#i hope i could help one of yall to see the light | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ayyy-pee · 4 months ago

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Pairing: Model!Shoko Ieri x Female Reader, Model!Utahime Iori x Female Reader, Shokohime x Female Reader

Summary: You're a top Public Relations manager covering Tokyo Fashion Week. All the drugs, sex and outrageous going ons never see the light of day. Why? Because it's your job to cover up scandal.

But that doesn't mean you can't have your own risky fun.

Story Warning: Smut, LESBIANS, Reader works in Public Relations, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of hookups, Bath sex, Bathtub Threesome, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Profanity bc c'mon...it's me, Vaginal Bumping and Grinding, Referenced STRAP usage, Fingering, Secret Flings, Sneaky Sex, Dub-con? (Reader and ShokoHime have a few drinks...but do consent to sex), Sneaking Around, Secret Recordings

Art by: Cake__Sensei (Twitter)

A/N: I FINALLY finished something for my Jujutsu Journal Collab Event! I hope yall enjoy!!! Thank you to everyone participating and for everyone who has helped me to reach 3k followers!!!

You’ve always loved the fast paced feel of Tokyo Fashion Week. The bright lights flashing and catching every crease and detail of the fabrics on display. The music thumping and crowd cheering as the models strut down the runway. The chaos backstage as everyone rushes to slip in and out of the next garment in time for their cue. Yes, you loved being a part of that feeling, you loved capturing that feeling. Because it was your job to catch every crease and detail, the sexy walks of the models, the mayhem that happens behind the scenes while the audience patiently waits.

It’s exhilarating, really. Being invited to such elite and exclusive events has changed your life in ways you could have never imagined. When you first started your career in fashion, you would have never dreamed of making it this far. This was worlds away from filming street fashion on your shitty little cell phone and interviewing small time designers. But you’ve worked so hard, worked even smarter and have networked your way to the top of your department.

And now, you're the head of the PR team for one of the top fashion magazines in Japan, currently assigned to cover the after party of Tokyo Fashion Week to collect enough content for a post show documentary.

The after party is as wild as you’d imagined it would be. The ritziness and glam of the actual fashion show can hardly be found here. It’s all thumping loud music, raunchy dancing and paraphernalia scattered across various surfaces.

Looking for sweaty bodies bumping and grinding in off the runway Dior? You’ll find it here.

Want to catch someone snorting a line in vintage Chanel? Just turn your head in any direction, really.

Can you see a pair of this season’s YSL heels peeking out from around the corner where someone is on their knees giving the sloppiest blowjob? Absolutely.

And it’s your job to make sure that what’s happening here never sees the light of day.

You love scandal, because it gives you a job, pays your bills and keeps your lights on and food in your fridge. As long as some celebrity is getting into shit they’re not supposed to, you’ll always have a job. But outside of work, you loathe scandal, avoid it at all costs because the biggest cost would be your career. Sure, you’ve joined in on the fun, partook in scandalous behavior from time to time, but you’re always careful. There are never any traces, never any receipts, never any damning evidence that could lead back to you.

No one will ever know that you spent a weekend in Bali with famous pop musician Satoru Gojo while his wife waited patiently for him to return from “filming” a new music video.

They will also never know about your brief tryst with his best friend, Suguru Geto in Nara, Seoul and Bora Bora. Not even Satoru.

And your romantic holiday trip with award winning actress Yuki Tsukumo? As far as everyone else knows, it never happened.

See, you were that damn good at your job. That’s why you were the head of your PR team, after all. It’s why you knew exactly where to direct your videographer to point their camera. You spot the rolled dollar bills and white lines before they can react, finger pushing the camera sideways to focus on something else.

Lo and behold, it points to a group of models standing casually off to the side of the party as they mingle with guests. You recognize one face among the crowd, those deep purple bags beneath his eyes highlighted by the flashing neon lights.

It’s Choso, a model, with his hair up in space buns, a part of his styling. He’s dressed to the nines in the most stylish streetwear of the season, his signature Prada combat boots on.

You’ve known Choso for quite some time, often running into each other at these afterparties. Years ago, in the early hours of the morning, you’d clumsily attempted a drunk hookup. Every kiss, every touch, every attempt to work each other up to something more amounted to nothing. It ended with you both tangled in each other’s arms, falling apart with laughter. And so, you’d decided you were better off as friends, and had become quite close since. It worked better for you both that way. You just weren’t into each other like that.

But Choso has been a good friend to you. You often find yourself hanging out together after the chaos of the fashion show has died down and a new session of mayhem has begun for the afterparty. You haven’t seen him in months, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference because Choso spots you easily behind the camera and waves you over to his group of friends.

“Haven’t seen you since Paris,” he calls out to you as you approach. He slings an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tightly to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know! I’ve missed you!” You yell back. “How have you been?”

“Not too bad, not too bad at all. Dating someone now!”

You lean back in his hold, brows rising to your hairline. “You? In a relationship?”

You’re shocked. You’ve seen Choso go through different women, but never heard him refer to whoever he was seeing as dating. He nods, just as one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on approaches you two. Her lips quirk into a pretty smile and you can tell right away that she’s not a model. The smile is far too genuine, but that’s not to say she couldn’t be one if she wanted. She’s stunning, with smooth caramel brown skin and braids that fall down her back, and big brown eyes that you can already see Choso getting lost in as he pulls away from you to wrap his arms around her waist. He peers down at her, the awe apparent in his gaze. Like he just can’t believe he’s got her.

“Hey, babe,” he mutters just before his lips meet hers in a hungry kiss.

Oh, he’s in love, love.

Choso introduces you to his babe, Kamila and she’s as sweet as she looks. But you don’t get to talk to her much, because Choso is not willing to spend any time he’s not obligated to away from his love. You don’t blame him. She’s breathtaking. You can’t help but smile, watching as Choso and his girlfriend completely forget they’re at this party together, surrounded by people.

Which is fine, because it’s about time to wrap it up yourself so that you and your crew can also take time to enjoy the rest of the festivities.

Turning to your associate, you signal for them to hand you their camera. They quickly switch it off before placing it in your hands. “Go party,” you tell them, dismissing them for the night. “Nothing crazy,” you add. “And if it gets crazy, make sure there’s nothing that can be traced back to the company. And if something happens that can be traced back to the company, call me.”

They know the rules. They’re the same ones you follow and the same ones the company practically beat into your skull when you were first brought on. So far, they’ve worked for you. No one has been able to outsmart any of you. Your team is solid.

“Got it boss,” your cameraman exclaims. Then they’re off to get into whatever trouble the night has in store for them.

And while you’re pondering what trouble you can get into, it seems to find you first.

“Boss, huh?” A sweet voice questions behind you. You spin around to see Choso and his girlfriend are now nowhere in sight. Instead, you’re face to face with two of the most alluring women you’ve ever laid eyes on. They’re dressed in skin tight dresses that leave little to the imagination, their long legs exposed and damn they look good. You recognize them from the show and from the model roster.

The beautiful slender one with the cute little beauty mark beneath one of her tired eyes – Shoko Ieiri. She’s got a bit of an intimidating aura and a smile that has your heart pounding rapidly behind your ribcage. She’s a bit scary. And admittedly, you find it sexy.

You’ve never spoken to Shoko. The models are usually too busy working and racing around backstage to have much time to mingle. By the time the show’s over, they’re either back in their rooms or out at whatever party they can get into. But have also never heard anything negative about Shoko from any contacts in the industry, which speaks volumes to you. You hear everything. It’s easy for anyone to get their hands on anything if they try hard enough.

When there’s nothing to find, it means they’re good at keeping their dirt swept under the rug. Those are the types of people you get along best with.

Then, there’s the slightly shorter one, with a rough scar that runs from one side of her face to the other in contrast to her soft features – Utahime Iori. She’s as striking as Shoko – curvy and looks soft in all the right places.

Again, nothing crazy about Utahime. You’ve heard she’s quite the hothead, which would be quite interesting if it were true. She has a less intimidating air about her. Her big brown eyes make her seem sweeter than the woman standing beside her. It makes her all the more intriguing to you.

Regardless, they both have their pretty gazes on you and for a split second, you feel the roles reverse. In this world, you’re at the top of the food chain. Everyone else is the prey. Because you could spin any story, take any insult slung your way and crush your target. Because no one had anything on you. But for some reason, as these two women stare you down, Utahime with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and Shoko puckering her lips around the butt of a cigarette, you feel like they could destroy you.

And if there’s one thing you love, it’s a woman who feels dangerous.

So when Shoko asks if you’d like to join her and Utahime for some drinks, you really can’t say no. And you don’t want to.

- - - - - - - - -

“What’d you think of the show?” Utahime asks eagerly. You’re all seated on one of the expensive velvet sofas on the second floor of this club. Shoko has made herself comfortable, leaning back against the arm of the chair. And you’ve made yourself even more comfortable, seated between her long legs and leaning against Shoko’s chest while Utahime sits next to you, idly playing with your fingers.

You take a slow sip of your drink. It’ll probably be your last for the night. From the moment you laid eyes on these two, you knew what direction you wanted the night to go. You want to be sober enough to enjoy it.

Utahime peers up expectantly at you with those big brown eyes of hers, long lashes curling cutely and it makes your cheeks heat. The alcohol is not helping with how easily your body is responding.

“It was really good,” you finally answer. Utahime beams, a little smile beginning to grow on her lips.

“Really?” She asks, and you nod. “We did good?”

Behind you, you feel the vibration of Shoko’s chuckle rumble against your back. And as you stare down into Utahime’s eyes, it’s clear why.

Okay. This one likes praise, you note mentally. You nod again. “So good.” And you’re unable to stop the smile forming on your lips when Utahime’s grin widens. She looks over to Shoko, who lazily takes a drag of another cigarette, blowing her smoke out of the side of her mouth to avoid suffocating you. Her long fingers trail absentmindedly up and down your arm as she listens to you and Utahime continue on about the show.

You’ve noticed that Shoko isn’t very talkative. She’s more observant than anything and while that would usually bother you, there’s something about Shoko that puts you at ease. Like you can put your life in her hands and can be confident you would be alright. Maybe it’s because everything around you is always so busy, always so loud. Her silence feels grounding amongst the chaos.

But you also find her silence a little funny since she and Utahime seem to be so close. Utahime seems more the party type than Shoko does. She’s outgoing and friendly, warm and inviting. It’s such a stark contrast to Shoko, and yet they’re always with each other. Even earlier in the night, if Shoko went to the bar, Utahime was right behind her, telling you they’d be right back before chasing after her. If Utahime wanted to dance, Shoko was next to her. You suppose opposites do attract.

You suspect they’re more than just colleagues or friends and you file that tidbit away in your mind. If the night is headed where you want it to go, where you suspect it’s going to go, you need to collect any pertinent information you can beforehand.

Just in case.

“Ugh,” Shoko groans, leaning forward suddenly to smash her half finished cigarette into the ashtray on the side table next to her. “All this noise is making my head hurt.”

Utahime nods in agreement. “It has been a long day…” She sits straighter, grasping your hand tightly she asks, “Should we get going?”

Damn, you think. You’re a little disappointed to think the night is ending here. “Are you two heading home?” You’re sure the frown on your face is clear, even in the darkness of the venue. You don’t want them to go yet.

Shoko snorts, shaking her head. She leans back against the chair, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you back onto her. “No,” she breathes, and she’s so close to your ear, you can feel her breath ghost along your skin, can smell the faint mixture of nicotine and spearmint. “We don’t live anywhere near here,” she explains, fingers gliding along your skin again. “Hime and I got a reservation at one of those onsen hotels up the street.”

“It’s really nice from the pictures I saw online,” Utahime adds, a cheerful lilt to her tone when she speaks. “Can’t wait to get there.”

You can feel the shift in the atmosphere when those words leave her lips. The air is thick, heavy. You’re familiar with this feeling. You know it all too well, and your heart races in your chest. Behind you, you feel Shoko’s body tense up briefly before she relaxes.

Then Utahime is crawling along your form, moving closer to you, closer and closer, and you think she’s going to try and kiss you. And damn it, you’d let her…if it was you she was aiming for. Instead, you watch, eyes blown wide with curiosity and honestly, desire as Utahime presses her plush lips to Shoko’s. Normally, you’d be elated to know your hunch was correct, that they were in fact more than friends, but you can’t seem to care when you see their lips connect. Their kiss is sweet at first, just a few light pecks, quiet sighs between them. Until Utahime grins into the kiss, pulling back slightly to giggle at the way Shoko’s brows knit together. Shoko frowns, bringing a hand up to grip Utahime’s long chocolate tresses.

“Don’t tease me, Hime,” she breathes through gritted teeth. Then she’s pulling Utahime’s face to hers, smashing their lips together for a messy, passionate kiss. And all you can do is watch as their tongues slip into each other’s mouths, breaths heavy as they quietly moan into each kiss. It’s so sexy, the way Utahime whimpers. How Shoko nips at Utahime’s already swollen lips. How Shoko pulls you tighter against her, pressing your ass against her groin.

You’re not sure if it’s the drinks you’ve had with these girls, the cigarettes or the scent of their perfumes that has your head swimming. Hell, maybe it’s a mixture of it all, but you’re so turned on watching these beautiful women kissing in front of you. All of their lust being poured into each slot of their lips, every groan and whimper between them, it’s all so arousing. You squeeze your thighs together, prompting a soft chuckle from the woman behind you. Shoko breaks away from the kiss, releasing her hold on Utahime’s hair who pouts cutely, sitting back on her knees.

“Don’t look so sad, Hime,” Shoko coos. She turns her attention back to you. “Just seemed like someone wanted to join us.”

And you do. You want to join them real fucking bad.

But when Shoko leans forward, just trying to press a kiss to your neck, your brain suddenly crawls out of the fog. You’re out in the open, in a compromising position with two models, at that. So you move, a hand flying up to push Shoko back a little.

Her brows furrow, head tilting in confusion and she releases her hold on you. “Oh– Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…I just thought–”

“No you’re right,” you reassure them. Your eyes dart around the venue, and while everyone is likely drugged up or too drunk out of their minds to notice three girls feeling each other up in the club, you can never be too careful. “Just…not here. Let’s go back to your hotel.”

Shoko looks at Utahime, who stares at you two with eager eyes and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. “Okay! Let’s go!”

- - - - - - - - -

Shoko checks you all into the hotel, and the room is as beautiful as you’d imagine it would be. There’s a main bedroom with a fluffy king bed ready to be slept in…or not. Off to the side of the room is a small dining area, and through large glass doors is the onsen bath, the water already run by the hotel staff for you. It screams luxury. You can see the steam curling from the water and god, if you couldn’t use a bath to wash away the day.

You set your bag and camera down on the dining table. Stretching your arms over your head, you take in the room, moving across the space. “This hotel is fucking incredible,” you gasp. “I can’t believe your agency spoils you guys like this.”

Shoko laughs, kicking her heels off and setting them in the little armoire by the entrance. “Right? I was surprised myself. Make yourself at home,” she tells you from the other side of the room.

She didn’t have to tell you twice. You couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed and –

“What’s this for?”

You peek over your shoulder, eyes landing on Utahime fumbling around with the camera and panic sets in. You cannot lose that footage. “Please don’t touch that!” It comes out more forcefully than you intended and Utahime sets the camera down quickly, holding her hands up defensively.

“Sorry!”

You rush toward her, only to be stopped in your tracks by Shoko, who places her hands on your shoulders. “Hey, relax. She was just looking.” She fixes you with a small smile, running her hands soothingly along your arms. And it does calm you, the earlier fear you felt melting away. “Be glad you caught her before she dropped it.” Shoko shakes her head, releasing your shoulders before she turns, moving towards the other woman. Utahime stands still, watching and waiting as Shoko slips behind her easily. Shoko’s fingers pinch the zipper of Utahime’s dress and drag it along the fabric until her dress slowly loosens around her chest and your gaze falls to the movement. “She can be careless sometimes,” Shoko speaks softly. Her fingers glide along Utahime’s collarbone, dragging down to the swell of her breasts. “Don’t mind her.”

Shoko spins around, and Utahime follows, gently pushing Shoko’s hair aside. She presses a soft kiss to the back of Shoko’s neck and you watch as she trails kisses along the side of Shoko’s neck, pulling quiet sighs from the taller woman as she pulls the zipper until the fabric falls to the floor, revealing her bare slim form. Shoko turns back around and captures Utahime’s lips with hers, only breaking away to whisper, “Be more careful, okay?” before she’s back on her.

And all you can do is watch, the nerves you felt earlier about the camera now melted away. Beneath the soft lighting of the hotel room, they look like ethereal beings. Too innocent to be partaking in such salacious behavior. Arousal pools in your core as the vision of the two model’s tongues tangling sends you spiraling. Have you ever been so turned on, so eager to touch someone, to feel their body on yours? Even your nights spent with the most famous celebrities never had you so tempted to slip your hands into your panties.

It’s the way Shoko holds onto Utahime’s form against her own. How she reaches a hand up to pull down the loosened fabric against Utahime’s chest. How Utahime becomes exposed, her supple breasts falling gently. Utahime’s soft whimpers when the chill air ghosts along her pretty pink nipples, the buds puckering when Shoko rolls them gently between her fingers.

Shoko sighs, pulling away reluctantly. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers, hands kneading Utahime’s breasts. “So beautiful. My perfect girl.”

You can see the way Utahime’s eyes light up from across the room, a shy smile lifting the corners of her lips. “No, you,” she teases and Shoko chuckles.

Her heated gaze finds yours from across the room, how you’re watching them intently with desire clear in your eyes. Utahime follows her line of sight, and it’s clear to her what Shoko wants. She raises her hand, inviting you over to join. And you don’t hesitate. Like magnets drawn to each other, your legs carry you to them with ease.

Both women welcome you, the anticipation clear. They want this just as badly as you do, and for a moment, you wonder if their panties are just as soaked as yours. They’ve been kissing each other, touching each other, getting to taste and enjoy each other while you’ve gotten the pleasure of watching from the sidelines. Now you’re about to partake in these pleasures with them. You’re more excited than you care to admit.

Utahime takes your hand, guiding you closer and closer until you’re standing right in front of her. “Are you okay with this?” She asks, eyes locked on your parted lips and you nod your consent.

“Yes, I want this.”

Utahime’s bright eyes travel to Shoko, who watches you both with hardly concealed interest.

“This stays here, though. Right?”

You want to be sure before moving forward. Not that you were concerned, but better to have heard it with your own ears.

”Of course,” Shoko confirms. She bites down on her lip before looping an arm around your waist. Now she has both you and Utahime in her hold. “Now kiss her.”

The command has your core aching. You’ve wanted nothing more than to know what it felt like, tasted like, to kiss them. Didn’t matter who first or if it was both at the same time. You just wanted to feel their lips on yours.

And you do, when Shoko dips her head down to bury her face in your neck just as Utahime presses her mouth on yours. The moment their mouths connect with your skin, your body ignites with heat. Utahime is an amazing kisser. She has pretty, plush and soft lips that easily mold against yours. And she makes cute little noises when your tongues touch.

Shoko on the other hand, is a bit rougher, hungrier with her kisses. When she cups your cheek and breaks your kiss with Utahime by turning your head, she’s quick to nip at your lips. Her tongue slips into your mouth the second you let out a moan. While you and Shoko are heavily making out, Utahime takes this time to grab your hands, laying them against her large breasts.

“Touch me,” she sighs, squeezing your hands beneath hers and moaning at the applied pressure.

You oblige, hands running lightly over the hardened buds and you revel in the way Shoko moans a quiet “I love the way you play with her tits…” into your mouth. “I wanna see you play with her pussy later.” You whimper into the kiss, her confession making your cheeks heat. You’ll admit, this is your first threesome. It’s hard to focus, your mind is so foggy with the arousal building in your core. It’s all too much – too much movement, too much touching, too much sound and way too much going on with your own body.

Your lips tingle, almost numb from how hard and greedily Shoko kisses you. Your skin vibrates with the way Utahime is practically helping you to play with her breasts. And your panties are probably dripping with arousal right now. You are desperate to cum.

“We should get into the bath,” Utahime groans when you cup her breasts. She leans forward, nudging Shoko away from your lips. Shoko gives her hardly any space at all, taking one side of your mouth while Utahime takes the other. Then it’s all three of your tongues tangling together in this sloppy, wet kiss.

Though you’re all reluctant to break away, Shoko moves first, stepping back enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off of you, forcing Utahime back as well. You’re all breathing heavily, flushed and aroused beyond measure, but you still nod. “Yeah, let's get in bath…”

++++++++++

“Have you been with a woman before?” Shoko asks, lacing her fingers between yours as she guides you into her lap. You straddle her, though you don’t sit fully on her lap yet.

You’ve all slipped into the warmth of the deep hotel bathtub. Shoko sits half submerged on the bathtub’s built-in bench with her back against the tub’s wall. If your body was burning up before, it’s on fire now, your pulse racing after spending the last few minutes lathering each other’s bodies and kissing until your lips hurt.

“I have.”

Shoko’s brows rise, almost as if she’s surprised by the confirmation. “Two women?”

You shake your head. Nevertheless, Shoko grins as she asks, “Well? The one you’ve been with…How was it?” She pulls you closer, until your lips are hovering barely over hers, breaths mingling. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

The question hangs heavy between you two. It’s not as though answering this question would implicate you in any way, or give them any clues as to who the last woman you slept with was. So you answer honestly, just barely above a whisper. “Yeah, it was pretty good.”

Utahime giggles, gliding through the water to close the distance between you all. “She’s so cute, Shoko.”

Shoko cups your face, eyes cast down to your lips. “She is, isn’t she?” She runs her thumb along your lip teasingly before she declares, “I can give you something better than pretty good.”

“Yeah?” You challenge her.

“Yeah, she can,” Utahime confirms. “We can.” She closes the gap between you all, placing her hands on your waist from behind. You feel her wet breasts press against your back and your eyes flutter closed. Utahime is curvy in all the right places. You are no better than a man, more than turned on by the feeling of her pressed against you. Your absolute favorite part about her is her pretty, large breasts. You can’t wait to have her nipples in your mouth.

Utahime places light kisses along your skin, along your neck, moving so that she’s on her knees beside you and Shoko. She adjusts her height smoothly so that she sits a little taller, enough so that she can cup the back of your head and pull you to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple quickly, eagerly and she gasps, back arching and pushing her breast further into the cavern of your mouth. You hum against her, tongue rolling the pert bud. She tastes of the strawberry body wash you just rinsed off of her. You’re so distracted, moving back and forth between Utahime’s breasts that you don’t notice Shoko slipping a hand between the other woman’s thighs beneath the water. Not until Utahime cries out, hands coming up to find purchase on your shoulders.

And Shoko, the bitch that she is, places her other hand on your thigh and guides you to sit down, mouth falling open with a soft moan when your hips connect under the bath water. Shoko rolls hips, brushing her core with yours and grinning as she watches your mouth fall agape against Utahime’s breast. She does it again, smiling wide when a small whimper falls from your lips. Then she keeps doing it, keeps grinding herself against you until your thighs are trembling, and you’re nothing but a puddle clinging to Utahime’s waist.

And Utahime, she’s not any better off. Shoko’s fingers are slowly working her towards her release. She’s already been pent up, teased and turned on since you’d all gotten together at the nightclub. Now, as Shoko scissors her fingers inside her sex, presses her palm to her clit, Utahime only inches closer to the edge.

The smaller woman pushes you from her chest, her hands cupping your face so she can capture your lips with hers. And you’re so overstimulated, your mind reeling while the water sloshes with every thrust of Shoko’s hips. Shoko gently cups one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, moaning as she feels your clits brush against each other repeatedly. She sighs sweetly watching as you ride her, all while Utahime rides her hand while her lips slot against yours.

“You’re so soft,” Utahime breathes, tongue pushing past your lips to press against your own wet muscle. One hand finds the back of Utahime’s head, fingers tangling in her soft tresses and you hear Shoko moan beneath you, her hips slamming into yours. Your tongue tangles messily with Utahime’s, all saliva and groans as Shoko moves you against her. Water splashes over the sides of the tub. You can’t be bothered to care about the mess you’re all making. Not when this feels so good, not when Utahime kisses you like this, not while Shoko makes her sob into your mouth, not when you can feel the delicious tension beginning to build in your core.

“Fuck, ah – you’re both so sexy…” Shoko groans. “Love watching you kiss each other. So fucking sexy…Play with my tits while I fuck her, Hime.”

Without breaking the kiss, Utahime grasps one of Shoko’s breasts, tweaking her nipple and grinning against your mouth when Shoko gasps loudly. Her thrusts come faster, head falling back as she moans.

“Ahh…Shoko…you make such pretty sounds, baby.” Utahime coos and you whimper, eyes rolling back when your cunt slides against Shoko’s deliciously. “You do, too,” Utahime tells you, kissing you one last time before breaking away to lean down and kiss Shoko now.

All the while, Shoko never stops her movements. It’s like she’s an expert with her hands because she never loses hold of your hip, guiding you against her while she fucks her fingers into Utahime with her other hand. The room is full of the lewd sounds of you three whimpering, moaning, and whining at the shared intimacy. If there’s anyone in the rooms next to you, they may complain, but you’re not worried about that. You’re more concerned with the way Utahime’s voice rises several octaves, her cheeks pink and eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna cum?” Shoko groans. “C’mere. C’mere, baby,” Shoko stops moving, gently pulling her fingers from Utahime’s pussy. She’s so gentle with the other woman as she adjusts herself so that she’s able to lean her head back enough for Utahime to stand between you and her, legs spread as she settles her knees on the edge of the tub, positioning her core over Shoko’s face. You’ve got a nice view of Utahime’s pretty round ass, and an even better view of Shoko pressing a passionate kiss to Utahime’s cunt, tongue running through her folds, lips wrapping around Utahime’s swollen bud.

Utahime gasps, moaning breathlessly when Shoko sucks her clit hard, then teases it with the tip of her tongue. Your hands play idly with Shoko’s nipples, eyes locked on the way Shoko devours Utahime, like she’s never tasted something sweeter in her life. It’s such an arousing vision. Utahime’s thighs begin to tremble and you’re grateful for the platform of the bath, where Utahime falls forward onto her hands. She’s on all fours, riding Shoko’s face.

“Shokoooo, ooh–,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “Gonna fucking cum, babe,” she warns, and Shoko’s lips wrap around her clit again, humming loudly as she gives Utahime’s ass a harsh smack. This has Utahime’s body spasming, a high pitched cry leaving her as she reaches her peak. And as you watch Shoko drive Utahime over the edge with just her tongue, you’re unsure if it’s the water from the bath or Utahime’s release that’s running down Shoko’s face, absolutely soaking the taller woman’s chin.

“Fuck,” you moan quietly, eyes locked on the sexy sight before you. Your clit throbs beneath the surface. Maybe Shoko feels it, because she picks her movements back up after returning both hands to your hips. Your cunt slips and slides against Shoko’s again and this time, after watching Utahime fall apart on Shoko’s tongue, you’re even more aroused and eager to reach your own release. It’s not too far off, only getting closer as you watch Utahime shudder while Shoko continues making out with her pussy.

When it’s clear Utahime is spent, she climbs off of Shoko and slips back into the water, gliding through the liquid to position herself behind you where she begins kissing along your neck again. Her hands finds your breasts and she kneads them gently from behind, the motion such a contrast to the way Shoko is roughly fucking you again.

And once more, you’re all whimpering, hands roaming each other’s bodies. Grabbing soft flesh and squeezing anywhere you can that pulls sweet noises. You’re riding Shoko hard, desperately trying to cum. Each stroke of your clit against hers has you reeling, the sweet sensation pushing you closer and closer to your climax.

“I’m jealous,” Utahime pouts cutely. “Shoko gets to fuck you so good. I wanna fuck you, too.”

You can’t do anything but whimper pathetically at the aspect of your legs crossed with Utahime’s. Shoko’s moans follow. “I wanna see you fuck her, baby.” She thrusts her hips up, a loud moan rushing past your lips. “You wanna fuck Hime, too? She eats pussy so good.”

“God, yes!” You cry, eyes closed as you focus on your impending climax.

“We have plenty of time tonight,” Utahime assures you. “Maybe we can even do this another time.”

“Oh, I’d love that. Get to see this pretty pussy again,” Shoko grunts, eyes locked on the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. “God, even in the water, your pussy is so fucking wet.”

Utahime groans, pouting further. “Stopppp, Shoko. I already said I’m–”

“Gonna cum,” Shoko whines. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!”

Shoko leans forward suddenly, grasping you by the back of your neck and pulling you close so she can crash her lips into yours. The mixture of Shoko's taste and the tang of Utahime’s cum on Shoko’s tongue has your eyes rolling back, and you’re toppling over. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, the tension and build up throughout the night finally snapping the band that had been coiling in your core for the last several hours.

Your arms wrap around Shoko’s shoulders as you keen into each other's mouths, riding out your highs.

“Oh wow…” Utahime rubs small circles on your back. “That was…really hot.”

You’re catching your breath, Shoko still holding onto your hips tightly. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, a sweaty mess that somehow looks even more beautiful this way.

“We’re gonna need another bath,” she chuckles.

The night carries on with much of the same taking place. After the bath (and second bath), the three of you fall into bed, quickly finding yourselves tangled in the sheets.

++++++++++

The next morning, you’re awakened by the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the hotel table. Your head is pounding and you’re not sure if it’s the couple glasses of wine you had, or the dehydration from the many orgasms both women pulled from you last night. Probably a mixture of both.

Speaking of Shoko and Utahime, you stretch carefully in bed, remembering you all fell asleep with you sandwiched between them. But you’re left confused when you don’t feel a warm body on either side of you. You open your eyes slowly, wincing when the early morning rays of sun feel like a punch to the forehead. But even the aching in your skull isn’t enough for you to ignore that you appear to be alone in a hotel room that is not yours.

You crawl out of bed, peering around the room. “Hello?” You call out, and it feels like your voice is echoing, bouncing off the walls of this quiet room. You check the bathroom and find it’s empty. You check the closet and don’t see any evidence that clothes were inside last night. “Maybe they just had to leave,” you murmur to yourself. Because it helps soothe the nagging feeling you have sitting in the pit of your stomach at the moment.

Shrugging off the feeling, you go about your morning as you normally would. You shower, brush your teeth, dress in the clothes you’d come over in last night and plan on heading back home to report back to work.

Your phone is still buzzing when you’re about ready to head out. You finally pick it up, unlocking the device and seeing a plethora of missed calls as well as several text messages from some of your team members and associates.

Associate 1: Where are you?

Associate 1: 911!! Please pick up!

You roll your eyes, wondering what trouble they’d gotten into last night. What mess will you have to clean up this morning?

Associate 3: PLEASE ANSWER THE PHONE

Director: You need to call me.

Director: NOW.

Slight panic begins to set in, and you continue scrolling through your messages. There’s one from an unknown number, sent in the early hours of the morning. You open the message, eyes practically bulging out of your head when you see the contents.

Unknown: No hard feelings, okay? We really needed the exposure so we could get booked for more shows. Thanks for last night! - H

Another text comes through, and you think you might be fucking sick when you read it. It’s a link to a news article for…Jujutsu Journal? Stupid ass name, but it’s a gossip blog so what did you expect?

The page has screenshots of a very familiar scene. You and the models in the bath. You and Utahime on the bed with your heads thrown back in ecstasy. A blurred pic, censoring what may be the dirtiest of all – you bent over the bed on all fours, with your face buried between Utahime’s legs while Shoko (and her lilac colored strap) destroy you from behind.

Where the absolute hell would they get these?!

The headline reads:

TAKING RELATING TO THE PUBLIC TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! Head Public Relations manager for one of Japan’s top fashion magazines is in quite a pickle! This morning Jujutsu Journal received EXCLUSIVE footage of her in various intimate positions with models Shoko Ieiri and Utahime Iori! Rumor has it these two are already booked and busy. Meanwhile, it looks like this Public Relations manager may soon be booted and broke! Want to see the tape? Click here to sign up for exclusive members only access!

The pieces begin to connect, your mind flashing back to just last night. The camera is right where you left it the night before. Well, where Utahime left it. But when your fingers push the button to open the tape cartridge, you find it empty. All the footage from the night before is gone! You feel like you may faint. All these years of being so careful, at least twenty steps ahead. All the progress you’ve made…gone.

And not just that! Now there’s a sextape of you three floating around the internet! Is that why Utahime was fumbling around with the camera? Why Shoko went out of her way to distract you? So that she could buy Utahime time to turn the camera on and hit record? Is that why they showed so much interest in you in the first place? Everything is beginning to make more and more sense, while simultaneously making less and less sense. You’re so confused.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Your phone buzzes. You’re scared to look, but you know you should.

“What…the…fuck…” You still can’t believe this is happening. To you of all people.

Your eyes see the name light up on your screen. It’s your boss.

There’s no way you’ll be able to spin this one.

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propertyofwicked · 7 months ago

Text

CROSS MY HEART - LN

warnings - smut!! MDNI!! soft!lando x restless!reader, sleepy sex, unprotected (stay safe yall), little bit of cockwarming ?

little one shot for a tired reader who just needs a bit of late night lovin <3

based on -> cross my heart by artemas

masterlist

she truly didn’t mean to start anything, y/n was simply trying to get comfortable. she was restless, the clock on the bedside table displaying 3:00 in bright red lighting mocking her. lando laid behind her, his arm laying haphazardly over her waist, holding her close to him, the other stretched above her head.

lando’s heavy breathing faltered for a moment, as she tossed and turned again, his eyes squeezing tight before squinting open to look at her. she was now laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, lando’s arm still thrown over her as he moved to squeeze at her hip.

“hey,” he whispered, trying not to let his slumber leave him fully.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you,” she apologised, whispering back at him.

“why are you still up?” he asked, ignoring her apology.

“can’t sleep,” she said, turning her head to look at him.

his eyes were still half closed, struggling to open with the weight of his fatigue. his hair was messy, matted down slightly from where he rested his head, a stray curl resting on his forehead.

“come ‘ere,” he mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to her exposed shoulder before pulling at her hip, guiding her to shuffle back into his embrace. she felt his soft breaths blowing on her hair, trailing down the back of her neck, tingles shooting down her spine as she rolled further into his arms. her body moulded into his as though they were made for each other, each curve of her back fitted perfectly with his chest. her legs bent upwards, resting above his, feeling the dull warmth of his thighs spread to hers.

his hand resting on her hip, fingers drawing circles on her thigh, twisting the fabric of her shorts as he did.

“what’s wrong?” he asked again, sensing there was more to her restlessness.

“nothing,” she said with a sigh, “well, i don’t think there’s anything wrong.”

“the girl who sleeps anywhere anytime can’t fall asleep - never thought i’d see the day,” he joked, laughing lightly, his chest shaking lightly on her back as he did.

“maybe ive slept too much and now im doomed to an eternity of sleepless nights,” she replied, leading lando to laugh lightly again.

“right,” he started, “shut your eyes for me, focus on steady breathing.”

she nodded at him, hoping that lando could feel her response, as his eyes had shut again, his head rolling forwards to rest his forehead on her shoulder.

and so, y/n laid there silently for minutes, eyes closed. she’d just about given up counting sheep, trying to recall a long journey, even focusing on numbing her entire body head to toe - nothing was working. finally, she decided that shuffling backwards, further into her boyfriends embrace might help, maybe the white noise of his heavy breathing, or the warmth of his chest on her back would lull her into the deep sleep she needed.

her hips rolled back first, pushing into lando’s crotch as she did, her back moving to arch into his chest. but before she could get comfortable, the grip on her waist tightened, a small grunt escaping lando’s mouth as he held her impossible close to him.

“if you wanted me that bad, you should’ve just said,” he mumbled in her ear again, his hips jutting forwards slightly.

“i didn’t mean to,” she whined in defence, before considering the situation, “but since you mentioned it, and since i can feel a little problem forming…”

“little?” he gasped jokingly, “you’ve never complained about the size of it before.”

“ill think you’ll find i have,” she replied, her hips absentmindedly grinding down on his growing bulge as she spoke, “do you not remember the jaw pain i had after i suc-”

she was interrupted by his hand landing firmly over her mouth.

“don’t finish that sentence if you don’t want this to escalate,” he warned.

“and what if i want it to?” she teased, “might help to tire me out?”

“well in that case, i guess im obliged to help,” he sighed, jokingly conceding as his fingers tugged at the waistband of her shorts. her hand reached down to grab his, halting his movements slightly, she could feel his face contort in confusion from where it still rested on her skin.

“just pull them to the side,” she told him, “im too tired to take my clothes off.”

he laughed at her honesty, never one to complain about being lazy with his girl, especially when he himself was too exhausted to put his full effort into sex right now.

“yeah?” he asked her, needing reassurance before she nodded, mumbling a quick “please”.

lando’s hands reached around to y/n’s front, pulling her shorts to the side, running his rough fingers through her folds. his head near shot up in shock, pushing himself up slightly to look down at the woman below him, fingers still working through her heat, circling her clit.

“how are you already that wet?” he asked her, chuckling lightly as the moon’s soft glow illuminated the flush rising her cheeks, “all i did was press my cock into your ass and you’re dripping?”

“ok?” she replied, feigning offence, “all i did was push my hips into your cock and you got hard? you know, lan, most men wouldn’t complain when their girlfriends find them attractive,” she joked, exposing his hypocrisy with a giggle.

“this wet, though? all for me?” he asked again, though his voice no longer held it’s playful tone, it became almost possessive, proud of his effect on her.

“all for you,” she choked out, stuttering as his fingers circled her entrance, his thumb moving to continue his assault on her clit. he pushed into her, fingers curling in as he did.

“please lan,” she begged him, panting as he did. any other time, she’d be embarrassed how quickly she was falling apart for him, but right now she couldn’t think about anything but being full with him.

“please, what, angel?” he asked, smirking at her submission, “words, baby.”

“need you now,” she whined, rolling her hips to deepen his fingers, intensifying the pressure of his thumb on her heat.

“patience, angel. gettin’ you ready for me,” he grunted, hips still jutting sporadically into her every time she moaned out for him.

“i’m ready,” she argued, “i can take it.”

“you sure?” he teased, though his hand slipped away from her, pushing her shorts to the side again and tugging his boxers down to free himself. lando tugged at his length a few times, spreading precum down the shaft before lining himself up with her entrance. he felt her lean forwards slightly, moving her leg to raise it over his, opening herself up to him.

he pushed in slowly, feeling her walls stretch around his cock as she moaned out at the intrusion, soon feeling the cotton of her shorts brushing against the skin at the base of his pelvis. her hand reached back, gripping at his arm to stop his movements.

“need a moment,” she whined.

“who’s little now?” he joked, careful to keep himself still inside her, “’i’m ready, i can take it,’“ he mocked.

“shut up or i’m leaving,” she warned, grinding down on him as she grew used to the feeling of being full.

“sure you will,” he gloated, hand moving back down to her clit, pinching at it lightly as his hips began to thrust into her at a gentle pace. she couldn’t argue back if she tried, his warmth engulfing her as he held her close, strings of curses tumbling from her mouth with every thrust.

“love having you so close to me,” he grunted, his teeth nipping at the skin on her shoulder lightly, “so full of me. feel so good, wrapped around my cock like this.”

his pace remained gentle - his thrusts deep inside her, the tip of his cock hitting the spot that had her purring for him. the feeling of lando’s hands on her, gripping at her thigh, holding her open for him to slide in and out of her. his chest pressed up against her back, a light sweat coating his skin.

it was no surprise she reached her climax so quickly, overwhelmed at the feeling of him thrusting deep inside her, his body surrounding her every senses, soft grunts that travelled through her ears and straight to her heat - he was like a drug she could never quit. she came hard and fast, body shaking around his cock as her body grew limp. lando followed soon after, his strong grip holding her body still for him to use however he pleased.

his hips moved to pull back, to slip out of her slowly but her exhausted whines stopped his movements.

“leave it in,” she mumbled, face pressed into the pillow.

“what?” he asked, trying to disguise the mixture of shock and excitement he felt at the prospect of being so close to her.

“you heard me, lan. leave it in. want to feel full,” she replied, a small smile rising on lando’s face at her tired desperation, as she shuffled back into his warm embrace once again. his arms tightened around her again, her laboured breathing lulling them both into a deep sleep.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #oscar piastri #LN4 #OP81

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gabriellessworldd · 4 months ago

Text

Never get yo bitch back!

plug!connie x black fem reader 😛😛

wc- 1.7k!

☆ warnings ☆: mdni! mentions of weed nd alcohol, smut 18+, cheating (established relationship w eren), public-ish sex (bathroom unlocked door), pnv, oral (f receive), Connie and reader have wanted each other for a min, first time writing ever don't drag me y'all pls!! 😓 I kinda want to make this have multiple parts but idk yet. I'm very open to criticism nd I hope y'all enjoy!

"Y/nnnnn, cmon you can come outside for one night!" Your best friend Sasha whined through the screen. As much as you protested, deep down you really did want to go out. Especially because Eren wasn't at home, you really wanted to talk to him since y'all haven't been doing so well recently. Petty arguments, sleepless nights, ig posts, and to top it all off he hasn't been to your house in weeks, not giving y'all anytime to have a conversation.

You check the time and see it's 6:00pm that means you got at least 2-3 hours before you would have to leave. "Girl you right, send me the lo. What you wearin?" Sasha set her phone up to show you the outfit she picked out, "Girl that's cute asf!! Ima match you." Sasha helped you pick out an outfit (1 or 2) that resembled hers. "Okay Sash ima finish my hair nd makeup, lmk when yall otw there." "Bye N/n, i gotchu." Sasha hung up and you continued finishing your hair and makeup.

Once you were in your car you looked at the location, realizing that it was at Jean's house, meaning Connie would be there. There was something so attractive about Connie that you didn't know how to explain, he was just, mesmerizing. You knew you would never be able to approach him tho, him nd Eren had been friends forever, and that was a boundary you wouldn't cross. Nothing being crossfaded couldn't fix..

You pull in front of Jean's house and it's packed, you can hear the music from the street. You text Sasha that you pulled up and fix yourself in the car mirror. "We're waiting for you at the front N/n." You read Sasha's text and get out of your car. When you open the door Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and some other girls greet you. You scan the crowd feeling a familiar stare, you turn to your right and see a crossfaded Connie Springer and his homeboys sitting on some sofas in the corner. Connie feels you stare back and smirks. 'This finna be interesting.' You think to yourself.

You make your way to the kitchen to take a couple shots, Sasha gets a blunt from Ony, and y'all head upstairs to light up. When the sesh is over you feel amazing, the music is blasting, you're having a great night, and you're a 10, what could be better? You and the girls head downstairs to go dance and enjoy your night. You and Sasha throw ass like there's no tomorrow and Mikasa is right there to catch it. You laugh and stand up straight when you feel the stare of those familiar hazel eyes. "Ima go grab another drink" you tell Sasha and she drukenly nods.

You walk up to the counter where all of the drinks are, "hey connie" you look at him, and smile. He leans in closer to you "wassup mami, you look good. shit, you smell good too." he smiles at you with all of his pearly white teeth and you notice his silver grillz.(#1, #2, #3) God he's so fine. The way his red eyes are hanging low, the smell of his cologne, and his pretty ass accent, triple homicide.

"Where yo man at tho? Thought he was gon come tonight." Connie's confused as to why Eren isn't at this party trailing you like a lost puppy, unless, y'all wasn't on speaking terms right now. He grinned at the thought "Oh um Ion really-" You stuttered out wondering why he would ruin a good conversation. "Nah you ain gotta answer mami, follow me." He held his hand out with a 'hm' and you quickly took it, needing to feel his touch. He lead you upstairs to the first bathroom he saw, he opened the door, "Tu vas primero hermosa" you go first beautiful. You smiled at the sentence and walked in front of him. His eyes naturally trailed down to the best view there was 'Damn.' was all he thought as he watched you walk and felt himself get harder in his sweats.

"So wassup?" You questioned him, almost like a challenge. You leaned your back against the counter and looked into his eyes. "To be honest ion wanna play no games ma, you know what I want." He leaned towards you, muscular and veiny arms on both sides of you, caging you in.

You could feel the tension grow as both of you realized just how badly you needed the other. "Can I?" Connie asks to kiss you 'and he's respectful omg add that to the list' you think, "Yes, you can." As soon as those three words came out of your mouth, Connie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his other hand quickly found your ass and squeezed, while your hands slid their way into his scruffy buzzcut. The kiss was passionate but it also had a hint of hunger, longing almost, like both of you waited your whole lives for this. Both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and both of you wanted, no, craved more from each other. Connie's large hand found it's way to your throat and he squeezed softly earning a light moan from you, Connie pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"Ay dios mio mami" oh my god Connie whispered. Connie littered bites and hickeys down your neck and exposed cleavage, not caring who would see. He tapped on your thigh, a signal for you to stand so he could remove your pants. He then picked you up and set you back down on the counter, he kissed the insides of your thighs and left a trail of bites. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded your head, he pulled your panties to the side. Connie was in a trance, the way your folds were so puffy, the way they were covered in wetness, connie almost came in his pants at the sight. "Fuck." was all he said before he began kissing and sucking on your lips. He spread them open with his middle and index finger, and could've sworn he saw heaven.

He plunged his fingers inside your wet hole, sucking on your clit while he pumped his fingers in you nice and slow. "Fuck con" you let out a soft moan, it was like music to his ears. He worked his fingers a little faster and curled them up grazing over your spot. "o-oh fuck connie mmhm, right there" He came up, bottom half of his face covered in your sweet juices "You taste so sweet, princesa" and with that he went back down and devoured you like you were his last meal. "a-ah mm con. That feels soo good" you whispered, feather light moans. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon mami let me hear you." he felt you squeeze his tongue and pull his hair, that was enough to let him know. He pushed his fingers back in and started pumping at an insane speed.

"Go ahead ma, let me taste all of you" Your thighs tightened around his head as you felt your high coming. "ah connie 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out louder than before, he curled his fingers again, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed. "Joder, eres tan deliciosa." damn, you're so delicious.

Connie stood up and your hands immediately found the band of his sweats and boxers, in one tug you pulled them both down. "Eager much huh mami? Well I expect you to take it all then." Your eyes widened at the statement but your thoughts were cut short when you heard him speak again. "Turn around for me mami, and don't take your eyes off the mirror." The dominance in his voice made you even wetter. You turned around towards the mirror and he slid off your panties.

He smeared his tip on your folds, collecting your wetness. Without warning he pushed his full length in, starting off with slow strokes. "Fuck mami, you're squeezing me so tight" You arched your back a little more and relaxed. He starts moving quicker and palms the fat of your ass.

Connie props one of your legs on the counter and smacks your ass. "f-fuck connie oh!" hearing you get louder, not caring if anyone could hear you, only riled him up more. He snaked his hand around your throat pulling your head up more so you could see what a mess he made of you. Your lip liner gone, mascara smeared on your damp bottom eyelashes, and a fucked out expression. Connie thought you looked perfect.

"Y-yes mami, take all t-this dick" you hear him stutter his calm demeanor fading away as he fucks into you at an unruly pace. "Ah! Con so good. i-it's so big" He smacks your ass again and continues fucking you.

He pulls out and you pout feeling empty "Calmate princesa." calm down princess He chuckles and flips you on your back then he pulls your hips closer to him. He pushes back into you, not wasting any time. Connie pushes your legs back a little more "Keep 'em right there ma." You hold the back of your knees with your hands, feeling connie's tip hit all the right places, Connie places a heavy hand on your lower stomach and he presses down. "a-ah con please! it feels soo good." You and Connie both feel yourselves about to cum.

"Con 'm about to cum! ah please Connie!" You can feel your thighs starting to shake, "g-go ahead mami, fuck you're so perfect. m-make a mess all over me." Connie rubs on your sensitive bud and keeps fucking you deep. You can feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and your vision turns white. "Ah! Connie fuck 'm cumming!" You yell, "f-fuck me too ma." You notice his voice falter and crack at the end, he sounds so angelic. He pulls out and hot, white, ropes coat your tummy.

Connie begins wiping off your stomach and he leans in to kiss you, but he sees something in the corner of his eye, almost like a, figure. "Shit" Connie says blankly, putting his pants back on. You scramble to put your clothes back on and turn to see Eren standing there looking pissed.

"what.. what the fuck is wrong with y'all?"

Whew chileeeee. y'all did I at least nibble or what 👀 but lmk if I should make this multiple parts, also give me title ideas!! lmk if y'all want to be tagged in the next parts! love u all nd I hope y'all had as much fun reading as I had writing this! (watch nb read ts #embarrasing 😰)

- with lots of love, gabrielle <3

#connie springer #connie x black reader #plug!connie #aot x reader #aot #black reader #fanfic #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #black tumblr #x black reader #x black y/n #aot smut #connie smut #aot connie #new author #new to writing

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bitchlessdino · 1 month ago

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boo-ty call 👻 (m)

Pairing: perverted ghost!jeonghan x cute neighbor!seungkwan x afab!reader Genre: supernatural comedy, smut Word count: 11.1k tags: a lot of puns, human body possession (con and dubcon), threesome by definition if you count a ghost, mention of food, cunnilingus, some degrading (slut), light spanking, unprotected sex Summary: As far as unwanted roommates go, your ghostly companion was one you never anticipated. But when this specter began to assert himself and meddle in your dating life—or lack thereof—you started to reconsider your stance; maybe having a roommate wasn’t so bad after all. Especially if he's helping you get laid. author note: it's sluttober! when did i last write anything and have it posted. that's crazy sorry about that yall, but i'm really trying my best to be more active, but ngl its hard. life really gets in the way and we have to remind ourselves to take a back sometimes, even from our hobbies. Thank you to @multi-kpop-fanfics and @seokgyuu for beta reading and helping me perfect this masterpiece and thank you to you guys for your patience. Enjoy! Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone

You should’ve known better than to find an apartment listing in the same place where people get lied to about the types of dogs they’re buying. To this day, your aunt is convinced her Chorkie is supposed to be pure Maltese.

Meanwhile, you’re about 99.999% sure your apartment is haunted, and whatever ghost this was, they really liked stealing your underwear. It should’ve scared you. It should’ve driven you away and rushed you out to find a newer, less haunted place to live. But it was cheap, fully furnished, and came with a walkable laundromat and a family-owned market with homegrown tomatoes. Nothing could beat that.

