#i ran out of space the list is so long

[navybrat817]

Sweet as a Berry

Pairing: Farmer!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: You go to the local market to buy berries and meet the man of your dreams.

Word Count: Over 3.5k

Warnings: Fluff, meet-cute, flirting, tension, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Welcome to my Bountiful Harvest AU ( or Farmer Fall as discussed with @thezombieprostitute and @witchywithwhiskey ) and our intro to farmer!Bucky. Thanks to @yenzys-lucky-charm and @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me babble about this man. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your weekly trip to the farmers market was one you looked forward to. A place for merchants to come together to offer an abundance of products, there was always something to browse or discover. Today you only had one thing on your list: berries for your pies. Frozen fruit did the job, but you preferred to bake your pies with fresh fruit. Buying from the market was also a way to support local farmers. Maybe one day you'd even bag a handsome farmer for yourself. It was a silly fantasy, of course, but your mind liked to wander some days.

Not that there was anything wrong with city men, but they couldn't compare to a man working on a farm. There was just something about a guy who knew how to work with nature and provide, wasn't intimidated by hard work or afraid to get his hands dirty, and had a strong body and character due to his work ethic. You liked to think you’d make a good wife and take care of him the way he’d take care of you. You also liked to imagine a handsome man walking inside after a long day and stripping down and wanting dessert before a hearty meal. And by dessert, you meant you.

For now, you were only a farmer’s wife in your dreams and journal.

The gravel crunched under your tires as you turned down the road, the market coming into focus. You made good time and managed to snag a decent parking space. A little bit of walking wouldn’t hurt. Plus the day was nice enough that you wore one of your sundresses, the soft breeze pleasant against your skin once you got out of your car.

Lively chatter greeted you as you got closer to the stalls and booths and expertly weaved your way through the bustling crowd. The various produce and flowers created a kaleidoscope of colors, brightened more by the brilliant rays coming from the sun. The earthy fragrance that blended with the sweet and ripe aromas was one you only encountered here. There was nothing else quite like it.

Quick movement in front of you made you come to a stop, your heart jumping. Had you not been paying attention you would've collided with a little boy. “Mama, there's Dada! He’s getting honey!” He shouted as he ran past and threw his arms around a man’s legs.

“Walk, please, and watch where you're going!” His mother said after him, a both fond and exasperated look on her face as she gave you a tired smile. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No apologies,” you smiled. He hadn't done anything wrong. “I wish I had that energy.”

“Same. I’d bottle and sell it,” she said over her shoulder.

Watching as the woman went to her son and husband, both of them looking at her like the sun rose today because of her, you felt a twinge of sadness. Your trips to the market were solo, always had been. You longed to have a partner to go with, someone to put his arm around you or hold your hand as you picked out items together. Even better if the two of you could make a family down the line.

With a wistful smile, you shook yourself from those thoughts. There was no reason to feel sorry for yourself. Just because you didn't have that in the present didn't mean it wouldn't happen in the future. You had to have faith that the right one would come along at the right time.

For now, you would find some berries and be on your way.

Walking a bit further, you spotted a booth you hadn't seen in your previous visits. The sign that read “Barnes’s Berries” complete with hand painted fruit pieces piqued your curiosity as you stopped in front of it. As the customers in front of you paid for their bundles and blocked the view of the person assisting them, you took a minute to admire the range of berries reflecting a spectrum from blues to reds. Your mouth watered from the sight. There were so many things you could do with these. Pies, jams, cakes-

A deep, husky voice asked, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

You made some sort of sound as you turned around, your heart pounding in your chest. The man in front of you was tall with thick thighs that deliciously filled out his jeans. The rolled up plaid shirt exposed part of his arms. The left was covered in tattoos and the ink couldn't hide the muscles or veins. If anything, it accentuated his strength. His chest and shoulders seemed to go on for miles, too. The chestnut hair that fell below his chin and stubble on his face gave the already handsome man a rugged look.

Sapphire eyes crinkled when you made eye contact and he smiled so softly that you couldn't help but smile in return. A man of his size and stature working a berry stand when he looked like he could easily chop wood or build his own home was otherworldly. He didn't just step out of your fantasy. He took your thoughts and made them better than you could've imagined.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” He asked again a bit hesitantly when you didn’t answer his question. “If you're still looking, please, take your time.”

“You’re real, right?” You asked, your face heating up as the words left your mouth. A giggle followed because you couldn’t believe you just said that. “What I meant to say is, yeah. Just looking for now,” you added to save face, smoothing out your dress for no reason.

Amusement filled his eyes, the soft smile still tugging at his lips. “I sure hope I’m real and not just a figment of your imagination.”

You wished you could reach out and touch him to “prove” he was real, but didn’t want to weird him out. “Not a figment of my imagination,” you said, but that wasn’t totally true. You very much imagined a man like him when you were alone at night. “But I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” It wasn't like you knew every single vendor, but you would've remembered him.

He sure as hell had a face worth remembering.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced, offering you his hand. His grip was gentler than you expected, but there was no mistaking the roughness in his touch. The man worked with his hands and it showed. “This is actually my first week here.”

You said your name, proud that you remembered it with the way he was staring so intently at you. He stood a bit close, too. Close enough that you could smell his woodsy cologne. Subtle, yet enticing. “I hope everyone has been welcoming.”

“Most have been very friendly, which has made my job easy,” he said. You could imagine with his looks and friendly demeanor despite his size that he’d have a lot of repeat customers. “A couple of my friends recently started selling here, too, so it’s good to have some familiar faces close by.”

“That’s really nice. I’m sure they're glad you're close by, too,” you smiled. You wondered who his friends were. “Did you have to travel far to get here?”

“Yeah, they’re good guys,” he smiled back, your heart racing when he ran a hand through his hair. “Not too far since my farm is only a few miles away, which also makes things easier. Makes me wonder why I didn't do this sooner.”

You nearly swooned. Your dream man was becoming dreamier by the second. “You have a farm not too far from here?”

It would’ve been easy to assume he did since he had a stand here, but not everyone who worked the market had their own land. It was also easy to assume he wasn't married since you didn't see a ring on his left hand or any sort of tan line or indentation to indicate that he removed a ring. A man like that though probably had a partner. It wasn't worth getting your hopes up.

“Yeah. I have a few acres. Beautiful place. but if I’m being honest it gets a bit lonely since it’s just me out there with no one to share it with.” He scratched the back of his neck with a small chuckle and avoided your gaze. “I don't know why I said that. That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Your stomach did a funny flip. Not just because he pretty much let it slip that he wasn't with anyone when you assumed moments ago that he was, but from the urge to comfort him taking over. You wished you could wrap him in a hug.

“Well, I don't have a farm, but I understand feeling lonely some days,” you admitted. Being vulnerable with a complete stranger wasn't how you expected your day to go, but you wanted him to know he wasn't alone in that feeling. “And it’s not embarrassing,” you assured him. If anything, it was endearing.

He slowly met your gaze. “I appreciate that.” He rubbed the back of his neck again as your heart began to race. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I find it hard to believe that someone as sweet and beautiful as you gets lonely.”

The compliment left you momentarily dazed before a shy smile graced your face. You could've said the same thing about him. Maybe the instant connection you felt wasn’t so one-sided. “Well, I do. Even coming here, I’m usually by my lonesome” you said, the words not at all bitter. Just honest. “And do you call all potential customers sweet and beautiful?”

“No, I don’t.” He continued to gaze at you before he cleared his throat. “But you said potential customer. If I made you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t.” It was gentlemanly that he wanted to make sure that his comment didn’t put you off. “There’s a stand a little further down that I sometimes stop at, though your berries are extremely tempting.”

Bucky’s brows pinched before he snapped his fingers. “Jed, right? He’s actually not here this week. Had an accident recently. Broke his leg.”

You gasped. “Oh, my god. That’s awful.” Jed was a kind, older farmer who had been there for as long as you could remember. A hard worker who didn’t deserve any kind of pain. “I hope he heals quickly.”

Bucky nodded solemnly. “So, do I,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m no Jed, but is there anything I can do to get your business today?”

The hopeful look in his blue eyes had you smiling slightly. “Well, I-”

“Wait. Let me try to guess what you’re specifically looking for before you tell me.” He waited until you nodded. “Clearly berries, but not for anything like a fruit salad or an everyday snack,” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and you tried not to giggle when he grinned triumphantly. “Pies. You want berries to make pies. Blueberries, right? Maybe blackberries, too. And if I had to pick a third, raspberries.”

Your mouth fell open. Was he a mind reader? “Yeah, that’s exactly it. Blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries. I have this triple berry pie recipe that I love and I make the crust from scratch and…” You bit your lip to keep from rambling. He didn’t need to hear all that. “Sorry. I just like to bake.”

“No apologies.” His light touch to your arm surprised you as he met your gaze. “You sound very passionate about it and I like that.”

You found yourself nodding, unable to tear your gaze away. It took everything within you to not blurt out how gorgeous he was. And on top of that, he was kind? Maybe he wasn’t real. “I am passionate about it. And not just pies. Other treats, too,” you said, nodding to the strawberries. “Those would be perfect for mini shortcakes or scones.”

He studied you with an appreciative smirk. The sundress was a good choice. “I have no doubt your treats are delicious and you are making me very hungry,” he said, your heart thudding. The smirk disappeared as quickly as it appeared when he gestured to his stand. “And I think they’ll be tastier with my berries.”

You blinked, stuck on the fact that he called your treats delicious. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like he called you delicious and he hadn’t tasted anything of yours, though you’d find a way to bake something and deliver it to him personally if he asked. “You sound very confident, Bucky.”

He puffed his chest out. “I take a lot of pride in all my crops. Tell you what,” he said, stepping away from you to grab a sample cup. “Why don’t you try some and see how you like them? If they aren't the best berries you’ve ever tasted, I’ll shut my stand down and let you on your way.”

“You’ll really shut your stand down? That’s a big wager,” you smiled, his fingers touching yours as he handed the cup over. It heated you up all over again. “The look of them alone is amazing,” you said, the vibrant berries beckoning for you to have a bite.

“Taste amazing, too, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

Bucky shot you a dazzling smile as you tried the blueberry first since that was the berry you were most interested in purchasing today. You didn’t care if it was mortifying, you outright moaned at the flavor when you bit down on the small and plump piece of fruit. Not overly sweet or acidic as the juice coated your tongue. It was the perfect balance. So much that you licked your lips and craved another.

Your eyes honed in on the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest before your gaze flickered to his face. His eyes were darker and you realized after a moment that he was staring at your mouth. A look like that could’ve made you choke on your breath, but it somehow gave you a burst of confidence. Testing the waters, you tried the blackberry next and made a show of licking your lips again at the sweet and succulent taste. The groan he let out shot a burst of heat between your legs.

God, he looked like he was ready to eat you whole.

“Delicious,” you said in a sultry voice you didn't recognize.

“You, um…” He brought a hand up and brushed his thumb along the corner of your mouth. You quivered when he showed you the drop of juice that you missed. Without breaking eye contact, he licked the drop away. It was a look that melted your insides when he said in a gruff tone, “You're right. Delicious.”

“Excuse me?” A woman spoke, making you jump back a bit from Bucky and pulling you both out of the moment. She might as well have dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. “I’d like to buy these.”

Your heart continued to race when you saw disappointment flash in his eyes. “Go ahead,” you smiled. He was there to do a job after all, not chat and flirt with you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky turned his head toward the customer. “Of course, ma’am,” he smiled, still glancing back at you momentarily as if was afraid you’d walk away if he didn’t keep an eye on you.

Biting your lip, you held in a giggle as you tossed the sample cup into the small wastebasket. You swore you felt him gazing at you as you gathered up the bundles. Maybe you didn’t need to bend so far over to get the last bundle, but was it wrong that you wanted him to look? It wasn’t every day that you had a kind, handsome farmer flirting with you. It would have you walking on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

Turning toward the table to pay, you gasped when you nearly collided with Bucky. He managed to grab your arms to keep you from falling and you somehow didn’t drop a single bundle as he stared into your eyes. “You know, I think you’re even sweeter than my berries,” he spoke in a low voice, swiftly taking everything from your hands and lining them in a box before your brain could process what he said. “This everything then?”

“Yeah.” You blinked and got your money out to pay. “Thanks. And keep the change.”

He shook his head when he saw the amount you gave him. “Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“Please. I insist,” you smiled. He took a lot of pride in his work and any extra change could go toward that.

“I’ll keep it on two conditions,” he said, nodding to the box. “One, you let me be a gentleman and help you carry that to your car, that way you’re not stuck carrying it around.”

You nodded, butterflies in your stomach. “Okay, if you insist on being a gentleman.” He was nice enough that he wanted to step away from his stand and carry something for you. He really kept getting better and better. “And the second condition?” You asked with a coy smile. Maybe if you were lucky enough he’d ask for your number.

He reached behind him and presented you with another sample cup. “One more for the road? Please?”

You stamped down your disappointment that he didn’t ask for your number, which was more than okay. “How can I say no to that?” You popped the berries into your mouth without hesitation. They tasted ever sweeter than the first sample you had and you watched his eyes go to your neck as you swallowed. “Thanks. You really do have a gift,” you added to distract you from his heated gaze.

He looked humbled by the compliment. “I really do appreciate that,” he said, glancing over your shoulder to nod at someone. “Steve! You mind watching the stand until I get back? I’m gonna help her carry these to her car.”

You turned just in time to see a gorgeous blonde just as large as Bucky jog over from the stand across the way. “That’s nice of you, jerk. Real gentlemanly,” he smiled, giving you a small nod. “Ma’am.”

“Punk,” Bucky mumbled, but the affection was evident.

Another giggle worked its way out. Where did these men suddenly come from? Was there something in the water you didn’t know about? “You don’t need to call me ma’am, but thank you. And you’re right.” Your eyes went back to Bucky. “He is a gentleman.”

“And this is my cue to get you away from my friend before he says otherwise,” Bucky teased, steering you away with one hand while he balanced your fruit in the other.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him here either.”

“That was one of the friends I was talking about earlier. Has a farm, too, but his real passion is art,” he explained, his arm brushing against yours as he walked close. “He actually helped make my sign since I’m hopeless with that stuff.”

“That’s really nice,” you said, falling into a comfortable silence with him as you both maneuvered your way through the crowd. Once you got to the parking area, you pointed out your vehicle. “I’m just over there.”

Bucky’s gaze flickered over to you as you got your keys out. “I’m really glad you stopped at my stand today.”

Your heart fluttered when you caught the sun shining along his hair. “I’m glad I did, too,” you said softly, unlocking the car so he could set everything inside. Thank God it was clean. That would’ve been embarrassing. “But I should let you get back to work.”

He shifted on his feet, like he wasn’t quite ready to go. “Yeah, I should go.” He stepped forward and took a breath. “But I don’t think I can go back before I ask you to go on a date with me.”

You blinked. This wasn’t a drill. Bucky was asking you out. His tone was so gentle, his gaze so compelling. He was mesmerizing. He could’ve asked you to do anything and you likely would’ve done so without question.

“You want to take me out on a date?” You questioned, your mind screaming that your response was the wrong answer. This wasn’t a fantasy. It was really happening.

With an unsure chuckle, Bucky brushed a hand through his hair. “Too forward?” He smiled a little. “I’m sorry. I just thought that we…”

Your heart reacted to his uncertainty. It took a lot for anyone to put themselves out there and you wanted him to know it was worth the risk. “Not too forward at all, Bucky,” you smiled and placed your hand on his left arm, happy when he smiled back. “I'd love to go out with you.”

He took your hand in his when you went to pull your hand back. “I’m really glad you said yes,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” you sighed at his warm touch. It was the beginning of something special. You could tell. “So, when would you like to go on that date?”

And that is our intro! Now here is where it gets interesting: This story will go down two paths, one light and one dark. Be on the lookout for the continuation and choose your path (or choose both 😏). Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[eraenaa]

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Inspired by the song "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Summary: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

Warnings: Substance Use, Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Mention of Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Choking, Boobjob, Filmed Sexual Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 2,372

A/N: Sorry for being MIA finals week was rough and I was kinda burnout hence the almost month long hiatus but Taylor's new album revived me, so maybe expect more works inspired by TTPD songs!

You sat quietly as Rafe rested his warm hand on your thigh. You waited for him to finish his drink as he laughed around with his boys at the bar. Their voice echoed through the establishment, garnering curious glances from the other patrons present. You feel him squeeze your thigh tighter, his little signal that he wanted some affection, maybe a kiss or a touch from you. He turned to you, pupils enlarged from the little pill he took, “Are you bored?” He asked, and you quickly shook your head, placing your hand on the back of his head, and ran your nails gently against his skull. “No, baby,” You murmured and moved to kiss his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue. Rafe parted from your kiss, looking intently into your eyes to see off you lied; he seemed satisfied enough and returned to his conversations with his friends. 

You hear the offensive joke that Rafe said a bit too loudly and held your breath. Placing your hand on his shoulder, hoping it would snap some sense into him, it usually did. You feel pitying and feared glances pointed towards you. The bartender to your left shook their head and muttered, “God help her,” when they realized you were with Rafe. A man who was notorious for his rage and ill temper. He was often perceived as rash and maybe even psychotic. Perhaps their judgment of him was true… but that is what attracted you to him anyway. You could not help but be intrigued by him and his imposing and reckless demeanor. You were certain you could tame him. You said to yourself, “I can fix him; no, really, I can.” 

He drove the both of you home. A bit of a misjudgment on your part, seeing how intoxicated he was, but there was something thrilling about him taking the reigns while still addled with dopamine and alcohol. There was something seductive in the way his hand would trail upward and upward on your thigh as he raced down the streets of the Outer Banks. But there was something different this night. There was tension in him that did not come from the lust you and him were succumbing to. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking hold of his arm, caressing it in a way that made gooseflesh rise on his flesh. You bit your lip as his hold on you was tighter; you were certain it would once again leave his mark. “Everyone in that bar was looking at you… they were looking at what’s mine.” He snarled and pressed flat on the gas, making you speed down the streets so carelessly, but you could not find care as that elicited a wave of want in you. “They were only looking…” You trailed, testing to see what reaction it would garner from Rafe. 

