#i drew it so that they have different eyes

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 who do you love? . • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- mistress! reader goes bonkers and films a surprise video for Rafe and his wife's anniversary. ۶ৎ

warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut (unprotected p i v), breeding kink, video voyeurism, infidelity, mention of alcohol usage, age gap, cursing, pussy whipped! rafe, homegirl is... yeah

other woman masterlist |taglist | based on this ask | wc: 1.7k

You knew exactly what you were doing when you typed her name into Facebook's search bar. Your fingers moved with purpose, guided by an obsession you couldn't shake.

There it was - Rafe's wife's profile, and right at the top, exactly what you'd been hunting for: a fresh post celebrating their decade of marriage, complete with a photo from their younger days when their love still seemed pure and untainted. You stared at their beaming faces, letting the bitterness wash over you.

Each scroll feels like turning a knife in your own heart, but you can't stop.

Their life unfolds before you like some twisted fairy tale: Rafe teaching their daughter to ride a bike, their annual trips to the Maldives, their matching Christmas sweaters with those damn Dobermans.

And her—always her—wearing that diamond tennis bracelet you once saw in his browser history, claiming the life that should have been yours.

This should be me, the thought burns like acid.

Your fingers hover over a photo of their Mediterranean cruise, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest, that massive engagement ring catching the sunset.

She has everything: the weekend brunches at that fancy place downtown, the Range Rover you've seen in their driveway, the three beautiful children with his eyes, the garden parties you watch from afar, and him—God, especially him.

The life that slipped through your fingers because of timing and trust funds. She had everything you didn't: old money, country club connections, and most crucially—age.

While you were still learning to drive, she was already the perfect socialite, the appropriate choice for a man of Rafe's standing. The Seventeen-year age gap between you and Rafe might as well have been an ocean—one that she had already crossed long before you even learned to swim.

Sometimes you wonder if that's what drew him to you in the first place: your youth, your naivety, everything that made you so different from her. Everything that ultimately made you impossible.

Your wine glass is empty again. When did that happen?

A tear escaped your eye as jealousy carved deeper into your chest, the pain spreading until you could barely breathe. Your trembling fingers found your phone, muscle memory still remembering his number after all these years. You knew it was wrong—God, you knew—but you pressed call anyway.

One ring. Two rings. Your heart threatened to burst.

"Hello?" His voice, still so familiar, sent electricity through your body.

"I—" your voice cracked, "I need to see you, Rafe. Please. I can't… I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so alone tonight. Please come over, I need you."

The silence that followed felt eternal—like light years away, stretching between your world and his, filled with everything unsaid.

You could picture him there, standing in his perfect house with his perfect family just rooms away, probably running his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was conflicted.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you heard him move, presumably stepping outside or into his study. Then came that familiar sound—the slow exhale through his nose that you remembered from countless late nights together, when difficult decisions hung in the air between you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that might have been regret or desire or both: "I'm on my way."

Three simple words that shattered whatever remained of your resolve. You ended the call before he could change his mind, before reality could catch up to either of you, before guilt could claw its way back in.

Your hands shook as you set the phone down, knowing that in fifteen minutes—twenty at most—you'd hear his car in your driveway, and everything would change again.

When he steps through your door, the world narrows to just this: his loosened tie, your trembling hands, the soft thud as his back hits the wall. "We shouldn't," he whispers, even as his fingers dig into your hips, even as he pulls you closer.

You silence his protest with a kiss that tastes like regret and wanting, knowing tomorrow will bring guilt but tonight—tonight belongs to muscle memory and bad decisions.

Your hands roam greedily over each other, ripping clothes away with primal urgency. Your mouths hungrily devour one another, teeth nipping at lips as you guide him to the bedroom. Your heart races with desire and anticipation, knowing what awaits in the heat of passion.

The phone you carefully propped against the lamp earlier blinks silently in the darkness, its camera catching everything. You position him perfectly in its view, letting him think it's just desire guiding your movements.

"God, I've missed you," he breathes against your collar bone, completely unaware that every word, every moan, every mistake is being captured. You almost feel guilty—almost.

Then you think of her Facebook shrine to their perfect marriage, and something shifts inside you—guilt crystallizing into purpose.

Your phone keeps recording in the darkness, anticipating to capture every betrayal, every whispered confession.

Soon, her perfectly filtered life won't matter anymore. Soon, you'll have something far more precious than any photograph: Rafe—cornered, desperate, and finally yours.

Without hesitation, you shoved Rafe onto your queen size bed. Straddling his naked body, you disregarded any notion of foreplay.

As much as you craved the feeling of his tongue on your clit or his thick fingers probing you, all that mattered was having Rafe's cock buried in your cunt.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. You really do need me," Rafe smirked as his palm immediately found its way to your dripping core, but to your dismay was swatted away.

With a seductive grin, cooed in your sweet, high-pitched voice that made Rafe's brain mush. "Un huh, now be a good boy and let me take care of myself," you purred, guiding his rock-hard cock to the entrance of your wetness.

"Are you going to let me do that?" Your tone was condescending, but it only fueled the intense desire between you both, and because Rafe's mind turned to mush the moment you said you needed him, he nodded, totally pussy whipped and enamored by you.

The sharp gasp that escaped both of your lips was matched only by the intensity of your desire.

Slowly, you sank down onto Rafe's throbbing cock, savoring the feeling of him stretching you just as he always did.

"You're so tight, baby," he groaned out, his voice dripping with lust.

As you remembered the phone set up hidden by your side table lamp, a mischievous thought crossed your mind:

"Am I tighter than your wife?" you asked, already beginning to rock your hips on his length. Naturally, Rafe's hands found their way to your waist, not to guide you but to bring you closer to his lips.

"So much tighter, shit," he breathed out between hot kisses, with each agonizing slow rock.

"You're gonna leave her for me, huh?" you asked, face to face with Rafe, cradling his jaw to peck his lips. Slowly, you began to pick up the pace. 

Your rhythmic movements escalate into frenzied bouncing, his hard length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit. You lift yourself up and press down on Rafe's chest for leverage, driving him deeper and harder into you

Rafe's eyes rolled back as you bounced harder, your pussy gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, I… I don't know," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.

You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll leave her. Tell me I'm the only one you want." Your walls clenched around him for emphasis, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.

"God, yes," Rafe panted, completely lost in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. "I'll leave her. You're all I want, fuck!"

Hearing those words sent a thrill through you. You began to bounce faster, slamming yourself down onto his thick cock with abandon. Your breasts bounced enticingly and Rafe reached up to cup them, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

"Say it again," you demanded breathlessly, grinding your hips in circles. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, baby," Rafe panted, thrusting up to meet your movements. "All fucking yours."

You leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to ride him relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your shared moans of pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me?" you asked, clenching your walls around him. "Gonna fill me up? Gonna give me one of your babies?"

"Yeah, gonna stuff your sweet pussy with my hot load, fuck, I'm about to explode," Rafe moaned, his nails digging into your flesh, leaving red marks on your hips.

You reached down to rub tight circles on your clit, chasing your own release. "Me too, don't stop," you gasped.

With a few more forceful thrusts, you both toppled over the brink together, moaning in bliss as powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Rafe followed suit, releasing his hot and sticky load inside you, filling you up completely.

The afterglow lasts exactly thirty seconds before Rafe is already reaching for his clothes, his movements quick and efficient like this is just another business meeting wrapping up, breathing hasn't even steadied.

"I need to get back," he says, checking his watch. "We have dinner reservations at La Maison."

"Of course. The anniversary dinner." Your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. "Rafe?" He pauses, shirt half-buttoned. "Did you mean any of it? What you said while we were…?"

He crosses the room, cups your face, and plants a soft kiss on your lips—the kind that feels like goodbye. Then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.

You sit in the twisted sheets, his warmth already fading, listening to his car fade into the distance. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone and stop the recording. The email address you've had memorized for months appears in the recipient field without hesitation. You attach the video—forty-three minutes of undeniable truth—and watch the upload bar creep forward. In the subject line, you type five words that will demolish their perfect life: "Happy Anniversary, From Us Both."

Your finger hovers over 'send' for just a heartbeat before pressing down. Let her enjoy those reservation plans now.

Now he'll have to choose, you think, watching the loading bar reach 100%. And this time, he'll choose me.

a/n -- thanks for making it to the end, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore

[jarofstyles]

Benefits

Hi lovebugs! This can be read as a standalone, but this is a 3 parter. The first part will be put up here but the next two are Patreon exclusives if you’re interested. (Part two is up now) I hope you guys love it.

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WC- 6.6k

Warnings- Asshole-ish H, smut, slight degrading, oral, slight possessiverry, etc

She knew he was watching.

A subtle smirk played on her lips as she helped herself to a drink in the kitchen, nearly able to feel the man’s eyes on her as he traced her dress. One she wore just for him, but would never admit to. He wasn’t good about hiding how much he watched her, how much he had been curious about her, but he hadn’t talked much to her. Only stared.

She'd been warned that Harry was a man of few words. He didn't go out of his way to talk, he was the stereotype of tall, dark, handsome and dangerous-but it's exactly what she's been craving. Twisting the lid back onto the mixer, she finally raised the cup to her lips as she turned around to face him. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was watching her. His eyes didn't stray. He liked that she didn't waver in her staring back, too. Y/N could tell.

It had been a long time since a man had properly excited her. She wasn’t exactly the easiest to please, if she was being honest. Y/N got bored easily, she liked to play games, to test people to see if they could handle her- but something about Harry had her fully understanding that he could handle her, no problem. Maybe it was just the look in his eyes that told her he was intrigued by her but also wanted to eat her alive, but she quite liked it.

Her eyes flirted with his, as she slowly took a sip, her throat bobbing delicately. "I think you're enjoying the view." Her voice was sultry, a taunt. She was baiting him, daring him to respond, to engage. The game of cat and mouse had been fun, but she wanted to be caught. "You're not very good at hiding it."

“M’not trying to hide it.” His raspy voice made her internally peek up. She’d only heard it a handful of times but each one had nearly had her purring. The man had the voice of her wet dreams, and she sort of hated how he was checking off boxes she had purposely put too high.

A small smirk played on her lips as she set the cup down, her hands moving to rest on the counter. She leaned forward, her arms stretching out in front of her, very aware she was very generously handing over a view of her chest for him to glaze over. "Is that so?" She asked, matching his tone. "You're just going to stand there and stare at me then?" The challenge was laid out softly, despite the tension in the room.

“Mm. I was enjoying the view.” His body was leaned against the cabinets of the kitchen, no shame at all in admitting the fact. “Think y’like when I look.”

Her eyes traveled up his face and met his eyes, a slow blink the only reaction to his words. She liked it, damn it. She liked being the focus of his attention, even if he wasn't saying anything particularly sweet or romantic. There was something about his blunt honesty that drew her in. "And what if I told you I don't like it?" She asked, her voice a gentle purr. "What would you do then?"

“I’d tell you t’stop looking like that and maybe we could come to an agreement.” His eyes kept contact with no issue, challenging her back. “I know you’ve been looking back at me when y’think I’m not going to notice.”

God, he was hot. It was infuriating, really. Men weren’t supposed to effect her like this. She’d always had the upper hand, but this one had her wavering as she reached up to twist a strand of her hair around her finger. "And what kind of agreement would that be?" She asked with a soft tilt to her voice. She loved the way he spoke, the way his accent rolled off his tongue. It was so…different to the general population of men she was used to. Some could accuse her of being excited over having a new flavor at her fingertips, but Y/N would argue that anyone who got a few moments alone with him would feel that level of excitement prickle their nerves. "One where I stop looking at you and you start talking to me?" The girl suggested, the small smirk playing on her lips growing.

“Perhaps.” Crossing his arms, he stood up off the counter and slowly sauntered over to her. “Was tryin’ to figure you out. Don’t get new additions in the group often, and you’re different than the people we’re usually around.” His tall form had her lifting her head a bit to keep his eyes as he stopped in front of her.

 She’d been right. He was taller than she’d thought, and broader. The man had kept a physical distance before, but now she was feeling the effects of him dropping that barrier. He was just so…large. And it made her feel small, which was a feeling she rarely experienced. "And what have you figured out?" She asked softly, tilting her head to the side as her eyes fluttered to his lips briefly before meeting his eyes again.

“I’ve figured out a couple of things.” Taking another step forward he gave her the chance to move if she wanted- but she didn’t. Backing against the counter, she didn’t shy away from him. “Mostly that you’re a little bit bratty, but you aren’t fake. You’ve been mostly nice t’everyone.” It had been a relief. Harry wouldn’t have been shy about calling her out on ulterior motives, but he only knew of one- and it had come after she’d already met everyone. “And you want me t’fuck you.”

She swallowed hard, her heart in her throat as he took another step forward. Again, she could have moved, but she didn't. Instead, she stayed put, her back against the counter as she met his gaze. His words were blunt, and she liked that about him. Most people would sugarcoat things, but not him. "And what if I do?" She asked, her voice faltering slightly for the first time in a long time. It was so different, but...She liked it. He had managed to get her to feel something different. Naturally making her feel a little more submissive when she had been so used to taking in the opposite role. 

“I’d fuck you.” Harry rose a shoulder in a shrug. “I’ve wanted to do it since I met you. Had to figure out if you were someone who was going to stick around.” The tension was thick between them. “I don’t usually fuck people just once. Don't like to think with my dick. But I think you’d want it more than once.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the heat pooling between her legs at his words. She’d known he wanted her by the way he had looked at her body, but hearing him say it out loud had her insides quivering. He was so…crude and it was so hot. "I’d want it more than once." She admitted breathlessly. She wasn’t one to shy away from the fact. "And how many times do you think it would be?"

“I’m not in the business of letting you nut off and fuck off. If m’fucking you, you’ll be in my bed for hours. I don’t go easy.” It was the truth she needed to hear. Harry wasn’t one to half ass sex, and considering he’d been letting the want fester for a bit now, he had plenty of things he wanted to do for her. “Is that something you can handle?”

Her throat was dry, her voice hoarse as she responded, "Hours? That sounds...nice." She wanted to tell him that she could handle anything he threw at her, but she knew he'd only call her bluff. She'd never had a man talk to her like this before when she had confidence he could actually back up the claims, and it was exciting. Y/N wanted to know what else he'd say, what else he'd do. "And if I can't? What happens then?"

“Then I’ll walk away and let you continue your night. M’not going to do any of that if it isn’t what you can take, or isn’t what you want.” He made no effort to move, though, because he already knew what her answer is going to be. “You’re not gonna make it weird for everyone else in the group after we fuck, yeah? You’ll be able to behave yourself whenever we go out for the stupid dinners and drinks?”