You could tolerate it. It was better than mooching off your parents, who ask every five minutes when you’ll get a 'real' job. Living away from your parents was necessary for your sanity and a dead pervert is much preferable to a live one.

“Can you fucking stop leaving the bathroom light on? I get that haunting is your job and all, but you’re not the one paying the electricity bill.”

If anyone could see you talking to thin air right now, they would’ve had you committed.

“And while we’re at it, could you stop stealing the lacy underwear? They’re gifts, and I don’t wear them, but I might someday, so leave me the option!”

The hallway light flickered before it finally stopped and swift air breezed past you in response, but no returning underwear. You let out a frustrated sigh and shove the rest of your dirty clothes into the hamper before proceeding with laundry day.

You’ve never seen any part of them, yet you’re always aware of their presence. It was creepy at first, but that quickly turned into annoyance when you realized how limited their grasp on the living world truly was—just a bit of theft and light tinkering. It was manageable, but you still felt uneasy knowing you couldn’t change without feeling watched.

“I’ll be back. Don’t piss me off more when I do. It is not my week.”

Not a day had passed since you two became acquainted that he didn’t find some way to bother you, but there were definite perks to living in hell’s best apartment lease. As your feet scraped across the tiled floor, the afternoon sun briefly flushed your skin, and a familiar flutter stirred in your chest as the thought of something popped into your head. Instead of the usual contempt, longing filled your chest as you made your way to the machine.

“What do we have today, m’dear?”

Your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, and you pretended to nonchalantly turn around, as if you hadn’t just spent several minutes hoping for his appearance. “Oh, you know, the usual—interview clothes, some sweatpants, and a few coffee-stained rags.”

Seungkwan’s lips curled into a soft chuckle, his laugh warm as he tossed his own laundry into the machine beside yours. “Sounds spicy. Mrs. Whirlpool is in for a gourmet meal today.”

He said the weirdest, most ridiculous things, but the real mystery was how you still ended up wanting to kiss him anyway. There was something about his easy smile, the effortless way he tossed his dress shirt into the machine like it was some kind of party trick.

He had a knack for brightening the atmosphere as if he possessed a magnetic otherworldly charm. Whenever you arrived, you couldn't help but wish he would be there, transforming the ordinary task of laundry into an intimate little affair—just the two of you amidst a heap of dirty clothes.

You observed him from the side, noting that his stack of clothes was noticeably smaller than usual. This made you question why he would wash such a small load. “Today isn't your regular laundry day. It’s usually Fridays and Mondays, isn't it? Today’s Thursday.”

The second the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. Great. Way to sound like a total stalker. Creep much?

Seungkwan cocked a smile. “I’m flattered you’ve memorized my laundry schedule.”

You laughed awkwardly, scrambling for cover. “I pass by here and just happen to have a really great memory.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this might sound kind of gross and embarrassing, but I found these abandoned at the back of my closet. They’ve been there forever, and I had some extra change, so I figured, why not? You know, especially since I’ll be gone at the end of October.”

“You’ll be gone for Halloween?” Well, don’t sound too disappointed.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a soft chuckle, glancing your way. “Family traditions. Can’t miss them. You know, the usual—handing out candy, our neighborhood haunted house contest, all that.”

“That sounds like so much fun. Way better than my Halloween growing up.”

“Aw, thanks, but trust me, it’s way more chaotic than it sounds. Kids screaming, neighbors going overboard with decorations—it’s a lot." He shrugged as he folded his laundry, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. “What about you? Got any plans?”

“Um… I’m not sure yet. Still figuring it out, I guess,” you answered earnestly, suddenly feeling like a loser with no plans–which you were by definition.

Seungkwan hesitated, his hands stilling mid-fold, the fabric dangling loosely between his fingers. You could see something flickering in his eyes—a jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind like a muddled cloud, visible in the furrow of his brow. “Oh. Well, um…” His voice trailed off, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if he were battling whether or not to say what was really on his mind.

"What?" Your curiosity spiked, your heart quickening as you waited for him to continue. For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, stretching the already lingering silence.

He quickly shook his head, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile before turning back to his laundry, his hands moving again, but less sure than before. “Nothing. Just—never mind.”

“Oh, okay.” The disappointment weighed on you, heavier than you wanted to admit. You glanced at the washing machines, trying to focus on the steady hum of the cycles, but your eyes kept drifting back to the numbers, slowly counting the seconds until the minutes ticked over, all while the silence between you grew louder.

You finished your load long before Seungkwan could wrap up his, the awkward tension of unfinished business hanging in the air like a thick fog. You glanced at him, hesitating for a moment before mustering a tight smile, trying to shake off the discomfort. “Well, that’s it for me. See you around, Seungkwan.”

He looked up from his laundry, the corners of his lips tugging down slightly. "See you, neighbor," he said, his tone laced with a hint of regret. The moment lingered in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, making it even harder to walk away.

With one last glance at his face, you stepped back, the soft chime of the door ringing behind you as you passed their glass doors.

As you walked back toward your apartment, you couldn’t help but drop in confidence, thinking to yourself that maybe you didn’t deserve good things like cute laundromat boy. The hallway felt more confining than usual, the walls seeming to close in, echoing the insecure thoughts making rounds in your head.

You leaned against the cheaply painted walls of your cramped apartment, sliding down to sit on the floor with your head in your hands. It was just a childish crush—fleeting and meaningless—yet the thought of him going away scared you more than any real-life danger you'd ever faced. He was the only upside to moving to this part of town, the one thing that made the mundane feel even remotely worthwhile.

As you sat on the vinyl floor, you could still picture the sparkle in his eyes when he first opened those double doors, the warmth of his voice as he introduced himself. What had once been just laundry had turned into something to look forward to, a small break from the routine and a chance to brighten up your day in this sparse town.

Maybe, if you were lucky, it could turn into a little small-town romance. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he even saw you beyond the casual pleasantries. Did he just see you as another neighbor, or maybe just a friendly face?

The familiar flickering light in the kitchen pulled you back to the reality and up from the ground of your haunted apartment. With a frustrated sigh, you turned your attention to your unwanted roommate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m home,” you muttered, trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy.

As you walked toward the living room, the flickering lightbulbs in the lamps followed your path, their erratic dance a reminder of the presence that lingered in your space. Maybe getting rid of them wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It could be a way to finally cut ties with the ghost that seemed determined to remind you of your solitude. You chuckled softly at the thought. Perhaps an exorcism could clear out both the ghost and all the pointless overthinking.

But that was a problem for another day. Rotting in bed sounded far more appealing right now. You shuffled into your room, the soft glow from the streetlamp spilling in through the window, casting faint shadows on the walls as the evening deepened. The coolness of the night crept in slowly, the faint hum of the city blending into the background.

As you sank into the familiar embrace of your blankets, the exhaustion in your limbs finally settled, but your mind lingered for a moment longer. You glanced outside, the dim light catching in the leaves of the trees below, and for a fleeting second were at peace. No ghosts, no old washers or dryers, no obsessive crush. Just sleep.

You sighed, pulling the covers tighter around you, letting the hum of old furnishing–and probably the old pervert ghost–as you drifted off into sleep.

Your rest was cut short by a full bladder, ready to burst. With heavy eyelids, you stumbled toward the bathroom, barely aware of your surroundings. As you relieved yourself, everything felt normal—the creaking of the bathroom door, the sporadic running of the faucet, and the occasional flickering of the lights above, indicating his restless presence.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes with your fists. “This wasn’t an invitation, Casper,” you muttered, irritation creeping into your voice.

As if to taunt you, the faucet suddenly turned on full blast, running wildly before shutting off completely, leaving you with nothing but the simmering annoyance bubbling inside of you. With a frustrated huff, you quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. The lone reflection staring back at you looked as tired as you felt.

With dark circles under your eyes and a complexion that could only be described as dull, it was starting to feel like you were one bad hair day away from getting "gave up" tattooed across your forehead. And suddenly you were wondering whether you looked more dead than the ghost.

Instead of wallowing more self-pity, you washed your hands under the running faucet. If the ghost wanted to bother you, it certainly wasn’t going to be about your hygiene. You kept that on lock.

You glanced back at the mirror and no longer were you alone. Instead, where your reflection should have been was the unsettling visage of your ghost, staring back at you with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. His pale features were striking, almost ethereal, with an undeniable charm that twisted your gut. Those mischievous eyes sparkled with a playful malevolence.

Your ghost was attractive–strikingly so–and for some reason that made you dislike him even more.

You shot your shared reflection an unamused smile. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

His reflection chuckled, leaning over his sink to give you an unfiltered view of every extraordinary detail etched into his face like a sculpture. “What? I thought I could finally introduce myself.”

“After months of me already living here? I feel the moment has passed,” you shot back, crossing your arms in defiance.

“Well, I had to pass my own judgment, didn't I? Do you know how many coke-huffing, cheese puff-grubbing, athlete-foot-walking slobs I’ve encountered in my place of residence?” He leaned closer, his expression mockingly serious, the flickering light casting playful shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

“May I remind you that those people were renters? If they paid to be there, who were you to deny them that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Like I didn’t pay when I was alive? Plus, Muriel definitely wasn’t paying, nor was Monty. They were beyond sketchy.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly relishing the chance to air his grievances from beyond the grave. “Now that I think about it, there was definitely some laundry going on around here—and I’m not just talking about your underwear strewn all over the place.”

“Thanks for the reminder. Would you please leave the undergarments alone?” you replied, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into your voice as if you didn’t sound crazy enough talking into a mirror.

He shrugged nonchalantly, the flickering light casting shadows across his smirking face. “I will once you learn to toss them in the hamper like a normal humie. Upside to being dead: no laundry.”

“I don’t have to take this from someone who can’t even wear underwear anymore.”

“So you assumed I died without any on? How morbidly perverted of you.” His playful smile widened.

You scoffed, incredulous at the absurdity of the conversation you were having—with a ghost of all people.

“You know I’m right…I could sense your heart racing the moment you laid eyes on me,” he teased, a playful grin dancing across his lips as his jaw hung slightly slack in intrigue. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the way your breath caught in your throat, as if he were drinking in every detail, alive in the way his eyes glowed with mischief despite their soulless depths.

His ghostly figure was lean and toned, the contours of his form faintly visible like a lingering shadow, brimming with an energy that felt both alluring and infuriating. The flickering light cast an ethereal glow around him, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaws and the way his seemingly wet hair fell carelessly over his forehead. He leaned closer, the air thickening with a mix of annoyance and something dangerously enticing as if he relished the effect he had on you.

“Are you…flirting with me?” You couldn’t believe you had to ask, but the glint in his eye was undeniable.

“It’s not illegal. Not in the afterlife, anyway. Anything goes here.” He leaned back against the sink, bloodless veins pulsing against his forearms, enjoying the encounter more than he should.

“I…need sleep.”

You peeled yourself away from the mirror, shaking your head in disbelief, and headed to bed without looking back. You slipped through the sheets, found comfort in their familiarity, and sighed, thinking you escaped.

“You know—”

“Jesus!” you burst out, your heart racing as you instinctively clutched your chest. Opening your eyes, you found the ghost looming above you, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. “What now?”

“Walking to a different room isn’t exactly a proper goodnight,” he said, crossing his arms over his spectral chest as if he were the arbiter of etiquette in the afterlife. His expression was mock-serious, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he found the whole situation amusing.

“As if ghosts even sleep?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

“No, but it’s polite,” he replied, feigning indignation, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a barely contained grin.

“Is this going to keep happening? You annoy me until I scrape together enough money to move out, or, if I’m not fortunate, end up penniless and homeless,” you lamented, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you threw your hands up in frustration.

“You tell me.”

With a sigh, you shut your eyes again and threw the blanket over your head, seeking refuge. “At least save it for the morning.”

And the ghost did just that—he saved all of it for the morning, better yet the afternoon. Since that’s when you woke up anyways.

“Do people always eat breakfast past two p.m., or is that a recent trend from the last two decades?” his voice called, cutting through the haze of your half-sleep as you started to eat

“How old are you even?” you mumbled, cereal gnashing between your teeth.

“Old enough to know that you need more than cereal to sustain a healthy human body.”

“Riveting,” you muttered sarcastically, sipping the milk from the bowl. “Next, you’ll tell me that ‘ghosting’ is a real thing in your realm, too.”

“Actually, it is,” he retorts, his presence somehow stronger than it was in front of a mirror, “Happen to be doing it right now. Having some fun.”

“Is that your idea of fun? Stalking me from beyond the grave?”

“Call it what you want, but I’m just trying to keep you company,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. “Besides, who else is going to breathe some life into your dull existence other than someone who’s already checked out of theirs?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a playful huff. “Great. Just what I need—my own ghostly life coach. What’s next? A seminar on the benefits of double-scrubbing the bathtub?

It was meaningless stuff, really. The kind of chatter that filled the air like background noise, a gentle distraction from the world outside your walls. Yet, for someone who was supposed to be dead, he had an uncanny knack for conversation, it only made you assume the type of person he was alive. He could turn the mundane into clear images, painting vivid pictures with his stories about the afterlife—or, more accurately, his gripes about it. Not that you asked for it, but, it was like being told a grand story. Stories you could not for the life of you stop listening to for some reason.

“Okay, ghostie—”

“Jeonghan,” he corrected. “Say it with me slowly. Jeong. Han.”

“Mmh, ghostie! I’ll be back after the laundry is done.”

“No way you’re saving money with how often you—”

“Bye bye, poltergeist!” You cut him off with a wave, stepping out with a load full of laundry.

You had noticed how quickly the days were slipping by, how time seemed to blur when you shared your space with someone—or rather, something—that could actually respond to you in real-time. It was a strange kind of companionship, one that made you forget just how much solitude had weighed on you before.

The passing days also reminded you just how much you needed a breather, to clear your head from this bizarre living arrangement. And somehow, your laundry had piled up, more than it ever should have for someone unemployed who barely left the house. It was odd. Almost like time itself was moving faster, dragging the mess along with it.

“Hey, right on schedule—Thursdays and every other Monday and today’s Monday..”

You almost forgot about Seungkwan amidst all the supernatural nonsense swirling around you, but seeing him brought back memories of your last encounter, and you quickly put on a smile. “Hey there! Look at you, recognizing my laundry schedule too.”

“Thought I’d return the favor since you were kind enough to remember mine. Hope that’s okay,” he replied, his tone light.

You piled your laundry into the machine, carefully measuring out some freshly opened detergent. “It is.”

“Okay… I just want to apologize for being weird the last time we talked,” he said, shifting slightly as he leaned against the machine, his expression turning a bit more serious.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you assured him.

“I just… I don’t know.” He glanced down at the floor, his brows furrowing slightly. “My mind went blank, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled reassuringly. “I get that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

He looked up, a playful grin spreading across his face. “So you think I’m pretty?”

Fuck. “It’s… just an expression.”

He leaned against his machine, his gaze fixed on you. “Didn’t deny it, though.”

You chuckled, feigning exasperation and mirroring his posture against your own machine. “You’re a lot more cocky than I realized, Mr. Seungkwan.”

“Do you like that?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were left speechless. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as your thoughts bounced from one corner of your mind to the other until finally, they found themselves running down between your legs in a new form of discomfort. “Umm…”

You turned away for a moment, breathing to steady yourself, gently patting away your very alive heart.

“I made it weird again, didn’t I?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of regret.

You spun back around, shaking your head. “No. No! It just took me by surprise.”

“Sorry about that.” Not sounding all that sorry.

“That’s…more than I’m used to,” you admitted, a slight heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“Thank you?” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound brightening the air between you and making the moment feel lighter and more vibrant. Just then, the machine beeped, a sharp sound signaling that your clothes were done, pulling you away from the heated exchange.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, but this time it felt different—like the crackling of kindling in the perfect moment when fireflies come out, illuminating the night as brightly as the stars in the sky. You exchanged a quiet glance, catching a glint reminiscent of those stars in his gaze, and for a second, it felt like the universe was telling you, ‘Hey, maybe there's something here.’

When you finally turned to leave, your smile was the biggest you’d ever had. And when he matched yours, it was like you had just won a bizarre lottery. You probably looked a bit unhinged, standing there grinning at nothing while swaying in the damp weather, but you didn’t care. The butterflies in your stomach danced happily, and you found yourself wishing you could hold on to this moment just a little longer, savoring the warmth it brought.

“You look happy.”

Not even the Ghostbusters’ final boss could ruin that for you.

“Cram it, Beetlejuice Lite,” you shot back, because although you’re in a good mood, you relished finding new names to call Jeonghan besides his own.

You hummed to yourself as you folded and neatly put away your clothes, feeling his cool, lingering presence behind you. He watched, like always—probably thinking up who put sugar in your cereal this morning for you to be in such an uppity mood.

“Well, I’ll be. You’re actually putting your clothes away like a functional human being?” His voice oozed mock surprise, but today, it just rolled right off you.

“Yep! Just felt like it,” you replied cheerfully, sliding the last of the shirts into your drawer with a satisfied nod.

“Strange. I thought laundry was your natural habitat now, seeing how often you’re in there… but I guess that’s thanks to a certain ‘living,’”

You snapped your drawer shut, the sound echoing through the room as you whipped around to glare at him, immediately pulling you away from the happiness you felt not that long ago. “You—”

“Seungkwan, wasn’t it? Cute kid. Didn’t quite peg him as your type, though.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed, heart doing an involuntary somersault. Of course, he’d noticed. He seemed to notice everything, like some twisted version of a nosy neighbor, only this one didn’t have the decency to keep his opinions to himself. You wanted to fire back, but your brain was moving a step too slow, still caught up on the casual way he dropped Seungkwan's name. How long had he been watching you both at the laundromat?

“You’re stalking me outside of the apartment now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My spirit may be bound to this place,” he replied with an air of nonchalance, “but my soul can roam as it pleases.”

“Spirit? Soul? Aren’t they the same thing?”

He tilted his head, giving you a patronizing smile. “Not quite. My soul travels freely, observing everything within a reasonable distance—it’s not tethered to the apartment like my spirit is. My spirit stays here, out of my control.”

“So, you spied on me just because you could?”

"Call it research. Gathering intel." He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you were doing anything interesting."

"Oh, I'm so glad I could provide you with such riveting entertainment.”

You shook your head, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind you, only to have Jeonghan pass through it. "You know, for a ghost, you're surprisingly annoying."

"For a flesh-and-blood mortal, you're remarkably unfazed," he observes, his ethereal voice echoing slightly. "Most wouldn't last a day with my...unique brand of housekeeping."

You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, well, I'm not most people."

“So,” he began, “about this Seungkwan guy…”

You stiffened, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What about him?”

“Just curious,” he replied casually, though there was a glint in his eyes. “He seems... nice.”

“He is,” you mumbled, suddenly finding your laundry far more interesting than the conversation again.

“And you like him?”

Your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words almost sticking in your throat. “Maybe.”

“Does he like you?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “…I don’t know yet.”

There was a beat of silence before he offered, “Want some help with that?”

“No. What? How would you even do that?” You narrowed your eyes, already regretting entertaining this conversation.

He started circling you, wearing a grin that screamed trouble, like a cat ready to pounce. “The only time my soul and spirit are truly joined,” he began in a low, conspiratorial tone, “is when I possess a body and take control of their flesh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Where is this going, Bloody Maury? Skip to the part that makes sense.”

He stopped directly in front of you, arms crossed. “Well, if you’re interested in ‘skipping to the good parts,’ I could possess your body. Help you say what’ll win over Seungkwan in no time.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why in the hell would I be dumb enough to let you do that?”

He snickered, leaning in with a smug look. “Because you’re desperate and haven’t slept with anyone the entire time we’ve lived together.”

“…You talk too much.”

“Think about it,” he continued, unbothered by your glare. “You’ve already got a foot in the door with him. You just need a little boost. I can help.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “This sounds like some high-level scheme to take over my body. Then I’ll end up stuck sharing it with a ghost, screaming into the depths of my soul for eternity. Thanks, but no thanks.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too much supernatural TV. And besides, if I wanted to possess your body for good, I would’ve done it a long time ago. I do have some principles, you know. Consent and all.”

You shook your head, unimpressed. “Nope. I still can’t trust you, ghostie.”

Jeonghan, ever the persistent undead, didn’t know the meaning of giving up—and by now, you should’ve expected as much. And maybe, just maybe, his constant, incessant persuading was starting to wear you down. Sharing the same space day in and day out gave him the upper hand. He knew your quirks, your weak spots—the best and worst parts of you.

These past few days, you weren’t sure if you were going insane by agreeing with a ghost, or if he was actually starting to make some sense.

As you stared off at him, basking in the cool autumn air slipping through the balcony, you started to wonder if his intentions were not as venomous or malicious as you initially thought. There was a strange, quiet sadness in his eyes as if he longed for something he couldn’t put into words. Something that you couldn’t understand even if you tried.

“Am I really so pathetic that the ‘phantom reject’ is willing to help me with my love life?”

Jeonghan glanced at you with mild interest, noticing the way your curiosity had piqued. You sat comfortably on the couch, your elbow propped on the armrest, cheek nestled in your palm, as you observed him. He quietly approached, given that his feet were intangible and didn’t reach the ground, the silence was deafening and he lowered his head to level with you, staring back at you with so much intent it burned to feel his gaze.

He titled his head, brimming with pride. “Well, let’s just say I’ve never been rejected in my life. So.”

“You really think this’ll work for me?”you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.

“Of course,” he replied, with a grin. “You’ve got me.”

You were really considering it��letting a ghost help with your love life. Was this truly insane? Maybe. But it felt like it was worth a shot.

God, this was pathetic. And for once, you had something to be genuinely afraid of. And funny enough, it wasn’t possession. Until, well… maybe it was.

Life had never quite prepared you for this. Standing in your bedroom, surrounded by the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in the corner, you realized you’d put this off long enough—both the laundry and the body possession. You let out a shaky breath, glancing nervously from the mess to Jeonghan.

His presence loomed, just as insistent as the neglected chores, and you had to steady yourself, mentally sorting through how you’d ended up in this bizarre situation. Laundry? Fine. Ghost possession? Not something you thought was possible. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to assess the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay, Grim Peeper, let’s do this.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly as you tried, and failed, to shake off the nerves. His movements were deliberate as he approached, eyes narrowing in focus. He watched how the tension gripped your shoulders, the way your breath quickened despite your best efforts to stay calm. His presence felt heavier, and as he took his position in front of you, the air around him seemed to still.

You could feel the weight of what was about to happen, the looming absurdity of it all. Jeonghan, who usually exuded a kind of careless charm, now looked oddly concentrated, as if he were preparing for something he rarely had the chance to do. His expression, though still smug, carried a certain gravity. But in all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what to expect.

“I’m about to make contact,” Jeonghan said, his tone unusually serious. “It’s going to feel a bit disorienting at first—like a cold shiver running down your spine. But after a few seconds, your mind will adjust, and it’ll feel like nothing ever happened. My voice will echo in your head, almost like it’s your own thoughts. I’ll let you know when it’s me taking control.”

His hands hovered over your shoulders, a ghostly chill brushing against your skin. For a split second, there was something oddly reassuring in his dead, sullen eyes. "You'll be okay. I promise, nothing will go wrong."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down. "Alright, I trust you." Then you glanced at him, a small smirk forming. "But seriously, what do you get out of all this? Helping me, I mean. I won’t judge... Boo-dini."

He let out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly as if considering how to answer. “I…want to remember what it’s like to feel alive again. See what I missed out on.”

“That’s fair,” you nodded, understandably.

“Expected more from me, humie?”

You shrugged. “Thought you’d have a deeper back story, but that’s fine.”

Jeonghan scoffed softly, giving you a teasing smirk before he began. In an instant, he was there—and then he wasn’t. The shift was so sudden it left you reeling. Just as he’d predicted, a shiver rippled down your spine, cold and unsettling. But what he hadn’t mentioned were the flashes of unfamiliar images that flickered behind your eyes, moments you’d never lived but somehow felt were real.

They came and went so fast, you couldn’t make sense of them—fleeting fragments of his past, perhaps, or echoes of something even older.

‘How are you?’ he voice said, interrupting your thoughts.

You quietly nodded, reassuring him.

‘Very well then. Your lead, dear host.’

You wandered into the laundromat with your overstuffed hamper, feeling a bit like a laundry pirate hauling treasure—or dirty socks—across the high seas. You’d made the executive–and rightfully cowardly–decision to skip your usual laundry day, and now it was leading up to this very moment. Jeonghan stayed mostly dormant in your body as you claimed an empty machine, the back of your head itchy knowing another being was sharing your body that has led you this far. And now it was going to lead you to get laid.

It was like clockwork. Any minute now, Seungkwan would stroll in, and Jeonghan would take over, handling all the nerve-wracking nonsense you'd rather avoid.

‘Don’t be nervous,’ his voice echoed, ‘I almost thought it was my own heart racing, then I remembered I’m dead.’

“Sorry,” you muttered softly under your breath, ignoring the supernatural’s attempt at a joke.

‘It’s fine. Everything will be fine.’

“I know,” you sighed.

“You know what?”

You spun around, facing Seungkwan, who’d entered with that casual, friendly energy you always admired. He smiled, raising an eyebrow at your startled expression.

"Seungkwan!" you blurted out, trying to push the embarrassment down as far as it would go.

“Hey, neighbor,” he greeted, already moving toward his machine, gently separating colors from whites. “How are you?”

“Good—Great! Why do you ask?”

He gave you a light shrug, glancing up with a playful grin. “Just sounded like you were talking to yourself.”

“Well, who doesn’t?” you quipped, trying to play it cool. “Sometimes thinking out loud helps clear the head noise, right?”

“Right,” he said, stretching with an amused smile, clearly entertained by your odd, jittery energy.

‘Wow, thank god you have me.’

You quietly cursed Jeonghan in your head for making this harder than it needed to be, before mustering up the nerve to approach Seungkwan, fingers nervously fidgeting.

"Hey, so... you mentioned you were going to be out of town for Halloween, right?"

Seungkwan looked up, surprised and then grinned. "You remembered! Yeah, what’s up?"

You hesitated for a second, feeling Jeonghan’s smug presence lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. "I thought..."

Seungkwan leaned casually against the now-humming washer, hands tucked in his pockets, his curious gaze fixed on you. "Yeah?"

You tried to keep your cool, but the moment the words "we could do something" left your mouth, your brain started to short-circuit. Seungkwan turned to you with that easygoing grin of his, waiting for you to elaborate, and you could already feel the awkwardness creeping in.

Jeonghan’s voice chimed in, ‘You’re fumbling. Let me take over.’

Before you could protest, the familiar shiver ran down your spine. Suddenly, everything felt distant—your limbs moved, but you weren't fully in control anymore.

Jeonghan’s smooth voice came out of your mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was thinking, maybe we could hang out before you head out of town? You know, catch a movie, grab a drink, something low-key, say my place?"

Seungkwan's smile widened, surprised but clearly intrigued. "You want to hang out with me?”

Jeonghan, still in control of your voice, replied effortlessly, "Of course." Before you could even process what was happening, your feet began to move on their own, gliding across the floor like a spy on a secret mission. Jeonghan closed the distance between you and Seungkwan, and suddenly, your hands were fidgeting with the hem of Seungkwan's shirt. “I figure it’s a good excuse to steal some of your time before Halloween hits."

Your heart raced, and you mentally screamed at Jeonghan, Okay, okay, that’s enough! I can take it from here!

But he was on a roll. "Tomorrow?" Seungkwan asked, leaning casually against the washing machine, though the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot betrayed his nervousness. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"Tomorrow’s perfect," Jeonghan responded smoothly, maintaining the effortless flow of the conversation. "I’ll text you the details."

With each word, your body felt like it was moving on autopilot, and while you were horrified by the lack of control, a part of you couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. Jeonghan was nailing it, but the closeness to Seungkwan was almost too much to handle.

Suddenly, Seungkwan playfully entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through your hand, as his grin graced his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of the connection. When you opened them, you found an unreadable expression on his face—intense and smoldering. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, his voice slightly softer now. “Looking forward to it.”

The way he held your gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you faded into a soft blur. Even though Jeonghan was in control, your thoughts tangled with the heat of the moment, coursing through you like a fever.

As soon as Seungkwan turned away to his laundry with a lingering grin, Jeonghan released control, and the reins were back in your hands. You blinked, still a bit disoriented from the possession.

‘See? Easy,’ Jeonghan’s voice echoed smugly in your mind.

‘You’re impossible,’ you shot back.

‘But effective.’

That night, you tackled all the prep work you knew you needed to get done. It had been a while since you’d done anything like this, and you definitely had some dust bunnies and spiderwebs in your attic.

“Humie–oh.”

“Jeonghan! What the hell?” Your eyes flew open as you scrambled to pull the shower curtain over your bare legs, the chill of the water sending a shiver up your spine from the products strewn haphazardly at the edge of the sink. “Do you fucking mind?”

“Well, well. Look at you, all cleaned up. At least yourself, anyway. Can’t say the same for the bathroom floor—or that mountain of grooming products over there.”

You gripped your makeshift cover-up a little tighter, groaning in frustration. “Privacy, please! I barely have any as it is.”

“I’m just saying, I’m proud of you. Now, if you manage to sweep up after, I might even give you a round of applause.”

“Out!” you snapped, glaring.

He shrugged, turning to leave with an impish grin. “Hey, roommates catch each other with their pants down one way or another.”

If you weren’t already a bundle of nerves, Jeonghan was getting far too comfortable for your liking. Leading up to that night and the big day, he had been dishing out advice on everything from what to wear to what movie to play, right down to critiquing the meager food stock in your fridge.

“That’s it, you need to go grocery shopping.”

“I can't afford that right now!”

“Just get Instacart. I don’t care. This apartment is as bare-bones as it gets.”

“I have popcorn, soda, and some chocolate for Halloween when I'm giving them out.”

“First of all, popcorn isn’t actually food. Second, prebiotic soda doesn’t count as real soda. And if you can get chocolate, then you can definitely manage to buy some real groceries.”

But just as you were about to respond, luck decided to abandon you with a sharp knock at the door. “No time!” you hissed, “now scr—oh, you’re already gone.”

One moment he was there, and the next, he had vanished. Now, it was all on you, and nothing felt more nerve-wracking. You tugged your shorts down just enough to cover the rest of your bottom, anxiety buzzing in your chest. Your hand hovered over the doorknob as you took a deep breath, trying to muster some confidence before swinging it open to reveal who was waiting outside.

“Seungkwan, hey!”

“Hey!” he grinned, his Halloween-themed vest adding a playful touch to his outfit as he juggled a couple of bags in his arms. “You didn’t ask, but I thought I’d surprise you with some food. Pumpkin-spiced spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Oh, uhhh…”

He burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just messing with you! It’s actually butternut squash gnocchi and some stuffed peppers that look like pumpkins.”

“Oh, thank God! That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s festive without going overboard.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a warm rush of relief. “Come in.”

As you stepped aside to let him in, you couldn’t help but notice how wholesomely he was dressed compared to your casual attire. Suddenly, you felt a pang of self-consciousness.

“I like your sweater,” you said, trying to mask your growing insecurity.

He looked down, a hint of modesty crossing his face. “Yeah, I think it’s just the right amount of festive, but—”

“It’s festive but not overboard,” you responded, playfully tossing his words right back at him.

He grinned, “Exactly!”

You smiled back, feeling a wave of warmth as Seungkwan's presence began to calm your nerves. As he settled into the familiar space of your apartment, you couldn’t help but discreetly scan the room for any signs of your ghoulish roommate. Half-relieved to find nothing, half-disappointed that your spectral “backup” was nowhere in sight, you let out a quiet sigh. And now it was just you—and the human you actually invited in.

Hesitantly, you eased into the spot next to him on the couch, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your hands were jittery as you picked up the remote, scrolling through the movies you’d lined up, your mind racing to figure out what to do next.

You glanced at him, hoping for some sort of sign or direction, but the words caught in your throat. The longer you scrolled, the more painfully aware you became of the silence, as if it only heightened the nervous tension taking over your body, weirdly missing Jeonghan and how flawlessly he executed what he did yesterday.

"So, movies," you said, aiming the remote at the TV.

"Movies," he echoed, mimicking your tone.

“I mean,” You raised a brow. "What do you have in mind? And there is a right answer."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, I love Halloween, but..."

"But?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.

"I... really can’t handle scary movies. Halloween Town is probably my limit."

"Halloween Town? The kids’ movie?"

"Hey, don’t knock it. They had great graphics!"

"They had awful graphics!" you shot back, incredulous.

He grinned, half-joking but clearly standing by his point. "Yeah, now. But for its time?”

You shook your head in playful disbelief, unable to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous. But fine, your choice.”

You were left with very few options. Seungkwan had suggested a few festive, family-friendly titles, but you managed to persuade him to consider a couple of mild thrillers—some stupid but perfectly on theme.

“The zombie version of Twilight? Seriously? Zombies?" he repeated, stressing the idea with disbelief.

You shrugged, smiling from his reaction. “You might like it.”

He dropped his head in defeat, cute little whines escaping his pursed lips. “Fine, but you’d better be my shield for this, okay, neighbor?”

The movie began to play, the take-out boxes popped open, and your nerves were on high alert, vibrating like something else does on a normal Friday night for you. Except now, it was just you and the incredible realization that the man you're very much interested in was mere inches away. You were a fucking wreck.

Surprisingly, Seungkwan was genuinely enjoying the film, finding unexpected humor and charm in the cringeworthy blockbuster. His laughter was soothing and infectious, gradually easing your nerves until you started to feel normal again. Why were you like this?

Wait, you felt normal again, but what was normal?

Before you fully grasped what had happened in that fleeting moment of clarity, your hand made contact with Seungkwan, trailing lightly up his forearm. He immediately turned to face you, and your eyes locked, but suddenly they felt as if they belonged to someone else as if you were watching a different kind of film—a film where you were a separate character, experiencing everything from an alternate reality.

“Seungkwan,” your voice spoke, sounding foreign and distant as if someone else were taking control. Jeonghan?

‘It was so painful to watch.’

Jeonghan guided your hand to brush against Seungkwan's ear, teasingly grazing the tip and relishing the warmth that bloomed between your fingers.

“Hey,” he replied, his nerves speaking for him. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped from the depths of your throat, echoing Jeonghan’s playful menace. “You didn’t think we were just going to watch a movie, did you?”

Seungkwan audibly gulped, his eyes darting around as anxiety crept in. “We aren’t?”

“What’s the matter?” Jeonghan leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Seungkwan’s ear. “Where’s that confidence you had yesterday?”

Seungkwan suddenly tossed a pillow onto his lap, speechless and blushing fiercely. “Sorry,” he stammered, caught off guard. “I never anticipated—”

“Oh, really? You never expected to do something other than watching movies?” Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you could feel Seungkwan melt into your touch with a gentle whimper.

A delighted sigh escaped you, fueled by Jeonghan’s newfound confidence coursing through your veins as your thumb traced the curve of Seungkwan’s Adam’s apple, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

“You didn’t think for a second, I’d–you know–keep the night as is, did you?”

He softly groaned in his throat, feeling the tension seep inside him. “Are you suggesting?”

“I don’t want to just watch movies with you, Seungkwan. It’d be more fun to make our own. Isn’t that right?”

“...yes. God, yes.”

He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands, and pressed his lips to yours in a swift, hungry kiss, sending a surge of electricity through you as your tension unraveled in waves. His weight dipped against your body, pinning you against the rough tweed of the couch. His soft moans mingled with your breaths, muffled yet threatening, as if he were desperate to let loose and explore the desire in his heart while you were within reach.

‘That’s it.’

Your hand held the back of his head, catching strands between your fingers and tugged, ravaging his lips as if it’d be the last time you’d get a chance. You weren’t sure when Jeonghan gave you back your control, but in the heat of the moment, none of it mattered.

He tasted like a life force, fueling the fire burning in your loins and the fire kindling in your stomach; he had you wanting more with every passing second. His hands grabbed you recklessly, throwing his weight against you and squeezing your flesh until it was tender and malleable in his hands. This wasn’t something to unfold on the couch, you thought—not when a big, inviting bed lay just a few steps away, calling for you.

Your feet regained enough feeling to guide you off the couch, and before you knew it, you were stumbling toward your room, feverish and driven, with no thought of turning back. Your hands found his clothes, teasing beneath his holiday vest and up his torso, admiring the smooth flush of skin that graced your senses. He gasped, succumbing to your excitement and leaned into it, falling seamlessly into your rhythm.

“Didn’t want to stretch this, but,” he pulled the vest and shirt beneath over his head, tossing them aside in the corner. You let your hand linger longer on his body, running along the curve of his spine as he pulled you closer.

Seungkwan grasped your waist, savoring your lips with gentle strokes of his tongue before lifting you from the ground and onto the bed. Your bodies crushed against one another, peeling off articles of clothing one piece at a time until you were almost bare, expertly taking you apart to have you whole. All to himself as far as he knew.

“Seungkwan,” you called out in pleas, hands cradling the back of his neck as his hair fell over his eyes. “I want you so bad…”

“You’re telling me,” he managed to breathe out, gripping your underwear at its hem and scrapping it over your hips as he pulled them down. “I’ve thought about you ever since I met you.”

Your heart bloomed in your chest, pleasantly startled by his confession. Your hands ran through his hand, pushing them over his forehead despite knowing they’d only fall back in place. “You were always so…friendly.”

He smiled, pressing it against the corner of your lips and decorating your cheeks and jaw with kisses. “Yeah. I always hoped that we’d be more than just friendly.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” You pulled him back into a lip lock, parting your legs to give him access.

‘Look at all the fun you’re having.’

Jeonghan was like a wandering whisper, weaving through your thoughts as Seungkwan enveloped your senses. Seungkwan’s hands were on your body, touching what’s yours and making it his, where Jeonghan could feel it as much as you could, and you knew it. He got off on this just as much as you did.

‘Feel him rubbing that pretty pussy of yours.’

“So wet…” Seungkwan said with ache, sounding like he was pleading.

His digits found your sensitivity and thumbed over your clit, stimulating you until your voice rang but the last thing you were doing was speaking. You became fluent in moans, fluid in body language, and perfect in Seungkwan. Your breath dragged on, panting against him as your leg hooked to his side, holding him with urgency.

‘So fucking horny…you were begging to be fucked, hmm?’

You couldn’t help but nod, hand lowering to find Seungkwan’s raging erection just within reach. He softly gasped, thrusting into your touch as you held his shaft, stroking his length that felt so full in your hands. So stiff, yet warm to the touch, almost tasting the tension on your tongue.

‘Look at that size, huh? Imagine how that feels in you. Stretching your pussy and making you feel so full? Doesn’t that sound amazing?’

“I need you in me Seungkwan.” You begged in desperate pants, gripping him by the forearms. “I want to feel you inside me.”

There was a certain eagerness in his eyes, the kind that said he would do anything and everything for you in a heartbeat and succeed. You weren’t dealing with any average guy that wanted to get off. “Fuck,” he whispered, before lifting his upper body, putting himself on full display.

His physique was magnificent in every way, tantalizing and captivating like nothing you’ve ever encountered. You had an inkling of what he looked like under all his clothes, the veins always so prominent on his forearms and hands when he strained to reach something on a shelf, the line of his back when his lifted shirt revealed just a sliver of skin, or his wide hips, baring an ass so round and full they look like they came straight out of the oven. Never have you ever wanted to run your hands over something, nor have you ever wanted to sink your teeth into something. Yet, here was Seungkwan: utterly delectable.

Seungkwan dragged you by the ankles, moving you effortlessly as he angled himself between your legs, your molten heat practically dripping at the sight of him. His groan bounced off the walls, hand coming over your inner thighs and gently massaging your skin. As his kisses started to pepper over your legs, you felt your pussy physically throb, damned to eternal craving.

“You look like heaven,” He cried against your thighs. “Any protection?”

“It’s right–oh.” You picked up a rubber conveniently left at your nightstand, then handed it to Seungkwan. You‘re welcome.’

He set it aside with a smile and instead of putting it on, his face fell on your heat. He tasted you like it was worship; the dance of his tongue was his prayers, while your response flowed like a cascade of blessings. You whined when you felt him pursed around your clit, teeth barely grazing you as he sucked down like you’re the last bit of syrup in a dessert.

At the same time, his eyes glazed over to yours, a hand hovering over your chest, inaudibly asking permission, and when you gave him a wordless nod, he grabbed handfuls of your breasts. He kneaded you between his knuckles, rolling your buds between his fingers, and having you surrender to his chase.

“Seungkwan, please…”

Seungkwan’s eyes glimmered with pride, a sultry testament to the depth of his exploration. The longer he ventured, the more you found ogasmic relief, feeling every ounce of his efforts and every ounce of his pleasure. You held him by his hair, leg anchoring over his back, feeling his tongue massage your inner walls. His voice vibrates inside you, somehow stealing your breath, and filling you with utter euphoria.

‘You feel that? How much he wants you? How much he craves you. He’s been waiting for this day. And you should reward him. Don’t you think?’

You tugged him up, watch him gasping for air, replace one pair of lips with another. You flipped him on his back, gaining momentum, and relishing in the power of control, and swallowing his gasps. You aligned the hilt of his cock towards you, ensuring you wrapped it protection before it sat between the slit of your folds.

Seungkwan tilted his head back, his eyes glistening with desire as he admired you, his gaze revealing his thoughts like an open book. "You're so sexy," he murmured, the words spilling out without hesitation. While his look said it all, hearing it felt like a heated rush of affirmation, and it made you want him more.

You pushed his length in you, feeling his size pulsate through you, and a moan managed to pass through your lips. Shivers ran down through you, goosebumps pebbling your skin, and you realized the raging presence of Seungkwan was going to be the death of you. As he rocked inside you, he held your hips in place, guiding your form up and down on lap, adjusting to your squeeze, and adjusting to how it contracts. “Oh my god, please, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Just like I wanted,” You teased.

Your lips brushed against his neck, grazing your teeth over his skin before making passionate kisses to his neck, grinding down on his body until there isn’t a hint of space between your bodies. You were growing weary–albeit needy–chasing a high that was so close to be conquered. You felt it, Seungkwan felt it, and damn well Jeonghan felt it. You needed more, just a little more.

Suddenly, the air was knocked out of your lungs, as if something vital had escaped from within you, and your movements were put to a halt.

“Sorry,” you apologize, pushing the hair way from your face. “Not sure what happened. I promise–”

“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.”

You heard his voice—or rather, an echo of Jeonghan’s voice—calling from below you, and as you met his gaze in Seungkwan’s eyes, your expression widened in shock. “Jeonghan,” you declared menacingly.

“In the flesh. Well, not my own, but you get the idea,” he quipped.

You nudged at the body beneath you, careful of not hurting the host. “Get out of this poor human’s body right now! What happened to consent?”

“Oh, he’s very much consenting to the thrill of this level of intimacy,” Jeonghan replied, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

“Not when it involves a literal ghost!”

“Relax, he won’t remember a thing. My spirit won’t let him. All he’ll recall is the good time he had,” the body thief winked playfully.

“Bullshit! Do what’s right and let the boy go.”

“But I am doing what’s right.” His grip tightened around your hips, pushing Seungkwan’s cock deeper in you as if it was possible and ebbing weak moans from as he pulled you closer, a wicked smile dancing on his lips. “So right.”

“J-Jeonghan,” you stammered, your pulse quickening.

“I just couldn’t take it anymore, Humie. You looked absolutely ravishing. I had to experience you for myself.”

Your head was screaming all kinds of denial, but your body thrived off his confidence, his energy was flowing through you, splitting through you and hitting a spot of pliancy. This was so wrong. “This…this is violating…for him…”

“But you love it, don’t you? It’s like a wicked thrill, a tantalizing pleasure that feeds your deepest, most tumultuous desires.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the pulsating cock rocking your very core. “And what kind of desires is that?”

“You want us both,” he answered plainly. “The human and me.”

You shook your head, fingers tightening around Seungkwan’s shoulders in a desperate bid for security as you fought against Jeonghan’s seductive temptations. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Then, why don’t you get off of me?”

“It’s Seungkwan I can’t get off of,” You clarified.

You could recognize Jeonghan’s smile, even though it was plastered on Seungkwan’s face—so conniving, so devilish. It exuded an intoxicating power that was inhumane, but irresistible. “But it's me you’re riding–and fucking hell–you look so good doing it.”

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, pleading for release from his coercion, but as you feared, mercy eluded you entirely.

“Yes,” His palm rode up your body, his lips parting in haughty confidence. “Beg for me, beg for me to fuck you full.”

“...Fuck it. I want you to fuck me full.” You accepted him, feeling the tension of the cock inside you, ripple waves straight into your heat.

Mindlessly, you accepted his domineering hand that landed on your mouth, feeling it travel past your lips, parting way with his thumb. You wrapped your lips around his digits, sucking them like candy, and the shame that once enveloped your paradoxical feelings dissipated, leaving only a deep hunger in its wake.

Whether it was Jeonghan or Seungkwan beneath you, it was all true to its very core. You had an undeniable infatuation for your cute neighbor and a strange fascination with the handsome ghost. The connection you felt with both was more than palpable, leaving you with an unexplained frenzy of emotions that would require extensive therapy. You knew the logical choice was the one who was alive, but you had never considered that you could have both—especially not in such a chaotic, unorthodox three-way.

“Look at what a slut you are for us, your lips so perfect wrapped around these slender fingers of his.”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly muttered to yourself, grinding harder, sucking Seungkwan’s fingers deeper, and gradually succumbing to Jeonghan’s demands.

Jeonghan let out a deep, rolling laugh that resonated from Seungkwan’s core, a sound so rich and dark it sent a momentary unease through you. “You’re simply giving into your desires, why fight it?”

“You damn well know why,” you spat out his fingers and gritted your teeth.

“Now that’s not nice,” His hand covered the shape of your ass, cupping them in his palms, “Do I need to show you how to be nicer to me?”

“Jeonghan,” you groaned, feeling his digits dig into your flesh as he spread them apart.

“What’s that, baby?” he experimented, “Looks like I have to make this a teaching opportunity after all? Because you can’t show your gratitude?”

“Jeonghan, please.”

“Well, if you insist.” With an unexplainable, arcane, supernatural force, the dynamics were switched and Jeonghan had you on your stomach, ass conveniently placed in from of him.

“Jeonghan!”

"I always knew you looked good from every angle, but wow—this one is something else." His hand glided over your curves, Seungkwan’s cock splitting down your divide, you grasped your thirst.

Anticipation was wreaking havoc on your sanity, leaving you in a deafening silence as you waited for Jeonghan to make his move, impatience following. “Will you just–”

A hand clashed against your backside, your skin stinging from impact, and relieving you from a ched yelp. Jeonghan braced you against a groin, the erection nudging at your skin. “So needy,” he chuckled. You felt the tip tease along your slip, eventually filling you up in that familiar way.

You whimper, the size still enticingly foreign, and back into his weight, feel yourself travel all the way down to the base.

“An impatient,” Jeonghan softly groans, grounding himself to you in careful, yet sharp thrusts.

You balled your sheets into fists, your voice muffled as you buried your face in a pillow.

He chuckled against his skin. “That good?”

“Y-yes,” you helplessly whispered.

He slammed down on you, releasing a squeaky spring sound from the bed, both embarrassing and strangely arousing. “Even when I do that?”

“Yes…more please…”

Jeonghan repeated the move, finding a steady rhythm, and watched as your skin and flesh recoiled back against him. He could feel his host basking in the intensity of this pleasure, tears swelling his eyes as your moans echoed in his ears, memorizing from the decibels your voice reached, to the way you looked from behind, and even how the flesh of thighs spilled when you collapsed wearily on the mattress.

“Insane,” He said in hushed whispers.

“Stop it,” you whined.

“Stop what? Showing you how fucking perfect you are taking my cock?” He grunted.

You pressed your lips in a firm lip, clawing down on the bed as your core tightened, every pound drilling into you, giving into his indulgence and taking you along with him. He made every thrust count as the echo of skin slapping faded into the background.

“Oh please, help me cum.” You begged. “Please, please, please…”

His pace quickened, his rhythm erratic. “Yeah, you want you cum coat around my cock like a good little whore.”

“Yes, Jeonghan please, just give it to me.”

“You asked, and you shall receive.”

Finally, he bottomed out into you, unleashing the reins he held to prolong this moment and cut them lose. Your body was no longer yours, weakened by the spirit draining your energy. Your jaw fell slack, unable to close, a waning moaning stretching for miles, ecstasy coursing through your veins.

You said one name, then another, and then again. This was really confusing but you were here, pounded into obvious for what it seems like endlessly, until you realized you were full and not with what you had initially anticipated. In the remenance of fatigue from the sex, you fail to notice the lack of protetction seeing as proof of you supernatural rendezvous was seeping out of you like a slow river.

“Jeonghan!”

“What?” he drowsily answered as he claimed the side of the bed besides you, evidently using the extent of Seungkwan’s body.

“What the fuck happened to the condom?”

“Please, that’s my own cum.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ectoplasm, you know. Comes from all sorts of places.”

“I hate you so much—am I gonna get pregnant with ghost kids?”

“Relax, and no you aren’t. It’s as effective as…something really ineffective–fuck, I’m tired.”

“And Seungkwan. What about Seungkwan?”

“He’s fine and his release became as good as mine when I possessed his body. His soul is asleep right about now, having a catnap. Now come here.” he pulled you towards him, throwing your covers over you and keeping you away from the draft into to room, slipping you into his arms. “Stop tiring yourself out any further and rest. Everything will be fine when he wakes up like a man that got laid: amazing.”

“Fine,” muttered with heavy eye lids, “but only because im really tired.”

And from that moment sleep was easy.

You woke up to those same arms, now only asleep and less “ghost-like” and snuggled up closer to him, a newly acclaimed heat source. A soft chuckle escaped him, holding you tighter in his embrace as a kiss fell on the top of your forehead. “Hey there.”

You smile, cupping the side of his face in your hand. “Hi.”

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he said, planting another kiss on your nose. “Is it weird to say it felt so good I kinda blacked out?”