You watch him shake his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “They were looking at what’s mine. They were practically undressing you with their eyes— imagining stealing you from me,” He gritted as you were nearing home. You voiced your disagreement, but that only seemed to enrage him more. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, huh? You fucking enjoyed their attention.” Rafe accused, and your eyes darkened at his words. Just as the rage in him burned quickly, it died in a snap. You removed his hold on your thigh and stole away your touch on his arm. You did not wait for him to open the door of the passenger seat for you but instead got out of the confined space you were trapped in and left him. “Baby, wait, I—“ Rafe called, any irritation in his voice gone the moment he realized he had offended you. 

You were nearing your bedroom door, ready to lock him out for the night and repent for his offense, but he caged you in his arms, pulling you close to him. Burying his head at the side of your neck, he offered his apologies. “I’m sorry baby… I just don’t wanna lose you,” You hear his muffled boys. Smirking to yourself as you actually got an apology from him. From all the stories you heard of Rafe, ranging from his family to his friends and even his past flings, not one of them got an apology or anything that resembled half of it from him. But here he was, saying sorry over and over again, waiting for your reply. You kept silent for a while longer, and you felt him move over to the front of you, trying to kiss your lips, but you moved your head to the side. You bit your lip as you hear him puff, surprised by his following action. You watched Rafe sink down on his knees and hold you tightly against him, burying his face in your abdomen, his apologies spewing out from his mouth as if you were a god to whom he offered his prayers, pleading to be heard. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair, hearing him soothingly hum and burrow his head deeper into your abdomen.  

You were about to urge him to stand, but you were rendered frozen, and your breathing hitch when you feel his fingers take hold of your dress, hiking it higher. “Rafe,” you called as his lips trailed kisses on your exposed skin, his breath teasing your core that had already been aching for him. “I’m sorry,” He said once more, and you could only sigh as he placed a kiss between your thighs. You held tightly onto him as he lapped your folds, showing you just how sorry he was. “Rafe… Fuck, Rafe,” you called as he inserted a finger, but you were already on the verge of an orgasm by just the way his nose burrowed into your nubbin. “Do you forgive me, my baby?” Rafe asked, and you could only moan out your agreement and hear him hiss as you pulled on his hair and came down hard on his fingers and face. 

You hummed as you woke the next day with Rafe tracing hearts on your face; he had been watching you sleep. You gazed at him through the hazy sight of the fresh morning, “You look so pretty when you sleep,” Rafe said softly, and you smiled up at him. Gone in his system were the substances that were his ruin, but he could not deny. You quite liked him in this state, but you knew he would rather have his mood be altered by opioids and any other drugs that he believed would aid him. It won’t. And you just need to change that outlook of his or at least find another drug that would not be his ruin. 

“You’re mine,” Rafe gritted in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he realized every bastard at the party was staring at you. “I’m yours,” You repeated to calm the rage in him. He did not consume anything harsh or damnable per your request, but you were starting to rethink your decision because apparently Rafe, without his usual pick me up, was rather more paranoid and frantic. Every little interaction you have with the opposite sex pushes him closer over the edge. “Rafe,” you sighed as he stepped away, challenging a guy whose gaze had been flying to you the whole night. “The fuck you staring at, huh! Do you want a fucking fight, bro?! Stop staring at my gi—“ Rafe screamed, and you pulled at him with all of your might for him to face you and save the innocent man from being beaten up to a pulp. You turn to Rafe’s friends, urging them to help, them being the able-bodied ones to escort Rafe outside to calm down. 

You stood before him as he sat by the ledge of a planter box. His head was in his hands as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. You stood silently as he took out a box of cigarettes and hastily lit a stick. “Stop looking at me like that,” Rafe spat, and you furrowed your brows at his words. “Like what?” You asked, and Rafe shook his head and took a long drag of a cigarette. “Like you’re disappointed! I know that look all too well,” He scoffed, and you took in a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Squatting down to meet him at eye level, placing a kiss on his cheek, and your hand found home at the back of his head again, running your fingers through his hair, noting how he would lean into your touch. “I’m not disappointed,” you say in earnest, but Rafe scoffs at your words. “You are. Don’t lie to me.” He gritted and threw the bud of his cigaret onto the ground, the glowing embers slowly dying down like the rage in him. 

“I never lie to you,” You say softly, placing your hold on the side of his face. “I’m yours, Rafe,” you say softly. “You’re mine.” He answered back. “Exactly. Then why are you trying to fight those others who are completely insignificant to us?” You ask softly, brushing your thumb across his brow, watching as his eyes fluttered close and a sigh left his lips. “Because I know what they want. I know they want what’s mine.” He gritted, tensing in anger once more, his fists clenching and warning danger. “But they won’t get to have it, won’t they?” You asked and stared deeply into his ocean eyes as they opened once more. “No. Never.” He swore, and you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. 

Kissing you was the greatest high Rafe felt. The high he now realized was the only one he’d want to chase. Nothing chemically and artificially induced could compare to your lips. “Let’s go back inside,” Rafe said after your kiss had sedated his rage. “On one condition,” You said and stood your ground as he tried to pull you back into the direction of the party. You pulled him to you, flushing your bodies, and returned your hand to caress his troubled head. “No more invoking fights? Stop glaring at those guys?” You asked and watched as he frowned at your words. “I… I can probably do no more fighting— but baby, come on, they keep staring at you and—“ You shook your head and interrupted him. 

“Be a good boy tonight, and later… I’ll do what you’ve been asking me to do since last month,” You hindered your grin as you watched Rafe’s jaw turn slack, his eyes now intoxicated and dilated with the thought of you. “What do you say?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, trailing your fingers against his forearm, your eyes already catching a glance of the dent in his trousers. “I’ll be a fucking angel if you want.” He almost growled. And you let him usher you back to a party with a smile beaming on your face. 

Rafe kept true to his word. There was practically a halo around his head for the rest of the night. Foregoing his pilled and powdered remedies, even tossed out the intoxicating liquid in his glass. You thought miracles never happened, but Rafe even let you join your friends on the dance floor without him. You saw as he reigned in the hellish thoughts in him as men around danced by your side. Instead, he stood still in his spot, his mind on the thought of heaven you’ll present him if he played nice. 

You, too, kept true to your words. You were on your knees, your hands pushing your tits together, and in between them was Rafe’s cock. A video camera by your side as Rafe had been begging you almost everyday for a home video together. Reasoning that ‘it would be a reminder of you when you are away.’ And the thought of you is the only thing that gets him on. “Fuck, baby— god, you’re so good. How are you this good?” Rafe groaned as you fucked him with your tits. It was the best reward for him, you rarely gave him head, and this was the first time you ever fucked anyone this way. Rafe fisted the sheets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock again. He moaned out your name as you took him deeper into your mouth, the sound of you gagging on his cock spurring him on. But before he could come, before he could reach a different and higher level of high he always sought, you pulled away. 

“Baby… oh, baby, please, you can’t do this to me,” he almost begged, his eyes in a daze at the sight of you messy from sucking his cock. You crawled upwards and hung from his lips, him already expecting a kiss. “Fuck me in the shower,” Was all you said before you hastily dispread to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. It took a few moments for Rafe to process your words, but once he did. He quickly stood, took the camera, and positioned it to point toward you, who was already soaking wet. 

Rafe was quick to push you against the glass shower door, already excited to watch the video of you and your tits against the glass. “Yes… oh, god, like that,” You cried as Rafe mercilessly pounded behind you. He gathered your hair and gripped it back, eliciting a burning yet pleasurable sensation. “You’re always so prim and proper… but looked at you, you fuck like a whore,” Rafe gritted, and your eyes rolled back as he positioned his thrust to hit the spot that made your words incoherent. “You like that, huh, baby? You like it when I fuck you, dumb?” He asked, not expecting a reply but rather your moans. Rafe relinquished his hold on your hair and instead gripped your throat. Pounding harder into you as he felt you clench tighter around him, your body shaking and on the precipice of orgasm. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Rafe gritted out as he, too, was close. “Yours. All yours, Rafe.” You cried as you came around him. Panting his name as he clung in the high that was you. 

I screamed when I first listened to the song that inspired this fic, bc Rafe was the most prominent thing that it conjured in my mind.

[ellecdc]

saw the blurbs rq post and immediately need

“i never knew i could feel this loved.”

w barty 🙏🙏🙏🙏

ugh friggen barty - I’ve missed him! Also sorry if it’s not too good, I wrote it on my phone. That means I also have no idea how long it is!! Thanks for the prompt 🫶

Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!reader who are at the manor over the school break

CW: touch starved barty (don’t worry, he gets touched), talking about grounding exercises, fluff

The school matron always told Barty to recite the “grounding lists” to help when things got to be too much.

What a load of rubbish. Who in the hells can recite 5 things they can see, 4 things they can hear, 3 things they can feel, 2 things they can smell, and 1 thing they can taste when they’re having a bloody fucking meltdown?

Not him, that’s for damn sure.

The only time Barty could imagine being able to do that was when he was already grounded.

Like now.

From his position on the sofa, laying on his stomach and situated between your legs with his face on your stomach, he could:

See

The plush, red velvet loveseat of the living room in your family home

The great expanse of pictures that hung along the walls of your living room

The half empty bowl of crisps the two of you had been sharing as you watched a movie

The throw blanket in a heap on the floor that the two of you kicked off of your intertwined forms

And the muggle tell-a-vision that was stuck on some fuzzy popcorn type screen because the two of you were too lazy to turn it off now that the movie was over

Hear

The low, staticky popcorn sound that the telly was making

The sound of your heart beat; so full of love that Barty swore it beat louder than anyone else’s

The distant sound of your parents laughing and conversing somewhere else in the manor

The sound of his thumb brushing over the space where the sleeve of your jumper gave way to the skin of your wrist

Feel

The rise and fall of your chest with every breath that you took

The fabric of the cashmere jumper he bought for you under his cheek

The warmth of your hand where it rested in his hair

Smell

The cinnamon and nutmeg candle you lit before the movie

The unmistakeable smell of you that Barty could never get enough of

And as he ran his tongue over his lips, he could still taste you from when you’d pressed a kiss to his lips before getting comfortable.

“Barty?” You whispered as though you weren’t sure he was still awake.

“Yes, my beautiful darling angel?”

You were quiet for a moment, and Barty could tell you were smiling to yourself.

“What are you thinking about?”

He lifted his head to rest his chin on your stomach so he could look at you; your hair was rather rumpled from the throw pillows, your eyes were clearly more than a little heavy, and Barty was sure that if you were alone, you’d probably be asleep by now. But you seemed to be putting 100% of your energy and effort into the loving gaze you were shooting at him, and Barty wondered - not for the first time - what in the hells he ever did to deserve you.

“I never knew I could feel this loved.” He admitted.

You froze for a moment; the breath you were in the middle of taking paused on its way out as your brows furrowed minutely before you expertly schooled your expression.

“Yeah?”

Barty hummed in agreement and pressed a kiss to your sternum.

“That’s funny,” you said as he lowered his cheek back onto your stomach, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

[dramaticals]

a favour

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you want to get your mind off of your break-up and theodore knows just what to do. literally just smut. characters are assumed to be 19+. mdni.

author's note: based on a thread i wrote in the rpc, but i excluded any wordings from my writing partner for obvious reasons

You didn't know who else to ask.

You've tried just about every heartbreak remedy out there—guzzling glasses of alcohol being the most recent and detrimental. The only remedy you hadn't tried required another person, and asking for it seemed to be much harder and more embarrassing than you thought.

In theory, you should be doing what any normal person would do when they want to get over an ex: find some stranger at a bar and have at it. But you're convinced the looming grey cloud that seemed to follow you around was enough to deter any stranger, regardless of whether sex was involved.

Which is why you were standing in front of Theodore Nott's place with a ridiculous and crude request on the tip of your tongue.

You and Theodore Nott weren't exactly friends. Friends of friends, more like. You two ran in the same circles, but there had never really been an opportunity or a reason to hang out one-on-one.

Even so, you knew the type of guy he was. Theo was as charming as he was alluring. He had that aura around him that just screamed lothario. And he was—at least, that's what you heard. Your mutual friends often teased him about his latest conquests, to which he'd respond with a smirk and a dismissive, "If you want me to fuck you next, all you have to do is ask."

"Y/N," Theo says. He leans against the doorframe of his apartment coolly, brows raising in question at your visit and curious eyes giving you a once-over. The way his arctic green eyes lingered on your body made you flush.

"Hey," You say breathlessly, fingernails digging into the palm of your hand out of pure nervousness. You didn't think it would be so hard to come out and just say it. "Can I ask you for a favour?"

"A favour," Theo repeats, his lips twitching into his signature smirk. By the way he was looking at you, you swear he knows what you want from him. "Depends. What do you need?"

"Could you help me get over my ex?"

Theodore's brows raise, his eyes flashing in smug amusement. He definitely knew why you were here.

"I can think of a few ways to distract you." He says slowly, eyes trained on yours. There's a teasing tone in his next words as he lists, "Movies, puzzles, bourbon..."

"Actually," you interrupt, your gaze flickering anywhere but his eyes. Your heart's practically beating out of your chest now. His intense gaze was doing a number on you, and you suddenly understood every woman he'd ever slept with. Theo knew exactly how to work a woman in the simplest way possible. "I was thinking of something more effective than that."

"Oh? And what may that be?" Theo asks as if he already didn't know. He just wanted you to say it.

You inhale sharply, your eyes meeting his again. "I want you to fuck me."

Theo lets out a breath, his lips twisting into a mischievous grin. "Gladly."

Theo beckons you inside before shutting the door and turning the lock. He wastes no time closing in the space between you two. Strong hands pull you close as his lips ghost over yours teasingly. You can practically feel his smirk on your lips, and it makes you shiver.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." Theo says huskily against your lips.

There's no time to process his words before his lips are on yours. You gasp against his mouth, allowing him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. He steps forward, guiding you backwards until you're pinned against the door. Your hands reach to cup his jawline, kissing Theo back with as much passion as he was giving you.

He lets out a groan against you, and it strikes a fire within you and to your core. God, you needed to hear more of that.

Feverish kisses turn into teasing, nipping kisses down your neck. His rough hands slide down your frame, his leg expertly maneuvering between yours and pinning you in place. You whine at the pressure, throwing your head back in response.

"Fuck, Theo," you breathe, your fingers running through his brown curls.

He lets out a low chuckle against your collarbone, clearly eating up every second of this favour. You were so receptive to his actions that a part of him wanted to drag this whole ordeal out.

His hands tug at your sweatshirt, expertly removing the garment. He hisses when he realizes that was the only barrier he had to deal with. The cool air of his apartment, along with his lips on your chest, made your nipples perk. Your back arches into his mouth.

Theo flicks his tongue against your breast, teeth grazing lightly as he pulls away to say, "So fucking beautiful."

You could just melt into him. The way he was working you was unlike anyone you've ever experienced before. And the way his hands hooked onto the hem of your skirt and knickers, pulling them down swiftly—fuck.

One hand moves to capture both your wrists, lifting them both up and holding them above you firmly. His other hand finds its way to your core, toying with your slick folds before inserting a digit.

You let out a desperate whimper. You want to grip onto something, but his hold on your wrists is solid, and it only makes your hips buck into him.

"Eager, are we?" Theo muses, his lips planting a sweet kiss on yours. He watches you attentively as he slowly inserts another digit. Slow enough to really take notice of your wetness on his fingers. Theo smirks when your breath hitches.

"Theo," you gasp. "Please."

Theo kindly obliges, curling his fingers inside you and flicking repeatedly against the spot that made your knees buckle and your heart soar. His grip on your wrists tightened in part that you could no longer keep yourself standing.

"Oh my god. I need—" you moan, your eyes shutting in pleasure.

"What do you need, darling?" Theo asks smoothly, his fingers continuing their motions inside you. His eyes are dark with lust. He plants a kiss on your jaw.

"You." You manage to get out, squirming against his fingers. You're so close.

Theo was feeling too fucking smug seeing you unravel like this, and so it's another second before he's sliding his fingers out of you and letting go of your wrists. You whine at the loss of contact, your eyes shooting open in confusion.

Theo's discarding his shirt, untying his sweatpants, and shoving off his boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of him. You didn't think he could be any more sexy.

"Like what you see?" Theo quips with a sly smile. His hands move to your hips and then to your thigh, guiding your leg up around him. He guides himself to brush against your core teasingly. You jerk at the contact.

"Theodore," you warn. You don't know how much more foreplay you can take.

With a pompous grin, Theo sinks into you roughly. He grunts in pleasure, reveling in the feeling of your dripping cunt around him.

"Fucking hell, Y/N," Theo groans, setting up a torturous rhythm of thrusts. You feel the pleasure bubbling in your core, your fingernails dragging across his bare back.

Theo buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving sweet kisses on your skin. The sensation of his soft, tender lips on your neck versus the primal thrusts into you made you want to scream.

Theo senses this, and he relentlessly continues his movements. He's quite close himself, his cock twitching in response to your body. But considering this was a favour to you, he holds himself back. You needed to come first.

And you do.

You release a panting whine just as the building pleasure finally washes over you. You grip onto the locks of his hair on the base of his neck for support, coming undone in his strong arms. Theo moans, feeling you clench around him, before allowing himself to come.

You slump forward into Theo, your forehead resting on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, now more than ever needing the support his strong frame provided.

"That'll definitely do," you say with a weak nod.

You can't see his face, but you can practically see the shit-eating grin on his lips.

[all4yoi]

was it just a game to you?

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ poor attempt on angst , lowercase intended , hand holding ( not w u! xd ) , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part two here !

catching them holding hands with another girl after they accepted your confession 

confessing to them was already on your monthly bucket list, but them accepting it and liking you back certainly wasn't. feeling ecstatic, you walk towards your university's glass doors only to find him holding hands with a female that certainly isn't you.

★ LEE HEESEUNG

eyes trained on their hands clutched tightly on to one another, you watch silently as the girl smiled up at him shyly, tucking a strand of her hair with her empty hand.

doubt began overtaking you. right, who would choose someone like you over someone like karina? she was everything you weren't. perfect face, perfect body, she's kind, and absolutely beautiful. if you were heeseung, you would choose her too.

you flinched as you made eye contact with the girl holding hands with someone who should be yours. she sent you a smile, a genuine one. not mocking, nor insulting. she didn't have any idea about the conversation last night you shared with the man she's holding hands with.

she didn't know about how he smiled at you brightly, didn't know about the hug you two shared, and absolutely didn't know about how he said he liked you too. so how could you hate and blame her?

before you could even send a smile back at her, heeseung turned around and instantly took his hand back when his gaze landed on your stiff body.

instead of making a scene, you showed them the best smile you could muster despite the quiver on your lips before quickly walking away towards your first class.

heeseung panicked, turning to karina.