She swallowed hard, his words making her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. The way he was talking to her, the intensity in his eyes, it was all so new and thrilling. "I can handle anything you give me." She said softly, her voice filled with a confidence she didn't quite feel but wanted to project. "And I can behave myself. I'm not some teenager who's going to go running to the group about this."

“Just got t’be sure, Cherry.” Lifting a finger up towards her bottom lip, he smeared the lipstick with his thumb before pulling it back. “You don’t seem to be the kiss and tell type, but you never know.”

Her eyes fluttered closed briefly as his thumb brushed against her bottom lip, again the action so simple yet so hot. A little invasive- in a good way. She couldn't help but part her lips slightly, inviting him to touch her more. "I'm not. And besides, who would I tell?" She asked softly.

“That’s the right answer.” He sighed, taking a second to look over his shoulder and back to her face. “C’mon then. M’not fucking you here. Don’t want you to have to keep quiet. If I’m fucking you, I want to hear you.” Curling his hand around the back of her neck, he brought her out the back door. “S’a short walk.”

——-

He had a nice house. Smaller, with a porch and garage. Newly painted, lawn maintained and a little tree in the front. It wasn’t the bachelor pad she had expected, but she really didn’t know that much about him- did she? That was becoming more apparent the longer she spent near him. 

“C’mon. Inside.” He unlocked the door and ushered her in, relieving them from the chill of the night. “Shouldn’t go out without a jacket next time.” The grumble seemed to make her laugh as he tossed his keys into the bowl, kicking his shoes haphazardly on the mat. She hadn’t expected to go on a stroll, so she had left the jacket in her car- but he didn’t really care about that. “Do you want a drink? Or do you just want to get into it?”

Her eyes scanned the cozy interior of his home, taking her even further by surprise. No, it wasn’t the bachelor pad at all. It was tidy and clean, with a few personal touches that gave her a glimpse into what was probably his actual personality. She noticed a guitar in the corner, a few books on a shelf, and a framed photo on the mantle that she couldn’t quite make out. “Huh?” The place had warmth she hadn’t expected to see, and the distraction was evident as she vaguely heard him ask something.

“Do you want me t’get you a drink, or do you want me to get to fucking you?”

Her attention snapped back to him, his words making her blush. Honestly? She really did love how blunt he could be, no sugarcoating or beating around the bush. It was so common to have people be coy about what they wanted, but then again Harry wasn’t anything close to most people she had met.  "Oh, um, I think I'll go with the second option," Her words came out slightly shy, with a hesitant smile. She looked around the room again, taking in the details, before her gaze landed back on him. "But first, can I ask you something?"

“Yeah.” He grunted, taking a step into her space and putting his hands on her waist as he backed her further into the home. “Make it quick. Dick’s fucking aching.”

Her breath hitched as he moved closer, his hands on her waist making her feel small and delicate. She licked her lips, hesitation flickering in her eyes before she asked, "It’s just…Why me? You've barely said two words to me before tonight. And now...here we are." She trailed off, nibbling her lip. A nervous tell.

“Because I was trying t’see if you were someone that was going to stick around.” He said bluntly. “Lots of people pop in and back out. Didn’t know if you’d be one of the floaters. Got to watch you and see how you were before I talked to you. I wanted to see what you’d say.” While some could call it a little creepy, he’d more so put it as educating himself for the best result. “Wasn’t sure you’d be okay with me fucking you. Some people can’t handle me or how I talk. You’re a sweet little thing but I can tell you like some of the nasty shit. So we’d most likely get along.”

She blinked at him, processing his blunt words. A small, almost imperceptible shiver ran through her body at his assessment. He had been watching her, evaluating her...and apparently found her worthy of letting her see a whole different side of him. Y/N hadn’t pushed her luck in regard to asking about him but she figured there wasn’t much people would say anyways. It was obvious to her through her own observations that he had been quiet about a lot on purpose. Considering there were a few people in the group that did indeed find him incredibly attractive, it was more than exciting that he had chosen her- mirrored her own quiet interest. The thought sent a thrill down her spine. 

"I...I appreciate your thoroughness," she said, a slight tremor in her voice, though trying to still appear confident in the way she had tried to portray. It wasn’t an act- she really was like that- but Harry had that little edge to him that made her want to soften up. "And you're right, I can handle you. I like a man who knows what he wants."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “And what do you want, specifically?” Her voice was low, almost breathy as she looked up at him. “With me?” His words had given her a lot to think about. The way he had evaluated her, the way he had found her worthy all while barely knowing her, and the way he had so bluntly admitted that he wanted her around for more than just a one-night stand. But she wanted to hear it all.

“I want to have an arrangement between the two of us. Told you, m’not someone who fucks people once. Not sure if m’looking for a relationship, but I want to like the person I’m fucking.” It was convinent for a release, having an understanding. “We’ve obviously got physical chemistry, find each other attractive and have the same friends. I think…” He leaned his face closer to hers. “We should be friends that fuck. Often.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze locked onto his. "Friends with benefits," she clarified softly. "No strings attached, but...exclusivity?" She wanted to know that she was the only one he was sleeping with, even if they weren't in a traditional relationship. "And we can still hang out with our mutual friends, just...without them knowing the details?" She bit her lip, considering the proposition.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me, I don’t have the time to find other people to fuck. Work a lot, and I’ve got particular taste. I don’t want to worry about you fucking around either. Too much shit goes around. Eventually I’d like to ditch the condoms.” He shrugged, firmly gripping her waist to pick her up and set her on the hallway table. “It’ll be nice. You can just… Call me when you need to be fucked. I’ll call you. Scratch the itch. The rest don’t have to know a thing.”

She let out a soft sigh as he set her on the table, her arms wrapping around his neck as he towered over her. "Alright," she agreed, her heart racing at the thought of being exclusive with him. "Just you and me, no strings, no other people involved." She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. "And...no labels either, right? We're just friends who fuck, nothing more."

“Right. As long as you know that cunt’s mine to fuck for now, I’m happy.” He chuckled under his breath, nudging her thighs apart. “You wore this dress for me, didn’t you?” Fingers dragged up her inner thigh as he questioned her. “Cause you wanted my attention.”

She let her legs fall open, her breath hitching as he nudged her thighs apart. Her heart fluttered at his words, her insides clenching at the possessiveness in his voice. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she knew she had. When the confirmation that he had been coming had been dropped in the group text, she had taken getting ready a bit more seriously. Though she hadn’t expected this to be the outcome. Not in the slightest. "Yes, it was for you," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper as he touched her thigh. "I hoped you’d like it.” She squirmed, her legs spreading further. "Did you?

“Decided to take you home, didn’t I?” Shaking his head, he let out a sigh as he watched her squirm. “Course I fuckin’ liked it. But you’ve been taunting me, and you weren’t subtle about it either. Figured I had to ask you now.” Ghosting his fingertips along the hem of her panties, he tangled his other hand in the ends of her hair to tug her head back. “Could tell you were starting to get a little desperate.”

She moaned softly as he pulled her head back, her eyes fluttering closed briefly before locking onto his again. "Well, you were staring at me like you wanted to eat me alive," she retorted, her voice breathy. "So...yeah, maybe I was getting a little desperate." She bit her lip, shifting her hips forward. "So, are you going to touch me now?"

His touch was gentle, almost torturously so, as he ran his fingertips over the damp fabric. His eyes were locked onto hers, watching her reactions intently. "You're so eager. Though m’not so sure I like the sass. I’ll do as I like, and you can tell me how good it feels." he murmured, his thumb pressing down on her through the thin material. "I bet you're dripping, aren't you?" His touch grew firmer, ever so slowly rubbing his thumb over her clit.

Her breath hitched, her hips bucking forward to meet his touch. She hadn’t been sure how he would be in this sort of scenario, but it was better than she imagined. It took a special sort of man to make her feel even the slightest bit submissive and she almost melting. "Y-yes," she stammered, her voice slightly shaky. It was embarrassing how wet she got for him before he’d even touched her. "I'm...I'm soaking for you." Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as her head fell back against the wall.

She could feel his touch like a brand through the thin fabric, her legs spreading wider to grant him better access. Her breath came in short gasps, her chest heaving with each breath. "Please," she whimpered, her hips moving in rhythm with his touch. "It's not enough..."

“Greedy.” He laughed through his nose. “I was curious how you’d be once I got my hands on you. You talk a big game, like t’be a tease… but in reality, you’re a desperate little slut, hm?” It was the most he’s ever spoken to her, but she couldn’t complain when his words went straight to her cunt.

"I can’t help it! You started it.” She gasped as he found a rhythm, her body tensing as his fingers tugged the panties to the side, slipping under the fabric. "Oh god…” She moaned, her body tensing as his calloused fingertips grazed her bare flesh.  His words made her squirm, her body trembling as he slid a long, thick finger inside her.

“I didn’t start anything.” His voice was contained, even as he spoke with the smug little smirk on his face. “I told you, I needed t’figure you out. I hoped you’d be like this…” Looking down to where his hand was hidden between her legs, slowly pushing his finger in and out of her sopping wet cunt, he licked over his bottom lip. “Desperate. Melt at the slightest touch. You rejected everyone who came up to you at the bars when they wanted to take you home but you love t’flirt. You knew they wouldn’t be able to give you what you needed- so you waited for me to move in.”

"Mmmm…” She let out a moan as he slipped another finger inside her. "They can’t handle me. They want to try but I don’t want someone to try- I want them to do it.” she whimpered, rocking her hips into his hand. "You’re wrong, you did start it.” She gasped out, her back arching as he crooked his fingers to graze against that sweet spot inside her. "You walked in and you...you just stared at me like you owned me.”

“Because I did.” He leaned forward, letting their lips brush. “And now I do. This wet little cunt is mine to fuck for now. Got all slick before I had even laid my hands on you, fucking filthy.” He sneered. “Listen to that.” The sound of his fingers fucking into her were audible beneath her pants.

The squelching sound of his fingers pumping in and out of her quivering hole echoed through the room, a lewd melody that grew louder with each thrust. Her own wetness made his digits glisten, the sound of her coating his skin becoming embarrassingly audible. Every push into her tight hole was met with a wet slap of his palm over her clit, punctuated by her short breaths and gasps.

"It is your fault!" She hissed, her voice strained as she tried to keep quiet. "You kept staring at me like…like you wanted to devour me. It's not fair!" Her hips jerked forward as he increased the pace, her hand flying to his shoulders to steady herself. "You're gonna make me come like this." She hissed, her nails digging into his shirt.

“Then cum.” He taunted. “If it’s all my fault that your desperate pussy got all sloppy and wet, cum on my fingers and show me that then. Barely even touched you and you’re clenching all around my fingers.”

Her breath hitched, her face flushing with heat. "Oh god, shut up..." She hissed, her hips bucking against his hand as he curled his fingers inside her, getting the spot she couldn’t get on her own. "H-Harry… Fuck." She let out a high-pitched cry as she finally shattered, her inner muscles tightening around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Her body trembled as the intense pressure building inside her finally broke. Her inner walls clamped down around his fingers, squeezing them as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. The lewd sounds of his digits moving in and out of her drenched opening grew louder as she writhed against his hand, soaking his skin. Without thinking, she buried her face against his neck, muffling her whimpers as the peak of her climax washed over her.

"There y’go. Filthy girl, making a mess of my hand.” He coaxed, slowing his fingers down but rubbing right against the spongy spot in her cunt to make it last. “That’s what you needed, wasn’t it?”

"Mmm, yes." She mumbled against his neck, her breath hitching as aftershocks wracked her body. "Please...please no more..." She whimpered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she clung to him, boneless and spent. "It's too much." Her voice was soft, vulnerable.

“I think you can take more.” He said with a laugh, but pulled his fingers out anyway. “But since m’nice, I’ll give you a second. I’ll go easy on you since it’s the first time we’re fucking, but next time m’not stopping. You’ll keep cumming.” Harry had plenty of plans for her, she had no clue how much he’d been planning on this. “C’mon.” Scooping her up easily, he had her wrap her legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders as he carried her through the house.

"You’re insufferable.” She muttered, her head nuzzling against his neck as her body trembled in the aftermath of her release. She let out a soft squeak as he easily picked her up, her face flushed as she hid it. "Where are we going?” She asked, her voice soft. "I can walk, you know...” Y/N trailed off, her face flushing. "I’m not light, either.”

“Shut the fuck up with that. M’holding you, and m’not struggling.” He grunted, giving her ass a swat as he kicked open the door to his bedroom. “Bringing you to my room. Since your cunt needs a second, figured it’s nicer on your knees if you’re kneeling on my carpet t’suck me off.” The bluntness showed its head again as he felt her pull her face from his neck. “Been thinking about you getting that lipstick you keep wearin’ all over my cock.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing darker. "Oh...” She trailed off, licking her lips unconsciously as her gaze lowered to his crotch. "You mean like this?” She asked, her voice soft and sultry as she slid down his body to land on her feet. She slowly sank to her knees, her hands resting on his thighs. "Maybe I will, maybe I won’t..."

“I think you will. You’ve been gagging for it.” His hands grabbed the buckle of his belt as she looked up at him on her knees, the picture absolutely perfect. “You look awfully good there. Think you were made to be on your knees for me.” Depositing the leather onto the floor, he reached for her face and let his thumb smear her cherry red lipstick. “Go on. Undo my trousers, take my cock out. Know it’s what y’want. Don’t have to play coy with me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as he smeared her lipstick, her tongue darting out to lick at her lips. "Mmm, you think so?” She cooed, her hands moving to his fly. She deftly undid the button and zipper, her slender fingers pushing the fabric down his hips. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the bulge in his boxers, her voice low. "Maybe…” Her breath hitched as she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric. "Maybe I'll take your cock out and give it a little kiss first," she whispered, her hands gripping the elastic waistband, slowly pulling them down to help his cock out.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips once more. His cock was thick, the head flushed a ruddy red. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, feeling the heat radiating from him. "So big and hard for me." she purred, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. Brushing her tongue around the sensitive tip, she smeared the precum that had leaked out. Looking up at him, she felt the thrill in her stomach as his eyes darkened with lust as he watched her. She opened her mouth, slowly lathing her tongue lick up and down his shaft from base to tip.

“There y’go.” He breathed, gathering her hair in a loose excuse for a ponytail. The red had transferred some to his cock and he loved the vision. He’d thought about it more times than he could count. “One day, think I should film this. Let you see how pretty you look on your knees.” He murmured, watching as her tongue ran back over the slit. “Get it wet.”