“Ha,” you shook your head, knowing the truth, “No, but thank you for the massive compliment.”

He grinned, a flush of red coating his cheeks, before pulling you into a deep and wonderful kiss, entanging his legs with yours. He seeped into realization when he found the mess between your legs, untouched since sex. “Oh shit, i did that, didn’t i?”

“It’s okay, I…have some sort of protection.”

“One moment.” Seungkwan came up naked from the bed, momentarily left the room, and with a noticeably wet hand towel. “I usually have an extra clean one on hand for after my workout. Glad I brought a backpack for no reason today.

As he inched closer, he sat between your legs, uncovering you from the blanket, and politely asked if he could help. When he received your consent, he brought it up to the mess, gently swiping between every crevice, ridding any remnants of cum that might have been left over.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you reassure, visibly gushing.

“Of course, I do.” He insisted, a sincere smile gracing his features. “It's my pleasure taking care of you.”

It was so disorienting going from the original to Jeonghan’s version and back to the original Seungkwan. As if you were once looking through a window of an alternate reality. Still a lot to process what happened.

“I don’t usually do this,” you try explaining yourself, “I just…I’ve been into you for a long time and I just thought, maybe, you felt the same.”

“I do,” he pressed his lips to your inner thigh. “A lot.”

“So you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?”

“I wouldn’t object to the idea,” he grinned, “especially if we get to do what we did to make me black out in the first place.”

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tokkiwrites · 25 days ago

Text

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (2)

mom's fiancé/bf! joel miller x f! reader • part one here

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants. tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, nsfw, head f receiving, p in v unprotected, breeding kink, cum eating & fingering for like a sentence. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ you asked, and i delivered. PART TWO IS HERE YALL. i hope I didn't let you down :( 5.52k words of pure wrongness, but hey, it's joel, so it's okay (haha, not). not proofread, so if you see any errors, just close your eyes pls thank you.

The weight of that night lingered in every breath you took. The memory of Joel's touch, his hands tracing every inch of your body, had seared itself into your skin, refusing to fade. It wasn't just the physicalㅡ it was the way his voice had trembled when he whispered your name. The way he'd held you like you were something sacred something he couldn't afford to lose. But you both knew that after last night, everything had changed. There was no going back

The secret you now carried inside you was heavier, pulling you further into an abyss you couldn't climb out of. And the worst part? You wanted more. Now that, you had tasted what it felt like to have him, the craving for him was worse than ever. You were addicted. The first morning without him felt empty wrong. You should have been able to bury the night, to bury the guilt, but instead, it gnawed at you, weaving into the longing that wrapped itself around your chest like a vice. You scrolled through your phone again, reading the last text he had sent.

• miss you, baby. I can't stop thinking about you. Wish it was you here with me.

your heart twisted in your chest as you read it again, your fingers hovering over the screen, aching to respond. He was gone. He had left early that morning with your mother, whisked away on a honeymoon that was supposed to be filled with love and joy: A honeymoon that, in a cruel twist of fate, was meant to celebrate his new life with her.

But here he was, texting you and you couldn't help but answer the pull that tied you to him. You could practically hear his voice when you read his words, feel the roughness of his hand brushing against your skin in the way your body still hummed with

the memory of him, and your cunt still felt him deep inside of you. Your fingers shook as you typed your response:

• I miss you too.

You stared at the words, hating yourself for them, but unable to stop. You hit send before you could think twice. A sick sort of thrill coursed through you as you imagined him reading it, imagined him lying next to your mother, his phone lighting up with your message, pulling him back to you even from miles away.

You had woken up in his arms, tangled in the sheets, the air between you still thundering with the afterglow of the forbidden but impossibly sweet. You had watched him get dressed in silence, his eyes lingering or you with a mixture of longing and regret before he had leaned down, kissed you hard, and whispered, "This changes everything." that it had. You hadn't stopped thinking about him a second since. But the worst part was, neither had he. Another message came through, lighting up your phone, pulling you from your thoughts.

• I need you. Being here with her feels wrong, baby. don't know how I'm gonna survive his week without touching you. ❤️

your breath caught in your throat as yot read it, heat blooming low in your belly. He missed you. He wanted you. Even while he was supposed to be with her, on their honeymoon, he was thinking about you.

You hated the way it thrilled you, how the hought of him being with your mother didn't make you sick with jealousy, but instead only intensified the twisted longing that had wrapped itself around your heart. You knew it was wrong, god, it was so wrong, but now that you'd had him, you couldn't stop wanting more. You typed back, your fingers moving quickly, not giving yourself a chance to reconsider.

• need you, joel, I dunno know how to do this.

the truth of those words settled over you. you didn't know how to do this. how to navigate this mess of secrets and lies, of immense guilt. All you knew was that the need for him hadn't gone away: it had only grown stronger. As you waited for his response, you lay back in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. you mind replaying every moment of the night before. Your phone buzzed again.

• ill find a way for us to be together.

it was insane. It was dangerous. But he means it. And so did you. this impossibly tangled knot that you couldn't unravel, no matter how hard you tried. And part of you didn't want to. You wanted him. Still. More now than ever.

Your phone vibrated once more

•When I get back, I need to see you. Alone We'll figure this out, I promise.

You were already too far gone

Joel’s name lit up your phone screen, the buzzing pulling you from your thoughts. It was a shock, seeing him call. You hesitated for a moment, your thumb hovering over the screen, before finally answering. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice shaking slightly. “Hi, baby.." Joel’s voice came through low and rough, like gravel under your feet. There was a pause before he spoke again, the silence thick. “I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to hear your voice.”

Your heart plummeted at his words. The sound of his voice alone sent a shiver through you, bringing back everything from the night before—the touch of his hands, the way he’d kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, the feeling of him filling you up. You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whine. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you confessed. There was a soft sound from him, almost like a groan, the tension in his voice unmistakable. “I’ve been thinking about you too, baby. I can’t stop. You under me like that, full of my cockㅡ it’s all I can think about. I keep replaying it. I miss you so much.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Hearing him say it made it all so real, the intensity of it, the wrongness, and yet how much you both wanted it anyway. You squeezed your eyes shut, the memory of his hands on you still fresh, your skin tingling. “It’s been so hard," you whispered. “ I hate that you’re there with her...” The words slipped your lips before you could process them. He exhaled deeply, like he was struggling to hold himself back. “I know,” he muttered, his voice tight. “I’m trying to be here, I really am, but all I can think about is you. You’re all I want. I wish I was with you right now, not here.”

What he was saying hit you hard. He was supposed to be on his honeymoon, with your mother. But here he was, calling you, telling you how much he missed you, how much he wanted to touch you, hear you moan his name again. It was twisted, but you couldn’t deny the way it made you feel—desired, important, needed. “Joel...” You didn’t even know what you were asking for. You just wanted to hear him say more, to fill the aching silence between you. “I can’t stand being away from you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Being here with her… it’s all wrong. 'm thinkin' about you the whole time. I want to be with you, not hidin' this.” The admission made your heart race, your body responding to the urgency in his words. You sat up on your bed, the phone pressed tight against your ear, needing to hear more.

“I need you,” you whispered, not caring anymore about what it meant. “I don’t know how to stop wanting you, Joel. I made everything worse. I don’t know what to do.” Joel’s voice came through soft but strained. “I don’t want you to stop. I don’t want this to end. I need you too, baby. I’ve needed you for so long, and now that I’ve had you…” He trailed off, breathing heavy on the other end of the line. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About us. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this week without you.”

Your heart ached hearing him say it. You imagined him there, lying next to your mother, feeling the same torment that was tearing you apart. The thought should have made you feel worse, but all it did was make you crave him more. “When you get back...” you began, your voice unsteady. “What’s going to happen?” There was a pause, tension .” I don't know, little girl. But I need my hands on you again, feel you around me, kiss yaㅡ we'll figure it out."

Before you could respond, you heard a faint sound in the background—your mother’s voice, calling for him. Your stomach twisted, the weight of everything crashing down on you. You felt like throwing up. He was still with her, still living this life he didn’t want, while you waited, caught in the middle of it all. “I have to go,” Joel said quickly, his voice urgent. “But I’ll call you again. I miss you, baby. We’ll figure this out.”

And then the line went dead.

You stared at the phone in your hand, the silence deafening. Your mind raced, thoughts tumbling over one another, but all you could think about was him—how much you still wanted him, even knowing how wrong it was. The pull between you was too strong, and you didn’t know how to stop. his last words were ringing in your ears—“We’ll figure this out.” But would you? Could you?

Your hand shook as you placed the phone down, the weight of everything suddenly pressing down on you with crushing force. The room felt colder, emptier, like all the air had been sucked out the moment his voice disappeared from the other end of the line. You had been holding it together, balancing the edge of something dangerous and intoxicating, but now, in the quiet of your room, the dam finally broke. You pressed your palms to your face, feeling the burn of tears already welling in your eyes. You couldn’t stop it. The guilt, the longing, the impossibility of it all—it came crashing down like a wave, and you were powerless against it.

A sob escaped your throat, low and broken, as you curled into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. The tears came hot and fast, spilling down your cheeks in heavy streams. You didn’t even try to hold them back. You wiped at your eyes, but the tears kept falling, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. You hated this—hated how torn you felt. Hated that, despite knowing how wrong it was, you couldn’t stop wanting him. It made everything feel impossible. You wanted him so badly, it ached. But the guilt—it clung to you, wrapped itself around your heart and squeezed, suffocating you with its weight.

The sobs came harder, your body trembling as you rocked yourself, trying to find some sort of release from the storm inside you. The image of Joel lying beside your mother, on their honeymoon, gnawed at you, twisting the knife deeper into your chest. How had you let it come to this? How had you fallen so far, wanting something you knew you could never truly have?

But even through the disgust, through the pain, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His voice, his touch, the way he had looked at you. It had felt real. Too real. And now it was like you were caught in a spiral, unable to pull yourself out. You cried harder, the sound of your sobs filling the quiet room, your heart breaking under the weight of it all. You pressed your face into your knees, feeling the dampness of your tears soak through the fabric of your jeans.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You had wanted to make your mother happy, to stay away, to be the good daughter. But Joel—he had always been the one thing you couldn’t resist. And now that you had crossed that line, there was no going back.

The phone buzzed softly beside you, the screen lighting up with a new message. You didn’t need to look at it to know who it was. Even now, your heart still reached for him, wanting more of the thing that was tearing you apart. But you couldn’t. Not right now.

So, you sat there, curled up in your bed, crying alone, knowing that despite everything, despite the pain, you were already too deep. And you weren’t sure how to climb out.

the time slipped through your fingers.

The sun had barely set when you heard the familiar sound of tires crunching on the gravel outside. Your heart raced in your chest as you glanced out the window, the bright glow of the headlights cutting through the dusk. Joel’s truck. They were back. He was back. you hated that he had to go away for work so often. even though the honeymoon ended early, he had to leave again for something regarding his job, so this was the first time you saw him in weeks.

The past week had felt endless—long days filled with quiet moments where you found yourself staring at your phone, hoping for a message that never came. After that phone call, everything had felt suspended, like you were teetering on the edge of something you could never go back from. You had tried to keep yourself busy, but every time your mind wandered, it drifted back to him—the sound of his voice, the memory of his touch. The longing, the guilt, the jealousy... it was all there, swirling together in a storm you couldn’t control.

You stood by the window, watching as Joel’s truck pulled into the driveway next to your mother’s. He climbed out, his tall figure silhouetted against the setting sun, a bag slung over his shoulder. You saw him exchange a few words with your mother, who was already standing on the porch, a wide smile on her face as she rushed over to greet him.

You blinked, shaking off the sudden wave of jealousy that washed over you. Stop it, you told yourself. She’s your mother, and he’s with her. You pulled away from the window, trying to steady your breath. But it didn’t help. The pit in your stomach only grew deeper. You couldn’t escape the feeling—the weight of what had happened, the shame that gnawed at you. You had always known this day would come, but that didn’t make it easier to face.

The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden. You froze for a second, your heart thudding against your ribs. Your mother called out, “I’ll get it!” But you knew it wasn’t her who he had come for. it was you. so you rushed in front of her, muttering a soft "i got it." When you opened the door, you saw him standing there, looking every bit like the man you had spent the last weeks fantasizing about. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes still shadowed from the exhaustion of travel, but there was something else—something hungry.

He was wearing a simple flannel, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, calloused forearms. He looked worn, but somehow more real than before. More him. You could feel your nipples harden at his sight. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low.

You nodded, feeling the tension coil tighter between you. For a moment, neither of you said anything—just stood there, caught in the gravity of what had happened, what you both knew but weren’t quite ready to speak.

Your mother’s voice interrupted the silence. "Come on in," she called out from the living room. "I was just looking at the pictures from the trip. Joel, why don’t you show her the ones we took from the beach?" Joel glanced at you, his eyes searching your face, but you forced yourself to smile, hiding the turbulence inside. You could already feel it— those pictures, the idea of him sharing his time with her, touching her, laughing and smiling while you were here, waiting, stuck between two worlds.

As you stepped into the living room, Joel followed, and your mother handed him a small photo album that just came in the mail with a beaming smile. "Look at this one, Joel. It’s from the sunset on the beach. I swear, the sky was never so perfect!" she exclaimed before heading to the kitchen to make some drinks for the three of you. Joel opened the album, flipping through the pictures. There they were—Joel and your mother, side by side, arms wrapped around each other, smiling as they stood by the ocean. You could see the joy in your mother’s face—the happiness you had always wanted for her, but it still stung. The sight of them together made your chest tighten with something you didn’t want to acknowledge. were you jealous?

Joel glanced up at you, sensing your discomfort. He cleared his throat, his voice lower than usual, as if he was trying to say something that hadn’t quite formed yet. "I missed you," he said quietly, glancing back at the pictures.

You stared at the photo of Joel and your mother standing on the beach, their hands intertwined. The image of them together, so carefree and happy, only deepened the ache inside you. You clenched your jaw, feeling the jealousy flare up—jealous of the way they had spent those days together. Jealous that he had touched her, laughed with her, shared moments you had longed for. He caught the shift in your mood, the way your eyes narrowed at the pictures. You couldn’t hide it. Joel stepped closer, his tone more serious now. "Hey, don’t look at it like that. babyㅡ"

You blinked, feeling the sting of unshed tears. "Like what?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt in your voice. "Like I’m..." He paused, his eyes searching yours, his hand hovering, almost as if he wanted to reach out but stopped himself. "Like I was with her, and not with you."

"But you were." You blurt it out.

Your heart hammered in your chest. The way he said it made the jealousy bubble up even more, but there was something else in his voice too—something like regret, like he was just starting to feel what had happened between the two of you. "I just..." You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. "I can’t do this, Joel. Seeing you with herㅡ it hurts."

Joel’s face softened, and he took a step closer, his hand finally finding yours. His touch was grounding, reassuring in a way you hadn’t expected. "Hey, look at me," he said softly. "It wasn’t like that. I’m with her, sure. I promised her, and I’m tryin' to be a good man for her, but it’s not the same. You’re different. You’ve got a hold on me, baby. on my soul and heart. I can’t explain it.." You stared at him, your heart a mess of confusion and desire. His words sent a wave of relief through you, but it didn’t erase the pain. You wanted him, but he was still bound to your mother, and that fact ate at you from the inside out.

"I can’t pretend," Joel said, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. "it’s not something I can just ignore. And I won’t let it destroy you or me. It’s just... hard to figure out where to go from here." Your breath caught in your throat. "I don’t want to lose you," you whispered. "But I don’t know how to do this—how to live in this space between what’s right and what feels so damn wrong."

Joel’s expression darkened for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on him as well. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. "I know it’s messy," he murmured. "But it’s not goin' anywhere. I’m not goin' anywhere."

There was no easy answer, no clear path to walk. But in that moment, as you stood in the same room as Joel and your mother, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you knew that whatever happened, you couldn’t walk away from him.

Not now. Not ever.

The early evening sun cast a golden glow across the kitchen as your mom stood in front of the mirror, giving herself one last look before grabbing her purse. She hummed to herself, the excitement of her night out with friends clear in her every movement. She was still glowing from the wedding, from the honeymoon. The happiness on her face felt like a knife in your chest.

"You're sure you'll be alright here?" she asked, her voice light, not really expecting a different answer from you. " I won't be too late." You nodded, trying your best to keep your smile steady. "Yeah, Mom. We'll be fine. You deserve to have fun." Your mom turned to Joel, who was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, his hands tucked into his pockets. "And you.." she teased, stepping closer to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I know you're not much of a party guy. Try not to be too boring while l'm gone."

Joel chuckled lightly, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. "I'Il behave,"' he promised, though his eyes flicked toward you for just a moment. a brief, loaded glance that made your heart flutter.

Your mom laughed, oblivious to the tension in the room, as she slung her purse over her shoulder. "Alright, don't wait up for me. I'll be back later." She waved, her heels clickingsoftly against the floor as she headed out the door.

The sound of the car starting up, the engine humming, and the tires rolling down the driveway were the last reminders of her presence before the house fell into silence. The quiet between you and Joel was immediate, heavy, as if the very walls of the house knew something had shifted. You stood there, not sure what to do. "Guess it's just us now," Joel said, his voice low, rough around the edges. He knew what he was doing. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Yeah... just us." You could feel his eyes on you, the same gaze that always seemed to see right through to the heart of you, the gaze that made you feel vulnerable exposed.

Joel pushed off from the counter, taking a few slow steps toward you. His movements were deliberate, careful. "You alright, baby?" You looked away, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to pull together some semblance of control, but it was no use. "I thought i could handle it, being here with you..." Joel's jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's been hard for me too," he said quietly, his voice strained. He reached out slowly, his hand brushing your arm, the touch so soft it sent a shiver through you. "This whole thing," he muttered, his eyes dark, intense, "it's not what I thought it would be. Not with you here. It ain't easy for me either."

Your pulse raced as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. "I don't know how to stop," you whispered, your voice trembling. Joel's hand moved to your waist, his grip gentle but firm. His touch was warm, grounding, but the fire between you was undeniable. "I can't stop." he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i've tried, but..."

He trailed off, his eyes flicking to your lips. You could feel the pull between you growing stronger, the tension wrapping tighter around you, making it harder to breathe. "Joel.." you gasped, not sure what you were asking for. "I know, baby.." you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. "I need you." you finally muster some courage. Joel's eyes darkened at your words, and before you knew it, his lips were on yoursㅡ soft at first, tentative, but when he felt you respond, the kiss deepened. His hand moved up your back, up into your hair, pulling you closer, his touch igniting something inside you that you had been trying to keep buried.

The kiss was everything you had been wanting, everything you had been denying yourself. It was soft but intense, slow but deliberate, and it left you breathless. But even as you kissed him, even as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him, the reality of it all lingered in the back of your mind.

you pull back for a second. "We shouldn't be doing this." Joel's grip tightened on you, his eyes searching yours. "i know, darli'. we shouldn't." He pulled you in again, his lips finding yours, and this time there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. It was raw, intense, and everything you had been craving. His hands moved over your back, your arms, as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if he had been holding back for too long. You let yourself forgef everything. He picks you up and places you on the cold kitchen counter, your legs wrapping around his middle. "Need'a taste you, sweet thing." You moan as he undresses you from your flimsy shorts, pulling them down and getting on his knees in front of you. "No panties, baby? filthy little thing." Though it wasn't on purpose, you can't help but blush at his reaction. Joel inched closer, rogh beard rubbing against your plush skin, making you jolt. finally, he sticks his tongue out, dragging it through your dripping folds. you grab onto the counter, leaning back on your hands as you try to bite back moans. "Look at ya, dirtying your moms counter. don't you feel bad?" he teases. you don'tㅡ for anything. it all fades away. the moment he digs into you, your eyes roll to the back of your head. joel circles his tongue around your swollen bud agonizingly slow. you try to push his head further, signal him to go faster, but he's adamant that he takes his time.

it doesn't take long until you feel yourself unraveling, that pit forming into your tummy as your muscles tense up. Just then, Joel pulls away with that, leaving you gasping for air. "Not yet, baby. want you to come on my cock." he was so vile, wiping his face with the shirt he had on before undoing his pants. they fall to his ankles and he scoots closer so that he's between your legs, his lenght resting snug between your puffy lips.

"Please, joel, don't do this to me.." You whine, unable to resist longer. "Pretty desperate thing. 's okay, I'll give it to you." With that, he pulls you closer and aligns himself with you dripping entrance. even if it wasn't the first time with him, it still stings, the stretch deliciously painful. "Fuck, baby, look at that. this pussy was made for me, yeah? say it baby. say this pussy is mine." he grabs you harshly by your face, as he pushes in fully. " 's all y-yours, joel, 'm all yours."

"damn right you are. my little girl, so eager to take my cock.." he deliberately snaps his hips, the tip slipping past your cervix. the pain was taking over your body, and you let yourself sob as joel holds you close while he starts moving. " 's okay, sweet thing. i got you. you're alright, you can take it." you are alright.

Joel leans down to capture your lips into another kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, igniting a spark within your core. The kiss deepens, filled with an intensity that speaks of desire. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as his fingers trace delicate patterns on your skin. The world around you blurs as he pushes inside of you faster, harder, and you hiss softly through the kiss. he's moving his hips the same rhythm as your heart that was pounding against your chest. "I can never get enough of you.." he growls through broken grunts as he moves into you, your walls clenching around him. "Joel, godㅡ" he leans down again, planting soft pecks across your collar bones and down to your breasts. "yeah? c'mon baby, tell me how good it feels."

"feels so good.." Your moans echo through his head like a melody, and you can feel Joel's grip onto your waist growing tighter. the familiar pool into your lower belly makes its presence known as your back arches against his hold, one hand slipping under one of your thighs as his lips write kisses from your neck to your pebbled nipples "I'm so closeㅡ" Your little cries are enough to send him over the edge. "I love you so much, baby, shitㅡ 'm gonna come some deep in you. feel me in your little tummy?"

your heart almost stops. he loves you. joel loves you. he said he loves you while he's drilling into you on your mom's countertop. and he's your mom's husband. as he's fucking deeper into you, the words slip out without warning, no second-guessing. "I love yㅡou, Joel!" he closes his eyes, forehead resting agains yours as his hips buckle from releasing white ropes of warm liquid inside of your velvet walls, the feeling overwhelming and suffocating. you wait for him to calm down a bit before you bring your hands to his face and pull him up for another kiss. You both catch your breath. finally, he breaks the silence, while taking his shaft out of your pulsing cunt.

"fuck, baby... look at the mess you made. you bad girlㅡ lick it up now." you whimper as you try to move your limp body down the counter, bending yourself over to lick up the juices and come that dripped from you. joel licks his lips, watching as his seed trickles down your thighs. he takes two fingers and with no warning sticks them up in you, as you still lick the cold surface. "Want it all in you." you feel his warm, thick fingers swirling around your cunt, pushing back in any come that may have slipped out. "You'll look so pretty with my baby in you."

Joel loves you.

taglist ⭐️ ㅡ @eviispunk @1-800-sluttysadness @joeldjarin @whimsiwitchy @guelyury

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller angst #pedro pascal angst

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dollgxtz · 2 months ago

Text

His Watchful Eye Pt. 7

Word Count: 19.4k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, dubcon, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, possession, mentions of pregnancy, FILTHY sex, fighting, gunshots, mentions of murder, manipulation, overstimulation if you squint, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, Xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey, @webmvie, @housesortinghat,

AN: Hi all, I know this chapter is a tad bit long, but I promise, its WORTH it. Per usual this is on A03! I'm like a day late from my usual uploading schedule (usually one chapter every 3-4 days) so I hope yall take this extra long chapter as an apology. I did not hold back on the smut, I genuinely hope yall enjoy!

“Let’s see…” he murmured, pretending to ponder, as if this were some casual decision for him to make. His fingers traced the nape of your neck, their touch light but chilling, sending jolts of dread through you. His hand moved with a practiced, deliberate care, as though every inch of your body was territory he owned. "Which one of these spots," he whispered, his voice taking on a dark, playful edge, "will make this kitten mewl?"

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.8

Xavier couldn’t tell how long he had been walking. Time had blurred into the inky darkness of the N109 Zone, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him with every step. His legs felt heavy, his throat dry, but his focus remained sharp. The soft, steady ping of his hunter’s watch echoed in the silence, pulling him forward. Somewhere ahead, the shoe store waited—the only lead he had left. And all he had to rely on was the sword strapped across his chest and his unwavering will to find you.

His fingers brushed the hilt of the blade as he walked, its weight a cold reassurance against his body. He wasn't sure how effective it would be against any other humans that attempted to mug him as he was used to fighting wanderers with it, but it would have to do. He was glad he had at least gotten out the car with it. He had moved it to his chest in case someone decided to sneak behind him while he was distracted and take it. Out here, in this wasteland, he was vulnerable without a vehicle, without the tools and resources he normally carried. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was you.

The streets around him were desolate, the buildings crumbling and lifeless, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. He could hear his own breath in the silence, shallow but steady, the cold air biting at his skin. Every now and then, he’d catch the distant echo of movement—too far off to be a threat, but close enough to remind him he wasn’t alone in this forsaken place. The N109 Zone was crawling with people desperate enough to do anything, and he knew he needed to stay alert.

He couldn’t shake the memory of what had happened—the screaming woman, the setup, the way his car had been stolen right from under him. He cursed under his breath, the sting of his own stupidity still fresh. He had fallen for it so easily, and now he was on foot, more vulnerable than ever.

Xavier clenched his jaw, replaying the earlier scene in his head. The way she had cried out for help, clutching her side like she was in agony, the way her eyes had flickered with panic. He should have known better. He did know better. But in that moment, with everything closing in, he had let his instincts take over. He thought he was helping someone. Instead, he had been played.

“Dammit” he muttered to himself, fingers tightening on the hilt of his sword as he kept up a steady pace. He couldn’t afford mistakes like that, not now. Not when you were out there, somewhere, needing him to stay sharp. He had to be smarter, more careful. The N109 Zone wasn’t a place for second chances.

His legs were growing heavy, the muscles in his calves burning from the relentless pace. Every few steps, he felt the dull throb of fatigue creeping into his knees and hips, a reminder that his body wasn’t invincible. His feet, blistered and sore, screamed for him to stop, to rest—if only for a moment. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

"Just a little further," he muttered under his breath, clenching his teeth against the pain.

He had been walking for what felt like hours, the weight of the sword strapped across his chest growing heavier with every step. His back ached from the constant pressure, his shoulders tense and knotted. But none of that mattered. He couldn’t afford to stop. Not when he was so close.

Each step felt like it might be the last, but the thought of you—struggling, god knows where—kept him moving. The sound of your voice from the phone call replayed in his mind, the fear and desperation in your tone fueling him, reminding him why he had to keep going.

The streets began to blur together, one broken block after another. His breaths came in shallow bursts, his lungs burning as he fought through the exhaustion. He was tired—no, he was beyond tired—but his will to find you was stronger than the fatigue gnawing at him. He couldn’t let it win.

Up ahead, the faint glow of a yellowed sign caught his eye. It was flickering weakly, casting long, broken shadows across the pavement. He squinted, his tired eyes struggling to focus. There it was—the address the watch had been guiding him toward. The shoe store.

Xavier let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His feet felt like lead, every step toward the store a battle against the growing urge to collapse. But the sight of the sign was enough to keep him moving. He was almost there.

As Xavier drew closer to the shoe store, he couldn’t help but feel a knot of doubt tightening in his chest. The outside of the building didn’t match what he had expected. The flickering sign was barely legible, the letters worn and faded, and the windows were grimy with age, giving the place a run-down appearance. It didn’t look like the kind of high-end store that sold the sleek, expensive boots the clerk had described—the same shoes your captor had been wearing.

He slowed his pace, his tired feet grateful for the brief respite as he studied the building. This can’t be right, he thought, a frown pulling at his lips. The store looked more like a relic from a forgotten time, barely holding itself together in the decaying sprawl of the N109 Zone. The mismatched paint on the door and the rusted metal frame didn’t scream wealth or sophistication. Nothing about it said “luxury.”

Xavier’s mind raced, questioning whether his watch had guided him to the wrong place. The man who took you, S, wasn’t just some street thug. He had resources, money—it was clear from the boots alone. So why here? Why a store that looked like it belonged in the past, forgotten like rest of the city?

His fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword, the familiar weight grounding him. The exhaustion still gnawed at him, his body screaming for rest, but he pushed the thought aside. He didn’t have time for second guesses. Even if this place didn’t look like much, he had to see it through. There was a reason his watch had led him here, and right now, it was the only lead he had.

Xavier’s blue eyes narrowed as he approached the door, the soft ping of his watch still steady on his wrist. It had never been wrong before. Maybe there was more to this store than what the outside suggested. Maybe S had connections, or maybe this place wasn’t as abandoned as it seemed. Either way, he had to be sure.

With a deep breath, he stepped toward the entrance, his hand resting on the door handle. He could feel the tension building inside him, his muscles coiled and ready for whatever might be waiting on the other side.

Xavier pushed open the door, bracing himself for the dingy interior he had expected based on the store’s run-down exterior. But as he stepped inside, he was immediately hit with a wave of disbelief. The space before him was nothing like the crumbling facade suggested. It was… luxurious.

Golden light bathed the polished floors, and the soft scent of leather and expensive cologne filled the air. Rows of sleek, high-end shoes lined the walls, each pair displayed under soft spotlights that highlighted their craftsmanship. Everything from the plush chairs in the waiting area to the glass display cases screamed elegance. The contrast between the worn-down exterior and the opulent interior was staggering.

For a moment, Xavier stood frozen in the doorway, his tired feet sinking into a plush carpet that muffled every sound. This wasn’t just a shoe store—it was a shrine to wealth and exclusivity, hidden behind the illusion of neglect. Clearly, this place wasn’t meant for just anyone. The shabby outside had been nothing but a mask, a way to keep out the prying eyes of the city’s less desirable inhabitants.

They were certainly selling more than just shoes.

He scanned the room, taking it all in. The shoes were high-end, just as the clerk had said—designer labels, rare materials, the kind of footwear that cost more than most people made in a month. The kind of shoes that only someone with serious money could afford. Someone like S.

Looks really could be deceiving.

Xavier’s mind raced. If this store catered to people like S, then maybe he was finally on the right track. Maybe the person who had taken you had come through here, thinking no one would ever suspect a connection to a place buried so deep in the N109 Zone.

His heart pounded, adrenaline kicking in as the exhaustion in his legs momentarily faded. He was closer to answers than he had been all night.

Behind the sleek glass counter at the back of the store, two men stood in conversation, their voices low but animated. One of them was tall and broad-shouldered, his tailored suit fitting him perfectly, the fabric shimmering subtly under the warm light. His dark hair was slicked back, and his fingers twitched as he gestured while speaking, a fat cigar wedged between them, sending curls of thick smoke into the air. The smoke hung heavily around his face, casting shadows over his sharp, predatory features. His eyes were dark and calculating, darting between the man beside him and the wares in the store, as if always on the lookout for the next move.

The other man was shorter, with a stockier build and a face that looked like it had seen one too many fights. His nose was crooked, a clear sign of old breaks, and his lips were drawn into a permanent scowl. He leaned casually against the counter, but there was a hardness to his posture, like he was always ready to snap into action. His eyes, though half-lidded with boredom, flicked toward the door with keen awareness as soon as Xavier entered.

For a moment, the two continued their conversation, but when they noticed Xavier standing there, something changed. The man with the cigar froze mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Xavier. His gaze shifted immediately to the sword strapped across Xavier's chest, the blade unmistakably visible under the store's soft lighting. The other man straightened, his scowl deepening as he looked Xavier up and down, suspicion clear on his battered face.

They exchanged a brief glance, their conversation forgotten. It was clear Xavier didn’t fit the usual profile of their clientele—well-dressed, wealthy types who’d come for rare shoes, not a man wandering in with a weapon strapped to his body, his clothes dusted from the road, looking out of place among the store’s refined luxury.

The man with the cigar took a slow drag, blowing out a cloud of smoke before speaking. His voice was smooth but laced with tension. “You lost, pal? Don’t think we’ve seen you around here before.” His eyes lingered on the sword a little too long.

The other man crossed his arms, his posture stiffening. “We don’t usually get the sword-swinging type in here,” he added with a sneer, his tone carrying an edge of hostility.

Xavier could feel their eyes drilling into him, the tension in the room palpable. They weren’t used to outsiders—especially ones who looked like they were ready for a fight.

Xavier remained unfazed by their stares, standing tall as he took in the two men sizing him up. His heart beat steadily beneath his chest, the weight of the sword across his body a constant reminder of the danger he was prepared to face. But he wasn’t here to start a fight—not yet, anyway.

“I’m looking for a pair of boots,” Xavier said, his voice calm and even. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the crumpled pamphlet the clerk back in Linkon had given him. He held it out, offering it to the taller man.

The taller man raised a dark eyebrow, his cigar still smoldering between his fingers. He didn’t say anything at first, just flicked his eyes from Xavier’s face to the pamphlet in his hand. After a moment of tense silence, he reached forward and plucked the paper from Xavier’s grasp, holding it between two fingers like it was something foreign. He glanced at it, his expression unreadable as his eyes scanned the image of the shoes.

"These," Xavier continued, nodding at the pamphlet, "were mentioned to me by a clerk. Said I could only find them here. Figured I’d check it out.”

The taller man took a long drag of his cigar before flicking the ash into a nearby tray, his gaze never leaving the pamphlet. Slowly, his lips curled into something that might’ve been a smile, but there was no warmth behind it—only suspicion. He flipped the paper over, examining it from every angle, as though looking for some hidden meaning.

"Yeah, these are high-end," the man finally said, his voice slow, almost mocking. “Not the kind of thing just anyone walks in and buys.” He held the pamphlet up, the glow from the store lights glinting off the printed image. “And you don’t look like someone who usually shops here.”

The stocky man leaned forward, still watching Xavier closely, his scowl deepening as if he didn’t trust a single word. “So, who exactly sent you here, huh?” His voice was sharper now, probing. “You’re not exactly our regular kind of customer.”

Xavier met their suspicion head-on, his expression calm and unwavering. He wasn’t here for their games. He was here for answers.

Xavier stood there for a moment, weighing his options. He could lie, make up some story about why he was really there, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. These men were sharp, too familiar with deception to fall for anything that didn't add up. He needed answers, not more dead ends. So, he decided to be straightforward—at least, as much as he could afford to be.

"I'm looking for someone," Xavier said, his voice low and steady. He kept his eyes on the taller man, watching his every reaction. “A man who goes by 'S'. I was told he might have been in here recently, maybe bought a pair of those shoes.”

For a moment, the room seemed to freeze. The taller man’s fingers stopped tapping the pamphlet, and the stocky one stiffened, his arms crossing even tighter over his chest. They exchanged a brief, tense glance.

Xavier could feel the shift in the air, the sudden unease hanging between them. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Whoever this "S" was, they knew him, or at least knew of him. And the fact that Xavier had mentioned his name seemed to set off alarm bells.

The taller man’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, guarded expression. He took another drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke into the air as he stared at Xavier, sizing him up once more. “S?” he repeated, his voice slow and deliberate, as if testing the waters.

“Never heard of him,” the stocky man cut in, his voice gruff, almost too quick. “Nobody like that shops here.”

Xavier held their gaze, not flinching. He could see the flicker of worry behind their eyes. They were hiding something. His instincts told him they knew exactly who he was talking about, but the way they clammed up the second he mentioned "S" told him they were afraid—afraid of being connected to something, or someone, dangerous.

The taller man folded the pamphlet neatly and set it down on the counter, his movements slow, deliberate. “You sure you’re not lost, friend?” he asked, his tone flat, giving nothing away. “This isn’t the kind of place you just wander into looking for people. This ain't the lost and found.”

Xavier felt the tension in the room thicken. It was clear they were stonewalling him, and the last thing they wanted was to get involved in whatever it was he was digging into. Whether it was out of fear of S or something else, they were keeping their mouths shut.

Xavier, sensing the deadlock and knowing he had to break it, leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he played his next card. “Look, I’m not just some guy wandering in off the street,” he said, his tone conspiratorial. “I’ve got something that could be worth your while. High-grade protocores. Rare, illegal, and powerful enough to charge just about anything—if you know what you’re doing.” It was a lie, of course. He had no such thing, but he was banking on the fact that the promise of something so valuable might loosen their lips.

The taller man’s eyes narrowed, his cigar still smoldering between his fingers. He glanced at his stocky companion, who gave a subtle nod, before turning his full attention back to Xavier. “Protocores, huh? Those are worth more than a few pairs of shoes, friend,” the taller man said slowly, his voice laced with skepticism. “Where exactly did you get your hands on something like that?”

Xavier didn’t hesitate. He knew he had to sell the lie convincingly. “Can't say,” he said casually, leaning back slightly, as if it were no big deal. “You don’t get this far in the city without knowing a few people. Let’s just say I have connections.”

Xavier looked at them, not breaking eye contact, praying he looked confident enough to seem truthful.

The two men exchanged another look, this one lingering just a bit longer. The doubt was still there, but now it was mixed with greed. If there was one thing people in places like this couldn’t resist, it was the allure of something rare and illegal—especially if it was valuable.

The stocky man finally broke the silence, his scowl softening slightly as he uncrossed his arms. “Alright, we’ll bite,” he said, his voice less hostile now. “You’ve got these protocores, and you want information. Fair enough. What exactly are you looking to know?”

Xavier kept his expression calm, but inside, he could feel the tension slowly starting to ease. He was getting somewhere. “I’m looking for a man who bought those high-end boots recently,” he said, nodding to the shoes on display. “You said no one like S shops here, but I think you know more than you’re letting on.”

The taller man’s eyes flickered again, and for the first time, Xavier saw the cracks forming in their stone-faced resistance. The man took a long drag on his cigar, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. “Two guys come in here fairly regularly,” he finally admitted, his voice low. “Both of them wear masks. Don't ask names, don't care to. They both bought the same pair of boots you're talking about.”

Xavier’s heart skipped a beat. “Two men?” he repeated, his mind racing. He had been certain that S was the one who took you, but now... two masked men? That changed everything. “You sure it was two?”

The stocky man nodded. “Yeah, two of ‘em. Paid in full, no questions asked. They didn’t stick around long. Didn’t want to be noticed.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “But they were a tad bit annoying. Seemed pretty close, cracking jokes and whatnot. One of them called the other "bigfoot". Got a laugh out of me".

Xavier’s mind spun with this new information. He had always assumed S was acting alone, but this revelation changed everything. If there were two of them, that meant he wasn’t just dealing with a single captor. Were these men working together to take you? And if so, what the hell were they planning?

“Anything else?” Xavier pressed, trying to hide the shock from his voice. “Did they say where they were headed? Anything at all?”

The taller man took another drag on his cigar, the smoke swirling in the dim light. “Didn’t say much. But they left in a hurry. Seemed like they had somewhere to be. Somewhere in the N109 Zone, from what I could gather. They didn’t strike me as the kind of guys who hang around too long.”

Xavier’s mind raced as he processed the information. Two men, both masked, buying the exact boots that matched the footprint seen in your apartment. This was bigger than he thought.

Xavier's pulse quickened as the conversation took an unexpected turn. He had to push this further. Keeping his voice steady, he asked, “Have you also seen a girl? Someone...matching this description?” He gave them a rundown of your features, his tone deliberately casual, though every fiber of his being was on high alert. The taller man's reaction was immediate and telling—his eyes widened ever so slightly.

“A girl?” the taller man echoed, his voice laced with curiosity. His gaze flickered to his companion before returning to Xavier.

Xavier nodded, fighting to keep his expression calm despite the tension building inside him. “Yeah. She would’ve come through here recently. Looks...rough.”

The man tapped his cigar against the ashtray, his brows furrowing in thought. “You know, now that you mention it…” He paused, his gaze sharpening as if recalling something. “I did see my bud, Reese, not too long ago before I came in. He was walking around with a girl that kinda looked like that. Thought it was strange, actually.”

Xavier’s heartbeat thudded in his chest, but he kept his face neutral. “Reese?”

“Yeah,” the taller man said with a smirk, taking another slow drag from his cigar. “She looked like shit, though. Like she’d been through hell. I was gonna ask him what was up, but I didn’t wanna get involved in whatever he’s got going on these days. Reese has been... keeping a low profile lately. Wonder what he’s up to now.”

Xavier’s mind raced and he felt like he just struck gold. Reese. Another name—another lead. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but there were still so many unanswered questions. Reese...was this the man you had mentioned over the phone that was with you? Either way, if this man had seen you with him, Xavier was one step closer to finding you.

His jaw tightened, the weight of urgency settling over him again. “Where can I find Reese?”

The taller man seemed to mull it over for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, with a sigh, he stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray, the smoke curling lazily into the air as he leaned forward. “You want to know where to find Reese, huh? Well, you can find him over on the east side of the city,” he said, his voice low and casual. “But don’t get your hopes up. He’s never in one place for long. Always on the move. Kinda quiet too, y’know?”

He rattled off a series of directions and a description of a house, pointing out a few places where Reese was known to frequent, though there was no guarantee he’d be there when Xavier arrived. It was a lead, though—a real one. Xavier nodded, his mind already turning over the possibilities.

Just as he was about to thank them and leave, the smaller man, who had been quiet for a while, suddenly piped up. “Alright, enough talking,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Where are these protocores you were bragging about?”

Xavier could feel the tension in the room spike instantly. He had known this moment would come, and he had been prepared for it, but now that they were pressing him, the lie felt razor-thin. He could see the smaller man’s patience wearing thin, and the taller one watching him with quiet intensity.

Xavier's grin didn’t falter as he lied, but he could feel the weight of their growing suspicion thickening the air. “I’ll be back with the protocores,” he said, his voice smooth. “Just need to track down Reese first. After I get what I need, we can make the trade.”

The taller man’s expression darkened, the faint amusement fading from his face. His eyes darted to the smaller man, who had already started to reach for something beneath the counter. Xavier felt his muscles tense, every instinct screaming that things were about to go south.

“Yeah?” the smaller man sneered, his voice sharp. “You think we’re that stupid? You expect us to believe you’re just gonna walk out and come back with illegal protocores for a couple of thugs like us?”

Before Xavier could respond, the smaller man whipped out a gun from behind the counter, followed almost instantly by the taller man drawing his own firearm.

“Don’t think so, pal,” the taller man growled. “You’re not going anywhere without giving us what you promised.”

In that split second, Xavier’s mind went cold and focused, his body moving on pure reflex. He wasn’t going to wait for them to make the first move. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, pulling it free in a smooth motion just as the first shot rang out.

The bullet whizzed past his head, grazing the air where he’d just been standing. Xavier moved like lightning, his blade slicing through the space between him and the men as he spun out of the line of fire. The sword was an extension of his body, deflecting the second shot with a sharp clang as metal met metal.

The store was small, too cramped for a proper firefight, and that was the only advantage he had. He darted between the shelves, using the displays as cover as more bullets flew past him, shattering glass and sending shoes tumbling to the floor. His feet moved quickly, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, pushing him to act faster, think sharper.

“Get him!” the smaller man shouted, his voice thick with rage, but Xavier was already in motion, anticipating their next move.

With a swift slash, Xavier knocked the gun from the smaller man’s hand, sending it skittering across the floor. The taller man fired again, the flash of the muzzle lighting up the store in bursts, but Xavier was quick, his sword a blur as he deflected another shot, closing the distance between them.

There was no time to think—only to act. He couldn’t risk staying any longer. The exit was in sight, and Xavier knew he had to make a break for it.

As Xavier faced down the two armed men, his instincts kicked into overdrive. He wasn’t just fast—he had something else up his sleeve. Something that had saved him more times than he could count.

His Evol.

In the split second after the taller man raised his gun to fire again, Xavier made a decision. He’d have to use it. His fingers tightened on the end of his sword, but deep inside, he reached for the light, feeling the familiar surge of energy that came with it. The taller man aimed, ready to fire, but Xavier didn’t give him the chance.

With a flicker of thought, a blinding flash erupted from Xavier’s body, the entire store flooding with a searing white light. It was like staring into the heart of a star—overwhelming and inescapable.

Both men shouted in surprise, their hands flying to shield their eyes, but it was too late. The light had already done its job. They staggered, momentarily blinded, their arms swinging wildly as they tried to find him in the confusion.

“Wha—what the hell is this?!” the smaller man yelled, his voice frantic as he stumbled backward, clattering to the floor in agony. The taller man cursed under his breath, blinking furiously, but all he could see was the brilliant afterglow burned into his retinas.

Xavier didn’t waste a second. With the men disoriented and helpless, he made his move. His sword glinted in the light as he slashed out, knocking the gun from the taller man’s grip before spinning toward the door. The sound of their shouts barely registered over the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

The door loomed ahead, and with one final burst of speed, Xavier pushed through it, escaping into the night. The cool air hit his face like a slap, the sudden contrast from the heat of the fight inside momentarily grounding him.

Behind him, the men were still shouting, stumbling around blindly, their voices growing fainter as he sprinted down the street. He didn’t look back. The light was already beginning to fade, but it had bought him the time he needed.

Xavier’s feet pounded against the pavement as he ran, the city’s crumbling streets blurring around him. The shouting from inside the store had stopped, but he knew they wouldn’t just let him go that easily. They’d recover, and when they did, they’d be looking for him.

He turned sharply down an alleyway, his breath ragged in his throat, his mind already turning to his next move. Reese was out there—on the east side of town—and now, with the information he had, he was closer than ever to finding you.

Xavier’s feet pounded against the pavement, but with every step, a bone-deep exhaustion gnawed at him. The burst of energy he had unleashed through his Evol had taken its toll—draining what little strength he had left. His body ached, muscles protesting with every movement. He tried to push through it, to keep running, but it was as if his legs were filled with lead. His vision blurred at the edges, his head spinning. The lack of sleep was catching up with him fast.

He stumbled over a crack in the pavement, his feet dragging beneath him as the world around him spun. His breath came in ragged bursts, and the streetlights seemed to blur, their light flickering in and out of focus. A sharp, relentless ache had settled into his bones, and his vision dimmed as a wave of dizziness overtook him.

He fought it, clenching his fists, trying to force himself to keep going. But then a deeper voice inside cut through the haze. You can’t find her if you’re dead on your feet.

His steps slowed, and he blinked hard, fighting the swirling darkness closing in at the edges of his vision. He needed rest—just for a little while. His body wasn’t made for Earth’s atmosphere, not for this endless strain. His Evol had drained what little energy he had left, and he couldn’t keep pushing through it. Not like this.

"Just for a little bit," Xavier muttered to himself, staggering toward a shadowy alleyway. His eyes caught on an old, abandoned house at the far end of the block. The building was crumbling, its windows shattered and the door barely hanging on its hinges, but it offered some semblance of shelter. It was better than nothing.

I can’t find her if I’m exhausted, he reasoned with himself, though guilt already clawed at him. Every second he rested felt like time slipping away—time you didn’t have. But he knew if he kept going like this, he’d be no good to you when he did find you. He’d collapse somewhere on the side of the road, useless and beaten by exhaustion. He couldn’t let that happen.

Xavier staggered toward the house, the world tilting around him as he shoved the door open. The hinges groaned in protest, but he ignored the noise, stumbling inside. Dust swirled through the air, and the floorboards creaked beneath his boots, but he was already beyond caring. The interior was dark, musty, but a worn, sagging couch caught his eye in the dim light.

He dropped onto it without a second thought, his entire body aching with relief as he sank into the old fabric. The sword strapped across his chest rested heavily against him, but even the weight of the weapon couldn’t keep him awake. His limbs felt like lead, and despite the pounding in his mind telling him to get up, to keep moving, sleep pulled at him relentlessly.

His last coherent thought was of you—somewhere out there, waiting for him. Just for a little bit, he told himself again, his eyelids fluttering shut. Then I’ll find you.

Sleep came hard and fast, dragging him down into the deep, dreamless void.

When Xavier finally woke, he bolted upright, his heart hammering in his chest. His mind raced, scrambling to make sense of where he was, his breath coming in short gasps. For a moment, he stared at the cracked walls of the abandoned house, confusion gripping him. Then it hit him—he had fallen asleep. He didn’t know how long he had been out, but his body felt sluggish and stiff, like too much time had passed.

His heart hammered harder in his chest as his hand instinctively reached for his pocket, fumbling for his phone. His fingers trembled as he pulled it out and flipped it open, the cold glow of the screen casting a harsh light on his face.

His eyes locked onto the almost dead battery and then the date.

Three days.

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as the realization hit him like a gut punch. He blinked, staring at the screen, hoping—praying—that he was reading it wrong. But no. Three full days had passed.

"Three days…" The words felt foreign, like they didn’t belong to him, as if acknowledging them made the situation real. Three days of nothing. Three days of lost time. His stupid body had failed him once again.

He cursed under his breath, his frustration boiling over into something sharper, hotter. How had he let this happen? He had only meant to rest for a few hours—just enough to clear the exhaustion from his system—but his body had betrayed him. Now, three precious days were gone. Three days that you had been out there, alone. Three days that he should have been looking for you.

His grip tightened around the phone as the guilt gnawed at him. I was supposed to protect you, he thought bitterly. I was supposed to be there for you, and I’ve wasted three days doing nothing.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, his jaw clenched tight. There was no time to sit around hating himself for it—he couldn’t afford that. Not anymore. His muscles were stiff from sleep, his joints aching, but he ignored it, pushing through the discomfort as he stood and grabbed his sword. The familiar weight of the weapon on his back grounded him, pulling his mind back into focus.

Reese. East side of town.

He had to find Reese. That was the only lead he had left. The man from the shoe store had given him directions, and even though it felt like a lifetime ago, they replayed in his mind, clear and sharp.

Xavier’s heart raced as he rushed out of the house, the cold night air slapping him awake. His body still ached from the strain of the last few days, but the fear of how much time he had lost was stronger, driving him forward. He couldn’t lose you, not now, not after everything. He couldn’t let three days of inaction be the difference between finding you and losing you forever.

With renewed urgency, Xavier broke into a sprint, following the path the man had given him toward the east side of town. His mind was clear now, the haze of exhaustion burned away by the crushing weight of time. Two days had passed, but he wasn’t going to waste another second.