"you're a great friend karina, but i don't feel the same. i'm sorry."

with that, he ran after you hoping you would hear him out and let him explain.

other members utc!

★ PARK JONGSEONG

you felt your mood instantly drop. yesterday he promised he would prove to you how much he liked you back too, now he's holding hands with a pretty girl.

your eyes quickly met his and the way he quickly took his hand back from the girl made you even more upset. you watched as the female said something incoherent to him before he approached you hastily.

he stood infront of you, worry written all over his face. your frowned deepened, betrayal making your chess heavy.

"it's not what it looked like, i promise." jay whispered that only you could hear. he didn't want you doubting his feelings for you, he was merely helping the girl up after he had bumped into her. she insisted on shaking his hand after telling him her name, it was such wrong timing that you saw.

he didn't mean to hurt you.

"it's okay. i'll see you later jay." was all you said before walking away with a small smile. he watched your figure become smaller and smaller until he lost your figure to the students crowding the halls.

despite the smile on your pretty face, jay knew he had hurt you badly and he intended on fixing that. for now, he'd give you space.

★  SIM JAEYUN

his hand was instantly removed from hers as soon as you saw it. you didn't know what to feel. were you supposed to be glad that he immediately let her go as soon as your eyes met his? still, you don't know for how long he has been holding her hand before you even saw.

but then again, you two weren't together. so who were you to be mad? he liked you back sure, but he wasn't your boyfriend. he could hold hands with anyone he'd like. but was it bad to hope that he'd only do those things with you?

you couldn't help the tears falling down your cheeks. immediately, you felt ashamed. ashamed for crying about something so stupid like this, so you did what everyone would've done.

you ran, ignoring his desperate calls for you. and even when he caught up with you and brought you to his chest, the tears didn't stop. you mentally cursed yourself for being so sensitive.

pushing yourself away from him, you wiped away the tears.

"i can explain, please."

"it's fine jake, really. i just wish you would've been more honest with me." lips wobbly as you attempted a small smile, jake's heart broke as he watched you walk away from him again.

★  PARK SUNGHOON

you didn't know what to do. there he was, holding hands with the prettiest girl in campus with other students fawning over them. exclaims on how good they looked together echoed through your ears.

maybe he only said he liked you back to make fun of your reaction with his friends. maybe it was a lousy bet between him and his friends to make you believe he actually liked you back.

"don't they look absolutely good together? seriously, sunghoon and wonyoung, literally everyone here expected them to get together at some point" a random student told you, her smile wide as she observed the two, who were still holding hands.

the way he stiffened and dropped her hand as soon as your eyes met his brought you back to reality. blending in with the crowd in the halls, you attempted to escape his line of sight, desperate to leave before the tears in your tear ducts escape.

you were forced to halt when you felt a strong grip on your forearm. sunghoon turned you around to face him, his brows furrowed whilst he bit his bottom

"y/n.." he gulped as he saw how your eyes got teary immediately. "i'm sorry, it's not like that at all."

"so why were you holding her hand? with the biggest smile on your face?" he kept his mouth shut, unable to form an answer. this only made you frustrated even more.

pulling your arm back, you cleared your throat and looked down on your shoe. "you could've turned me down instead of making me hope- nevermind.. see you around."

sunghoon watched you walk away from him helplessly, mentally beating himself up for not clearing things up.

[slasherstories123]

Hello!! Can I please get some period comfort fluff with Jason, Thomas, RZ micheal and Art (whoever else you'd like to add) thank you xoxo

Slashers helping their S/O on their period

Pairing: Jason Voorhees, RZ! Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, and Art the Clown x GN! Reader

Tags list: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby @callsignwidow @endomishy

Jason Voorhees

Jason will do anything you ask just to help out, he hates seeing you in pain. Especially from cramps and will grab the biggest pain killer bottle he can find just to give to you.

He doesn’t understand the concept so it’s best to sit him down and talk about it just before the time comes just so he could help out.

Sadly. He isn’t a walking heating pad, if he were to place his hand on your stomach to try and soothe your cramps you’ll feel a cold sensation, ice cold to be exact.

He’ll put you in you a warm bath if he sees that your cramps are getting worse

He’s trying his best just to make sure you’re okay and will give you space if you need it.

He’ll cuddle you as long as you want if you want to given his cold body, if you don’t mind it, he’s never letting you go unless you say so just to be there as company and support.

RZ!Michael Myers

Michael doesn’t know much about periods, but he did have an older sister, even then, that wasn’t enough for him, all he knew was that it was a monthly thing women go through.

He knew you were going through it when he saw you curled up in a ball in bed from the excruciating cramps, he doesn’t know what to do until you tell him want your needs were.

He’s trying…for you at least, the best he can do is provide you medicine. All the while staring at your pained figure. If you want him to stay he will.

Michaels hands are warm, he always have something in his hands and will squeeze relentlessly. He’ll even let you place his hand on your stomach as your own heating pad just to help you (after your slight begging of course).

He’ll steal candy from the critters houses to give to you too, you’ll sometimes find them by your night stand or right by your pillow whenever you wake up from a nap.

Thomas Hewitt

He gets help from Luda Mae mostly. He’s clueless and ran straight to her when he saw you curled up in bed.

She’ll tell him everything you might need just so he can be a better help for you.

Thomas will find a way to cool you down since being hot AND on your period isn’t a good mix. He’ll do the smallest things, even if it’s a massage he’ll do it.

Even if you protest he’ll make you rest and will do any small tasks that were assigned for you.

In the night he’ll meekness you to take medicine before bed just so you won’t be in pain throughout the nights

Thomas skin is hot from the Texas heat. His hand makes the perfect heating pad for you too. Whatever cuddling position you’re in his hand will be on your stomach through the night.

Art the Clown

Art is definitely trying his best, and since his actions are different, he’ll go through extreme measures just to get the products you need for your period.

He’ll still pull rather weird tricks just to get a laugh out of you or to distract you from the pain in your stomach.

Most tricks involve weird tactics or disturbing ones, which are in his nature that you’ve gotten used to and you yourself even got to laugh at a few of them

Art is an affectionate guy who will squeeze you tight while cuddling if you ask him to. If it’s a small hug he’ll take it to the next level just to squeeze you in his arms like a stress toy.

Art will also govern you small twinkles he stole or found just to give to you to cheer you up if you’re having your period mood swings. Sometimes he’ll play along if you’re upset and cross his arms with a fake angry expression just to try and mock you.

It’s all harmless in the end.

[miabebe]

The Intruder's Eye (CSC)

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't make one want to keep an eye at all times?

Pairing - Afab!reader x Choi Seungcheol

Word count - 6K (I failed the below 5k challenge T.T)

Genre - Oof buckle up my friends. This is a halloween special so I tried not hold back - its a psycho-thriller, there's smut and a whole lot of pyscho-ness whelp Warnings under the cut!

A/n - It's the week leading up to Halloween folks! Unfortunately I'm not the biggest fan of clowns and ghosts and vampires etc, but I do love me a good dose of psychos (who I think are scarier btw) so here you gooooo! I've already got a Jeonghan one out but personally I feel this is more deranged I'm sorry T.T I did try to tone it down a bit though! I have another one coming by the 31st so stay tuneddd

Again @tusswrites and @tomodachiii - what would I do without y'all 🫂 this piece is basically all you guys!

warnings - intruder in the house, mentions of stalking, medications, deranged characters, triggering descriptions of a home intrusion, smut, homemade porn (lol), bondage (mouth and hands), blowjobs, cum eating, riding, rough sex, mentions of toys and anal, manhandling, psycho behaviour, please forgive me I can only allow myself to be this unhinged during spooky season

It was the soft pitter patter of the rain against the car window that woke you up. 

Slowly fluttering your eyes open, you looked out down the dark, lonely road on the other side, at the street lights were still obscured by the downpour. It's not as torrential as it was when you stepped out of the grocery store a while ago. It was too heavy for you to even drive then so you settled in your car for a while, waiting for the rain to get less harsh. You didn't realise when you fell asleep. 

Looking at the 8pm flashing on your phone screen and the way darkness had engulfed everything around, a strange panic rose in you. You weren't really afraid of staying out too late but given the things that had been happening around you recently - you didn't want to take the risk. 

Turning on the engine and shifting the gears, you took a deep breath, and started driving  towards home. 

The street was empty for the most part - not many cars were on the road given the warnings for the incoming storm earlier that day. You didn't have a choice but to leave - you were suddenly running low on supplies, the shopping list in your hand was almost a page long. You glanced at the groceries at the backseat with a satisfied sigh - guess the newfound cardio routine was doing a good job in working up your appetite. 

As you neared your house, the streets became more illuminated, much to your relief. Unlike the rest of the town, your neighbourhood was a much safer space - there were streetlights, surveillance cameras and disguised cops always patrolling the area. Most people who resided here didn't know but many of the inhabitants of these row houses were in fact people placed on witness protection. You knew because you were one of them. 

One year ago, your testimony in a high profile case had led to some very bad people finding themselves behind bars. In exchange, you were promised protection, leading to your identity being morphed and your life being relocated to this locality. You were promised that nothing would happen to you here, that you would be very safe. You believed it then, but not so much now - not when you turned into your street and noticed the camera at the end of it was short circuited. Perhaps the storms over the last few days had a hand in it. 

You didn’t think much of it.

But maybe you should.

Because as you grabbed your groceries and ran to the door, fishing for your keys, you realised you didn't need them. The door was not locked. 

You racked your brains to remember if you had locked the door before you left or if you were in too much of a hurry to beat the incoming rain. Your memory is a little fuzzy, it has been like that for awhile, but you were too cold and aching to just get inside to give it any further thought.

 You must've forgotten to lock it - what other explanation could there possibly be? 

Balancing the bags in one hand, you slowly pushed the door open as you stepped in, flipping the switches with bated breath. 

Everything seemed fine, nothing felt out of place. Releasing a breath you tell yourself that everything is fine - you were clearly overthinking things. Paranoia had been a part of your life ever since the proceedings of that case - you were always wary, always suspicious, always scared. Though, you shouldn't be feeling that way anymore, you had taken your medication - you should be fine.

But how were you supposed to feel fine when every small thing made the hair on your skin stand. Like the curtains in the living room being open for example. You never kept the curtains open, especially not since your new neighbour moved in a few months ago. 

He called himself Choi Seungcheolwhen he knocked on the door to offer an introduction. You didn't know if that was his real name or the one the cops had given him as a part of the programme. Either way you didn't ask him lest he might ask you yours in return - you didn't need your identity compromised, not when the gang of those convicts was still actively looking for you. You had simply nodded and shut the door. 

Since then, you’ve always had the curtains closed. You had to, because somehow every time you looked out, Seungcheol was by his window, watching you. If you were being honest, Seungcheol was hot as fuck and a year ago, if a man like that was interested in you, you wouldn't have let him go. But things were different now - you couldn't trust anyone anymore.

Walking up to the window, you stumbled over the dumbbell in the way as you glanced at the neighbouring house. The two of your houses were the only ones on the street that weren't covered in Halloween decorations. It made sense - you were both single and did not have to deal with whining, crying, demanding children so there was no need for this facade. 

But you weren’t that lackluster, you did buy and keep some candy for the trick or treaters though you wouldn’t know if Seungcheol had done the same - he didn't seem too particularly fond of children. He never let them near the house. In fact he never let anyone into his house. You had never seen a woman or a friendly face from town or even a family member step into his place - he pretty much always kept to himself. It’s not like anyone else in this neighborhood had the luxury for such anyway.

At present, there was no sight of him or even his silhouette, with how the curtains of his house were drawn but all the lights were still on. Sighing a little in relief, you do the same, shutting the blinds. Still feeling the weight of the dumbbell against your foot, you pushed it out of the way, wondering how it had displaced itself from the rest of the workout equipment in the first place. You hadn’t even used those in a while now. 

Still lost in thought, you walked into the kitchen and as you turned the lights on, a shiver ran down your spine. 

Something was off, something did not seem right. 

At first glance everything seemed fine, but looking again carefully–nothing seemed right. The apron wasn't in its usual place by the spice rack, you don’t recall leaving out a glass of water on the counter, or leaving a packet of corn chips open. You never leave things out when you leave, you always put them away.

But things like this had been happening ever since you started your medication. You were more forgetful, and that was inconvenient but without your daily dosage it was like a fight between your nerves and caution - anything that moved invoked fear in you, every small sound made you shiver. There was no choice but to take those pills everyday. It was the only think keeping you sane. 

Shaking your head, you organized everything back in place again. Everything was fine. You had taken an extra dosage right before you left the house, you were just a little fazed from all the chemicals. Surely it was just your imagination, it wasn't like anyone could have entered the house in your absence….right? 

But there was a half eaten bowl of cereal in the sink and you… you were lactose intolerant, you didn't drink milk - that couldn't be yours. Hands shaking, you took a step back. 

Someone was in this house. 

Quickly opening the drawer, you grabbed a knife, gripping the handle hard and tight. The only question was, were they still in the house? 

Wiping the sweat off your face, you took a small careful step out of the kitchen. 

It was quiet, deadly quiet, there was not a sound to be heard, but the hum of the electrical appliances and the soft patter of the rain outside. Then you heard it, ears sharp and sensitive to the sound of water dripping. Slowly you moved towards the washroom, holding your weapon out, breath shaking. 

When you cautiously pushed the door open you noticed the floor was wet, water leaking from the shower head, drop after drop. You've never had this problem before, did you have a plumbing issue?

Stepping in, you tried to fix the faucet with your free hand. But no matter how many times you adjusted the hardware, water continued to drip, rendering you unsuccessful in your attempts. It felt like a really strong hand had broken the tap which was silly because you were definitely careful with how you handled your things? Neither could have broken this nor clearly, could you fix it. Annoyed by your failure and the thought of calling maintenance, you stepped out of the shower, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. 

There was a strange tiredness etched all over your features, hiding a stranger something behind it. Your eyes had sunken further into their sockets, thin wisps of hair framing your face - You’ve definitely had better days and was… was that a knife in your hand? 

You glanced at it quizzically. Why did you step into the shower with a knife? 

Softly smacking your head at your silliness, you walked back into the living room, leaving the tap for another day. Half yawning with tiredness were ready to retire for the night when your eyes fell on the grocery bags still waiting for you on the table - you had forgotten about it. Groaning at the thought of having to put everything away, you set the knife on the dining table and grabbed your purchases instead, taking them into the pantry. Perhaps it was because you were too deeply immersed in your organisation, but your otherwise sharp ears missed the rustling of the leaves outside, crunching under someone’s footsteps.

Going through the grocery checklist scribbled in horrible handwriting to make sure you had gotten everything, you swiftly began putting them all in their place. The pastas in the jars, the fruits in the baskets, the sauces in the tray. The heaviest thing you bought was perhaps those huge jars of protein powder. You weren't really sure why you decided to buy it - sure your doctor said you were too weak and needed to exercise to build strength but you didn't need to buy all of the products the Internet recommended to you. 

Telling yourself you'll find use for it later, you pushed them onto the shelves and turned to the meat instead, throwing them into the fridge. You didn't really know how to cook meat too well but you wanted to try. Seungcheol had once grilled some meat in his backyard and came over to offer you a few bites. When you tried to take it from him at the door, he pulled his hand back and cocked his head. 

“Are you not going to invite me inside?” 

He was always trying to make a move on you like that. You knew what he wanted, you knew what he had his eyes on but the answer was, no. You could take the deliciously cooked meat from him but couldn't let him into the house. It was too soon to trust him. 

But Seungcheol was relentless. 

It was evident with how he was the only one in town who turned up at the video store where you worked. And he came everyday. Normal people didn't borrow a new movie everyday, right? Clearly he was flirting with you. Or at least he was trying to. You only ever behaved professionally with him . Except sometimes, when he asked for movie recommendations of a very specific genre. You didn't really know many serial killer documentaries or crime podcasts to suggest, so you would simply ask a colleague to take over. Over the days, you watched him consume every last bit of thrillers available in the store and distantly wondered if he had a life outside of this consumption. 

Perhaps not. Seungcheol seemed a bit odd like that. 

He talked to everyone in town but didn't really seem to have any friends. He wasn't home for days together sometimes - you didn't really know the nature of his job so you couldn't tell why his absence was so frequent. He always drove that tiny pickup truck of his with some weird boxes and bags hidden under big blue plastic sheets in the trunk. . 

The whole deal about him was just not right. You knew something about him was not right. Even though he was incredibly pleasant on the eye, you had to be wary of him. 

You had to be wary of everything. . 

But maybe you weren't always as alert as you should be. Because it  was only as you were putting away the last of the snacks that you heard that sound - the thumping. 

It seemed like it was coming from outside…. Or was it upstairs? It felt like it was coming from right above, like the sound of someone's feet. 

And just like that,, you remembered the intruder again - the one who might still be in your home. 

Quickly you rushed to grab the knife from the table once more and held it out in defense. Whoever came to the house was most definitely still here, you could feel it in your bones. 

As you slowly made your way towards the stairs, trying to maintain a soft footfall to avoid the creaking of the stairs, another sound took you aback. 

No, not your racing heart - The doorbell. 

Turning sharply, you glanced at the door with wide eyes. Who could it possibly be?  At this late hour?

The ringing only became more persistent, morphing into knocks while you inched towards the door, grip on the knife tightening. 

As you slowly pressed down the handle and slightly opened the door, you were met with cheerful voices, much to your relief. 

“Happy Halloween!” 

Before you was a tiny ghost, a pirate, a couple of princesses and a buzz lightyear, all half your height, looking at you surprised. 

“Ms. L/n!” 

“Hey kiddos.” 

“Where's Mr. Choi?” The pirate pouted. “We thought we could finally get him to be nice to us, hand us some treats.” 

“Aw.” You pinched his cheek with your free hand. The one that was not hiding the knife behind the door. “Mr. Choi isn't in town sadly.” 

The little kid looked at you quizzically. “Then what are you doing in his house?” 

.

.

.

Oh. 

You blinked at him while he looked up at you expectantly. 

