”

“I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I didn’t mean for Rintaro’s lies to drag on and go this far, and if you must know, I never supported him on his plan–”

“Why?” you didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh. But it did, and you tilted your head to the side, oddly calm as you asked, “Why don’t you support him? Don’t you want to be his?”

Iris’ bravado faltered for a minute.

“I-I did at one point. It gets tiring having to hide your relationship, you know? But his plans seemed too absurd to me, and it sounded impossible that he could achieve it.”

“Do you think he’s not fit to be King?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied,” you reiterated, scanning her face for answers – for the truth – when realization dawned on you. Leaning back, you flicked her hands away from your lap, lips curling in distaste. “You look down on him, Iris. You don’t think he’s a capable Prince at all.”

Iris clenched her jaw in an attempt to bite back a retort. “He has his many great qualities, but sometimes the Crown Prince loses touch of what is real and what is not,” she said, her placid tone betraying the fire burning in her eyes. “This is why I’m hoping we can be friends and start anew, Princess. I’m letting you know I’m breaking up with Rin. In fact, we have not been talking as of lately–”

“You fucked him in my bed lately. Do you really expect I would believe you?”

Her gaze was ice cold as it cut to you. “That was months ago, and he was the one who brought me there.”

“Let’s say he did. But who’s to say you did not seduce him beforehand?”

“He said his room felt lonely without you there, and he brought me for company. Don’t you realize, Princess? Your husband longs for you more than you know.”

Unable to help it, you chortled out a laugh. “What, are you saying he loves me?”

“He might,” she gritted her teeth, “But he needs to get over me first. That’s why I’m letting him go – you’re a kind person and you don’t deserve to be treated as second best. I’m putting my heart aside so you can finally enjoy your marriage.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re doing this for me? How very benevolent of you, Princess.”

“It’s really not that hard to believe I want you to be happy.”

You shook your head, refusing to believe it was this easy. “Why the sudden change of heart? Is it because you couldn’t handle being called a slut by everyone?”

“I am not a slut, nor am I a homewrecker. He loved me first, don’t you forget that,” she spat out, her words laced with poison. It had you narrowing your eyes at her, and the Princess cowered for a moment, dropping her gaze down her lap as she stumbled over what to say next. “But the truth is… I never loved him. Or if I did, it wasn’t to the point where I would throw away my marriage to him. I want stability, Your Highness, and my union with Kiyoomi provided me that. Stability, security, and power – I have it all. There’s nothing more I could possibly want.”

“Then why were you sleeping with my husband?”

Iris shut her eyes, her hands balled into fists at her lap. “Because my husband wasn’t around. He avoided me like the plague during the early stages of our marriage, and the Palace is too big a place for someone like me. I’m human, too. I got lonely. You cannot blame me for seeking out the warmth of another. He wasn’t yours during those times, so you can’t put this over our heads again and again.”

“You were using him,” you stated, shooting up from your seat. Kiyoomi had told you about it. Hell, even Maiko had an inkling their relationship was nothing but exploitative on Iris’ part, but hearing it coming from her – hearing how she used your husband like he was a mere toy or puppet for her to play with as she pleases… your blood boiled.

“You knew Rintaro was in love with you, and you took advantage of that. How could you?”

“Because he was there when no one else was.”

You stood rigidly, trying to quell the storm brewing within you. Fixing your gaze on the horizon, you avoided Iris’s eyes, afraid that even a fleeting glance would betray the torrent of emotions you fought to contain. Each breath was a deliberate effort to maintain your composure, your mind a battlefield of unspoken accusations and restrained fury.

Despite the turmoil, you held yourself with regal poise.

“I think I’m going to have a drink,” you decided, sending one last forced smile her way. “Care for some?”

Color drained from the Princess’ face. “No, I-I’m laying off the drinks for a while. I’ve never been a drinker anyway.”

You watched Iris from the corner of your eye, noting how she subtly used her arms to hug her stomach, her movements slow and deliberate. Since arriving at the beach house, Iris had looked unusually pale and sickly, her vitality drained. She kept her distance from Rintaro, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by everyone.

A wild thought flickered through your mind – could Iris be pregnant?

You quickly dismissed the idea, shaking your head, but the possibility lingered – filling you with a growing sense of dread. The realization settled in her chest like a heavy stone, the implications threating to unravel the fragile ‘peace’ between you all.

“Hmm.” You dug your nails to your palm, licking your lips as you tried to still your beating heart. “I think I’ll head to bed soon. Good night, Iris.”

“Princess,” Iris called out from where she sat, her beautiful face crestfallen and desperate. “Have you forgiven me? Can we be friends?”

“I’ll think about it.”

You headed back inside the house, your breathing growing shallower with each step you took. Faintly, you heard Rintaro’s concerned voice calling after you. You paid him no mind, taking two steps at a time as you pushed open the door to their shared bedroom.

Kiyoomi was already inside, in the middle of taking off his wristwatch when you came bustling in. Your name fell on his lips. You ignored him, too, heading for the bed with crumpled sheets from where Iris must’ve slept. You threw the pillows on the ground, the blankets balled and discarded to the side, as you looked for something – searched for answers. Her belongings all came crashing to the ground as you picked it apart one by one, hauling her suitcase from the drawer before kicking it to the floor.

“Princess,” Kiyoomi sounded worried, his hands coming up to reach for you when you slapped it away. Concern flashed over his face, more so when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”

“She’s hiding something. I know it.”

It didn’t take much effort to open her suitcase. Clothes, shoes, her makeup bag – you emptied it of its contents and felt around for any hidden zippers. None. It was empty, save for some unused tampons scattering right beneath your feet.

Your vision began to grow blurry.

Pushing past Kiyoomi, you dashed for the bathroom and knelt on the ground, opening the trash bin and digging through the heap of dry paper towels. You stared at it, confused. Why throw away perfectly good and unused napkins? Determined, you flipped the bin upside down. A white, thin object fell on the ground with a soft clink.

You reached for it with shaky hands.

It was a pregnancy test – one that read positive.

Behind you, you heard Kiyoomi’s sharp inhale. “It’s not mine,” his words faded into the background, “I never touched her.”

When you found the strength to speak, your voice came out weak and cracked.

“…I know you’re not the father.”

from the left: beach house → master bedroom → reading room

[0shewrites0]

liquid gold

Chapter 17: marry me 💍

When Geri entered the girls' dressing room, she was surprised to find Rory in there alone. She was sitting on a stool, her shoulders slumped and her eyebrows knitted together.

"Babes, are you OK?"

At Geri's voice, Rory looked up abruptly and forced a weak smile onto her face. "Oh, hi Ger..."

Geri frowned and hurried over to her side, pulling out a stool right next to her and perching herself on it. "Right, that won't do. Talk to me, girl."

Rory took a deep breath, then exhaled forcefully. "It's just... Did it seem weird to you how Alex reacted when I accepted Travis's apology?"

tag list | @libelle949 @oakley-my-sexy-firefighter @eskiix @hi-im-karla @aldcaldos 🤎

[ohmynabiii]

𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 ; 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

switch!reader x dom!hyunjin

"The room thrummed with the sounds of the after-party, but none of it reached you or Hyunjin. Ever since you arrived at the premiere’s after-party, something electric had crackled between you, something raw and hungry. He stood across the room, mingling with the others, his features perfect under the dim, atmospheric lighting. The black tailored suit hugged his body just right, the slim cut highlighting his lean figure, while his hair framed his face with just the right amount of effortlessness. From the moment you entered the room, your golden dress flowing behind you, his eyes hadn’t left you."

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𝐜𝐰 : cunnilingus/female oral sex, love bites, hickies, teasing

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : romance, smut MDNI

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 4.2k

𝐚𝐧: this is definitely one of my favorite skz fic so far, hope you enjoy !! please don't hesitate to lmk what you think :)

────୨ৎ────

You could feel the weight of his gaze no matter where you were, like a touch that wasn’t quite there but burned just the same. Even through the chaos of clinking glasses and the endless hum of conversation, there was something only the two of you shared. His stare was heavy, consuming. It followed the curve of your body, lingering on the way the fabric clung to your hips, the delicate arch of your back. Every move you made seemed to send a shiver through him, his need becoming more palpable with each passing second.

Hyunjin had always been good at keeping himself composed in public. He could flash a smile and charm anyone in the room, hiding the darker, more intense parts of himself beneath a carefully curated exterior. But tonight, his mask was slipping. Every time you met his gaze, the hunger in his eyes seemed to grow deeper, more desperate. His fingers flexed at his side, his jaw tightened as if holding back the urge to come over and claim you right there in front of everyone.

You had to admit, you loved having this effect on him. The way you could make his breath hitch with just a look, the way his entire demeanor shifted when you so much as brushed past him. It was a silent game, one you both knew well. And tonight, you were playing it to perfection.

The golden dress you wore felt like liquid silk against your skin, the shimmering fabric catching the light with every movement. You had chosen it deliberately, knowing how much he loved the way you looked in gold. The neckline dipped just low enough to be daring, but not scandalous—though you knew it was enough to keep his eyes glued to you. And every time you crossed paths with him, you made sure to let him see just enough to drive him wild.

When you first brushed past him, it was subtle—your hand grazing his arm, a fleeting touch that left his skin tingling. You didn’t stop to look at him, but you could feel the tension in his body as you passed, could hear the subtle catch in his breath. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it thrilled you to watch him unravel, bit by bit.

From across the room, you’d give him those teasing, knowing smiles—the ones that sent his mind spiraling. Every time you caught his eye, the corner of your lips would curl just slightly, the glint in your eyes daring him to lose control. You leaned against the bar at one point, deliberately arching your back so he had a perfect view of the curve of your spine, the way the dress clung to your body like a second skin. You knew he was watching, could feel the heat of his gaze like a brand.

It wasn’t just the way he looked at you, though. It was the small things—the subtle tension in his posture, the way his hands flexed when you were close, the way he was always just a little too quick to glance away when someone else noticed his distraction. He was trying so hard to keep his composure, but you could see the cracks forming, the desire bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

You walked past him again, this time closer, your shoulder brushing his arm as you whispered, “Enjoying the view?” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but the way his breath hitched told you everything you needed to know.

He didn’t respond at first, just stared at you with darkened eyes, his lips parted slightly as if trying to find the right words. You didn’t wait for an answer, though. Instead, you threw him one last teasing smile and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving him standing there, fists clenched, his desire written all over his face.

The game continued throughout the night, the tension between you building with every passing moment. Every glance, every subtle touch, was like adding kindling to a fire that was already burning hot. You could feel it. It was intoxicating, knowing you had this much power over him, knowing how badly he wanted you and how much he was holding himself back.