Humming in approval at his words, her tongue continuing to lap at his length, eyes fluttered closed as she felt his hand tighten in her hair. “I would like that.” Continuing to lick him, her tongue traced the ridges and veins of his cock before she looked up at him, wrapping her lips around the tip.

“Good.” He grunted as he felt the plushness of her lips take the head of him into her mouth, the slow pull of the suction. “Take a little more. Know you’ve been thinking about sucking this cock. Show me.”

As he spoke, she listened, taking more of him into her mouth. Unfortunately, she was not as immune to him as she had tried to be. It seemed she had met her match, wanting to please him in ways she usually scoffed at with any other man. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed her head up and down, doing the work she needed to make him pleased. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in time with her mouth as she looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her throat working around his thickness.

“Oh, fuck.” He laughed deeply, head tilting back as she showed him what he had asked for. “Thatta’ girl. Knew you had it in you. Shit.” He cursed under his breath as the heat of her mouth welcomed him, taking him much better than he had anticipated.

She could feel his hands in her hair, guiding her pace, making sure she was taking him just right. The salty taste of his precum mixed with the musky scent of his arousal was intoxicating, making her head spin. She looked up at him, her lips stretched around his girth, and saw the raw desire in his eyes. It only fueled her own hunger, making her suck him even harder, desperate to please him.

Y/N moaned around his cock as he bottomed out in her throat, the vibrations traveling up his shaft. Her nose pressed against his pelvis as she swallowed around him, her throat constricting to make him hiss. She held herself there, savoring the feeling of being so completely filled by him before slowly pulling back to catch her breath. Strings of saliva connected her lips to his spit-shined cock.

His face contorted with pleasure as she deep-throated him, a guttural groan escaping his lips. "God, you're so good at that." Harry praised, his hands fisting her hair tighter. His hips bucked forward, meeting her bobbing head, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the room. His breathing grew heavier, chests heaving as he struggled to maintain control. "You’re gonna be a lot of fun to fuck, aren’t you?”

��Mhm.” With a messy pop, she pulled his cock out of her mouth, saliva dripping from his glistening tip. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with lust, before leaning forward and spitting directly onto his cock. The mess hit him dripping over the side, making him hiss in surprise. Rubbing her saliva into his cock, she coated him in it as she smirked up. Getting him to react was a reward. He had barely said anything to anyone, and she was the one getting him to groan and hiss. Sue her for feeling a little special. “Think it’s wet enough?” She purred, coy as she looked at him through his lashes.

Before she could say another word, Harry grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, his mouth crashing against hers in a searing kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips, making her moan in surprise. Was he good at everything? She could taste herself on him, the salty sweetness of her saliva mixing with the heat of his own mouth. Biting down on her lower lip, he pulled it gently between his teeth before letting go.

 "You talk too much."

Her breath hitched as he spoke against her mouth, his voice low and commanding. She could only manage a whimper in response, her knees growing weak. He took advantage of her parted lips and weakened stance, slipping his hands around to squeeze her ass, pulling her flush against him so she could feel him against her tummy. "But you're right," he murmured, voice roughened by desire. "You've made quite a mess. Think you’re ready to take my cock?"

She nodded eagerly, her eyes locked onto his intense gaze. "Then turn around and bend over the bed," he ordered, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. She quickly complied, feeling a rush of cool air against her bare backside as she leaned forward, gripping the bed sheets tightly. 

As she leaned her chest further into the bed, she felt the soft fabric of the comforter against her breasts, her hard nipples grazing against it. Every sensation felt a little overwhelming, but in a good way. It had been a long time coming considering how she had tried to navigate how to work up how to simply talk to Harry, and now he was her supposed friends with benefits. Patience was wearing thin.  Swaying her ass enticingly, wanting to give him a good show- make him break. The room was filled with the sound of her shallow breathing, her chest heaving as she tried to regulate her breathing. Behind her, she could hear the crinkle of plastic as he sheathed himself in a condom.

She could imagine how Harry must look right now, his dark eyes fixed on her ass as he prepared himself. The thought sent her reeling. If only she had eyes on the back of her head. Feeling him step close, his body heat radiating off of himself and into her bare skin, she lifted her hips slightly, trying to guide his cock to press against her soaked entrance.

Harry's strong hands gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements and controlling the pace. control- he was exercising the control that she clearly did not have. She felt the tip of his prick slowly push against her, inch by agonizing inch. Gasping, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets as she stretched to accommodate his size. The sensation was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but she welcomed it nonetheless, pushing back against him to encourage him to continue. "Oh, fucks sake.” She sulked into the mattress.

,"It’s not fair. You can’t.. You’re not supposed t’have such a big dick when you act like one.”  Her words came out in a string of stuttered moans as he seated himself fully inside her, his hips flush against her ass. He gave a low, satisfied chuckle, his body tensing as he held himself deep inside her.  She felt her insides clench around him, her body instinctively trying to adjust to his size. “Oh, no? You don’t like it?”

She shook her head vehemently, biting her lip as she felt him throb inside her. "N-no, I love it. I fucking love it." She admitted breathlessly, her voice thick with need. "It's just not...fair that you get to have such a perfect cock and you waited so long to give it to me." She punctuated her words with a roll of her hips, relishing the drag of his thick length against her walls.

Her insides felt like a silken vice around him, pulsating rhythmically as if trying to milk him despite him not being inside her long enough to do so.  Her body was already betraying her as her walls quivered around him, her inner muscles fluttering as if trying to entice him to move, to draw him in deeper. Her body was warm, and she was tight, gripping him as if she hadn’t been with anyone in years.

A smug grin spread across his face as he let out a low, satisfied groan from deep within his chest. “Well, m’sorry, babe. Had t’make sure you’d be a good fit for my cock. I think I made the right call, though. Tight little thing, squeezing me the way I like.” He taunted, his voice laced with amusement. His hands tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he slowly began to move within her. "You like how I fill you up?" He punctuated his words with slow, measured thrusts, his voice growing hoarser as she clenched around him.

When she struggled to answer, he let out a laugh instead. He continued to speak for her, his voice a low, husky rumble as he slowly pumped into her. "Yeah, y’like being stuffed full of my cock. Like how it stretches you open and makes you feel so fucking small." He teased, his fingers digging into her hips as he picked up his pace slightly. "Barely able to talk back to me when I know you love to run that filthy mouth. Must be because you’re not used to being filled like this.”

She mewled, her hips rolling to meet his thrusts. He was right. Embarrassingly so. The wet squelch of his cock plunging in and out of her filled the room, mixing with the erotic symphony of their moans and groans. He could feel her getting more slick, her arousal coating his shaft and dripping down onto his balls. "That's it, take it deep like that. You like to play tough, but you just want t’be a good girl for me. Isn’t that right?"

Her response was a strangled cry, her pussy fluttering around him as if to agree. He grunted in approval, his hips snapping forward to fill her again. "Good girl," he praised darkly. "You're doing so well. Such a good little thing, taking me so well. Now answer me.” The croon was soft, a direct opposite to his pace. “Gonna let me fuck you when I want, mm? Gonna call me when y’need it too?”

She keened, her voice echoing in the room. "Y-Yes please... I- I'll call you. I'll be good. I'll... I'll let you. I'll let you whenever you want!" Her words came out disjointed, broken up by his thrusts growing a bit harder, jostling her where she laid. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white as she tried to keep herself grounded.

"That’s a good fuckin’ girl. You're gonna be so well-behaved for me, aren't you?" He cooed, his voice a soothing contrast to the growing brutal pace of his hips. One hand slid up her back, pressing between her shoulder blades to keep her arched as he took his pleasure from her. "You're mine t’play with now, understand? This pretty little cunt belongs to me." As he continued to pound into her, she felt a sense of contentment wash over her. This was exactly what she needed - someone to take control, to make her feel desired and owned. And Harry was perfect for the job. They were going to be lovely friends, with many benefits. As she teetered on the edge of her climax, she felt a sense of peace settle over her, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ climax ] | sylus

— summary: sylus drags you onto a mission with him for old time’s sake. and you slide into familiarity, almost like there isn’t a wedge in the form of a beautiful young hunter driving you apart. — cw: explicit sexual content, reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, mentions of blood, profanity, mentions of pedophilia, mentions of human trafficking, minor character death, men with guns, reader has a shitty past, self-destructive behavior, reader doing her assassin duties, a little romance sprinkled in between, mdni — notes: inspired by mr. & mrs. smith. thank you so much for reading, lovely! [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ] — now playing: cariño - the marías — obligatory tags: @withering-dream @an-ever-angry-bi @midiplier @abbylee0710 @picnicthegarden @karespocketboyfriends @chrissy26 @delulusimps @glamouroki @midiplier @celestemcbrim @everywherenothere @ari-shipping-stuff @beewilko @alexhenituse @nim-rose @moonlight-inthe-sea @sunnyf4lls @himiko-omikami @inkonparchment @sillyfreakfanparty @regandoesthings @im-in-different-universe @ravensheart18 @alyyylog @corvid007 (sorry if i missed anyone.)

He wanted to make love. You wanted to fuck.

He wanted you, all tender and pliant beneath him, his name hinged in your throat. He wanted to worship you, to uncover the erogenous zones of your body piece by piece, and to expose you like forgotten treasure buried deep beneath rotting ruins. 

But you reasoned you didn’t have time. You were in a hurry—a hurry for what, exactly, you couldn’t pinpoint. 

Perhaps you were rushing to feel something, in a hurry to please and to feel useful as you tore his shirt from his shoulders, his body rigid and searing between the thick of your thighs. Pleasing is all you know, serving embedded in your chemical makeup, no room to pursue your own desires. 

Your mouths came together so abruptly that your teeth clashed. The counter of his kitchen island was glacial and tacky beneath your thighs. You’d barely divested yourself of your coat before you drew him into an ardent dance of tongues, his abs twitching beneath the artful crawl of your fingers. You tugged at the give of his pants, quietly yet vehemently demanding he take them off. He drew back, wild-eyed and hair mussed, eyes drowsy with want.

“We should slow down,” he sighed, hot and open-mouthed where your shoulder met neck. Blistered down to your collarbone where he nipped, hands roosted on your hips, thumbs soothingly cruising over juts of bone. 

It made you sick, his tenderness. You weren’t glass and didn’t deserve to be handled like it. 

You chuckled something husky and bitter, tossing your thoughts to the wolves. Your fingers raked through his hair. Grabbing the scruff of his neck, you brought his mouth back to yours, trapping any further words of protest in his throat. 

You didn’t want to think. Didn’t want complications. Just wanted to be driven by sensation, tucking your inhibitions into the darkest hulls of your mind. 

You’re a bit of a masochist. You enjoy punishing yourself for misdeeds you’ve constructed in your mind—having feelings for your boss, secretly envying your friend. Your use is slowly running its course, and you’ll one day be thrown to the wayside. 

You figure you don’t deserve kindness. Sensitivity. You don’t deserve a slow love, the steady creep of an orgasm bubbling in your stomach, invoked by the sluggish grind of hips, words of affirmation whispered like the sweetest supplication into your ear.

No.

You deserve to be used, lusted after. You’ve spent most of your adult life with that mentality, your past having engraved that under your skin. You’ve been a weapon for as long as you can remember. A tool. Loveless. Which is why, when the gentleman who’d frequented Lux wanted to take his time with you, you declined, opting for something more ragged and intense. 

He took you hard and rough on his counter at your behest. Left you open, bare, laughing, battling to get your breath under control. You stayed the night to humor him. Let him hold you as he stroked the sweetest compliments of all with ghostly fingers into your skin as the stars in the sky gave way to the gentle spill of sun rays. 

You crept out of his arms and apartment once he sank below the misty shawl of sleep. He’d inquire about your whereabouts later—ask why you didn’t stay. You rarely did. Tonight, you felt weak. 

You’d ignore him until you next needed him. When the urge to forget sunk its talons into your chest, curling around your heart and squeezing. 

You had a mission to prepare for. Sylus’ name lit up your notifications, cryptic as ever with minimal words. You’d deal with your feelings later. 

There was work to be done.

Besides, you didn’t even remember his name. 

How could you face him when you’d uttered someone else’s name while he was deep inside you?

—

You pay for your escapades in the form of pretty petals of blue and green blooming on your neck the following night. Bite marks. 

You rub at the raw skin for the nth time, a hiss forced through grit teeth. Maybe he was a little too rough. Concealer works wonders, coupled with your glamor. Still doesn’t take away the sting, but you suppose the pain is your punishment for being weak.

You stretch, yawning. Shift until the leather of the car’s backseat squeaks. You sense his eyes on you in your periphery, boring down to the marrow. The fine hairs littering your body stand on end. You maneuver again, leant against the door, cheek propped on your knuckles. 

You try to focus on the scenery unfolding beyond the car’s windshield. Powdery stars spilled over a deep violet canvas. The red glare of brake lights every so often as you approach another vehicle. Try to focus on the driver’s fingers readjusting on the steering wheel, on the fixed hum of the engine, and how it intermingles with the gentle bumps on the road. Home in on your breathing and the thunderous drum of your heart. He’s been watching you like this since you eased into the car—Sylus. 

You get this creeping suspicion he wants to say something. Like he knows all your secrets, having perused through them like they’re the yellowed pages of a book. Nah. He wouldn’t know what kind of night you had. He wouldn’t care. You’re a grown woman, capable of making your own mistakes and reaping the repercussions of them. He has other things on his mind—other people. 

Another yawn escapes you. You curse yourself for not grabbing coffee on your way out. Too busy pouring yourself into your dress, painting your face with makeup, and meticulously tucking your weapons away. 

“Long day?” says Sylus. You jolt the slightest bit at the grit of his voice. How it breaks up the silence and sets your stomach alight with dragonflies. Fabric shifts. His exhale is weighted beside you, thigh brushing yours as he spreads his legs, so very big in comparison to the backseat. 

You force a smile, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress. “You could say that.”

You feel the shift in his gaze. There’s a whisper of bitterness in his tone when he next speaks. “Maybe you should spend less time pursuing your hobbies at night and more time sleeping.”

This time, you do turn. Cut your eyes to him, mouth tugged up with confusion. His expression reads passivity. Mouth scrawled into a rigid line, scarlet eyes fixed to yours, unrelenting. Something’s off about him tonight. You sensed it in the brevity of his call when he phoned you to outline your mission—you’d be accompanying him tonight to a banquet. A glittering, amenable doll on his arm, smiling pretty like murder wasn’t rotting your mind. You’d lure your target away to be snuffed out like a candle’s flame. Slip out without drawing suspicion, and the world would be rid of another shit stain. 