Then your lips split into a sweet, saccharine smile. 

“He asked me to look after it while he was gone.”

“When will Mr. Choi be back?” 

You glanced at the inquisitive little ghost, fiddling with the knife in your hand. 

Please, please don't make me use this. 

“Do you want an answer or candy?” You cocked your head cheekily. “I'm only giving out one.” 

“Candy!” They screamed as you laughed and reached for the packet you had just bought, ripping it open with the knife.

They watched excitedly as you dropped handfuls of chocolate into their little baskets and plastic pumpkins. With a scream of “Ms. L/N is the best!” they scurried away to their next target of the night. And so did you, tossing the knife onto the table once again.

You clutched your head and released a low hiss of irritation at the dull throb.Those stupid medicines were really getting to your head now, you were forgetting too many important things. Thank fuck for the children, otherwise you would have never remembered what really had to be done. 

Locking the door behind you, you quickly made your way up the stairs. There was no need to head softly - the stairs had a tendency to creak in your house, not in Seungcheol’s. 

The thumping from earlier was more pronounced now as your senses slowly cleared up, much like how the light flooded from underneath the bedroom door. The soft thumps are getting louder and louder as you neared it. With a twist of the knob and swing of the door, you tilt  your head with a smile. 

Light flooded from underneath the bedroom door, the soft thumping sound getting louder and louder as you neared it. Opening it wide, you cocked your head with a smile. 

There he was. 

Sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, Seungcheol was looking gorgeous as ever. He was dressed in just his grey sweatpants, the thick muscles of his shoulders and pecs bared before you. His biceps too were popping on either side thanks to the fact that his hands were tied at the back of the chair. Oh and his mouth was gagged shut, his words turning into muffled whimpers as he looked at you wide eyed, halting the stomping of his feet.

“I know, I know, I'm sorry.” You raised your hands apologetically. “I meant to be back soon but you know how I am, forgetful little me. I'm sorry baby.” You neared him, walking around his chair, bending to whisper in his ear. “But I see you're having your fun.” 

Your eyes flickered from the tent in his pants to the laptop you left on for his entertainment, right in the line of his vision. You see yourself on the screen, dressed in the hottest lingerie you owned, looking right in the camera with the vibrator held just where you needed him and only one name spilling from your mouth - Seungcheol. 

This wasn't the video you played from him before you left for the grocery store - perhaps they were auto playing, lucky him. You had hours of such footage of yourself - in all kinds of positions, with every possible toy, in role play costumes, in every possible color of lingerie, you had an unmatchable variety. The only thing common among all of them was his name. Choi Seungcheol. 

Could you be blamed? The man was unbelievably attractive. It wasn't like you didn't try to avoid him, to repel all that magnetism. You were well aware of your nature - it hadn't been long since you had gotten a chance to start afresh and you didn't want to spiral again. You really really didn't. 

But Seungcheol was persistent. He wouldn't stop flirting with you at any given chance, he kept trying to invite himself home, he was consistently intrusive. You kept him at bay for the longest time, at least until the day you had to return the box he had left with you, the one in which he gave you the grilled meat. 

You didn't expect him to open the door with his shirt off, slick with sweat, flushed and half panting. When you caught sight of the dumbbells behind him,  could tell he was working out but somehow you couldn't help but think this was probably how he looked when he fucked and god did that make your mouth water. 

That day he shouldn't have invited you in. Then you wouldn't have found your resolve crumbling so weakly. You wouldn't have found yourself under him being pounded like there was no tomorrow. You wouldn't have crossed the line like this. 

What started that day set off a cascade of events. Sleeping with Seungcheol became quite a regular act - there was no part of you that he had left unexplored, untouched. He was in every crevice, every cell, you were entirely consumed by him. When you were at work, all you could think about was how well he fucked you the day before. When you were on the way home, all you could think about was how well he was going fuck you today. Even after you reached, you always made it a point to immediately wash up, wear your nicest underwear and knock on his door. You always did it at his house. 

He did try to come to your place a couple of times but you consistently steered the two of you back to his house somehow. It was one thing to let him cum in you but to come into your house? You couldn’t have that happening, he’d ask too many questions - why do you never use the garage Y/n? Why was it always locked Y/n? Why did you have a ridiculous number of gardening tools in your house when you don’t even grow any plants Y/n? You knew the questions wouldn't seize and the answers weren’t good for him. They weren't good for anyone who's heard them all these years. 

Another reason you didn't want him home was because you didn't want to ruin the surprise. 

Now, Seungcheol was a self-sufficient man. He was happy with himself, his life, his home, his solitude. It was evident all he was looking for in you was a good fuck - afterall, he would never ask you to stay the night or to be his girlfriend even though you'd been seeing each other for months. You were okay with that….. for now. The two of you were still exploring, still understanding each other's bodies and limits. You didn't mind him taking his time, you needed your time as well. 

You see, Seungcheol loved his home. He loved every piece of furniture, every bowl, every mat - he was incredibly fond of his space, taking all the time and effort in the world to curate it. You, on the other hand, didn't really care much for your house. As long as it could fulfill basic needs and keep you safe, you were good - it wasn't like you stayed for long in one place anyways. But your heart knew that you wanted to stay with Seungcheol for the rest of your life. There was something dark about him too that told you he belonged with you the way you belonged to him. You wanted him to feel like he belonged to you too, you wanted him to feel at home with you. You wanted to be his home. 

That's why you took months together to design and turn your house into an identical replica of Seungcheol’s. 

And when you say replica you mean down to the T. Everything was the same. You made sure it was the same. All those times he was away for days together thanks to his job, you found yourself slipping into his house taking detailed notes of every object, every piece. You would only see, not touch or take anything away. Come on, you were no thief, thieves are bad people.. 

After that you had spent all your time online or going from store to store, finding originals and duplicates of his belongings. Given that he loved to have really exclusive pieces in his house they were not easy to procure but with a little sweet talk, a little threatening and a little unspeakable things, you had somehow managed to bring them all home. To the home you were making for him. 

Earlier this week, you had gotten hold of the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle - a childhood photo of Seungcheol's family, framed and hung on the wall. It was the hardest thing to get your hands on. His estranged sister would not leave her house for long enough - it took a major occupational accident at her husband's construction site to finally get her moving. 

With everything finally in place today, just as the sun began to set, you went over to Seungcheol's house to bring him over at last, to show him what you had done for him. Seeing how his front door was unlocked you stepped in, curiously looking around for him. But that feeling evaporated the moment you heard that sound - the sound of a woman moaning. 

It felt like the ground under your feet had slipped. Perhaps that was why you grabbed the baseball bat leaning against the wall, to give your shaking hands something to hold on to as you made your way to his bedroom…. He didn't even bother to shut the door. 

There he was, sitting on the bed with his laptop open before him, frantically getting himself off to the video of some pizza delivery girl getting her “payment”. 

Porn. He was watching porn. 

The moment his eyes fell on you by the door, he quickly tucked his length into his sweats and jumped off the bed, looking at you like you were crazy. Oh no Choi Seungcheol. He didn't just do that. He shouldn't have. Maybe then you wouldn't have swung the bat and knocked him out cold. Maybe he wouldn't have found himself in the middle of the room all tied up when he came around. 

You just couldn't understand him. What was the need for him to look at other women or even think of one when you were right there? Was he bored of you? Were you not enough? You did everything you could to keep him - every depraved fantasy, every humiliating act, every time he was rough to bruise you for days together, you took it all, you begged for more. Then why was he doing this? 

When he finally opened his eyes, he didn't answer your questions, he was simply screaming to set free. Well of course the only thing you could do was to shut his mouth in some way and with him unable to speak, you had to find other ways to get answers. You needed to find out if Seungcheol was just not attracted to you anymore. 

That's why you brought out your video collection, little films you had taken of yourself back when you were still pushing him away, all while wondering what it was like to get fucked by him. His mouth may say whatever but anatomy couldn't lie right? There was something else that could stand up and answer you. 

You had meant to stay and watch, afterall, you were proud of the quality of your content but the flashes of thunder outside told you that perhaps it was wiser for you to go to the store first. You knew whatever was going to transpire wouldn't be over any time soon, you had to stock up before the storm locked you in. Besides, it was Halloween night, all the cute little kids would be coming around for candy, you didn't want to miss out on that. 

You didn't and thanks to them, you didn't succumb to your forgetfulness and miss out on this either. 

“There there.” You cooed, removing his gag and he coughed, unable to regain his ability to speak just yet. You waited for him to come around, walking back to sit on the edge of the bed as he looked at you meekly. 

“Water.” He whispered, voice just a little horse. 

You raised your eyebrow. How did he manage to sound so sexy all the time? 

“Thirsty are we?” You smiled. “I thought my gift might have helped.”

“Y/n please.” He groaned. “What kind of sick joke is this?” 

Oh. He thinks it's a joke. A little Halloween scare perhaps. A prank gone overboard. Oh he has no idea.

“I think it's me who you take for a joke.” You glanced down at his raging boner. “Or not, considering how excited you are.”

You got up, leaning over him, hand gripping the back of his chair. 

“I'll help you.” You licked your lips. “Either I'll untie you, take my little collection and get out of here. Or I'll help with your not so little predicament with any and every hole I have…. Pick your poison.” 

Seungcheol looked at you wide eyed. His breath was shaking, lips were quivering and a hundred and one things seemed to be running behind those pretty eyes. 

Slowly gulping, his Adams apple moving with a bob, he shut his eyes. 

“It's unbearable.” He mumbled. “It's just…. Please help me.” 

And you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.

Sliding off the bed, you got on your knees, crawling up to him, slotting yourself between his legs. Seungcheol’s eyes flew open when your hands found his thigh, a soft sigh tumbling out of his mouth. He loved to fuck your mouth. He loved how eager to please you always were, always trying to take in more of him, always trying to do better. God he loved it.

He watched as you pulled his sweats down the best you could and wrapped your tiny hand around his dick. He was raging hard, the tip flushed in an angry red, precum smeared all over. You were lucky he was in your control now. If he were allowed to have his way, he might just break you. 

Stroking him agonisingly slowly, you inched closer to place a small kiss on his tip, the softest interaction that had ever happened between the two of you. Before Seungcheol could even relish that moment you wrapped your lips around his length and took him all the way in. Fucking hell. Seungcheol thought he was going to pass out with how intensely you were blowing him. He wished you'd untie his hands. He'd go anything to just push your head down his dick and feel himself in your throat. That was a sureshot at making him come, these shallow and fast bobs of your head were only aggravating him. 

Maybe that's what you wanted. Because the moment he let out his tell tale groan, letting you know he was close, you pulled away with a pop and wrapped your hand around his cock instead. Before he could complain about losing the warmth of your mouth you began stroking him fast thanks to the wetness of your spit and before you knew it, he felt himself reaching that high, meaningless words leaving his mouth. With a few more jerks, he came all over himself in spurts, ropes of white coating his abdomen. 

As he tried to battle his feelings of relief after finding a much needed release, disappointment for not coming in your mouth, and slight fear, not understanding what the hell was going on, you slowly let him go, wiping your hand on his sweats. Looking straight into his eyes, you leaned forward, gathering the cum all over his skin with your tongue and showing it to him before you swallowed it. Fuck, Seungcheol felt the blood rushing down there again. He was far from done tonight. 

Getting up you looked at him questioningly though you were well aware of the answer. 

“Do you need more?”

Unable to do anything else, he nodded slowly, whispering please. 

Smirking, you quickly stripped yourself out of your clothes. You would have made a show out of it, tease him slowly but you were equally desperate to fuck him so you quickly abandoned that idea. Throwing your garments somewhere, you clambered onto his lap, aligning yourself over his dick. You didn't need any prep or lube, you were practically dripping from just blowing him. 

Slowly sinking onto his length you threw your head back, finally feeling full. Seungcheol moaned too, burying his face between your boobs as you bottomed out, your grip like a vice. Holding onto his shoulders you began fucking yourself on his length, snapping your hips relentlessly. You could tell the feeling was too much for Seungcheol too as he bit on the soft skin of your breasts. It stung painfully but you let him - you always let him do whatever he wanted to you anyways. 

“Tired?” He looked up at you with a triumphant smirk as your pace began to falter thanks to the not so comfortable position of your legs. “Are you finally going to ask me for help?”

You shook your head. You didn't want him to have the upper hand anymore.

“Don't be stubborn, doll. You know it's better when I have my hands on you.” He ran his tongue along your breast, relishing the sweet and salty taste of you. “Untie my hands and we can make this better y/n. I know how much you love my fingers up your ass, and how much you like the grip on my hands all over you and how much you want me . Come on baby, untie me.”

You didn't want to, you really didn't want to but a part of you knew he was right. He could make you feel so good. 

Reaching over you pulled on the knot holding his hands together and in a flash his hands gripped the bottom on your thighs and with the sheer strength of his that you loved, he got up, lifting you along with him. Immediately pinning you to the wall, he began thrusting into you, drawing out the most exquisite moans from you as he hit the spot again and again and again. When unable to hold it anymore, you came around him, he tossed you onto the bed, pounding into you mercilessly, making you cum around him one more time before he painted your ass and back with his own release. Even then the night was far from over. 

After that he fucked you almost till dawn, pushing you to the limit as he made you cum so many times, you couldn't even keep count anymore. All you knew was that every bit of your body was screaming and creaming in pleasure - it was confirmed, you had to have Seungcheol for life, you had to do whatever it took to keep this insane man forever. You didn't know how but you could think about that later. For now, as day break approached, the two of you passed out in his bed. 

Seungcheol looked at you under the afternoon sun streaming into his room. You were fast asleep - he tried waking you up a couple of times but you just would not budge. Finally giving up he resorted to just staring at you. 

Last night was…. better than Seungcheol’s wildest dreams. He always knew he was a bit of a freak, but he didn't think he'd find someone to match it in this quiet town he had been reluctant to relocate to. Even when he first met you, he thought you'd be one sweet love making session at most but you took him completely by surprise. You were as wild as he was - you were down for anything he asked, you never said no and most importantly, you enjoyed it all. Seungcheol thought he had hit the jackpot with you. 

But yesterday was most definitely not normal. At that time he was thinking with his dick because all the blood in his body was clearly there but as he looked back at what happened, nothing about it was right. You had knocked him out, tied and gagged him up before you left him. You had hours of footage of you pleasuring yourself to the thought of him… 

Seungcheol had noticed the dates. It was way before the two of you had begun your little arrangement and he didn't know what to think about that. There were tiny sirens going off in his head telling him to run as fast as he could but Seungcheol couldn't stop staring at you. You were ridiculously beautiful and he just had the best sex of his life last night. 

When you whined softly and turned over in your sleep, Seungcheol finally rolled off the bed and dressed himself. Finding your scattered clothes on the floor he gathered them, looking at them with a frown. He couldn't have you wear these again and his clothes were far too big for your tiny frame. Maybe it was time to start making room in his closet for a few of your clothes.

Knowing how tired you must be given last night's events, he silently fished out the keys from the pocket of your pants and decided to bring you a fresh pair from your house. 

He shouldn't have gone over. He never should have stepped into your house. Maybe then the tiny sirens in his head wouldn't have become a full blown ringing. 

If he had never discovered the truth of your house, if he wasn’t staring at an exact replica of his space, maybe he would've never come to terms that last night was indeed extremely abnormal. 

You were not normal. 

Something was very very wrong with you, the dozens of medications on the dining table were a testament of that. Seungcheol knew he had to go. He had to leave you and that house and this town. He needed to run away from this madness.

But when he turned to leave, he felt his heart stop just for a second. 

There you were, right at the door, dressed in yesterday's clothes, looking at him expressionlessly. Your eyes ran over his face as he felt the hair on his skin stand. 

He had to go, he had to get the hell out of here. 

“Oh baby.” 

You cocked your head at him, leaning against the frame with a small smile. 

This was an expression you had never seen on Seungcheol's face before - a mix of shock and fear and repulsion. You could tell he wanted to run. You knew he would end things now, you knew it was over but alas, it was too late to let him go. 

You couldn't let him go. 

Taking a step ahead, you slowly closed the door behind you, inching closer to him, yesterday’s knife stashed safely in the back pocket of your pants.

“Do you want to see what's in my garage?” 

A/n - As usual, comments and reblogs are much appreciated - I'd love to hear your thoughts, it really helps :)

[randomshyperson]

Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.

Wanda + hugs + no. 24

Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.

The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.

Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.

Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.

She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.

But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.

Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.

Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.

She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.

The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.

"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."

Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.

"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”

“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”

She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while." 

"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."

She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.

But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.

Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.

"I really missed you, witchy." 

She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

[lady-phasma]

Fangtober Day 4 - Bondage

Dom!Armand x fem!reader (vampire)

Summary: Reader is a new addition to the Theater and Maître takes a particular interest in her and decides to show her the ropes take her to a private flat for a session, 3.3k words.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, it started out as bondage fluff but then turned into smut, tiny bit of blood play, unprotected sex but vampire sex so not risky.

a/n: Thank you so much to the moot who suggested actor vamp!reader new to the coven. However, I struggled with this one for a while - I finally just powered through it and here it is. fem!reader but reader not described.

So far the initiations and manual labor with the theater hadn’t been so bad. You slogged through your nights, cleaning the rows after the filthy humans left, helping with disposal after performances, whatever was needed. And you were rewarded with pre-dawn camaraderie, as you watched and listed to the elder vampires tell stories, rehearse, or just chat. Occasionally there were nights out among humans. The first few weeks had felt infinitely long, but now you had begun to adjust to a routine.

You began to nurture new and tentative friendships with Celeste and Estelle and even Sam. Even Santiago wasn’t always a cunt to you. As you had settled into the coven you had begun to notice Maître more and more. His eyes missed nothing. Constantly alert, constantly appraising, Armand watched his new addition. You felt an attraction to him that wasn’t there at first. You had been a little intimidated by Maître at the start of your tutelage. but now you wondered what exactly he was thinking about. Maybe it was all in your head.

As you swept the auditorium floor tonight you listened to the coven chatter and almost longed to join in. However, there was a small part of you that was glad to be alone with your chores. You didn’t feel like being seen this evening. Disappearing into the background suited you just fine. You were nearly finished, brushing the trash into the bin, when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Maître,” you bowed as soon as you turned to face him. Armand took a step toward you, slightly entering your personal space.