But you weren’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

The party was lively, the conversations flowing freely around you, but for you, there was only one focus. You walked past him again, trailing your fingers lightly across the back of his hand, a fleeting touch that left him visibly breathless. His jaw clenched, and you could see the struggle in his eyes—the need to maintain control, to keep up the pretense of normalcy, even as his desire threatened to consume him.

You couldn’t resist the urge to push him just a little further.

When the crowd shifted, and the paparazzi and press were distracted with some other celebrity, you made your move. You crossed the room, your golden dress flowing elegantly with each step, and stood beside him. Close enough for him to feel your presence, but still just out of reach. You leaned in, pretending to adjust something on your dress, your lips just inches from his ear.

"Patience," you whispered, the single word laced with playful defiance.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched audibly, his eyes narrowing as they met yours. His control was slipping, and you could see it in the way his chest rose and fell just a little faster, the way his hand twitched as if fighting the urge to reach out and pull you to him. But he didn’t. Not yet. Instead, he swallowed hard, his voice low and strained as he whispered back, “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You smirked, your fingers lightly grazing his wrist as you whispered, “Maybe.” 

The rest of the room seemed to blur into the background, the noise and the people fading away as the tension between you reached its breaking point. You could feel the pull between you, like a live wire crackling with electricity. And you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

Finally, when the moment came, he didn’t hesitate.

It was quick and subtle—a break in the crowd, the cameras turned away for just a moment. His hand found yours, fingers curling around your wrist with a firm, unspoken promise. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes told you everything: he was done waiting.

Hyunjin led you through the dimly lit hallway, the music from the party growing softer behind you as he guided you toward his dressing room. His grip was strong, but not rough, his touch filled with a quiet urgency that made your heart race. The anticipation between you was palpable, each step drawing you closer to what you both had been craving all night.

The door to his dressing room clicked shut behind you, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist.

The second you were alone, everything changed. The careful control he had maintained throughout the night shattered, replaced by something raw and primal. His hands were on you in an instant, sliding over your waist, his touch possessive and urgent. His breath was hot against your skin, ragged and uneven as he pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me?” His voice was low, rough with need, his eyes dark and intense as they searched yours.

You smiled, deliberately slow, your fingers trailing up the front of his chest as you felt the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “Maybe,” you teased, your voice soft and playful, though you could feel your own pulse quickening.

Before you could say more, his lips crashed against yours, capturing them in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate, as if he had been holding back for far too long and could no longer contain himself. His hands roamed your body with a frantic need, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as his lips moved over yours, deepening the kiss with each second.

His hands slid to your waist, then lower, gripping your hips as if anchoring himself to you. His mouth moved from your lips to your jaw, then to your neck, where he left a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your breath hitch. Each kiss was rougher than the last, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving marks in his wake. You gasped when he found that sensitive spot just below your ear, your hands tightening in his hair as a low moan escaped your lips.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and shaky as he pressed a soft kiss just below your ear. “I’ve wanted you all night. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” The way he looked at you, filled with a desperate yearning, made your heart race.

“I was just trying to have a little fun,” you replied coyly, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you arched into him.

His eyes darkened even more at your teasing words, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned in. “Oh, so that’s what you call this, fun,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “You’ve been driving me insane all night.” He dipped down to your collarbone, pressing his lips against the sensitive flesh with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I can’t get enough of you, you know that?” His voice was thick with desire, a promise laced within his words. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Your gaze is drawn to the unmistakable bulge straining against the fabric of his tailored suit pants, a potent testament to his desire that sends a thrill coursing through you. A teasing smile curves your lips as you lean in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whisper, “I have some idea…”

In a heartbeat, he shoves you against the vanity, the cool surface biting into your skin, a delicious contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His hands grip your waist, anchoring you in place as he leans in, his lips brushing against your neck before trailing down to your collarbone. Each kiss is both urgent and tender, his mouth exploring every inch of exposed skin as if he were savoring a fine delicacy. The sensations ignite delicious shivers that dance across your body, stoking the simmering fire within you.

With a swift, possessive motion, he turns you around, his fingers tangling in your hair, gently pulling it aside to reveal the soft curve of your back. The air thickens with tension, the silence amplifying every sound as his warm breath caresses your skin. He kisses a slow, deliberate path down your spine, each touch igniting a spark that pulls you closer to the precipice of your desires.

As he reaches the zipper of your dress, he undresses you with his teeth, his lips grazing the fabric with tantalizing precision. The way he nips gently at the material, tugging it down with both skill and hunger, sends your heart racing faster than you thought possible. The anticipation coils tight within you, your breath hitching as the fabric slips down your body, leaving your skin exposed to his fervent attention.

His tongue glides along the delicate line of your spine, trailing warmth that ignites a feverish heat throughout your body. You instinctively arch into him, feeling his presence envelop you as he plants soft love bites along the curve of your ass. Each mark sends waves of pleasure through you, intensifying the need that swirls between you. You can feel his smile against your skin, the satisfaction of marking you evident in the way he savors every inch, his grip on your hips both possessive and passionate.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice thick with longing, sending fresh shivers racing down your spine as his lips roam across your skin. His hands explore the soft curves of your body, fingers trailing over your thighs and back as if he is memorizing every contour, every dip and curve that belongs to him. The blend of his gentle touches and the raw urgency of his kisses sends your head spinning, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As he presses closer, the heat radiating from his body melds with the desire surging through your body, creating an electric tension that fills the air. The weight of his gaze is intense and hungry, like a flame fueling the fire within you, pushing you to surrender completely to the passion that pulses between you.

You feel him pull away momentarily, the sudden absence of his warmth sending a jolt of disappointment through you. But it’s quickly replaced by a gasp as you feel the hot, thick stripe of his tongue glide over your clothed folds. The contact is electrifying, and you can’t help but moan at the delicious sensation, arching your back into his touch. “Fuck, Hyunjin,” you breathe, the heat pooling deep within you.

But he pulls away again, leaving you with an annoyed grunt that mingles frustration and desperation. It’s as if he relishes the power he has over you, and before you can fully process the loss, he dives back in, trailing heated kisses along the back of your thigh. His lips are soft yet demanding, kissing a path that sends tingling sensations racing through you. Each kiss is deliberate, almost worshipful, as he takes his time, savoring every inch of your skin. You can feel the warmth of his mouth leaving lingering heat in its wake, igniting your senses.

He kisses the sensitive skin just above your knee, biting gently before sucking, creating a mark that will serve as a reminder of this moment. You’re overwhelmed, breath hitching as he moves further up your thigh, his mouth trailing soft, lingering kisses that seem to melt into your very core. The sensation is intoxicating, a mix of urgency and tender adoration that makes you tremble with need. 

As he lavishes attention on your left thigh, he becomes more fervent, leaving behind a flurry of hickeys—dark red and pink spots blooming beneath his teasing mouth. Each one feels like a brand, a claim he’s making on you, and you can’t help but squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding your body. His kisses are deep and possessive, punctuated by gentle bites that send jolts of pleasure shooting through your veins. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the anticipation building within you as he teases and torments, drawing you closer to the brink of madness.

When he finally finishes with your left thigh, he leans in to stripe a slow, deliberate lick just beside your clit, and your breath hitches as you feel the heat radiating from his mouth. His breath is hot against your most sensitive spot, and you groan, a mixture of annoyance and need flooding your system. “You’re driving me crazy,” you whimper, the words barely escaping as desire envelops you like a warm blanket.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through your body and sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you, but it only ignites your hunger further. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with seduction, and you can’t help but regret the way you toyed with him earlier in the night. The tide of need surging within you is overwhelming, and every fiber of your being craves him.

With tantalizing slowness, he eases his attention to your other thigh, his lips brushing over the skin with feather-light kisses, sending shivers of anticipation rippling through you. He plants soft kisses along your ass as he glides past, his mouth warm and inviting. As he shifts his focus, you can feel the intensity of his desire, a palpable energy that heightens your own.

He begins to explore your other thigh, his mouth creating a trail of heated kisses that bloom into marks like the ones on the other side. His lips dance over your skin, each press of his mouth igniting fresh waves of desire. He bites gently, leaving behind an array of hickeys, the combination of pain and pleasure making you gasp. You can feel the pressure building within you as he laps at your skin, his tongue warm and teasing.

“Hyunjin,” you moan, frustration spilling over in your voice as he draws out the moment, taking his time to savor every inch of your thighs. You’re dripping through your underwear now, the damp fabric clinging to you as you let out soft, frustrated sighs and groans, your body begging for more. 

He continues his relentless assault, alternating between teasing kisses and gentle bites, his mouth working its magic, leaving behind marks that tell the world who you belong to. The sensations are overwhelming, a dizzying mix of pleasure and impatience as he makes his way back up your thigh, his tongue swirling against your skin with a deliberate slowness that drives you wild.

You’re shaking with need, every touch igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment. The anticipation is almost unbearable, and the sounds of your breathy whimpers fill the room, mixing with the soft, wet sounds of his mouth against your skin. 

But just as the anticipation reaches a boiling point, and you start to think he has no intention of giving you what you crave, he surprises you with a deep kiss directly onto your clit. The sensation jolts through you, and you jump, a moan escaping your lips as your ass instinctively presses against his face. He buries himself in your wet heat, sucking your underwear into his mouth, savoring the taste of your juices that have soaked through the fabric. 

You can hear the soft sound of his moan as he relishes your essence, breathing in the intoxicating scent that envelops you both. In a surge of urgency, he rips your underwear down, the fabric tearing away to expose your longing. Instantly, his tongue is on you, licking through your folds with fervor, the warmth of his mouth sending shockwaves up your spine. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking it with a delicious pressure that has you gasping, your body arching toward him as you feel the heat building within.

“Don’t stop,” you groan, your eyes rolling back as pure pleasure washes over you when you feel his fingers slip inside you. But instead of finding a rhythm like he usually would, he simply leaves them inside, teasingly still as he showers kisses on your inner thighs, making you writhe in desperation.

With every gentle kiss he plants, your frustration grows, a mix of pleasure and impatience flooding your veins. You instinctively try to press your hips back, seeking more friction, more of him. But he responds with a firm grip, pressing you further into the cool surface of the vanity with his other hand. You let out another desperate “fuck,” the sound barely contained as you grasp the edge of the table, your fingers digging into the wood for support.

Your legs shake, threatening to give out under the delicious strain of need. The sensation of his fingers buried deep inside you, coupled with the relentless assault of his mouth, sends you spiraling. The heat pooling in your core intensifies, every flick of his tongue and press of his fingers driving you closer to insanity. You’re lost in a haze of sensation, each moment stretching out as the pleasure ebbs, leaving you gasping for release.

“Hyunjin, please,” you plead, your voice shaky with desire, craving more of his touch, more of everything. But he just chuckles softly against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, igniting the fire that burns even brighter. 