Xavier’s legs felt like they had been running for hours, but he finally saw it. The house. It was run-down, like everything else in this part of town—its windows cracked, the walls stained with time and neglect. But his gut screamed that this was the place. Something about it pulled him forward, despite the fear gnawing at the back of his mind. He had come too far to stop now.

With anticipation and shaky breaths, Xavier gripped his sword tighter, steeling himself. He approached the front door cautiously, every instinct on high alert. This is it. She has to be here. You had said Reese was taking you to this place, and now here it was, right in front of him.

He rushed in, his sword drawn and ready to fight, his breath catching in his throat. His heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline surging through him as he scanned the interior. But as his eyes darted around the room, confusion began to set in. The house was... empty.

Xavier stood frozen for a moment, his chest tightening with disbelief. No, this can’t be right. He moved deeper into the house, his footsteps echoing off the rotting wood. The place looked abandoned—empty, save for a few bags scattered around the floor. He kicked one lightly, its contents spilling out—a white, powdery substance that made Xavier’s stomach churn.

Reese had a problem, that much was clear. But where was he? And more importantly, where were you?

Xavier’s mind raced as he searched the house, pushing open doors and turning over furniture, trying to make sense of the chaos. Panic clawed at him as the rooms yielded nothing but more bags and filth. You were supposed to be here. You had said Reese was taking you to his place. But now, it felt like you had disappeared into thin air.

He cursed under his breath, his pulse quickening as his frustration built. That was when he noticed it—off to the side, barely visible in the dim light of the house. A metal hatch in the floor, wide open, its rusted hinges silently beckoning him down.

Xavier froze for a second, his instincts screaming that this wasn’t going to be good. He gripped his sword tighter, the cold steel grounding him as he stepped toward the hatch. No sound came from below—just a heavy, oppressive silence. He steeled himself and descended, each creak of the stairs adding to the weight pressing on his chest.

As his boots hit the basement floor, the smell hit him first. The sharp, metallic scent of blood filled the air, thick and suffocating. The dim light barely illuminated the scene before him, but as his eyes adjusted, Xavier’s stomach lurched. There, lying in the center of the floor, was a mangled body, a gunshot wound to the head, its face twisted in a frozen mask of fear and pain. Dried blood and brain matter splattered the walls around him—too much to belong to just one person.

Xavier’s heart raced, a wave of nausea crashing over him. For a moment, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. Was this you? The thought seized his chest in a vice grip, panic surging through his veins. He took a step forward, the dim light playing tricks on his eyes as he squinted, trying to make out the body on the floor. The tattered clothes, the lifeless form—it could be you. No, no, no...

His breath came in shallow gasps as he moved closer, the sword still held tightly in his hand as if ready to defend himself from whatever horror he might find. His eyes darted over the body, searching for any sign—any clue that would tell him it wasn’t you.

Then, finally, in the dim light, he saw it. The face. It wasn’t yours. Relief crashed over him in a wave so powerful it nearly knocked him off his feet. The body was that of a man, not a woman. His hair was matted with blood, his eyes wide in a permanent expression of terror.

Reese.

Xavier’s breath hitched. It had to be him. The man who had taken you. The man he was supposed to find. But now, Reese lay dead on the floor, his life ended by a brutal, cold execution. Xavier’s mind reeled, trying to make sense of it all. What had happened here? Who had done this?

He stepped back, his mind racing. If Reese is dead... where are you?

Xavier’s breath was shallow, his pulse pounding in his ears as he forced himself to keep moving. He stepped closer to the streaks of dried blood on the wall, his eyes narrowing as he noticed something horrifying beneath the splattered crimson. A pile of bones—broken, jagged—and organs lay in a twisted heap on the floor, half-hidden by the blood. His stomach churned, his mind racing.

This had been another person.

The gruesome scene was too much to process at once. Xavier’s hands began to tremble, his sword shaking in his grip as the terrible possibility hit him—was this you? He felt his chest tighten, his breath coming in quick, panicked bursts. His legs threatened to give out beneath him, the weight of the realization crushing his resolve.

His mind swirled in a storm of fear and doubt. He had come all this way, fought through exhaustion and danger to find you, and now he might be too late. He tried to steady himself, but the thought of what this pile of bones and flesh might mean twisted inside him like a blade.

A violent shiver ran through him. His resolve, the fierce determination that had kept him going, began to crack. He stared at the remains, his thoughts spiraling, his heart hammering in his chest. What if I was too late?

Then, breaking through the suffocating silence, a voice cut through the air behind him.

"Who are you?"

Xavier froze, his body instinctively tensing at the sound of the voice. The click of a gun followed, unmistakable and close. His blood ran cold, and he turned his head just enough to see her—a woman, standing in the doorway of the basement. She was dressed in casual business attire, her dark hair hanging around her face in sharp contrast to the blank, emotionless stare she wore. The gun in her hand was aimed squarely at him, her finger hovering over the trigger with terrifying calm.

His mind raced. He couldn’t let himself hesitate.

Before she could react, Xavier moved. With a burst of speed fueled by raw instinct, he spun around and drew his sword, faster than a blink of an eye. The blade flashed in the dim light, and before the woman could so much as blink, the gun flew from her hand, clattering to the ground.

In a breathless second, Xavier had her pinned against the wall, his sword’s razor-sharp tip pressed against her neck. His eyes, once filled with fear, were now burning with intensity. The blade hovered just millimeters from her throat, the cold steel biting against her skin.

“Who am I?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s not the question you should be asking.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change. She didn’t flinch, didn’t panic. She just stared back at him with the same unnerving calm, her dark eyes boring into his. For a moment, the two of them stood frozen in a tense standoff, the blade at her throat the only thing keeping her from making another move.

Xavier’s heart hammered in his chest, adrenaline still flooding his system. He had questions, too—too many to count—but first, he needed answers.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp, his grip on the sword steady. “Where is the girl?”

The woman’s gaze didn’t waver. “The girl?” she repeated, her voice eerily even. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” Her lips barely moved as she spoke, but there was something cold in her tone—something that sent a chill down Xavier’s spine.

He pressed the sword closer, the tip digging into her skin just enough to make his point clear. “Don’t play games with me,” he snarled, his patience fraying. “I know she was with Reese. Where is she?”

The woman’s eyes flickered, but her expression remained unreadable. “Reese is clearly dead,” she said calmly, glancing at the mangled body behind Xavier. “And if you don’t let me go, you will be too.”

Xavier’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, his mind racing. The pile of bones and blood on the floor was searing in his memory, and the chilling possibility that you might have been one of Reese’s victims still hung over him like a dark cloud. But this woman—she was too calm. Too controlled. And she knew something.

“Start talking,” he growled, his blade still steady. “Or I make sure you never leave this basement.”

The woman’s cold laughter echoed through the basement, sending a shiver down Xavier’s spine. There was something deeply unsettling about the way she stared at him—no fear, no hesitation, just cold, calculating amusement.

“It’s a shame… she turned out to be a match too,” she said, her voice laced with icy detachment.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed, confusion and fury battling in his chest. A match? What the hell did she mean by that? His grip on the sword tightened, the blade hovering just inches from her throat. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice taut with barely restrained anger.

But the woman just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Her lips twisted into a faint smirk, the silence hanging between them like a lead weight.

Xavier’s patience snapped.

Without warning, he twisted her to the ground, slamming her onto the cold, dirty floor. She gasped as the air rushed from her lungs, her body momentarily stunned. He planted his foot firmly on her back, pressing her down with just enough force to keep her pinned, the tip of his sword now poised against the back of her head. It was a position he never imagined he'd put anyone in, especially a woman, but this was no time for hesitation. Not with your life on the line.

The woman’s breath was ragged, but her laughter returned, cold and mocking. “You know…” she began, her voice strained but still dripping with amusement. “There’s only one person who could have done this.”

Her words hung in the air, sending a fresh wave of dread through Xavier. His pulse quickened as he leaned in closer, his heart thundering in his chest. "What are you talking about?" he growled. “Who did this?”

The woman let out another chilling laugh, her shoulders shaking under his boot. “Don’t you wanna know his name?” she teased, her voice dangerously soft. “I’ll tell ya… if you let me up.”

Xavier’s eyes flashed with fury, his foot pressing harder against her back, his sword trembling slightly with the intensity of his grip. He was on the edge, his mind racing with the implications of her words. He had never been one to harm someone without reason, and the idea of taking this any further made his stomach twist. But he needed answers, and this woman was toying with him, dangling the information in front of him like a lure.

He hesitated for a moment, his conscience warring with the urgency of the situation. This could be his only shot at getting the truth. He needed to know who was behind this—who had taken you, who had turned Reese’s basement into a slaughterhouse. And if she had the answer…

“Talk,” he growled, the point of his sword pressing into the back of her neck. “Or I swear you won’t get another chance.”

The woman’s laughter stopped abruptly, the silence thick and unsettling. She let out a slow, deliberate breath, as if considering her next words carefully.

"Alright," she whispered. "But you'll regret it when you know."

Xavier, despite every fiber of his being screaming against it, slowly removed his foot from the woman’s back, allowing her to get up. His sword remained poised, ready, as he took a cautious step back. She pushed herself up, her breath ragged, her once composed appearance now disheveled—her hair wild and her expression no longer quite as cold. But she still wore that smug look, as if everything was unfolding just the way she wanted.

She dusted herself off and motioned toward the floor, where a few black feathers lay scattered among the blood and debris. Xavier's eyes narrowed in confusion, but he moved toward them, curiosity driving him. Kneeling down, he picked up one of the feathers, twirling it between his fingers. The texture was unnervingly soft against the backdrop of violence and death surrounding them. He stared at it, his mind spinning as he tried to piece together the meaning behind it.

The woman’s voice cut through the silence, pulling his attention back to her. "I’m sure you’ve heard of him," she said, a dark smile creeping across her face. "There’s not a single soul in the N109 Zone that doesn’t fear him."

No. It cant be?

Xavier’s grip tightened on the feather, his body tensing. He could sense where this was heading, but he didn’t want to hear it. Not yet.

"It’s a shame," she continued, her voice dripping with false sympathy, "Reese just happened to pick up his woman I guess."

Xavier’s blood boiled at her words. His woman? The idea of you being claimed by anyone, let alone someone like the monster she was referring to, made his vision blur with rage. His teeth clenched as he fought to keep his composure, the tip of his sword glinting as he took a step toward her, eyes blazing.

“Talk,” he growled, barely containing the fury in his voice. “And spit out his name. Now.”

The woman’s smile widened, pleased to have drawn out such a reaction. She took a slow breath, savoring the tension between them before she spoke again.

"Sylus," she finally said, her voice soft but heavy with meaning. “Y'know...leader of Onychinus? Supposed ruler of this godforsaken place."

Xavier’s heart sank, his mind whirling with the name. Sylus. The moment she said it, everything clicked into place, the puzzle pieces falling together in his mind. It was a name that echoed across every shadowy corner of the city, whispered in fear by those who lived in the Zone and outside of it. Sylus was not just a criminal; he was a tyrant, a leader of a notorious syndicate that controlled much of the N109 Zone through fear, violence, and manipulation.

He remembered the briefings from work, detailing illegal protocore trafficking, unsolved murders, and corruption on a scale most people couldn’t even fathom. Sylus’s name had come up more than once, but he had always remained just out of reach—never enough evidence to bring him down, always too elusive for law enforcement to catch. And now...S. It had been in front of him all along.

Sylus.

Of course. The man who had taken you, the man who had orchestrated this entire nightmare, was none other than the most dangerous figure in the N109 Zone. But what did someone like him want with you?

Xavier’s breath came in short, sharp bursts as his mind raced. His sword shook slightly in his grip, the feather in his hand slipping to the ground as the weight of the realization hit him. Sylus had you. The leader of Onychinus, a man feared by all, had somehow claimed you, and now, everything made sense. The secrecy, the power, the violence—all of it pointed back to him.

The woman watched him carefully, a knowing glint in her eye as she saw the shift in his expression. "You see now, don’t you?" she murmured. "Reese didn’t stand a chance. Neither did she." Her voice took on a mocking tone as she spoke of you, as if your fate was already sealed.

Xavier’s anger flared. He had to find you—now. There was no more time for games or hesitation. Sylus had to be stopped, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way. Not anymore.

Xavier's grip on the sword tightened as he glared down at the woman. He wasn’t going to leave any loose ends this time. "You’re coming with me," he said, voice hard and unyielding. "You’re being booked in Linkon City Penitentiary. You're clearly not innocent in all this."

The woman’s expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle shift in her eyes—a flicker of something cold and calculating. She nodded slowly, seeming to comply, raising her hands slightly as if in surrender. Xavier lowered his sword, but kept it ready. He wasn’t taking any chances.

But before he could react, she reached up as though to fix her disheveled hair and, in one smooth motion, pulled a small pin from the messy strands. Her eyes flashed with intent as she flicked the pin to the floor.

It exploded in a quick burst of hissing gas.

Xavier barely had time to react before the room filled with a thick, stinging cloud. His throat seized, the acrid taste of the gas flooding his lungs as he coughed violently. His eyes burned, watering immediately as the toxic smoke enveloped him, blinding him completely. He tried to swing his sword, but his body betrayed him, each breath tearing through his chest like fire.

"Dammit..." Xavier choked, squeezing his eyes shut against the pervasive sting. The sound of hurried footsteps filled the room as the woman scrambled up the stairs in a desperate attempt to escape. He heard the hatch slam above him, the faint echoes of her retreating footsteps quickly disappearing into the night.

For a moment, Xavier stood hunched over, gasping for air, clutching his throat as he struggled to breathe. His muscles tensed, his mind reeling in frustration. I should chase her. I can’t let her get away.

But as the gas slowly began to dissipate, something in the corner of the basement caught his attention. Through the blurry haze of his vision, a small red light blinked steadily—tiny but unmistakable.

A camera.

Xavier froze, his mind racing as he staggered toward it, wiping his eyes to get a clearer look. The camera was mounted discreetly in the far corner of the room, aimed directly at the center of the basement floor—right where the mangled body of Reese lay. Its lens was still pointed at the grisly scene, and the red dot blinked steadily, as though it had been recording everything.

Xavier’s heart pounded as the implications hit him. Someone had been watching. Or at least recording. Someone had seen everything that had gone down in this basement—maybe even Sylus himself.

His first instinct was to smash it, to destroy the evidence, but another thought stopped him. This could be a lead. This might show me where they took her, or at the very least, give me more information about Sylus.

Xavier cursed under his breath, torn between the urge to chase the woman and the importance of the discovery before him. The camera could be the key to tracking down Sylus, but every second the woman stayed free, she became a greater threat. He weighed his options, his mind spinning with indecision.

But deep down, he knew the answer. He needed to know what was on that camera—no matter the cost. He wasn’t going to let this slip through his fingers.

Swallowing the bitter taste of frustration, Xavier moved toward the camera, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for it. He was going to find out what it had seen, and he was going to use it to track down Sylus and, more importantly, you.

Xavier’s fingers worked quickly, his heart pounding as he pried the small camera from its mount. His breath was still shallow from the lingering effects of the gas, but his focus was razor-sharp now. This camera—it had seen everything. It had captured the truth, maybe even the moment Reese had been killed, and possibly more.

He carefully ejected the tiny SIM card from the device, holding it in the palm of his hand. The small piece of plastic and metal was unassuming, almost fragile. But Xavier knew, in that moment, this was the key. This little card held answers—answers he had been chasing for days, through exhaustion, violence, and fear.

His hand closed around it, gripping it tightly, as if holding onto it was the only thing keeping him grounded. This was his way forward. The evidence, the proof—everything that could lead him to you and get you away from Sylus before he did something unthinkable to you.

"This…" he whispered, his voice low, filled with desperation. "This is it."

The weight of the situation pressed down on him, his mind spinning with possibilities. Maybe this small window of opportunity was all Xavier needed? Was this the answer?

His pulse quickened as the gravity of the moment sank in. He couldn’t waste any more time.

Clutching the SIM card, Xavier shoved it into his jacket pocket, securing it tightly. He glanced around the basement one last time, the gruesome scene of Reese’s body still etched into his mind, but the camera—the blinking red dot—was all he could focus on. Whoever had set this up knew more than they let on, and now he was one step closer to pulling it all apart.

He turned toward the stairs, every step a mixture of relief and dread. He had a lead, but he was running out of time. Sylus was out there, and so were you, caught in his web. Xavier’s mind was racing as he ascended the stairs and stepped out into the cold night air.

This SIM card, small and fragile as it was, was his best chance of finding you. He wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.

The sound of water echoed softly in the small, dimly lit bathroom as you stood under the spray, the warmth of it doing little to ease the cold that had settled deep within you. You stared down at the tiled floor, watching the water pool around your feet, washing away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Crying in the shower had become routine these past few days. The chain around your ankle clinked softly with every movement, its weight a constant reminder of the new reality you were trapped in.

Your fingers trembled as they moved through your wet hair, but you weren’t really here—not in this moment, not in this place. You were somewhere far away, in a life that felt impossibly distant now. A life where you were free, where you hadn’t been taken by Sylus, where your every step wasn’t shadowed by the cold bite of metal shackles.

You glanced down at the chain, watching as the water dripped from it, snaking down your leg in streams. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, the reality of your situation hit you over and over again. There was no escaping this. Sylus had made sure of that. He had bound you, not just physically, but mentally, emotionally—leaving no room for hope.

A shiver ran through you, though the water was still warm. You hugged your arms around yourself, trying to take some comfort in the heat, but all you could feel was the weight of the chain. It clinked with every shift of your body, its length enough to reach the shower, the toilet, the bed—everything within your small prison. Your world has shrunk to this, you thought bitterly, tracing the line of the chain with your eyes.

You had once thought of yourself as strong, capable. But now, standing here in this tiny, confining space, tethered to the will of a man who saw you as his lover, you felt anything but strong. Your mind wandered back to his words, the promise he had whispered in your ear before nestling next to you:

“Accept your place by my side, and have my baby.”

A sob choked your throat as the words echoed in your mind. The idea of being bound to him not just by the chain, but by a child—a piece of him inside you—made you feel like you were drowning. The water ran over your body, but it couldn’t wash away the fear or the disgust that festered inside of you. You had once given yourself to him willingly, drawn in by the promise of comfort, lust, the flowery words he spun so effortlessly. But now, you were reminded you were his prisoner.

You hated him. You hated yourself. The shame was like a living thing inside of you, coiling tighter with every second, every memory of the choices that had led you here. How had you fallen so far? How had you let yourself seek comfort from him, even for a moment?

But now, even as you stood here, shackled and trapped, there was something else—something you couldn’t shake. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there. A dark, twisted longing. A part of you, deep down, that still ached for something. Maybe it was safety, or maybe it was the comfort you had once felt in his presence just for awhile, before you were reminded who he really was. Whatever it was, it disgusted you, and you shoved it down again, refusing to acknowledge it. You couldn’t afford to.

The chain clinked again as you turned the water off, the sound grating in the quiet. You stepped out of the shower, your legs unsteady as you moved. The air felt colder now, biting at your wet skin as you wrapped a towel around yourself. The chain dragged along behind you as you moved to the mirror, fogged and hazy, much like your own mind. You wiped a small section clear with your hand and stared at your reflection.

The person staring back at you looked hollow, broken. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, your cheeks tear stained, your lips trembling as you tried to keep yourself together. You didn’t recognize this version of yourself—this fragile, scared girl bound by chains and trapped by the whims of a monster.

Your fingers brushed the cold metal around your ankle again, and you swallowed hard. You had to keep going, somehow. Even if escape felt impossible, even if every part of you screamed to give up, you couldn’t. Not yet. Not while there was still a flicker of hope, buried deep beneath the fear and despair.

You dressed slowly, your hands moving mechanically as you slipped on the dress Sylus had left for you. Sylus had specifically avoided giving you underwear, as it made it easier to touch you as he put it. The feel of fabric felt like a weight, dragging you down further into this nightmare, but you couldn’t stall forever. The chain around your ankle reminded you of that. Every movement was a struggle, a tug of war between your mind and body. You didn’t want to face him. Not again.

But eventually, there was no more time to waste. The tension in your chest tightened as you stepped out of the bathroom, the clinking of the chain the only sound in the quiet room.

Sylus was waiting for you, sitting casually in a chair near the window, a pair of sleek glasses perched on his nose as he scanned something on the tablet in his hands. He looked up when you entered, his eyes immediately locking onto you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. That same, infuriatingly confident smirk that sent a surge of loathing through you.

He lowered the tablet slightly, tilting his head as he took you in. “There you are,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You look beautiful, kitten.”

The compliment felt like a slap in the face, but you didn’t respond. You refused to. You clenched your jaw and stared straight ahead, keeping your distance, trying to make yourself feel as far away from him as possible despite the small confines of the room.

The silent treatment was all you had left, your last shred of defiance. You knew it probably wouldn’t faze him, but you couldn’t bear to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not after everything.

Sylus chuckled softly, clearly unfazed. In fact, your silence only seemed to amuse him. His smirk widened, his dark eyes gleaming with a playful, dangerous edge as he set the tablet down on the table beside him. He leaned back in the chair, his gaze never leaving yours, as though he was watching a game unfold exactly the way he wanted.

“Sweetie,” he purred, his voice low and teasing. “Have you decided to be mute today?” His eyes sparkled with that familiar arrogance, like he was enjoying every moment of your discomfort.

"Don't pretend you didn't hear me."

When you still didn't respond, he motioned to his lap, a casual flick of his fingers. “Come sit. Let’s not play this game all day.”

You stiffened, your heart pounding as you kept your eyes fixed on the floor. The thought of sitting on his lap, of being that close to him, made your stomach churn. But when had he ever cared about what you wanted? He was toying with you, seeing how long you would resist before you finally broke.

With your heart pounding in your chest and every muscle in your body screaming in protest, you moved slowly toward him. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of the chain around your ankle had spread to every fiber of your being. You hated this. You hated him. But you also knew resisting further would only prolong the inevitable. The game he was playing wasn’t one you could win, not today.

As you approached, Sylus’s smirk deepened, his eyes lighting up with that infuriating confidence. He leaned back slightly, arms resting casually on the armrests of his chair, as though inviting you into his space with nothing more than the subtle tilt of his body.

Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto his lap, your body stiff and unwilling, every part of you recoiling even as you complied. The moment you settled, his arms came around you, enveloping you with a possessive ease, as though this was where you belonged. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, a stark contrast to the cold reality of the chain that still bound you. You tried to sit as far from his groin as possible, but his grip tightened, pulling you closer, forcing you into his embrace.

Sylus’s smirk deepened, sensing your hesitation. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “What’s the matter? You’re usually so talkative,” he teased, his fingers brushing against his jaw as he watched you intently. “Or is this your new way of getting my attention? Hmm?”

He was baiting you, and you knew it. Every word out of his mouth was designed to make you react, to break through the wall of silence you were so desperately trying to maintain. He thrived on your defiance, and the more you pulled away, the more determined he became.

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as you fought back the urge to lash out. Stay silent, you told yourself. Don’t give him what he wants.

But the room felt smaller with every second, the tension between you building with no escape. You kept your eyes fixed on a point across the room, refusing to look at him, to acknowledge the smugness in his gaze. But as much as you tried to focus on anything other than him, you couldn’t ignore the scent that clung to him. It was subtle, warm, and undeniably intoxicating—a mix of something clean and rich, like cedar and spice. It filled your senses, making your head swim for a moment before you forced yourself to snap back to reality.

"Which one of these spots," he whispered, his voice taking on a dark, playful edge, "will make this kitten mewl?"

Your breath hitched, every nerve in your body on high alert, and yet you willed yourself to stay silent, to remain still despite the overwhelming sensation of his touch. The way he said it—kitten—the pet name twisted into something playful, like he was subtly teasing a stubborn cat.

Sylus's lips brushed against your neck, soft and deliberate, sending another shiver through you that you couldn’t quite suppress. You hated the way your body reacted, even though it wasn’t out of desire, but out of an instinctive fear that coursed through your veins. His mouth lingered, warm and maddeningly slow, as if savoring the moment. You could feel his smirk growing with each kiss, knowing he was testing you, pushing to see where your defenses would crumble.

He trailed his lips down the curve of your neck, pressing soft kisses into your skin, searching. His breath was hot against your flesh, each exhale making your heart race, and your hands clenched tighter in your lap, nails digging deep into your palms. Sylus moved with such infuriating patience, his kisses slow and calculated, as though he were mapping out your every vulnerability.

“Here?,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. His lips hovered at the hollow of your throat, sending a jolt of fear through you. "Or maybe here?"

You fought to hold back the instinctive shudder that threatened to betray you, forcing yourself to stay still, to remain silent. But Sylus was relentless, his lips finding the most delicate parts of your neck, his hands lightly brushing your back as he pulled you closer into his embrace. The warmth of him was suffocating, his scent overwhelming your senses as you tried desperately to keep your thoughts from spiraling.

He pressed a kiss in the nape of your neck, lingering for a moment as though testing the spot. You shiver, letting out a small whine at the ticklish sensation as it scattered through your body, your stomach tightening. You could feel his satisfaction in the way he shifted, his lips curving slightly against your skin. His fingers brushed through your hair, his touch deceptively gentle as he whispered, “There it is.”

You try and get out of his lap but his hold on you is firm and tight, per usual. Heat crosses your face and you feel as though the room just got ten degrees hotter.

"Don't be shy, purr for me" he commands gently, beginning to press more gentle kisses in the same sensitive spot. You tense and whine with each kiss, jolts of pleasure tingling through your body, and eventually your core heats up, a wave of shame crashing over you.

His lips trailed lower, teeth grazing your shoulder blade as he continued his sensual assault. Each nip and lick sent sparks of electricity coursing through your veins, pooling heat low in your belly. You squirmed in his lap, torn between the urge to flee from the overwhelming sensations and the traitorous desire to arch into his touch.

"Please…" you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for anymore. Mercy or more, you couldn't tell. Your mind was hazy, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Please what, kitten?" His hand slid under your shirt, fingertips skimming the curve of your breast before dipping lower, teasing along the waistband of your pants. You shuddered, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste flooded your mouth but you barely noticed, too focused on the ache building between your thighs. You felt the sudden hardening of his groin, causing you to gasp.

"Stop," you gasped out, twisting in his grip. "Please, I can't take anymore." Your voice was ragged, barely above a whisper. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, born of overwhelming sensation and a confusing mix of fear and longing. You were scared. Scared to let him in again. To let lust control you and lose yourself to him.

"I'll talk to you Sylus, just stop..." you whine.

For a moment, he didn't move, his hands still roaming your body with maddening slowness, likely deciding if he was going to concede. Then, with a soft chuckle, he released you and leaned back. "Very well," he murmured, his tone unreadable.

"We'll continue this another time."

You scrambled off his lap, nearly tripping in your desperate attempt to put distance between yourself and the man whose touch felt like poison. Your legs trembled beneath you, weak from the fear and the unbearable tension that had filled the room. One hand flew to your neck, instinctively covering the places his lips had touched, while the other pressed to your flushed cheek. Your breath came in shallow bursts as you backed away, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

You knew what you’d see if you did. Amusement—at your weakness, at how easily he could unravel you with nothing more than a few soft kisses. Or maybe frustration that you had interrupted his game by pulling away. And worse yet, a possibility you couldn’t even stomach: genuine affection, a twisted form of care that he believed he had for you.

But when you finally glanced at him, all you saw was a small, knowing smile.

Sylus sat there, relaxed, his fingers tapping lightly on his tablet as he readjusted his glasses. It was as if the entire exchange had been nothing but a passing moment of amusement for him, something routine to him.

Just like that, the little game was over.

He had won.

But the worst part wasn’t his victory. It was the way your body still trembled, the way your skin still burned from where his lips had been. The way you felt so utterly powerless against him.

You turned your back to him, heart heavy with shame, knowing that no matter how much distance you put between you, Sylus had already made his point. He controlled the game. And as much as you hated it, as much as it made your chest tighten in anger and despair—you couldn’t deny that this time, he had broken through your defenses.

He always did.

You stood there, shaking with a volatile mix of anger and shame, your back to Sylus as you tried to steady your breathing. The feeling of his touch still clung to your skin, like a sickening residue that wouldn’t wash away. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms, as if the physical pain might be enough to distract from the storm raging inside of you.

Just as your thoughts began to spiral, the sharp sound of a knock echoed through the room. You flinched, startled, your heart pounding in your chest. Sylus didn’t react to you, didn’t even look your way. He simply set his tablet down, a small sigh escaping his lips as if the knock had interrupted something far less important than whatever little game he had been playing with you moments before.

He stood up and crossed the room with an easy, unbothered grace, leaving you feeling like a ghost in the background, insignificant in his world. When he reached the door, he opened it just a crack, his tall frame blocking your view of whoever was on the other side.

“Luke,” Sylus greeted, his voice carrying a tone of mild interest. “What is it?”

Luke’s voice, muffled by the door but unmistakably familiar, spoke up. "Kovi's asking to "play cards" again. "Says he misses his dear friend. Told me to let you know"

You saw Sylus tilt his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. A small chuckle escaped him as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. "Ah, Kovi," he mused, a faint smirk pulling at his lips. "Always eager to strike a deal, I see"

Your heart sank at the casual nature of their conversation. It was like the cruel game Sylus had just played with you didn’t even matter, as though it were just another fleeting moment in his day. You felt a sharp pang in your chest, anger bubbling up again at how easily he could move on while you were left reeling.

“Tell Kovi I'll join him shortly,” Sylus said, still grinning. “I could use a game or two”.

"You got it, boss man!"

With that, Luke disappeared down the hall, and Sylus closed the door, his expression shifting back to its usual controlled calm. He turned toward you, that same smugness still lingering in his eyes as though nothing had changed.

As Sylus crossed the room, your heart lurched with unease. His entire demeanor had been so casual, so indifferent just moments before as he spoke with Luke about Kovi. You’d almost convinced yourself he was done with his game, ready to move on to the next part of his twisted day. But now, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you freeze.

He stopped right in front of you, his gaze lingering for a moment, dark and unreadable. Before you could process what was happening, his hands gently cupped your face, pulling you toward him. His lips pressed against yours, soft at first, but then with a passion that made your heart pound in confusion.

This wasn’t like the teasing, mocking kisses from earlier. This kiss had weight, as if he were pouring something unspoken into it—something deeper, something more dangerous. The way he kissed you wasn’t calculated, wasn’t part of the game he always played. It felt… real.

Your mind raced, unable to comprehend the shift in him. Moments ago, he had been cool, detached, amused by your silence and defiance. But now, his lips moved against yours with an urgency, a need that you didn’t understand. It was like this was the last time he would ever see you—like this kiss was a goodbye, even though you knew you were still trapped in his world.

You didn’t kiss him back, but you also didn’t pull away. You were frozen in place, your body betraying your instincts as the conflicting emotions tangled inside you. Fear. Anger. And now, confusion.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes remained locked on yours, a lingering intensity in them that unsettled you even more. His thumb brushed softly across your cheek, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like there was something else there—something almost vulnerable. But it was gone before you could grasp it.

"You've got more power than you think, kitten" he murmured, his voice softer than usual, almost affectionate. But there was an edge to it, something unreadable lurking just beneath the surface. “Don’t forget that.”

You blinked, unsure of how to respond. His words hung heavy in the air, making your pulse quicken with a mixture of fear and confusion. You couldn’t tell if he was complimenting you, warning you, or trying to manipulate you further. The shift in his demeanor left you off balance, unsure of what game he was playing this time.

Power? The word seemed like a cruel joke given how powerless you felt in this moment—shackled to the chain, trapped under his control, constantly fighting to keep your head above water while he pulled the strings. Yet, there was a strange certainty in the way he said it, as though he believed it more than you ever could. As though he knew something you didn’t.

Your breath hitched, the weight of his gaze almost unbearable. His hand lingered for a second longer on your cheek, and despite the fear that still gripped you, you couldn’t help but feel the tension, the push and pull between his control and whatever it was he saw in you.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, not in that moment. Not with the confusion clouding your thoughts, your emotions already tangled in knots from everything that had happened. You searched his face, hoping to find some clarity, but all you saw was that same unreadable expression, his eyes watching you closely, waiting.

And then, as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. Sylus let his hand drop, his smirk returning, the walls coming back up around him.

"Behave," he added with a grin, before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you standing there, shaken and confused.

His words lingered long after he was gone, leaving you to wonder—what had he meant?

You spent the hours after Sylus left in a haze of frustration and boredom, your mind spiraling as you tried to find something—anything—to distract yourself. The chain around your ankle clinked softly with every movement, a constant reminder of your confinement. There wasn’t much to do, and the walls of the room felt like they were closing in, making the silence unbearable.

You found yourself counting the links of the chain, running your fingers over the cold metal again and again, trying to memorize the texture, the length. Rolling around on the hard floor, feeling the chill seep into your skin, you tried to stave off the madness creeping into your thoughts. The same four walls, the same chain, the same agonizing routine.

A knock on the door broke the monotony, pulling you from your thoughts.

Sylus?? Wait no. He wouldn't knock on his own door.

The chef—another of Sylus’s loyal employees—slid your dinner through the small opening in the door, the one Sylus had installed specifically for you. No more shared meals in the living room, no more pretending you were anything but his prisoner. Now, even meals came through a slit in the door, like you were a caged animal.

You stared at the plate, untouched for longer than you’d care to admit. Eventually, you ate without tasting, simply going through the motions. The room felt colder than usual, the silence more oppressive.

After what felt like an eternity, your body finally gave in to exhaustion. You curled up on the bed, feeling the weight of your situation pressing down on you like a physical burden. Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was fitful, filled with shadows and the echo of Sylus’s words: “You’ve got more power than you think.”

You woke to the sound of the door unlocking.

Your body stirred slowly, still groggy from sleep, and for a moment, you weren’t sure where you were. But the clink of the chain brought you back to reality in an instant. You opened your eyes slightly, blinking as the dim light of the room settled into your vision, and there he was—Sylus.

He stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him. He was loosening his tie, the fabric slipping through his fingers in an almost absentminded way. His usually sharp and controlled appearance seemed…off. His movements weren’t as fluid, his steps a little less precise. He tilted his head slightly, catching himself on the back of a chair with a small, humorless chuckle.

You froze, watching him closely. Something was different. He didn’t have the same air of calm authority he usually wore like armor. His hair was slightly mussed, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. You studied him for a moment, heart pounding as the realization hit you.

Is he drunk?

Sylus turned his head toward you, a slow, almost lazy grin creeping across his face. His eyes, usually sharp and piercing, were glazed over, a softness in them that you’d never seen before.

“Kitten,” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher than usual. “Are you awake?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced your body to remain still, your breathing steady as if you were still deep in sleep. You couldn’t face him right now, not like this—not when he was drunk and unpredictable. Your eyes shut closed, and you tried to control the rising panic swelling inside you.

A soft chuckle escaped him, dripping with amusement, and you felt his presence closer, the faint warmth of his body invading the space around you. "You can’t fool me," he murmured, his breath ghosting against your skin. "I know what your breathing sounds like when you're sleeping sweetie."

The words sank into your mind like a sharp, twisting knife. He wasn’t wrong—Sylus had studied you, watched you so carefully that even something as intimate as your breathing while you slept wasn’t your own anymore. Your attempt at pretending was futile, and now, he was reveling in the fact that you couldn’t hide from him, not even for a moment.

You could feel his smirk without having to look. His fingers trailed lazily down your arm, drawing soft patterns on your skin, the touch deceptively gentle yet loaded with the dark weight of his control.

“I’ve spent so much time with you,” he continued, his tone almost affectionate, unnervingly gentle. “I know every little thing about you—every sigh, every breath, every flutter of those pretty little eyelids.”

Your breath hitched despite your best efforts to stay calm, and you cursed yourself for it. The small tremor in your body, the way your pulse quickened—he noticed it all. You could feel his satisfaction radiating from him, the knowledge of every part of you obvious.

Sylus leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dripping with dark affection. "I can’t stop thinking about you," he murmured. "Even when I’m surrounded by people, all I want is you, kitten. You’ve been on my mind all night. You're gonna get me killed being such a pretty distraction."

The knot in your chest tightened as you lay there, your body rigid beneath his touch. You wanted to push him away, to scream, to do anything that would break this hold he had over you. But even in his drunken state, he held all the power, and he knew it.

“Look at me sweetie,” Sylus murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “Let me see you."

His fingers moved to your hair, brushing it aside as his breath warmed the side of your face. You swallowed hard, knowing you had no choice but to acknowledge him now. Slowly, reluctantly, you opened your eyes, the room spinning slightly as his face came into view—so close, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement and...affection?"

“There she is,” he whispered, his voice laced with satisfaction. “My pretty little hunter."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as his words sank into you, wrapping around your chest like a vice. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, gleaming with an unsettling mix of affection and control, as though you were something precious to him— like you were the only light in his dark world.

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing it away from your face as he tilted his head slightly, studying you with that dangerous intensity. “You know, kitten,” he murmured, voice low and intimate, “when you called my name in that basement, I damn near went crazy. It keeps replaying over and over in my head."

"I wish I could bring Reese back to life. Just so I could kill him slower this time."

His lips were close to your ear again, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine despite the panic flooding your system. You tried to focus on anything but the feeling of him—his scent, his touch, the way his words dripped with possessiveness—but it was impossible to escape. He consumed the space around you, his control inescapable, even when he was stumbling through his drunken haze.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Sylus whispered, his lips barely grazing your ear now, sending cold dread through you.

“You make me feel weak, kitten. I hate it.”

He paused, letting his words sink in, his fingers still caressing your skin. The affection in his voice was dark, twisted, a perverse reflection of something deeper—something dangerous.

“And yet,” he continued, his voice soft, almost wistful, “I love it. You're the only one who can do this to me”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to react, to push him away, but Sylus noticed everything. He always did. He leaned back slightly, his crimson eyes scanning your face as trying to read your reaction. His smirk returned, but there was something almost gentle in his gaze now—a softness that felt more like a trap than tenderness.

"I wish you hadn't ran. But it was the only way to teach you how safe you are here. And now I have to punish you, honey."

Your stomach dropped, fear twisting through your gut like a vice. The words hung in the air, suffocating, as if the room itself had shrunk around you. The threat in his voice was subtle, but unmistakable. He wanted you to know what was coming, wanted you to feel the weight of it before he even made a move.

Punishment.

The word echoed in your mind, and the way he said it—like it was something inevitable, something you’d earned—made you sick. You had done everything you could to escape him, to break free, but here you were, back in his grip, about to suffer for the one moment of defiance you’d dared to show.

Sylus’s fingers trailed down your neck, his touch slow and deliberate, making your heart race with every second that passed. "Don't be scared," he whispered, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You just need to learn how good you have it here"

You wanted to scream, to break free of his hold, but the fear kept you rooted in place, unable to move, unable to fight back. You could feel the pull of his control tightening around you, the chains of his manipulation wrapping tighter with every breath.

"I'm sorry Sylus..."you whimper, beginning to shake under his touch. "Don't hurt me...please don't hurt me. Please..."

The words came out fragile, breaking with every breath. You hated that you had to say them, hated how vulnerable and powerless you sounded, but you couldn’t stop. The fear, the desperation—they were stronger than your pride.

Sylus’s hand stilled against your skin, his crimson eyes flickering with something unreadable. For a brief moment, a smile tugged at his lips—not the smug, taunting smirk he usually wore, but something softer, more twisted.

He leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your face as he murmured, "Kitten... do you really think I'm going to hurt you?"

Sylus’s fingers moved swiftly, his touch almost gentle as he undid the lock on your ankle chain. It was locked with a number pad. One where the code changed every single time it was unlocked according to him. The cold metal slid away, leaving a raw sensation where it had dug into your skin. You glanced down, your breath caught in your throat as you watched him remove the shackle.

For a split second, there was a flicker of hope—was he letting you go? But that thought vanished as quickly as it had come. This wasn’t freedom. Sylus wasn’t offering you an escape. You knew better.

Confusion flashed across your features, fear giving way to puzzlement. You remained silent, watching intently as he moved away from you to sit on the sofa in the center of the room. With deft movements, he unfastened his belt, eyes locked onto yours the entire time. Finally shrugging off his pants, his rigid cock sprang free, standing at attention.

"Come here kitten, take your punishment" he commanded, patting his muscular thigh invitingly. Tentatively, you rose to your feet, not feeling like you had much choice. The sound of the ankle chain rattling in the room as you nearly tripped over it. Your heart pounded in your chest, a confusing mix of trepidation and strange anticipation swirling inside you. Stopping before him, you gazed down at his handsome face, searching his eyes for answers.

He was just going to have sex with you? How is this any different than the other times?

"Wha-what do-what is this?" you ask, gazing down at his erect member. You feel your throat go dry as you watch it throb, evidence Sylus's excitement already leaking from the tip. Sylus tugs on the hem of your nightgown, casually ignoring your question.

"Strip. You know how this goes."

You certainly did know how things went, but this did seem a little weird. Still, you followed orders and slowly but shakily stripped your clothes off. Sylus watched with hungry eyes, clenching his fists as if restraining himself from pouncing on you. Whatever, you would just dissociate like all the other times. Not much of a punishment that way.

"I must ask...why the couch?" you ask, taking the last part of your sock off.

"The couch is better for riding me don't you think?"

You freeze, praying to god you didn't just hear him say what you thought. He wants you to...ride him? You shoot your head up, eyeing his cock with more fear than ever. It was already a struggle getting it in when laying down how the hell were you supposed to...?

"It..it wont fit like that. Sylus...ple-"

"Sit, kitten. I'm not asking."

Shit. This was happening whether you wanted it to or not. You weren't sure what mind game he was playing this time but it would be best not to anger him. Taking a shaky breath, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you and Sylus until you stood before him, your trembling body bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light. His heated gaze raked over your curves, sending tingles racing across your sensitive skin.

Sylus reached out, fingers curling around your wrists as he tugged you closer. Wordlessly, he guided you onto his lap, large hands settling on your waist to anchor you in place. Immediately, you could feel the scorching heat of his erection pressing insistently against your plush backside.

"I'll hold you so you can balance" he rumbled, the deep timbre of his voice sending delicious vibrations through you. "The rest is up to you, sweetie."

You swallow thickly, your throat going dry again as you steady your hands on his broad shoulders. He lifts you with steady hands to balance you over his erection. Tears start to form in your eyes as you feel the beginning of his head begin to split your entrance to welcome him. Sylus let out a quiet groan, grip tightening on your waist but did not move as promised.

Your heart raced as you sank down further, thighs parting to straddle his muscular legs. Sylus's thick shaft nestled between your slick folds, the bulbous head nudging urgently into your entrance. A strangled whimper escaped your parted lips at the intimate contact.

It certainly didn’t help that Sylus hadn’t “prepared” you like he usually did but you figure this was part of the punishment.

You sucked in a sharp hiss through clenched teeth, your inner walls straining to accommodate his substantial girth. Inch by excruciating inch, you sank down onto his thick length, a sheen of sweat breaking out across your brow from the effort.

Burning pain radiated through your core as Sylus stretched you wider than ever before. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and your thighs quivered with the strain of taking him so deep. But beneath the agony, a thrill of dark pleasure coiled hot and insistent in your belly.

"Shhh..." Sylus crooned, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tilting your head back so he could capture your mouth in a searing kiss. "I know it hurts, you can handle it"

“Fuck,” you whimper, hands pressing against his chest, “you- you’re so big.” You certainly weren't trying to compliment him. This new angle just sent a whole wave of sensations pain and pleasure through our body. As much as you hated it, as much as you did not want to be sinking yourself onto him, as much as you loathed that he was making you take control, you couldn't deny the ache coiling in your belly.

“So you’ve said,” Sylus smiles, his hand squeezing your ass. "Keep going sweetie, you're almost there.”

By the time you reached the hilt, you were panting harshly, fingernails digging into Sylus's shoulders for support. Your abused passage fluttered and clenched around him, struggling to adjust to the overwhelming fullness. Sylus let out a guttural groan, hips bucking up slightly to bury himself even deeper. You hissed, shooting him a glare in pain.

"I'm sorry, you just felt too good honey" he smirks, voice slightly breathless as you clench and unclench around him. "My turn to behave this time."

You ignore his joke and focus on making him cum so you can get off of him. Biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, you started to rock your hips, rising and falling atop Sylus's thick length in a clumsy, unpracticed rhythm. Pain still lanced through your core with every movement but beneath it, a coil of building pleasure began to unfurl low in your belly.

"Fuck," Sylus groaned gruffly, gripping your bouncing breasts roughly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. "I didn't think you could feel any better than you already did sweetie."

Blushing fiercely, you let out a choked moan, embarrassed by your own shameless motions. But Sylus's gravelly praise only spurred you on, hips undulating faster as you chased the rising tension threatening to consume you.

No. Don't lose to him again. Don't cum.

Sylus groans at the feeling of your skin slapping against his thighs with every bounce on his lap. The tip of his cock hits the sensitive spot deep inside of your cunt so deliciously that you’ve begun to drool, a choked moan escaping your mouth unwittingly.

The moan turns into a yelp when he spanks your ass, your body jolting forward. Sylus’s touches have grown rougher, his hands squeezing almost painfully at your flesh.

"I have to-hah-leave for awhile in a few days" Sylus groans, thoroughly enjoying the squeal you make when he grips your hips again.

"Tell me you'll miss me."

"I wont," you hiss, trying to drown out the sound of his voice with the sounds of your bodies slapping and sliding against each other.

Sylus growls and you feel like shrinking away when you see the glare on his face. He almost seems…desperate. Like he needs to hear you say it.

His hand shoots out, gripping your cheeks. You can feel your lips jut out into a pout and he’s leaning forward kissing you messily. You whine, forced to press yourself closer, tits squishing against his firm chest. Your hips slow and you find yourself fully sitting on his cock, gasping into his mouth at the feeling of being fully impaled, hard and fast.

"Is that so? Have you ever thought about the fact that we both of a piece of an Aether core inside us?" Sylus says, his words whispered against your lips.

"You..mgnh!...have one too?" you whispered, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady yourself against his throbbing member still sitting inside you. Sylus nods, seemingly enjoying the way you struggle against him. The tip of his cock was resting on a sensitive spot and you can feel the ache in your belly grow more and more as it kept pressing into it with each throb.

"Maybe...just maybe" he leans forward, breath hot against your ear. "We're two halves yet to be put together...even if your mind doesn't want me, your heart eventually will".

No. No, no, no. That would never happen.

"Never. That will never happen. All of me hates you. Soul included" you hiss, malice dripping from your voice despite the rising heat in your core. You jerk again as Sylus's member throbs, almost sending you over the edge. Shit, any longer and you would cum before him.

"I'm wounded, kitten" Sylus smirks, placing a kiss against your forehead. "Strangely enough, your body doesn't seem to hate me all that much."

You glare, almost ready to throw yourself off his lap at his words.

"You assh-"

You open your mouth to protest but he’s drowning your voice out with a kiss. He begins pounding up into you, sending electricity coursing through your body. He swallows every word that threatens to come out, his cock driving deeper and deeper until you’re crying out.

"Sylus!"

Gasping and mewling, you bucked wildly atop him, chasing the sweet oblivion that hovered just out of reach against your screaming mind. You didn't care anymore, the primal need to finish overclouding every ounce of sense. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, your velvety walls fluttering desperately around Sylus's pistoning length. You were so close, hovering on the knife's edge...

"Yes, yes! Harder!" you begged shamelessly, throwing your head back in abandon as Sylus pounded mercilessly into your sopping heat. The obscene wet sounds of your coupling filled the room, mixing with your cries of rapture.

"Much better..." Sylus whispers, slamming you harder onto his length, leaving your breathless and gasping for air. He's clearly near his own end, as his motions begins to falter and his hips buck into you. He could imagine it now…the ever growing curve of your belly, the swelling of your breasts, the way you’d carry the life he so desperately wanted to plant inside you.

"Fuck...I can't ever let you go..."

You sink your teeth into his shoulder, moaning.

“That’s it,” he coos, and the drag of his cock is too hard to ignore, your walls clenching around him tightly as though not wanting to let him go.

“Just have my baby,” he whispers against your ear, slight desperation clawing at his voice. "Just get pregnant already, I can't lose you again."

His voice has you shuddering in your lust driven state, face pressing against his neck as you cum around him. Sylus grits his teeth, the squelch of your cunt growing louder as your slick drips down his length, coating his balls.

You collapse, exhaustion overcoming you and you lean against his shoulder, panting and whining from overstimulation in his ear.

Sylus doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so sweet. The shudder of your body, the softness of your voice. It has him groaning loudly, his hands pulling you down, making sure your pussy is flush against the base of his cock as he cums deep inside your belly.

You can feel the warmth of his cum, the way his sticky release covers the insides of your pussy. But you're too tired to fight it. So you sit there, trying to catch your breathe as you feel his warm liquids spreading across your belly and coating your cervix.

Again. He had won again.

You turn to bury your face in Sylus's shoulder, sobs wracking your trembling body as the emotional storm finally broke. Murmuring soothing words, he gently lifted you into his arms and carried you over to the bed.

With surprising tenderness, Sylus laid you down on the soft mattress, carefully extracting his spent member from your abused folds. You whimpered at the loss, a shudder rippling through you as you anticipated the familiar weight of chains once more.

But instead of restraining you, Sylus wiped himself clean with his discarded shirt before crawling in beside you. Tentatively, he pulled your quivering form into his embrace, strong arms cocooning you in his warmth.

"You did so well, kitten," he praised softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your damp temple. "I actually quite enjoy having you on top of me".

Sniffling, you peered up at him through tear-clumped lashes, noting the rosy flush coloring his cheeks. It was then you remembered his inebriated state, the alcohol likely responsible for his gentleness and vulnerability tonight.

"Have you been drinking?" you asked quietly, biting your lip with your teeth. "You seem...off?"

Sylus hummed noncommittally, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your heart ache. "Don't worry about me, sweetie. Right now, I just want to focus on you."

You lay beside him, the bed feeling far too small for the space that should exist between you. Sylus’s body was warm against yours, his arm draped loosely around your waist as if you belonged there, as if the chain had never existed. The alcohol had clearly dulled his usual sharpness, and now, he seemed content just to be near you, his breath steady, his tone softer than you’d ever heard it before.