“Good evening, puce,” he let the words slide off his tongue, emphasizing your station. “Are you almost finished with your duties?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied happily, almost but not quite looking into his eyes. “I only need to empty this.” You gestured to your trash can.

“Take it to the incinerator then meet me in the lobby. Don’t dally.” Armand left before you could reply.

You dusted off your clothes and ran a hand over your hair, smoothing it down, while you went to the lobby.

“Maître,” you greeted Armand as you entered.

“Walk with me.” He held the door open, allowing you to exit first. You stepped into the cool Autumn air of the city. Halos of mist hung around the street lamps as the evening’s rain slowly evaporated from the pavement. The emptying street had a quality that only late night city streets have, a liminal feeling left behind after the humans were nearly all tucked into their beds.

“Come,” Armand commanded from beside you. You walked in silence, waiting on him to explain or elucidate, but he did not. Not for many blocks. It wasn’t long before you had left the arrondissement and crossed the Seine. Vampire speed, even slowed for public viewing, was still surprisingly fast to you.

“I thought we could go somewhere with more privacy. I have a flat nearby,” he offered, apropos of nothing. He lit a cigarette, offered you one, and smoked for the rest of the walk. He dropped the butt on the pavement and ground it out with the toe of his show before opening the door to the apartment building.

You followed Armand through the doors and up the three flights of stairs to the flat. When you entered and Armand had locked the door behind you, a fire blazed in the fireplace. He took off his coat and hung it on a rack by the door. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he entered the small room. It was modest, a studio with a closet-sized bathroom in one corner, a table in the kitchen area, and a full size bed taking up much more space than the traditional twin bed these apartments usually housed. The only places to sit with the table or bed so you stood, waiting.

Armand strode to the fireplace and made a show of warming his hands over the fire. At first he didn’t turn to look at you when he spoke. You watched his face, lit by the fire, nearly mesmerized by the yellow and orange light in his hair.

“You are no doubt wondering why I brought you here tonight. You show potential, perhaps not to be center stage any time soon, but maybe one day. But you have something…” His voice trailed off as he turned to you and moved to stand directly in front of you. He lightly stroked your cheek.

“Interesting,” he murmured to himself as he appraised you. “You trust me as your Maître, yes?”

“Of course, Maître,” you nodded.

“So if I ask you to do something you would do it without question?” His nails ran down the side of your neck to your shirt collar.

“Yes, Maître.” You didn’t nod this time, something in his face had shifted and a nod felt too unserious.

“Well, puce, if I ask you to do something tonight that you find objectionable, simply say the word ‘aubergine’ and you won’t have to do it.” He smiled gently at the befuddled look on your face as he began to unbutton your blouse. “You can remember that word?”

“Yes, Maître.”

“Perfect.” He took his time opening your shirt while your heart hammered in your chest. You knew he could hear it and it would have embarrassed you, yet… Yet it seemed as if this wasn’t new to him at all.

Armand slipped your blouse off your shoulders. Then he began to work on the buttons of your slacks. You weren’t sure why you were doing this. It wasn’t entirely because he was your Maître. That was certainly part of it, but it felt like a very small part. You mostly felt like you would do anything for this ethereal creature. His hands moved deftly and barely touched your skin as he slid your pants to the floor. You stepped out of the pile of clothing without being told to. You stood still as Armand picked up the shirt and slacks and laid them over the back of a kitchen chair. You felt self-conscious standing in your undergarments, but Armand didn’t look at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. He led you to the bed and directed you to sit.

“You should know, this isn’t about the theater, darling,” he said. “This… is for my own enjoyment.”

You watched him with trepidation and excitement as he opened a drawer in the wardrobe and removed something. It looked like silk cord or rope and your heart raced in your chest again. He laid the bundle of cord on the bed and stepped next to you. He tilted your face up toward his with the lightest pressure of his fingertips.

“Lay down for me,” Armand whispered. You did so. Armand slowly began to unbutton his shirt, then placed it on the kitchen chair as well. He untied and toed off his shoes, placed them neatly beneath the chair, and walked to the bed in in his pants and socks. His movements were maddeningly slow as your mind raced with the possibilities. He untied the bundle of cord and it glistened in the dim light, it looked soft, but strong. He knelt on the bed near your feet as he spoke.

“Bend your knees, press your heels to your rear,” he instructed. You felt your face go hot, a very human response, but you did as you were told. He wrapped the cord around your thigh, then your shin, and tied your leg in a bent position. The cord was silky-smooth against your skin, but the knots were tight. Then he repeated the process on your other leg. You were exposed and vulnerable like this, even with your undergarments still on. You could have easily broken the bonds using your weak, fledgeling strength, but this was far more interesting. Armand took the remaining lengths of cord and moved them to your side.

“Hands above your head, palms together.” You pressed your hands together above your head. He leaned forward, between your legs, and bound your wrists together. Every sensation was more intense now: the fabric of his trousers rough against your inner thighs, the drag of his fingers over your camisole, grazing your hard nipples. He stood up and your eyes followed him as he walked to the table and sat in the empty chair. He tapped a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and smoked. He didn’t rush. You tried not to let your thoughts show on your face, but you knew you failed. Your brow was furrowed as you waited on him. The cords dug into your skin even though you had barely moved at all. Your normally shallow and slow vampire breathing sped up. Your cunt throbbed.

After an eternity, Armand stood and approached the bed. He trailed his fingers down one of your knees, down your shin to where the cord crossed your leg. You shivered. He moved to kneel on the bed, between your legs again. Slowly he slid a hand up your belly, under your camisole. His fingertips brushed against the undersides of your breasts. You gasped at his touch. As he moved his hand back down, he used both to gently press your thighs apart. Even that small movement caused the cord to shift against your skin. You sucked air sharply between your teeth. He let his fingers slide down the insides of your thighs and gently touched you over your panties. You could feel your wetness against the fabric and moaned. You tried to lift your hips to his touch, but it was nearly impossible in this position. The cords seemed to tighten as your legs shifted. You moaned as he pulled his fingers away, craving more of him.

Armand didn’t make you wait long. His long fingers slid up your buttocks to where the cord held you, then moved his hands up your hips. He leaned forward, almost hovering above you. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against your nipple through the thin fabric. He licked gently, leaving a damp spot above the hard point of your nipple. You involuntarily arched your back to get closer to his mouth and whined when your bonds prevented it.

“Maître, please,” you begged.

“Please what?” Armand quipped back, but his tone was patient.

“More please, Maître,” the sound of your voice was almost pathetic to your own ears, but you didn’t care. You watched him through half-closed eyes as he rubbed his hands gently up and down your sides. His thumbs occasionally grazing a nipple. He slid your camisole up over your breasts and sucked one of your nipples between his teeth. You could have cried out from the shock, but the pressure was so light that you could only pant. You still needed more. You wanted to touch him, run your fingers through his dark curls, down his neck, press yourself into his mouth.

Before you could beg again he sucked harder on your nipple and pressed his hips between your legs. You made an inhuman sound as the front of his pants rubbed against your panties and your sensitive lips. He sucked and licked your nipple with increased focus, getting caught up in the sensations and grinding his hips in slow circles. The pressure of his cock against you was a momentary relief. Then he pulled back.

“So needy,” Armand growled as he kissed down your stomach. He rose up to look at you as his fingers delved under the edge of your panties at the crease of your hips. Slowly, teasingly, he moved your panties to the side. He trailed his finger over you aching, swollen cunt, dipping just into your folds before leaving you wanting more.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered as he looked into your heavily-lidded eyes. “So well for me.”

“Yes, Maître,” was all you could think to say, the words most likely inaudible to a human, but he heard.

Armand continued to hold your panties aside as he leaned down and kissed just above your slit. He flicked his tongue over your clit and you twitched, moaning and whining. He smiled and licked harder, his tongue sliding between your lips. He moaned and the vibration sent chills up your spine. He teased you, not offering you any satisfaction, over your clit, down to your entrance, and back up. You wanted to beg and plead, but tried to bite back the words. Whimpering moans escaped your mouth, incoherent sounds, as you shifted and pulled against the restraints. You made no effort to break free. You could have, but the need for him to touch you, to keep doing this, was nearly overwhelming.

When Armand sat up he let go of your panties and began to unbutton his pants. You groaned louder than you intended. The thought that he would reward you, give you what you craved, flew through your mind.

“Yes, a small reward for such good behavior,” he grinned. “Perhaps I’ll even give you a release.” He slid his pants and boxers off his hips. You stared unabashedly. He was gorgeous. His dark hair caught the low light of the room, his chest rippled as he moved his pants further down, the muscles of his stomach flexing tautly. He stroked his cock lightly as he moved closer to you. Your legs strained against the cord. You watched him watch as he lined up and pressed his cock against you. He looked up and met your gaze. Yes? he asked silently. You nodded. When he slid into you it felt as if all of your bonds tightened. Your hands itched to reach for him, but you kept them above your head. Your thighs and shins seemed to press against the cord as you widened your legs to make room for his hips.

“God,” he moaned as he sank all the way into you. He steadied himself with a hand on each of your knees as he began slow, long strokes. Every time he pressed into you, the cords binding you shifted and dug a little harder. His eyes nearly closed as he increased his pace, hands sliding down to grip your thighs, then hips. The combination of sensations was exquisite. Every movement, every thrust, intensified by your inability to move.

Armand moaned softly as he slid into you over and over. His eyes flicked between your face and watching himself disappear into your cunt. His fingers tightened on your hips slightly as he moved faster. You whimpered as you grew even more desperate to touch him. Just my hands, you thought. Armand looked up at you with a nearly compassionate expression and leaned forward. You lifted your hands, still bound, and ran your fingers through his hair. The new contact combined with the forward shift of his hips drew a groan from your throat. As you stroked his hair, he almost seemed to purr. His sounds were soft and deep. He kissed your neck and collarbone as he pounded into you.

The mingling of your voices, your need, filled the small apartment. You grazed your nails against Armand’s scalp. He moaned and cursed against your skin. You clenched tight around him, so close, so desperate. You tried rolling your hips again, despite your bonds, this time disregarding the pain. You continued to ignore the part of your mind that insisted you could break them and be free. He wanted this, needed this, and you wanted to give it to him.

“Oh Maître,” you whined into his dark curls. You felt a small shudder pass over his body and continued. “You feel so good. Harder. Please.” Your words came out as breathy whispers, a pleading note in your voice.

Armand shifted his weight to one hand on the bed and slid the other up behind your shoulder. He pulled you down onto his cock as he thrust up and you cried out. He lifted his head to look at you and you saw that he was almost smirking. Hearing you beg was exactly what he wanted. He licked his lips and leaned down, kissing your hungrily. His hips slammed into yours and you moaned and whined into his mouth. Lips and tongues and fangs collided. You tasted your own blood in your mouth and arched your back. Armand sucked at the wound on your bottom lip, his movements becoming slightly erratic. You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled back, gasping.

“Please Maître,” you looked into his eyes. “I want you to come.” He nearly smiled before kissing you again, licking the remaining blood from your already-healed lip. You barely noticed when he freed your wrists, his movements were so quick, and before the cord had slid off he muttered against your mouth.

“Touch yourself, puce, now.” Armand’s command alone could almost have been enough to bring your climax. You groaned as you slid your hand between your bodies. You looked at his face as you circled your clit, watching his reaction to how you tightened around him. He closed his eyes in the most beautiful expression of peace and pleasure. His hips began to stutter just a bit and you increased the pressure of your fingers as you brought yourself closer. You both groaned and panted as your climaxes neared. You closed your eyes and inhaled as you focused on his body above you, the way he moved inside you, the way his balls hit your ass with each thrust, the way you squeezed your thighs against his hips, the way his breath was hot on your skin. Your orgasm seemed to tense in all your muscles, starting everywhere at once, then it rushed over you. Your thighs shook. Your hand slowed as your arms trembled.

Armand nearly growled into your ear as you came around him. He thrust a few more times and, nails digging into your shoulder to hold you against him, he came hard. Mumbled curses and praise floated past your ear, but you were too far gone to pick out single words. He lay on top of you for a moment, balls emptying, cock twitching and softening, before pressing himself up to kneel between your legs again. He gently stroked a finger around from your temple, to your cheek, and along your jaw. Then he slowly began to pull out and you groaned as you felt his cum move with him. It was a singular and delightful feeling, but stimulation was becoming overstimulation with your legs still bound.

Armand knew this and as he knelt he began to untie your legs. He didn’t move slowly, but he took his time. Even though you were no longer human, he rubbed the skin of your legs where the cord had been as gently as if you were. He helped you straighten out your legs, one at a time, slowly and with care, with expertise. He stayed kneeling between your legs for a bit longer as he massaged them until they were flat on the bed. You watched with a mixture of awe and adoration. You also couldn’t help but to notice that he was equally gorgeous, soft and spent, as he was when he had started. You looked at him between your legs and felt a deepening attraction. This was a side of Armand that a select few were allowed to see and you were now included among them. Deftly, he slid his clothes off the rest of the way and lay on the bed next to you.

“Come here, puce,” he said with a tone that was more of an invitation than a command. He circled an arm around you and pulled you next to him. You laid your head on his chest and rested your hand on his stomach. You rolled half onto your side, wanting as much contact with him as possible. You let your hand travel up his stomach to play with the hair on his chest as you lay in his arm.

“Thank you, Maître,” you whispered as you closed your eyes.

Fangtober 2024 prompt list • Main masterlist

[puckinghischier]

The 7th Year

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader wants to celebrate Nico’s 7 year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils

notes: i really wanted to post this on his actual draft anniversary but i’m a slacker and didn’t finish it in time, so here it is now. it still counts cause it’s still draft week, right? anyways, i hope you enjoy and happy reading! 🫶🏼

[4.4k]

“Jack, it’s all wrong!” you cry out, looking at the orange cake sitting in front of you.

“Listen, we can fix it. I can run down to the nearest grocery store and have them make me a new one really quick,” Jack tries to reason with you, attempting to avoid the incoming meltdown.

Today was Nico’s seven-year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils. You know it’s an in-between milestone, most people celebrating every five years, but you didn’t care. You weren’t with him two years ago, having only been dating the hockey captain for a little over a year, so you were determined to make a big deal out of this milestone instead.

Your apartment was decked out in every tacky, red or devil related decoration imaginable, from cardboard cut-outs of Nico littered throughout the large living space to a custom ‘pin the horns on the nico’ party game you ordered for the occasion.

“Jack, I special ordered this cake four months ago, because the bakery he likes had a waiting list almost six months long for their cake decorator. I literally told them I’d pay extra if they could have it done by today,” you shut the lid of the cake box, not wanting to look at the orange monstrosity any longer.

You had sent them several reference pictures of what you wanted done, confirming with them last week that they had the correct pictures and color scheme.

“Well, at least they got the logo right?” Jack tries again, watching you run your hands through your recently curled hair.

People were set to start showing up any minute now, and you were panicking about being ready in time for Nico’s return home in a little over an hour. You barely had time to shower and make yourself presentable after spending all day transforming your apartment into a Nico museum.

All of his trophies and medals from childhood up until now are displayed on various surfaces around your shared apartment, action shot posters are taped on the living room walls, taking the place of your decorative pictures, and several of his old jerseys are on display in shadow boxes propped up in the high-top chairs that usually sit around the small table on your balcony, but are currently placed in various spots around the large room.

“Yeah, sure. The logo says Devils, but the colors say Flyers,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying off your fresh make-up.

Jack had been a trooper today. Luke too. The two of them had shown up to your apartment not even twenty minutes after Nico left with Jesper and Timo this morning for their early tee time. They helped you decorate and arrange your entire apartment, ran all over Hoboken with you grabbing last minute stuff for the evening, and Luke is out right now picking up the catering order that was supposed to be delivered but somehow got marked for pick up.

Your phone starts ringing in the middle of your deep breathing moment, trying to calm your nerves.

“Luke, please tell me you have the food and are on your way home,” you answer the phone, praying Luke is calling to check in and not to give you bad news.

“Yeah, I got it. On my way now. Just calling to check and see if you need anything else while I’m out,” he tells you, the sound of his car door shutting heard in the background.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. At least the food is taken care of, you think to yourself. “No, I think we’re good. I double checked everything before I got in the shower. And Jack has been setting stuff up while I was getting ready. Just please get here in one piece with the food before I have a small stroke,” you attempt a joke, but your tone sounds more strained than anything.

“Aye Aye, Mrs. Captain,” you hear through the phone, picturing the small salute Luke is likely doing right now.

You chuckle out a goodbye and hang up your phone.

“So, am I good to go get changed now, or do you need me to talk you off a ledge right now?” Jack asks you, treading lightly.

You send him an unamused glare. “No, I think I’ve done everything I can do until Luke gets here with the food. Go, change. Shower if you need to,” you wave him off, grabbing the cake on the counter in front of you and walking to place it in the large fridge.

“Alright, but if I hear the balcony door open I won’t hesitate to run out here butt naked to make sure you’re not trying to make an escape,” he sings out as he walks out of your kitchen, turning down the hallway towards your guest bathroom.

You flip him off even though he can’t see you, a smile on your face nonetheless.

Thirty minutes later, Jack is showered and dressed and a few of Nico’s teammates have shown up, decked out in the t-shirts you had ordered and distributed to everyone.

Each of Nico’s teammates are wearing a shirt with his picture from his draft on it. No matter who you were looking at, Nico’s smiling baby face, devils hat on his head and devils jersey pulled over his formal attire, with one finger pointed in the air to signify his being picked first overall, was looking back at you.

You thought it would be funny to have Nico walk into a surprise celebration with his face staring back at him from nearly everyone in attendance, and when you pitched the idea to his teammates they were all for it.

You had ordered your own shirt with Nico’s face on it, too. Although, yours was one of the shirts in the WWE style, overlapping, various pics of Nico making up the design.

As the time got closer to Nico coming home, more and more of his teammates and their significant others showed up, ready to surprise their captain.

Ten minutes before Nico was due arrive, you get a call from Jesper.

“Hey, you guys almost here?” you answer, walking away from the noise of your living room.

“Yeah, leaving the bar now,” he tells you, pausing to bid someone in the background goodbye and ringing out ‘thank you’ a few times as he walks out of the bar.

Jesper and Timo were tasked with keeping Nico busy and away from home today. It started with their game of golf, but quickly turned into an additional eighteen holes and trying to kill time at the clubhouse bar when their games went by far quicker than they anticipated.