He responds to your plea with a sultry grin, the corners of his mouth quirking up as if he enjoys the power he holds over you. “You want more, baby?” he teases, his breath hot against your glistening folds, sending shivers down your spine. Without waiting for an answer, he dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit with tantalizing precision, sending you tumbling deeper into the bliss he’s creating. The sensations are overwhelming, a mix of heat and urgency that makes your heart race. Each flick of his tongue ignites a spark, and you can feel the familiar coil of pleasure tightening within you, threatening to snap at any moment.

He picks up the pace, alternating between sucking your clit and plunging his tongue into you, each movement more fervent than the last. Your moans fill the dressing room, echoing off the walls as you lose yourself in the rhythm he creates. The pressure builds with every deliberate motion, and you feel yourself spiraling closer to the edge, a dizzying mix of pleasure and need. His fingers, still buried deep inside you, finally begin to move, curling and pressing against that perfect spot as he pushes you further.

“Hyunjin, I’m—” you gasp, unable to finish your thought as the waves of pleasure crash over you, each one stronger than the last. You can feel the heat pooling low in your belly, a tidal wave of sensation that threatens to overwhelm you. He hums against you, and it only serves to heighten your need. The world around you fades, leaving only the sweet sound of your breathing and the exquisite taste of him.

“Let go, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. The command ignites something deep within you, and with a final, desperate thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue, you shatter. The pleasure floods through you, white-hot and all-consuming, as you scream his name, the sound spilling from your lips as your body quakes in ecstasy. He doesn’t let up, riding you through the waves of your climax, each aftershock sending you higher as he keeps you teetering on the edge of bliss, leaving you breathless and utterly spent.

As the last waves of pleasure ripple through you, you slowly come back to reality, your breath still heavy and uneven. Hyunjin softly pulls away as you turn to face him, his gentle hands helping guide you around. You feel a rush of warmth as he looks up at you, a mixture of satisfaction and adoration reflected in his darkened gaze. He leans in, planting tender kisses along your thighs, lingering on each mark he left behind.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and warm, laced with concern. His fingers find your waist, stroking gentle patterns on your skin, grounding you in the afterglow. You nod, a smile breaking across your face as you catch your breath, feeling cherished and adored. 

“More than okay,” you reply, the thrill of pleasure still dancing in your veins. He grins, that beautiful, playful smile that never fails to make your heart flutter, and you can’t help but reach out, cupping his face and pulling him closer for a sweet kiss. It’s soft and lingering, filled with the warmth of shared intimacy, a stark contrast to the heated passion of just moments before.

Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him as he leans back against the vanity, his warmth enveloping you. You melt into him, resting your head on his shoulder as you both take a moment to bask in the aftermath. The room feels quiet and safe, the chaos of the party outside a distant memory.

“You had me a little worried there,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through your hair as he looks down at you, his eyes softening. “I’ve never seen you so needy before..” 

You laugh softly, the sound light and airy, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Only for you,” you tease, lifting your head to meet his gaze, feeling a new wave of warmth flood your cheeks. “I didn’t know you could be so… intense.” 

“Only for you,” he replies, matching your tone, but sincerity rings in his voice. He brushes a thumb over your cheek, his touch gentle and tender. You can’t help but lean into his touch, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

After a few quiet moments, he reaches down and gathers your underwear from the floor, a playful glint in his eyes. “You might want these back,” he says, smirking as he tosses them to you. You laugh, the sound echoing lightly in the room, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Thanks,” you say, shaking your head but grinning as you slip them back on, feeling the soft fabric against your skin. He watches you, a satisfied smile on his lips, as if he’s just completed a masterpiece. 

“Should we get back out there?” he asks, his tone teasing but laced with warmth. You nod, feeling the lingering effects of your climax settle into a comfortable hum within you.

“We could…” You meet his gaze with a soft smile, “But I think rumors might spread about the K-pop idol with a hard-on at the afterparty.” You gesture to his pants, and he looks down with a laugh, a flush creeping into his cheeks as he adjusts himself.

“Yeah, I might need to do something about that,” he replies, an impish glint in his eyes. 

You smirk, leaning closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “How about I return the favor?” His eyes widen, the playful warmth shifting into something more heated as he locks onto your gaze, the tension between you thickening once again. “Oh, I like the sound of that,” he murmurs, a teasing grin spreading across his face. The night is far from over, and you both know it.

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🦋

[girlrotterr]

Trails of Sweetness.

farm!ellie x fem!reader Summary: ellie's a worker at your family's peach farm. a/n: another fic for you angels!! tysm for the support on my last fic!!

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You awoke at 8:00, stretching tiredly in bed before drawing back the curtains. The early morning sun filled your room with a warm glow, inviting the essence of summer. The peach trees stood tall and elegant, their leaves dancing in the summer breeze. Opening the window, the fresh air surrounded you, the sun illuminating the meadow. A view of vibrant oranges and reds painted the sky.

The field surrounding the farm with life—blooming flowers, buzzing bees, and the cheerful chirping of birds. The morning wind, so gentle on your skin. 

With a final glimpse out the window, you began your routine.

The sink's tap gushed water as you brushed your teeth, taking a moment to run a brush through your hair, gently working out the knots from last night's rest. Finally, completing your routine by making your bed, the soft cotton sheets and pillowcases soothed beneath your fingertips.

Now, in your usual peach-picking outfit—denim overalls paired with a delicate lace tank top, hair tied back with a red ribbon—you slipped into your rusty dark brown boots. 

Breakfast can wait; I need to head out there!

You headed downstairs with your basket in hand, swung open the front door, and…

There it was – the breathtaking meadow. The view never failed to amaze you. With a skip in your step, you headed towards the peach trees, eager to begin the day's harvest.

You began approaching the first tree heavy with peaches, the rosy, plump fruits dangling like ornaments, ready to be picked.

“Hello sweeties!" you exclaimed excitedly, reaching to pick them.

Snatch!

Suddenly, the peach was ripped off by an arm behind you.

"What—" You quickly turned around, wanting to know who had robbed your peach.

andd..of fucking course.

"It's ripe," Ellie said, bouncing the peach in her hand.

"No, really?" you said sarcastically, looking at her with pure annoyance.

Ellie smirked at you before taking a bite out of the peach. Her teeth sank into the juicy fruit, a burst of sweetness exploding in her mouth. Peach juices squelched and dribbled down her chin, glistening in the sunlight like liquid gold. A run of juice trailed down her fingers, leaving a sticky residue. The pure sweetness coated her lips.

"Yeah, definitely ripe," she said, wiping her mouth while looking at you. 

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to feed into Ellie's remarks. "What are you even doing out here?"

"I figured you needed a taste tester," Ellie said while smiling cheekily, the peach in her hand glistening.

Ellie had become part of the farm last summer, when your family needed extra hands. She effortlessly adapted, and it irked you how perfect she was. Harvesting a week's worth of peaches in just three days.

Since she joined, you found yourself distracted. The fields and peach trees, once the entire focus of your attention, now had competition with the disruption that was Ellie.

Her demeanor and mischievous smiles...

god..you couldn’t resist it. 

A part of you craved that distraction.

"I can decide that on my own," you said, taking the peach from Ellie's hand.

Squelch!

The sound of teeth sinking into a ripe peach.

Biting into the area she had bitten, the sweet juices burst into your mouth, flowing down your chin and onto your collarbones. The warmth of the sun beamed down onto you, the sticky sweetness running down onto your chest, almost staining your tank top.

"Fuck… you're messier than me," Ellie said, her eyes fixed on the trails of juices along your skin. They slid down perfectly.

Ellie reached her hand out, gathering the sticky sweetness alongside her fingertips. She slid her fingers along your skin, tracing your chin and collarbones. The warmth of her touch left a new trail, a trail of heat. Slowly she brought her fingers to her lips, a mischievous look in her eyes. 

Her tongue darted out, delicately licking the peach juices off her fingers. She was doing this on purpose, she wanted to tease you.

"Mmm..." A smirk played on Ellie's lips as she licked her fingers clean.

You looked at Ellie in embarrassment, completely flushed.

"You're a real sicko," you said, grabbing Ellie's hand and placing the bitten peach into her hands once again.

Ellie smirked. "aw, don't be mean." She looked at you, a stare so irresistible. “I helped you clean up.”

“hm…you missed a spot,” you said, gathering the trail of peach juices along your chest. Bringing your finger to Ellie's lip, rubbing the peach juices along them. Her lips were now covered in a glossy sweetness

Ellie's eyes widened, your sudden touch sending shivers down her spine. Your fingers moved achingly slow as they traced her soft pink lips, the warmth of your touch leaving her entranced. Fuck, she thought to herself, her gaze fixed on you. A part of her had imagined this scenario before, but instead of peach juices, it was your own juices spread across her lips.

“You're terrible at helping,” you said cheekily, turning your back away from her. Beginning to pick peaches, your original focus. 

Your sudden remark made Ellie snap out of her trance. She bit her lip, fucking needing you; craving to have you bury your cunt against her face, squeezing your thighs against her head, suffocating her in ecstasy. Ellie gave you a soft chuckle, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

She turned around, walking away, feeling the peach in her hand—the softness of it and the sweetness running down her wrists. The texture of the peach was warm against her skin, the sticky juices tracing down her fingers.

She began walking a little quicker now, her steps becoming heavier, her grip tightening on the peach. The fruit was wet and warm against her palm. The juices, still fresh and sweet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck... Ellie's mind raced as she practically sprinted towards the tool shed—urgency in her steps. With a swift motion, she banged the door open, slamming it closed behind her, leaning against the wooden wall. In desperation, she unbuckled her belt, swiftly loosening it. Shoving her hand down her boxers, feeling her wet cunt along her warm fingertips.

“Fuckk.., you made me soo fucking wet…” she mumbled to herself, slowly gliding her fingers against her slit. Her wetness coated her fingers while gripping the peach firmly, it squelching in her hands.

She brought the peach up to her mouth, sticking her tongue out to lick the area where you had bitten. Circling her puffy clit, huffs escaped her lips, moaning heavily against it. The sweetness of the peach's juices coated her tongue as she ran it up and down the fruit, pretending it was your sweet cunt.

“Nghhh..wanna eat..it..soo bad..” Her hips began bucking against her fingers, her pace quickening. She threw her head back, hitting the shed’s wooden wall with a harsh thud. “Mmm! Fuckkk!…” 

Ellie's fingers pressed into the peach’s soft flesh, the once smooth surface becoming tainted with bruises and tears. With each squeeze, the peach's delicate skin burst, releasing sticky juices that dripped down Ellie's hand and onto the shed floor. The peach, once a symbol of sweetness, now lay in Ellie's hand as something grotesque. 