For a while, there was silence, save for the faint sound of his breathing, but then he began to speak, his voice low and unguarded.

“My pretty little hunter,” he murmured, his words slightly slurred with the weight of exhaustion and liquor. His hand moved absentmindedly, brushing against your skin as he continued. “Just one glance at you and I needed to have you near me. I haven't acted the same since”.

You swallowed hard, your body tense as you listened to him, unsure whether to believe the tenderness in his words or to fear them. This wasn’t the Sylus you were used to—the one who controlled every moment, every breath, with calculated precision. This was someone else. Someone softer, someone…vulnerable.

His fingers trailed lightly down your arm, the touch making you shiver as his voice dropped even lower, almost as if he were confessing a secret. “I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. There is not a line I wouldn't cross for you”.

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Love? The same man who kept you chained, who toyed with you, who controlled you—loved you?

Your heart raced, confusion swirling through you. How were you supposed to feel? His words, though spoken with such gentleness, felt like a trap. Could he really mean such words?

You turned your head slightly, your voice barely a whisper as you asked, “If you love me, then let me go.”

Sylus stiffened slightly, his hold on you tightening, and you felt the shift in him even before he answered. His lips were close to your ear as he murmured, “I can’t do that, honey.”

A pang of despair shot through you, your heart sinking at the confirmation of what you already knew. He wouldn’t let you go. Not now, not ever.

“Then you don’t love me,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your words.

For a moment, there was silence. You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and steady, but there was no response—no anger, no frustration. Just a low, quiet chuckle.

"So feisty," he whispered, his voice fading as his body relaxed against you. His grip loosened slightly, and within moments, you felt his breathing slow, deepening as he drifted into a drunken slumber.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your heart heavy with the weight of his words and the chains that still bound you—whether they were physical or not. Sylus had fallen asleep beside you, but you knew the nightmare was far from over.

You don’t know when you finally drifted off to sleep, but exhaustion had eventually won out, pulling you into a restless slumber beside Sylus. The warmth of his body, the weight of his arm draped over you, and the tangled mess of fear and confusion had blurred into a haze.

When you woke, the room was bathed in the soft light of the lamp on the nightstand and for a moment, you were disoriented—until you felt it. The absence of the chain.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You shifted slightly, peering down at your ankle, almost not daring to believe it. He forgot to chain you. The shackle that had become a part of your existence, a symbol of your captivity, wasn’t there. You swallowed hard, the realization sinking in further with each passing second.

But that wasn’t all. The door—the door to the bedroom—was open.

Your breath caught in your throat. Sylus had left it open, probably in his drunken state, and now you had a chance. A chance to escape.

Slowly, cautiously, you turned your head to look at him. He was still lying beside you, his breathing slow and steady, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. His face, usually so cold and unreadable, was softened in sleep, but you knew better than to trust it. He could wake at any moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the fear and hope warring inside you as you looked between him and the door. This was it. Your chance. But the danger still lingered. If he woke up before you reached the door… you didn’t want to think about what he would do.

You moved slowly, carefully slipping out from under his arm. Every inch of movement felt like a lifetime, each breath so shallow you were afraid even the smallest sound might wake him. Sylus’s arm slid off your waist, falling limp onto the mattress as you shifted out of his reach.

Your heart pounded as you sat up, holding your breath, waiting for any sign that he might stir. But the only sound was his steady breathing, deep and even. He was still asleep.

Your feet hit the cold floor, and a wave of adrenaline shot through you. You glanced back at him one last time, your heart racing as you studied his face—relaxed, but the usual sharpness of his features still there, even in slumber. The alcohol had clearly knocked him out, but you couldn’t be sure how deeply. Would he wake if you moved too fast?

Your eyes darted to the door. It was open—just a crack, but enough. Enough for you to slip through and make your escape.

You rose from the bed as silently as you could, your legs trembling slightly beneath you. You grabbed your discarded dress from the floor and quickly threw it over your head. One step. Then another. Your breath hitched as the floor creaked softly under your weight, but Sylus didn’t stir. Closer. You were so close. The door was right there, freedom within your grasp.

But just as you reached the threshold, just as you thought you might actually make it, a low voice pierced the silence.

"Going somewhere without me?"

Your blood froze in your veins. You turned your head slowly, dread creeping up your spine, and there he was—awake. Sylus’s crimson eyes gleamed in the dim light, his face unreadable but his voice heavy with cold amusement. His earlier softness had vanished, replaced with the icy, controlled demeanor you knew all too well.

He propped himself up on one elbow, watching you with a lazy, calculating gaze. "What were you planning, kitten?" he asked, his voice smooth but dangerous. "You failed, just as I expected."

Your throat tightened, words catching in your mouth as your pulse quickened. His calm, composed manner sent a fresh wave of terror through you. He wasn’t yelling, wasn’t even angry—just disappointed, and somehow, that was worse. His voice carried a weight that made it clear he had complete control, even now.

This was...a test?

Sylus rose from the bed with fluid, deliberate movements, each step toward you unnervingly calm. His eyes never left yours, and that cold smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he approached. "You didn’t really think you could get away, did you?"

Sylus’s fingers wrapped around your arm, his grip firm but not painful—yet. He held you there for a moment, letting the tension build, his eyes locked onto yours with a cold, dangerous gleam. Then, without breaking eye contact, he slowly bent down and picked up the ankle chain from the floor, his movements deliberate and precise.

The clink of the metal sent a shiver of dread through you, and your body stiffened as you realized what was coming next. You swallowed hard, but it did nothing to ease the rising panic in your chest. Sylus straightened, holding the chain in his hands, his jaw clenched tight, though his expression remained eerily calm.

“I can't say I'm surprised,” he muttered, his voice low and dripping with quiet anger now. He knelt down, wrapping the cold metal clasp around your ankle with a precision that felt almost practiced, almost routine. The clasp locked into place with a sharp click, then the other lock, and the sensation of it once again digging into your skin made your stomach twist.

“You should know better than anyone that I don't make such silly mistakes,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with an unmistakable edge. “And here I thought we were making a little progress...” His fingers brushed against your ankle briefly before he stood up, towering over you once more, the chain now a familiar weight keeping you tethered.

There was no mockery in his tone now—just simmering frustration, barely contained. His earlier drunken haze had worn off enough for him to regain some of his cold composure, but the fact that you had tried to escape had clearly struck a nerve.

Sylus let out a slow breath, his gaze dark and unwavering. “You know I can’t let this slide,” he murmured, his voice quiet but heavy with a dangerous calm. “I’m disappointed, sweetie.”

The chain clinked softly as you shifted, your throat tightening as his words settled over you like a suffocating weight. You had no more energy to fight, no more defiance to offer—not when his control had wrapped itself so tightly around you, leaving no room to breathe.

Sylus had dragged you back to the bed that night, his grip firm but his usual taunts absent. There was no smirk, no teasing remark—just cold, unsettling silence. He had pulled the chain around your ankle tight once more, making sure you were secure without a word. And then, without so much as a glance, he had moved across the room to sit at his desk, typing away at his laptop, shutting you out completely.

The sting of his indifference lingered long after you’d laid down, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of the chain around your ankle heavier than ever.

Days passed after that, and Sylus’s behavior only grew colder. He still woke up next to you, still kept you bound to his room, but something had changed. There was no warmth in his voice anymore, no possessive affection in his touch. His "good mornings" were flat, hollow, as though he was simply going through the motions. He didn’t even eat breakfast or dinner with you anymore. Instead, he would quietly leave the food for you and return to his laptop or disappear for hours at a time, leaving you alone.

He wasn't even asking you to strip. No teasingly touching your body while undressing you either. No mentions of wanting to have sex at all.

The cold indifference felt like a punishment, but not in the way you had grown used to. There was no anger, no violence—just distance. A distance that hurt more than you thought it could. For all the cruelty, all the manipulation, there had always been a twisted attention, a presence. But now, even that was gone.

You felt more isolated than ever. And he had mentioned leaving for awhile soon, which meant it would only get worse.

It was another of those nights. Sylus had been silent all evening, barely acknowledging you. He sat on his sofa, typing away on his laptop, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows on his face. You watched him from the bed, the tension growing unbearable.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his sudden shift. Was this just another game? A new way to break you? You couldn’t understand it, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

"Sylus," you called softly, hoping to get his attention. But he didn’t respond, his fingers moving methodically over the keys, as if he hadn’t heard you at all.

Frustration welled up inside you, but it was more than just frustration—it was a sense of fear, of rejection, something you couldn’t quite put into words. You hated how much it affected you, but the silence, the distance...it hurt?

"Sylus, I can’t sleep," you said, your voice small, almost hesitant.

He paused, his fingers stilling for a moment. You held your breath, waiting for him to turn to you, to respond the way he used to, with that twisted mixture of affection and dominance that had somehow become your world.

"Oh, now you want me?" you hoped he would respond, that stupid grin adorning his face.

But instead, he looked up briefly, his gaze cold and detached. "Count sheep," he said flatly, the words devoid of any emotion or warmth. Then, without another glance, he returned to his work.

The coldness of his reply hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t just the dismissal—it was the way he said it, as though you didn’t matter at all. He didn’t even look at you for more than a second before his attention shifted back to the glowing screen in front of him.

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut, the sudden emptiness in his words leaving a hollow ache in your chest. For all his cruelty, for all the ways he had manipulated and controlled you, there had always been something in his eyes when he looked at you—a possessive intensity, a twisted form of attention. Now, there was nothing. Just cold indifference.

You lay back down on the bed, your heart heavy, the weight of the chain pulling you deeper into the suffocating silence. You stared at the ceiling, unable to shake the feeling of abandonment that settled over you. The ache in your chest refused to go away, and despite everything, you found yourself missing the twisted affection he used to show.

Even that, you realized, had been a kind of comfort.

But now.. now, you weren’t even sure if you mattered to him at all.

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leafostuff · 3 months ago

Text

Messes in Distress [Ft. Weeekly Jihan and Zoa]

Tags: BFH, 'Besties'!Zoa&Jihan, No plot all horny, Threesome, Double thigh riding, Double boobjob, Blowjob, Dirty talk, Fingering, Surprise Creampie, Anal, Pussy licking/eating, Mutual orgasm. no beta we die like man

Author's Note: as my august release i have to say: this is the filthiest fic I have ever written, throughout the entire writing process (which only took me two days) I have constantly felt both horny for those two gorgeous girls, but also inspired to keep writing and not stopping at anything.

as its also quite apperant, this is my first ever threesome smut, which I had tons of fun to write, so I do hope you will enjoy reading this fic that I worked very hard on.

PS: yes this was the post that I quickly deleted and responded with "YALL SAW NOTHING", my hand slipped on the post note lol

================================================

This party never looked as colourful and vibrant as it is right now.

Or maybe its just the rave lights Jeonghoon, your best friend installed for his house party. After all of the finals you had to suffer this semester, a proper party is really what you needed, especially in such a big house like his which has more than enough space to party just in the backyard.

But back to what you were saying, there is so much for you to see from you view at the barstool chair. From the football players swimming inside, the cheerleaders eyeing them from the other edge of the pool, probably gossiping about the latest drama or whatnot, some frat boys drinking their 7th shot of the night while dancing to the DJ's (yeah your friend also hired a DJ for the party) music like there is no tommorow, and while some may look at this and call it anarchy, you find it quite enjoyable looking at it.

Then you see them

Two girls, one blondie, the other black haired, neither you have seen before (maybe you seen the blonde one in your 2 am walks back to your dorm, fetching groceries? Eh you don't really know), both of them wearing white tops that expose their bellies and denim blue jeans, both tailored to show their curves from head to toe.

They both look happy, eyes closed while both their bodies sensually move to the rhythm of the music. It's hard not to shift your focus to them, the way their bodies stand closer than usual while they look into each other ,how they lean their faces closer, engaging in a short kiss, or how-

Realize that the black haired girl caught your eyes, the blonde girl joins her, both smiling while their eyes wander downward.

you are a bit puzzled until you look down and realize; your pants now form a visible tent. You try to look away but its too late.

the two girls now exchange a look between each other before leaving the dance floor and heading toward you, their smiles are those of good girls, however you could feel their intentions are anything but.

Eventually they both stand in front of you, meanwhile

"You are Jeonghoon's friend, right?" The blonde asks, her voice softer than you thought.

"Uhhh...yeah? Why?"

"Great" the black haired girl joins the conversation. "We need a favor" she adds, her smile is even brighter than before.

"Sure" you answer, a bit confused "What favor you two need?"

They both grin widely before the blonde speaks again. "A BIG favour..." You could feel her fingers travel upward across your left thigh.

Meanwhile her friend leans her face to your right ear while her fingers mimic her friend's movement but on your right thigh and then her hand finds itself on your currently hard clothed member.

"A favour...only YOU can help us with..." She whispers in your ear.

Take a look at the two girls again, they are even prettier from close as each feature that you saw back then is now presented to you at high definition. From their silky and smooth hair, eyes that look like trouble but you are still in place as if you are frozen and their chests that look a size bigger than what you thought they were.

Their smiles which you could swear you could see them licking their lips.

Their soft, luscious looking red coloured lips that are oh so inviting...

You are not sure if the alcohol is talking right now but honestly, you don't care anymore. "Sure, I don't mind helping you two with your...favor".

The girls' smiles grow wider as you stand up from the barstool, take each one's hand and lead them inside the house and upstairs, thank god everyone else is outside.

"i never really got you two’s name" you said, navigating through the halls of the 2nd floor until eventually you find the door to Jeonghoon's room, but just as your hand gets close to the knob the two girls pin you to the wall, the black haired girl attached her mouth to your neck, alternating between licks, kisses and bites causing you to moan lightly.

Meanwhile the blonde puts her lips on you, engaging in a steamy makeout session while her tongue grazed against your teeth, as if asking for access to your mouth which you humbly accept. It's hypnotic how her sweet lips feel on yours, how her tongue explores inside your mouth, how as soon as she finds your own she initiates a sensual dance of tongues causing both of you to quietly moan.

You both eventually part lips, gasping for air, take a look at one you just kissed, her blonde hair now looks messier than it was when you first met her.

"heh...that was good" she speaks between pants, "anyways, i am Jihyo, and the one who is opening your jeans down there is Hyewon" look down, she already finished popping the last button, leaving you only in briefs.

"Well what are we waiting for, lets get inside" you say, the two girls giggle cutely while you open the room.

in the middle of the room is a king sized bed, big enough to have the three of you on it with pillows on the gar edge of the bed. The two girls lightly push you into the bed before joining you as each one straddles herself on each thigh of yours while their hands work together to take your shirt off your body, throwing it somewhere.

Now the three of you are in a loop.

Starting with Hyewon capturing your lips with hers while her hands rest on the left side on your chest l, admiring both your chest and abs. At the same time Jihyo latches her lips on the right side of your neck, delivering kisses from your shoulder all the way to your earlobe, there eliciting an audible moan directly to your ear before going back to her masterful attack of your neck, meanwhile her left hand wraps around your cock, rubbing it up and down in an attempt to get you harder as fast as possible.

Both of them also start to move their bodies back and forth on each of your thigh, letting you feel their friction getting you closer and closer to your first orgasm.

Suddenly, a switch; now Hyewon does Jihyo's job and vice versa, during those loops, your hands go each one to another girl, appreciating their bodies from their soft bellies all the way to their slander backs, then groping one breast of each girl causing both to gasp in surprise.

Eventually after enough back and forth of them pleasuring you, it gets harder for them to continue rubbing your cock as now they leave your lap, with both of their hands on the hem of your boxers. With perfect timing they pull it down, letting your cock pop out of your cock prison, leaving you the first one being fully naked.

"Wow...unnie, its so big" Hyewon says, looking at your member that is covered with some of your precum with excitement,

"Yes baby...he is so big, and all of it...for us" Jihyo responds, leaning into her friend's lips and pecks her lips lightly.

"I do think its a bit unfair i am the only one naked here" you mention the inequality.

"you are right Oppa" Hyewon replies, "i saw you staring at our tits, when we danced outside" she adds, leaving jihyo with a pretend surprise face.

"Is that so baby..." she questions her best friend before turning her eyes to you "Would you like to fuck them first?" the question might as well be rethoric as without any doubt you say.

"I would gladly want that"

"Then let us get started" Jihyo exclaims, letting you inch your body toward the edge of the bed. Meanwhile she goes behind Hyewon, hands grabbing the hem of her best friend's top, slowly pulling in an attempt to tease you slowly about each part of Hyewon's ample breasts, covered in a lacy purple bra until finally the top is completely off causing her tits to slightly bounce at the recoil, the piece of clothing is thrown at one of the pillows.

Now it's Jihyo's turn to discard her top, this time without any teasing, knowing you can't wait anymore for the show to begin as now she joined her friend being topless, only with a black bra as the wall between your eyes and her nipples.

back at Hyewon, she is now popping each button of her jeans while looking straight at your eyes, biting her lip in arousal and winking to you. Look down and see that her matching purple panties have a wet spot in the middle, making it clear to you that she is excited, and that she is waiting.

And she is not the only one as Jihyo also started quickly working on her own jeans, exposing her black panties and leaving the two girls only with their underwear, both their eyes and panties glistening in what can only be described as excitement.

It's sinful how they are both looking at your cock lustfully like it's their favorite meal waiting to be devoured, how they both kneel down to each side of your thigh while their face get closer to their prized possession.

How they both look at you with innocent eyes one last time before defying it forever.

The scene beneath you is filthy; two girls, both equally as gorgeous and sexy, engaging in a full on makeout session, loudly exchanging saliva with the tip of your cock in between receiving the leftovers. Both of their busts envelop the base, moving up and down, left and right in the rhythm of the kiss, even your balls are not left unsatisfied as both their underboobs take care of that part.

"Fuck...girls..." you mutter, only a minute passed and you are already in a haze, looking at the white ceiling, gripping the sheets of the bed to try and gain some semblance of control. You can't help yourself as you release an audible moan, making sure they know how good they make you feel.

"Unnie...I'm getting wet..." The black haired girl whined, pulling away from Jihyo's lips with an audible 'pop', panting to catch her breath before leaning back into the kiss

"me too baby," she breathily mumbles between kisses. "just a couple more seconds, i can feel him getting close ...".

eventually the first round of the white liquid came out, glazing both of their lips and tongues however they dont stop, even when some of your cum falls inside their mouth they continue, mixing both of their saliva with your cum, making both of their face messier by the second.

More cum erupts from your cock, painting the two girl's faces, some even get on their bras as you can feel yourself relieved with each string you shoot, soon enough the two girls release from their makeout session and rise up to sit on the edge of the bed, finally letting your cock rest, but not for long.

"Oh…you are still hard Oppa..." Hyewon exclaimed, cleaning some of your cum on her face before slightly pushing you closer to the middle of the bed, her previously innocent looking smile now has changed into a slutty grin.

“Let me help you”

You don't even need words to show you agree as now hyewon hands go behind her back, letting an audible click be heard as her bra falls onto the bed, giving you a front view of her now hardened nipples.

Jihyo, seeing what her bestie is planning, quickly unclasped her bra as well and throwing it somewhere. Then they both, at the same time take their hands to their panties, quickly lowering them down their thighs, to their legs and then out of their bodies, finally joining you in being fully naked

Just the sight of the two girls' boobs being shown to you in their full glory and the way both of their neatly shaven pussies are leaking is enough to get your throat dry, unable to mutter a single word and only stare at them in awe.

Then, their second round of pleasure begins

Hyewon now leans down toward your shaft, letting her slender finger pump you one last time before her luscious lips envelope around the tip of your cock.

Her first slurp is enough to get you to moan loudly and move your head back in pleasure, then she starts moving her lips up and down at a steady pace, making sure every movement is audible with slurps, licks and everything in between. It's even worse when you see how her deer-like eyes stare directly into yours.

You are surprised to see how big her mouth is, as even though a lot of your cock is inside her mouth, she is still able to take more. Eventually your tip reaches the back of her throat, now deepthroating you

“She is taking you sooo well, isn't she?” You didn't notice when Jihyo snaked behind you, her tits on your back while her hands glide around your pecs. her cloudy lips delivering sweet pecks to your neck and ear as only after processing all of the senses that she delivers you manage to get a small nod and mumble a small “ngh”

She cutely laughs at your attempt at her response. “I bet her lips feel so sweet on your big, thick cock” she whispers directly into your left ear, not expecting a seemingly sweet, adorable girl like her to speak such filth but for some reason, it excites you.

“I can't wait for you to fill both of our good girls holes with your thick, warm and sticky cum, letting you fuck us like your little slu-OH FUCK” but enough is enough as you finally lose your temper, silencing Jihyo by pushing your two left fingers into her wet pussy, your right hand starts groping one of her boobs while your lips connect with her own.

you three are now a mess.

You have Hyewon, her mouth fully coating your hardened shaft with saliva while her hands work diligently to massage your balls and inner thighs. Her eyes aroused by seeing you, fingering and groping her best friend to the points she stop messaging you with her right hand to finger herself to not leave herself out of the pleasure.

You have Jihyo, her eyes closed shut, lost in the sheer amount of pleasure she receives and gives to you, each time your lips leaves her for attacking her neck she shouts a symphony of moans, but not for long before you continue to kiss her again

And then there’s you, feeling like the star of a porn video with two incredibly hot girls. Which you have never met before and now they are naked, hungry for your cock while you fuck them in various ways.

The only way you can describe this moment the three of you are sharing at the moment is heaven in hell.

“I AM SO CLOSE OPPA,” Jihyo shouts into the air, feeling her climax getting closer with each passing second. Yours is also not so far behind, as the suction of Hyewon's lips is driving you crazy.

However just as you were about to release your load into her throat, Hyewon swiftly lets her mouth out of your cock without any gag, she rises from her prone position and hovering closely above your cock, before quickly saying.

“I'm safe”

“Huh? What are you-OH FUCK” You dont have time to react as the deer-eyed slut impales her slick yet tight pussy directly on your dick, you could swear you see tears in her eyes from the pain she is feeling but its quickly replaced with tears of joy, signaling you that she wants this.

“UGHHH, YES” She curses loudly after the first explosion of cum erupts inside her. Then quickly comes the second, the third and even the forth, each pump gets Hyewon to a level of ecstasy she never felt before as she rolls her eyes backwards and lets her tongue hang out of her mouth while her orgasm flows onto the base of your dick.

At the same time your fingers also get coated by Jihyo's own fluids, moaning unintelligible words but it was clear that she was enjoying every second of her high. Eventually your mutual orgasm comes to an end, as you all fall into the bed, both girls on different sides while you are in between them.

For a moment the surrounding goes silent. No club music from outside the house, no chatter from drunk university students, the only sounds the three of can comprehend are each other’s synced up breathing, attempting to recover from your lust-filled haze. Finally, Hyewon gathers enough strength to talk.

“Oppa…are you…done” a breathy question came from her mouth as for the first time tonight, her eyes looked at yours with pure innocence.

You can't help but giggle at her question and lean forward to peck her lips. “I think with sexy you two are…i dont think i will ever be done” you respond.

“Oh, That's great to hear Oppa…” Jihyo interrupted your small talk with her friend. Take a look at her, her hair messy and ruffled, her entire body filled with a mixture of sweat and cum.

“Because…i haven't got your cum inside me yet…” she adds, her hands now go to her hair, smoothing it from any random strands and then parting it in the middle, creating two symmetrical ponytails from each side of her head.

“But…” another pause as she turns herself face down, letting herself gain control as she raises her body up while keeping her arms and knees on the mattress, her soft and curvy ass pointed up and directly at you before saying.

“I want it in my ass”

And just like that, you could feel yourself getting hard at the view, it's not hard to see how Jihyo's pussy is still wet and is leaking on the sheets, telling you that she is ready for her turn, but before you cave in to her request, her eyes turn toward Hyewon.

“Baby…i want to eat you out, i bet Oppa’s cum tastes as sweet as i think…” She gestures to her best friend, quickly Hyewon shifts in front of her face, sitting in a way that gives easy access to her pussy for Jihyo.

Realize that Jihyo's two ponytails are your handles, you grab each one with your hand, the blonde girl looks back at you one last time with a wide smile and shining eyes, signaling to you that she is ready for you.

And with that out of the way, you begin.

Starting a chain reaction, you pull both of Jihyo's ponytails and slam your cock deep into her asshole. In response, she elicits a moan but quickly she inches her tongue toward Hyewon’s entrance licking out some of your cum that was left over which causes Her to clamp her soft and meaty thighs around her best friend’s head and join Jihyo with her moans.

“Fuck, unnie…it feels so good” The deer-eyed girl moaned, quickly getting aroused again seeing her best friend eat her out while being pounded by you from behind.

“I know ugh baby…he ugh is so deep inside ugh my ass” Jihyo tries to mumble to her friend in between pounds from you and licks from her. Meanwhile, you are silent, lost in the cloudy haze of pleasure from how tight her ass is, only sometimes releasing a groan.

Eventually you start increasing your pace, and it seems that Jihyo’s enjoys it, mostly by the fact that she also starts moving her butt toward your dick, letting you hear breathy moans such ‘yes’ or ‘more’ while still having the energy to pleasure Hyewon, who was holding her best friend's head close to her pussy in order to get eaten out more often.

As you start feeling yourself getting closer to your ends, you mutter loudly. “Shit girls, I am gonna cum”.

“Load it in her ngh ass Oppa” Hyewon managed to respond, struggling to not vocalize her pleasure. “I bet my cock-slut unnie would love getting filled by your thick cum, just like you did to my pussy” she dirty talks, getting you one step closer to where they both want you.

“YES, PLEASE OPPA” Jihyo loudly moans while turning her face back to you. “CUM INSIDE ME, FILL MY SLUTTY ASS WITH YOUR COCK, AS MUCH AS YOU WANT”.

And then, you finally cave in to their requests as for the final time of the night, your cock shoots one last string of cum into Jihyo's ass, one last Lick of Jihyo's tongue into Hyewon’s Cunt and one time where Hyewon clamps her thighs on Jihyo’s head the three of you moan from the sheer pleasure that overwhelms your bodies and then you all fall into the bed.

Once again the room is quiet, no one dares mutter a word, you all have enough strength to just look at each’s now with tired yet happy eyes.

And in your mind, only one thought pops in your head, and you know that both Hyewon and Jihyo were thinking about the same thing as well.

“Best. Sex. Ever”

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Started writing in 6/8/2024

Finished writing in 7/8/2024

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #weeekly #weeekly jihan #weeekly smut #jihan smut #weeekly zoa #zoa smut #male reader smut #male reader #x male reader

640 notes · View notes

iuchamjohta · 3 months ago

Text

A magic touch ft Seulgi

Word count: 9036 Tags: Thressome, Double penetration, Anal, Squirting, spitroast, vibrators, overstimulation, use of blindfold, armpit kink, a little bit of feet.

Longest fic ever of smut! Hope yall enjoy it. Seeing her fancon pics and vid made me just had to write about her. See ends for more notes The final notes of ‘Cosmic Love’, Red Velvet’s last encore song reverberated through the stadium, the lights dimmed, leaving the crowd mesmerised at the captivating performance.

A sea of applause and cheers was heard. The stage was a riot of colour and sound, and the energy in the air was almost tangible. Seulgi stood with the other members of her band, sweat glistening on their faces, her hearts pounding from the adrenaline and the sheer joy of the performance. She had just given her all for what she believed, was another stunning performance. After catching her breath, Seulgi gathered at the front of the stage, hands clasped together as her group said their final thanks and took a bow. The audience’s roar was deafening, and she felt a wave of appreciation washed over her. Her band waved, smiled, and exchanged grateful glances, soaking in the moment. The connection between them and their fans felt like a beautiful, unspoken bond. She couldn't have asked for a more incredible audience. As the final applause began to fade, Seulgi exited the stage, her steps heavy but her spirits high.

The backstage area was a hive of activity—roadies packing up equipment, crew members tidying up, and fellow artists exchanging congratulatory hugs. She felt a pang of exhaustion as she walked through the corridor leading to her dressing room. Once inside, Seulgi slumped onto the couch with a grateful sigh, but her relief was short-lived. The soreness in her muscles was impossible to ignore. After consecutive concerts that they had, it has finally taken a toll on her body. She tried to stretch, but each movement seemed to amplify the stiffness in her legs and shoulders. Seulgi grimaced and leaned back, wondering if there was a way she could magically make the pains in her body go away.

“Unnie, are you okay?” Yeri, ever observant, came over and plopped down next to Seulgi. Her eyes were full of concern as she watched Seulgi struggle to find a comfortable position. Seulgi managed a weary smile “Yeah, I’m fine, all that dancing and jumping really took its toll tonight” This was expected. Afterall, Seulgi was a born performer, she pours her heart and soul into every movement, each dance step a testament to her dedication and passion. Her flawless execution of her powerful dance moves and boundless energy never fails to captivate the audience and turn the stage into a breathtaking spectacle. “It seems, you are getting old Unnie, the magical 30 have caught up to you” Yeri teased. “Hey! I’m still youthful and energetic” Seulgi pouted, as she attempted to move, a wince of discomfort crossed her face, revealing just how sore she was. The sight of her struggling to keep up her appearances despite her aching muscles was both endearing and a bit comical, making her look even more charming in her vulnerability.

Yeri chuckled at the sight before her cute Unnie. “I’ve got something that would help you a lot,” Yeri said as she reached into her bag to pull out a business-card-sized-envelope.” Seulgi's eyes lit up upon hearing this, her eyes tracing every movement of her younger member. “What is this?” She took the card from Yeri’s hands and glanced at it. The elegant script on the front read, “A magic touch.” Written below that was Y/N, the contact details and a note that said, “The best massage for tired muscles.” “Request for Y/N, he is the best one out there” Yeri said. “Oh and tell the receptionist that I sent you and you want the Yeri’s special,” Yeri added. “ Yeri’s special? What’s that” Seulgi raised an eyebrow, intrigued at the weird request.” “It’s nothing much! They just make sure to pay more attention to you since I’m a regular” Yeri smirked to a clueless Seulgi, oblivious of what was about to unfold. "I'm all sweaty and haven't showered yet. It’s going to be late by the time I finish all that—will I still have time to make it to the massage?" Seulgi whined. "Don’t worry about that—they’ll take care of everything for you! I always go there after our concerts,” Yeri reassured her. Seulgi remembered how Yeri would often head off alone after performances and return to their apartment looking refreshed and rejuvenated, as if she were a completely new person. That was more than enough to convince Seulgi, to trust her maknae. Assuming there would be showering facilities at the parlor, Seulgi gathered her things and asked her manager to drive her to the address on the card.

The drive felt lengthy as Seulgi nervously fumbled with the black and gold business card in her hand. "Best massage out there," she muttered, hoping it wasn’t just a marketing gimmick. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, and when she reopened them, they had arrived. The manager pulled up to the front, and Seulgi double-checked the address before getting out. The massage centre was housed in a stately building with an elegant facade, its grandeur illuminated by soft, ambient lighting. The entrance was adorned with lush greenery and delicate string lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Seulgi walked towards the entrance, her tired muscles already anticipating the relief to come. A beautifully crafted wooden door greeted her. It was flanked by tall, ornate vases filled with fresh flowers. As she pushed open the door, a gentle chime rang out, and she was greeted by a serene, luxurious interior. The lobby was a haven of calm and sophistication. Soft, instrumental music played in the background, blending harmoniously with the gentle scent of essential oils that permeated the air. The reception area featured a sleek, polished marble desk and an elegantly designed waiting area with plush seating and tranquil water features. Large, framed artworks of nature scenes adorned the walls, enhancing the sense of peaceful retreat. Seulgi approached the reception desk, where a friendly female receptionist named Emily welcomed her with a warm smile. “Erm, Yeri sent me, and she told me to request for Y/N and for the Yeri’s special” Seulgi said sheepishly, uncertain of what she was asking for. "Of course, ma'am. Please have a seat in the lobby while we prepare your room." Emily’s friendly demeanour immediately put Seulgi at ease.

After a short 10 minutes, Emily called for Seulgi telling her that the room was ready and led her down the hallway. As Seulgi walked down the hallway, she marveled at the attention to detail. The walls were lined with calming hues and soft, textured fabrics, creating an atmosphere of relaxation. Each treatment room had its own unique design, with soft lighting, comfortable massage tables, and calming decor. Seulgi was escorted to her room, which was a sanctuary of tranquility. The room featured a massage table draped in soft, pristine linens, surrounded by warm, ambient light and gentle, aromatic scents. The atmosphere was inviting, promising a session of deep relaxation and rejuvenation. Seductive like a siren, was what came to mind in Seulgi's head as she saw the layout. She shook that thought out of her head and sat at the large massage table in the middle of the room." You can leave your clothes and bra here, but please keep your underwear on," Emily instructed. Once Seulgi was ready, she asked if there was a nearby shower, she could use. Emily reassured her with a smile, "Don’t worry, our masseuse will take care of everything, including a wash before your session." Emily then took out a soft silk satin blindfold and prepared to place it over Seulgi's eyes. "Um, what’s this for?" Seulgi asked. Emily smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, it helps you close your eyes and relax, enhancing your overall experience." Emily gently placed the soft silk satin blindfold over Seulgi's eyes, the cool fabric settling comfortably against her skin. As she adjusted the blindfold to ensure it was secure yet gentle, Seulgi felt a soothing darkness envelop her. The sensation of the blindfold heightened her other senses, allowing her to fully immerse herself in the forthcoming relaxation. The absence of visual distractions helped her mind quiet, creating a deeper sense of calm and anticipation for the massage ahead.

As Seulgi laid face up on the plush massage table, she settled into the comfortable linens and took a deep breath, readying herself for the massage. After about 5 minutes, she expected to hear the footsteps of just one person, the masseuse. However, as she listened closely, she detected the sound of 2 pairs of footsteps approaching. A slight rustling and murmured conversation filled the air, piquing her curiosity about what was happening just outside her line of sight. “Are you ready for your cleaning? Seulgi” You asked with a deep voice. Her face changed to an initial surprised expression. She was showing her idol body to what she believed was not 1 but 2 male masseurs. This expression faded quickly as she reminded herself that this was a professional setting and that they were here to help her relax. Trusting in the professionalism of the staff, she put her concerns aside and nodded softly prepared to fully embrace the massage experience. You took in the magnificent view before you. Seulgi was incredibly sexy.

She exuded an effortless allure, her skin glowing with a subtle sheen of sweat that highlighted her toned physique. Her hair, slightly damp, framed her face beautifully, and her well-defined abs…those well-defined abs were to die for. Her breasts were full, and her curves accentuated her plump meaty ass. You and your partner, Alison, take in her irresistible feminine scent and begin your work. "Let's start with your tongue bath, shall we?" Seulgi was shocked by that very different meaning of cleaning, but before she responded, you and Alison began your slow, sensual tongue massage. Starting at her ears, you trace the outline of her lobes with your tongues, flicking the delicate skin with the tips. Seulgi lets out a soft moan, instead of protesting, she lets her head tilt back to give you better access. She was secretly enjoying the moment as well. You pause at her earlobes, sucking and nibbling gently. Lowering your mouths, you lick a path down her jawline, your tongues working in unison as you coat her skin with your warm saliva, enjoying the way her body squirms in response.

Then, lifting her arms, you move down to her armpits, an area that deserves your special attention. You notice the sweat that glitters on her arch, and can’t help but take a deep breath, inhaling her scent fully. You and Alison take one pit each, burying your faces in the sweet-smelling hollows. Your tongues dart out, licking every inch of her sweat-glistened skin, tasting the tangy, musky flavour of her arousal. You suck and nip at the sensitive folds of her skin, replacing her sweat with your saliva, your breath hot against her pits, making her whimper with pleasure. After thoroughly cleaning and worshipping her armpits, you trace a path down to her chest, circling her nipples but not quite touching them yet. You lick and nibble at the soft flesh of her breasts, your tongues flattening to cover as much area as possible. Finally, you can't resist any longer, and you latch your mouths onto her erect nipples, sucking gently at first, then with more intensity. Seulgi's breath quickens, her hands instinctively going to your heads, threading her fingers through your hair as you tease her sensitive peaks."Oh, fuck... that feels so good," she breathes, her hips bucking unconsciously as waves of pleasure shot through to her already throbbing pussy. She was leaking wet and feeling exposed at the mercy of you and Alison. She was relieved that she could keep her underwear on, which provided a final layer of modesty and protection, sparing her from potential embarrassment and preserving her dignity.

You and Alison continued your work giving each nipple equal attention, your hands occasionally roaming her body, caressing her soft skin, your fingers gently pinching and rolling her nipples when your mouths aren't on them. Both of you work in unison as if a mirror to each other's movements giving the same attention to both halves of her body. Teasingly, you trail your tongues down her quivering abdomen, circling her belly button before dipping in as well. You swiped your tongue along her well-defined abs, feeling her toned muscle on your tongue. Her skin is like a canvas, and you're painting it with your saliva, marking her with your lust. As both of you traced down her curves and thighs with your tongue finally reaching the waistband of her soaking panties, you paused and looked at her with hungry eyes. "Already so wet down here," you comment, your voice husky with desire. Seulgi’s face flushed with embarrassment upon hearing this. Seulgi bites her lip, anticipation coursing through her veins. "Please... I need more."You chuckle softly, enjoying the power you hold over her. Instead of going straight for her pussy, you surprise her by capturing her feet in your hands. You and Alison take a foot each, kissing and licking the delicate skin of her soles and toes, sucking on her toes one by one, making her squirm. After thoroughly worshipping her feet, you use your hands to massage her calves and thighs, working your way back up her body. You avoid her pussy, your fingers brushing agonisingly close, but never quite touching her aching core. Seulgi is panting now, her need palpable in the room. Her pussy is leaking onto her panties, the wet spot growing bigger by the second. "Please... touch me," she begs, her voice thick with desire. "Not yet sweetheart. We're going to take our time with you," you whisper, your lips brushing against her earlobe, commanding a certain dominance in your voice. You took a step back to admire the view. Seulgi's body is glistening with both of your saliva, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she anticipates your next move. Proud of the tongue-bath you gave her. You reach out and gently grasp her panty-clad ass, giving each cheek a soft squeeze before slowly sliding your hands down to cup her pussy. You feel the heat radiating from her core, the damp fabric of her panty, a testament to her arousal. Using just the tips of your fingers, you massage her outer lips through the fabric, avoiding her clit and entrance, much to her frustration. "Tease," she whimpers, trying to push her hips toward your hand. You chuckle, enjoying her squirm. "All in good time, sweetheart." You move lower, your fingers tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Seulgi whimpers, her need building with every touch. Her pussy is dripping wet, but you continue to avoid it, focusing on the areas surrounding it.

Then as if understanding each other, both of your tongues and hands leave her body, causing her to feel empty and wanting. Seulgi lay still on the massage table, her senses heightened by the uncertainty of what was happening with the blindfold still covering her eyesight. The silence of the room was then interrupted by the soft squirt of massage oil being dispensed from the bottle. The sound was immediately followed by a cool, liquid sensation as the oil was gently applied to her skin. The initial contact of the cold oil against her warm, slightly damp body made her shiver pleasantly. The contrast between the chill of the oil and the warmth of her skin was both surprising and invigorating. Using slow and deliberate movements, you continued to pour the cool scented oil onto her body, starting with her shoulders and working your way down. Her skin glistens in the soft light as you massage the oil into her flesh, your strong hands working out any tension she might have, untying every knot in her body. Your hands move down to cup one of her breasts, and you could feel her nipples already rock hard from your skilled touch. Your hands gave her firm breast a strong squeeze. “Oh, yes,” Seulgi moaned, arching her back as you continued to knead her flesh more roughly. “Don’t stop,” Capturing her nipples between your fingers, you rolled them gently before you and Alison gave it a rough tug, seeing how far it could stretch, before letting it spring back to her chest. This move left Seulgi moaning loudly and whimpering in a hot mess. Her breath quickens as your hands glide lower, caressing her inner thighs, inching towards her core but never quite touching it. You both chuckle darkly at her frustrated whimpers.

Both of you pulled away again and grabbed something from the desk. A soft vibrating sound was heard, which she guessed was a bullet vibrator. You and Alison switched places now, you attending to her lower body, while Alison her upper. The blindfold was doing its work, keeping her anticipating the next move yet never knowing when it was going to come. Tracing the cool metal over her skin, you watch as goosebumps rise in its wake. Seulgi shivers, her breath catching in her throat as you slowly drag the vibrator up her thigh, closer and closer to her aching pussy. Meanwhile Alison worked his way down her arm and to her heavy breast, circling her rock-hard tits but never quite touching it again. You continued to administer this treatment for a good 5 minutes, always nearing her core but never touching it. This to Seulgi felt like an hour. She squirms, her hips bucking slightly as she tries to rub her neglected pussy against the table to gain some sort of friction. “Such a good girl for us” Alison murmurs. “Please... I need... to cum" she pleads, her voice hoarse with desire. "Patience, my dear, you will only cum when we allow you to" you chide gently but with utmost dominance in your tone, which leaves Seulgi submissive and unable to protest. Grabbing some tape, you and Alison place the bullet vibrators on each of her tits "You like that, huh? Like us playing with your tits?" you murmur, your lips brushing her ear. You blow a gentle stream of air onto her damp nipples, causing her to shudder, and then you twist and tug on them, earning a keening whine from Seulgi before finally securing the vibrator firmly in place on her tits.

Instead of giving her the relief she craves, you take another vibrator and press the vibrator to her inner thigh, just below her pussy, taping it in place. Seulgi lets out a frustrated whine, wanting the vibrator to be exactly where she needs it. At this point, her underwear had been so soaked that it turned a completely different shade of colour from her initial bright pink to a deep red velvet (I know I couldn't help it). It has been almost an hour of edging and teasing yet Seulgi was unable to get the release she had been chasing.

“Turn around for me sweetheart” you instruct, giving her a playful smack on the ass. The sound echoing through the still and silent room as you leave a slightly red handprint on her fleshy globes. Seulgi does as she's told, presenting her round, peachy ass to you. It's a glorious sight, and you can't resist caressing the soft, plump cheeks, revelling in the softness of her skin. With her chest now pressed against the massage table, she could feel the bullet vibrators, vibration stronger on her nipples and the sudden pleasure shot through to her core, causing an accident mini squirt out of her throbbing pussy. Did she just have an orgasm from just having her tits played with? Seulgi thought. She however had hoped that this would have gone unnoticed to both of you. To an experienced masseur like you, it was immediately apparent. “Did you just cum? You slut, who said you could” Your deep voice echoed with authority. “Naughty girl like you needs to be punished!” You grip her plump ass cheeks, squeezing them firmly before landing a sharp smack that echoes through the room. Seulgi yelps, but it quickly turns into a moan as you massage the heat from the spank. ‘That's a good girl. You are enjoying this aren't you? Taking your punishment so well," Alison purrs, landing another smack, this time on the other cheek. Both of you continued to land open handed smacks on her ass until it was glowing a rosy, red, you admired your handiwork, running your hands over the warm flesh. Seulgi squirms, desperate for more which you do not disappoint.

You and Alison stand on either side of her once more, your hands roaming her back and ass, massaging and kneading the supple flesh, administering the same treatment as you did to her front. Your fingers glide down the crack of her ass, teasingly close to her most intimate hole, but never quite breaching it. “Well, there is one more area we have not cleaned sweetheart” Slipping her soaked undies off and placing them on the table beside you, you leaned down and bury your face in her ass, your tongue snaking out to lick a path from the tail bone down to her crack, tasting the salty sweetness of her most private areas. Seulgi moans, her head falling forward to rest on the table as she basks in the sensations bombarding her body. Alison joins in, and together, you eat her out, your tongues working in harmony to pleasure her. Alison licks and sucks at her pussy, delving into her wet folds, tasting her sweet nectar. At the same time, you rim her tight asshole, circling the wrinkled flesh with your tongues, teasingly penetrating her with the tips. Seulgi is lost in a haze of pleasure, her body shaking uncontrollably as she nears her orgasm with the attention her holes are finally getting. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum... don't stop!" she cries out, her hands gripping the edges of the table as she braces herself for the impending explosion. “Hold it slut” both you and Alison, remove your tongues from holes. “Please, let me cum” Seulgi begged. Seeing her sincerity, you relented with an agreement, “You only get to cum on our count of 3 from now on, is that understood?” You declared with a certain firmness in your voice, eliciting a nod from Seulgi.

With that said, you and Alison in union dived back into her holes, lapping away hungrily at both of her holes. Then Seulgi heard the count as she reached her orgasm. “3” Seulgi fist clenches hard on the sheets trying to hold her orgasm. “2” you hear her whimpering as if begging you to count faster. “1” You intentionally drag the 1 as you swirl your tongue relentlessly around the wrinkled hole. Meanwhile Alison, captured her clit with his mouth and gave it a rough suck. Her knuckles were white at this point, before you finally gave the command “Cum” As if she was being liberated from a cage, Seulgi convulsed hard, releasing one of the strongest orgasms she ever had. Spraying Alison’s face with her squirt, some even reaching the room walls. A pool of her juice was even formed on the sheets below her. As her orgasm starts to subside, you and Alison lap at her remaining juice that tasted sweet as nectar before slowly pulling away, your tongues and lips glistening with her essence. You take a moment to admire your handiwork, your beautiful client splayed out on the table, her body spent and satisfied. “It is my first-time squirting” Seulgi pants while trying to catch her breath. “Don’t worry it will not be your last. “You smirked leaving her to wonder what you meant. This session was just getting started.

You reach for some more massage oil, warming it in your hands before pouring it onto Seulgi's back, your slick hands gliding over her supple skin. You work the oil into her muscles, your fingers firm yet gentle as you soothe away any remaining tension. Your hands roam lower, cupping her ass cheeks and spreading them slightly to expose her tight, quivering asshole once again. You rub the oil into her crease, your fingers teasingly circling her hole, making her moan and squirm. Before she could protest or had enough time to recover from her orgasm, you slip a finger inside her ass, your other hand reaching under to find her swollen clit. “Oh God, I have never had anything in there” She moaned. Ignoring her, you finger-fuck her tight hole slowly, as your other hand works its magic on her clit, rubbing and circling the sensitive bud. Alison joins in, running his hands up Seulgi’s thick thighs, spreading them slightly, moving to kneel before Seulgi. Her pussy is completely bare, her lips already swollen from the previous simulation. He leaned forward, inhaling her sweet musk before tracing his tongue along her slit. She tastes of honey and desire, and Alison moans softly as he laps at her, his tongue flicking over her clit, replacing your fingers. Teasingly he inserted one finger into her tight hole and felt her wet clench around his fingers. "Fuck, you're so wet, baby," Alison groaned, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside her. Seulgi keens, her body writhing as both of you stretch and fill her. "More... I need more," she begs, her hands reaching back to grip your wrists. Squirting a little more oil to your fingers, you slowly added a second finger, slowly pushing it deeper into Seulgi's ass, stretching her slowly as you work her in a steady rhythm. Seulgi gasps, her body tensing momentarily before relaxing as you curled your finger, searching for that sweet spot. Meanwhile Alison continued to lick and suck on her clit, his own fingers buried deep inside her pussy, slowly quickening his fingering, until with every thrust, a squelching sound could be heard from how wet Seulgi’s pussy had become. "Mmm, that's it," you encouraged. "Take it all, Seulgi. We know you can take more." You give her fleshy ass a playful bite before licking the redden area, as you fuck your fingers deeper into her ass, feeling the tight hole clench around your finger even more with every playful bite that you give her.

Synchronising your movements, your fingers and tongues working in tandem to drive Seulgi wild. Her breathing becomes ragged, her hips bucking as she cries out, her third orgasm approaching rapidly. You don't stop, determined to push her further. You slip a third finger into her ass, scissoring her as you suck another reddened spot you created. Alison mirrors your movements, adding a third finger to Seulgi’s pussy fucking her with powerful deliberate strokes. "Oh my God, oh my God," Seulgi chants, her body glistening with a mixture of lube and her own juices. "I'm going to cum again, please don't stop!" "That's it, baby. Cum for us," Alison urges, his voice hoarse. With that , the magical countdown began “3…2….1…” Again, you intentionally hold the 1, which causes Seulgi to once again grip the sheets tightly. “Cum, let it all go sweetheart” you encouraged, your voice thick with desire. As if on command, and with a few more quick thrusts of your fingers and relentless rubbing of her clit, Seulgi tumbles over the edge. She cries out, her body convulsing as she rides out another powerful orgasm, her juices dripping down Alison’s hand. Alison presses his fingers against Seulgi’s lips, which Seulgi subconsciously opened invitingly to suck his fingers clean. She felt so dirty tasting herself but was surprised at how sweet it tasted. Before she had time to recover from her orgasm, your fingers re-entered her puckered hole, this time with a fourth finger. Alison, seeing this joined back, filling her empty pussy with 4 fingers as well. Seulgi screams, her body shaking uncontrollably. "Too much! Oh, God, it's too much! I need a break" she cries, her voice high and breathless. "Relax, baby. Let it happen," you soothed. As you and Alison continued the assault, relentlessly stretching out her holes, you sensed Seulgi’s 4th orgasm was coming and you began the routine. “3….2....1” “Cum you slut”. Her orgasm hits her like a wave, her body trembling as she cries out, her pussy clenching around Alison’s fingers. You feel her ass contracting around your fingers and you know she’s experiencing an intense, full body release.

You remove your fingers, her ass gripping them tightly as you pull them out, reluctant to let go. You marvel at the sight of her gaping hole, satisfied at how stretched it looks. Seulgi collapses onto the table, spent and satisfied, a lazy smile on her face, her eyes closed as she basks in the afterglow. "That... was incredible," she manages to gasp. You stand there, taking in the sight of her gorgeous, satisfied body, giving her a short break before removing the taped vibrators on her tits and thighs. This deceived Seulgi into thinking the session was finally over after 4 hard orgasms. Little did she know what “Yeri’s special entailed”. Like energy that cannot be destroyed or created only converted to other forms, so was the use of the bullet vibrator, it simply had a new function this time. Swapping places with Alison, you push the vibrator deep inside her pussy causing her eyes to open to the darkness of the blindfold. The buzz echoed through Seulgi's body as you slowly work the vibrator in and out, scissoring her occasionally as you allow the vibrator to work its magic. As you continue to fuck her with the vibrator, relentless in your pursuit of her pleasure. Alison adds the second vibrator, pushing it into her ass as you focus on her pussy. Seulgi is sent into a mess of writhing limbs and incoherent moans as you drive her to the edge again and again, her body shaking with another orgasm. With every orgasm, you applied the same rule, only allowing her to cum when you gave the command, conditioning her body to your words.