Around lunchtime, Timo called you and told you Nico kept saying he was going to bow out early to come home and spend some time with you, but you begged them to find a way to keep him occupied. You ended up having to send him a message, telling him you were out with a friend for a quick lunch before a fake nail appointment that turned into a real one once he asked to see what design you had chosen this time. Which is why you were late getting ready, having to leave Jack to decorate the apartment during your impromptu salon trip.

Most of the time you love that Nico is so invested in your relationship. He always wants to spend time with you, going with you to hair and nail appointments, following you around like a puppy when you go shopping, and simply sticking around the house on days when he has nothing planned just to catch up on your latest reality show obsession he always gets hooked into.

Today, though, you wish he was a little more apt to spending time with his friends. The amount of ‘I miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to come home and binge love island!’ texts you got today made you love him even more – if that’s even possible – but also made your anxiety sky rocket each time, because you know if he wanted to, he would simply leave in the middle of his plans with Timo and Jesper, no amount of convincing able to keep him there.

“Alright, don’t forget your shirts,” you start to remind him. You turn your body to look behind you, hearing a chorus of “Lukey!” and “Moose!” ring out, signaling Luke was finally back with the food. “Hey, I gotta go Jesp, Luke just got back with the food. Be safe!” you rush out before hanging up, making your way back into the small crowd.

You weave through bodies until you reach your kitchen, watching Luke attempt to sit down the large disposable trays.

“Luke, please don’t drop those,” you run over to him, helping him slide the heavy food onto your kitchen island.

You unstack the pans, making sure each one is unharmed and an appropriate distance from the edge of the counter.

“C’mon, Y/N, have a little more faith in me than that. I can carry a few trays of food,” he tells you, dramatically flexing his arms at you.  

You roll your eyes at the curly-headed giant. Checking the time on your phone, you figure you have enough time to try and set up the food a little bit before Nico gets here. Opening the various pans, you freeze.

“Luke…what is this?” you ask him, a cold feeling washing over you.

Luke furrows his brows at you, peeking over your shoulder from his spot behind you. “The food you asked me to get? Is this a trick question?”

You dropped the flimsy lid, condensation from the hot dish flying everywhere.

When you were thinking about what food you wanted to have for the party, you knew it would be in the off-season, the Devils losing their playoff spot pretty early this season. So, you figured it would be a good time to order a few pans of his favorite dishes from his favorite Italian restaurant.

You ordered a pan of their lasagna, chicken parm, and a large pan of a steak and pasta dish specific to the restaurant. You had called them to confirm this morning, which is how you found out it was marked as pick up instead of delivery, causing Luke to have to drive forty-five minutes one way in order to grab the food.

What you were unaware of, however, is the fact that this restaurant, apparently, also caters an array of vegan options.

When you opened the three pans, you were met with a large pan of what looked like roasted cauliflower with tomato sauce, eggplant boats covered in pesto, and what looked like breaded and baked zucchini. 

You had no issue with vegan food, some of it being some of the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten, but this is not at all what you envisioned surprising Nico with.

“I ordered lasagna, chicken parm, and steak pasta. There is no chicken, parm, steak, or layered noodles in front of me right now,” you try to keep your tone even and calm, knowing it’s not Luke’s fault.

“I swear, they handed me the box of food that had your name on it. I even checked the receipt and everything,” Luke defended himself.

You can feel the tears welling up, despite your attempt at taking big, deep breaths to avoid your emotions getting the best of you.

When the first tear falls over, the rest come crashing out before you could even stop them. You bring your face to your hands and start sobbing, upset that you couldn’t have everything be perfect for such an important day for Nico.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Luke coos as he wraps you in a hug, your face still hidden by your hands. “You’re going to ruin your make-up. You don’t want to greet Nico while looking like a little raccoon, do you?” you let out a chuckle at Luke’s words, his attempt at cheering you up working for a quick moment.

You bring your hands away from your face, sniffling and trying to carefully wipe your eyes. Luke keeps you trapped in a hug, giving you a few moments to collect yourself before stepping back, rubbing your arms instead.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted Nico to walk in here and see all of his friends here, ready to celebrate him. I wanted to surprise him with his favorite meal and his favorite cake from his favorite bakery, since he doesn’t ever get this stuff during the season. But instead he gets an orange cake and a vegan dinner,” you huff, gesturing to the food in front of you.

“Well, he’ll definitely be surprised,” Luke attempts another joke, this one earning a sarcastic laugh instead of a genuine one. “Listen, we can fix it, okay? We’ll call the place and get a refund then order a few pizzas, alright? It’ll be fine. Everyone likes pizza.”

He bends his knees so he’s eye level with you, trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

You look over to the food on the counter, bringing a sliver of your bottom lip in-between your teeth, mulling the idea over in your head.

“Yeah, we can do that. Everyone does like pizza, don’t they?” you try to convince yourself pizza will be fine, you could just take Nico out to dinner for his Italian food later this week.

“They sure do. And lucky for you, I have the best pizzeria in Hoboken on speed dial. I’ll make them do a rush order for their favorite customer,” Luke winks down at you, stepping away to pull out his phone and make the last-minute order.

You cover the food in front of you back up, picking up each tray and tossing them in the trash can at the end of your island, knowing that a group of hungry hockey players wouldn’t want three trays worth of vegetables to eat for party food.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, trying to compose yourself and wipe away any mascara residue when Jack comes running through the open doorway, frantic eyes landing on you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying? Jesper just texted and said they’re on the elevator on their way up,” he rushes out, walking towards you to make sure you’re alright.

“Catering mishap, Luke’s ordering pizza now. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Go grab him, quick,” you suddenly perk up, nerves bubbling in your stomach.

As you follow Jack out of the kitchen and make your way to the front of the small crowd at the end of your entry way, all you can think about is hoping Nico likes what you’ve done. You hope he doesn’t think the decorations are too tacky, or that the shirts are weird. You hope he’s okay with eating greasy pizza and orange cake. You hope he likes the custom Halifax and Devils split jersey you plan to gift him later to represent where he started and where he is now. Overall, you just hope he understands how proud you are of him.

You see Jack and Luke walk up beside you out of the corner of your eye, matching with the rest of their teammates that are surrounding you. Luke leans down to whisper “Pizza’s ordered, it’ll be here in twenty,” into your ear before standing back to his original height and facing forward, waiting on his captain to walk through the door.

You’re suddenly hit with a thought about how thankful you are for the people surrounding you. For Jack and Luke who dealt with your demanding and crazy self today, talking you off of ledges and running around doing your bidding all day long. You’re thankful for the teammates that showed up today, ready to celebrate the captain they love almost as much as you do. You’re thankful for Timo and Jesper, making sure Nico stays in the dark about the surprise, doing everything in their power to keep him out of your hair until this moment.

You’re so incredibly thankful that the universe has allowed you to not only love someone as kind, loving, and special as Nico, but that he loves you back just as much. You also gained an entire family through Nico, his teammates treating you like one of their own, showing you just as much love and care as they do him. You’ve found some of your best friends through him, Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jesper being four of the best people you’ve ever had in your life.

The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your sentimental thoughts. You see Jesper enter first, his Nico shirt looking a little out of place paired with his golf pants. Nico follows him in, blindfolded. You have to stop a snort from making its way out, not knowing Timo and Jesper were going to resort to blindfolding him. Timo follows a step behind Nico, hands on his shoulders, guiding him and preventing him from bumping into anything.

Timo guides him to a few feet in front of you, stopping him before dropping his hands from his shoulders.

“Alright, Cap, you can take your blindfold off now,” Jesper tells him, him and Timo quickly stepping over to where you stand, joining the rest of their team.

Nico reaches up the untie the blindfold on his head. “I swear to god, if you guys did this just to mess with me and take me to another bar I’m going to kill both of you. I told you I just wanted to go home to Y/N-“ Nico stops mid-sentence when the cloth falls into his hands.

A loud, “Surprise!” rings out around the room, Nico’s eyes darting to each person, then down to their shirts.

You stand there, smiling at his shocked face.

“What-“ he starts, but stops, speechless at the scene in front of him.

You step forward the few feet to him, his gaze finally landing on you.

“Happy draft anniversary, baby,” you tell him, smiling up at him.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he didn’t remember what day it was until this moment, his eyes looking around the room again, understanding settling in on the choice of shirts.

“You did all this? For me?” he asks, a smile taking over his face as he looks down on you.

“Well, duh,” you tell him. “Your seven-year draft anniversary is a big deal, you know?”

He beams down at you, the amount of love in his eyes enough to nearly knock you down.

“I love you, you know that?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body close to his.

“I think you’ve told me once or twice,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes at you, bringing his lips down to meet yours. The kiss is innocent and sweet, considering most of his team is stood behind you, but it was enough to cause a feeling of warmth to wash over you, all the way down to your toes.

When you pull back from the kiss you can’t help but to keep smiling at him. “Alright, go greet your teammates now. I’ll find you later,” you tell him, patting him on the chest as you step back.

Nico gives you a wink before he walks over to his friends and teammates, making his way through hugs and handshakes.

You mostly sit back and observe for most of the night, splitting off from the festivities when the pizza was delivered, placing it in the kitchen and announcing everyone to just serve themselves.

You make your way around your apartment, conversing with Nico’s various coworkers. You cross paths with Nico a few times, each time he tried to whisk you away to your shared bedroom, but you insisted he have a good time with his friends, there’ll be plenty of time for the two of you later. You stick around Jack and Luke some, but finding yourself in a corner talking to Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend towards the end of the night.

“Y/N, seriously, this is great. I wish I would have thought of something like this for Jesper. Nico hit the jackpot with you,” Nicole compliments.

Your cheeks redden. “He deserves it. I mean, he left everything he’d ever known in Switzerland to come here and pursue this. And look how well he did for himself,” you turn to look over at him standing with Jonas and Erik, Jonas attempting his turn at pinning the devil horns on the large poster of Nico on the wall.

You’ve always been amazed at Nico’s bravery and determination to pursue this dream, knowing how hard it was for you to move just a few states away from your family, much less halfway across the world. He proved every single person that told him he wouldn’t make it wrong, not only getting drafted, but being the first overall pick. And now he earned his captaincy on top of that, proving he’s not only a phenomenal player, but an even better teammate and leader.

“I think he did very well for himself, and not just in reference to hockey, either,” she tells you, leaning over and placing a hand on your leg to emphasize her point.

You look down, not particularly knowing how to respond to her compliments.

“Hey, Y/N, want us to stick around and help clean up,” you hear a voice ask you, turning around to see only Jack, Luke, Jesper and Timo remaining.

Nico walks over to you as Nicole stands and joins Jesper.

“Nah, you guys head out. We’ll call you tomorrow if we need any help,” Nico answers for you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

“That’s code for ‘get out you goons, I’m trying to be alone with my girl right now,’” Jack says, earning a chuckle from the group.

You and Nico walk everyone to the door, saying your goodbyes before shutting the apartment door and turning around to observe the state of your apartment.

“Don’t even think about trying to clean anything up tonight. You’re not lifting a finger for the rest of the night,” Nico threatens, slipping his arms around your torso from behind, burying his face in your neck.

“C’mon, at least let me clean up the cups your lazy teammates didn’t throw away,” you pat his hands, starting to walk him over to start picking up the red, plastic cups.

“Alright, but after that we’re going to the bedroom and aren’t leaving until this time tomorrow,” Nico points a finger at you as he separates from your body.

The two of you gather all of the stray cups, bringing them into the kitchen to throw them away. You notice the empty pizza boxes, breaking a few of them down while asking Nico to put the leftovers in your fridge so they don’t ruin.

“What’s in the box?” he asks, grabbing the white cake box and dragging it out of the fridge.

“Oh no! I totally forgot about the cake!” you exclaim.

“You bought me a cake?” Nico opens the box.

He looks up at you, amusement in his eyes. “Schatz, why did you get me an orange Devils cake?”

You groan, bringing your hands up to rake them down your face.

“It was supposed to be red, but the bakery fucked it up and I didn’t know until they delivered it,” you explained, walking over to stand next to him as he looks between the cake and you.

“The catering was messed up too,” you continued. “I tried to order your favorite dishes from that Italian place you like, but they sent a bunch of vegan dishes instead, so Luke had to order pizza last minute.”

Nico lets out a laugh at your confession. “So, you threw me a draft anniversary party with an orange cake and vegan food?” he teases, closing the lid to the cake box and turning his body to face you.

You give him a pout. “Don’t make fun of me, I was trying to be nice to you.”

This earns another laugh, Nico placing his hands on either side of your pouting face.

“You could have thrown me a party with water soup as the entrée and ice cubes as appetizers and I would still think it’s the best party I’ve ever been to, simply because you planned it,” he tells you, looking down into your eyes.

“You meant it? You enjoyed yourself tonight?” you ask him earnestly, that small seed of worry making its way back into your brain.

Nico doesn’t answer, he leans down to kiss you for the second time that night. This time, though, he wasn’t as slow and sweet as he was when you had an audience.

His kiss isn’t rushed, but with his tongue slipping its way into your mouth, it quickly turns into a partial make-out session in your kitchen.

He pulls back once the two of you need to come up for air, resting his forehead against yours.

“I had a blast tonight. The shirts were a nice touch, by the way,” he smirks at you.

You let out a giggle, thinking of how funny it was when he registered all of his teammates were wearing his face on their chest.

“Thank you, seriously,” his tone turns serious. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what this means to me. I just wish I could’ve had you by my side from the start.”

You look at him through his long lashes, not being able to think about anything except for how much you love him at this moment.

“Well, you’ll have me until the end of it. Or until you get sick of me, whichever comes first,” you joke, causing Nico to pull his forehead back from yours.

He uses his hands that are still on your face to tilt your head up to look at him. “Not possible. If anyone gets sick of anyone around here it’s going to be you getting sick of me, because I never want to be anywhere but by your side.”

You just stare up at him, shaking your head in a no motion, the intensity of his stare taking any words from the tip of your tongue.

You both just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like hours, but was really just a few moments.

“Enough of us just standing in the kitchen, I think it’s time we take this little party to our bedroom so I can really show you how thankful I am,” he breaks the silence, his eyes going from love to lust before you could even blink.

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just throwing you over his shoulder while you squeal, carrying you to your bedroom. As you pass all of the decorations on the hallway walls on your way to the bedroom, you’re already thinking of how you can make year eight’s anniversary even better, especially if Nico is as thankful next year as he proves to be this year, thanking you over and over and over again once you reach your bedroom.

[pinkbewwy-milk]

based on starsandskies' prompt list.

Day 3: Orgasm Control ft. Silco.

warnings: heavy dom/sub dynamics, edgind, control kink, a bit degradation, overstimulation.

You fell face-first onto the couch with a groan, your legs tense and your body shaking. Your eyes were closed and tears were beginning to trickle down your flushed cheeks. The breathing was deep and your heart was pounding so hard you could probably see the movement within your ribs.

Sitting beside you, arm outstretched with a cigar between his fingers, completely calm unlike you, was Silco. He stared down at you with little compassion, taking a drag on the cigar from time to time. He half-closed his eye and gently pushed his fingers inside you, a slow, shallow rhythm, nothing like the frenetic movement he had been maintaining a few minutes ago. You moaned, more of a cry than a sound of pleasure.

“S-Silco… Please…”, you pleaded, feeling your body stiffen again. Fluids and lubricant dripped between your thighs, staining the velvet of the couch, which made the man growl.

“Get up before you ruin something, Prudence”, he ordered, his voice so cold that a shiver ran through you. With difficulty you bent your knees, raising your hips in the process. You left the rest of your torso on the couch, unable to force yourself to lift the weight. Silco raised an eyebrow, but decided to give you that little respite. On the other hand, however, he increased the speed and strength of his hand.

“I-I cannot t-take it any more”, you growled, clenching your teeth and feeling the orgasm approaching once again. You were so sensitive, after so much time of that endless dance, that it only took a little to put you over the edge again. “I-I beg you… I—”.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak”, Silco interrupted, curling his fingers and touching just that spot inside you. The squeal made him smile slightly, his own erection increasing at seeing you so weak. He extended his thumb, almost tenderly caressing your asshole, earning another whimper from you.

You didn't respond, knowing that being obedient was the best way to end your torment. You heard the man sigh, and right after that the thumb pushed inside you as well. You took a breath with difficulty, tightening your abdomen and involuntarily tensing your muscles around Silco's fingers.

“Hm? Does it take so little to make you cry? Pathetic”, he spat, his words accompanied by the smoke from the cigar. He made himself more comfortable on the couch, leaning his body to better face yours. By then his index and middle fingers were knuckle-deep in you, his thumb about to follow the same fate. Instead of moving them in and out, the man simply opened and closed them inside you, as if expanding you, stimulating from there as he knew you liked. You, now unable to even beg, could only moan and cry, your legs shaking so hard that just for a second a little worry managed to sneak into Silco's heart.

It didn't last long, still, but he supposed it was enough for him to decide it was too much. He had been doing this for almost three hours, pleasing you in every way possible but not letting you cum. The last half hour had been brutal, with Silco being so violent in his movements that your poor skin was red and sore already. He knew it was only the need to have at least one orgasm what kept you willing still, as there was no other way to explain why you hadn't got up and left already. After all, the office door was unlocked and no one but the two of you were in the bar at this time of day.

But you wanted him to give it to you. You both knew it.

“Do you want to cum, my little Prudence?”, he asked, the trap set. You were either too far gone to listen, or too lucid to open your mouth; you were still not allowed to speak, after all. Whatever it was, the space of silence (not counting the noises coming from both your mouth and Silco's movements in your pussy) pleased the man, who took the last drag of the cigar, threw what was left in the ashtray, and finally sat down on his knees. “Answer me”.

“Yes!”, you exclaimed without a second's hesitation. The velvet that had not gotten wet at the height of your sex was soaked at the height of your face, because between the sweat and the tears, which now escaped like waterfalls, a dark stain had already formed on the material. “Yes, yes! I beg you! Plea—!”.

“Tsk”, Silco silenced, and if you were going to say anything else, the scream that followed completely drowned your words. With his now free hand, the man brought it between your legs and frantically stimulated your clit. At the same time, he resumed the almost animalistic thrusts of his fingers inside you, adding a third finger to your cunt and stretching his thumb as far as it would go inside your asshole.