“You’re- ngh.. a fucking tease..” Ellie shut her eyes closed, simply picturing your pretty pussy against her mouth. “t-touching my fucking..lips–”

Click!

A rush of panic ran through Ellie as she heard the doorknob turn. "Shit." Her heart pounded in her chest, and with a sudden urgency, she tried to fix her clothes. But the door was already halfway open by the time she reached for her belt.

You walked into the shed, focused on finding a stool for reaching higher peaches. However, your attention completely shifted as you laid eyes on Ellie. She stood before you, her auburn hair disheveled and clinging to her flushed face. Her right arm and mouth glistened with peach juices. Her belt hung loosened, revealing her boxers. Both your widened eyes met. 

Ellie's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. She was fucking caught.

The tension in the air was thick, silence filled the shed, the only sound being Ellie's shaky breathing.

You slowly closed the shed door, leaning against the shed door, a playful grin forming on your lips. “holy..shit.” 

Ellie stood frozen, her wide eyes remained fixed on you, not a muscle in her body moving.

“Ellie, what-” 

"I was just— I was looking for—...fuck." Ellie muttered, frustration in her voice. She threw her head back against the wooden wall, closing her eyes and scrunching her nose in defeat. She couldn’t get out of this.

You stepped closer to Ellie, taking in the view. Her veiny hand tightly gripping the disfigured peach, her happy trail completely exposed, her freckled face completely flushed. She’s a complete mess.  

"You really are a fucking sicko," you said with a teasing grin. 

Ellie shook her head, still avoiding eye contact. "If you hadn't walked in—"

You interrupted her, grabbing her wrist and pushing the peach close to her face. "You would've fucked this."

Ellie scoffed, a smirk playing on her lips. "I'm not that fucking gross."

With a grin, you pushed the peach even closer to her mouth, the juices now trailing down your hand. "You're gross enough to cum to it,” you teased.

Annoyance grew in Ellie's eyes as she finally looked at you. A mixture of irritation and frustration in her expression. Irritated that you had walked in, annoyed that you now held this over her. Frustrated that you had witnessed her this deranged.

You let go of her wrist, wiping your wet hand along her white tank top, slightly dampening it. Your palm slowly brushing against her nipples, causing Ellie to flinch slightly. Looking down at Ellie's other hand, you notice her slightly pruned index finger. You bite your bottom lip, trying not to laugh at her eagerness.

“I’ll let you get back to it.” You say tauntingly, giving Ellie a smirk before turning away to open the shed door. Suddenly, feeling a tight grip on your hip, the force swaying you to turn around. 

Ellie's hand tightened its grip on your hip bone, pulling you intensely close to her body. Her loosened belt now grazed your lower stomach, the coolness of it sent shivers down your spine.

"Don't fucking say anything to anyone," she threatened, her husky voice against your lips. Your eyes met Ellie's, her gaze piercing through you. 

fuckk..

Her gaze only fueled you to taunt her further. The way her stare pierced into yours with intensity sent a thrill down your body, knowing that your actions were affecting her in ways she couldn't hide.

"Scared that people will know how pathetic you are?" you teased, earning a forceful pull from Ellie, your body bumping against hers. Now, your lips were mere centimeters away, her intense stare locking onto yours.

"I'm serious...please," she pleaded, her grip loosening as desperation filled her eyes. She was completely vulnerable, her dominance crumbling before your eyes.

“hm...” your voice was low as you slid your hands along Ellie's body. Tracing the curve of her abdomen up to her neck, Her skin felt incredibly hot under your touch. 

"I could always tell a different story…” you suggested, looking up at Ellie. Bringing your lips closer to Ellie's ear, you lightly brushed against her skin. The intense heat between your bodies filled the shed, leaving no room for anything else. 

“If we make one.” 

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸

daughter of demeter! reader x luke castellan 🌿

IN WHICH.. the “best friends” of camp half-blood maybe wanna become a little more..

warning! this fic contains: fem!reader // use of y/n

🎧- lovesick by laufey

1.7k

Camp Half-blood was illuminated by gold streaks casted from the early morning sun. Light seeped into Cabin 4 through the window, painting the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. The bright rays were a natural alarm, gently waking you from your warm sleep. 

As the covers slipped off your skin with ease, you carefully tiptoed out of the twin bed to close the blinds. Young campers softly snored, and you couldn’t help but smile at their blissful state. Grabbing the rough fabric, you quietly pulled the two pieces together, blocking any more sunlight from startling your siblings.

Sleep still threatened to drag you under, so you slipped on sandals and trudged towards the kitchen, eager to get a warm cup of coffee, or really anything to help you wake up. 

Outside was fairly silent, contrary to the rowdy and noisy afternoons that typically filled the camp. The only ones awake were boisterous birds, who sung an enchanting song, and a few other counselors who were busy setting up  for the day. 

Your steady steps carried you to the small camp kitchen, where snacks littered the room as a reward for the effort of the counselors. A small jet black coffee maker stood on the counter, with Luke Castellan lingering next to it, facing away from you. Your presence went unnoticed by him, and you watched as he swiftly picked up two steaming mugs.

He slightly jumped at the sight of you, surprised by your hushed entrance. 

“H-Hey. Made you your coffee.” He said, reaching out to awkwardly hand you one of the energizing brown liquids. You delicately giggled at him for his initial fright, and accepted the sweet gesture.

“Thank you. Excited for today’s activities?” You asked, taking a sip of your toasty drink. Today, Hermes and Demeter Cabin were partnering up for a lazy day doing arts and crafts and indoor activities. The kids spent the past week relentlessly training, working hard from dusk till dawn, so an easy day was needed.

“Any time I get to spend with you is exciting.” Luke replied, smirking, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking. “I- Uh, I didn’t mean it-“ 

You laughed again, quickly cutting him off.

“I know what you meant. See you at eight.” You turned away, teasingly bumping his shoulder. 

“See ya.” He whispered out, pursing his lips and doing a slight nod as he witnessed you sauntering away. 

You and Luke had been close friends since the beginning. He arrived with Annabeth and Grover, confused and broken by the world. Luke never wanted to be a demigod, to lose Thalia. It was all too much for him.

But then you passed by in the infirmary, practically radiating a positive energy. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes nearly closing, before going to chat with some Apollo kid.

You were selected to give him and Annabeth a tour later that afternoon, presumably for your friendly and charming personality that seemed to lure people in. Luke got to observe your perfection firsthand as you helped the his sister adapt to the new surroundings, sweetly showing her everything to love about camp.

Luke followed you around like a lost puppy, mesmerized by your every move. With every step you took, luscious flowers blossomed, creating a beautiful scenery. Not to mention, the kids looked up to you so dearly, with the way you patched their nearly invisible cuts and grew them tulips on their worst days. 

The sad reality was you were more of a mother to them than their biological parents, even if you were only fourteen at the time. You did your best to make them feel “normal,” to let them live a glorious childhood that you were never granted. 

In those five years after his arrival, you became close as ever. Whether it was spending time basking in the strawberry fields or splashing around in the lake, you spent every minute together, your bond stronger than any weapon forged in Olympus. You laid by him on those restless nights before he got claimed, and after, too. And when you had a small cold, he went full Apollo-mode and spent hours glued to your side until you felt better. 

However, there was one teensy issue. Luke was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. Every one saw the way he gazed at you a little too long and with a little too much love in his eyes for just a friend.

Well, all noticed except you. The poor boy thought you weren’t interested, but the reality was your concept of love was so twisted and blurry that you had no clue what “love” even looked like. 

So, both you and him stayed silent, hoping one would realize eventually, and end this torture of a situationship.

Which brings us back to now, a cool and humid lazy morning with the campers, lounging on the few picnic tables decorated outside Hermes Cabin. Luke watched as you sat with your (and his) siblings, carefully threading pearly pink beads on a flimsy string. You laughed as you talked to the young children, making sure they were all included. The sun brightened your features, making you appeal heavenly. And your eyes twinkled with curiosity as a little unclaimed kid ranted on about some silly story.

“Dude, you’re staring again.” Chris chimed in, raising his eyebrows as he continued to paint navy shades of blue onto a rock.

“Shut up. Aren’t you whipped for Clarisse?” Luke sarcastically asked.

“If anyones whipped here, it’s you. How long have you liked her now? Can’t you just tell her already?” He was quick to return the sassy attitude, remaining unbothered by his friend’s remark.

“It’s not that simple, you know that. What if she doesn’t like me back and-“ He tried to ramble on, negative thoughts swallowing him whole. Luckily, Chris was there to pull him out of his own mind with yet another dumb comment.

“Damn. I knew you weren’t Athena’s son, but I didn’t know you were that clueless.”

“What?” Luke questioned, slightly offended.

“How many guys has she dated since she met you?”

“None. But I don’t see how this really relates-“

“And how many have asked her out?”

Luke paused for a second. There was Ethan from Ares, who tried asking her on a date a week ago, but she declined. Or Jack from Aphrodite, who, let’s be real, was the most attractive boy in camp, but she rejected him, too.

Chris took his silence as a victory. “Exactly.” He retorted.

“Whatever.” Luke shrugged, hopping up to sit by you. You scooted to your left, making room for him instantly. Cheers erupted from the campers as they saw their (second favorite) counselor.

“Luke! Y/N told us that you still snore when you sleep!” One of them pipped out, sending the rest of the minions into a giggle fit. Luke took a dramatic gasp in, placing a hand on his heart to pretend he was hurt.

“I do not!” He yelped, making the younger laugh even harder. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the kids joke around.

“I can’t believe you would betray me like that!” He said to you, trying to fake upset, but the huge grin on his face said otherwise.

“I mean, am I wrong? You are the loudest sleeper I’ve ever met!” You reply, grinning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks the other way, and before you can say anything, a voice cut you off.

“Hey! Luke, Y/N!” A blond Apollo child shouted from afar, gently jogging while approaching them. They shifted their attention, prepared to fulfill whatever task presented.

“Chiron needs you in the office. New kid arrived. They said his name was Percy or something?” He finished, jogging away, most likely to get back to the infirmary.

The leaders looked back at their older friend, wondering if he could cover while they helped this newcomer out. 

Chris gave a thumbs up, signaling he could watch them for a few minutes. 

You and Luke playfully danced around one another on the short stroll, talking about anything and everything while you walk through the woods.

Soon, you reached the open building, the stain glass windows casting a colorful glow. You peer inside to see a blond teen, looking around twelve years old, arguing with Dionysius.

“Peter Johnson is here!” The drunk croaked out, and the two counselors made sure to swoop in. 

“Percy, Right?” You said, slightly a little too enthusiastic for 8am on a Tuesday morning.