He quirks a brow, wordlessly challenging you. No customary smirk comes this time. Just the air weighted with something tense. Your throat clicks when you swallow. You opt for obliviousness, laughing it off despite the gnarling feeling in your gut worming its way up your throat. Despite every synapse in your brain screaming for you to fire back. You’re reading too much into things. He’s being his usual, detached self, and not because he knows you were up to no good last night.

Right?

“Maybe I should.” 

The tendons in Sylus’ neck pull, jaw tensing. For a moment, he looks like he wants to keep prodding. But he instead averts his gaze when the driver chimes in, announcing you’ve arrived at your destination. 

The venue’s tawny spotlights dance over the windshield as the car crawls to a stop. People donned in expensive formalwear line the sidewalk, animatedly chatting as they await entry. You take some time to admire the historic, art deco architecture before your door opens, the crisp evening air spilling in and fanning over your skin. 

You look up when Sylus offers you his arm. His expression softens considerably, contrasting the wet cat he was moments ago. There’s a hint of a smile twitching his lips. He almost looks boyish, and you can’t help taking him in. He’s dressed to the nines, tucked in a three-piece tux, bow tie meticulously tied, hair swept up into a pretty, alabaster coif.

Your lips spasm. You peel yourself from the seat, gathering up the trail of your dress. Twine your arm with his, allowing him to shepherd you through the throng of people. It almost feels like old times, their voices petering to a hush when they catch sight of you. They part like a school of fish as the pair of you make your way up the steps leading to the venue’s doors.

“Stay frosty,” you joke to dispel your nerves, standing before the heavy, double doors, waiting for the attendees to open them. 

Sylus snorts, his arm flexing beneath the possessive clutch of your fingers. He pinches the bridge of his nose. And the exasperation in his voice makes your eyes crinkle with mirth. “Please, never say that again.”

You slide into familiarity thereafter, almost like there wasn’t a wedge in the form of a beautiful young hunter driven between you.

—

She said something curious to you when you arrived at the airport earlier—Ms. Hunter. You had the time to spare. You wanted to ask why she requested you drive her instead of Sylus. But you didn’t push it, figuring she had her reasons. Maybe she didn’t have the energy for his nagging, his fretting. She should be so lucky. 

She’d be gone for a couple of weeks, swept up in the grueling task of protecting researchers in the mountains from Wanderers. A part of you felt sorry for her. Worried. But she was a big girl. If she could smack Sylus around in Kitty Cards, she could dodge a few teeth and claws, no problem. 

“Need help?” you asked over your shoulder, the SUV’s engine humming idly at the airport’s drop-off point. 

She smiled at you from the backseat. “I got it!” She chirped as she fetched her oversized suitcase from the floor. 

She rounded the vehicle, bowing to your level at the window. Up close, her smile looked more mischievous than usual. Smile lines bracketed her honey-dipped eyes as she murmured, “Be nice to Sylus. He’s trying, ya know?” 

You pinned her with a quizzical look, your mouth working around a retort. She left before you could get a word out. You watched her slip through the crowd of travelers milling about before she was out of sight, leaving you to mull over what the hell that meant.

—

It starts to make sense as time passes what she meant. 

When you’ve gorged yourself on conversation and champagne, nestled between politicians, CEOs, socialites, and people of the like. Fickle, spewing gossip you can’t be bothered to keep up with. 

Sylus rarely leaves your side, only slipping away to chat up old colleagues or to procure you more bubbly. Always has a hand, scorching and possessive, at the small of your back, or an arm slung about your waist, drawing you into the safety his body exudes. He doesn’t correct anyone when they address you as his, giving you a subdued, amused look when you work your mouth into amending them.

You titter shyly, toying with your necklace. Maybe this is a part of your cover—pretending to be his significant other, all pretty and docile at his side. You won’t complain. It’s nice being this close, feeling wanted, and being envied in a different way. Not for your body, but for the man wrapped so willingly around your finger. 

It’s felt like ages since you’ve last done a gig together, so you’ll enjoy his attention, even if it’s all a ploy, while you can.

The evening slides by in a blur of twinkling chandeliers and laughter. 

Sylus draws you into a dance, and the pair of you are swallowed up by the mass of swaying couples and the string orchestra. Your cheeks ache with a smile, your limbs and inhibitions loosened by the champagne. He holds you to him as you waltz, his body rigid and devastating against yours, languorous fingers curled around your nape. He hasn’t stopped smiling, a boyish dimple cratering his cheek. Hasn’t released you from the scarlet stir of his eyes since, and you smoosh your face against pectoral muscle, hiding the warmth splotching your cheeks.  

His heart thrums something steady beneath your ear. Beneath the expensive pleat of his tux. Breaths even, his bewitching scent furling in your chest like smoke. You let him lead you about the glittering marble tiles of the dance floor, feeling like you’re in a dream. Perhaps it’s the bubbly that’s got you toddling through a dreamlike fog, but a fraction of you starts to think, just for a second, you’re more than a cover, and your boss isn’t so detached, shoving you to the back burner in favor of someone else. 

Your breath is sharp when he suddenly peels away, expertly twirling you. You laugh as your dress flutters around your ankles, nearly tripping you up. He dips you as the music dampens, the beautiful scenery tilting and blurring. Swathed in the tawny, dim lighting of the banquet hall, you make out his features, something akin to affection loosening his expression, and the smile slips from your face. 

The world fades away, and only the pair of you seem to exist in this moment. He pulls you closer until your vision fills with red, fringed by dark, wispy lashes sweeping over cheeks mottled pink. His lips purse as his gaze slides to your mouth, breath stirring your baby hairs. You hold your breath as he eases in, appearing like he’ll kiss you, and you’re stricken by something hot. Your mouths but a hairsbreadth apart, he whispers something that makes your heart sink to your feet.

“It’s showtime.”

The magic of the moment falls away as he steadies you. A pout worms its way onto your face as Sylus tangles your fingers together, a chuckle swelling in his chest. He leads you back to your table, still holding your hand, even long after you’ve returned to your seats.

—

Nikolai is easy to manipulate. To bend to your will. Of course, he is. All men are if you know how to approach them. 

It helps that your glamor erases a few years off your face, giving you the appearance of a young woman barely experiencing the world. His favorite. It only takes you fluttering your lashes, laughing pretty, and flattering him to get him to take you back to his hotel room.

On the surface, he’s a passive, middle-aged man who looks like he wouldn’t harm a fly. But beneath that facade, he’s a scourge waiting to be wiped out. He’s as despicable as everyone else you’ve bumped off, auctioning off girls to nefarious men under the guise of selling “harmless little dolls.” Moonlighting as a franchise owner, using his stores as a ruse to smuggle young girls through the channels of the underworld. 

You take that personally, having once been on the auctioning floor yourself. Memories of a past painted red flood your mind, and it makes your stomach churn with disgust. You were lucky then, having been turned into a murderous tool rather than a fucktoy. So, it makes sense why Sylus was so eager to get you on this mission. Like he knew you’d take pleasure in watching Nikolai’s life drain from his eyes, his blood caked up under your nails. 

Your smile twitches, threatening to screw up into a grimace as you walk at Nikolai’s side, arm in arm. He’s red-faced and cheery, having gorged himself on champagne and merriment at the banquet. You would’ve snuffed him out if four bodyguards didn’t flank you. Not like you can’t take them, but you’d rather complete your mission as quietly as possible without rousing suspicion.

You just have to keep up the act long enough to isolate him so you can make your move. He’s been ruffling Onychinus’ feathers, claiming to be in cahoots with its notorious leader. Sylus, of course, doesn’t like that, not wanting to be associated with the likes of him. This is where you come into play, his ever-faithful watchdog, ready to kill at the drop of a hat.

Nikolai ushers you into his hotel room, where three more guards stand in good form in the living area. You acknowledge them with a seductive smile, allowing one to frisk you. Your smile grows tenfold when he finds nothing, clearing his throat and straightening his tie as if he’s fallen prey to your charm. Someone should be fired.

Nikolai leads you into his room thereafter, the double doors shutting and locking with finality. You offer him a massage, to which the portly man happily accepts, stripping down to his boxers and plopping onto the king-sized bed. He has a thing for pretty, young girls barely scraping the surface of legality. You’ll see to it he’s ushered into the afterlife by one.

Your hair waterfalls from its updo, warm as it spills onto your shoulders when you pull your hairpin free. You ruck up your gown, climbing over his body to roost yourself on his backside, legs bracketing either side of his waist, heels digging waning moons into your thighs. You’re sultry as you ensnare him in small talk, fingers kneading over layers of fat and muscle. Nikolai hums appreciatively, seemingly thrilled to have your company. Just the way you want him.

Your fingers tip-toe up his spine, thumbs smoothing over the notches of bone there. He exhales beneath your ministrations, remarking how magical your hands are. You huff a laugh as your fingers curl around his jaw, the opposing set burying themselves in his hair. 

“Massaging isn’t the only thing my hands are good at.”

With a fluent twitch of your wrists, his neck snaps, the sound barely heard above the gentle croon of the jazz music he queued up beforehand, accompanied by the exhale of a life dying out like a flame. 

You pull his eyelids down, easing off his lifeless body. Stare at his corpse with a faraway look in your eyes, smoothing some hair away from his face. Like he’s a sacrifice to the little girl inside, screaming for revenge. You straighten your dress when the bedroom doors rattle, Nikolai’s men frantically calling his name. Shit. Maybe you weren’t as meticulous as you thought. 

Quickly, you survey your surroundings for a way out. Spot the sliding doors leading to the balcony, and you dart between them, the wispy curtains grazing over your fevered skin. A wintry kiss of wind greets you as you lean over the rail, hair ruffling, and you take in the bokeh of lights glittering on the street below. 

You’re at least eight stories from the ground, so jumping is out of the question. You could very well fight your way out, but Nikolai’s guards are heavily armed. There’s no guarantee you’ll make it out of the fray unscathed. 

You lean back against the rail, adrenaline spuming through you, watching the bedroom doors pulse as his guards kick and shove against them. Fuck! Tugging a knife from the garter belt tucked beneath the slit of your dress, you prepare for a fight, body taut, nerves flaring. 

Just when you’ve resolved to get your hands dirty, something feathery touches your bare shoulder. Gentle and curious in its embrace, and you whip your head around to its source. You’re met with a smoky tendril, speckled with claret orbs of energy, swirling ominously before you. You peer over the railing, a familiar shock of white blurring into frame. There’s no mistaking the upward cant of his lips, and the crinkle of scarlet-spun eyes from this height. He motions to you with two fingers from the sidewalk, wordlessly beseeching you to come down.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter, a nervous expression stretching your features. Heights have never been your forte, but you suppose beggars can’t be choosers. “Fuck it,” you relent, gathering some courage and climbing onto the rail. 

Nikolai’s men finally break through, and as they dart in, spraying the room in a hail of bullets upon seeing Nikolai’s corpse, you fall into the feathery cradle of Sylus’ Evol, a yip ripped from your throat. 

You float to the ground like a feather, falling into Sylus’ arms. He looks down at you with something unguarded shining in his eyes, using his Evol as a shield when Nikolai’s men pelt the pair of you with a barrage of bullets.

You lose yourself in the moment. Your lips part, lids heavy with something you can’t quite place. 

“Took you long enough,” you chide to dispel the tension brewing between you, trying to catch your breath.

“I’ll be more punctual next time,” Sylus answers with a chuckle, voice rumbling against your body as he casually walks away from the scene, refusing to put you down, even long after he’s warped you to safety. 

rising action | masterlist

[blueberrymilkcookie]

kye's shmilk trailer Nooticing compilation

The Keys

if you've seen the leaks from a while back, we already know that one of the stage assets for shadow milk's update is a room with an extremely big key hole dead center of it. here in the trailer we can see more key imagery! in the first shot, we see the white pillars have a keyhole, and the gold ones have a key shape on the bottom of them. when we finally see the depiction of past-sm, his staff has a key shape on the bottom!!!!! also in the bottom right, you can also see a pillar that seems to be a key as well. (edit: ALSO THE KEYHOLE ON HIS CHEST idk why i forgot to mention that)

as for what this could mean, i mean my best guess is that they key symbolizes unlocking more knowledge, as we know from the 4th anni description that shadow milk was very curious and tried to learn everything there was to learn. the fact that it's a key also gives us a sense of mystery and secrecy although, and may tie into unlocking hidden/forbidden knowledge?

different soul jam design

so this is most definitely a different design from what we saw in both the beast-yeast trailer even past-sm's staff in the image above. i'm not entirely sure why this is, but i'm just gonna throw out another idea.

if the soul jam physically change upon the user's emotional state/will (dark cacao's soul jam turning white when he became apathetic in ep. 4) then it's possible that past-sm's soul jam changed into this very obviously darker and corrupted form once he began to embrace deceit. this could be wrong though and it's just a cool visual thing for the trailer *shrug*

Pondering His Orb

so this is very obviously pure vanilla (same skin tone and his chin is being covered with the same fabric) but why the hell is he pondering his orb rn. and why is he in a shady ass cloak and watching himself go to the spire of knowledge ?? is this like him in the future or... idk. WE'LL SEE I GUESS cuz idk what to make of this

interesting thing to add, past-sm is holding an orb. they're both orb ponderers

(this makes me think he might have had the ability to prophesize the future with a crystal ball or some shit. we already know he likes tarot cards so... Btw i already had this idea so devsis needs to pay me again.)

Let's play a homoerotic game of chess

board game time! not sure if it means anything, but shadow milk is initially holding a bishop, uses it to attack a pawn, and then picks up the king piece and uses it to attack pure vanilla cookie. the pawns on the white team are pv's friends... so he's calling them fodder basically

(also, side note: he changed the queen piece to what looks like a jester. is he calling himself a queen? LMAO)

WELCOME TO THE MINDFUCK!!!

multiple things to be talking about right here!! 1) when shadow milk seems to be gaining control over pure vanilla, pure vanilla's third eye/star marking melts

2) interestingly, as he does this, shadow milk doing his little cool animation also melts into pure vanilla. this could be a way to show him getting inside of pv's head i think. btw i drew this already like 11 months ago so. Devsis pay me.

"It's time to accept the truth you like so much! You, you are merely following in my footsteps. Oh, but it's inevitable. In the end, you will become me!"