Then, sitting Seulgi up, Alison went behind Seulgi, cupping her breast giving them a gentle squeeze and massage, before she suddenly hears a different vibrating sound this time, one more powerful that filled the room. “What is…” Before she could even finish her sentence, you pressed the vibrating wand in your hand against her clit, making her cry out in surprise and pleasure. Her hands clutch at the sheets, her body already on edge. If Alison was not behind her supporting her, she would have crashed onto the floor by now. “Fuckkkk , please, let me come” You smile, holding the vibrator firmly in place, watching her squirm and writhe. Her pussy is already glistening with arousal, her clit begging for more attention. “3…2…1…. Cum for me Seulgi, let me see you fall apart” You turn up the intensity on all the vibrators, making her cry out loudly as she felt the vibrators rub against each other. Her body convulses, her back arching as the orgasm crashes through her. You hold the wand firmly against her clit, prolonging her pleasure, riding out the wave. “Please… no more…” You ignore her, repeating the countdown, time and time again. “One more time sweetheart” you demanded one orgasm after another, and she delivers each time with her body solely responding to the countdown now. After a boundless amount of orgasm, Seulgi feels like she has almost lost her mind from the over-stimulation.

Then there was silence…… Everything was removed in an instant from her body and the vibrations went still . She felt Alison standing up from behind her as well. “Y/N, are you there?” There was no response for another 15 seconds, and just as she was about to take off her blindfolds to understand the situation, she heard the ritual that by this time, her body was all too familiar with. “3…2….” “Wait, I can’t cum anymore, it’s too much” She protested while wondering also how she would be able to cum, with all the stimulants removed, “1..” As she heard the 1, her body anticipated a pending orgasm, but she needed a little something that would push her over the edge. You are more than happy to oblige. “Cum” You surprise her with an open-handed smack right on her sensitive pussy. The sound echoes through the room, and Seulgi's eyes roll to the back of her head as another orgasm takes hold of her. This time, it's too much, and she squirts even more powerfully, her juices drenching you. "Oh, fucking hell..." she screams, her body shaking uncontrollably. "I'm squirting... Can't hold it..." You laugh, a deep, satisfied sound, as you watch her lose control. "That's it, drench us, you filthy slut," you growl, your voice thick with satisfaction. Her juices coat your hands and your body with multiple spurts that she could not control, a testament to the pleasure you've given her. Finally, you relent, and let her body rest. Seulgi lies boneless on the table, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. You and Alison clean her up using the towels, before you see her soaked panties on the table and a nasty thought crosses your mind. Using it as if it is a sponge, you swipe her already soaked fabric on the pool that had formed on the massage table between Seulgi’s legs, making it dripping with her essence. “Here, drink up” Your finger grabbing her chin as a sign for her to open up her mouth. Seulgi still deprived of her eyesight, innocently consented and opened her mouth assuming it was water. You squeeze the soaked panties, allowing the essence to fall directly into her mouth. She was initially shocked at the quantity and the taste of it before recognising what it was but swallowed it anyway like a good girl she was. You did this a few more times, hydrating her with her own essence making her feel like a dirty little slut.

Seulgi closed her eyes and accidentally drifted off into sleep while you guys were doing the remaining cleaning up. You smile gently at the sight of the cute girl before you who you had known had given her all on and off stage. After a while, she stirs a little and the blindfold falls off, and she blinks, her eyes adjusting to the soft light of the room. “Welcome back sweetheart” you murmur a satisfied smile on your face. Seulgi cracks a lazy smile, her entire body tingling with post-orgasmic bliss. "That... was incredible. I've never experienced anything like it." her body is feeling renewed by now. Her gaze lands on you both, and her breath catches in her throat as she takes in the sight of your eager, hard cocks

"It is my turn to return the favor," she purrs, her voice thick with desire. She kneels before you both, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You and Alison stand side by side, your cocks twitching with anticipation as your 7-inch cocks throbbed with need. It was professionalism but more so a miracle that kept you guys from fucking her in the past hour and half. I mean who could resist such an insanely sexy body like Seulgi’s. She was such a sexy vixen. "Suck us off, sweetheart," you growl, your voice deep and husky. "Show us how much you appreciated the massage." Seulgi's eyes shine as she looks up at you, and then her gaze shifts to Alison. Her lip’s part, and she leans forward, wrapping her lips around your cockhead. She swirls her tongue around the sensitive ridge, teasing you with soft sucks and gentle nips. Her hands explore your thighs, squeezing the firm muscle, her touch sending shivers up your bodies. You groan as you watch her, your cock throbbing fiercely. "That's it, baby," you encourage her. "You like the taste of this dick, don't you?" Seulgi hums in response, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body. You thread your fingers into her hair, guiding her pace, sliding your length in and out of her warm, wet mouth. Not wanting to leave Alison out, she uses her hands to gather the saliva dripping down her chin from the blowjob, lubricating it before stretching them out to give Alison’s slow but firm strokes on his cock. Soon she was controlling the pace and alternating between the both of you. Seulgi uses her warm hands to stroke your length this time, while she takes Alison deeper, her lips gliding to the base of Alison’s cock and her tongue grazing the underside of his shaft. She increases her pace in her double administration, stroking faster while bobbing her head quicker, maintaining eye contact, and you can see the desire burning in her eye. It was a sloppy mess and you and Alison were grunting and clenching your fist to not release too quickly from the expert skills of the sexy vixen before you.

You look over to Alison, and without a word he nods, as if understanding you too well. Together, you stopped Seulgi and urged her to stand. You lead her to the massage table and gently lay her down, her head hanging off the edge. Her neck is exposed, her hair cascading down, providing the perfect access to her pretty mouth. "You ready for a face fuck, baby?" you ask. Seulgi's eyes glitter with excitement. "Please," she whispers, her breath coming in short gasps. "Fuck my mouth. I want to feel you." You don't need to be told twice. You step up to the table, positioning your throbbing cock at her lips. Her mouth opens, and you slide in, her warm, wet tongue greeting you. You groan as you start to thrust, your hands tangling in her hair, holding her in place as you begin to fuck her face. Her mouth is hot and tight around your cock, her tongue dancing along your length. You pull out, your cock slick with her saliva, and then plunge back in, going deeper each time, hitting the back of her throat. Your balls graze her nose each time you fuck deeply into her throat, forcing her to inhale the musky scent it was giving off, which turned her on even more. You watch as her eyes water, the signs of her slight discomfort only spurring you on. "You like that, don't you, baby?" you grunt. "You like getting your throat fucked by this dick." Seulgi manages a throaty moan in response, her hands grasping at your thighs as you pound her mouth. Shifting your hands, you reached out to stroke Seulgi’s throat, you could feel your cock going in and out of her. You applied some pressure and tightened your hold of her throat, which causes her throat to also tighten around your huge cock increasing your pleasure. She gags on it, her face glistening with more and more spit with every passing second. After a while, you thought of your partner and pulled out, leaving her lips glistening and swollen, and stepped aside for Alison to take your place. He plunges into her mouth, his cock slick and hard, and begins to thrust, his pace frantic as he fills her mouth over and over.

As Alison uses her mouth, you take the opportunity to explore her body again. Your hands glide over her soft skin, caressing her breasts, pinching her nipples, making her squirm and moan around Alison’s cock. You trace your fingers down her stomach, dipping into her navel, before sliding your hand lower, between her thighs. Her pussy is dripping wet again from the face fuck, the evidence of her arousal coating your fingers as you rub her clit in slow, teasing circles. Seulgi bucks her hips, her breath coming in sharp gasps as you torture her with pleasure. "Please," she whimpers, her voice muffled by Alison's cock. "I need more." You chuckle as you think to yourself of what an insatiable slut Seulgi is, even her countless orgasm was not yet enough for her, but then you remembered …. Well Yeri’s way worse. “Fuck her Y/N”. Alison grunted. You do not need to be told twice. You position yourself at her entrance, the tip of your cock teasing her wet, eager hole. With one smooth thrust, you sink into her, her heat enveloping and accommodating your big cock. Seulgi cries out, her back arching as you fill her completely. You give her a moment to adjust to your size, revelling in the feeling of her tight pussy clenching around you. "Ready for more, baby?" you ask, your voice rough. Seulgi manages a nod, her eyes wild with desire. You begin to move, slowly at first, pulling out until just the head of your cock remains inside her, before slamming back into her with force in one swoop. Seulgi screams, her legs wrapping around your waist, her heels digging into your ass, urging you on. Then, you set a relentless pace, pounding into her, your balls slapping against her ass with each deep thrust. Her pussy grips you tightly, milking your cock. It was a rhythmic and synchromatic mess. With every hard thrust that you fuck Seulgi with, it pushes her take take more of Alison’s cock down her throat. Similarly with every thrust that Alison’s fucks Seulgi’s throat with, she was pushed back to take your shaft deeper into her. This spit roast left Seulgi at the mercy of both of you controlling the pace. She felt like she was merely a vessel of pleasure to be used by both of you at this point and all of you knew it would not be long before you all found your release. "I'm close," she whimpers. "Please, don't stop." You grin and thrust harder, your cock plunging deep into her wetness. "Cum for me, baby," you grunt. "Cum all over my cock." Seulgi's body tenses, and she lets out a cry, her face contorting and pussy clenching around you like a vice. Her orgasm washes over her, her juices flooding your cock, as she rides out her intense release. The sight of her climax pushes you over the edge. You pound into her a few more times, feeling your balls tighten as your orgasm builds. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you grit out. "I'm gonna fill that tight pussy with my load." Seulgi moans in response, encouraging you to let go. You thrust a few more times, before remembering she is still an idol. You quickly pull out, your cock throbbing as you spill your cum painting her abs and tits. Ropes after ropes of your hot cum covers her, and you grunt in satisfaction as you ride out your orgasm. Within seconds of this hot sight, Alison reaches his high as well. Holding her head in place, he gives one more deep thrust before ejaculating hard down her throat. The warm liquid fills her throat as Seulgi gags and tries to swallow everything but fails as some of it drips down her lips and chin onto the linens on the massage chair. Licking the side of her lips, she does something none of you expected, she turns slightly and dips her tongue onto the linens, cleaning up whatever cum that had spilled on it. “Damn, what a dirty slut” you said. This erotic sight that was displayed before both of you made your cocks hard again, ready and energised for round 2.

Alison wasted no time, wanting to feel her pussy this time, positioned himself on the massage table. “Ride me Seulgi” Seulgi straddled him, aligning herself with Alison’s cock, she lowered her hips patiently and felt the full length of Alison’s cock pushing through her folds. “Fuuuck” She groans in pleasure. Once she had adjusted enough to Alison’s cock, she began to ride Alison at a steady pace. You watched as she rode him, her perfect ass bouncing with each thrust. She threw her head back, moaning with pleasure as Alison filled her pussy. As she continued to ride him, you approached sneakily from behind, your cock twitching with anticipation. Suddenly, Seulgi felt your hard cock teasingly probing at her virgin asshole. “I’ve never done this before!” Seulgi said with a concerned look, wondering how she was going to fit all those 7 inches into her virgin asshole. With one hand on her back, you pushed her slightly forward, bending her down unto Alison’s body. With her ass lifted, Alison moves his hands to her ass cheeks, parting it slightly, giving you a clear view of her now exposed rosebuds. Lubing up your hard cock, you entered her tight hole slowly, feeling the tough resistance of her virgin ass enveloping your cock. Seulgi gasped at the sensation, her body tensing. "Oh fuck, it's so full." You gripped her hips, slowly pushing it inch by inch into her ass, giving her time to adjust to the feeling, until she managed to take you all the way to the base of your shaft. "Relax, baby," you whispered. "You're doing great." you whispered into her ears as you began thrusting in and out of her ass. Alison, feeling the new tightness of this position started pistoning into pussy, his hips slapping against her clit. The bed creaked with the force of your combined thrusts. As Seulgi’s breast were bouncing all over the place, you reached around, squeezing Seulgi's tits, using them as handlebars as you continued to fuck her ass. "God, she's tight," Alison grunted. "Feels so good." You spanked Seulgi's ass, leaving red handprints on her cheeks. "Take it, you dirty girl," you growled. "Take our cocks in both your holes. Seulgi cried out, the sensation overwhelming her. The feeling of being filled in both holes sent her approaching an intense orgasm. Sensing her impeding orgasm, you gripped her tits harder, and sped up fucking her ass. Meanwhile, Alison gripped Seulgi’s waist and forced her to lower herself onto his slick cock while at the same time thrusting himself up into her wanting cunt, spearing her folds. You leaned forward, nibbling on her earlobe. "That's it, baby. Cum all over our cocks.” This sent her to the edge as her lower body convulsed and trembled, clutching at Alison’s shoulder as she came hard around both of your cocks, her juices flowing.

You withdrew from her ass, sliding your cock out with a wet pop. Lifting Seulgi off Alison’s cock, you spun her around into a reverse cowgirl position now, making her face you, her eyes still sparking with lust. Alison’s cock was glistening with her juice, repositioning himself, he guided his cock towards her ass. Seulgi gasped as she felt the head push against her tight hole. She moaned as you slowly lowered her down onto Alison’s, allowing her to feel it penetration her tender walls once again. "Fuck, this ass is so tight," Alison grunted, his voice strained as he fought for control. Once, you see that Alison’s cock has completely disappeared into her ass, you guided your shaft towards her pussy, rubbing the head against her swollen folds before slipping inside. Seulgi's face contorts into a whimpering mess, her moans are now pants of inaudible words, as both of your cocks stretched her to her limits. Both of you began to move in unison, your hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. Alison's cock slid in and out of her ass, from her riding while your piston-like movements in her pussy drove her wild. You could feel Alison’s cock in her ass, pressing against your own through the thin membrane separating her holes. It was an incredible sensation, feeling her body filled to the brim. Seulgi was being fucked mercilessly; her senses overwhelmed as both of you used her body for their pleasure. As you continued fucking her, you reached forward, cupping her tits and tweaking her nipples. "Your body is so fucking perfect," “Made for our cocks’ Seulgi threw her head back, her long hair trailing down her back. Taking the opportunity, you leaned forward, your lips crashing against hers. It was a sloppy, passionate make out, your tongues tangling for dominance as you tasted each other, your hands still played with her tits, rolling her sensitive nipples between your fingers. Breaking the kiss, you trail kisses down her neck, savouring the taste of her skin. You continue lower, your mouth enveloping one of her nipples, sucking and biting gently as you twist the other peak between your fingers. Not wanting to be outdone, Alison reached around her, his hand searching for her clit. Upon finding the swollen nub. He rubbed circles around it, his fingers slick with her arousal as he thrust his balls slapping against her ass "Come on, baby, cum for us again. Let us feel that your holes clench around our cocks again," he growled as he gave her swollen nub a pinch. Seulgi's body obeyed his command. Her orgasm crashed over her, and her ass and pussy clenched around your cocks. You and Alison groaned, your own pleasure building as you felt her walls pulsate around them. Not wanting to cum just yet, you and Alison slowed your pace, taking deep breaths as you fought for control. You wanted to edge closer to the precipice, but not fall over just yet.

Withdrawing from her, you helped Seulgi move into a new position. She lay on her side, her legs drawn up, offering both her holes in a spooning position. This time you wanted her tight ass again, so you positioned yourself behind her while Alison took her front. Seulgi is once again sandwiched between the two of you as you both enter her again. This time her muscles were relaxed to accommodate your thickness. Given how slick both of your cocks and her holes were, you guys slid into her easily, filling her up again as she arched her back, pushing her ass back towards you. You both set up a steady, hard rhythm, double-penetrating Seulgi, who was squirming and moaning, her body on fire with pleasure being impaled on two hard cocks. "You like being our sexy little slut, don't you?" "Yes!" she cries, her head tossing from side to side. "I'm your slut, your dirty little toy! Make me cum, please!" Seulgi was surprised at how dirty she sounded but at this moment all she could think about was her release. You chuckled then with a mischievous grin, you reached for the bullet vibrator once again, switching it on and teasing her clit with it. She bucked her hips, her breath catching as the vibrations sent sparks of pleasure through her body. Then, you pulled out of her ass and slipped the vibrator into her tight hole before thrusting your cock back in, fucking the toy into her with your cock. Alison mirrors this action, grabbing another bullet vibrator and slipping it into her pussy, the toy disappearing instantly into her slick hole, before continuing to fuck her pussy with it. Her pussy and ass were all being used, filled and simulated and on the brink of a powerful orgasm. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum so hard! " She cried out. You felt Alison's balls slapping against Seulgi's pussy as he pounded into her, and you knew he too was close. You could hear the wet, sloppy sounds of your cocks fucking her tight holes, and the vibrations of the bullets added a whole new level of intensity. "Cum with me, sweetheart.” “Let go, I want to feel you milk us with your tight holes.” Your words send her over the edge, as Seulgi convulses, cumming harder than she had ever done before in her life. Her pussy contracts around Alison’s cock, and her ass clamps down on yours, attempting to milk you both as she orgasms. “Fill me with your cum” Seulgi begged. Not being able to hold out any longer, with one final, powerful thrust, Alison emptied his load deep inside Seulgi's pussy. His cum mixed with her juices as he filled her up, and the feeling of his hot seed pushed you over the edge. Rope after rope of your cum shot into Seulgi's ass, your cock twitching with each pulse. You felt spent, but the pleasure was overwhelming. The three of you collapsed in a heap, your sweat-covered bodies intertwined. Seulgi’s holes gaping from the intense fucking. Seulgi turned to face you, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. She kissed you deeply, tasting herself on your lips, and then turned to Jake, doing the same. The three of you lay there, catching your breath, the bullet vibrators still buzzing gently inside her. "That was the most intense thing I've ever experienced," she breathed, running her hands over her body. "I can't wait to do it again." She could see why Yeri would come here regularly, discovering how much of a freak her maknae is. Magically, every knot in her body was gone and her muscle ache had disappeared even though the past 3 hours of non-stop debauchery was an intense workout itself. “I look forward to seeing you again sweetheart” you said as you helped Seulgi wipe the remaining cum off her skin and helped her get dressed. She was one of your favourite clients, given how hot her body is.

As she walked in the door of her apartment feeling refreshed and like a new person after the massage, Yeri was waiting for her. "Well, someone looks completely renewed!" Yeri teased with a smile. “You were such a slut out there Unnie” Yeri said as she flipped her phone over, revealing that she had access to the livestream of the entire session the whole time. “YAH, KIM YERI, YOU BETTER DELETE THAT” She exclaimed, her face completely flushed in embarrassment as she hurried straight to her room. As Seulgi sank into her bed, she recalled the events that had transpired, and rubbed her clothed pussy. She could not wait for her next session with you. “A magic touch indeed” Who knows maybe she would one day even come here together with Yeri or her group for a combined session with you.

Thanks for reading my second piece. Her abs are to die for!! Will appreciate, comments likes or reblogs! Hope you guys enjoyed many words worth of smut! Request are open but I will only write request that I find interesting enough and are idols I enjoy unless you would like to commission a piece. Do check out my first piece if you havent as well! I'm so surprised it has reach 750 notes and am thankful for support. Not sure if I will release fics are regular as now as I only write when I have a motivation! Cheers

#kpop smut #kang seulgi #seulgi smut #kpop fanfic #red velvet #red velvet smut #red velvet seulgi smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #female idol x reader #m reader

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hazbinhotelxreader · 10 months ago

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Velvette x female model reader smut

“Good Job Doll~”

A/n: damn yall like these writing huh? Well I ain’t stopping you lol! I hope this was alright!

(Requested by: egg boi on AO3)

Warning: mean/soft velvette, bottom reader, fingering, rough sex, voice kink, hair tugging(light), cussing, touching bodies sexually without permission, praise kink, soft sex, eating someone out, gay sex

You were a model for velvette. Just a girl trying to make some cash, well you thought. It turns out your velvettes ‘favorite’ model. She’s always making excuses and firing her other models so your her main focus. At first you honestly thought it was just a friendship thing, but you slowly started to realize it wasn’t, it was more….sexual.

It started off with simple touches and praises, playing with your hair or touching your curves playfully, then it got more demanding. And her words sounded more sexual and suggestive. You didn’t mind it though, you kinda enjoyed the attention from the young overlord, she never failed to make you blush.

One day she came into the dressing room with you and handed you an outfit. “Try this on please darling, I need to see how absolutely stunning you’ll look in it.” She flirted lightly. She handed you a short dress that had her signature colors.

“Yes ma’am.” You obey your boss. You strip off your clothes, getting undressed in front of her was normal for all the models. Velvette was scanning and looking at every inch of your body secretly as you put the short dress on.

She walked over to you and smirked. “Oh it looks gorgeous! We have to take a picture” she said and pulled out her phone for a selfie, wrapping her arm around your waist tightly, making you blush. She takes the picture and giggled a little. “Oh you look so adorable in this picture!”

“Thank you..” you say sheepishly. She seemed to notice your nervousness and smirked.

“Oh come now dear, your gorgeous. In fact. I can show you how gorgeous you truly are~” she said seductively as she traced your breasts. You couldn’t help but blush, even if this was normal. Before you could speak up she grabbed your hips and forced you onto the vanity.

“What are you doing?” You ask Velvette, blushing intensely.

“Giving you an award for your hard work dear~” she said seductively, her accent felt so nice to hear with that tone..you didn’t try to get away or anything..you stayed there, you couldn’t help but admit you wanted it..and velvette noticed.

“Oh? You’re a good girl aren’t you? Allowing your hot, stunning boss to award you~?” Velvette smirked and started to grope your breast, causing you to let out a soft gasp in pleasure. “There we go..” Velvette smirked, and didn’t hold back. She started to kiss you hungrily, she’s been waiting for this moment for so long, and she finally had you at her mercy.

You moan and kiss back, carefully caressing her face as she did so. Velvette’s tongue forcefully entered your mouth and you moaned and closed your eyes, your tongues swirling and intertwining together. She pulled away, strands of saliva connecting your lips, and looked at your body more.

You pant at the kiss, trying to catch your breath but she started to kiss you again more tough, causing you to tug and keep a tight grasp on her hair and whimper. She chuckled lightly at the whimper, loving the soft noises you made.

She moved fast, pushing you all the way up to the vanity mirror with how much force she was using to kiss you, eventually open mouth kissing, your tongues still mixing together. She finally pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath, but not for long. She immediately got on her knees and put her head under the dress she made you put on earlier. You blush and spoke up. “U-uh what are you doing..?”

“Oh don’t worry dear..I’m just treating you with your reward..it won’t hurt..that much.” She looked up at you one last time and then went back under your dress..pulling your panties off. You blush out of embarrassment and arousal, as Velvette chuckles at your already fully aroused pussy. “Oh such a good girl..so ready for me…”

She kissed your thighs and trialed up them to your throbbing and needy cunt, you let out a whiny and needy moan, hands threatening to grasp her hair again. “Please Velvette..”. You beg.

“Call me ma’am.” She demanded before she could continue, she wanted you to still call her ma’am, it did make her feel more in control.

“Please ma’am..please..” you beg again, leaning your head against the vanity’s mirror.

“Please what?” She looked up from under the dress, smirking, she lived playing with you..she found it amusing.

“Please let me cum..please” you begged whiningly. That was enough to satisfy Velvette, as she planted her skilled mouth onto your wet and ready pussy. You let out a gasp and arch your back and hips off the vanity, hands clinging onto the vanity’s edge, you moan and forced your hips into her face more.

She moaned against your pussy, tasting your sweet nectar, it sent vibrations through you that made you shiver and moan. She used one of her hands to push your legs apart more, and the other was teasing your soaked entrance. You were left begging and pleading for her to enter you.

You gasp as she thrusted three fingers in at first into your tight little pussy. She was desperate. She has been wanting to do this for a long time to you. She thrusted in and out more roughly, but not enough to cause severe pain. You let out quiet cry’s and yelps, your eyes rolling back as she found your g-spot and hit it repeatedly with her skilled fingers. “In so close…” you whispered and panted softly.

“That’s it..be a good girl and cum for me..” veovette said, thrusting her fingers rougher and rougher. You let out a longer cry as you cum onto her fingers. She quickly licked the white liquid off of herself, and then placed her mouth on your entrance, milking out every last drop of cum. You pant. Your body quivering out of ecstasy. You opened your cloudy eyes and looked down at her. She stands up and licks her slightly cum covered face, then smirked back at you.

“Good job, doll~”

#hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #angel x husk #human reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #velvette x reader smut #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette

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velarisdusk · 3 months ago

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Cursed Flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

word count: 8k content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, rough sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), biting, oral fixation, enemies to lovers (as much lovers as I could fit into an 8k fic) | mentions of: blood, attempted murder via witch curse | strong language ] summary: When Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court, stumbles into a healer's shop under a mysterious curse, it sets off a chain of events neither could have anticipated. As the skilled healer works to unravel the dark magic threatening his life, tension and attraction crackle between them. author's note: SO EXCITED FOR YALL TO READ THIS ONE!!!!!!! i received this ask a bit ago and i couldn't wait to write it. i hope you all enjoy! as per usual, no beta, so if you see any typos no you didnt ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The shop is a warm refuge in the heart of the Autumn Court, its walls painted a calming sage green and lined with shelves filled with jars of dried herbs and roots. Sunlight filters through the tall windows, casting soft, golden light on a thick, woven rug. The scent of lavender and rosemary lingers in the air, mingling with the quiet crackle of a low fire in the hearth.

You move methodically around the shop, stocking freshly dried herbs on the shelves. Your fingers brush over the labels, ensuring everything is in its place. The rhythmic work is soothing—a welcome distraction.

Reaching up to place a jar on the top shelf, you're caught off guard when the door suddenly slams open. The force of it startles you, and you instinctively drop the pendant of your necklace from your mouth as you spin around to face the intruder.

Eris Vanserra stands in the doorway, his usually pristine appearance disheveled, his skin pale and lips tinged with an unhealthy shade of blue. He looks unwell — like something is gnawing away at him from the inside out.

“Looking a little paler than usual,” you murmur, your tone caught between concern and the dry sarcasm that usually colors your interactions with him. But even as you speak, you’re already moving toward him, instinctively assessing his condition. Grabbing your tools, you hurry to where Eris has collapsed into the armchair by the hearth.

“What happened?” you ask, scanning him for visible injuries but finding none. “When did this start?”

Eris leans back, his breathing labored, and then he coughs violently, a splatter of blood staining his hand. He looks at it with shock and frustration.

“Tell me everything,” you demand, already rifling through your supplies for anything that could help diagnose whatever this is. “What did you eat? Drink? Did you come into contact with anything unusual?”

His eyes narrow in irritation as you continue to probe. “Why does it matter? Just heal me and I’ll be on my way.”

You give him an incredulous look, stunned by the sheer stupidity of his question.

“What…? Mother above- if you want me to help, I need to know what’s causing this. Did you encounter any dark magic?”

You move to check his pulse, frowning at the erratic rhythm and his lack of response. “If you’re going to be like that, just go to your family’s healer,” you mutter, not bothering to hide your irritation. You place the back of your hand on his forehead, noting the strange combination of cool skin and unnatural heat radiating from his chest.

“Do you think I’m here because I’d like to be?” Eris snaps, coughing again, though this time with less blood.

You ignore his tone, turning your attention to the herbs and ingredients at your disposal. After a few minutes of methodically preparing and steeping the herbs, you hand him a steaming cup. “Drink this,” you instruct.

He takes the cup but eyed it skeptically. “What is it?”

“It’ll react if there’s poison in your system,” you explain, your tone firm as you watch him closely, waiting.

He lifts the cup reluctantly, sipping as you hover your hands over his chest, closing your eyes to focus on sensing any magical disturbances. “Why can’t you see your family’s healer?” you ask, murmuring a chant under your breath as you work.

“He’s busy,” Eris replies tightly, though his expression suggests there’s more to the story.

You press your lips together as you complete your chant, waiting for any sign of magic—an aura, a pulse of energy, anything. But there’s nothing. Frustration wells up, and you move to the shelves, selecting a vial of a potent potion that reveals the presence of dark spells. You hand it to him, but before you can tell him to wait, he lifts the vial to his lips.

“Wait—” you start, but it’s too late. He drinks the contents of the vial, grimacing at the taste as he swallows.

The dark tendrils of the potion begin to swirl beneath his skin, their movement barely noticeable through the fabric of his shirt. Panic surges through you, and without thinking, you reach forward and rip open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere.

Eris recoils slightly, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “Do you have any idea how much that shirt costs? More than you make in a month, I’d wager.”

You shoot him a sharp glare, not bothering to hide your exasperation. “Definitely not as much as making that potion cost me,” you retort, focusing on the dark tendrils now clearly visible beneath his skin. The potion is reacting to something, though it’s still not enough to fully reveal what’s wrong.

Eris glares at you, but before he can respond, another wave of pain hits him, forcing a troubling series of coughs out of him. This time, blood stains his lips, and the dark tendrils pulse ominously with the movement.

Ignoring his earlier complaint, you press your hand against his chest, feeling the unnatural heat beneath your fingertips. The tendrils shift and twist just beneath the surface of his skin as if something dark is trying to break free. “Are you usually this hot?” you murmur, more to yourself than to him, as you watch the tendrils fade back into nothingness.

Eris’s lips curve into a smirk, despite his condition. “I wasn’t aware you found me so irresistible,” he drawls, his tone laced with that familiar cocky arrogance.

You roll your eyes, not even dignifying his comment with a response, refocusing on the task at hand.

With a sigh, you grab the vial from him and set it aside, biting your thumbnail as you wrack your brain for ideas. You decide to turn to a more traditional method. “Stand up,” you instruct, grabbing a fresh egg from a small basket. Eris raises an eyebrow, but you don’t give him a chance to question it. “I’m going to perform an egg cleanse. It’s an old method, but it’s effective for detecting curses.”

He complies, albeit reluctantly, standing from the chair. You glance up at him, realizing you can’t quite reach the top of his head. “Bend your knees a bit. I can’t reach that high.”

Eris smirks, but obliges, lowering himself slightly so you can reach the crown of his head. You begin by holding the egg just above his scalp, moving it slowly around the top of his head and down his neck. You notice his jaw clench, the muscles tightening under your careful movements.

You continue to work your way down, the egg warming slightly in your hand as it absorbs the negative energy. The air feels thick with tension as you move the egg over his shoulders and bare chest, noticing how he tenses when you pass it over his thighs. His body reacts subtly, with a slight shift in posture, a clenching of his fist at his side, as if he’s fighting to keep his composure.

“Anything yet?” Eris presses, his tone light, almost as if he’s making conversation, but you can hear the underlying tension. “Or are you just playing with eggs for fun?”

“Hold still,” you mutter, ignoring his jab as you complete the cleanse. When you reach his feet, you pause, feeling the unsettling energy still clinging to the egg in your hand. You ask him to lift each foot slightly so you can pass the egg underneath. He does so with a small huff of annoyance, muttering something you couldn’t bother yourself to care about.

Finally, you finish the cleanse, bringing the egg back up to his head and closing the circle. The egg feels heavier in your hand now, almost throbbing with the energy it’s absorbed. You step back, holding the egg up to the light, examining it carefully.

“What are you seeing?” he asks, his voice steady, but you catch the edge of something beneath the calm facade. “What’s wrong?”

With a frown, you walk to the counter, grab a glass, and fill it with water. Eris watches you, curiosity and impatience on his face as you crack the egg into the glass.

The moment the shell breaks, your breath catches in your throat as the realization hits you like a physical blow. The web-like structures forming in the egg’s whites, the dark red blood swirling through the yolk—they aren’t just signs of any curse. They’re markers, symbols that reveal the curse’s origin. A curse that dark, that potent, could only come from someone with a deep, intimate connection to the target. Someone who shares his blood.

Eris leans over your shoulder, his eyes narrowing at the sight. “That’s not normal, is it?” he asks, his tone still deceptively casual, but you can hear the sharp edge of concern creeping into his voice.

You shake your head slowly, staring at the cursed egg. “No,” you reply, your voice low and tense. “Eris,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly as the weight of your discovery settles in. “This… this isn’t just any curse. It was arranged by someone who’s tied to you by blood. They must have paid a witch to curse you.”

His eyes widen, the casual facade slipping as your words sink in. He straightens, stepping back as if physically recoiling from the truth. For a moment, he’s silent, his usually sharp mind racing to process what you’ve just told him. But the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clench into fists, betrays the anger simmering beneath the surface.

“One of my brothers,” he murmurs, his voice low and deadly. There’s no question in his tone, only cold, calculated fury. The possibility of betrayal from within his own bloodline cuts deep, and you can see it in the way his expression darkens, in the way his shoulders stiffen as if preparing for battle.

You nod slowly, still staring at the cursed egg, your mind racing as you try to make sense of it all. “Whoever did this didn’t just want to hurt you—the curse is meant to kill, Eris.”

His gaze flickers back to you, and for a brief moment, you see something vulnerable in his eyes, something raw and unguarded. But then it’s gone, replaced by the cold determination that you’ve come to expect from him.

As you stare at the cursed egg’s results, frustration and determination mix in your mind. You need to figure out where the curse is coming from. “Wait here,” you tell him, already moving towards the shelves.

You start rummaging through your collection of enchanted tools and artifacts. You pull out a magnifying glass with runes etched into its frame—designed to detect magical auras. With it, you examine the egg’s remnants, trying to find any additional clues. Still focused, you then grab a small jar of salt, used for creating protective circles, and a vial of basic anti-magic tincture.

You hold the magnifying glass over Eris’s body, carefully examining for any magical disturbances. The glass shows a faint, dark aura around his entire form, but it’s still unclear where the source is. The salt is meant to amplify magical reactions, so you grab the jar and sprinkle some in a protective circle around him. As you observe, the dark aura becomes more pronounced, shifting and swirling. Still, it’s not pinpointed enough to identify the exact source of the curse.

You then use the anti-magic tincture, dabbing it on various parts of him: his hands, shoulders, his ankles, and on his clothing. The tincture reacts, but again, it does not specify where the curse is anchored. You decide to turn to a more direct method.

You remove one of the rings from Eris’s hand, placing it on a small tray before examining it closely with the magnifying glass. The ring is stunning, with a polished tiger’s eye stone that seems to capture and reflect the light with every movement. The stone is set in intricately crafted silver, engraved with delicate, swirling patterns reminiscent of flames. It’s a ring befitting Eris Vanserra—elegant yet undeniably powerful. This time, you notice the dark tendrils of magic intensify around the ring, more clearly than on the other items.

“This ring,” you say, realization dawning as you see the dark magic swirling more intensely, “Have you given it to anyone lately?”

Eris’s brows furrow in confusion. “No, why would I do that? It’s one of my favorites.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms and biting your lip in thought. “Are you sure? Any recent changes, anyone who might have had access to it?”

He hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. “I—well, I didn’t give it to anyone, but…” He sighs, sitting back down and looking down at the ring. “I woke up one morning and found it missing from my jewelry box. I only found it a few days later, yesterday, under the dresser.”

You nod, your mind racing with the implications. “That’s significant. The timing fits with when the curse seems to have taken hold. It’s likely that someone who knew about the ring might have tampered with it.” Eris’s expression darkens, and he clenches his jaw.

You give him a sympathetic look. “Luckily, it seems whoever cast this curse used extremely rudimentary techniques. I should be able to take care of it relatively easily… Go lie down in the back room,” you tell him, pointing at the door behind the front counter. “I’ll be there in a bit with what I need to start the healing process.”

Eris nods and heads to the back room, his demeanor more subdued now. As he disappears behind the door, you turn back to the counter, gathering the rest of your supplies. The task ahead is daunting, but you’re determined to see it through.

As he disappears into the back room, you take a deep breath, centering yourself as you gather the necessary items for the healing process. Your mind is consumed with the details of what you need, and you absentmindedly reach for a pen from the counter, sliding the end of it between your lips as you think through your list—cleansing herbs, protective talismans, and special antidotes to counteract the curse. You pull out a small wooden box and start preparing the mixtures, setting out vials and jars with practiced ease.

You move through the shop, grabbing the fresh batch of herbs and an old family recipe for a purification salve. As you’re about to head to the back room, you pause, realizing you need one more item. You hastily grab a small vial of enchanted water, known for its potency in breaking curses.

With everything in hand, you head towards the back room, your nerves steeling for the task ahead. You open the door and step inside, where Eris is lying on the sofa, looking more subdued and less defiant.

“Alright,” you say, laying out the items on a nearby table. “I need you to strip, so I can massage the salve into your skin.”

Eris raises an eyebrow, his posture relaxed despite his condition. He lounges on the plush sofa, the luxurious fabric seeming to contrast sharply with his unwell state. He is draped elegantly over the cushions, looking effortlessly refined even in his weakened state. “Are you always so forward with your clients?” he asks, a lazy, yet sardonic smile playing on his lips.

You shoot him a wry smile. “Only the ones who show up at my door covered in curses. I promise, I’ll try to keep it as professional as possible.”

Eris arches an eyebrow, glancing down at his torn shirt before meeting your eyes with a smirk. “I’ll be curious to see just how ‘professional’ you manage to be, given the state of my shirt.”

“I suppose my attempt at professionalism might seem a bit questionable after that,” you respond, trying to match his playful tone. “But given the circumstances, I promise to keep my focus on getting you sorted out.”

Eris smirks, clearly entertained by your response. “I’ll hold you to that,” he replies, making no move to cover up as he removes his shirt. He casually kicks off his boots and slips out of his pants. He starts to remove his underwear, but you quickly hold up a hand, a hint of discomfort in your voice.

“Uh, you can keep those on,” you say, your tone awkward. “I really don’t need to see more of you than I already have.”

Eris raises an eyebrow but complies, lying back on the sofa in his remaining attire. He stretches out, his posture relaxed despite his state.

You try to maintain your composure as you prepare to apply the salve, aware of the subtle flush on your cheeks at the sight of him.

You take the salve and begin applying it to his skin, your hands gliding over the thick, soothing mixture. The salve is warm and slightly sticky, and you work it into his flesh with careful, deliberate strokes. His skin is pale and warm under your touch, marked with faint, livid lines where the curse has taken hold. Despite his condition, his muscles are firm and well-defined.

You try to focus on the task, but the proximity and the intimate nature of your work make your cheeks flush. Your hands move methodically, spreading the salve evenly over his torso, smoothing it into every defined contour. The tension in the room is almost tangible, and you do your best to maintain your composure, concentrating on the rhythm of your movements.

After a few minutes, you glance up at Eris, only to find him watching you with a smirk. You assume he’s noticed your nervousness and it makes your blush deepen, feeling the heat spread across your cheeks.

You hum as if asking “What?”, but it comes out a bit strained.

Eris chuckles softly, the sound low and knowing. “What’s the pendant on your necklace?”

You pause, momentarily distracted by his question. You glance down at the pendant but realize you’ve been toying with it between your teeth. You drop it, a sleek piece of black tourmaline set in a delicate silver setting. It catches the light, its dark, glossy surface reflecting an eerie, protective shimmer. “It’s black tourmaline,” you explain, trying to keep your voice steady as you wipe your hand on the skirt of your dress. “It’s known for protection.”

You reach up and carefully open the locket, revealing a small, intricately illustrated image nestled inside. The illustration depicts you and a scruffy little dog, your faces pressed close together. His warm brown eyes are visible, reflecting the affection between you. The artist’s delicate strokes bring out the softness and warmth of the scene, with a gentle, glowing quality.

“Here,” you say, offering the locket for Eris to see. “That’s my dog, Cedar. He’s my best friend.”

Eris glances at the illustration and raises an eyebrow. “Cute dog,” he remarks, his voice softening slightly. He takes a moment to admire it before you close the locket and turn your attention back to the task at hand.

You resume applying the salve, your hands moving carefully over his thighs. Your proximity is close, and you can’t help but be aware of the intimate nature of the task.

Eris breaks the silence, his tone is casual yet curious. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a dog person. What’s he like?”

You continue working the salve into his skin, your hands deftly spreading it. “Cedar? He’s a little bundle of energy. Loves to play and is always up for an adventure. Not very fond of arrogant redheads.”

Eris chuckles softly. “Sounds like quite a character. I’ve got a few ghost hounds myself. Jasper’s the mischievous one, Ember’s more reserved but loyal, and Thorne... well, he’s a bit of a troublemaker. They each have their own quirks, but they’re a handful.” He smiles faintly, a hint of fondness in his eyes.

You nod, trying to focus on the salve while managing the awkward proximity. “Sounds like they’re quite a pack.”

Eris’s eyes twinkle with a mixture of amusement and affection as he regards you. “They are. All twelve of them.”

You clear your throat, doing your best to shake off the distraction of Eris’s body under your hands. “Twelve? That’s… quite a lot,” you manage to say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how flustered you are.

Eris gives a small, almost smug nod. “They’re quite the company.”

You force a small smile, quickly refocusing on the task at hand before your scent gives you away. “Alright, I need you to flip over so I can get your back,” you instruct, your voice steadier now.

Eris moves with a grace that belies the curse’s toll, turning onto his stomach. As he settles, you catch yourself marveling at the expanse of his back, the way his muscles shift beneath his skin. You work the salve into his skin, starting at his shoulders and moving downward. Your fingers glide over the planes of his back, kneading the thick mixture into his skin with slow, deliberate motions.

When you reach his lower back, you can’t help but notice how firm and tight his muscles are. You swallow hard, trying to focus on the task and not on how ridiculously sculpted he is. This close, his scent—woodsy and warm, with a hint of spice—mixes with the herbs of the salve, creating an intoxicating blend that makes your heart race.

With the salve fully applied, you stand and step back, wiping your hands on a cloth. You retrieve the small vial of enchanted water from your supplies. The liquid inside shimmers faintly, a sign of its potency.

You kneel beside Eris and unstopper the vial, letting a few drops spill into your palm. “This will help neutralize any residual dark magic,” you explain, mostly to fill the silence as you pour the water into your hands. It’s cool to the touch, sending a slight tingle through your fingers.

Gently, you begin to rub the enchanted water into his skin, starting at his shoulders and moving downward again. You feel a faint warmth where the water touches his skin, a sign that the curse is reacting to the cleansing magic. You mutter a soft incantation under your breath as you work, tracing the lines of his muscles with your fingertips to ensure the water reaches every part of him.

Eris lies still beneath you, but you can sense his awareness of your every move. The tension between you is palpable, like a coiled spring waiting to snap. But you focus on your work, pushing aside the awkwardness.

You clear your throat softly. “Flip back over. I need to do your front.”

Eris obliges, rolling onto his back again. As you begin to apply the enchanted water to his chest, your hands instinctively move in slow, deliberate circles. The cool liquid glides over the hard planes of his abs and pecs, and you find yourself distracted by the feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips. His skin is smooth, marred only by the faint, dark lines of the curse, but the tautness of his body is impossible to ignore.

Your thoughts begin to wander, unbidden. The definition of his abs under your touch, the way his chest rises and falls steadily with each breath, the heat radiating from him despite the coolness of the water—all of it feels too intimate, too close. You lose yourself in the rhythm of the massage, each movement deliberate, but tinged with an awareness you wish you could ignore.

When you finally finish applying the water, you take a step back and wipe your hands again. “That should do it,” you say, though your voice comes out softer than you intended. “Now we just need to give it time to work.”

Eris slowly sits up, his movements careful and deliberate. He glances at you, and for a moment, his usual guarded expression softens. "Thank you," he says quietly, the words carrying a weight that surprises you.

You nod, unsure of how to respond to the sudden shift in his demeanor. "Just... make sure you rest. The curse should start breaking down now, but you'll need time to recover-"

Eris cuts you off, his tone turning teasing as he leans forward. "You always seem to be keeping that mouth of yours busy, don't you?"

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden comment. "Excuse me?"

His gaze drops pointedly to your hand, and it's only then that you realize your thumbnail is between your teeth. You quickly pull it away, trying to mask your embarrassment with a frown. "I wasn't-"

"Oh, you were," he interrupts, the smirk playing on his lips growing. "First your necklace, now your nails. And don't think I didn't notice you biting your lip earlier. Tell me, is this a nervous habit or something else?"

You huff, the irritation building slowly. "It's nothing. Just a habit, alright?"

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he's dissecting your every move. "A habit, hmm? Interesting."

You roll your eyes, exasperation creeping into your tone. "Look, it's really none of your business. I just did you a favor, saving your life; can't you drop the smart remarks for once?"

Eris's smirk doesn't waver. "A favor? Let's not pretend you didn't enjoy getting your hands all over me," he says, his voice dripping with mockery. "You were practically drooling over me."

Your face burns, and you take a step forward, anger and embarrassment now battling for dominance. "I was doing my job, Eris. If I took any extra care, it was because I had to-your life was in my hands, not because I wanted to."

He arches an eyebrow, clearly amused by your rising frustration. "So you admit you were being thorough."

You let out a frustrated breath, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. "You're insufferable, you know that? Not everything is about you."

His voice drops to a low, teasing whisper. “If it’s just a job, then why do you look like you’ve been caught red-handed?”

Your eyes widen at his insinuation, and you struggle to find a retort, feeling both flustered and infuriated by his smugness.

Your heart skips a beat at the intensity in his gaze, the raw challenge in his words. "What does it matter to you?" you snap back, though your voice falters, the heat of the moment starting to overwhelm you. "You're just trying to get under my skin."

Eris's gaze flickers to your lips, and you feel the air between you grow heavy, charged with an undeniable tension. "Maybe I am," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Or maybe I'm just waiting for you to admit you want this as much as I do."

Your breath catches, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you, the magnetic pull between you impossible to ignore. You shake your head, trying to maintain your composure despite the heat in your cheeks. "You don't really want this," you retort, your voice coming out more uncertain than you intended.

Eris's smirk widens, and he stands impossibly close to you, his eyes dark with intensity. "Oh, but I do."

You meet his gaze, feeling a surge of defiance and desire. "Prove it," you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper.

Eris responds to your challenge with a fierce intensity. He closes the space between you with a sudden, forceful kiss that takes your breath away. His lips crash against yours, and the kiss is a wild, heated clash of desire and frustration.

Your lips meet with a ferocity that makes your head spin, his hands gripping your face as if he's afraid you might pull away. His mouth moves against yours with a demanding urgency, his tongue pushing past your lips to tangle with yours. The kiss is rough, almost desperate, as if he's trying to prove something with every touch.

You feel his teeth nip at your lower lip, sharp and insistent, and the sudden spark of pain only intensifies the heat between you. Your hands find their way to his hair, gripping it tightly and pulling him closer if possible, as if trying to merge your bodies together.

Eris's fingers tangle in your hair, his grip firm as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss. His movements are driven by a raw, unrestrained need, and you can feel his breath come in ragged gasps against your skin. Each touch, each movement is a battle, a clash of passion and frustration.

You respond in kind, your own fingers digging into his scalp, your nails scratching lightly as you try to keep up with the fierce pace he sets. The kiss is a war of wills, a struggle for dominance that leaves you both breathless and hungry for more.

Finally, the intensity of the kiss subsides, but only slightly. You pull away just enough to look into each other's eyes, both of you panting heavily, faces flushed. The moment is charged with an electric tension, a mix of anger and desire that hangs in the air between you.

Eris's eyes are dark and intense as he stares at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Is that proof enough?" he asks, his voice low and rough.

Your lips slam into his again, and you press your body against his with a forceful urgency, your hands roaming over his bare torso. Eris’s initial surprise quickly turns into fervor. His hands move over your back and sides, his touch rough but deliberate. His fingers brush along the fabric of your dress, tugging it slightly as he pulls you closer. His hands glide over your waist, up your sides, and finally settle at the small of your back, pulling you so close that there’s no space left between your bodies. Your hands explore his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his smooth skin, and you can’t help but dig your nails in slightly, relishing the shudder that ripples through him.

“You’re such a pain,” you murmur against his lips, your voice breathy but laced with irritation. “Always so arrogant, thinking everyone wants you.”

Eris’s response is a low growl, his lips curving into a wicked smile as he pulls back just enough to look at you. “And yet here you were, begging me to strip under the guise of helping me. I guess my arrogance isn’t so misplaced after all.”

Your retort is immediate, biting. “Guise? I did help you, don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about you—it’s about shutting you up.” You punctuate your words by biting down on his lower lip, hard enough to make him hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure.

He chuckles, the sound low and mocking. “Is that what you’re telling yourself? That this is just about shutting me up?” His grip on your hips tightens, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “Keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night. But we both know you’re enjoying this.”

You shove him back slightly, just enough to regain some space, your chest heaving with both desire and defiance. “You’re delusional. If anything, I’m doing this to prove you wrong.” But even as you say it, your hands are already trailing lower, brushing over the hard lines of his abdomen, testing his resolve.

Eris’s smirk never falters. “Keep telling yourself that,” he says, his voice thick with lust and challenge. “But we both know the truth—you can’t resist me any more than I can resist you.”

“Resist?” You scoff, though your voice wavers with the intensity of the moment. “Who said anything about resisting? Maybe I’m just enjoying the moment before I throw you out.”

His eyes darken further, a primal edge sharpening his features. “You talk a big game, but I can feel how much you’re into this.” His hand slides up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress’s long skirt aside with forceful impatience. “Or do you want me to stop and see if you beg?”

You meet his challenge head-on, your eyes blazing. “Beg? I’d rather die.”

He grins, his teeth flashing in the dim light as his hand continues its relentless exploration. “We’ll see.”

With that, he kisses you again, the force of it pushing you both back until you’re pinned against the wall, his body pressing into yours with an intensity that makes your head spin. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling hard, and he groans into your mouth, his own grip on you tightening as the need between you becomes impossible to ignore.

"You're insufferable," you hiss, though your fingers are still digging into his skin, still trailing over the hard lines of his chest.

Eris’s mouth swallows your frustrated words. “Then shut me up,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with challenge.