“Yeah. At least someone around here can get my name right.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Sorry about that. He can be a little.. chaotic. I’m Y/N, counselor of Demeter Cabin, and this is Luke, counselor of Hermes Cabin. We can give you a tour, if you want.” You explained, gesturing towards Luke who gave a friendly smile.

“Yeah, sure.” The blond boy replied.

-

“And this is Hermes Cabin, where you’ll be staying.” Luke exclaimed, pointing to the rough looking room.

“Uh, no offense, but why am I staying here?” Percy asked, disgust lingering in his words as he stared down the messy bunks.

“Uh, Offense taken. First of all, we’re definitely the best cabin of all time. And all unclaimed campers stay here, along with children of minor Gods.” The brunette said.

“Hate to break it to you Luke, but Demeter absolutely solos your Cabin.” You cut in, mouth letting out a ‘tsk’ sound. 

“Slow your roll there. Your cabin may be neat, but the amount of plants in there is slightly concerning.” Luke joked, you and him now unknowingly engaged in your own little conversation.

“It’s better than your pig pen!” You shouted, your sweet laugh echoing throughout the area.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied, and Percy took a step back, running into an older teen, staring at the “friends” who were flirting right before everyone.

“Do they always act like this?” He asked, referring to their nonstop conversations, and their slight physical touch. Your fleshy fingers were somehow always grazing his calloused skin. 

“Always. It’s sickening.” Chris replied.

“Agreed.” Percy sighed out, as Luke looked back at the two. They both gave an encouraging look, telling him to shoot his shot. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go out to the lake tonight? Just us?” He asked you, throat going dry and knees threatening to buckle as he fidgeted with his thumbs.

“I’d love too, Luke.” You replied, blushing as you swayed nervously.

“Great! It’s a date! Unless you don’t want it to be-“ He was quick to start, but you briefly interrupted.

“I’d like that.” 

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[starstruckkittensweets]

“Touch of Red” | Kinktober 2024

Formal Wear || Hawks | Keigo Takami

fandom: my hero academia Goodness gracious, formal wear is my weakness. So I thought about my beloved Hawks in it, and I started salivating. I think this is my first official fic centered around Hawks, and not a little drabble or blurb, so please be gentle! I hope I did our pretty bird boy justice. I hope you enjoy, my dears! warnings: public sex, formal wear + glove kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, Keigo's wings go a little awry when he's all worked up, panty stealing, finger sucking, brief aftercare || words: 3.1k

If there’s one positive about this mandatory hero gala tonight, it’s the fact you get to spend hours upon hours admiring the extensive selection of outfits, from pristine pressed suits to gorgeous flowing gowns. Everywhere you look is a sea of color; deep reds, blooming golds, striking silvers, and rich blues.

You’ve always been a sucker for anything fancy, prestigious events be damned. Staring at all the freshly ironed suits, blending from stark white to enchanting black. Practically drooling over each dress, whether they bear lace, ripples, or sparkles. All of it catches your eye, has you sipping at your glass of wine far more often than you would under normal circumstances. You can’t help it; there’s just something about seeing so many people together like this, all dressed in their absolute finest, that sends shivers down your spine and your heart fluttering in your chest.

Keigo knows about your little obsession—fascination, you always have to correct him—and he intends to exploit it in every way he can. Tonight is no exception; he smirks when he catches you ogling at him from the side, glass practically trembling in your grasp, nearly splashing the liquid all over the front of your dress.

And goodness gracious, does he look beautiful tonight.

He’s chosen a simple three-piece suit with a red shirt underneath and stark black gloves, but it’s enough to have you squirming in your assigned spot in the room. Hair swept back, golden eyes sharp as they roam around the room, finally settling on you. Lips curling into a smirk as you grab a fistful of napkins from the buffet table behind you, praying to whatever god may be listening above that you don’t make a fool out of yourself tonight.

Your presence is all but required as an active member of the commission. Not as a hero of course, but working a bland desk job well into the late hours of the night. Being a hero isn’t exactly something you aspired to be, even when you were younger, but working for the commission isn’t all flowers and unicorns, either. But if there’s one positive your job has granted you, it’s being given the chance to forge a friendship with the winged hero Hawks.

Even if he’s been staring at you nonstop for the last five minutes or so.

Just ignore him, he’ll go away eventually. Don’t encourage him.

You turn back to the table, swiping a piece of candy from the tray in the center and popping it in your mouth. Savoring the sweet taste before sipping at your wine—and nearly choking on it when Keigo suddenly appears right next to you.

“Careful there, birdie. Don’t want you ruining that pretty dress. I gotta say, were you planning on matching up with me tonight? Or is it just a coincidence?”

Your face grows warm beneath his teasing expression. No, you were most definitely not thinking about the color of your dress when you chose it for tonight. Definitely not thinking about the beautiful shade of his wings, nor the soft feathers that mirror the lace stitched around the hem. And absolutely not pressing a kiss to the little feather necklace sitting in your nightstand back home before leaving for the gala.

“Coincidence,” you manage to get out through another mouthful of wine. Damn it, anymore of this and you’re going home drunk off your ass. “You look…handsome, Hawks.”

He gives a light scoff at his hero name; the two of you are all too aware of the precautions you have to take in public. No kissing, no holding each other, no personal names when unwanted ears are listening in. You don’t doubt there’s someone with a hearing quirk eavesdropping on all conversations going on within this room right now, waiting to be released to the morning paper tomorrow. And as much as you’ve grown to admire Keigo over the past few years or so, the last thing you want is to give him any unnecessary negative attention from the media.

No telling what they’ll do to you if they find out you’re warming his bed every night. Rip you apart like the savages they are.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he says with a wink, and you swear you feel your knees buckle. “Red looks good on you. That one’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve seen you in so far.”

His favorite? He can’t be serious…

You swallow hard and hide your face behind your wine glass. But he’s quick to swipe it out of your grasp with a clump of feathers; curling his gloved fingers around the stem to lift it up to his mouth. Your heart leaps in your throat as you watch him take a small sip, in the same spot your mouth was on.

The exact same spot—is he trying to kill you tonight?! Does he even know what kind of effect he has on you, especially when he’s dressed so…dashingly?!

Apparently he does, by the way he smirks at you over the rim of the glass. Licking his lips afterward, his golden eyes almost glittering beneath the light of the chandeliers above.

“What’s wrong, little birdie? You look nervous.”

He cocks his head to the side, taking a step towards you; and you let out a yelp when your backside knocks into the buffet table. It would be just like you to end up in a fucking splattered cake because of him.

Stupid sexy hero in his stupid sexy suit!

“I’m not,” you choke out, glancing over his shoulder to avoid his eyes. Thankfully no one’s looking in your direction, witnessing the winged hero practically cornering you against the snack table. “I…I don’t…” Your cheeks are on fire, blood singing in your veins as he keeps his eyes fixed on you. “…You just look good tonight, okay?”

“Aww, birdie, you’re too sweet!” He leans in close, nose brushing your own as he rests your wine glass on the table behind you. “I tried my best just for you, after all!”

Of course you did, you feathered fuck.

“How nice… I’m sure you have a hundred admirers in this room alone, with that suit of yours.”

“Nah, not really. Barely notice ‘em! The only one I can see is you.”

Charming. You give him a smile and start to move away, but then he’s reaching for your wrist and holding it gently between his fingers. Leaning in close, making you shiver when his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Boring party so far…wanna step outside for a bit?”

A thousand no’s are on your lips, but you can’t seem to say them out loud. Your mind is spiraling, heart pounding against your ribcage, echoing in your ears.

You can’t. What if someone sees you? What if you’re gone for too long and someone notices? What if someone thinks you’re together? What if this backfires on both of you? What if the commission fires you after tonight for not acting professional enough? For getting too close to their precious golden boy?

He smiles, stretching his hand out to you, and suddenly you can’t remember what you were so nervous about in the first place.

“…Okay.”

His fingers feel so good laced together with your own. His red wings spread out, guarding you from any unwanted attention. He waves to any other guests that glance his way, insisting that he needs some fresh air, maybe even a quick flight to stretch his wings and then he’ll be back. He’s always been easy-going and confident with himself in the spotlight, able to sway the crowd and have them swooning over him, hanging onto every word that falls from his mouth.

All too soon you find yourselves out in the hallway, where a handful of heroes and commission workers are gathered. Luckily none of them pay you any mind as Keigo leads you further down the hall. Far away from any prying eyes.

Suddenly he yanks you to the side, not a soul in sight on either end of the hallway. Tugging you into a random room and slamming the door shut behind you. A warm glow fills the room as he pulls on the little chain of the lamp above your heads. The two of you are panting, face-to-face with each other, tucked away in a fucking supply closet of all places.

His lips find yours almost instantly; you can’t help but moan into his mouth, painted nails digging into his soft blond hair. He wraps his arms around your waist, his wings around your body, peppering soft kisses down the length of your jaw, your neck, and finally at your collarbone. Your back hits the wall behind you; somewhere in the room you can hear a few items clanging onto the floor.

“Door’s locked,” he mumbles against your skin, “just be quiet.”

“I’m not the one who has to be quiet,” you remind him, but your smile fades as he starts to suck on the juncture of your neck. “Y-you’re the louder one, you know…”

His lips are heavenly, teeth nipping at your skin, his fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Instinctively you wrap a leg around his waist, moaning as he begins to grind his hips into yours.

You don’t have much time, locks be damned. Sooner or later, someone will notice your absence and start looking. You can only imagine what tomorrow’s headlines would read upon a reporter discovering the two of you huddled up in a janitor’s closet.

Still, you savor the sight of him in his fancy little suit, before pushing his jacket off his shoulders and burying your face against the collar of his dark red shirt. Leaving a few love bites of your own as he rests his gloved hands along your curves. Holding you in place, biting back a moan every time you hit a sensitive spot.

“Keigo,” you whisper in his ear, “I want you to fuck me.”

He allows himself a little smirk, before ripping off one of his gloves with his teeth. “Say no more, pretty birdie.”

His lips are hot against your own, his fingers sliding down the length of your body, right against the small slit of your dress. Your whines are music to his ears as he pushes your panties to the side.

“Aww, already wet, aren’t you? You weren’t thinking about me out there, were you? Having all kinds of dirty thoughts in front of all those people?”

He talks big, but if the tightness in his pants is anything to go by…

Your breath hitches at the first brush of his fingers against your slick. The collar of his shirt is rumpled, the first few buttons of his vest undone. Your dress is barely clinging to your chest at this point, both sleeves tugged down to expose your collarbone and the tops of your breasts.

“Hm? I’m waiting, birdie.” You whine when Keigo slips a finger in, curling it slightly but refusing to move any more than that. “What were you thinking about out there, that got you all hot and bothered?”

He knows the answer, he always has—but he still needs to hear it from your mouth. You swallow hard and force your eyes open, nearly fainting when you see those gorgeous golden eyes staring right back at you.