3) extremely interesting of them to show past-sm, then show pv looking into the reflection of seemingly his own future corruption (btw it's the same silhouette as the pv costume from the livestream). we all already know what this means guys!! we're going to see the cycle that both shadow milk and dark enchantress went through happening to pure vanilla as well!!!! yippie!!!!!!!!

FUCKING BLUEBERRY YOGURT ACADEMY FINALLY MAKES AN APPEARANCE

EVERYONEEE WOULD YA LOOK AT THAT. WHO IS THAT? THE FIRST HEADMASTER. NOW. this doesnt confirm that shadow milk is the first headmaster BUT now we know that there is canonically a very real connection between him and the first headmaster!!!!

oh yea theres also this weird fucking sun/moon thing

ok what we can currently piece together about shadow milk's lore

"You know, I've always dreamt of a beautiful world of perfect chaos, where lies and truths can't be told apart!"

this isn't gonna be a deep analysis bc we don't know anything yet, BUT, from what i can gather, shadow milk cookie was a very curious god who was always in the pursuit of more knowledge. we know now that CANONICALLY he has ties to the blueberry yogurt academy, and at some point (if not from the very start) began to use the forbidden dark moon magic.

based on the 4th anni description alone, we can see that the or one catalyst for his corruption was the fact that... people were just stupid, and listened to him no matter if he was telling the truth or not (i assume it's deeper than that, but this is all we know rn). after learning this, he began to spread lies, using his knowledge to sow chaos and confusion.

also WHY ARE ALL THREE OF HIS DESIGNS FUCKING DIFFERENT

DEVSISTERRRSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[blessedbyahuntress]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Twenty-One: I'm not that different...

Prev/Next

A/N: Figured y'all deserved another chapter that wasn't 400-600 words...

Warnings: Violence and Reader is being cutthroat

Word Count: 900

Listen to: Different Beast

As soon as your arrow made contact with the siren’s shoulder, you leaped down from the mast, tucking into a roll to take most of your impact before you hit the floor. 

You removed the beeswax in your ears, knowing that the siren was in too much pain to sing. You could hear Polites scrambling down the rope ladder after you, and the siren’s outraged screeches as Eurylochus caught her in a net and threw her onboard. 

Odysseus unsheathed his sword, and you notched another arrow. 

“Let’s cut this charade, you are no wife of mine,” Odysseus said, walking slowly to where the siren now lay flailing around on the floorboards. “You’ve been tryin’ to take my life this whole time!”

You paced to the edge of the railing, peering down into the depths of the waters below. “We know under the water, there are packs of you hiding,” you snarled. “Yeah, we know just what you are- a siren.” At the word siren, you turned your head to see the false Penelope shift back into her real form; a horrible mermaid with long, sharp nails and gnashed teeth. 

“My real wife knows I’m not scared of the water,” Odysseus continued. “My real wife knows I don’t have a daughter!”

This time Eurylochus gestured to a different net, one filled with more sirens. “But while you were so focused on turning our men into snacks,” he said. “You didn’t notice that your friends got snatched.” 

“What?” The siren asked in disbelief, eyes locked on the squirming net.

You took a step forward, arrow pointed at her heart. “We are a different beast now. We are the ones who feast now.”

Eurylochus stepped closer too. “No more of us deceased.”

To your surprise, Polites also drew his sword. “‘Cause we won’t take more suffering from you.”

Odysseus’s scowl turned into a wicked grin. “We are the man-made monsters. We are the ones who conquer.” 

You adjusted your aim a bit before firing. The arrow hit the main siren on the other shoulder as you said, “you are a threat no longer. We won’t take more suffering from you.”

Odysseus started walking around the net in which you’d capture multiple sirens in. “We’ve been away from home for…” He held up his fingers as if to count with them. “Twelve years or so. First we slayed in our own war, and now we’re here with more foes.”

You waved your hand at the gray lump of island rising out of the water. “While on the run from Poseidon,” you began. “We found a ship with no crew. I realized nearby there were sirens, singing sailors to their dooms.”

Odysseus grabbed the nearest one’s chin, avoiding her snapping teeth. “We filled our ears with beeswax. That’s how we resist your song. You pretended to be my wife, so I just played along. I read your lips and phrases- scanning for information.”

“Sirens know about every route and horizon,” Eurylochus added. “Now we know how to get back to our island.”

You came around to Odysseus’s left side. “We are a different beast now. We are the ones who feast now.” You exchanged your bow for a sword, knowing that this was about to get messy. “No more of us deceased, ‘cause we won’t take more suffering from you. We are the man-made monsters. We are the ones who conquer. You are a threat no longer. We won’t take more suffering from you.”

You started to walk back to the main siren, but one of the ones in the net grabbed the back of your cloak. “Spare us. Oh, spare us, please,” she begged.

“Why?” You asked, tugging your cloak away and turning on your heel to face her. “So you can kill the next group of sailors in this part of the sea?” You shook your head. “Nah, you wouldn’t have spared me.” 

“I made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life.” Odysseus must’ve overhead the exchange. He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t take more risks of not seeing my wife.”

“Cut off their tails!” Your captain ordered. “We’re ending this now. Throw their bodies back in the water, let them drown.”

“No!” The siren beside you screeched. A smirk played onto your lips as you slashed the net open, all of the sea monsters inside spilling out onto the deck. 

“He is a different beast now,” you stated, thinking back to his ominous smile. Then you realized that must be what you looked like at the moment. “He is the one who feasts now.”

You brought down your sword, your sword now sticking out of a dead sirens’ back. You put your foot on your head, pulling your weapon free with grace. “No more of us deceased, ‘cause we won’t take more suffering from you.”

You didn’t waste anymore time, slashing and hacking at any sign of life in the sirens. “He is the man-made monster. “He is the one who conquers.”

Soon red stained the floorboards, and the only siren remaining was the one who had acted as Penelope. You advanced toward her, and she tried to scramble away, which wasn’t easy; she had two arrows protruding from her shoulders. “You are a threat no longer,” you growled, bringing the blade down to her heart.

You didn’t notice that Eurylochus, Polites, and Odysseus had changed their chant.

“She won’t take more suffering from you.”

Taglist: @barrythestrawberry041 @thereigningking @m-carriaga2021 @jackintheboxs-world @fallenh34art @itzkingbo @sabrina-senpai @smartiepants217 @doodle-with-rhy @trashcannotbealive@uselessmoonlight@permanently-nothere @keikeiluvyou

[marvelimaginesyesplease]

Hermes X Reader

You sniffled, nose crinkling as you stared up at the large building. Bushy ferns and large, stone pillars speckled with gold stood before you. Any other day, you might have found it beautiful, stunning even, but today it left your chest tight, a pit sinking into the very depths of your stomach.

“Nervous?”

You turned, startled. You hadn’t even heard anyone come up beside you. Some hero you’d been.

“Uh-” You paused as you took in the man standing to your right. He was handsome, with sharp almost elfish features and a mop of dark hair. His blue eyes seemed to shift in the morning sun, almost as if he were planning something mischievous.

He smiled, wolfish canines exposed as he tilted his head towards you. “Hermes,” He offered his hand, the other coming up to rest casually on his hip.

Of course, you thought to yourself as your eyes flicked over his robed figure. He seemed so casual despite the way the off white cloth draped across his shoulders. It stopped at the tops of his bronzed thighs, wrapped perfectly around his lean figure, and your eyes widened ever so slightly at the brown leather sandals that adorned his feet. Feathered wings sprouted from his heels, and they shifted and flexed slightly, moving as if they had minds of their own.

“Nice feet,” You offered lightly, almost as if you were mesmerized.

A warm chuckle escaped him. You were cute.

“Thanks!” He chirped, reaching down to take your hand in his own. He shook it lightly, and you flushed as you realized you’d completely ignored a God’s greeting. “Don’t mind the formal attire, it’s not very often people are indicted into the Hero’s Hall of Fame anymore. Casual dress felt too…blah, for such an occasion.” He winked as he spoke, and you couldn’t help the grin that threatened to escape you.

“Hero’s hall of fame…” The words escaped you slowly as you turned your gaze from him, staring up at the building once again. Hero. Had you been a hero? You must have been. But you’d been in battle, sword drawn-

So you’d died.

Oh.

Hermes must have seen the way your expression shifted, because suddenly his warm fingers were gently pressing against your arm.

“I’m the one who fetched you,” He offered quietly. His voice was oddly comforting. You supposed that made sense, since he delivered souls. “You were quite the warrior. Rather ferocious. Ares would have been proud.”

The compliment might have meant something to you if you hadn’t been going over the life you’d left behind, the people you had been trying to save.

“They won because of your sacrifice,” Hermes spoke again, and your gaze shifted from the columns before you to his own swirling, blue irises. They were mesmerizing and entirely in-human. “I was there. I waited for you.”

You felt the way your brows drew together, the thin line of your lips as you pursed them, how your fingers flexed at your sides. He was trying to be nice, but that was easy for someone who couldn’t die. He never had to face his own death.

“Well,” You started. You sounded dry, lack lustre. “Thanks I guess.”

Hermes studied you for a moment before he began to laugh. It sounded like wind chimes-soft and musical. It was beautiful. Your expression softened.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever come across a mortal who was so unimpressed,” He managed through his laughter, casting his gaze back to you. Were all of the gods this laidback? They must not have been. You couldn’t imagine Ares being this kind. Or maybe he would be, since you’d died a warrior.

“It’s refreshing,” He finished, before offering his arm to you. “Are you ready to meet the council? Hear about your great victory and where you’ll be enjoying the rest of your immortal existence?”

You stared down at his muscular arm, shoulders warm as the sun glared down at the two of you. Your immortal existence…so very different than the life you’d lead down below. Or was it above? Where even were you? Olympus? The underworld? You weren’t entirely sure.

“I…suppose so,” You spoke slowly, gingerly looping your arm through his own. You’d never touched a god before, and you marveled at the way his skin seemed to crackle with electricity against your own, almost as if there were a live wire held beneath the surface, like his body was barely containing the energy force that was Hermes. It felt electric, exciting.

You looked up at him, memorizing the way his eyes crinkled and the sharp curves of his cupid’s bow. You understood why mortals fell for god’s: they were beautiful. He reminded you of the man you’d fallen for on earth. He’d been calculated, brave, giving…and the knowing look behind his eyes, the warmth he seemed to emanate was incredibly reminiscent of Hermes’ energy right in this moment. You could only hope he’d lived, that maybe one day you’d see him again.

“I’m ready,” You finally spoke. “Lead the way.”

Hermes nodded, before he began to ascend the steps to his family’s throne room, ensuring you were tucked securely against his side. He could barely admit it to himself, but his heart was thrumming against his ribs, body itching to explode due to your proximity. You looked nothing like you had when you’d been on the mortal plane last-and he was thankful for it.

Do not fall in love with humans, his sister had warned him. They’re fragile beings. They die. And it will only break your heart.

I won’t! He’d laughed.

I would never, he’d tried to convince himself as he’d delivered letters between armies.

I can’t, he’d said again when you were the one who’d been waiting this time instead of the abrasive man who usually met him.

I couldn’t, he’d said again when he’d witnessed how kind you were.

I can’t be, he’d tried to convince himself when he noticed how often he found himself hiding amongst mortals, kept close to your side.

I am, he’d finally confessed, when he’d found himself tangled in your bedsheets, naked limbs intertwined with your own as you’d slept.

He’d looked a little different then, careful to keep his identity hidden. He wasn’t supposed to get involved in mortal affairs, especially ones that could impact wars, change their history, rewrite their future. He wasn’t his father; he didn’t have that sort of power. He’d had to keep it to himself, disappear to attend to his immortal duties, reappear when it wouldn’t look suspicious to you or your comrades, try not to let himself get too distracted as he’d fucked himself into you, completely lost to himself as you’d cried out in his arms.

Even now, he wanted you.

And when he’d seen you collapse in battle, silent as you died, he’d nearly wept. The wail that had escaped him-he almost lost himself. He’d slaughtered men to get to you, sent the Titan’s creations to his uncle’s domain without thinking about the implications, the trouble he’d cause. He was meant to deliver souls, not destroy them. But he’d loved you. Foolishly, recklessly, adored you.

A hero, Zeus had bellowed. Hermes remained stoic, expressionless as your soul lay in his arms. Bring her to Olympus for her trial. She will be celebrated before she is sent to Elysium.

Elysium.

Where Hermes could not go.

Where Hermes could not see you freely.

Where Hermes could not touch you.

Where Hermes could not openly love you.

A sharp pain rippled across his rib cage as you began to ascend the steps. Images of you beneath him, wide eyes meeting his, lips parted as he braced himself above you, praising you as you took him danced across his mind. The way you’d arched your back, head tossed back as you’d cried out his name, nails raking across his skin.

“I love you,” He’d breathed into your mouth, pupils blown wide as he watched you.

You’d cried out, voice soft as you met his gaze. “I love you.”

Hermes wanted you now. He wanted you in every way for as long as he could have you. He wanted to be selfish too, to steal you, to hide your soul from prying eyes and keep you to himself.

But he continued to ascend the steps, arm linked through your own.

He’d find a way, he swore to himself, watching you from the corner of his eye. He had to.

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

you sleep with a firearm, i should've pulled it on you

No matter how many times Terry awoke to a dual-hair-colored mage staring him down, it never got any less… jarring, to put it lightly. He yelped, seeming to equally startle Callum, who drew back.

“Oh! Sorry!” he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No no.” Terry attempted to wave it off, also trying to put his heart back in the proper place in his chest, wheezing. “Just, uh, just gave me a wee little fright! Nothing to, uh, nothing to worry about. So! What can I do for you this fine…” He glanced out the window. Not even dawn yet. “Twilight?”

Callum sat back on his shins. “I needed to ask you some questions. Burning questions.”

That couldn’t have waited until a reasonable hour? Terry refrained from asking. There were always naps. “Ask away.”

“Were you there?” he asked.

Terry sat up straight. “What?”

“Were you there?”

“Again, I say: What? What, exactly, are you asking me if I was there for?”

“When he got out,” Callum repeated, like it was meant to be obvious. “I need to know how it happened. When we fight him next time, it needs to be foolproof.”

He ventured to set a hand on his arm, this boy who was so young but so much like Claudia, vibrant and curious and intense. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as foolproof–”

The mage shrugged it off, not unkindly. “Just answer my question, Terry.”