You take the bait, pulling him closer as you bite down on his lip again, harder this time, drawing a low groan from him. His hands slip under your dress, the roughness of his touch sending a shiver up your spine. “That all you’ve got?” he taunts, his voice ragged.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes locked with his in a heated stare. “I can do a lot more than that,” you shoot back, your voice dripping with defiance.

“Prove it,” he snarls, his hands tightening on your hips as if daring you to push the boundaries further.

Your gaze never wavers from his as you slowly begin to sink to your knees in front of him. Eris's breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening with a mix of surprise and something else, something far more primal.

“Careful,” he warns, though there’s a rough edge to his voice that betrays his anticipation. “You might find yourself in over your head.”

You smirk, defiant as ever. “I’m sure I can handle you,” you say, your voice low and challenging as you settle in front of him, pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock. It springs up, slapping against his skin. Eris's breath catches again, this time more audibly, as your fingers wrap around him, the warmth of your touch eliciting a shudder from him. For a moment, the air between you is charged, thick with tension. His fiery gaze locks onto yours, his usual cool demeanor cracking just enough to reveal the raw desire simmering beneath the surface.

“Is that so?” His voice is a rasp, heavy with lust, yet there's still a trace of his usual arrogance, as if he’s not entirely convinced you know what you’re getting into. His hand slides into your hair, not quite a caress but not entirely a threat either.

You look up at him through your lashes, your smirk never fading as you lean in, the tip of your tongue teasing the sensitive head of his cock. Eris's grip tightens involuntarily, and you feel a surge of satisfaction at the way his control is already starting to slip.

“Keep pushing me, and I won’t be able to stop myself,” he growls. But you don’t intend to stop. You want to see him unravel, to take him apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left of his carefully constructed composure. Your mouth closes around him, taking him deeper, your movements slow, savoring the way he swears under his breath, his hips jerking slightly as if he can’t help but respond to the pleasure you’re giving him.

“Fuck,” he mutters and braces his hand against the wall as you cup his balls. The last of his restraint frays as you take him deeper, the heat of your mouth and the slick glide of your tongue driving him mad with pleasure.

His dominance, his ever-present need to be in control, is slipping through his fingers, and you can see it in the way his eyes flutter shut, in the way his head tips back, exposing the strong line of his throat. You’re pushing him closer and closer to the brink, and the power you feel at this moment is intoxicating, heady, and utterly addictive.

His hand tightens in your hair, and just as you feel like you’ve taken control, he pulls you back with a sudden, forceful yank. The motion is swift, leaving you gasping as he tilts your head up, pressing it back against the wall. His eyes, dark and wild, lock onto yours, and you can see the moment he decides to take the power back.

Without a word, he thrusts forward, his cock pushing past your lips in a smooth, deliberate motion, filling your mouth completely. The sensation is overwhelming—the taste of him, the pressure, the way his hips move with a raw, unrestrained need. He’s no longer holding back, no longer letting you lead.

His hand in your hair tightens even more, holding you firmly in place as he begins to fuck your mouth, each thrust rougher, more demanding than the last. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s fighting to maintain some semblance of control, but it’s slipping fast, and you know you’re the one driving him to this point.

“Is this what you needed?” he growls, his voice rough with the thrill of dominance. “Always biting your nails, playing with that necklace... I knew you needed something more to keep that mouth of yours busy.”

His words send a jolt of heat through you, the dark thrill only intensifying your desire. You try to nod, but his grip holds you in place, his cock filling your mouth completely, muffling any response you could give. The way he’s watching you, eyes narrowed, intense, tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Tell me,” he demands, thrusting deeper, his voice low and laced with a dark satisfaction. “You like this better, don’t you? Better than biting down on that lip of yours? You’d rather be sucking my cock, wouldn’t you?”

The words, the sheer audacity of his tone, make you whimper around him, the sound vibrating through your throat, and his grip tightens almost possessively in response. His thrusts become more erratic, each one pushing you closer to the edge, the friction, the heat building between you until it’s all-consuming.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of mockery and admiration. “So desperate to keep your mouth busy. Is this what you’ve been wanting all along? Something to fill that pretty little mouth, something to keep you from biting down so hard?”

You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, and the way he shudders makes you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’re pushing him right to the edge, and he knows it, the way his hips snap forward betraying how close he is to losing control entirely.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice cracking with the intensity of it all. “You feel so fucking good—taking me so well. Just like that. Keep going, and I’ll make sure you never have to worry about looking for something to occupy that pretty little mouth with ever again.”

His words send you spiraling, your own desire mounting as you submit to his dominance. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, the desperation in his movements telling you just how close he is to unraveling completely. His grip on your hair is almost punishing, but the way he’s losing himself in you is worth every second of it.

“Do you like this?” he taunts, his voice low and rough. “Better than anything else you’ve ever had between those lips?”

And just as you sense he’s about to tip over the edge, he pulls back, panting heavily, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and lust as he tries to regain control. But it’s too late—he’s already there, the pleasure too overwhelming to stop. With a low, guttural groan, he wraps his hand around his slick cock as he strokes himself to completion.

His hips jerk as he comes, hot and thick, painting your lips and tongue with his release. The taste of him floods your senses, salty and rich, and you can’t help but savor it, holding his gaze as you swallow every last drop. The look on his face is pure, unrestrained satisfaction, but there’s still that edge of frustration, like he’s not quite finished with you yet.

Before you can react, he hauls you to your feet, his grip firm, almost possessive. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches out, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth, gathering the last traces of his release. The movement is deliberate, his expression dark and unreadable as he holds his thumb in front of your lips.

“Open,” he commands, his voice rough, and without hesitation, you part your lips, sucking his thumb clean. The taste of him lingers on your tongue, and the way his eyes darken tells you he’s watching every second, every subtle movement.

His thumb slides free from your mouth, and for a moment, there’s a heavy silence between you, charged with the aftermath of what just happened and the unspoken promise of what’s to come next. Eris’s chest heaves with each breath, but the hunger in his eyes hasn’t dimmed. If anything, it’s only grown stronger, the intensity between you far from spent.

Eris’s hands find the laces on the back of your dress, his fingers deft as he begins to undo them, each tug of the fabric sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. His breath is still heavy, uneven, but there's a renewed focus in his movements, a meticulousness that makes your pulse quicken. The dress loosens gradually, the cool air hitting your skin as he exposes more and more of you, and the sensation of his fingers grazing your back is maddening.

You can take in the sight of him now—bare, unrestrained, his usual elegance stripped away—it sends a jolt of desire through you. But before you can revel in it, his hands are on you again, rougher this time, pulling the dress down your body until it pools at your feet.

His eyes drink you in, taking in every inch of your now-exposed skin, and the way he looks at you makes your breath hitch. There’s something almost reverent in his gaze, but it’s laced with a hunger that promises he’s far from done with you. He steps closer, and the heat radiating off him is palpable, his chest brushing against yours as he reaches down between your bodies, his hand yanking your underwear down and finding its way to your core.

Your hand slips between you, stroking him, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. His fingers slide against you, a delicious friction that makes you gasp, your grip on him tightening reflexively in response. His eyes are half-lidded as he reaches behind you to undo the clasps of your bra, focused entirely on the way your body responds to him, and it sends a shiver down your spine. It’s a reminder that despite the edge you’d gained, he’s still every bit as dangerous, every bit as intoxicating.

With a growl, Eris suddenly lifts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he presses you back against the wall. The cool surface contrasts sharply with the heat of his body, and the sensation is almost overwhelming, his hard length brushing against your inner thigh, teasing, tormenting. You can feel the tension in his muscles, the barely restrained need as he grinds against you, his hand still between your legs, stoking the fire that’s been burning between you both from the start.

And then, with a swift, powerful thrust, he’s inside you, and everything else falls away—the tension, the teasing, the power struggle—until all that’s left is the raw, unrelenting desire that neither of you can deny any longer. He’s relentless, driving into you with a raw, primal need that matches your own, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. The sound of your bodies colliding, the wet slide of him inside you, fills the room, mingling with the ragged breaths and low moans you can’t suppress.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growls against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he bites down just hard enough to make you gasp, the pain mingling with the pleasure in a way that only intensifies the sensation. His voice is rough, laced with a dark satisfaction as if he’s finally giving you what you’ve been daring him to unleash. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” you snap back, but your voice comes out breathless, betraying how much you’re already unraveling. His words send a thrill through you, the taunting, the edge of danger in his tone only making you want him more. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving marks on his skin as you try to meet his thrusts, the pressure building inside you almost unbearable.

He smirks against your throat, his breath hot and uneven. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your pulse point before he bites down again, harder this time. “You want me to break you, don’t you?”

Your hands fist in his hair, yanking his head back so you can meet his gaze, the defiance in your eyes only fueling the fire between you. “Shut up,” you hiss, your voice trembling with the force of your impending release.

A dark chuckle escapes him, and he slams into you harder, the movement sending you both crashing further into the abyss of sensation. Each thrust drives you higher, the pressure in your core building, threatening to shatter you into a million pieces. His movements are wild, erratic, and yet there’s a precision to them, a calculated determination to make you lose control before he does. But you’re not about to give in easily, not when the taste of victory is so close.

“Faster,” you demand, your voice edged with desperation, and the way his eyes flash with something primal tells you he’s just as close to the edge as you are.

He obliges, his pace becoming almost brutal as he pounds into you, the sound of your name falling from his lips like a curse, like a prayer. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice cracking with the intensity of it all. “I’m going to ruin you.”

“I’m sure you’d love to,” you manage to choke out, but the words are barely coherent, your mind a haze of pleasure as he drives you closer and closer to oblivion.

And then he reaches down, his thumb finding your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling. The sudden, overwhelming sensation makes you cry out, your body arching against him as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in bliss.

Eris isn’t far behind, the feeling of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge. He buries himself deep inside you, his own release ripping through him with a ferocity that leaves him shaking, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he finds his own release, the tension that’s been coiled so tightly between you finally snapping.

For a moment, neither of you moves, the only sound in the room is ragged breathing as you both come down from the high. His forehead rests against yours, his breath hot against your lips, and for a fleeting moment, the war between you seems to fade, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection that this moment has forged.

But it’s only a moment.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” you murmur, your voice still breathless but laced with that familiar defiance.

Eris chuckles softly, the sound a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, though there’s a softness to his voice that wasn’t there before, a hint of something more beneath the layers of antagonism.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader smut #eris vanserra smut #acotar smut #acotar #acotar fanfic

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stevie-petey · 4 months ago

Text

episode eight: the battle of starcourt

He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?” You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.” “I can sleep right now and find out–” “I will flick you again.” “A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

Summary: jonathan becomes a certified surgeon, hopper returns and is oddly sentimental (wonder what that could mean !), you and dustin show off your musical theater talents, the mind flayer becomes a track star, fireworks become weapons, and really a lot just happens so suddenly it gives you whiplash. dont worry though, the rest of your summer involves painful goodbyes and the scary realization that youre growing up. absolutely disgusting. but at least steve gets to kiss you whenever now, so hooray for that ! side note: you keep making promises to people, surely there wont be narrative foreshadowing as a result !

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: blood, swearing, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 21.2k (ouch)

Before you swing in: this was my magnum opus. truly. so so so much happens in this chapter, this episode is INSANE. it took me a while, the scenes were hard and complex, but im happy with the final results :) ive been waiting a long time to write this ending, to set up the strings for later in season 4 <3 i sincerely hope this chapter is all yall have wanted. if theres any glaring typos, pls ignore because its 21.2k words and im weak from rereading it. anyways, i have a sneaky lil link right here that will make sense at the end of the chapter (spoiler alert: it's a mixtape jonathan makes for bug). enjoy !

El’s screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. It’s unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart.

No one knows what to do.

Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with El’s. Take away her pain somehow. But you won’t let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive El’s panic further.

“What is that?” Disgust litters Erica’s face as she stares at the moving creature within El’s leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe.

“There’s something in her leg,” Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. He’s furious, he’s overwhelmed, he just wants to help. “Let go!”

Your arms tighten around the boy. He isn’t in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. “Jonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.” He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. “Grab it.”

Jonathan jumps at the command and his hand disappears behind you. You feel him find the weapon and pull it out. He holds it in front of you, offering it, but you don’t accept it. “Go and disinfect it. There’s a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we can–” you swallow as nausea fills you. “We–we have to cut it out of her leg.”

The moment Jonathan is gone, you turn your attention to Mike and Steve. You try to keep your voice leveled, try to contain the blinding panic that screams in your head. El needs you right now. Swallowing again, you start to speak to them. “I need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.”

“Right, okay.” Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. “Hey, stay awake, okay?”

You tug Steve towards El’s legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. “Get her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.”

Both boys do as they’re told. Everyone watches, and Robin tries to make light of the situation. She rambles about a girl from her soccer team who once broke her leg. How the bone had ripped clean through her skin. The story makes you shiver, and Steve sees the discomfort. “Robin, hey. You’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan returns, out of breath. “Okay. Alright, El?” He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”

El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. “Sweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.”

“I’ll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,” Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. “You’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?”

Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for what’s about to come. Kneeling next to her, you angle your body over hers and pin her arms down with your hands. You look at Mike, ordering him to do the same. “Hold her shoulders. Don’t let her go, no matter what.”

He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. “Do it.”

“Okay,” Jonathan inhales. The knife you’ve given him shakes as he holds it over El’s wound. He’s fucking terrified, but he knows it’s the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and El’s screams tear from her chest.

Everyone makes a sound of disgust and horror. Your own stomach lurches at the sight of Jonathan cutting into the leg. The image, the way El’s body convulses, the screams she releases, it’s all too much. You don’t feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you.

“Thank you,” your breathing is shaky. You aren’t even sure if he’s heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. He’s doing whatever he can to help, being the solid surface you need to lean upon. Lending you the strength you need to hold El down and save her.

You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by El’s scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at what’s happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathan’s fingers are now in El’s leg, digging underneath the flesh and muscle to find whatever the hell is in there. A horrible squelching sound fills the air. Faintly you think you can hear Will crying behind you.

Jonathan struggles, digs deeper into the leg, but it only seems to be making everything worse. El twists and contorts beneath you, in agonizing pain. Her screams only intensify. A tear from your eye lands on her shirt, and you force yourself to hold her down despite how desperately you want to end it.

“Goddamn it!” Jonathan can’t find it. He can’t find whatever the hell is in El’s leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood.

“No!” El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. “Stop it!”

You can’t stomach her pain any longer. The moment she pleads for it to stop, you move off of El and push Jonathan away from her. Nancy helps, touches his shoulder to alert him as well. The moment she has the room to, El sits herself up. “I can do it.

“Do what, El?” You ask, though you think you know anyways.

She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. She’s sitting down, one of her knees is pressed against her chest. The injured leg remains flat on the ground, her hand outstretched above it. Static, the one you always feel when El uses her powers, surrounds you. There’s a low hum, she grunts and screams, and yet her hand remains steady. You rub her back, offering her all the strength you can give her, in awe despite the poor timing of it.

To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You can’t imagine it.

El releases one final long, harrowing scream. The lights flicker, the windows behind you rattle violently. You only just barely manage to cover Dustin and the kids from the shards of glass before they explode. At the same time, a small, writhing creature shoots from El’s leg. It stalls in the air, hovering in front of her face as she continues to scream. The creature is no bigger than the size Dart had been when Dustin first found him. The idea that it had been buried in El’s leg makes you feel ill.

With the last of her energy, El flings the creature across the room. It lands with a sickening thud on the floor, before it starts to move. You watch in horror as it scurries away, releasing its own screech, until Hopper’s boot crashes down upon it, killing it.

You’ve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch.

Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. It’s been days since you’ve last seen her. You’re more homesick than you’ve ever been before.

Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man you’ve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. “Murray?”

“You know him?”

Jonathan nods at you. “He’s the detective Nance and I visited last year.”

“He’s insane.” Nancy says, though there’s a nostalgic smile on her face.

Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. “Always at the scene of the crime, huh?”

“Yeah,” you blow hair out of your face. “Can’t seem to ever stop myself.” Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that he’s wearing, you tilt your head to the side. “Nice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. You’ve been direly needing some color in your life.”

Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell it’s more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. “Thanks, kid.”

“Anytime, old man.”

–

“The Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.”

You sit on the fountain’s edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mike’s words surround you.

He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while you’ve been gone. Innocent people have been getting possessed and turned into chemicalized substances. Their bodies melting together, conjoining to create a monster meant to kill El. With every detail Mike remembers, your stomach twists uncomfortably. It doesn’t sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.

And somehow Billy has become the face of it.

The last time you saw him, he had been a shell of who he used to be. He had been in pain. Obvious pain. Sweat had run down his flushed skin and his eyes had a frost in them unlike anything you had ever seen before. Instead of helping him, instead of telling anyone about this, you had abandoned Billy.

“How big is this thing?” Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him.

Jonathan sighs. “It’s… It’s big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.”

“You’ve seen it?” Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears.

“We’ve had a rough night.” Nancy whispers, eyes downcast.

“It sorta destroyed Hopper’s cabin.” Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry.”

Steve interjects now. He asks questions, tries to make sure he understands. As he speaks with the group, your head falls onto his shoulder. Your head spins. Only hours ago you were dealing with Russians and national emergencies. Now, you and Steve try to wrap your heads around the idea of a giant human goo creature wreaking havoc on Hawkins.

Which, according to Max, is still very much alive.

But that doesn’t stop Will from trying to help. “But if we close the gate again–”

“We cut the brain off from the body.”

“And kill it.” Lucas finishes for Max. “Theoretically.”

It sounds so simple, but you’ve been here before.

You’ve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byers’ dining room. Steve had been next to you, just like he is now, and Jonathan had been on your other side. The people surrounding you were the same, only now Robin and Will join. That November, the conversation had terrified you. Closing the gate. Killing the Mind Flayer and destroying its army.

It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.

You’ve been here before. It hadn’t been enough.

“How many more times are we going to kill it?” Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes don’t lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. “We thought we already killed the Mind Flayer. We went through hell and back to close the gate, only for it to be opened again not even a year later. By another country. I mean,” laughter crawls out of your throat. “Who’s to say that they won’t just open the gate again? They’ve already done it once–”

“Loverboy over here,” The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathan’s head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you he’s an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. “He told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. I’m not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.”

Steve subtly shifts your body so that he’s in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. “What’s that in your hands?”

Murray seems to now remember what he interrupted the group for. He clutches the pieces of paper in his hands, waves them in the air. “Ah. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.”

“That’s just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.” You squint at the papers. They’re no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.

“Seriously,” Murray turns back to Jonathan again. “I thought she was supposed to be the nice one.”

You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. “Just start talking.”

He sighs, but agrees. Motioning everyone to follow, Murray guides the group to a nearby table so that he can lay his drawings out for everyone to see. “Okay, this is what Alexei called ‘the hub’.” Murray points to the center of the first drawing. “Now, the hub takes us to the vault room.”

“Okay, where’s the gate?” Hopper hovers over him, attentive.

“Right here.” Murray now points to a random box, far from where you know the gate actually is. You bite your lip, unsure if you should speak up just yet. “I don’t know the scale on this, but I think it’s fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.”

You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re so wrong that it physically pains me.”

“I’m sorry?” Murray gives you an odd look. When Jonathan and Nancy showed up on his doorstep last year, the two of them had nothing but great things to say about you. Jonathan had waxed poetry about you while Nancy had sat at the dinner table, resentful. Now, meeting you, Murray is really struggling to understand where that all came from.

“It’s more like five hundred feet.” Erica says. When she sees Murray’s exasperated expression, she can’t help but laugh at the old man. “What, you’re just gonna waltz in there like it’s commie Disneyland or something?”

“And who are you?”

“Erica Sinclair. And who are you?”

“Murray… Bauman.”

“Listen, Mr. Bunman.” You have to stifle a laugh into Steve’s shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’ve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you’re all gonna die.”

“I’m sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?”

You slide off the fountain’s edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you don’t like his snippy attitude. “She’s ten, actually, and she’s right.”

“Yeah, you bald bastard!” Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. “Just the facts!”

While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Erica’s shoulders and place her behind you. There isn’t time for her to make a grown man cry. “We went through hell down there. It won’t be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.”

“They’re right.” Dustin speaks up. “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to. Excuse me, may I?” Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. “See this room here? This is a storage facility. There’s a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.”

“It’s how we accidentally got in.” You add, figuring any extra information could help.

“Wait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?” Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that he’s impressed. You know that once this is all over, he’ll grill you for details later.

“No, we thought it’d be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.” Steve points to his swollen eye. “Yes, Wheeler. It was an accident.”

“Guys!” Dustin shouts. When he has everyone’s attention again, he sighs. “Jesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. It’s a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.”

Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. “You can show us the way?”

Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. “Yes, I can show you the way. The kids can stay here, but I remember everything from when we were down there. If you want all the hero glory, then fine. Fight some Russians. But I can be your navigator.”

“No.” Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time.

You roll your eyes at all of them. “Okay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,” you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. “Aren’t a part of this conversation.”

“There isn’t a conversation to be had, kid.” Hopper scoffs at you. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re about to say. He won’t let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesn’t even want Joyce coming with him. “You’re not going. End of discussion.”

“You don’t seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you can’t be that dumb.” Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. “Listen to me!” He ignores you, doesn’t turn around. Instead, Hopper starts gathering bullets as he picks up a shotgun from one of the guards on the ground. Groaning, you continue to chase him.

You don’t care how annoying you’re being. You’ll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesn’t want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you don’t want him getting hurt either. “Hopper, I’m serious. El…” You look at the girl, who is far behind the two of you now as she rests near the fountain. Your voice grows thick. A wave of emotions rush over you, seeing her. She’s so small. She’s still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. “She needs you. You–you can’t get hurt.”

“And I won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” you grab the man’s shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. He’s frustratingly strong. “Please, just–you’re her father. You–you can’t leave her–” You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isn’t he the one who taught El what compromise means?

In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. It’s a sweet reunion, seeing them come together again after being separated for so long; your boys are together again. It feels like a lifetime ago where they were all together on Weathertop hill. Seeing them together again, it hits you.

The walkies. Cerebro.

“What if I could still communicate with you from above?” You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesn’t look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you don’t waste any time. “We have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. It’s how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if… what if I give you directions using them? That way, you’ll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.”

Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. He’s quiet, mulls what you’ve said over and over again in his head. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then exhales agonizingly slow. When he opens his eyes to look at you, he’s resolved. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing you’ve gotten through to Hopper, you finally release his shirt. You straighten it back out, wipe some dirt off of it. It really is a good shirt, one you know was almost definitely purchased for a woman named Joyce Byers. “It adds to my charm.”

Hopper chuckles, shakes his head, before walking over to where your brother stands with the others. He fishes a walkie from his back pocket, tosses a spare one to Dustin. “Hey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.”

Dustin sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“The signal won’t reach.” Erica clarifies for him.

You motion at them to explain faster. “But…”

“But,” Dustin quickly explains your idea. “We’d need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russians’ radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radio–”

“Dustin,” you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. “Just tell him about Cerebro.”

“I was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.” Your brother shakes his head. “If you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start… and a car.”

“Hey, chief.” You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. “Don’t you have a car?”

He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. It’s taking everything within him not to start yelling, which only causes your shit eating grin to grow. You extend your arm, hold your hand out palm-facing upwards. This is the best day of your life. “Come on, give me the car keys, Hopper.”

Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. “I hate you.”

Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you don’t care. A surge of warmth cascades through you instead. He listened. It means more to you than the man could ever know. Your arms find their way around him, surprising both you and Hopper, as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t make me regret it.” Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what you’ve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. It’s the same weight that he carries every day. The guilt, the anger that follows it. He clears his throat again and pulls you off of him, keeping you at arm’s length. “Do me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.”

You sniff, wipe away tears. You’re not sure why you’re crying. “I will, I promise. Good luck, old man.”

“Good luck, kid.” He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes don’t leave yours. There’s something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your father’s eyes when you were younger. The gaze burns you at first, but you stare back at Hopper through it. After he seems to find what he’s looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvald’s. “You’re the best of them.”

More tears well in your eyes, but you wipe them away before he can tease you. Hopper releases you, shoves you in a playful manner, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. You’ve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper.

Praise doesn’t come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight that’s even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. You’ve known Jim Hopper for three years now, but as you watch him walk over to El, soft smile still on his face from his conversation with you, you finally understand him.

–

Steve is waiting for you at the fountain, whispering quietly with Robin. The two of them stand off to the side, away from the others. He’s nervous, uncomfortable. He stands with his back away from Jonathan and Nancy, who are a few feet away talking to Murray. His arms are crossed over his chest and his fingers tap together in an anxious tick you’ve become familiar with.

The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steve’s body melts away.

He grabs your hand the second you’re within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. “Any updates, angel?”

You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. It’s been a long day. It’ll be an even longer night. “You know Weathertop hill?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Good.” You place Hopper’s keys into Steve’s hand. “You’re driving us, then.”

Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. “Define ‘us’. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Be nice, he’s still my best friend.” Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. “And it’s just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murray’s bunker. He’s just… He’s worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.”

Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that she’s new to all of this. That she hasn’t had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. “It’s… Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.”

“How many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?”

Steve snorts. “Depends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.”

“Astounding…”

You leave Steve to deal with Robin’s amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Will’s disappearance, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what you’ve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robin’s face the more you reveal to her, you can’t help but laugh.

Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. They’re still talking to Murray, although the man is more lecturing them than anything. He holds up a bunch of keys, explaining in great detail which one goes into specific locks. It’s dizzying trying to keep track of it all.

Secretly, you’re grateful that you’re going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions.

“This one is for the second to last bottom lock–”

“Murray, can I cut in real quick?” You try to be polite about it, but truly you don’t care whether or not you have the man’s permission.

He glares at you. “Aren’t you already?”

“Good point!” You grab Nancy’s and Jonathan’s arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When you’ve dragged them far enough away from Murray, you wrap your arms around them both. Jonathan sinks into the unexpected embrace. Nancy stiffens. You try to ignore it. “Get to that old man’s bunker safely, please?”

“Of course, bug.” Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. “Stay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.”

“I’ll try, bee.” Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier.

Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment you’re afraid she’ll pull away entirely, but instead she surprises you by wrapping an arm around you as well. Her chin is tucked against your neck, she still hasn’t melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but she’s trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, “I’ll keep him safe.”

You suck in a breath. You hadn’t known how desperately you needed to hear Nancy’s reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. “I love you. I love you both.”

Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheeler’s porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home.

You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others.

Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. She’s still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.

“Sucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.” Mike says, a light in his eyes as El’s head rests in his lap.

You stick your tongue out at him. “Sorry, couldn’t find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.”

“Lame.”

“Goodbye, Wheeler.”

Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. “He’ll be okay, right?”

Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How he’s infected. Flayed. It hasn’t escaped your notice that no one seems to want to bring the matter up, either. When it had been Will, everyone had wanted to make sure he wouldn’t die if the gate closed.

But no one has asked the same question for Billy.

Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Max’s embrace. “We’ll… We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Though the words aren’t meant to be a lie, you can’t help but feel that you’re breaking an oath when you say them.

–

Steve hadn’t noticed what brand of car the keys belonged to at first. However, the moment his brain recognizes the iconic Cadillac logo on its keychain, he practically starts to drool. A fucking Cadillac.

It doesn’t take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.

“I was saying goodbye to Joyce,” you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steve’s quick footsteps.

“It’s a Cadillac, Y/N!” Steve can almost feel the foam pooling around his mouth. His footsteps increase even more, his body vibrating at the knowledge that he gets to drive his dream car. His dad hadn’t wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mall’s front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. “Oh, man, now this…This is what I’m talkin’ about!”

“‘Toddfather’?” Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.

You make a face, but Steve doesn’t let her ruin his moment. He’s ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuck’s sake, it’s a goddamn Cadillac. “Oh, screw Todd! Steve’s her daddy now.”

Steve hops into the car’s front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what he’s just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. “Did he just talk about himself in the third person?”

Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. “Did he just call himself daddy?”

“I’m choosing to ignore him right now.” You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. There’s so much you don’t want to unpack with what Steve has said.

“You can’t ignore me, Y/N.” Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. “We already established that I’m really annoying.”

“Just take us to Weathertop, please.” You buckle yourself in and make sure the kids have their seatbelts on as well. When you see that Robin has found herself in the middle seat, you snicker at her. She’s squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.

“Why did I get stuck in the middle?” She complains.

Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mall’s parking lot, he offhandedly responds, “Passenger seat is reserved for girls I’m dating.”

Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve haven’t had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But he’s just referred to you as the girl he’s dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?

Time has blurred together, but Steve’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives and you’re his girl.

There will be time to talk about all of it later. You’ll make sure of it this time.

Steve’s foot presses on the gas, speeding through Hawkins. Neither of you were given an exact time frame from Hopper, but he presses down harder on the pedal and sends the car flying. There’s music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. You’re nervous, there’s still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; he’s trying to soothe you.

You intertwine your fingers through his and smile at him. Steve winks back at you, and you admire how lovely he looks as he drives. The moment is broken when Robin shoves her head between the two of you. “What the hell is a Cerebro?”

“It’s basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.” You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. “She lives in Utah.”

Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustin’s shoulder. “Suzie must be really special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her.”

Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. “I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.”

“She sounds made up to me.” Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. “She sound made up to you?”

Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”

“I–I’m not!” He looks to you for help, but you only shake your head at him. All he had to do was respond promptly. This is his own fault. “I’m not hesitating! I–I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”

“Not really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.” You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. “Suzie is real. I mean, I’m almost positive that she is.”

Dustin does a double take at your use of the word “almost”. He’s about to say something, demand to know why you’re not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. “Left, turn left!”

“There’s not a road here?” Steve argues, squinting his eyes in the dark to see whatever the hell the kid is seeing.

Dustin screams at him again to turn, and you only have a second to brace yourself before Steve jerks the wheel. The car’s tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when you’d been in the back of Billy’s car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse.

The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. “What the fuck?”

“Hendersons, where are we going?” Steve screams to you and your brother. He’s desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillside’s grass.

“Up!” You and Dustin exclaim. One hand clutches the door, the other clutches the seat. The entire car is practically at a ninety degree angle as Steve continues to drive up the hill. It’s bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races.

The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. “We’re not going to make it!”

“Yes we are!” Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. “C’mon, baby. C’mon!”

“Sweet talking the car won’t help!” You shriek after a particularly rough bump leaves you nauseous. The poor car strains against the giant hill. The tires, not at all made for off-roading, get caught in the grass.

Steve hits the wheel and curses. “C’mon! Please!” He presses harder on the gas, but the car comes to a stop. The tires move uselessly against the slick mud underneath.

Ill and desperately wanting to get out of the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “We can walk the rest of the way, Steve.” He gives you a despaired look, pleading with you to let him continue playing with his new car, but you roll your eyes at him. You’re five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. “The Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.”

Steve groans but turns the car off as everyone gets out, preparing for the walk ahead. The hill is just as steep as it had been earlier this week when you were with the party. While you’re annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time it’s night and the heat isn’t as suffocating.

When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. “Bald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?”

Bald Eagle had been your idea.

“Scoops Troop?” You ask your brother.

He nods, proud. “Thought of it myself.”

“Not bad, buddy.”

Murray’s voice crackles over the walkie. “Yes, I copy.”

Everyone lets out a breath of relief when you hear him. So far, the first phase of the plan seems to be working. Cerebro can reach all the way down to the lair; you can communicate with Hopper and Joyce. So far, so good.

Dustin starts to give Murray the directions he’ll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While you’re far from the Russians below you, you still don’t necessarily feel like you’re out of harm’s reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring it’s best to give the two of you some time alone.

You stare out into the view of Hawkins from so high above. Weathertop has always been your favorite spot in the small town. Your first summer in Hawkins, Jonathan had introduced you to the hill; you used to spend all your time up here with him. You’d spend hours running up and down the length of it, giggling and sunkissed. If you stand still enough, you can still hear the laughter in the breeze. You miss Jonathan and being kids with him.

“I haven’t been up here in years.” Steve stands next to you, voice soft. He stares out into the field as well, admires its beauty the way you are, though really he just wants the excuse to look at you. “Forgot how peaceful it was.”

“I love it here,” you tell him. “Late in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.”

“Well, when they start to bloom,” Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasn’t held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. “We can run through them together.”

You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. It’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. “I think I’d like that–”

From the corner of your eye, you see lights flickering in the distance. They catch your attention, standing out against the black backdrop of the night sky. You shrug Steve off, feeling a tug in your chest to walk closer to the hill’s edge. You need to figure out what you’re seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.

It’s the mall. The lights are coming from the mall.

You freeze.

The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. It’s supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isn’t right.

Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. “What the…?”

“They left. They said they would be gone by now.” You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. It’s supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murray’s safely. He wouldn’t lie, he would never lie to you.

Robin, Dustin, and Erica come up behind you and Steve. You all stand there at the crest. No one moves, transfixed by what they see. The lights continue to flicker, miles below, impossibly too far away from help.

Someone has to help.

Your feet move, twisting your body to run back to the radio. You need answers. You need to know what the hell is going on, if everyone is safe, and Dustin is right behind you. He falls to the grass in front of the radio and frantically brings it to his lips. “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!”

He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. “I repeat, do you copy–” A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radio’s speaker. It’s loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brother’s concern rivals your own. “Griswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagle’s nest?”

Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but there’s only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You can’t breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas.

El.

The Mind Flayer has them.

Steve tries to grab your hand, but you’re blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustin’s hands and bring it to your own lips. “Jonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.”

Your pleads fill the void of a response in the night air. Steve sits next to you, all he can do is watch as your pleading turns into begging. Your voice cracks, the words scratch your throat. Seeing your white-knuckled grip on the radio, Steve can’t take it anymore.

“C’mon,” he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you don’t know why he’s pulling you away from the radio when your friends need help, but Steve has made up his mind. He takes the device out of your hands and makes you look at him. “They need our help.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Y/N, look at me.” Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. “We’re going.”

Relief threatens to make your knees weak. Too wired from the debilitating combination of fear and helplessness, all you can do is nod at Steve and allow him to guide you down the hill. Dustin and Erica see that you’re leaving and try to stop you. “Where are you going?”

“To get them the hell outta there!” Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. “Stay here, contact the others!”

Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesn’t want you to leave, and you hate that you have to leave him. But right now, he and Erica are as far from danger as physically possible. Weathertop hill is miles away from Starcourt. Right now, Jonathan needs you, and so do the others. Breaking out of Steve’s grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

You run back to the car where Steve awaits, and Robin is quick to follow. She runs after the two of you and catches the walkie that Dustin tosses her. “Stay in touch,” he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing.

“We will!” You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid, and stay here.”

The backdoor closes, Robin’s seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillac’s engine roars to life.

–

Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasn’t gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesn’t feel like it will be enough.

“I’m sure they’re okay.” Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also don’t shake as he grips the steering wheel. “I mean, they have El. She’s a superhero.”

“Total superhero.” Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together.

You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. You’re terrified for your friends, you should’ve never split up. The party always does better when it’s together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. “How much farther?”

“A minute, maybe even less.” Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engine’s roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction.

In the distance you see Starcourt’s blinding neon lights. They grow bigger and bigger with every passing second, and you release the breath you had been holding when you see that you’re close. The moment of relief is short lived, however, when you hear gunshots pierce through the night. The sound rings in your eyes and the sight of Nancy firing the gun chokes you.

“There!” You point towards where she stands and Steve changes the direction of the car. The tires screech and your body thuds against the door but you don’t care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathan’s car, unmoving as she fires bullet after bullet. Something seems to be wrong with his car, you can hear the engine fail each time he turns the key.

You squint your eyes. At first, you can’t see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driver’s seat is Billy. “Steve!”

“I see him!” He floors it.

The impact knocks all the air out of your body. It all happens so fast. Glass shatters. Metal hits metal. Your body gets thrown, your head roughly hits Steve’s shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You can’t remember if you scream.

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, panting, as soon as he car comes to a stop. His head is spinning yet the first thing he does is look to see if you’re hurt. There’s some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isn’t a scratch on you, which he’s thankful for.

“Ask me tomorrow?” Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process what’s just happened.

It takes a few moments for you to come to. Your ears are ringing. Your neck aches from being thrown so suddenly to the left. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed…” Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. “Oh, shit.”

You follow her line of sight and nearly throw up. The Mind Flayer crawls over the mall and releases a thundering screech, and the size of it alone makes you want to cry. It’s huge, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen before.

A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. “Get in!”

Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isn’t room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. It’s a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steve’s chest, but it’ll have to do.

As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. You’re thrown further into Steve’s chest and Robin, who sits in front of you, lets out a quiet yelp when she sees the Mind Flayer chasing after the car, not far behind. Seeing this as well, Jonathan takes a rough turn and everyone in the car tries to brace for the rest of the ride.

“Are you okay, bug?” Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.

“Fine and dandy,” you pick a piece of glass out of your hair. Steve helps, carefully combing through your hair as well. The Mind Flayer screams, tries to lunge at the car, and your heart skips a beat. You try to distract yourself. “I crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought y’all out here tonight?”

“Billy.” Everyone in the car says in unison.

You wince. “It’s always him, isn’t it?”

No one answers. Your quips don’t land. Robin hasn’t looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesn’t want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayer’s body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums.

It’s grim in the car. Really fucking grim.

“Dusty-bun, you copy?” A girl’s voice comes through over the radio. It’s not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.

Steve’s bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustin’s voice crackles through the radio, and your bewilderment turns into relief. At least your brother is far away from whatever the hell is chasing you right now. “I copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.”

“Suzie,” Steve and Robin breathe out at the same time. You smile at them, smug. They had their doubts, but you were almost certain she had been real. Serves them right.

The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. “‘Suzie-poo’? That’s the best nickname he could’ve come up with?”

“I like bee, better.” Jonathan agrees.

Steve scoffs. “Honey has a nicer ring to it.”

“Both of you shut up!” You don’t have time for their weird ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ competition. Dustin’s started speaking over the radio again and you’re trying to listen in case it’s important. He’s asking Suzie whether she knows what Planck’s constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand.

“Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a…” Dustin’s voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he can’t seem to remember. “W-What is it?”

“Okay, let me just be clear on this.” The tone of Suzie’s voice makes you pity your brother. It’s an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever she’s about to say, it won’t be pretty. “I haven’t heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can… save the world?”

You whistle, commending the girl’s sense of self worth. “She’s got a point.”

Dustin pleads with her, promising that he’ll make it up to Suzie as soon as he can. You feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He really had been trying to contact her ever since he got home from camp. How was he supposed to know his week would end up being dominated by Russians?

“You can make it up to me now.” Suzie’s voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what she’s about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before you’re forced to find out.

“What?” Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesn’t make you feel any better.

“I want to hear it.”

Horror fills you. It’s worse. So much worse than you ever could’ve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. “Oh, no… He told her.”

“Told her what?” Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. She’s insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise.

Jonathan’s eyes meet Steve’s in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. “Theater camp.”

“Jonathan Byers, I will hurt you!” You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that he’s your closest friend. He knows far too much about you.

Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. “Turn around, look at what you see.”

His voice is clear and beautiful, a testament to the countless hours the two of you were forced to endure in vocal lessons. When you were younger and still living in Virginia, your mother made you and your brother attend a musical theater camp every summer. She loved having you guys perform little shows for her around the house. Said your voices were like angels to listen to.

The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you.

Jonathan only knows about it because your mom had him video tape Christmas carols a few years ago (like the traitor that he is). It had taken several batches of cookies, numerous pleas, and a handful of threats to ensure he wouldn’t tell anyone what he saw.

“In her face, the mirror of your dreams.” Dustin’s melodic voice floats through the car. The song had been one the two of you sang frequently at camp, its verses simple yet fun to sing together.

Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. They’ve completely forgotten about the Mind Flayer still chasing after the car. Suzie, a surprisingly good singer as well, now joins Dustin. They sing together, in a sweet, childish way. You can’t help but sing along, harmonizing with them.

Everyone in the car looks at you as if you’re insane, but you’re too tired and exhausted to care. You’ve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. It’s a good song.

That, or maybe you’re just delirious from dehydration.

After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and you’re almost saddened by that. You’ve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. “Planck’s constant is 6.62607004.”

Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. “You just saved the world!”

“Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.”

The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. It’s disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. You’ll apologize to him later.

Dustin’s voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Erica’s doing. You’ll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustin’s impromptu performance with.

“So, theater camp, huh?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases.

“Tell anyone and I swear I’ll–” The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone is here, in the car. It only wants El. Unease twists your stomach. You lean forward and look at who is in the car. When you see Will and Lucas in the seat in front of you, you panic. “Where are the others?”

You’re practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. “Where’s Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?”

Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. “We got separated, but they’re–they’re fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mall–”

“So you left them?”

“We didn’t really have much of a choice, Y/N!” Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldn’t do that. She knows that you know this.

“It’s going back for them! It fucking turned around, can’t you see that? We need to follow it, now!”

“Y/N–”

“Turn. Around.”

“Steve, sit Y/N back down!” Jonathan’s yell cuts in between you and Nancy. You’re about to start spewing curses at him, but Steve’s arms are strong and force you back into his lap. You’re livid. “Hold on!”

Jonathan knows you’re right. He tightens his hold on the steering wheel and stomps on the brakes. The car spins, he twists the wheel, controls it as best as he can, before he steadies the vehicle and accelerates back towards the mall.

–

When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan.

“Fireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.” He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. You’re all carrying some as you run through the mall’s parking lot. “If we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.”

“Think it’ll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?” Nancy asks, hesitant.

“If we throw them from above, yeah!”

You kiss Lucas’ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. “I think you’re a genius, Sinclair.”

Inside the mall, everyone quickly sets the fireworks up. Faintly you can hear the Mind Flayer lurking somewhere, its roars echoing throughout the building, but it hasn’t found you guys yet. Lighters get passed around, fireworks get messily taped together, groups are divided in an attempt to cover the most ground. Jonathan with Nancy. Will with Lucas. You and Steve with Robin.

You’re taping together the last of your fireworks when you look down over the railing. You almost drop the fireworks in your hand when you see Billy hovering over El. He’s so much bigger than she is. She’s hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. “He’s here.”

Thuds shake the ground. The Mind Flayer descends from the rooftop and crawls over to where Billy has placed El. Its mouth opens, preparing for the kill, and Lucas throws the first firework. “Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”

Bursts of light collide into the monster. It hisses, turns to face the direction the firework was thrown, and Lucas throws another into its mouth.

Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. It’s loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billy’s eyes flash through your mind. How the red in them overtook the icy blue. The sweat that poured from his face. The cruelty that seeped through his skin.

It’s horrible what’s happened to him. He didn’t deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game.

But someone has to end it. You breathe in, relax your body, and bring your lighter to the first firework. Its heat licks at your skin as you release it into the air. You hit the side of its body, sending the Mind Flayer stumbling back.

“Hey, asshole. Over here!” Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. It’s dangerous, stray fireworks threaten to crash into everyone, but the plan seems to be working. WIth every hit the Mind Flayer takes, the more he weakens.

Your thumb burns as you light fireworks over and over again. The motion is repetitive, just enough to keep the fear in you at bay. It’s deafening within the mall. It’s exhilarating. It’s dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky.

Distantly, through the haze of smoke, you watch as the fireworks affect Billy as well. He cowers each time the Mind Flayer gets hit, but it also seems to enrage him as well. He grabs El’s wounded leg and drags her closer to the monster.

Helplessly you wish you were down there with El, helping her. However, all you can do is continue throwing fireworks in a crazed attempt to save the ones you love. You scream with every throw, exerting all your strength to throw them as far as you physically can. But you’re quickly running out of ammunition.

“Dustin, we’re out of time!” Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face.

Your brother screams back, pleading with Hopper to close the gate. No one answers him, and you hold back exhausted sobs as you throw the remaining fireworks. They won’t be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. It’s the only way any of you are making it out alive.

Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El.

She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you can’t be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and you’re numb to it all. He throws it, it explodes into a shower of purple. Its ashes scatter around Billy, singes his back, and you see now that he’s stopped moving.

“That was the last one!” Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isn’t anything else the three of you can do.

You run to the railing and look around, feverish to find any way to help. Jonathan catches your eye from across the plaza. He looks just as distraught as you are. Your palm hits against the metal of the railing in frustration. There has to be something. Then you see Max and Mike below, standing on the outskirts of where Billy and El are, all alone.

“I’m going down!” You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. They’re too close to the fire and explosions and monsters.

“Y/N, wait–” Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him.

“Steve, I need you to trust me.” There’s a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You can’t shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now you’ve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, you’ve gotten lucky. You don’t know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. “Please.”

Maybe it’s the way you say it. Maybe it’s the tears that stream down your face as you look at him. Whatever the reason may be, Steve reluctantly lets go of you. Endlessly thankful for him, your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. He makes a cute, surprised noise, and you wish more than anything that you can bask in the warmth of his lips, but you can’t.

You force yourself to pull away. “I’ll be back, take care of the others.”

And then you’re gone.

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the mall, you run down the stairs and straight towards Max and Mike. They hear you approach and suddenly they’re both in your arms. They hold onto you tightly, none of you can tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Billy slowly stands up and away from El. His movements are labored as he walks in front of the Mind Flayer, blocking its path to her.

They stand, face to face, unmoving. Predator against prey. Your heart pounds in your throat as you watch, too scared to move. In an almost imperceptible velocity, the Mind Flayer extends its claws.

Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. “No!” A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him.

Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp.

Everything happens slowly after that.

The first claw that penetrates Billy’s side.

The second one that cuts through his other side.

Then the third one, the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. They pierce through his skin, sink into the flesh. His body goes limp as he’s suspended into the air. The Mind Flayer hisses down at him, its teeth bared, and Billy, who has never been afraid, screams in the face of death as the monster fatally punctures his chest.

Everything stops.

“Billy!” You will never forget the pain in Max’s scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares.

As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billy’s body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayer’s body crashes into the walls, it convulses, spasms, leaving destruction in its wake. Then, all together, it stills and falls to the ground.

The gate has been closed.

Mike tears himself from your arms and runs over to El. He pulls her into a hug and she begins to sob. You and Max walk numbly over to them, neither of your eyes leave Billy’s bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body.

“Billy?” Max knees next to him. She’s crying, she doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much blood. “Billy, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.”

You kneel next to her, at her side through it all.

Blood pours from Billy’s mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. “Talking to you… sweetheart.”

But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?

Those had been your last words to him.

“Billy…” He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didn’t know what had been happening to him, why his anger became venom. A sob is wrenched from your mouth. He had been all alone, and he had tried to find you.

Billy coughs again, more blood leaks from his wounds. With the last of his strength, he turns his head to Max. “I’m sorry…” His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesn’t rise again.

Max shakes his shoulders, uncaring for the wounds there. She shakes him, begs and pleads with him to wake up, but his body remains lifeless. She lets out one final, anguished sob. “Billy.”

She buries her face in your chest and sobs. You hold her, El joins. The girl tries to soothe Max, she tries to keep you together, but you break as well.

You cry for the boy Billy had once been. Max had told you stories from before. How he would drive her to the skate park, scare off any older boy who tried to taunt her. She told you about how he used to love surfing in California, before his mom had left them and his dad became violent.

Max told you about how kind Billy had once been, she knows he used to be kind. How she could see it in him still, hiding the bruises from his father to not scare her. To make her feel safe in their own home even if he intimidated her as well; it was the violence in him that was created by a monster far more vile than the Mind Flayer.

You cry for Max, too young to lose such a complicated loved one. You know the pain better than anyone else. How it hurts to grieve them, how it makes you feel pathetic to miss someone who has only hurt you, but the tenderness of knowing them tethers you to it all. Billy had been her brother. There is no greater tether than that.

You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billy’s off behavior. You had seen the first signs of what the Mind Flayer did to him. He had been stranded on the side of the road, bloodied and bruised, blue eyes darker than normal, and you had done nothing except tell him to come find you.

And then you had left him.

Billy Hargrove died alone.

You and Max will share the burden of this guilt.

–

Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. You’re on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billy’s body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they’re the only words you can say to the girl.

Max clutches your arms around her and her tears soak your shirt. El and Steve try to coax her out of your arms, but she doesn’t move. She refuses to let go of you, though she allows Jonathan to drape his arms over you and hold you as your own sobs echo within the mall.

Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that you’re in no condition to guide, so she takes over for you. She instructs Steve and Lucas to take Max from your arms so that they can stand the two of you up. The fire from the wreckage is quickly spreading and you’ll need to evacuate soon.

“It’s okay, bug. You’re okay.” Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steve’s hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet.

Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steve’s eyes never leave your weak frame.

It’s all a blur after that.

Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think it’s Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. It’s raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building.

There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and you’re shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that you’re in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after she’s finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye.

“It’s going to take some time to heal,” the medic explains to you. She’s soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. “You kids went through a lot tonight.”

Time.

It always goes back to time.

Steve rubs your back and kisses the top of your head every few minutes. You rest your head against his shoulder, body pressed against his, a blanket draped around both of your shoulders’. Neither of you say anything. His hand on your back is warm, it unthaws the ice that the shock has left behind. His touch grounds you, keeps you afloat.

A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyce’s as she stumbles through the crowd of armed soldiers and firefighters. She stumbles around, lost in some haze that clouds her once shining face. Joyce looks around in concern, trying to find her sons, and somehow you know, even before her face crumbles when she sees you, that something terrible has happened.

Her eyes meet yours.

Hopper isn’t with her.

Will rushes towards his mother and almost knocks her down with how hard he hugs her. Joyce clings onto him and breaks into heartwrenching, bone crushing, sobs. You can hear her from where you sit with Steve, you can feel the weight of her loss like thickened water in your lungs.

In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mike’s lap, stands up when she sees Joyce. She walks towards the woman as she embraces her son. Though El faces away from you, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, the way her shoulders shake as she begins to fall apart indicates the remnants of her childhood have died tonight.

“Hopper’s dead.” They’re the first words you’ve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body.

There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and El’s childhood. One for every year you got lucky. The fear that had been creeping through the back of your mind finally presents itself to you. It manifests in the humid July air and it laughs at you. Saving Will, closing the gate, destroying the Mind Flayer. They were debts needed to be fulfilled, and they were paid for tonight.