“I-I…” You clear your throat, the words slipping from your mind as he adds a second finger. “…Was thinking about you, Keigo…”

“Oh were you, now? I’m flattered.” He gives you a cheeky smile before rewarding you with a gentle thrust of his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut, you begin to writhe against the wall, bucking your hips into his hand. “Details, birdie. I need details—I don’t think you were enamored by my good looks alone.”

“N-no… It was—ah, fuck—y-your outfit…”

He leans in so close you can taste his breath, feel his nose brush against the apple of your cheek. “And what about my outfit, huh?”

“’S just… You look good, Kei—always look so good all dressed up…”

“Yeah I know, you got a thing for me in suits, huh?”

There’s no arguing with him as he begins to move his fingers back and forth. Curling them into you, whispering filthy words in your ear, savoring the way you whine for him to go faster. His pants are unbearably tight; he’d reach down to free himself but that means he’d have to let go of your leg, still planted firmly around his waist.

“Always drooling over me whenever I get one of those modeling jobs… You like it when I get all dressed up, huh? Chose this one just for you, birdie—knew how much you love anything fancy. Bet you like these gloves too, huh?”

He reaches his gloved hand up to brush your face, slipping his middle and ring fingers past your lips with a moan. His cock is straining against his pants as he watches you suck on his fingers, eyes dazed and hair strewn about, a thin line of drool trickling from your mouth.

Fuck it. He needs you right here, right now.

He makes quick work of your panties, nearly tearing them in half as he slides them down your legs and pins you against the wall. Bunching the skirt of your beautiful red dress up and around your waist, giving him a full view of your soaked pussy. He wants nothing more than to take his time and taste you, but any moment the two of you can be found. Gotta make this short and sweet for now; save the rest for later at home.

Your fingers fumble with his belt, leaving it loose in the loopholes of his pants, tugging down the zipper and freeing his aching cock. You swirl your thumb around the leaking tip, smearing the bit of precum that’s gathered at the slit. Leaning in to kiss his jaw, whispering for him to fuck you now.

The two of you whine into each other’s mouths as he slides himself in. Your nails dig into his back, legs wound tight around his hips. His wings flutter slightly, each feather trembling with ecstasy. Matching the beat of his heart, so loud he wonders if you can hear it.

“Keigo,” you grind your hips as best you can, eager for any kind of friction, “please…”

He braces himself against the wall, large wings twitching uncontrollably as he sets a brutal pace. Slamming himself into you as hard as he can, pressing you into the wall with every thrust of his hips. You’re nearly sobbing now, tears leaking from your pretty eyes, lips parted with nonstop chants, moans, pleas of his name.

First name, not hero name. Keigo, not Hawks. It’s always been Keigo with you, hasn’t it?

He smiles into your shoulder, suddenly glad he ever shared that part of himself with you.

“K-Keigo, I—”

“Shh, gotta be quiet, birdie.” He presses his palm to your lips, meeting your teary eyes with a smirk. “Don’t want anyone to find us, do you?”

You shake your head no, but the eager squeeze of your pussy nearly has his eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

“Oh, of course you do,” he almost laughs right then and there, still rutting into you like an animal in heat. “Bet you’d like that, huh? Someone to walk in and see you all spread out for me, so fucking wet and needy…”

He’s close, he can feel it; can never shut up when he gets like this. But your needs come first and foremost, no matter what. So he holds you up with one arm, sliding his gloved hand down to your bare clit. Drawing tight circles around the bud with his fingers, eager to bring you to your peak.

You twist and shudder in his hold, nails and heels digging into him, face scrunched up in pleasure. “Keigo—fuck, ‘m coming—”

“’S okay, pretty birdie—you can come, come for me, please—”

You reach your high first, clamping down like a vice around his cock, trembling in his arms as pure bliss courses through your veins. You’re so fucking beautiful, more than he could possibly put into words—and the sight of you losing yourself on his cock has him coming on the spot, groaning into your neck and pushing you up against the wall.

Neither of you move at first, too preoccupied with holding each other as tightly as you can. But then the sweat and mess below get to him, and he’s sliding out of you with a pitiful moan of your name. His wings are quivering, but he forces his feathers to move to clean up the place a little bit. Rearranging the nearby shelf, picking up anything that might’ve fallen in the midst of your lovemaking. Snatching up your discarded panties and discreetly slipping them into his back pocket.

“I expect those back by the time we get back out there.” But there’s no bite to your words, nothing but a lazy, satisfied smile on your face as he lowers you onto your shaky legs. Letting you lean on his chest before straightening up your dress. “Don’t wanna go back out there wearing nothing at all.”

But he shakes his head, allowing you to slip his jacket back over his shoulders. “Nah, I can grab a fresh pair from your place. It’s not too far away, I don’t mind!”

“Then if that’s the case, just fly me home right now!”

“Birdie, you know I would,” he says almost sadly, brushing a few stray pieces of hair from your face, “but rules are rules. I don’t want either of us to get in trouble.”

“Even more than we already are,” you mumble, and he giggles before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Maybe so. Now wait here, I’ll be back in two minutes flat. Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone, alright?”

You roll your eyes and nod your head, and he kisses your forehead before opening the door as slowly as he can. Glancing at both ends of the hallway before slipping out, sending a sly wink your way.

“See you in a bit, birdie.”

And then he’s off, leaving only a gust of wind in his wake, and maybe one or two stray feathers with you to keep you safe. You watch him go, still dazed and drunk on love, leaning against the wall with heated cheeks. Leaving you to admire just how damn pretty he still looks in that suit of his.

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 5

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+ only. Oral sex (F receiving). Masturbation (M). Cum play. Fingering. Swearing. Truck sex. Detailed nightmare involving choking and death. Vomiting.

Summary: More days of bliss continue for you and Will, including a proper date where lustful feelings are balanced with hesitations, and another nightmare brings things crashing down.

A/N: Well, I managed to write another chapter before it was a year since it had been updated 😅 Thank you to everyone who continues to show interest in this story and for voting for it to be the fic to be updated next 💗 Extending an even bigger thank you to the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels who gifted me these absolutely stunning headers to use!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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The slow, lazy drawl of his words were like liquid gold; warm, welcoming and melting over you, the appellation ‘sweetheart’ he'd given you something you were quickly growing accustomed to and hoped you would wake up hearing every morning.

But his greeting was nothing compared to the way he made you feel as he met his mouth against your spread cunt, his smooth, searing tongue licking a broad stroke through your folds that held remnants of him from the night before.

Your mouth opened to say something in return, but all that came out was a sharp gasp that quickly turned into a drawn out moan, your arm extending to grip at Will’s hair where your fingers held onto it tightly, your hips lifting up to push against his face.

You felt him hum against your flesh, his approval of your blatant need for more reverberating through you, his hunger evident as he eagerly ate at you.

Continuing to writhe to the generous movements of his tongue, you opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling, digging your head back into the pillow as you succumbed to every assault on your sensitive sex, the white plaster now blurred through your eyes.

Will wrapped his arms around both your thighs, pulling them down to the mattress to spread you further apart, securing his hold on you despite you moving wildly from pleasure. He latched onto your clit, sucking and flicking at it until your breathy moans grew into cries, feeling your body lurch and lift off the bed in an attempt to resist his grasp to keep you in place.

His ferocity only increased, the taste of your slick coating his tongue and soaking his beard encouraging him, feeling starved for something he never knew would be possible of craving this much, everything about you addicting him like nothing in his life had ever before.

The sheets pulled under your body as your hands left his head and fell to them, clawing at them desperately and bunching them up until your nails felt sore, your whole body tensing and trying to escape this barrage only to have such intense ecstasy take hold of you almost as if it was against your will.

There was no way for you to attempt to keep quiet, not caring a single bit if Benny happened to be home and heard what surely sounded like Will was killing you, your body and mind unable to restrain the pleasure the older Miller provided even if you wanted to.

And then the Captain kept going.

You bucked against his face as he landed one knee on the bed, the dip of it registering his weight and power in your fucked-out brain, the thrill of knowing this man could do whatever he wanted to you without a struggle both scaring and exciting you.

Will buried his face in you even more, pushing his talented mouth and tongue deeper in your soppy cunt, his shoulders pressing hard on the backs of your thighs while his arms continued to lock around your hips, keeping you from backing away from him.

Low, satisfied moans sounded from him the more he devoured you, adding to the delirium of lust that was taking over every part of you, knowing he was enjoying this just as much as you were igniting the fire that quickly erupted into a second orgasm.

He growled into you as you wildly rode his face, his fingers digging into your flesh to force you to ride out every second of it as intensely as possible, his tongue keeping the same consistent pace and pattern that brought you to your high in the first place.

Your back arched off the bed, your hands reaching for any part of him you could make purchase on, grabbing his shoulders and arms and finally landing on his head, your nails raking over his scalp as you applied pressure that kept him in place.

Will didn't stop until he felt your body relax around him, your tensed muscles and limbs falling slack around him, his fervid actions slowed to gentler kisses and softer licks while his hands rubbed you soothingly.

“Oh my god,” you said through a small laugh, one of your hands resting on your forehead as you took in how impossibly good that was, the other giving his firm bicep a squeeze.

Will chuckled as he sat upright, looking down at you hungrily while he pushed your knees flat against the bed to keep you spread out for him.

His face and beard glistened with your slick, and his cock was leaking excessively from the tip, the sight of him throbbing and full of so much want for you making your heart swell and hammer in your chest.

Your mouth watered as you watched him take hold of himself, rubbing his thumb over the smooth dome before running his hand down the length, his eyes falling closed at the relief he felt at finally addressing the ache between his legs.

Will began pumping his dick slowly, only to increase the pace after a minute, his eyes opening to look at you with a crooked, lustful smirk.

“You're so fucking hot, sweetheart,” he complimented, his gaze trailing from your tits that you languidly touched down to where your pussy was laid out and open for him to do whatever he wanted with.

You smiled, your breathing becoming more laboured as you got worked up watching him jerk himself off, his chest rising and falling sharply in time with yours.

“You want that load on you?” he panted, his voice gruff in his question.

“Yes,” you confirmed with an eager nod, your arousal billowing through you again.

“Where do you want it?”

You pinched at your nipple, moaning as you wiggled on the sheets before him, your body his to use however he pleased.

“Anywhere.”

The muscles in Will’s cheeks flinched as he clenched his teeth tightly together, his arm that pumped away at his cock flexing admirably, and his eyes fell to your hole that oozed with your creamy slick, his target chosen with a darkness clouding his blue irises.

He angled his hips slightly closer to you, aiming his shot at you right as the first of his cum spurt out and landed on your clit, then on your inner thigh, the rest of it exploding onto your folds.