The sounds were vulgar, almost grotesque, and Silco lived to hear that sweet melody. You heard nothing, white noise clouding all your senses. In your mind there was only your tired pussy and the intruders who would let you, perhaps at last, reach the long-awaited orgasm. You were not allowed to move either, but your body rocked on its own accord against the man, hips bucking to help the cause.

It didn't take long. In just a couple of minutes you felt a thousand stars explode inside you, the impact of the orgasm being so strong that you stopped breathing altogether during it. Your cunt clenched around Silco's fingers, the muscles in your asshole tensing as well to completely entrap the man's hand. He stood still, obedient at last to his lover's body, watching with fascination the clear, translucent liquid that escaped in jets from that beautiful cunt. The velvet was stained in the end, anyway, as well as the cuffs of his shirt and the vest he was wearing. Some of it even ended up on the carpet.

But none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered, to you, after finally catching your breath, was feeling your body relax completely after all those hours of torture. Your legs gave out completely and you were left lying back down on the couch, breathing slowing and muscles softening again. Silco always made you feel good, but it was only after suffering so much that he made you feel this good, with such intensity and subsequent pleasure. You smiled, relieved and happy, after one of the best orgasms you had had in your time with the man.

For Silco, on the other hand, after unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall down his slim thighs, the only thing that mattered was that finally it would be his turn.

[taiyaakii]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Busy schedule ! . . . ( 西村力 )

— pairing: 西村力 x reader — contains: angst, readers a lonely clingy loser, mean ki, fluff — now playing: 一子青葉

"She became a victim of my busy schedule though, and I know that it's not fair that don't mean that I don't care."

Riki was always busy. He had a bunch of extracurriculars he did for school on top of dance, so you never really got the chance to see him anymore.

He'd always apologize, saying he knew it sucked never getting any of his attention but in the end, nothing ever changed. He was still busy and you still rode the train home alone every day.

Riding the train by yourself wasn't a new concept, lonely yeah but you got used to it eventually.

People on the train were usually either elders coming home from work or students huddling in groups of themselves, and it sounds depressing but beyond Riki, you didn't really have friends, which was okay. Until Riki joined a bunch of extracurriculars beyond his daily dance practice, which left him no time for you.

And it's bad to think about but the thought eventually got a hold of you and you started wondering if Riki enjoyed not being around you as often. You were clingy so it was understandable wanting some space from you, it still made you upset to think about though.

This thought alone has caused you to distance yourself from Riki subconsciously, which despite how busy he is he noticed because you're still his girlfriend after all.

-

The train was often packed with teenagers on the way home, you'd think you'd bump into someone and make friends for once but not once has it happened. You've begun to lose hope in talking to people.

Sure you could strike up a conversation but that's terrifying so you choose not to, which is probably one of the reasons you don't have any friends. How you started knowing Riki on the other hand was a grace from god.

In middle school, Riki came up to you rather then the other way around and asked to be friend's.

Spacing out on the train, thinking to yourself made you realize just how lonely you were when he was he wasn't around. Considering he's been your only friend since you guys were 12, being 18 in high school now. You've become slightly dependent on him, and it's another thing you've added to the long list of your lonely life.

Long lost in thought you feel a head hit your shoulder, you jump slightly cause it startled you but when you look to your right its a boy. Probably fell asleep, why else would he put his head on a stranger's shoulder.

Your body tensed up a bit, it was kinda hard to not be tense with someone resting on you.

You wanted to wake him and ask him to move but disrupting him wasn't in your best interest so you left him alone. On the plus side his hair smelled really nice.

-

The train came to an abrupt stop which shook the boy awake

Realizing he had fallen asleep on a stranger, he stood up and started apologizing profusely like a scolded child.

You followed in his steps and stood up, letting out shaky reassurance and telling him not to worry about it. It was overwhelming with people around looking at the two of you but eventually, he calmed down and explained himself "I really didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that, let me make it up to you!"

He was enthusiastic and energetic, especially for someone who was just freaking out.

"Oh oh no need! Really it's not a big deal." Still shaky you tried to convince him he was blowing it out of proportion. He wasn't taking no for an answer and he even managed to get your number so he could apologize more properly later.

After that he said goodbye and ran off the train, leaving you dumbfounded. You kind of just spaced out the rest of the way home, the whole situation was so dumb it was kind of funny.

So funny you wanted to tell Riki which you planned to do when you guys called tonight, you guys always called sometime before bed.

It was a point he made. No matter how busy he was and how little time he had for you, he'd always call.

You laid in bed waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

12am and no call. You weren't mad at him, you understood he couldn't always be there but you thought some notice would've been nice, instead of just laying there for hours on your phone.

Time passed and you gave up on waiting for a call. You placed your phone on your nightstand and got in bed.

Your mind started to wander, what was he doing that was so important? All of his activities end before 5 so why couldn't he call you? Was he okay? Was it a family thing? Did you do something?

In the midst of thinking you fell asleep.

-

In English the next day, during break time. It was your 4th period and Riki had yet to even mutter a word to you. As time passed, it was getting more upsetting and even more nerve-wracking.

You scanned over everything that's happened the past few days and you couldn't think of anything you've done.

You looked back at Riki to see him sitting at his desk analyzing his work, but you turned back around when you got a text.

Some random number that you didn't have saved.

"You're in English rn right?" The text creeped you out a bit, so you pressed to know who it was "Oh shit sorry! Just realizing I never gave you my name yesterday! It's Akio from the train. I wanted to come say hi if you were in English :)" Knowing it was him made it sorta less creepy feeling, he was still technically a stranger though.

You hesitated on replying but gave in "Ohh right haha, yeah I'm in English"

He liked the message but didn't actually say anything back.

Eventually, he came swinging in loudly with a booming "HI" as soon as he opened the door. It shocked not only you but everyone.

Riki who was staring at the boy in confusion.

Riki's eyebrows furrowed even more as he saw the boy walk up to you and hug you like you'd known him forever, slightly glaring at the boy. He sit's down in the chair next to you "What class do you have next?" His voice still much too loud for the atmosphere, the girl next to us shushed him, in which he apologized quietly and turned back to you.

"Uh math." You said quietly, shaken up by the boys incredibly friendly demeanor.

The boy started rambling on about how that was his next class too and how it's surprising you guys hadn't become friends sooner, all while you look back at Riki to see him still eyeing the boy down.

Riki got easily jealous, and he was possessive, but this looked more like confusion and annoyance then anything.

While on the other hand luckily for you the boy tended to talk more then he listened which was good as you were still too nervous to talk to him like a normal person.

Once Riki realized you weren't all that invested in what the boy had to say he finally took his eyes off of the boy and returned to his work.

After what felt like forever of Akio rambling and you silently smiling and nodding, it was time for Math.

Besides Math and English, you and the boy didn't have any other classes together, so the rest of the day went as normal, besides the fact that Riki seemed busier than usual and wasn't talking to you.

But the way home from school was different.

On the train ride home, you were walking to sit where you usually do when a familiar voice started to yell for you, you turned around, and it was Akio.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to a seat, exclaiming that now you had someone to ride the train with. Before you could get a word in, he continued, once again going on about anything and everything.

He was a bit over the top for you, but you had to admit, he was nice, and the company was nice too.

-

The train came to a stop, and you said your goodbyes, he offered to walk you home, but you declined. You told him you lived a bit from the station, and he left it at that. Getting home you got into some comfy clothes and passed out.

Asleep for about an hour and a half, you were awoken by a text from Riki

All it read was "I'm coming over" Don't get me wrong you were excited he was coming over; this was the first time in a while, but you were still upset with him for not only not calling you but also ignoring you all day. So you just texted back a simple "ok" and started your homework while waiting for him to arrive.

He didn't live very far so it didn't take long, as soon as he got there, he plopped on your bed and gave you a look.

You asked him what it was for, and he stayed silent for a few seconds followed by a contemplating hum, "Who was he? The guy in English that was acting all buddy-buddy with you?" He said it so calmly as if he didn't care if he got an answer.

"Ohh I met him on the train" You turned back to the homework on your desk "He fell asleep on me and asked for my number so he could apologize later!" his brows furrowed and his eyes creased a bit, "Seriously?"

You nodded and he continued "He gave you his number so he could 'apologize later'?" You again nodded at his very sarcastic question.

His tongue played with the inside of his cheek "Has he apologized yet?" He sounded almost annoyed

You chuckled nervously, his gaze was strong and intimidating.

"No, not yet.." He let out a 'psh' sound, he was clearly annoyed but not with you. More so with the situation. "He gave you his number cause he thought you were cute. Not cause he wanted to apologize." His voice was deeper

You didn't believe it so you rebutted "That's not true ki, I'm sure he'll apologize soon!" He continued to look at you, almost like he was trying to analyze what you were thinking. "Block him" He sits up on your bed

"What??"

He repeats himself "Block him"

"Why Riki."

"Are you dumb? He clearly doesn't want to just apologize. Does he know you have a boyfriend?" He started to sound angry, almost a little sad sounding. "How do you know that? You've never met him."

"I've met guys like him and you didn't answer my question, does he know you have a boyfriend? Me? Does he know you have me?"

You opened your mouth but nothing came out for a second, "I don't know? I mean I didn't mention it" Before you can finish, he tsk's and looks away "But the only reason I didn't mention it was cause he didn't ask Riki. I really don't think he's trying to get with me."

He ignored you "What's so good about him anyway?" He was starting to get fed up "He's nice Riki. I mean he made time to see me in English today despite being busy himself." You emphasized the 'made time to see me' part which Riki took as a jab.

You didn't necessarily mean it as one but you were tired of never seeing your boyfriend and so it just kinda came out. "You know I try to make time for you." Instead of sounding annoyed, he sounded genuinely hurt and tired, he looked down a bit as he continued "And I know that you don't really have friends besides me but you shouldn't befriend the first person that talks to you." He gets off your bed and heads to the door, "It's stupid and pathetic." He finishes before he shuts the door, harder than he should have.

His voice was laced with venom, almost like the sadness from before completely desecrated. And it left you dumbfounded too.

You weren't one to cry, you didn't cry about anything.

Not that you couldn't, but you made a point not to. It's pathetic and embarrassing, but despite that, you felt your eyes well up. You wiped them before anything could come out and decided to head to bed early. Couldn't cry if you weren't awake!

Granted it took forever to get to sleep, but you kept replaying what Riki said non-stop. 'Stupid and pathetic' weren't new words to you, but when they came out of Riki's mouth they felt a million times worse.

-

Going to School was dreadful, more than before.

Riki was avoiding you and so you were avoiding him back. You continued to hang out with Akio, it probably wasn't the best idea but you rather hang out with someone Riki doesn't like than be lonely again.

A whole week of this pettiness has gone by, nightly phone calls have stopped, goodnight and good morning texts, walking you to and from school whenever he had the chance, all of it stopped.

You know you shouldn't totally blame Ki, it wasn't completely his fault. You said some mean stuff too, but you couldn't help but be so angry at him despite it all.

Of course, you guys have gotten into arguments, and of course, with those arguments came insults but he'd never said something so cruel to you, something you confided in him he used against you, which hurt the most.

Everything was too much to think about so you dove into your studies, more than you already were. Not only studies but other things too, anything to get your mind off of it. Throwing yourself into things isn't a new concept for you, you did it whenever you got overly anxious. It would cause you to eat less, go outside less, and socialize even less than you usually do. Now the difference between then and now is you'd usually have Riki to make you feel better, but you don't so sitting in your dark room all day will continue.

Riki on the other hand, doesn't know what he's feeling. Though he's noticed you not taking care of yourself properly which is making him feel crazy guilty, he knows it's because of him.

Riki's so mad at you for choosing some other guy but he feels so bad for the things he said.

He didn't mean it, he knew you knew that, at least he hoped.

He just wanted to apologize and make it all better but he couldn't. His pride mixed with not having a lot of time made it hard to talk to you so he just didn't bother. Plus he wanted to truly work out what he was going to say before he attempted to talk to you.

He'd catch your eyes in every class, in the lunchroom, in the auditorium, everywhere. He wanted to see your face, he wanted to see you and hold you but he just couldn't let himself be vulnerable and admit he misses you. He's hoping you'd do that but you were just as 'non-vulnerable' as he was, maybe even more.

Which meant he'd either have to make it up to you or lose you over some random boy you met a few weeks ago. Luckily for you, he's sickly in love with you whether he'd admit it or not so he chose the former.

-

It wasn't spontaneous, Riki thought it over.

He planned when it would happen, how it would happen, where it would happen, and what he thought the outcome would be. He wanted to start it all off by making sure to spend the whole day with you.

So he went to your house before school, he loved walking you to school but he rarely got to do it since he had to be at school so early. But the way you get all giddy when you see him at the door makes him happy so he canceled morning activities to walk you.

Seeing him at the door was a little surprising, especially cause he didn't knock, you opened it before he could and the walk to school was uneventful. Silent, but not awkward.

Riki didn't try to hold your hand. He didn't want to make you upset by acting like nothing was wrong, but when passing by a little shop he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside.

At the rate you two were going you would've been early to school, and he saw something in the window he knows you've been eyeing so why not.

He didn't say anything as he pulled you through the shop up to where the display was.

A large stand with matching phone charms.

It was a niche interest you had, and you had tons of them at home but the thing about these ones is that they're matching.

Two long chains, decorated with beads that had small charms on the end. One with black beads and a white star on the end, the other with white beads and a black star on the end.

Riki knew you had been looking at them for a while, thinking it was cute considering his favorite color is black and yours is white.

He found matching things cute, he found it even cuter when you'd get a tint of rose on your cheeks and try to hide your smile as you showed him a new piece of matching items you bought for the two of you.

He thought about this as he walked to the register, making his own cheeks turn a slight shade of pink as he looked at you. You weren't looking at him but it didn't go unnoticed.

Walking out of the store, chains in hand, without letting go of your wrist Riki asks for your phone and puts the charm on.

He does the same for his phone and then holds them up together in his hand to show them off.

You tried to act non-cholent but your dumb little smile made its way onto your face and made Riki smile even harder as he handed you your phone back, and you guys continued walking.

You hated your smile. You felt it was too... cheeky. Too wide, and it made your cheeks all big.

But Riki adored it. The way your eyes would light up and close a little every time something made you happy, or how you'd cover your mouth if you felt you were smiling too much, just for him to pull your hand down and hold it in his. He loved your smile, he always looked for it everywhere he was, he especially loved it when it was he who was the one causing it.

He knew he couldn't always be the reason you were smiling but as long as you were happy it didn't matter to him.

He kept on glancing at you just to see you smiling and looking at the phone charm, you saw him doing it but didn't say anything. You thought it was cute how cheesy he acted when he thought no one was looking.

-

The rest of the school day was normal for the most part; the assigned seats of each class were fumbling with Riki's plans to be by your side all day, which he knew would happen.

Tables in your class were set in pairs of two, you were at the front of the class seated with a girl you barely knew and Riki was a few seats behind.

As break time started, Riki used his height to his advantage and threw a piece of paper above the guy in front of him and it landed perfectly on your desk. You looked back to see who it was, despite already knowing. You gave him a small smile which made him melt, and as you opened it you saw two stick figures holding hands in a flower field.

It was cheesy, yeah but it was cute. Cuter coming from Riki as he wasn't one for cutesy things.

He would write cute little notes and letters to stick in your locker but that was rare, so this act made you blush so bad you had to hide your face slightly.

You went to draw a cute photo back but before you could even get your pen out Akio spotted you and caught your attention.

Riki tried to ignore it, he didn't like the guy yeah but he also knew he was your first friend besides himself so he wanted to attempt to become friends with him for your sake.

Looking at Akio you saw Riki come up behind him. They had never stood side by side so you never realized how much taller Riki was in comparison and it shocked Akio too as he let out a child-like yelp when he turned around and saw Riki behind him.

You could tell Akio put his guard up a little.

-

During Riki and your petty silent treatment towards each other, you talked to Akio about how you were dating Riki and that you still wanted to be his friend but there needed to be a bit of distance.

He took it really well which was lucky for you as you had a hard time confronting people.

-

Akio backed up a little from Riki who was giving him a slightly annoyed-confused look, and bumped into your desk.

He wasn't scared of Riki per se, but Riki was intimidating. Tall, broad, cold stare, etc.

But in the moment of silence, Riki begrudgingly introduced himself.

Akio stood up a bit and introduced himself back, voice kinda shaky which made Riki chuckle. Akio, who has proved himself to make friends easily, quickly got comfortable with Riki and started talking about anything and everything.

As the conversation went on, Riki took the seat next to you as the girl had left a bit ago.

Riki grabbed your hand under the table, another thing he didn't often do as PDA wasn't something he enjoyed.

Eventually, the break was over, and it was time for the next class.

Akio said his goodbyes and ran off, Riki on the other hand wanted to walk you to your next class.

Walking to class, Riki had yet to let go of your hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth here and there.

And luckily the class was on the other side of the building which left you guys some time to talk, or more specifically some time for him to apologize.

He looked over at you almost nervously and squeezed your hand the tiniest bit before starting.

"I didn't mean it." He wasn't the greatest at starting apologies or apologizing in general, and although you were pretty sure you knew what he was talking about, you still asked. "Didn't mean what?"

He took a sharp breath in "When I said you were stupid and pathetic, just overall being a jerk..." he paused and looked at you before continuing.

"But that's not even all, I haven't been making any time for you, I was petty and ignored you, I got overly jealous and possessive, and I have just been a huge asshole." You were so focused on him apologizing that you hadn't even realized you guys weren't in the school building anymore, you were outside behind the school, in the small garden the school had created not too long ago.

"What are we doing out here?" You looked at him with confusion "I wanted to talk with you more privately."

"We're gonna get in trouble for skipping class, Ki."

"Don't worry about it, okay? I'll take all the blame." You looked at him, debating if you should stay out here or convince him to talk later but his eyes were almost pleading for you to stay out there, and so you listened. "Fine," you said with a slight smile.

He took a second to collect his thoughts and how he was going to go about this but eventually, he got it and started.

"I'm sorry I've left you alone so long. And I'm truly so sorry that I never made time for you, a busy schedule isn't an excuse to be distant, and I need to learn that."