You see Max and Robin sitting on a stretcher across from you. Max also hasn’t said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Will’s arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing she’s ever had to a father.

You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancy’s eyes are sunken in and Jonathan’s face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything.

You’re all bleeding or burned or bruised and you’re tired.

“Sometimes…” Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. They’re important, somehow, even if you don’t know why. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.”

Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. “Luck?”

“When Will went missing… It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.” You weren’t supposed to have been with the kids when they found El. You were lucky that night, it was luck that threw you into the middle of it all. “It was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnels…” Your body shivers at the memory. It had been so cold down there, the smell of the damp earth is a scent you will never forget. “And now I–”

Your words catch in your throat. Steve’s body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. “And now I… I’m not sure how I feel.”

“Why’s that, angel?” Steve listens, he tries to understand. “I mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.”

You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isn’t. “All the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.”

El’s father is dead. Joyce had come so close to loving again. Max no longer has someone to call a brother. Billy, who endured so much hurt when he was a child, never got the chance to experience kindness when he grew up.

Billy never got the chance to become good, not like you did. You were lucky to have even become kind again in the first place. It had taken years to turn the hurt from your childhood into empathy. You had a mother who called you her sweet girl even when you screamed horrible insults at her. You had a brother who held your hand through the anger that your father left behind. You had a best friend who taught you that not everyone leaves. There had been people who loved you, who were gentle, who showed you that anger can be turned into something soft.

But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isn’t fair.

“My entire life I’ve been lucky,” your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. “Now it–it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.” Your fingers find Steve’s, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesn’t know that he’s the reason you believe you’ve had more luck than anyone else in their life. “I… I was lucky to have met you, to become your friend, someone you trust. How could I possibly have any luck left over after everything we’ve been through together?”

Everything burns in Steve. He understands what you’re trying to say, he does, but he doesn’t agree. Steve hooks the pad of his fingertip underneath your chin and coaxes your head up, he wants you to look at him as he speaks. He needs you to hear him. To understand. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steve’s open and earnest gaze. “I’m wrong?”

He hums, strokes a finger from the dip of your cheek up to the crest of your brow. He admires you, memorizes the skin beneath his. “You’ve taught me a lot of things, but you’re wrong about that luck theory of yours. See, I have my own theory that you can never run out of luck if you love, and you taught me that to love and be loved is the luckiest thing a person can give and receive.”

Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. He’d been thirteen, you had been twelve. He remembers how small you looked to him, yet lovely nonetheless, even back then. You had always been so lovely to Steve, kind, delicate, admirable.

Your eyes stare into Steve’s and he remembers the first day he spoke to you. The squeal of your bike tires as you almost crashed into his car. The way the setting sun cast you in a golden glow in the ditch you landed in as Steve offered you his hand. How, the moment you laughed at what he said, he felt breathless.

You smile at Steve now, the same smile all those years ago, the smile he saw when he was thirteen and believed in knights and dragons. Now, at eighteen, you smile at Steve and he believes in fates that attach people to one another and mold them into one being.

“And I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.”

Steve’s words cut through you. They’re the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. It’s almost like an awakening, a slow remembering, how can someone run out of luck if they love with everything within them?

You see Mike now consoling El. She’s in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the other’s arms. Lucas holds Max’s hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his mother’s hair, offering her love that only a son can.

Even while there is so much grief and pain within this world, the love that follows overwhelms it.

Steve stares down at you, eyes soft with contentedness. There isn’t a pressure behind them, he doesn’t need you to say anything to him. He’s simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and you’re so full of love for him.

“I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.”

Steve Harrington smiles the boyish smile that you fell for long before you knew what love even was, and he kisses you. He breathes you in, he has you right where he wants you.

You finally, finally, have come home.

–

Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time.

After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. It’s a small, bittersweet thing. Mrs. Waters had told you the news with her own bittersweet smile, mourning her dear friend Mrs. Driscoll who died in the fire. She will never know the truth, that the woman had become part of an army created by a monster.

“But at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,” the woman said as she stacked books with you at the counter. It had only taken you two days before finding yourself falling back into old habits. Your mother had wanted you to stay home for the rest of the summer, but Bookstrordinary has always been a second home to you, and you couldn’t bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. “I miss her.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.” You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.

Hopper’s funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man would’ve hated, and he was crowned Hawkins’ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding El’s hand, so that the two of you wouldn’t be seen.

Billy’s funeral was a few days after Hopper’s. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billy’s father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldn’t get the time off of work. After the ceremony, the girl silently followed you into your car and spent the rest of the day at Bookstrordinary with you. She hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling.

Max spends most of her summer with you at the store after that. Some days she helps restock the shelves, singing along to your set of tapes, bright and cheery. But some days she’s quiet, sits in a corner and pretends to read whatever you hand her. El stops by the store sometimes, too. You read comics to her, bake her the oatmeal raisin cookies she loves so much, and gossip about Mike and Lucas if Max is having one of her good days.

During the first week you bake Joyce’s favorite muffins, the second week you bake her brownies. You offer her a shoulder to cry on every time you stop by the Byers home, you reminisce over Hopper and his disdain for you; she appreciates everything you do.

Steve spends every single day with you, it doesn’t matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether you’re at work, at home, even at Jonathan’s or Nancy’s, he’s always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan can’t help but laugh whenever he sees Robin talking your ear off while Steve follows you around like a moth to a flame.

Together, you all try to heal.

Two weeks pass and you’re woken up by the ringing of your phone.

“Hello?” Annoyance seeps through your greeting. You’ve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once.

“Come outside, angel.”

His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. “Steve?”

“Wear something warm, okay?”

“What–?” He hangs up, the line disconnects, and you’re completely taken aback by the phone call. You didn’t make any plans with Steve tonight, at least not any that you can recall. He had spent the day with you at work, ate dinner with you and your family, before watching a movie with Dustin and going home.

You’re not entirely sure why he’s called you at nearly two in the morning to come outside, but you listen anyways. On your desk chair lays the cardigan Steve bought you for Christmas, his initials stitched into the sleeve. Sliding it over your shoulders, you quickly put it on before climbing through your window.

Steve’s car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. There’s music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. “The Beatles?”

They were the band that you and your dad used to listen to. His fingers would strum their songs on his guitar as the two of you sat side by side on the front porch of your childhood home. He would hum the words to you. Told you that you should know about real music.

When your dad left, he took the music with him.

Jonathan had tried to get you into his favorite artists. The Smiths, David Bowie, the Clash. He would sit you down in his room and play their songs over his record player and watch your reactions. While the music was good, and you’ve come to love them because the artists reminded you of Jonathan, it was never the same as listening to the Beatles with your dad during early July mornings.

Then one night, when you and Steve had been driving around Hawkins, a Beatles song began to play over the radio. Unknowing of your history with the band, Steve started to hum along the same way your dad would do, and it was finally then that music was brought back into your life.

“What, I don’t get a hello?” Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear.

You throw your body over the center console and hug him. “Hi, honey.”

As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steve’s fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the car’s floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.

He’s driving you to Lover’s Lake.

“Why are we heading towards the lake?” You ask Steve, but he pretends not to hear you. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along to Paul McCartney. Your eyes wander to the backseat and notice a small box nestled against the leather.

A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. It’s dark, the moon reflects off the lake’s water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. It’s a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the night’s breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm.

Lost in admiring the view, you don’t notice that Steve has left your side until he returns with a picnic basket. The box you saw earlier is tucked underneath his arm. You tilt your head at him, quizzically. “What are you planning, Harrington?”

Steve grabs your hand. “You’ll see.”

He leads you down to the lake’s edge where the water meets the sand. There’s a trail that Steve once found when he was nine. It had been during the last fishing trip he had ever taken with his dad. The man commanded him to hook the worm and Steve cried. Embarrassed and ashamed, Steve had run towards where the sand met the woods and found a meadow hidden within it.

There are flowers in full bloom within the meadow, and you gasp when you see their vibrant pinks and blues. The flowers are delicate yet their stems are long. Steve sets the picnic basket down and pulls a blanket out from it. He sets it onto the grass and lays down, motioning you to join him.

The stars are clear tonight, shining bright above the two of you. They almost seem to wink at you as you lay side by side with Steve. His hand is in yours, as it always is these days, and with only the stars as his witness, Steve whispers into your ear, “Thank you for staying.”

His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what he’s thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that you’d wait for him. He hadn’t been ready. The timing of it all wouldn’t have been right, but you knew, even back then, that you’d wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant you’d receive even half of his love.

Take your time, I’ll be here.

“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability.

A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and you’ve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words you’ve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You don’t think you’ll ever tire of saying those three words to him. There’s so much love within you, so much you’ve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can.

Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know he’s wholly, truly, yours now. With a swift motion, Steve places himself on top of you as you kiss. His weight presses down on you, one hand cups your cheek and the other steadies him. His hair tickles your face, his cologne clouds your brain, and the sweet taste of July honey coats your tongue.

Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. It’s lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. It’s warm, it’s soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, he’s brought you here for other reasons tonight.

“Hold on, I got you something.” Steve fixes his hair, clears his throat, and pulls out a container from the basket. He reveals a freshly baked loaf of banana bread on a beautiful glass plate. There’s a small, lopsided candle on top of it.

“You came prepared tonight,” you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.

“My mom did, actually. She’s the one who made this.” You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. “Relax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didn’t I?”

Words escape you. Steve’s mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though you’ve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you.

Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. “C’mon, make a wish, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, smiling, and the wish comes easily to you.

For time to stay like this, forever.

You blow the candle out, Steve cuts the banana bread, and you take turns feeding it to one another. The dessert is delicious, freshly baked and still warm. It’s sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for.

When you’ve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. “Alright, now onto the real event of the night!”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, the kissing wasn’t enough?” Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. “I was teasing, honey.”

“You terrify me,” he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one you’ve been curious about all night.

“I aspire to be terrifying,” you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. It’s light, lighter than you expected. “Is this my gift you’ve been bragging about?” For months leading up to your birthday, Steve had been boasting about this amazing gift he had thought of, how he had convinced the party to help him.

“Open it and find out.” There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. He’s nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right.

You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isn’t wrapped like your other gifts from Steve have been. Instead the box is made of a dark oak, and its lid opens with a soft click. The silver catches your attention first. It’s a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms.

“Is this…?” The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other.

Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a charm bracelet.”

Moonlight reflects off of one of the charms, revealing it to be a frog, another one to be a cookie, and slowly you piece it together. There’s six charms, one for each member of the party. “Steve.”

“Have you figured it out–oomph!” He lands with a thud on his back as you attack him with a hug. Slightly out of breath, he laughs and wraps his arms around you. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“How did you get the kids to do this?” You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it.

Steve sighs in exasperation. “Money and a lot of begging. They were all for picking out charms for you, I just had to pay them to spend more than five minutes with me at the jewelry store.”

You laugh, that sounds exactly like them, and you love those kids with everything within you. Holding up the frog pendant, you know which kid picked it out for you. “Mike?”

“Yup. Said something about Kermit the frog?”

“He’s such a little shit,” you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldn’t stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. “Dustin?”

“He told me about your code blues.” Steve rubs your back, content to have you resting against him. You hum, touched that your brother trusted Steve enough to confide this to. No one else knows about your code blues, it’d been a special thing just between the two of you.

With your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, Steve explains the rest of the charms to you. His voice is lazy, slow, lilting with fondness, and his hand a firm weight against your back. Max chose a knife charm to remind you of how badass you are. Will chose a bee, because he’ll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that it’s your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her.

“What about the ovals?” You ask Steve after he’s done explaining what the kids chose for you. The ovals are slightly larger than the charms, almost serving as a divider between them. The metal is smooth underneath your fingers.

He brushes hair out of your face and winks. “Turn them over.”

With slight confusion, you do, and discover that they’re engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. They’re your names for one another, nestled between charms from the kids you love so dearly in your life; this is a gift made from pure, unadulterated love.

“Oh my god,” it’s perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steve’s face before he even has time to blink. You scatter millions of kisses upon his face, drown him in them, With every kiss that you press upon his pretty skin, you shower him with praise. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Steve laughs and tries to move his face away, but really he leans into the onslaught of love. His cheeks burn from smiling so hard and from the heat you always make him feel. He grabs your waist and enjoys the skin he holds. “You like it?”

“I love it, Steve!”

“Does this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?” He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time he’s learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, “Am I now the best boyfriend in the world?”

His words make you blush, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to Steve being yours. You’ve waited so long to be his, to hold him and kiss him like you do now. You cherish the feeling, the sensation of knowing a boy loves you the way that Steve does. “You’ve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And you’re definitely the best boyfriend in the world.”

Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. He’s elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and you’ve never been so in love before. You once thought you knew what love was, what the burn of it could feel like. But now, with Steve lying beneath you as his arms keep you from falling, you know that love is airless, light, cool to the touch and warm on the skin. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold.

After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lake’s waves can be heard in the distance. Crickets chirp their greeting, the stars wink hello above you. Their noises serve as a lullaby to you, soothing you to an almost sleep-like state. You nestle your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and let out a sleepy exhale.

Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. “You fallin’ asleep on me, Henderson?”

“I’m resting my eyes.”

“Very convincing,” he chuckles, tightening his embrace to try and stave off the cold that creeps in. He lets out his own tired sigh, your weight upon him has always put him at ease. He inhales, smells your perfume, and he can’t believe that he’s here right now with you. After everything he’s been through, he can’t believe that somehow he’s come out of it with you next to him. Last year he thought he had lost you forever. This year he can see forever with you. “I think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.”

It’s meant to be a joke, a gentle tease. More of a reflection of how far the two of you have come in such a short amount of time, but still Steve’s words remind you of something. You’ve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him.

“I was scared, last summer.”

Steve tilts his head at you. “Scared of what?”

“I was scared of falling in love with you,” the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steve’s eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. “Last July, you were… Everything. You were everything to me, and it terrified me. I was still figuring my feelings out for Jonathan back then, you had Nancy, but you were so lovely and I just–I couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been fair, not to anyone, but I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…” Steve hadn’t known. All this time, he thought he had done something wrong. But really you had been trying to protect yourself, protect him, and he understands now why you had to leave him for a while. He sees the distress on your face and he shushes you, kisses your forehead. “Don’t apologize, okay? I honestly would’ve run away too, if I were you. I’m just… You came back to me, in the end. That’s all I care about.”

He’s too good for you. “I still hurt you.”

“You’re human,” Steve brushes more hair out of your face. “We all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think we’re pretty even now.”

Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. It’s what he’s always done best. Even on the day Will had gone missing, he had been the one to ease the loss by pretending not to have known your name. He had made you laugh when you thought you could never laugh again. Steve would do anything to get you to smile, and you cannot imagine where you’d be without him. “We always even our debts, huh?”

“It’s tradition at this point.”

And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steve’s reverberates into your ears, and you’re happy.

–

A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night.

His knuckles rap against the glass and it’s a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didn’t know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in.

You go to open your curtain, ready to tell the boy all about what Dustin had done today, unaware that when you open the curtain, everything will change.

Jonathan is crying.

“Bee, oh my God.” You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. He’s shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. “Is everything okay?”

He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. “We’re moving.”

Time stands still. You’re seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.

Somehow you’re holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. He’s moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you.

Your legs give out, or maybe it’s Jonathan’s, but you hold each other on the floor, intertwined, mourning the loss of growing up together. Your tears mix with his, his breathing becomes yours. The two of you cling onto each other, scared that one day soon you’ll never be able to do this again.

“We need to–” Your breathing is shaky, your eyes sting. You feel a desperate franticness claw out of you, you grasp at what little sanity you have left. “We need to promise each other that–that we’ll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. It–it doesn’t matter how but–”

“I’ve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.” Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew you’d say this, and he loves you all the more for it. “It’s been agreed.”

You nod, relieved. It isn’t much, it still doesn’t change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least you’ll make every last second with him count. You’ll move into the Byers home if you have to, they’re your family. He’s your person. He’s embedded into your skin, he’s nestled between your bones.

Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other.

The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two.

Now, holding onto each other as the world you’ve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.

–

Steve and Robin rope you into helping them find a new job.

You innocently pointed out that Family Video was hiring, figuring it was an easy enough place to work at, and suddenly the two of them had shoved you into Steve’s car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming.

“You put your mom down as a reference?” Robin questions Steve as you all get out of the car. She had agreed to proofread it after you politely declined, stating that if you proofread anything Steve wrote, it might ruin your relationship.

“Yeah, why not?” Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. “She’s like, super well respected.”

You share a look with Robin. “Rich kids,” you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, you’ll neve quite get over how well connected he is. It’s bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.

“Whatever, call me a rich kid, but it’s my car you guys get free rides in.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dingus.”

“I didn’t ask to be here,” you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the store’s door open for you and Robin. “I think this could count as kidnapping.”

Robin bumps her hips against yours. “Not technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?”

You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. You’ve never really visited Family Video before, only really stopping by if you were picking up Dustin from the arcade next door. The store is nice, albeit small, but you can see Steve and Robin enjoying themselves. There’s good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoop’s small shorts and sailor hats. “It’s not so bad in here.”

“Why thank you, pretty lady.” A greasy looking man at the register smiles at you, leaning over it in a very unappealing manner. His name tag informs you that his name is Keith.

Steve immediately steps in front of you and stares the guy down. “She doesn’t need you thanking her, buddy.”

You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the “general manager” on Keith’s name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he can’t piss off the guy hiring. “Steve, why don’t we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?”

“What–” He doesn’t have a chance to argue, you’re already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick “good luck!” to Robin as you leave.

She talks with Keith, and it seems to be going well. She shows him their resumes, smiles at him kindly. before she shouts across the store to Steve. “Dingus, what are your three favorite movies?”

Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. “Uh, Animal House?” You can practically hear Robin’s disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, “What are my favorite movies?”

“I don’t know!” You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. “Just, name two other movies. Animal House can’t be too bad, right?”

“Star Wars,” Steve manages to get out, now walking back to the register. You stand next to him, looking nervously at Robin, who makes a pained noise at his responses.

The manager stares blankly at him. “A New Hope?”

“A new what now?”

You drop your head into your hands and sigh. He’s hopeless. Already knowing it’s a lost cause, you mumble to him, “It’s a Star Wars movie, Steve.”

He snaps his fingers. “Right! Yeah, it’s the one with the teddy bears, isn’t it?” Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing he’s fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. “No? Uh… Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and he’s trying to bang his mom.”

“Oh, dear.” It’s a trainwreck, one you can’t look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve clears his throat, he knows he’s rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldn’t have dragged you here for the interview. “Those are my top three. Classics.”

Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, “You start Monday.” He points to Steve, “You start never.” And then he points to you, “You can start whenever.”

“Okay, I get why you’re telling me no,” Steve waves a hand in front of you, “but she didn’t even apply!”

You’re also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. She’s good with people, Keith seems to like her. When she sees you silently begging her to fix this, Robin sighs and steps in front of Steve. “Will you just, um… Will you guys give us a minute?”

“Why?” Steve doesn’t move, and you want to throw a shoe at him.

“Let’s go, pretty boy.” You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesn’t fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. “Thanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy I’m currently dragging.”

Robin snickers at Steve’s offended huff as the two of you leave, before she starts trying to convince the manager to let Steve work there. From where you stand, it seems like a heated discussion. You try to lean closer, nosey, and while you’re distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini.

You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.”

“I can sleep right now and find out–”

“I will flick you again.”

“A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

–

When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack.

You spent the night in Jonathan’s room, both of you dreading the morning to come. Neither of you had slept, instead spending the entire night taking turns sharing your favorite memories together. The day you met. The time a dog chased you. When Jonathan mistook your sweater for his and wore it to school. Late night drives. Movie nights with your brothers. You relive it all that night.

As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathan’s room, the warmth the memories brought started to fade away. Slowly, as the sun rose, you and Jonathan packed his room. You helped him organize his vinyls, sort through his mixtapes. When he isn’t looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He won’t notice they’re gone until he’s halfway to California.

When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathan’s life dwindling down to only a few boxes, you wander into the living room and help Joyce pack as well. She sees the tears in your eyes and gives you things to do, but eventually you can’t take it anymore. You go into Will’s room, and it’s the same. You cry, he cries with you, and it’s bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.

El’s room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and you’re both silent as you move through the room together.

With each box that you tape full of things you grew up with, you feel a piece of your childhood being packed away as well. The plates you used to eat off of, the books you used to bring from your job, the toys you passed down to Will. It’s all there, pieces of you frozen in time.

As you tape a box labeled “games” in Jonathan’s messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. It’s one of Max’s better days, she’s teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and she’s in a good mood. The rest of the party keeps her occupied. The kids all arrived as early as Joyce allowed them to, Nancy and Mike were the first to knock on the door.

You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathan’s room. He’s leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one you’ve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything.

All of Jonathan’s boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. There’s a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and you’re never giving them back. They’re all you have left of him.

You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. “It’s so… empty.”

Nancy crosses her arms. “Is that everything?”

“I guess so,” Jonathan stuffs his hands in his pockets. His room feels cold somehow, its emptiness devoids it of the warmth it once had. He can still hear your laughs echoing in the floorboards, he can still smell your perfume that clings onto the walls. There’s scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought it’d be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room.

Jonathan steps into his room, taking it all one last time. The sunlight from his window illuminates his silhouette, making him appear even smaller within the room. “Seventeen years of my life… packed up in one day.”

His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathan’s direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that you’re telling her to say goodbye, giving them the space to do so. She smiles at you appreciatively.

You do it because they love each other, but selfishly a part of you leaves because you can’t say goodbye just yet.

“Thank you,” she whispers, following after Jonathan.

You find El as she’s leaving Joyce’s room. She’s holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. It’s a sad day for everyone, you’ll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesn’t stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug.

“I’ll miss you so much, sweetheart.” You mumble, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know who’s going to paint my nails now.”

El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. “I can ask Mike to.”

You kiss her head again, close your eyes, and pray to whoever is above that this girl will stay who she is forever. That she will never change. Her kindness is genuine, her joy is admirable. All her life she only knew cruelty, and yet she still came out of it so full of love. “I’d love to hear how that goes.”

“I will write you,” El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce.

The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. She’s kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. They’re baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that they’re Hopper’s.

A lump forms in your throat. She shouldn’t be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. “Here, let me help.”

Joyce accepts, and together you sit in comfortable silence as you go through the clothes Hopper left behind. They still smell like him, old cigarettes and whiskey. It’s a nostalgic scene, a part of you wishes you could keep one of his shirts. He had been dear to you, regardless of the constant bickering you faced with him.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. “At all.”

You look up at her, sucking in a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.”

“The guilt, honey.” She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. “I know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldn’t. You have to let go of it. I want…” Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. “I want you to promise me that you’ll live the life that you deserve, because you’ve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?”

“I…” You’re crying, you don’t know what to say. For years you’ve carried the guilt of Will’s disappearance, and for even longer you’ve done everything you could to ensure that he was loved. That Jonathan was loved. Never once had it felt like a burden to you, but Joyce’s words undoes something in you. “I promise.”

Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as she’s always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. “You’re the best of them.”

You’re not sure how long you cry in Joyce’s arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. They’re leaving soon, he’ll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son.

Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after he’s said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. There’s a wistful look on his face, one that you once had on your own when Jonathan was around. Even if Will may not know yet, you do.

“Hey, little bee.”

He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. “Y/N!”

Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. He’s grown so much since you first met him. He’s no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you can’t believe you won’t get to finish watching him grow up. “I swear, you’re going to be taller than me next time I see you. Won’t be able to call you little bee anymore.”

“I’ll always be your little bee,” Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you.

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you already know that.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Will’s voice is wet, more tears come. He pulls away from you, he looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. As if he’s afraid of something.

You frown. “Hey, what is it?”

“I’m scared,” The words rush from his mouth. “What if… What if I don’t make any friends?” He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. “I–I’m different, Y/N.”

Will’s fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you can’t. Instead, all you can do is kiss his cheek and hope he can feel all the love you have for him within it. All you can do is remind him that you will love him through it all. “You’re the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that you’ll be fine. I mean, you’ll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.”

You stroke the boy’s cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. “I’m rooting for you, always.”

Will squeezes you tight when he hugs you for the last time. He thanks you, his body relaxes into yours, and you know that in the end he’ll be okay. He’s a brilliant kid, he’s been through more than anyone else his age ever has. He’s resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day.

As you pull away from the hug, Will’s eyes catch on someone, you turn around. It’s Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you.

It’s time to say goodbye.

Taking a deep breath, you walk towards him, and Jonathan takes your hand and guides you to the porch outside. Everyone else is still inside, packing. You sit side by side in silence, absorbing the final remaining moments alone with each other. Saying goodbye to your childhood best friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

A ladybug crawls on a leaf next to you, a bee flies past you and lands on a sunflower nearby, and a bird chirps in the blue sky above. You rest your head on Jonathan’s shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.

“I made you something,” Jonathan breathes out, clears his throat. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a mixtape, its front covered with a piece of paper listing all the songs on it. “I, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.”

You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long it’d take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. There’s eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you don’t know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. “How long have you been making this, bee?”

Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. “A while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, I’ll never have to know.” His demeanor is odd, there’s something he’s not telling you, but it’s your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it.

“You’re not allowed to find a new best friend.” You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. It’s a joke, though truthfully you don’t want Jonathan to find another best friend. He’s supposed to be yours, only yours, and you’re supposed to be his.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and you’re going to miss feeling the way his body moves as he does so. He sucks in a breath, releases it slowly, and shakes his head. “I mean, we were kids together, bug.”

You start to cry, and he does as well. You’ve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathan’s childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and it’s all so unfair.

Jonathan touches his forehead to yours. You look into his eyes and know that your childhood will always live within him, and his within you. Jonathan brings his finger up to your bee necklace, his ladybug ring knocks against the pendant. The jewelry glistens in the sunlight.

“Bee, we were more than just kids together.”

And it’s true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart.

–

The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, you’re all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye.

You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared he’s been of high school and remorseful that he has to do it all alone. The kids all cry as they share the final hugs, Jonathan and Nancy cry as they hold one another. Everyone says goodbye, and you watch them with tears in your eyes. You turn to Joyce to kiss her cheek, but she grabs your arm instead.

“Remember what you promised me, okay?” She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what she’s telling you. “Live the life that you deserve.”

“I will,” you exhale, and she seems content with that. Joyce hugs you, kisses your cheek, and you tell her to drive safe as she gets into the van.

Jonathan stands by his car, waiting for you, and you pull the boy into your arms. He crashes against you, clutches you to his chest, and you breathe him in one final time. “I’ll always love you the most, bee.”

“And I’ll always love you the most, bug.”

Joyce drives away first, El in the van with her, before Jonathan and Will follow. The car pulls out of its driveway one final time, and you hold Nancy’s hand as you both cry. Slowly, their cars fade into the distance, and one by one the kids hop on their bikes and pedal away. No one wants to stay, the empty house feels too permanent, solemn. Eventually Nancy gets into her own car, wishing you a quiet goodbye, until it’s just you and your brother standing in front of the house.

Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again.

You take one last look at the Byers home, the house you grew up in and discovered pure love and joy and naivety in, and inhale the final scent of your childhood. Dandelions are in bloom, its yellow surrounds the home, soon they will wilt and its seeds will litter the sky

Joyce’s words ring in your head.

It’s time to live the life that you deserve. You’re on your own now, though you know that really you aren’t. Dustin is next to you, Steve and Robin are waiting at your house with movies stolen from work because they knew how hard today would be. Your mother has your favorite cookies ready and waiting for you. Mike and the others have already planned their first letter to Will.

The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist.

You’re no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. You’re loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new.

Slowly, you exhale your childhood, with a single promise of keeping it within you forever. To live the life that Joyce has told you that you deserve.

And you believe her.

[END OF SEASON THREE]

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nanivinsmoke · 4 months ago

Text

✩ Both Ain’t Shit

dilf!toji x fem!reader

♪ tender was the kiss when you held me captive….

he lying to me im lying to him…. ♪

warnings : features suguru geto & utahime, cheating, toji is married and has a child, age gap (late 20s late 30s), angst, cursing, break up-sex, mutual affair, slut shaming, pussy eating, blow job, face sitting, creampies, squirting, half a happy ending (?), mentions gojo and shoko, etc….

✩ notes: wc ~ 4.9k, finally gave yall a oneshot with a plot! and i seen the results for the poll for lost without you and im getting to it, dont yall worry—i got yall for real.

lying. I guess that’s what this whole relationship was made of. nothing but lies.

that’s how you ended up here, lying to him.

you hated liars, but this lie just felt so good.

“sh-sh…shit toji! please, don’t st—“ your eyes rolled back and you grinded on his face, cumming all over his scarred lips; as he sucked on your clit like he was an old person that found some butterscotch.

your legs shook, his lips still attached to your sensitive clit, working you to another orgasm; but much to your dismay his phone started to ring. you groaned and quickly removed yourself from his face, knowing exactly who was calling him at this hour.

grunting when he sat up, the older man reached and answered his phone, watching you as you began to get dressed. “yeah baby, im coming home right now….i'll pick up some diapers—alright, love you too.” he hung up, eyes focused on as you struggled to pull your light blue jeans over your ass.

“i can help you with, c’mere~” he flirted, pulling you close by your jean’s belt loop holes. you rolled your eyes and pulled away, jumping to finally get them up. “don’t you gotta get some diapers? go help with that. besides, I gotta get home before geto comes back.”

he sucked his teeth at your remark and started putting his own clothes on, ignoring his own hard on, “I don’t see why you still with him. he don’t even make you happy.”

“oh? you’re one to talk. remember why we broke up in the first place? only for you to go do what I wanted with her….” he was silent, the only thing that could be heard was the two of you moving around the apartment. both of you always came here whenever you wanted to get away from your partners, which always led to hot, sticky sex.

“oh. and don’t ask my why i'm still with him, when you’re still with her. did you forget that? cat got your tongue?” you egged on, watching his facial expression change. he slipped on his shirt and grabbed his keys, before brushing past you. “whatever, y/n.”

you turned the key into your townhouse’s door, slipping your shoes off and placing the key on the nearby island’s, marble countertop. “geto?” you yelled out, only to not receive an answer. you noticed some take out on the counter and walked over to it, while taking your phone off do not disturb—seeing a message from your boyfriend.

✩ ‘staying at gojo’s tonight, he’s having a get together with some old friends. hope you had fun at utahime’s. ordered you some dinner, goodnight my love and see you at work tomorrow’

you swallowed your guilt along with a spoonful of fried rice as you finished reading his message. a guilty heart only leads to disaster and disappointment, and right now you didn’t have time for either. you had your reasons for cheating, none of them forgivable, but you had them. one of reasons were that you were still in love with your ex. you hadn’t gotten over the breakup and yes, you should just break up with geto, but just thinking what he would say or do was killing you and you don’t think you would be able to handle that. so you stayed, cheating with the one who broke your heart.

after eating the food geto got for you, you turned on your shower and started slipping off your clothes—cringing when you peeled off your cold, sticky panties. your were soaked and flashbacks from earlier, turned you on.

you typed on your phone, sending a text message to toji’s second number and telling him how wet he made you—and that you were disappointed that he didn’t let you cum all over his dick. stepping into the shower you let the coursing hot water drip all over your body, washing away your guilt as the lust increased inside your body.

finishing your shower off with an electric ending and getting yourself ready for bed, your phone chimed with a text from toji.

✩ ‘pretty girl always wet for me. ill stretch her out soon’

your clit throbbed at his message and you quickly sent one back.

✩ ‘he’s not here tonight, you can come over and put that to fruition.’

he immediately liked the message and texted back that he was on his way. no longer than ten minutes later, he was here; wearing a black tee that hugged his muscular torso and your favorite pants of his—grey nike sweatpants. the man was fueled with need for you.

closing the door behind him, he picked you up with ease and sat you on top of your kitchen’s island; big rough hands immediately going underneath your t-shirt. his scarred lips turned up into a smirk, loving how wet you were for him and when his finger ran over your clit; he loved the way you jolted at his touch.

as toji kneeled down, you stopped him by holding his head with your hand. “toji….dont tease me—please just put it in already.~”

“shut up. if I wanna taste my pretty girl then i'm going to. she misses me—mhm” he dove straight into your middle, swiping his tongue between your slit and tasting your sweet silky fluids. you tossed your head back and gripped his raven locks as he ate you out with such precision. and when he added two of his fingers to the mix, stretching you out, it wasn’t long before you came—all over his face. you squirted, drenching his face with your sweet nectar.

this was your first time squirting for him and devilish smirk appeared on his face. “you could do that this whole time? don’t tell me, you’ve been squirting for him?” he sent a smack to your quivering cunt, making you yelp out. you and geto haven’t had sex in a while and when you guys did get in the mood, it was always something simple; like blow jobs or cock warming. maybe that’s another reason why you’re cheating…

“n-no, i guess i…—yes!—i just missed you….don’t stop toji, g’nna cum again~” he drilled his fingers back inside of you mid sentence, working another powerful orgasm out of you, ending it with the same result as before—with you squirting on him once more. he slurped up every last bit of your essence before removing himself from between your legs and pulling his gray sweatpants down—revealing his girth.

your eyes fluttered down to his cock, the glow of sticky precum on his pretty tip had your mouth salivating. “turn around,” he ordered while pumping his cock and you immediately got into his favorite position. you got on your hands and knees, ass up high in the air with your legs spread, so he could see your slick coated cunt in all its glory.

he pulled a hiss from your lips when he pushed his head through your tightness, you arched your back up too high for him, earning a smack to your plump cheeks. “lower it~” he grunted and you whined, slowly lowering your back down into the perfect arch.

“‘s..too big—shit, take some out please daddy~” you felt another stinging sensation to your ass and you whined some more. “you can take it—smack—now quit yer whining—smack—and let daddy make this cunt his again~,” with each smack, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside of your sopping wet pussy; filing you to the brim was his cock.

he stayed like the for a moment, feelin pity on you before he pulled out and slammed himself back inside of you again; a scream crawling out of your mouth. he repeated the action, your walls clinging to him with each stroke, driving him insane. mewls spilled out of your mouth as his tip rubbed against that sensitive spongy spot, making you clench frantically around him.

“must’ve really missed me, hm? creamin all on my dick—fuck!” he held onto your hips, watching the cream build up, making his tan cock a nice shade of milky white.

the sound of your cunt squelching with each stroke drove the both of you crazy, minds fucked out with arousal. feeling that ball in your stomach increase with each pleasure-filled second. you pushed your ass back harder against him while reaching down to fondle his potent balls—egging on his orgasm. toji let out a loud grunt, his green eyes darting to your pretty face.

“so fucking good—please fill me up daddy, please~.” you begged, breathless as you looked at him from over your shoulder with hooded eyes, lashes fluttering.

“that’s what you want? want me to fill my pretty girl up—make you swollen with my seed? hm?” he pulled your head back by entangling his fingers into your hair, each stroke deepening as a result. you nodded frantically, and he pressed his lips roughly against yours, hips slamming into your ass repeadlty—clapping sounds echoing throughout the room. with each passing second and each stroke, your orgasm approached faster and faster; and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

your eyes rolled back as you gushed all over him, pushing him right out of your leaking cunt; your fluids soiling the bottom of his shirt and his sweatpants. he grabbed his throbbing cock and pushed right back into you, his pace hard and faster.

“making a mess all over my dick, just makes me want to breed your pussy some more.~” with a few more strokes, he painted your inner walls with his thick, pearly-white load, and a wave of euphoria washed over you. his cock twitched inside of you, and he grunted into your ear, pulling himself out and plunging his fingers into your sticky hole.

“gonna make you squirt over and over again, and im going to make sure there’s a kid in you by the end of the night. get that ass in the bedroom.~” he growled and helped you off the island, smacking your ass in the process.

the long, raven haired woman walked lazily over to the door, wondering who the fuck was pounding on it like a mad man, and when she opened it her face dropped. “suguru, what are you doing here?”

he leaned against the door frame smiling, letting himself into her house, kicking his shoes off by the door. “what’s the matter hime’, you didn’t miss me?” he held her by her waist, gripping her smaller backside into his hands. utahime shook her head, lying, stepping back to readjust her robe.

“you shouldn’t be here. does y/n know you’re here?” she asked, folding her arms underneath her breasts. he pulled her over to her brown soft sofa, and sat her on his lap, “no, does she know you liked to be fucked raw by her boyfriend?” her honey brown eyes widened and she looked elsewhere. “no…”

utahime was your best friend since forever, she kept your secrets and you kept her’s. she was your scapegoat when you wanted to go see toji, she considered herself to be a girls girl, despite sleeping with your boyfriend every other night. this little secret relationship started when geto popped up at her house one time, looking for you because you left your work badge at home. but, when he didn’t see your car outside and you weren’t inside either, he realized that you had lied.

it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together, and he figured out that you were lying from the start. he didn’t know what you were doing nor did he care, he just knew you had hurt him by lying. utahime took pity to him that night, she didn’t give you up, but she still felt for him. she hated seeing him hurt, and the way his eyes lost emotion, pained her. so, she pitied him in the best way she knew how; sex.

and here she was, about to pity him again for the third night in a row. she looked into his eyes and pressed her lips against his, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his. she pulled away, a wave of heat washed over her and a trail of spit followed, she was breathless. utahime undid her robe, revealing her beautiful nude body. “make love to me geto~”

and that’s what he did, for the rest of the night, until sunrise.

“class is dismissed! papers are due friday and there will be no assignments for the weekend. see you until then!” you dismissed your class, watching the room empty out before you turned to dust off your chalkboard.

the muscular male eased into your lecture hall, tip toeing his way down, so you wouldn’t hear him; standing at the bottom to watch how good your ass looked in your pencil skirt, jiggling as you struggled to reach the top of the blackboard.

“need some help?” toji’s deep voice alerted you, making you stumble and drop the chalk filled eraser—causing the powder to fly everywhere. he chuckled and watched your pretty face turn into a frown. he was now in front of you and helped you dust off your outfit, sneaking in some loving grabs to your boobs.

“what are you doing here?” accepting his kiss as he pulled you over to him while he sat on the edge of your desk, his huge hands caressing your heavy backside. “got time for a quickie?~” he flirted, lips contorted in his infamous smirk. as you opened your mouth to reply, his phone began to ring and he reached back to answer it.

“what’s the matter, baby?” you pushed his hands off of you and your face contorted with disgust. you were jealous and that was a fact, his wife had everything you had ever wanted. she had his last name and his child, and she didn’t understand why he didn’t choose her?

toji stayed on the phone with his wife for a few more minutes, before he told her that he had to get back to work. he turned and saw the look on your face, and his softened.

“why’d you choose her, toji? your voice cracked as you spoke, while tears threatened to leave your eyes. he didn’t have a reason, he never did. so, he did what he did best, deflect.

“don’t start that again. you’re still in a relationship with him, dragging it on knowing there’s only one possible outcome for you two. the relationship is dead, y/n?”

“oh? but your’s isn’t? and don’t tell me nothing about mines when you keep coming back to me, when you’re supposed to be with her right? the woman you claim to love?! you gave her everything toji. I love you, how am I supposed to feel?” you were now bawling your eyes out, poking his chest with outrage, all while you poured your heart out. he didn’t know what to say to you, left speechless. you were right after all.

your phone chimed and you looked at the smart watch on your wrist, checking the notification. wiping your tears away, you went inside your desk’s wooden drawer and pulled out your purse.

“I don’t have time for this…do me a favor and just…stop pulling me back in, just for it to end up the same.”

you sat down with your best friend and boy friend, at a nearby restaurant, agreeing to meet them for lunch. it had been a while since you were all together, however there was one missing.

“where’s satoru?” you asked, picking at your noodles as you spoke—your mind still stuck on what happened between you and toji. you couldn’t help but to look at geto with soft eyes. for the first time you didn’t swallow you guilt, instead you let it through. you were sorry and thought about telling him everything.

“he’s busy flirting with some girl, as always.” utahime said with an eye roll, causing you to chuckle. you scanned your best friend’s face and noticed a bruise on her neck.

“utahime, is that a hickey i see!” you pointed out with a smile on your face. the girl blushed and felt her neck, sharing a look with geto before the two looked away. but, you caught that. and the longer you stared at the two, it dawned on you. as much as you wanted to scream, and curse the two of them out, you couldn’t. outing them right now with no evidence would only backfire. you had to play it safe.

you sent a smile to geto and held the top of his hand, a fake smile plastered onto your face. all the guilt you had washed away.

on the way home, you thought about what you saw. your best friend and your boyfriend? that was the worst thing to ever happen to you. yeah, you were the first one to step out of your relationship with geto, but you weren’t fucking his best friend. that was a different type of low.

you couldn’t believe utahime, after everything you both been through. she was more than your best friend, she was like your sister. you thought she had your back like you had hers, but it was clear that—that wasn’t the case. she was going to get hers, the both of them. however, for now only one of them were going to be punished.

you were fresh out of the shower, wearing a grey t-shirt and a navy blue thong; your hair laid freely in its natural state. you looked at geto, as he sat on your king sized bed and shook your head. you crawled on the bed and over to him, hovering over him; gaining his full attention. he smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but you pulled back and shook your head. he rose and eyebrow and watched as you grinded against his clothed crotch, reaching to hold your hips, but you swatted them.

he didn’t deserve to touch you. this wasn’t intimacy, this was goodbye. this was his punishment.

you rolled your hips, staring into his purplish eyes, biting your lip when you felt his boner poking your cunt. he watched as you pulled his boxers down and turned around, sliding your panties to the side—positing himself at your sodden entrance, before you lowered yourself down on him. he groaned, you were so tight; it had been a while for the two of you.

you rocked your hips before bending over slightly, your ass in view; as you began to ride him. you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning, he didn’t deserve to know how good he felt, how wet you were. he could tell something was wrong with you, the way you moved without looking back at him or letting him touch you. however, he wasn’t going to say anything, instead he laid back and watched as your ass collided with his pelvis, strings of your wetness sticking to him.

a singular tear rolled out of your eye and you didn’t bother to wipe away. you were hurt, for the second time in your life. how do you keep ending up in these situations? was it you? were you the bad one? no, you just happened to fall in love with the worst people.

“fuck, baby. g’na make me cum~” he warned and you worked your hips faster, your own orgasm approaching. feeling his cock throb, you rode faster and slammed your ass down on him, until you pulled him out of you; his seed dripping on your plump cheeks. he was too wrapped up in his pleasure to notice any of your tears.

suguru laid breathless and watched as you got up from the bed and over to the adjoining bathroom. geto sighed and grabbed his phone, snapping a picture of his semi hard cock and sent it to utahime.

as you sat on the toilet, your phone chimed and you looked at everything. when you got home, geto was the first to shower and left his phone in the bedroom, which allowed you to go into his phone and made a short cut with his messages. so, everytime he sent a text to utahime, it was sent to you phone too. you also sent yourself all of their previous messages before deleting it on his end.

you stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind you; alerting the long haired male.

“my best friend? out of all the people in the world you just had to go an fuck my best friend!” you held up you phone to his face, every single message, nude, love note—was in your grasp.

it was no use denying it either, he couldn’t. not when you had hardcore evidence shining in his face. so, he got mad and deflected.

“i wouldn’t have to cheat if you didn’t lie about where you were. I wouldn’t have to cheat if you showed me some love. now would I?” he retorted. youd eyes widened and you couldn’t help but chuckle. he had no idea where you actually were all the time and I guess you could thank utahime for that, after you kicked her ass.

“are you fucking serious? that’s why you cheated, because I lied about where I was? that’s your fucking excuse?!” you were seething, he was a fucking idiot. you walked over to your closet and began to take your things off of the hooks, shoving them into your huge duffle bag.

“you wanna know where I was so bad? getting my brains fucked out by my ex. every single night when I told you I was at utahime’s, I was letting him cum in me so much, i’m surprised I haven’t gotten pregnant.” now he was seething, he grabbed your bagged and tossed it onto the bed; getting in your face, but you weren’t scared—you were going to stand ten toes down.

“and finally the slut confesses! going back to your ex? isn’t he married? think he’s going to leave his wife for your raggedy, used up ass?” he started chuckling when he saw your face change, he had got you right where he wanted you. hurt.

you sniffed back the tears and moved past him, grabbing your duffle bag amongst other things, slipping on a pair of sweatpants before walking to the living room with suguru hot on your trail.

“you know you’re a fucking idiot. you call me a slut, but you went to utahime’s house on a whim to fuck her because you didn’t know my whereabouts, does she know that she isn’t the only one either? ive checked every single message suguru, icloud too,” you grabbed the rest of your things out of the living room, before you grabbed your keys.

“should’ve let gojo and shoko eat my pussy when they wanted to, then I’d really be a slut. fuck you, suguru. and go to hell,” with that, you detached the apartment’s key and threw it onto the island—slamming the door behind you, leaving him for good.

as you turned the knob to the apartment across town, the door swung open and you were face to face with toji’s chest. he looked down—opening his mouth to speak, only realized the stream of tears rolling down your pretty face. he quickly pulled you inside and hugged you; letting you soak his dark grey shirt with your sadness.

you dropped your bag as he rubbed your back, soothing you as you calmed down, before you pulled back and he placed you on top of the kitchen counter. “what happened?”

you told him everything, about him and utahime, to the nasty argument, to the break up; and by the time you got finished he was angry. “ill kill him,” he started to walk away, but you grabbed him by his wrist and shook your head.

“he isn’t worth it, as much as I would love to see that happen; he really is garbage and his karma will come.” you half smiled at him before you realized something. “why are you here? trouble with your wife?”

“actually…we just got a divorce. I had one of my lawyer friends bring over the paperwork that I asked for months in advance, and we both signed it. I told her about you, how I felt about you, and the affair. she was devastated.” you pouted, another person hurt by this affair, you felt like you only had yourself to blame.

and then he moved closer to you, picking your face up by your chin; your eyes fluttering as he stared into them, “I love you, y/n. never stopped. the only reason I married her is because she was having my baby. I was a fool who didn’t use a condom, but I was an even bigger fool for rubbing everything in your face. i'm sorry.”

your eyes widened. he had never said ‘I love you’ to you before, only you with him. and to here that he never stopped only made your heart swell. you couldn't give a fuck about anything else but what was happening now. “toji!~”

you cooed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a deep—passionate kiss. your lips moved in sync, your hands exploring each other’s body’s, just before you pulled away.

“what about your son?”

“she agreed on joint custody, which is good. we’ll alternate weeks and I gave her the house. now, ya got anymore questions? ‘cause, I need to make love to you.” you shook your head no quickly, and he picked you up, and carried you to the bathroom, almost sucking your face off in the process.

as soon as your feet touched the cool tiles, you proceeded to rip your clothes off, while he did the same—ignoring the cool, sticky feeling on your panties. he quickly turned on the shower, letting the water steam up all while he kissed you. he blindly led you into the shower, his hands glued to your ass; the plushness captivating him.

the steaming waters trickled across your bodies; adding to the sensual atmosphere, and helped your arousal peak. you kissed down his chiseled torso until you were face to face with his raging boner, not even hesitating to place him into your mouth.

toji groaned, his hand going straight to your wet hair, pushing your head down further onto his cock—deepthroating him. your eyes widened and filled with tears, but you kept him deep in your mouth; until you pulled away to catch your breath. you kept eye contact with him while you jerked him off, a mixture of spit and water coated his cock. “cum in my mouth, ‘kay?” you were so cute to him, he couldn’t help but nod; sucking in some air when you took him back into your mouth.

you swirled your tongue on his tip, frenching it; while teasing his balls. then you removed your hands and only used the back of your throat to please him, the sound of your gags were like music to his ears. and soon, he couldn’t hold back anymore—grabbing your head so he could fuck your pretty face to his liking.

“so…fucking…nasty!” he grunted, your cheeks puffing up with each thrust. your hand flew down to your throbbing clit, rubbing it while your eyes rolled back into your head. it didn’t take long before he spurted his thick warm load into your mouth—forcing your to deep throat him once more.

you swallowed what you can, before he let go and you pulled away; letting it trickle out once you opened your mouth, showing him the flowy white liquid before swallowing the rest.

toji pulled you up by your wet hair, kissing you again—tongue swirling on yours as he tasted himself. you moaned, feeling his fingers find their way to your wet cunt. he picked you up once more, swiftly pushing his head inside your aching entrance. “fuckkkk, baby.~” you dragged out, throwing your head back, walls stretching as he slowly pumped in and out of you.

the more he moved, the hornier the two of you became, and soon his pace quickened. the sound of your cunt squelching, and your heart beating in your ears drowned out the shower’s loudness, fueling his arousal. he gripped your ass with both of his hands and proceeded to pound your cunt—causing air to be pushed in, making you queef repeatedly.

“she’s talking to me, miss daddy’s cock. hm?” he grunted, listening to the lewd sounds of your moans and your pretty pussy talking to him. you moaned, unable to formulate a sentence due to the overwhelming pleasure. his cock rubbed against your spot with each thrust and you could feel that bubble inside, getting ready to burst.

“gna cum on this dick? hm, pretty?—answer me!” he growled into your ear, and held your waist, smacking your ass before putting his hands back onto your fatness.

“yes! yes! gonna cum all over your dick, daddy!~” you squealed and he slammed harder, bursting your bubble. you were silent as your cunt gushed, a complete contrast from the shower above you.

“that’s it baby girl, let it out. gonna get another one out of you~” his hands stayed glued to your ass and his pace stayed the same, overstimulating your leaky cunt. drool pooled out of your mouth as you let go once more, your liquids splashing the shower’s walls and drenching his cock once more.

he didn’t stop pounding once your orgasmed again, as his own was mere seconds behind you. with a few more thrusts, he slammed inside of you—holding you there while he painted your walls white, cock twitch as he emptied his load inside your tummy.

“let’s get you out of this shower before you pass out,” he chuckled and helped clean your body off.

after a few more rounds of love making, the two of you laid in bed, cuddled up to one another. toji had drifted off to sleep, after you took charge in the last two rounds; ultimately making him tap out.

you stared at his beautiful resting face, heart swollen with pure love and happiness. you had finally got what you wanted. turning on your side, you backed yourself into his embrace; ready to drift off to sleep—until your phone buzzed.

turning the brightness down, you checked the message from an unknown number.

✩ ‘we need to talk, now’

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