“Claudia had to do a spell,” Terry said after a pause, the events of that day playing in slow-motion, wondering if, for the hundredth time, maybe he could have taken her down a different path at the fork in the roads. Maybe he could’ve taken her off the trail entirely. “To return a spirit to a body.”

It was difficult to explain, eerie, but everything in the room was suddenly off. His hair stood on end, the fire stopped crackling and waving in the hearth, and Callum got very, very still. “What did you say?” he said, not even a question, exactly, in a voice Terry had never heard before that sent something he didn’t like down his spine.

He shifted away from the zappy prince. “Um, a spell. To return a spirit to a body.”

Green eyes on fire. Callum’s, or Claudia’s?

He shook his head.

“Tell me the spell.”

It wasn’t hard. The words were engraved in his head. He should’ve stopped her himself, then and there if he had to. “Amor Stella Vitae.”

His eyes only widened for a second, then hardened. Fists clenched at his sides and he pushed himself up, cold in more ways than one–a curmudgeonly “Get a grip”–as he stalked off.

“Um, where are you going?”

The mage didn’t care to bother with a response, only threw the door open and let it slam shut.

ao3 :)

[antinousletmehit]

HIIIIIII, could you write something about Telemachus and Reader being his fiancee? I'd love to see them being affectionate with each other and him trying to defend her if any of the suitors mock her 💥

୨୧┇Telemachus x fem!reader

୨୧┇currently burning thru requests

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The halls of the palace were as suffocating as ever, the air thick with the jeers and mockery of the suitors who lounged in the palace. Telemachus stood tall despite the weight on his shoulders, his hand resting protectively on yours as he led you through the hall.

Your presence always drew their attention, something Telemachus both loathed and feared. As his betrothed, you were everything to him, a promise of hope and love amidst the chaos and disrespect these men brought into his home. And, of course, you were stunning,so much so that the suitors couldn’t resist their crude remarks.

Today was no different.

“Well, well, isn’t she a sight,” Antinous sneered, leaning back in his chair as his piercing gaze swept over you. “Telemachus, where did you find such a jewel? Or have you simply kept her hidden from us all this time?” Another suitor, Eurymachus, laughed, raising his cup. “She’s wasted on a boy. Why don’t you let a real man show her a good time, eh?”

Telemachus’s jaw tightened, his hand squeezing yours as he stopped in his tracks. You could feel the tension radiating off him, his body wound tight like a bowstring ready to snap. “Say that again,” Telemachus said, his voice low and dangerous. The suitors only laughed louder, their mockery echoing through the hall. “Oh, come now,” Antinous said, smirking. “We’re just admiring her beauty. Surely you can’t blame us for noticing what’s right in front of us.”

“You call that admiration?” Telemachus shot back, his voice sharp. “You’re nothing but cowards who prey on what you don’t deserve.” Your heart clenched as you tugged lightly at his hand. “Telemachus, let it go,” you whispered, not wanting him to escalate the situation.

But he shook his head, his gaze never leaving the suitors. “No,” he said firmly. “I won’t let them speak to you that way.” Antinous chuckled, standing as if to challenge him. “And what are you going to do about it, boy? Run to your mother?”

Telemachus let go of your hand and took a step forward, standing toe to toe with the larger man. Despite the difference in their size and experience, there was no fear in Telemachus’s eyes, only a burning determination.

“She may be in my home, but she’s not yours to look at, to speak to, or to mock,” Telemachus growled. “If you so much as glance at her again, I’ll make you regret it.” The room fell silent, the suitors momentarily stunned by his boldness. Antinous glared down at him, his smirk replaced by something colder. “Big words for a boy who still lives under his mother’s skirt,” he sneered.

Telemachus didn’t flinch. “And you? Big words for a man who eats from another’s table and can’t earn his own keep.” Antinous’s expression darkened, but before he could respond, you stepped forward, placing a hand on Telemachus’s arm. “Enough,” you said softly but firmly. “Let’s go.”

Telemachus hesitated, his chest rising and falling as he tried to rein in his anger. Finally, he nodded, taking your hand once more and guiding you toward the door. As you left the hall, the suitors’ laughter resumed, but Telemachus didn’t look back. He walked quickly, his grip on your hand tight but reassuring. Once you were out of earshot, he stopped and turned to you, his expression softening.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “I didn’t mean to make a scene.” You smiled gently, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You didn’t. You stood up for me, and that means everything.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. “I won’t let them hurt you,” he promised, his voice steady. “Not with their words, not with anything. You’re mine to protect, and I’ll do it with everything I have.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest as his arms enveloped you. In that moment, the chaos of the palace faded away, leaving only the warmth of his love.

[uceyliyahh]

NOVACANE

Summary: After dealing with a traumatic event in Desiree's past life she decided to keep her heart closed off and didn't have any desire to love again until she met him.

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE, PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

word count: 5380

Jey Uso x Desiree

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

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Ø2

"You're mine and only mine"

"Let me in mamas I won't hurt you like he did, I am nothing like him,"

"The heart knows what it wants and so do you,"

"Let me take care of you,"

DESIREE I found myself at the club early in the morning, a time when the place was completely empty. It was the perfect opportunity to practice some new moves I had picked up from Zasmine. She was the only one who welcomed me when I first arrived, and her support has made all the difference.

People around me would often shoot me disapproving looks, making it clear they were judging me. At first, it was frustrating to overhear their whispers and gossip about my life.

Zasmine was the sole individual who truly respected me and supported me through everything; the others were merely driven by greed and self-interest. As I focused on perfecting my new move, I hardly noticed who entered the room.

While I was spinning on the pole in the Jade pose, I had my wireless headphones on, enjoying some music to keep myself entertained. Suddenly, I noticed him leaning against the wall, watching me with admiration, and it sent a wave of nerves through me.

I paused just before stepping off the pole, shifting my headphones aside as I noticed him approaching. Taking a sip of water, I watched Jey stroll up to the stage, hands tucked into his pockets, a smile lighting up his face as he looked at me.

He kept his promise

I returned his smile and stepped closer to him on the stage, settling down just as I had the day before, shattering the quiet that hung between us. "Hey there, Joshua," I said.

"Hey, pretty girl, I see you have a lot of skill up on that pole there," he said as I looked back at the pole then at him.

"I mean I have been doing this since I was nineteen so it's nothing new to me," He nodded his head while coming between my legs how he did yesterday and 'god I could feel his dick brushing up between my legs.'

Joshua is undeniably attractive, and it's no surprise that girls are drawn to him. Just take a moment to appreciate his charming smile, stylish mullet, and eye-catching Cuban link chain. With those fresh kicks, he clearly has a passion for sneakers that adds to his appeal.

What really stood out to me was the way he was dressed in a complete Nike tech fit, all in blue—my favorite color. It was clear he had a sense of style and confidence that made an impression.

"You're wearing my favorite color you know," he looked down at his fit then back up at me.

"I didn't know actually," all I could do was smile at him I couldn't let him get through me.

I was taken by surprise as he drew me nearer, his hands resting on my hips and gently caressing my sides. This unexpected display of affection stirred a mix of emotions within me, almost compelling me to create some distance between us.

Joshua placed as soft kiss on my neck and cheek, "I wanna get to know you more princess," oh no Desiree you have to push him away.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "As a friend or more?" I asked him.

"Both actually, it's something about you is different mama,"

I shook my head, "Joshua I'm not a good person to love on, I'll just bring you down," it was true that's how Jayden felt all the time when we were together.

His gaze at me was something that I couldn't read but I couldn't let him in it's not right, it'll make me look like an idiot if I do. "Lay it out on me baby doll,"

"You wouldn't know how to deal with a woman like me you'll get tired of me soon," he needs to understand we can't be doing this I am not ready.

Jey arched an eyebrow at me, his fingers gently tracing circles on my inner thighs. With a confident tone, he said, "I can definitely take care of you, sweetheart; all you need to do is let me in."

Let him in I couldn't I am to much of a broken person.

As we locked eyes, I found myself questioning his intentions. 'What could a striking man like him possibly see in someone like me?' Just then, I felt his hands glide around my hips, giving a gentle squeeze that sent a delightful shiver through me.

I had to end this before things between us get really heavy.

"Look, Joshua I know you mean well but I just can't I'm sorry I've been through a lot," I said getting up from the stage grabbing my things so that I could avoid being a dummy for a man I just met yesterday.

I turned and made my way toward the door beside the stage, but I could feel his footsteps trailing behind me. Suddenly, he reached out, wrapping his arms around my waist and drawing me in closer to him.

Jey gazed into my eyes, his expression earnest. "Open up to me, sweetheart. I'll look after you, I swear. You don't need to put on a brave face with me. Just reveal your true self," he urged, and I searched his eyes for any hint of jest, hoping to discern the truth behind his words.

His gaze revealed everything; it was as if he could see right through the facade I wore daily. My lips parted, ready to speak, yet no words escaped. The way he touched me, caressing me with a tenderness that felt both thrilling and perilous, left me breathless.

Jey's gaze flickered from my lips to my eyes, and I could almost hear him think, 'Why does he have to be so stunning?' I felt an overwhelming urge to distance myself in that moment, yet I found myself unable to do so.

"J-Josh...I-I," before I could finish my sentence I felt him place his lips upon mine as our lips were moving in sync.

His hand gently stroked my cheek as his tongue danced within my mouth. I found myself pulling him closer, my fingers entwined in his mullet, deepening the kiss even further.

While doing so, I felt his hardened manhood brush against me; it was as if something inside of me had been ignited. He held me close as he ran his tongue down my throat despite my attempts to push him away.

"Lemme' prove to you tonight before I leave..." he muttered.

'He was a good kisser better than Jayden I'll give him that.'

His lips were soft and delicate

But why is he making me feel this way?

"J-Josh.." I muttered between the kiss.

"Let me mama," he was begging at this point we pulled away from each other as we made eye contact.

He pressed his lips against mine again, and I couldn't help but think, 'Wow, he's an incredible kisser.' As I playfully tugged at his hair, he lifted me by the thighs and set me down on the stage. It felt as if I was craving even more of this electrifying connection.

"You don't know what you're asking for Joshua...you'll get tired of me especially while you're on the road," he smiled at me before placing another soft kiss on my lips.

"You're just assuming mama...imma show you tonight when I see you aight?" he said softly as I nodded my head.

'Maybe he's right maybe I am just assuming things right now but was I ready to be open and vulnerable for him?'

'Would I be enough for him?'

Jey pressed his lips gently against my cheek and then my palm before stepping out the door, leaving me in a surprising state of arousal that I hadn't even realized until that moment. Questions flooded my mind: 'Am I really drawn to him?' 'Did he just ignite this unexpected desire within me?'

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

JEY As I left the club, I found myself behind the wheel, heading to my twin brother's house. I needed to talk about what had just happened with Desiree. She seemed so distant and guarded, and I couldn't shake the feeling that her behavior was tied to something from her past that I was unaware of.

Her voice echoed in my mind, saying, 'I'm not good enough for you, Joshua,' 'You'll grow weary of me, especially when you're away,' 'I'm a damaged person.' What did she really mean by that? Was there something significant that I should be aware of?

As I arrived at their house, I noticed their car sitting in the driveway. I switched off my engine and made my way to the front door, knocking and eagerly anticipating Trin's arrival to greet me.

As I waited for Trin to arrive at the door, I found myself scrolling through my social media. That's when I noticed Desiree had shared something on her story, and I couldn't help but think how absolutely stunning she looked.

I felt my dick harden at the sight of her, and the way she was practicing on that pole in her small attire really turned me on. I took a time to acclimate, and when I looked up to see the door opening, I saw Trin smiling.

"Brother! Welcome in," Trinity said.

"What's good sis," I said as me and her gave each other a hug, I saw Tank and Marley running up towards me wanting some love as well.

As I gently petted both of them, I made my way into the house, carefully removing my shoes and placing them on the shoe rack. I then headed to the refrigerator to grab a drink, all while hearing Jon's footsteps approaching.

"Yo! Uce! What's Hannin dawg!"

Me and Jon dapped up each other while sitting on the couch together, "so you ready for this upcoming match on Raw?" he asked as I nodded my head.

"Yeah, fasho but I have something to tell yall if that's cool," I said.

"What's up brother?"

I let out a deep sigh as thoughts of Desiree filled my mind. "You remember how Bianca is always raving about her best friend? Well, it turns out she actually lives here with her while she's on tour and works at a strip club," I shared.

I shared a stunning photo of her from her Instagram, knowing they would be captivated by her beauty and the grace with which she danced on the pole.

"Her best friend is really pretty honestly I would love to meet her," Trinity said.

"What's that got to do with you, Uce? Are you into her or what?" I glanced up at them, a slight grin on my face. Yes, I had a crush on her; her beauty had me completely enchanted, and I couldn't resist the thought of making her mine before long.

I could feel my brother jostling me as we both burst into laughter, watching Trinity roll her eyes in exasperation. "She's unique, unlike any girl I've ever dated, but I can't shake the feeling that my clueless cousin might try to make a move tonight," I remarked.

"Zilla? Oh no baby he's a player and we all know it so you better make a move," she said.

"That's the problem she seems scared and closed off from everyone and just keeps to herself," I said.

"Well you gotta prove it to her when you see her before we hit the road," I agreed with her I had to make a move before Zilla could knowing how he is.

I was in love with this girl

I chose to send her a thoughtful message to express my sincerity about our conversation. My goal was to encourage her to be open and vulnerable with me tonight, fostering a deeper connection between us. I believe that by sharing our true selves, we can strengthen our bond and ensure that we stay in touch when I return to see her.

IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua💵: Mamas? Desiree🦋: hm? Joshua💵: you know can trust me Desiree🦋: Josh I'm not good person Joshua💵: how so? Tell me how are you not a good person? Desiree🦋: I've been through a lot Josh that I don't wanna get into I'll see you tonight Joshua💵: don't shut me out mama Desiree🦋: I gotta go Josh

I let out a deep breath, sensing that she's holding back something important. But tonight, I'm determined to uncover it. I genuinely care for her, and I want her to be by my side, completely.

"You really like Bianca's best friend huh Uce?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah I do, I guess love at first sight does exist," I said.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

After staying at Trin and Jon's house for bit longer I was sitting in their living room watching some television until it was time for me to see Desiree at the strip club, I couldn't stop thinking about her especially while watching TV my dick got hard just wanting to be near her I had to adjust myself again.

I felt my phone buzz, and as I glanced at the screen, I noticed a message from Zilla. With a sigh, I rolled my eyes while reading what she had to say.