Will wasted no time in swiping up his hot spend with two of his fingers and driving it inside you, making you cry out and jolt to his aggressive touch.

You quivered and shook, unable to control any sounds or movements made, your eyes squeezed shut as he finger fucked you hard.

“That's it, baby,” he encouraged roughly. “You're still gonna end up full of my cum, you little slut.”

You could hear the amusement in his tone, and you opened your eyes to see him focused on his task, continuing to drive all of his load inside you each time we pulled his fingers out and pushed them back in again, the slipperiness of it on your overstimulated cunt throwing you over the edge.

The euphoria was blinding and more intense than the two he gave you before it, feeling a rush of wet release from you as you rocked on his hand, his grunts and moans barely registering in your ringing ears.

“Fuck, Will!” you cried, breathless and heaving as you came down hard from your high, feeling the soaked sheets under you and seeing the tattoo on his forearm shining, the ink darkened and saturated.

He climbed through your mess as he lowered himself overtop of you, covering your sated, numb form with his, his weight welcoming after having such an otherworldly experience. Cradling your heated cheek in his hand, he captured your lips with his, transferring your tangy taste onto your tongue from his mouth and beard, both of you moaning slowly as you deepened your kiss and savoured each breathless second.

It had been nearly another full day before you returned home, Will driving you back to your car where it had been abandoned in the gym parking lot after he had whisked you away to his house, neither of you wishing for the fantasy of staying in his bed to end and being forced to face reality.

As if it hadn’t been impossible already, you found it even more so to distract your thoughts from him, catching yourself daydreaming or smiling to yourself in the midst of any task, knowing you were falling in love far quicker than you could have ever imagined.

It took everything in you not to call or text him first, urging yourself to play it cool and not come on too strong despite everything you had done together being the opposite of that, the worry of spooking Will or letting your hearts take off before your feet had a chance to catch up something you didn’t want to happen.

But it was like he was reading your mind, your phone buzzing on the table behind you as you worked to prep your dinner, quickly dropping your knife and wiping your hands on the tea towel as you watched his name light up your screen with a text.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Dinner tomorrow?

You grinned and pulled your lip between your teeth to try to stifle it, the consideration of waiting a couple of minutes to reply crossing your mind even as your fingers furiously typed out your reply.

I would love that.

Will breathed a sigh of relief as he read your text, happy that you responded right away and that you were wanting to see him again so soon, his mind constantly racing with worry that what you had experienced together had vanished as soon as you had left his house or that he had taken it for more than what it was.

“You need to chill, dude,” Benny muttered from the other side of the kitchen, making Will scowl before putting his phone down and rubbing his hands through his hair.

“If you wanna see her, see her. It’s not that hard.”

Will scoffed a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“That easy, huh?”

Benny smiled and nodded, shrugging his shoulders at the same time he gave Will a look that hinted he was thinking his brother was being ridiculous. “Yeah.”

Will puffed out his cheeks as he sighed again and shifted his weight on his feet.

“I asked her for dinner and she said yes, but I don’t know where to take her.”

“Literally anywhere, man.”

Will ignored his brother’s helpful suggestion, continuing to think out loud.

“The problem is I want to go somewhere nice, you know, but I can’t exactly afford that right now. Fuck, I can hardly afford to get us Big Macs from McDonald’s and that doesn’t exactly scream romance, does it?”

“Jesus Christ, you overthink this shit so much,” Benny accused, stopping from putting away the dishes he just washed to turn and face his brother in hopes of getting his point across and easing Will’s mind. “Judging from what I’ve seen, and heard, so far, just being with you would make her happy.”

Will nodded and glanced down at his feet, wanting to trust what Benny was saying but still having doubts given the history of his love life.

“I don’t want to mess it up, man.”

“I know, and you won’t, but if you keep being all fucking on-edge about it and not just going with it then things won’t happen how they should.”

Will looked up and squinted at his brother, that same nervous feeling he kept having bubbling up inside him again.

“You don’t think we’re moving too fast?”

Benny shrugged again. “Fuck, man, I don’t know. You didn’t ask her to marry you or anything while you were balls deep did you? If it feels right, then it’s right. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Will laughed and shook his head, finding it hard to believe he was putting the fate of his relationship in Benny’s hands and taking his advice.

“Do you think a picnic on the beach is fucking lame?”

“Nah, chicks eat that up. Do that. She’ll love it,” Benny assured him, clapping his hand on Will’s shoulder as he passed by him to walk out of the kitchen.

“Just be careful when you’re fucking in the sand,” he added, winking over his shoulder and laughing.

Will made sure he covered every detail, wanting everything to be perfect despite Benny reassuring him it would be.

Doing a mental checklist as he packed everything up for your date, he placed everything from cutlery, to napkins, glasses and a wine opener into a cooler and bag, double-checking everything was there and he wasn’t forgetting something.

He glanced at his watch as he closed the cooler, seeing he had eight minutes before he said he would be picking you up, knowing the drive to your house was only six and a bit and that he’d rather be early than late, but didn’t want to make you feel rushed.

Deciding it was better to go now before he could second-guess anything else, he grabbed everything and headed out the door to his truck, telling himself he would drive the exact speed limit in order to show up right on time, shouting a quick goodbye to Benny who was in the garage doing pushups and responded with a grunting ‘good luck’.

The nervousness and excitement he felt were equal, trading off with each other what felt like every ten seconds as he drove, the stress he had put on himself to make this date perfect exchanging with how eager he was to see your beautiful smile and hear your sweet voice.

A small bout of panic shocked through his veins when he pulled up to your house, seeing you sitting on your front porch waiting for him, making him steal a glance at both the clock on his dashboard and at his watch to ensure he wasn’t late, only to realize he was still two minutes early and you were clearly just as excited for this as he was.

The smile you gave him as you stood and grabbed a small bag from beside you immediately put him at ease, shifting his truck into park before promptly getting out even though you were already a few steps away.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning in for the hug you initiated, releasing the breath he had sucked in as soon as your arm wrapped around his neck and gave him a firm squeeze.

“Hi,” you whispered against his shoulder, the tone of your voice telling of your relief to be in his arms again.

“Ready?” Will asked, extending his hand to take the bag you held in yours, matching your smile as you nodded and made your way to the passenger side.

Will followed, admiring how gorgeous you looked in your pretty, floral dress, opening the door for you to hop up into the seat.

He placed your bag beside the cooler in the back and then got in, beaming at you as he put on his seatbelt.

“I know you told me not to bring anything, but I had to,” you explained, justifying your reason for not following his request. “I remember you mentioning those cookies you love from that bakery down on Main, and-”

“Seriously?” he blurted, his joy due to your thoughtfulness and from his excitement over the cookies he swore were the best on the planet.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, smiling at his reaction.

“Thank you,” Will spoke quietly, the sincerity in his voice making your heart swell.

You reached over the console and placed your hand on his, giving it a squeeze as he rubbed his thumb over the top of yours, his features soft and his eyes full of something more than just gratitude at your gesture.

Hours ticked by without notice as you laid comfortably on a large blanket on the sand, the warmth held in it from the sun radiating through to your bodies, watching the sky change into bolder hues of orange and pink as night began to settle in.

“This is amazing, Will,” you thanked, feeling so spoiled to have been treated to the most wonderful date you could’ve ever dreamed of.

“I wanted to take you on a proper date,” he began, lacing your fingers together where he fidgeted his against yours as he spoke. “We haven't exactly done things right.”

You looked at him surprised, tilting your head. “No? That’s not what I think.”

Will set his lips in a straight line and let you continue.

“What constitutes something as being right?”

“I don’t even know,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I was in the same relationship for so long and it was so wrong…” He paused, taking a big breath in and then sighing it out. “I just want this to turn out right.”

“I think as long as we’re having fun and feeling good about it, there’s nothing that could be wrong.”

Will nodded his head in agreement, smoothing his thumb across your knuckles. “Isn’t it a bit nuts though? How fast it’s all happening and how good it feels?”

You considered his words, repeating them in your head as you thought up your response. “Yeah, of course I’ve felt that way…almost like it’s too good to be true, but I’m not going to sit and wait for the other shoe to drop and expect it to go south just because things are going so well.”

Will remained silent, clearly processing each word carefully as he always seemed to do.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” you asked, not wanting to make Will feel smothered or scared, recalling your conversation in his bedroom the other day.

“In theory, yeah,” he admitted, “but at the same time I feel like I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then use me until you’ve had your fill,” you offered, knowing you would never regret falling hard and fast for him even if it ended in disaster.

Will’s eyes darkened, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his neck as he swallowed thickly, like he knew no matter how hard the two of you tried, this high level of lust between you would always be present in the midst of all the ways you truly cared for each other, that kind of chemistry not cheapening anything you had together.

Not wanting to say the words you did feel, you propped yourself up on your elbow, leaning over him in order to look at him completely, pulling your entwined hands to rest on your chest where your heart beat rapidly.

“I really like you, Will.”

You wanted to say more, to say everything, but hoped that was enough to assure him that what you thought you had was true, that every touch and kiss and moment spent with him was genuine and real.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward in a smirk, the tension previously held in his face faded away as you brought your lips to his and kissed him, slowly and purposefully, melting into him even more when he reached his hand up to cradle the back of your head to deepen it, his other hand smoothing up your back to press you closer to his body.

Will lifted himself off the blanket, turning so you laid down on it instead, his knee driving between your legs to spread them apart as he settled on top of you.

Your kisses never stopped, alternating between fervid and languid, wanting to consume and savour each other all at once, your hips rolling together eagerly to work you both up into a frenzy.

His hard cock strained through his jeans, humping and rubbing against your cotton panties that were soaked through, your dress lifted up to your midsection where his hands tore at your flesh desperately.

Although he was ready to fuck you into tomorrow right there, the grittiness of the sand that he already felt on his skin reminded him of Benny’s warning, and parting from you reluctantly, Will looked at you spread out beneath him, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“Your place?” he panted, the way you were looking so fuckable making him rethink his decision to relocate somewhere more comfortable.

You gave an enthusiastic nod, both of you quickly gathering and repacking everything you brought in order to get to your house as fast as possible so you could pick up where you left off, the pause in such craveable foreplay almost cruel.

Will threw everything in the bed of his truck without care and turned toward where you stood leaning against the passenger side door, licking his lips before grabbing your face and crashing against you in another heated kiss.

You moaned as your body slammed against the steel, your hands roaming his form that was tacky, his shirt damp on his skin, inhaling deeply in order to try to breathe even more of him in.

Your fingers dug into the thick muscle on his shoulders when his hand slipped down your body and landed between your legs, his long fingers slipping in your panties to run through your slick that coated you.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, always amazed at how wet you were for him.