IMESSAGE 💬 Zilla🩸: Uce! We heading to the club tonight I call dibs on that one shawty Jey🩸: Desiree? Nah she all mines for tonight why don't you have Ke'Liyah Zilla🩸: C'mon Uce let me at least have a little good time with her Jey🩸: nah dawg she's mine Zilla🩸: fine whatever but next time imma get with her Jey🩸: whatever I'll see yall there then Zilla🩸: aight then

I wasn't about to let him just come in and leave with Desiree; she was my focus for the night. I made a promise to her that I would demonstrate just how serious I am about our connection. I wanted her to feel comfortable and open with me, but I also longed to make love to her and deepen our bond.

I started browsing through my social media, catching up on everyone's Instagram stories. That's when I came across Desiree's post, showcasing the adorable outfit she planned to wear tonight. I couldn't resist and decided to slide into her DMs.

IG MESSAGES 💬 uceyjucey: damn mama you look good in that 😩😩 desifromtheblock: thank you papa 🫶🏽 uceyjucey: papa? girl you better stop playing with me Desiree desifromtheblock: are you still coming tonight like you promised me uceyjucey: yes mama imma be there be patient desifromtheblock: I just don't wanna get my hopes up that's all uceyjucey: well imma be there aight? desifromtheblock: okay... uceyjucey: what's up mama I can feel your energy is off right now desifromtheblock: it's nothing I'm okay uceyjucey: un-un don't do that what I say about shutting me out? I'm tryna get to know you Desiree desifromtheblock: why tho Joshua? I'm not special I'm not important I'm not the prettiest girl either there are a bunch of girls in here that you could've choose from but why me?

'There it is her feelings are starting to come out,'

uceyjucey: Desiree I choose you because you caught my eye when I walked in there especially after having that session with Ke'Liyah it was you always been you

desifromtheblock: I am a broken person Josh it's going to drain you uceyjucey: Idc mama idc let me take care of you baby I don't need you to be pushing me away desifromtheblock: I gotta go Josh uceyjucey: nah stop running from me Desiree I'm not here to have fun, use you, play you like a dummy I'm fr mama desifromtheblock: I-I...I'll talk to you when you get here

I let out a deep sigh, running my fingers through my beard. I realize I need to demonstrate my feelings rather than just explain them. From what I gather, it appears she has endured a difficult relationship prior to our time together.

I need to show her that she has nothing to fear. It's important to me that she feels safe and secure when she's with a good man like me.

I informed Jon and Trin that I was getting ready to go to the club and promised to update them tomorrow. As I started the car and cranked up the music, I also let Zilla know I was in route to the club.

I took a blunt from my glove department lighting it up while heading towards the strip club to see Desiree I took a puff out of the blunt feeling my body getting heavy listening to some Kendrick Lamar in the car.

I had no idea I would end up falling for someone like her. Honestly, she was truly one of a kind.

I put out the blunt as I turned off the car after finally arriving at the strip club and observing how crowded it is for tonight—likely some horny bastards merely looking to get some pussy and dick sucked.

As I glanced back at my car to confirm my parking spot, I stepped into the building and was immediately struck by the lively atmosphere. The place was buzzing with people, and among them was Ke'Liyah, captivating the crowd as she danced on the pole, with guys eagerly tossing their cash in her direction.

As I approached the table, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the sight of Zilla and the others gathered there. We exchanged friendly greetings before diving into conversation.

"Look at all of these girls Uce, they is sexy as fuck you feel me," Zilla said.

"Yeah, I agree with you dawg," I said averting my attention trying to find Desiree.

My gaze drifted in search of her, completely oblivious to the girls approaching us. They held no interest for me; my heart was set on Desiree. Just as I continued my search, my cousin nudged me, pulling me back to the moment. "Ain't that yo' girl right there Uce?" he said.

She stood there, looking stunning in that outfit, dancing on the pole across the room, and it was driving me wild. I couldn't resist getting up from my seat and making my way toward her, but just as I was about to reach her, an arm blocked my path. I turned to find Ke'Liyah standing right there.

"Why don't you come play with me instead of the newbie daddy?" she said as I yanked my arm away from her.

"Nah, I'm good finna go see what she's about," I said.

"She's not even that good in the bed like I am, or even at the pole she just wants to be a pick me," I couldn't believe what I was hearing right now.

Desiree's guarded demeanor made perfect sense to me; the girls here were genuinely bullies. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I made my way toward her. Leaning against the wall, I watched her gracefully navigate the pole, executing the same mesmerizing move she had performed earlier that morning. 'My heart raced—she looked absolutely divine.' When our eyes met, she flashed a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment that I had kept my word.

I ran my tongue along my lips, then tucked them in as I gazed at her with an intense hunger, a silent promise that she would be mine by the end of the night.

I had fantasies about her bouncing on my dick in that exact same manner because of the way she was tossing her ass back up and down on the floor. 'She's making me incredibly lustful right now; I need her, I want her, I want her in every way.' Her attractive face simply captivates me.

I have to confess that I wasn't comfortable with the way those men were all over her, but I understood it was part of her job. As I made my way across the floor toward the stage, I couldn't help but notice the way her body moved.

Desiree approached me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I playfully smacked her backside before adding some bands, knowing she truly deserved it. As she leaned in, her soft hands cradled my face, and she pressed a sweet kiss on my lips. In that moment, I felt an overwhelming urge to pull her close and show my affection right there, but I managed to hold back, keeping my composure in front of everyone.

"You didn't break your promise, that makes me happy." She whispered.

I caressed her cheek, "I told you mama, you can't always assume," I whisper softly before placing some more money in her chest.

She stepped off the stage, grasping my hand and leading me to the couch. With a gentle push, she lowered me down and positioned herself on top, moving against me in a captivating rhythm.

My hands rested firmly on her hips, steering her movements to the beat of the music. I pushed my hips up, letting her feel the intensity of my desire for her in this moment. 'What am I going to do with her?' I wondered, as I playfully smacked her backside, reveling in the connection between us. It was clear she was relishing this experience just as much as I was.

She moved in closer, her lips brushing against my neck, prompting me to tilt my head to the side. I couldn't resist the urge to grasp her curves, playfully squeezing as I did.

Desiree's gentle kisses danced along my neck, her hands exploring my chest and legs, igniting a fire within me. I was as hard as a rock, overwhelmed by the moment. With a surge of passion, I lifted her by her thighs and carried her to one of the private rooms, eager to embrace the intimacy that awaited us.

I closed the door softly, gently placing her on the bed as I positioned myself between her legs, her gaze fixed on me. With a confident motion, I removed my shirt, revealing my tribal tattoos, before sliding her panties aside.

As our lips met in a tender embrace, the intensity of our kiss ignited a fire between us. This moment was a stark contrast to the gentle peck I had given her earlier that morning; it was a kiss fueled by desire and longing, a hungry connection that spoke volumes about our passion for one another.

My tongue was exploring her mouth as she tugged onto my mullet yearning for more as I began to rub her wet folds I could feel her flinch at my sudden touch.

She felt super wet as I continued to rub her slick folds moving her straps to the side massaging her breast while she moaned between the kiss.

We pulled away from each other as I grabbed her breast sucking on her nipple while giving her pussy a slap.

"Show me Joshua...prove to me...that you're different...prove to me that I'm the only one you want in this club right now," she begged.

I proceeded to sticked two fingers two fingers inside of her warm cunt gentle thrusting my fingers in and out of her hearing nothing my sticky sounds as she began moaning my name.

We kept that eye contact with each other while I placed a soft kiss on her lips watching her take my fingers so well I brushed up against her g-spot with my fingers causing her to squirm.

She held her legs up as I put my face into her wet pussy flicking my tongue on her slick folds feeling Desiree jolt.

I was making out with her pussy while picking up the pace with my fingers deep inside of her while she was tugging on my hair.

"O-oh...F-fuckk..." Desiree moaned.

She gazed down at me while I was focusing on her and only her as she threw her head back in pleasure something she hadn't experienced before, keeping her legs up for me like a good girl that she is.

I rolled my tongue on her clit gazing up at her seeing her fold and gripping onto her legs for dear life, "you can handle it right baby?" I muttered.

"Yes Josh yes...fuck..." she breathed out.

I was eating her wet cunt like it was a lunch she tasted so sweet and savory I wanted to eat her out every single day if I wanted too, slurping her up like some jello working my tongue on her.

I knew that she was about to come I pulled my fingers from her wetness as she whined which made me chuckle at her seeing her face all pouty.

I proceeded to pull down my sweats along with my boxers seeing my dick spring up hitting my stomach as her eyes went wide at the sight of it.

"It's big...I don't know if it'll fit me..." Desiree said.

I leaned in forward giving her a kiss on the lips stroking my dick before aligning myself. "I'll make it fit mama don't worry just lay back and let me take care of you," I said as she did what she was told.

I aligned myself into her entrance as I slowly pushed myself inside of her warmth, I could see her eyes rolling in the back of her head while I gave her slow and steady strokes.

She felt so good wrapped around me while I proceeded to kiss her all over her body and neck placing marks on it claiming her to be mine.

Her body was so gorgeous

I pushed her legs back pushing my dick deeper into her wet cunt feeling her clenching around me causing me curse underneath my breath.

"you gotta let me in mama, fuck you feel so good," I grunted as I gripped her hips tightly.

"You're so deep Josh...fuck..." she moaned while feeling up on my chest.

She was so perfect feeling all up on me like this feeling my dick harden inside of her, all you could hear was her gushy insides in the background while the music was muffled.

I was pounding her pussy so good had her ass seeing stars making me throw my head back in pleasure, I leaned in closer to her face placing my forehead on hers tonguing her down as she wrapped her arms around my body.

I was giving her every single inch of me while her nails were digging inside on my back causing me to hiss but I didn't mind it at all, I sped up my pace beating up her mushy insides hearing her beautiful moans in my ear.

"Ouuu, fuckkkk Joshuaaaa, you fucking me so good,"

"yeah, let daddy have his way with you mama, this my pussy you hear me?" I growled giving her thigh a slap while she nodded her head.

I thrusted harder inside of her taking her to the oblivion as she screamed loudly, trying to push me away which caused me to wrap my hand around her throat fucking the brains out of her pussy.

"I-I...F-fuck..."

"Take this shit, don't run from me baby," I tucked the bottom of my lip in gazing down at her with my dark gaze. 'She's so fucking pretty fuck,'

My dick was gliding through her g-spot circling my hips hitting her spot so good I felt her legs tightening up signaling that she was going to come.

It felt like I was inside of her stomach as she began choking me too which caught me off guard but I like that type of shit, "C'mon baby doll give it to me, cum all over me mama I want it," I whispered in her ear.

I could feel her body twitching while I was talking her through it in her ear seeing her eyes roll, I pressed my other hand against her stomach encouraging her to make a mess on me.

She let out a loud moan feeling her body twitching as I continued to pound her pussy in like no other feeling all of her cream on my dick sounding gushy and sticky.

Something I love to hear

"Look at you mama, taking me so well baby,"

My movement began sloppier and sloppier by every single thrust I was giving her feeling my dick twitch inside of her, her pussy was so good I was about to bust real quick.

Speeding up my pace while she was throwing her head back in the sheets tucking her bottom lip in with her teeth gazing up at me with her innocent eyes that just turned me on a lot.

She was tugging on the sheets, "oh my god...joshuaaaa...fuck..." Desiree moaned.

I cursed underneath my breath, "I'm finna nut mama, I'm finna nut," I warned her while continuing to fuck her silly.

After a few more strokes I pulled out from her seeing her cream coated on my dick as my warm seeds began shooting out from my peep hole like a volcano onto her stomach.

I rose from the bed and made my way to the bathroom to grab some tissue, ready to help her as she lay there, feeling utterly defeated. When I returned, I found her still waiting for me, needing my assistance to clean her up.

I tidied up her stomach gently before planting a soft kiss on her neck. Then, I settled beside her, drawing her closer, showering her with the affection she truly deserved.

"Talk to me mama, you okay?" I asked as she opened her eyes looking at me.

"I never felt this way about somebody before, it's been a whole three years to be honest," she confessed.

I sat up straight, absorbing her frustrations as she expressed, 'All I wanted was for her to talk to me instead of shutting me out.' I arched an eyebrow in curiosity and asked, "What do you mean by that?"

She began to express her frustrations about being trapped in an abusive relationship with someone who failed to appreciate her as a person, treating her more like a worn-out doll. Desiree went on to share the reasons behind her emotional walls and the defenses she built, all stemming from the pain of her previous relationship.

No wonder why she said all of that to me only to push me away but I'm still here I wasn't going anywhere

I noticed a tear rolling down her cheek and gently brushed it away with my thumb before pressing my lips to hers. Then, I rested my forehead against hers, tenderly cradling her chin in my hand.

"Hey, look at me baby, I will never do anything like that to you I can't imagine you going through that," I said.

"How can I believe you? How can I trust you, I told you I am no good I will constantly overthink and accuse you of things," she said.

"That's fine mama, I'm not leaving you I am here to reassure you and love you correctly if you let me,"

I meant every word I said: I want to be her source of tranquility, her sole refuge. It doesn't matter to me if she doubts my intentions or overanalyzes my actions; I have confidence in who I am.

"I have to think on it Josh, it's been so long since I've been in a relationship,"

I empathized with her perspective and felt it was important to allow her the time she needed. My goal was to continuously demonstrate that I was nothing like him.

"I'll give you time mama, but I want to prove it to you too that I'm not playing around," I said she nodded her head.

I could feel her feeling on my tattoos admiring my ink on my body and arms, "when are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning gotta catch a flight, I'll text you, hell might fly yo' cute ass out there whenever," I could see a smile appearing on her face as she pulled me in for a kiss.

As we rose from the bed, slipping into our clothes and making our way out of the room, the music thumped loudly in the background. I noticed Ke'Liyah giving us a fierce look, but it didn't faze me. I was determined to show everyone that Desiree was mine.

I faced Desiree grabbing her cheeks caressing them with my thumbs placing my lips on hers, "I'll let you get back to work mama I'll text you aight?" I said.

She flashed me a smile before making her way to the locker rooms, and that's when I felt a slight shove. Turning around, I found Ke'Liyah right in my face.

"Why were you with her? Don't tell me you fucked her," Ke'Liyah said while I scoffed in disbelief.

"I did and it was the best sex I ever had with her than you so if you excuse me I gotta go," I said as I left her standing there.