“I don’t think I can wait,” you breathed, speaking against the shell of his ear as he steadily moved his fingers in and out of your warm and readied hole.

“Me either.”

His response came out as a growl as he removed his fingers from you and opened the door to the backseat, climbing in it to sit and unbuckle his belt and peel the zipper down on his jeans.

Your mouth watered as you watched him lift his ass up off the seat and shimmy his jeans and boxers down, his huge, hard cock springing free.

“Come here,” he beckoned, extending his hand for you to take so he could help you in and position you on his bare lap.

You slammed the door behind you, giggling as you sat down on top of him and reached up to take hold of his scruffy face, kissing him through both your smiles as he chuckled at the same time.

His large hands smoothed up your thighs, dragging your dress up as he went, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips which prompted you to begin moving against him.

You ground down on his length, smearing the viscous arousal that sat heavily in your panties along your aching sex, moaning into his mouth at the sensation that had you seeing stars already.

The truck was sweltering, but neither of you cared, your focus only on each other and your goals of reaching the highest point of pleasure, feeling sweat accumulate at the back of Will’s neck where your fingers danced on his searing skin while your own beaded with moisture that began to drip down your chest.

Will moved his mouth away from yours, angling to kiss along your jawline and down your neck, alternating the press of his lips with an indulgent suck, and when he got to your chest, his tongue glided across your slippery skin in broad swipes, licking your sweat as his hands moved from your hips to tear at the straps of your dress.

In one tug your breasts were exposed, allowing Will to dive his face between them with a low growl, your hands clawing at his head as he took turns rolling his tongue around each of your nipples while you steadily ground on his lap.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you gotta let me in there,” he pleaded, his voice rough and his eyes wild when he peeled himself off your chest and lifted his hips up to press into you more at the same time you bore down on him.

“Yeah?” you teased, rolling yourself harder on his rigid, leaking cock. “How bad do you want it, Miller?”

“Fuck!” he chuckled, bucking up into you compulsively.

He slotted his mouth with yours again before taking your lower lip in his teeth and biting down, pulling until it was released. “I want you so fucking bad, baby.”

You smiled against his lips, “Then have me, Will.”

Without wasting anymore time, Will hooked his fingers in the crotch of your panties and roughly pulled them to the side, taking hold of his cock to guide it to your entrance and watching with furrowed brows and a slack mouth as you sank down over him, taking him inch by inch into your soaked flesh, the sight adding to his craze.

He cursed again, stretching and spreading your lips with his girth, his size causing some resistance even with how wet you were.

Once he was fully seated in you, he let his head fall back on the seat, letting out a relieved moan as he basked in the feeling of being completely encased by your body, holding eye contact with you as he reached up and brushed his thumb on your cheek.

“I missed you,” you spoke, wanting to say more but hoping those three words would portray how much you cared for him, not feeling shy in telling him you craved his presence and felt a void in his absence.

“God, I missed you too,” he answered, placing his hand to cradle the back of your head to bring you closer to him, resting your foreheads together.

You breathed together, the hazy, thick air in the truck making it difficult in addition to how charged everything was between you, and you nudged your nose against his as you whispered. “I missed having you inside me.”

He sighed and brushed his lips on yours, feeling you clench around his cock without otherwise moving, this moment of honest intimacy complimenting the desperation you felt only moments ago to get to this point.

“Yeah?” he asked, flexing within your walls, making you moan and rake your fingers across his scalp, his hands smoothing down your mostly-naked body back to your hips where he took hold of them and started to force you to rock again.

You hummed, that pleasured sound growing to a broken moan as you accepted his guidance and rolled yourself on his cock, your clit rubbing on his wheat coloured pubes that lay against his lower belly, your lips finding each other instinctively where your kiss quickly increased in fervor along with everything else.

The heat was one thing to navigate, but the lack of room in the back seat of his truck was another, Will’s large frame filling it out to the point he didn’t have much space to move, his knees knocking against the back of the seat in front of him. Neither of you cared though, making the most of this steamy moment, focused on making up for the time apart even if it was only less than forty-eight hours since you last had skin-on-skin contact, feeling no shame at all in needing each other this much, this often.

All-in.

The words you had agreed on echoed in your mind, the promise sparking even more arousal in you, feeling the need to prove to him just how true it was with your body and allay any hesitation or doubt he had in his mind.

Your hand pressed up against the upholstered covering on the ceiling as you dug yourself down harder on him, riding him in a pace you knew was close to getting you both, motivated to feel him swell and burst inside you at the same time you crumbled apart on him, your mouth pressing on his firmly as your tongues delved deeper. It fell onto the window, smearing your handprint in the condensation before finding its way back to Will’s body, both of your hands now gripping his broad shoulders for support, your legs burning from your efforts as you kept a steady tempo, feeling your orgasm building deep within you.

Will held onto you tighter, his moans reverberating into your mouth as they increased and his cock released its generous load inside you, coating your walls in thick spurts of his hot spend, the feel of it leaking from you and lubricating you even more tossing you into your own climax.

It was like your mind and body separated from each other, a blinding, numbing effect making your mind go blank while your body acted on its own, continuing to ride him wildly to chase each aftershock at the same time your limbs began to go limp from such intense pleasure that was quickly turning over into exhaustion.

Your chests rose and fell sharply against each other as you panted in search of proper breaths, his hands reaching up to smooth your hair out of your face where it clung to it with sweat, and you opened your eyes to see him smiling weakly, but satiated at you.

His head shook slightly side to side almost in disbelief, his eyes full of ardor and his smile growing to bring out the lines beside his mouth as he watched your own smile stretch across your swollen lips.

“Think we’ll make it to your place now?” he grinned, sending you a wink.

“Hmm, I’m still not sure,” you purred, causing him to raise his eyebrows out of amusement and surprise.

The next two nights went just the same as any other, trading off sleep in favour of sex, your days spent rushing through the work day to meet at the gym to workout together, followed by making dinner before quickly retiring to Will’s bedroom.

Regardless of what little hours of sleep you did manage to get, Will had never felt so rested, your presence and energy bringing him a calm he hadn’t experienced since he joined the military all those years ago, his nightmares becoming less and less to the point he didn't fear his head hitting the pillow each night.

Even though you weren't with him tonight, the effects you left on him still lingered, a sense of ease and contentment gracing him as he climbed into bed, your scent left behind on the pillow that sat next to his to remind him of you as he took a deep breath after settling in.

But it was all short-lived as his mind immediately went to the letter he'd received that morning, one that in theory was good, but tainted what he had just started building with you.

The all-clear was given by his therapist and the U.S. Army to resume active duty, and a date to deploy was typed in bold at the bottom.

Will sighed, splaying out his hand on his stomach that had been closed tightly in a fist, having expected the other shoe to drop in the perfect world he had found with you, just not so soon.

A slight sense of panic began to rise up through him, turning his skin a hue of pink as he broke out in a sweat, his breath shaky when he closed his eyes and focused on the simplicity of inhaling and exhaling, hearing your soothing voice count the seconds in his head rather than his own.

Will promised himself everything would turn out fine, rolling over onto your pillow where he continued choosing to focus on you over the anxieties that were steadily creeping up, the cool air from the fan on the dresser blowing on his hot skin. He breathed out again, as slow as he could manage, imagining you beside him to kiss his worries away and how your bare skin would feel against his in the mix of the humid heat and slight reprieve from the fan, and somewhere between thoughts of you and his imminent deployment, he fell asleep.

Kill.

It’s what he was trained to do.

Everything he knew was predestined to violence and something he never thought twice about in the moment.

Duty.

An order.

A job.

The screams subsided to a wheeze, and as he pressed his forearm harder against the straining neck in front of him, a gasping sound strangled out of the mouth that opened and closed, trying to suck in even the tiniest bit of air.

Hands grabbed and clawed at him, anywhere they could reach, desperate and frantic, their last efforts giving Will a slight struggle as they fought for their life, only to have him force his grip tighter.

Their movements grew sluggish, feeling their body begin to turn limp in his arms, the flailing arms sloppily hitting him as gurgled noises choked out of them.

Then silence.

Will released his hold, only to be fooled, his captive suddenly righting themselves and bolting forward and away from him.

He couldn’t keep up, his feet hardly moving off the spot where he had stood, his assigned hit escaping him and leaving the Delta Force soldier failing in his task.

Then they fell.

By some fate, a rock or ledge in the concrete floor tripped them, their helplessness shown in how their body splayed out weakly and defenselessly.

Confidence erupted in him, each step powerful and booming, closing the gap between the hunter and prey in a few short strides.

Will grabbed the back of their neck and hoisted them easily off the ground, flipping them over so he could see the face that had almost made a mockery out of him.

It wasn't any one given person. A mix of faces he's seen over the years. Features of those he caught glimpses of before completing their execution.

His hand clamped around their throat, crushing their windpipe with a compression that felt superhuman, watching their bloodshot eyes bulge involuntarily, the blood vessels in them and in their face bursting with each second he cut off their air.

More attempts to claw and rip his hand from them, only to flounder, forcing Will to add his other hand to accomplish his goal.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the moment to pass, feeling their resistance slacken under his palms, their engorged pulse that pumped wildly against his fingers slowing.

Then he heard it.

A voice so familiar he could pick it out anywhere.

It was so faint, but clear as day.

“Will!” they called.

You called.

His eyes tore open, only to see your lifeless face resting in his hands.

Will shot up out of bed with a scream, his entire body drenched in sweat, gasping and gulping for a breath he couldn’t catch.

Your pillow was wrung up in his hands, his grip still so tight on the prop used to mimic your throat, the shock of what he’d just dreamt making him toss it across the room as a heavy wave of nausea hit him like a ton of bricks.

Will gagged as he flew out of bed and bolted to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to be sick, his entire body lurching and heaving as those images continued to haunt him.

When he was sure he had nothing left to throw up, he collapsed on the floor, his back thudding against the vanity, rubbing his hand over his eyes and face in an attempt to wipe away the tears and sweat that mixed together.

Your face that was stilled by death kept flashing through his mind regardless if he opened or closed his eyes, feeling tortured by his own self for creating such a nightmare let alone continuing to torment him with it even after waking up.

He rocked against the cabinet, tearing his hands through his hair, his sobs coming out loud and uncontrollably.

He needed to see you, needed to know if you were okay, that life still breathed through you and you'd look back at him with the love and kindness in your eyes that you always did, your smile bright and vibrant, but he couldn't move. Frozen in place, he couldn't even manage to get back to his room to get his phone and call you, his terror and false grief immobilizing him.

Eventually the sound of Benny’s footsteps coming in registered in his pounding head, feeling his brother's hand rest on his shoulder before sinking down to the floor to sit beside him, his silence a comfort that Will knew he could always rely on.

---

Part 6

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