I knew it was going to be some shit when I messed with Ke'Liyah but I hope nothing happens to Desiree while I'm gone on the road hopefully everything will be okay

NOVACANE

A/n: man oh man Desiree girl you better let him in fr fr but I understand that she needs time to think things over before just jumping into another relationship.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[guywhowatches]

An Office Interview (Part 1)

You felt nervous heading into the building, unsure of what your new job even was. You still didn't even know if you wanted to work here as you weren't that familiar with business of any kind. You'd just seen that they were hiring on the website, and that it didn't require any kind of University degree or even background knowledge of the company. Although, you did find that a little strange. Nevertheless, you desperately needed the job and the money, whatever it was, as nowhere else had been willing to hire you.

As you entered the large main hall, you noticed a man leaning against the desk facing away from you. He was wearing a black fancy suit, matching your own that you wore to make the best impression you could. However, what really drew your attention was his large bubble butt, held up tightly by his suit pants. It was so big and thick that it looked as though it would rip his suit in two at any moment.

As you were fixated by this, the man turned around and saw you staring at him. He then smiled and walked over to you.

"Ahh, you must be the new recruit, correct? I'm Mr Richards." He stuck out his hand for you to shake. You didn't respond instantly, as you were too busy fixated on the rest of his looks. He was a few inches taller than you, with slick brown hair, a small stubbly beard and other features about him that left you almost dazed. However, you quickly recovered and shook his hand.

"Yes, sir, it's a pleasure to be here and I hope I'll be satisfactory to your needs." You felt so scared looking at him up close. He had quite the commanding and tough look about him.

"Hmm, well I'll be the judge of that. Follow me upstairs please." And he turned around, again pointing his large ass at you and walked off. You quickly trailed after him, trying to look anywhere else apart from his butt, which wasn't easy to do with how distracting it was. You even noticed it bouncing a little with each step he took.

The next few minutes dragged by with Mr Stevens showing you round a few different areas, like the canteen and a few offices. Once this was over, you began to climb a flight of stairs.

"And just up here, you'll see with have the- Oh, hold on." He stopped mid-sentence, before leaning against the handrail, almost squinting his eyes. You were a little confused as to what was happening before a loud noise filled the area.

PRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPTT

You jumped in shock, and looked at Mr Richards in alarm. Had he seriously just farted like that, in front of you, with no hesitation? How and why would he do that? You wanted to ask about this, but then the stink of his wind crept into your nostrils and it was pretty bad to say the least. There was an eggy tang to it that caused you to gag a little.

"Ahh, that's better. The cafeteria food's always messing with my stomach. Now then, shall we continue?" He stood back up formally, with a smile. What, how could he just carry on like nothing had happened? You were about to complain, but he headed up the stairs as you were still recovering from the stench. Maybe this was a test to prove your strength? You decided to let it slip for now, as you still wanted to get the job.

If that was a test however, then these next few minutes felt like an endless exam. Now, with every room he showed you, he would let loose a billowing fart from his enormous backside. Each one just as smelly, if not worse, than the previous one.

"Here you'll find the break room, where we relax and let off some steam." RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPTTT

"Here are the main offices, but you don't need to worry about it. It's just all hot air." FRAAAAAAAAARP FFRRRRRTT

"Here's the meeting room, where we discuss important things such as gas prices, among other things." PPRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPP

As this carried on, the stink became more and more unbearable. You really wanted to complain now, as you felt like you would pass out from the smell. Yet you couldn't for 2 reason. One being that every time you opened your mouth, you swore you could almost taste it, leaving you unable to speak properly from your gagging. And the other being, you just wanted to get the job, as you were so desperate for payment. Hopefully, if you did get the job, you would be put in an office as far away from Mr Richards and his enormous flatulent backside as you could.

Although, with each time he would rip one in front of you, you couldn't help but notice that he had a small smirk on his face, with each time you refrained from coughing on his stink. Was he enjoying this, or were you imagining it?

Finally, you came up to a door, that had a symbol of it. You could tell that it was a toilet door. You weren't sure why he was showing you this though.

"And here we have the toilet cubicle. You'll find at least 4 of these on each floor." As he finished talking, you braced yourself for if he would fart again, but thankfully it didn't seem to happen this time. You were hoping that you would be able to move on when suddenly you heard a flushing noise from behind the toilet door. A few seconds later, a man walked out. He was around the same height as Mr Richards, except with more messy black hair.

As the door swung open, you instantly recoiled from the smell that protruded out the room. It was quite obvious what had occurred in there and it reeked to high heaven. You desperately tried to waft away the stench.

"Ah, hello Richards, you alright?" Said the man, smiling at Mr Richards, as he straightened his suit pants.

"I'm all good, thanks Steven. Just showing the new guy around, seeing if he's up for the job." Richards responded, both of them ignoring your suffering. Steven looked down at you and smiled, with an almost mean look.

"I see, well don't go too hard on him. We may all need him later." What on earth did that mean? You weren't sure if you liked the sound of it.

"Don't worry, he's doing alright so far, and I'll make sure he's fine enough for now." Mr Richards responded causing Steven to chuckle.

"Alright then Richards, I'll see you later." He then turned to look at you. "I look forward to having you around. Oh and kid... I'd give that a few hours before going there, if I were you." He said, grinning and pointing to the toilet door. "Maybe even a day or so, with a nose like yours." He then walked away, chuckling. Why would he say something like that?

FRAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPTTT

You then suddenly jumped in the air, and looked behind you, only to be met with Steven's ass a few inches away from your face. He'd stuck his backside out a bit, in attempt to give it some more force. Because of the distance, it meant that the smell hit you instantly, and it was almost as bad as the ones Mr Richards had been letting out, but now with a combined smell of crap.

"Hah, post-dump farts, am I right? See you later." Steven said, before laughing and walking away. As you were still retching on this ungodly stink, Mr Richards looked at you.

"He's quite the character isn't he. Now come on, I have one last place to show you." And, acting like nothing had happened, he headed off again.

For a second, you really thought about leaving now. What kind of place was this that had them all acting like this, it was truly disgusting. However, maybe you were just misjudging and it only happened to be just these 2 that were this vile. Maybe you could talk to the boss and ask them to keep you away from these 2. It looked to be your only hope. So, you carried on. You tried to stay beside Mr Richards instead of being downwind of him.

Eventually, you came to a big door that you assume led into the bosses office. Once outside, Mr Richards turned around to look at you.

"Now, I'm going to go in and chat with the others inside and then we'll call you in for the interview, understand?" You nodded slowly, still feeling very cautious. You also didn't like how he'd be one of the people interviewing you, but hopefully he wouldn't pass gas in front of them, right?

"Very good. Oh, wait a second." He then proceeded to grunt again, much to your dismay.

PRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAARPPPPPPPPPPP

"Phewy." He said, smiling. "My ass sure is chatty today. Maybe he should be giving you the interview instead of me." You stared in disbelief at him, as he turned around and knocked on the door. How could he make jokes about something so horrible? Was your suffering on his rancid fumes just one big joke to him. You quickly covered you nose, with his ass now pointing at you again. Perhaps this job wasn't worth it after all.

Just then, the door opened, and you could see 2 other men you didn't recognise sitting behind a desk. They were both big and beefy, and their suits looked almost too tight for them.

"Hey Richards, you got the newbie with you?" Said the one on the right.

"Sure have Brain." Said Mr Richards, smugly standing aside, revealing you to them. You tried to stand up straight, looking as formal as possible, though it was a little hard to do, with Richards lingering stink still fumigating your nostrils. Also, you couldn't help but feel like the stink had gotten worse, when the door opened, but perhaps you were imagining it.

"Ooh, he's a cutie, can't wait to start working with him." You could've sworn you heard the one on the left say. Did he say that, or was your mind just messed up from the smell. You couldn't be sure.

"Yeah, he's been pretty obedient so far. I need to talk with you both for a sec." Mr Richards then turned back to me. "You wait out here, and I'll come and collect in a few minutes." He looked so tough and commanding, that you didn't dare feel like talking back to him. As he turned around to grab the door, he looked back at you at squinted his face.

FFFFFFFRAAAAAAARRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT

You felt like you were nearly blown off you feet from the sheer force of the blast that shot out his bubble butt. You managed to steady yourself, but it still caught you off guard. The smell that followed didn't make it any better.

"Oops, must've slipped out." He said, closing the door, leaving you gagging and coughing. From behind the door, you swore you could hear them laughing.

Just what kind of job and business was this?

------------------------------------------------------

To be continued (maybe, probably, idk?)

[niobiumao3]

Anyways, here are some random tidbits I swear I'm not actually writing this except maybe I am who knows anyways...

At the time she convinced herself it couldn't be him. They'd killed any clones whose chips hadn't activated. So it was just her imagination, a desperate attempt to find any excuse to cling to the hope he'd survived, as she had, probably for similar reasons: pure, stubborn refusal to let the Empire win.

***

Later she would accept that she'd known it was him from the moment she saw him standing in the line up. Not because she could see his face--they were all helmeted and wearing identical, dusky black armor--but because she'd have known him anywhere by stance and posture alone. They'd not fought side by side in the war for over three years for her to forget him, any of them really but especially not him.

But won they had. Memories of her life before the Inquisitorious were fragments, seemed more like dreams described by a different person. A wild young Jedi and her squadron of variant clones. It sounded like a children's story, in some ways was less painful to tell herself that's all it was. Otherwise--

"Your assigned operative will be CX-2."

The Grand Inquisitor's voice drew Fifth Sister back to the present. Though the armor the clones wore was all identical, not all of them were the same size. The one they'd stopped in front of was taller than average, shoulders broader. This was important somehow. (Another way she knew it was him.)

Fifth Sister looked the operative up and down. His hands were clasped behind his back like the others, and he stood perfectly still. This wasn't the stillness of rest: he was poised, ready, waiting. A knocked arrow.

"CX-2," she said, and the operative nodded an acknowledgement. She looked askance at the Grand Inquisitor. He and his own operative--CX-1, a shorter clone with a broad chest--were watching the two of them intently.

"How do I refer to him?"

"Operative should be sufficient," the Grand Inquisitor said. Fifth Sister made a face.

"Won't that be confusing if multiple of us are assigned to the same mission?"

The Grand Inquisitor shrugged. "You can use the designation in such cases."

She fought down a sigh, considered the operative in front of her. He gave the distinct impression he wasn't looking at her, which annoyed her for some unfathomable reason. Why should she care if he paid attention to her, as long as he followed orders?

The Grand Inquisitor held out a hand to his operative, who gave him a datarod. "Your first mission is to intercept a shipment of cargo bound for []." He offered her the datarod. Fifth Sister took it, eyes narrowed.

"Cargo," she echoed. The Grand Inquisitor arched an eyebrow at her.

She considered his expression. There was only one kind of 'cargo' with which the Inquisitorious concerned itself. "Force-users."

"Very good," he said. But he was still waiting. Which meant...

"Potentials."

The operative in front of her said, "Younglings."

It almost startled her to hear him speak. His voice was modulated, rendering it garbled and rough. And he'd just corrected her.

"Potentials are by necessity young," she said, voice sharp.

Either be didn't notice, or didn't care, because he said, "Not always. You were not."

Probably sensing the fury swirling into being within her, the Grand Inquisitor said, "Quite right, CX-2. However, that was only to found the Inquisitorious. From this point forward our potentials will be younglings."

The operative's head tilted for a moment, then he nodded. Fifth Sister took the time given by this interruption to reign in her anger. Killing her operative for the high crime of being precise wouldn't go over well with her superior.

The Grand Inquisitor continued, "You have three standard rotations. Report in if you require assistance or if the mission exceeds these parameters."

Fifth Sister nodded, jerked her head at the operative and strode towards the hangar deck. He was tall enough she had no hope of outpacing him without use of the Force, another minor irritation.

After a minute or so she realized he was careful to keep his distance behind her precise, even if she slowed down. He never allowed himself to be in front of her. In her way.

"It's going to be hard to address you if you're always behind me."

"I can hear you perfectly fine from this position."

"But you can't see my face. My expression."

"I am unclear on how that is useful."

"Depending on the situation I'm not always going to be able to say what I mean."

"I am more than intelligent enough to intuit such instances."

"*Really* . So this isn't just an excuse to get a good look?"

Confusion rippled around him in the Force. "At what?"

She sighed, shook her head. "Nevermind."

***

"It would be best if we--"

She tied off the bandage with a sharp yank, causing him to fall silence with a grunt. Between cleanup around the other gash, she said, "If you're about to suggest something *idiotic* like I should leave you here so I can return the [] and then come back for you? You can keep that shit to yourself."

Her voice was sharp and even, the way it was when she was well and truly angry. Yet unlike in those moments, when he sometimes thought he could feel the Force rising around her, aiming to strike down her enemy, there was something else hovering around her. Tenuous, wavering. Brittle.

"I was not going to recommend you return for me."

She made a frustrated sound, looked away. "You really think I should leave you hear for the sake of some--some fucking *missives*. We don't even know if they'll be useful."

"They are vital to the mission."

She started to say something, stopped. A sensation ripplied through him almost like fear. Almost. He didn't know what she'd been about to say, except some part of him *did* know, knew it was something they couldn't come back from. Best to not give voice to it, make it real.

She licked her lips. "I'm not likely to get out of here without you anyways."

"That is untrue." He took up his datapad, winced as the bandage on his side pulled. He took a moment to catch his breath, brought up the schematics. "There is a route here which will be possible for you to use. Together we would likely be seen or caught, but on your own it--"

"Not an option."

He held in a sigh. No one could move her when she dug in her heels like this, save the Grand Inquisitor, sometimes Fourth Sister. "If you are not back in one rotation they will depart without you. Those were the mission parameters."

"Then we find our way back on our own."

"My injuries are such that leaving this planet without the asistance of Imperial resources will be extremely difficult, if not simply--"

The medkit next to him rattled, the lantern jostled. He fell silent, waited and watched as she struggled her eyes shut, one hand formed into a fist so tight her nails would have drawn blood from her palm if not for her gloves.

The tremor abated. "I am not. Leaving you here. And that is *final*."

He sighed, considered his datapad again. In the corner of his eye he noted a hairline fracture in the lantern's shroud. "In that case."

[humming-fly]

He was feeling left out

and the higher rez stills, since gifs always export as if you're sending messages through a metal can~

[saeiken]

the anime announcement has me so excited abt wha again :>

[hakusins]

tw // scars, blood, bruises, piercings, cigarettes, a bit of ooc?

man, i love whitney

[poorlydrawnandroids]

Happy Activation Day to these two silly boys!!

We’re just 14 years away from their creation, aww <3

[justgleekout]

“I can feel my body eroding”