"Rik-" You tried to cut him off and say it wasn't his fault but he didn't let you. "Wait just, wait okay." You shut up

"I care about you so much, you're truly the only one for me, and you mean the world to me. What I said during our fight was so fucked up, and I need you to know I didn't mean any of it. I want to be around you all the time, but I know I can't, and I'm glad you found someone you can be with when I'm not around.

I want you to know that I want to make all of this up to you. All the lost time, the phone calls I missed, the dates, just hanging out together, I want to make up for all of it. And I will, I promise.

I love you. A lot, and I'm gonna prove it this time. I'm going to be the best boyfriend you can ask for and I'm going to be your best friend again. Okay? I'm going to spend as much time as I possibly can with you. I love you so much. You don't have to forgive me now but I-"

"Riki." You successfully cut him off this time as he was starting to run out of breath and his cheeks were all pink.

He looks at you like a scolded puppy, catching his breath a little, Pure word vomit he thought.

"I love you too, so much. And I promise I'm not mad. It hurt never seeing you, yeah, and we definitely have distanced, ourselves as both a couple and friend but it's not your fault. You're busy and I understand okay?" He gave you an apologetic small smile before bringing you into a hug

It was warm and loving, just as all of Riki's hugs were.

He put his head into the crook of your neck, "I missed this so much" He mumbled, squeezing his arms around you tighter. "I'll do better. I promise." You smiled and softly caressed his hair. "I love you Ki."

"I love you too baby. So much."

-

Later throughout the day Riki walked you to every class, smiled at you whenever your eyes met, and was friendly with Akio whenever he came around.

After school, he came to your house and you guys just laid with each other. Something you hadn't done in ages, and although you knew he wouldn't be able to do this every day, you were just happy he was trying to make more time for you, and he was just happy to have his girlfriend back.

@ featki

Note: Sorry if the ending is bad or rushed, iv been working on this for like 2-3 weeks now and just wanted it out. But this is definitely my longest fic and I hope u guys like it :)) also I think I made Akio seem like a bigger character than he actually was... srry

[baewritez]

Just A Little Touch Up (0)

( Aaron Pierre X Plus Size OC )

Summary : The black and white life of a makeup artist is given color by A-List Client

Tags : Work Place Romance , Age Gap , Plus Size OC , BDSM , 18 +

 How does one find themselves bent over a kitchen counter with their hands tied behind their back? Better yet how does one find themselves pent under one of the most beautiful men to grace my eyes?! But that is it; that is what holds the answer. If you were to ask how I ended up in this position, I would say it was an exchange of looks, eyes full of desires, wants, needs so pure like honey that you could almost taste its sweetness. His eyes, like crashing waves held me captive fixed in place while a smirk started to spread on his face. I want to be the next thing spread across those juicy pump lips, as if thunder rolled out his lips so confidently, he said “So do you know how long we are in hair and makeup for?” his voice piercing the darkest part of my desires leaving with a newfound longing.  

Strumming over my words “t-t-t-two hours I think” warm air filled the trailer blowing past him as he walked up the stairs closing the door as he stepped in. His cologne of warm nutmeg and patchouli oil filled the air as I fought the urge to take a deep breath. “Thanks, my assistant and manager won’t be on set til 9:00am so it’s just me and you.” Looking up at him I felt like a dwarf, and he was a skyscraper as he moved closer towards me. “Um that is okay I think I can be finished with your makeup before then. You can sit here.” I gestured with my hand to the black makeup chair in front of me. He held out his large hand towards me. “I am Aaron” I looked at the veins near his knuckles; my mouth started to water as I tried to swallow my thirst down. The image of his big hands grabbing my curly puff and pulling flashed in my mind. SLAPPING my hand down I took a step a back and smiled. My heartbeat was like an alarm in my ear at just the idea of being close to him set it into a frenzy. “Would you like a water or coffee?”  His hand slowly went back down to his side as confusion blossomed on his face, but he gently brushed off the interaction and exchange. As he started to get settled into the seat his bulky frame filled the space around me as I instinctively grabbed the counter behind me. A look of concern washed over his face as his handsome facial features scrunched up. Holding up both of his hands the white shirt and black leather jacket raised up to show his chiseled deep v leading to what I could only think was euphoria “I don’t bite, Love” his husky voice breaking the awkward silence. But all I wanted was for him to leave bite marks and hickeys where no one could see and even in places where they could be seen. I wanted him to show the world that I was his; but that was a fantasy. “So, water, right?” My voice trembled, as I started to break my gaze from his charcoal jeans as it now covered the valley of ecstasy. Slowly tracing up past his white v neck t-shirt into his hazelnut brown and storm cloud eyes taking in his clear and blemish free skin. “Water is perfect, Love.” he replies. Aaron moves his arm to rest of the side arm of the chair and he places his hand on chin and rests it on his full amber beard. Taking a deep breathe I turned to face the counter and mirror; I bent down opening the mini fridge to grab a cool bottle of water as a shiver ran down my spine. Coming up from the fridge I am stopped in my tracks as I glance into the mirror only to be frozen in time as Aaron’s eyes created a fire in his wake. I am the match, and he was setting me ablaze his eyes moving from legs to my ass gliding up like a feather. My palms start to form sweat beads became clammy. It’s as if I was rubbed up against a balloon the hair on my neck and arm stands small shocks pulse throughout my body. The sound of our heavy breathing and the humming of the ac unit filled my ears. He was my Hades making me his Persephone as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth. My mouth is left open the idea of his thick finger filling that emptiness sends another shiver down my spine and my body goes relax. The thud of the bottle snaps both of us out of drunken stupor.

** A/N : I hope i didn't keep you waiting too long. If you like the preview let me know. Welcome to BaeWritez where desire can be fulfilled. - XOXO BAE

[forcemeanakin]

Right where you left me.

•WARNINGS: Angst. Situationship. May trigger people with abandonment issues or that have intimacy problems. Not technically cheating, but it may be triggering. Anakin's a douche bag.

Pairing: au!Anakin Skywalker x you!reader.

Summary: Anakin decides to pursue things outside of your relationship, breaking your heart in the process.

Word count: 1.7k.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao.

☽⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✳⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✺⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✳⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯☾

You ran into the coffee shop, in a hurry, which is a normal state for you and your continuous tardiness. “Fuck.” You muttered under your breath as you forced the door open with unnecessary strength. 

Anakin must’ve been waiting for half an hour now. 

On your tippy toes, you scanned the room, looking for the golden curls to stand out from a booth. 

Bingo. 

Trying to hide your excitement, you rushed to the table where your -relatively- new thing was waiting for you. You cursed your bag for making so much noise and told yourself off for packing so much shit. Maybe there was no need to bring all the stuff with you, but you couldn’t help yourself in your excitement to show Anakin all of the activities you had planned for you two and the remaining part of the summer. 

“Hey.” You whispered loud enough for him to listen to you, but your shortness of breath didn’t go unnoticed by him. He gave you a toothless smile as you sat down in front of him. “I’m sorry I’m late, I was at work and my manager-” You didn’t finish the sentence, instead, your face let him know everything he needed.

“Don’t sweat. I haven’t waited long. Five minutes to be exact.” He checked his phone carelessly. 

Oh. 

“Training ran long?” You hoped.

“Oh, no, just ran a little late.” He shrugged his shoulders. Like it was of no importance. 

At least you felt ashamed for being late. He didn’t seem to carry the same guilt.

Sometimes Anakin did this thing that stung your heart a little. His number one priority had always been him. And when you agreed to try things with him, you knew that was implied in the contract. Part of you had been hoping that you were going to be the reason that changed. 

So far, you had failed in your mission. 

“Oh, right.” You tried to fake a smile. 

“And how’s life outside of work, baby?” 

And just like that, your heart felt a little lighter and spark returned to your face. Especially when he reached out to hold your hand and play with your fingers. Especially when he used that nickname that you loved and you hadn’t heard in a while from his lips.

“It’s fine. My summer classes are always boring.” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the end because he knew how much you hated to take extra courses. 

“I told you to give yourself some time off in the summer.” He raised his eyebrow.

“I know, I know…” You huffed. “Actually, I’ve been working on that.” You smiled, turning to your bag and taking some of the things you packed. 

Tickets for one of your favorite movies, that he insisted he wanted to watch with you. It made you smile so hard when he had proposed that plan, given that he was aware how much that franchise meant to you. 

You also took out some coins for the local fair, the one you two had walked by and promised to do that as your next date. 

The brand new control for your gaming console you had just bought to join him in video games because he said he wanted to share that without you. He seemed pretty excited to do that as an activity together and he even listed all of the games you might like. 

And right when you were about to take the keys of your summer house out, to hint him that you were ready to take the next step in your relationship, he stopped you. 

Anything intimate always made you nervous, even when you two were in the middle of it. It was a very vulnerable space for you and Anakin was your first in many things. It was normal for you to still be adapting to it. 

But you wanted to try. For you.

For him.

As a more experienced person than you, Anakin had needs. Needs that you sometimes failed to meet. That even though he was patient, you could feel how your lack of confidence sometimes bugged him. Not in an explicit manner, just… the occasional huff when he tried something experimental in bed or when you started to psych yourself out of the make out session. 

Any other person would have already left, but Anakin was your friend first and he was well aware of your uptight personality way before the two of you agreed to be friends with benefits. He knew what he was getting into and he was actually glad to help you experiment with that part of yourself you normally hid.

So your demonstration of being an organized and planning psycho was nothing new to him.

“Hey, hey…” He slowed you down, barely gazing the things on the table and fixing his eyes on yours. “Before you get started, I wanted to talk to you.”

His serious tone alerted you. But you weren’t surprised. Something inside of you had been alerting you all weekend. You thought it was your well-known anxiety. However, this felt unusual. Like his habitual ghosting and lack of response for the past few days meant different things this time.

“Sure.” You took a deep breath, trying to make it not so obvious. “Go ahead.” You nodded with a little smile trying to appear serene. 

“So, sorry for not replying to your texts this weekend. I was out in nature, thinking and connecting, you know?” He tilted his head, his eyes looking for some compassion out of you.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You rushed the words when the silence dipped between you two, part of it your fault because you were too worried with your sinking heart. 

You could understand a little impromptu retreat, you only wished it wasn’t right after you did some pretty intimate stuff back at your house. That last day you two crossed more boundaries than ever before. And even though you highly enjoyed it, his absence after that had you feeling nauseous, making you overthink and regret your decision of not giving him your virginity right in that opportunity. Maybe he would have shown more interest if you would have-

“So…Uhm… I think we should stop hanging out.” 

Your heart was down by your feet when he pronounced those words. You tried with all your soul to control your trembling hands that lied in between his palms so he didn’t notice how he was ripping you apart. Your irregular breath threatened to put you on blast but you managed to keep it on the low. 

“It’s not about you, seriously. I love hanging out with you and spending time with you, among other stuff.” He chuckled lightly, but instead of following his action, you released the breath you were holding. “But I’ve been talking to this girl and I just want to make sure that everything is working out with her. Emotionally.”

The sting in your eyes only grew bigger as you realized how embarrassing and heart shattering this moment was for you. Your cheeks felt hot and tight, something you tried hard to disguise with a breezy exterior. 

Like a flash, you remembered the day both of you talked about the rules of your agreement. You kicked yourself mentally when you reminisced of the moment where both of you agreed to let the other one know if they wanted to pursue something with someone else. You had said yes, in the expectation that his constant checking in on you and daily talks was enough proof of interest. Meaning that he would not be looking outside of your “situationship” .

And you agreed, because that was your case. You were interested enough. 

“You let me know if you want to see another guy, okay?”

You could almost laugh at such stupid idea. Didn’t he know?

“I think it’s better if we stop talking, so I can figure out things with her.” He scrunched his nose, like he was running out of words.

But how many words do you actually need to let someone know you don’t want them? He didn’t need much more. You’ve gotten the message. 

“It’s nothing definitive, but yeah… Let me know if you have any questions.” He gave you a side smile, still fidgeting with your frozen-in-place fingers. 

That took you out of the slow motion trance you were in. 

“Y-yeah, okay.” You took your hands out of his quickly, blinking quickly into realization. You started to rush everything back in your purse, screaming the word “Stupid!” over and over again in your head while you carried on with a calm expression. “Do not worry about me. No questions on my part. Thanks for letting me know.”

I guess.

“Totally agree with not talking anymore.” You finally stopped for a second after pushing all of the items on your tote bag. He seemed to be analyzing your expression in search of any sign of real approval, because your shy and cold body language wasn’t reassuring him. So you put on your bravest face and forced a smile. “I hope everything turns out great with her.” 

Speaking those words felt like hot iron was passing through your throat. 

He gave you an honest smile and got up, taking his jacket with him. “Thank you. And thanks for understanding.”

You stayed frozen in place, your purse on your lap with your hands clutching it so hard you could feel your nails through the fabric. You limited yourself to nodding quietly and letting the side of your mouth curve slightly up. 

“I’m sorry I can’t stay-” He began explaining his sudden escape. 

“Don’t be. Don’t worry about me. ” You dismissed. “I’ll just stay and have lunch.” You took the menu and fixed your gaze on the listed items, anything that wouldn’t be his eyes. 

He excused himself off the table politely, leaving you all alone and speechless. You glued your eyes to his back until he exited through the door, begging silently that he would turn around and say something else. Something that would pull you back into his life.

It seemed like that wasn’t his plan.

“I know I shouldn’t look for you for sexual stuff, but can I contact you for friend stuff?”

The text arrived that Saturday at 1am, 5 days later, erasing any progress you had done. 

The day of his usual drunken nights. 

Right around the time he used to get bored and there wasn't anything left to smoke. 

Exactly at the time he would always contact you. 

And you?

You were still at the restaurant. Unable to move.

Every day since that day. 

Right where he left you. 

[chiffxna]

A Love Too Dark (08)

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Chapter 08: Wrapped Around

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

Story Masterlist

PREV : Chapter 07

NEXT : Chapter 09

Chapter Summary:

After everything he’s forced on you, don’t you deserve something back?

“Now,” he continued, his eyes locking onto hers, the command in them unmistakable, “get under the table.”

Yn stared at him, wide-eyed with shock and disbelief. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest at his audacious demand. She breathed out incredulously, “What?”

“Get under my desk,” Marquis repeated coldly yet slowly – emphasizing each word so there would be no mistake about what he expected from Yn.

A shiver ran down Yn's spine as it dawned on her what he wanted her to do next. She was terrified. Humiliation began to course through her figure as she contemplated disobeying such an order. She did not want this. She was disgusted by the thought of it.

But reality soon set in as imagination of what could happen if she refused flooded in her mind. Yn felt trapped, caught between two impossible choices. Obey and debase herself, or refuse and face his wrath. She stood frozen, unable to move, as she held a bated breath.

Marquis's gaze bore into her, hard and unrelenting. He growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Now, ma douce. I won't ask again.”

The words ma douce were foreign to her, but the way he said them sent a shiver down her spine. Even if they meant something sweet or romantic in French, his tone carried a sense of danger and caution. Like a predator whispering sweet nothings before pouncing on its prey.

Yn’s legs trembled as she slowly lowered herself to the ground, her eyes evading Marquis’ penetrating gaze. The plush carpet felt rough against her knees as she crawled forward, each movement a surrender of her dignity.

Under the desk she went, enveloped by the dark mahogany wood – a cage of his power and control. She huddled there, making herself as small as possible, praying to disappear.

Her gaze followed the Marquis as he strode towards his chair, his long legs flexing with each step. As he settled into the seat, he spread his legs wide, positioning himself directly in front of her. The chair scraped against the floor as he slid it closer, obscuring his legs under the desk and trapping her in between them. She instinctively tried to avoid any physical contact with him, feeling a sense of discomfort and unease at his close proximity.

He peered down at her, taking in the space beneath the desk where she was sitting. She must have felt his gaze because she looked up at him with big, innocent eyes. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face before he said in his usual thick French accent, “Good girl. You will be rewarded for your obedience.”

She whimpered. “Can I get up, please?”

“Not yet, ma lapine,” he replied as he caressed the top of her head affectionately. “You will stay here until I say so.”

Out of the blue, the hand that had been gently stroking her hair now grasped the back of her head and yanked her towards his lap. Yn stiffened as Marquis pulled her closer to him, her body automatically tensing up at the thought of what would happen next. His hand on the back of her head kept her in place, keeping her face close to his crotch. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, smell the musky scent of his arousal. Panic began to rise in her chest as she realised what he wanted her to do.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, silently begging for mercy. The Marquis met her gaze, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he savoured her helplessness. Her pleading eyes only served to inflame his desire further. He chuckled darkly, his fingers tangling in her silky hair.

“You look so pretty on your knees for me,” he purred, his voice dripping with mock affection. “Such an obedient little rabbit.”

His other hand moved to his belt, slowly undoing the buckle. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet room, each click of the belt ratcheting up Yn's dread.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “It's time for your reward.”

The Marquis’ hand grasped the front of his trousers, pulling them down and revealing his erect member. It stood tall and proud, heavy with desire as glistening droplets of pre-cum adorned its tip. The veins along its length pulsated with arousal, and the heat radiating from it was almost palpable. He pressed it against Yn's soft lips, smearing the sticky fluid across them.

“Suck,” he ordered, his voice a guttural growl. “Worship my cock like you love me.”

With a forceful thrust, he rammed his entire length past her parted lips and into the hot, slick cave of her mouth. Yn choked and gagged, feeling him hit the back of her throat and tears springing to her eyes from the force. But he showed no mercy, gripping her hair tighter and shoving deeper, his desire for control overpowering any concern for her comfort.

“That's it,” he groaned, his hips rocking slightly as he forced her head to bob up and down his length. “Take it all like the obedient little rabbit you are.”

The Marquis's face contorted with desire and dominance, his hand roughly gripping Yn's hair as he forced her head to move up and down on his erect member. Her tears flowed down her cheeks, creating wet trails on her flushed skin. The Marquis's cock stood tall and proud, the veins pulsating with every thrust into Yn's mouth. Her muffled sobs added to the soundtrack of his pleasure as he revelled in his control and dominance over her. The room was filled with the sounds of her choking and gagging, mixed with his guttural groans of satisfaction.

Abruptly, a succession of knocks resounded against the door. Yn's eyes widened in fear as she realised she was completely exposed to this humiliating position. She desperately looked to the Marquis, hoping for some form of mercy. The Marquis, however, merely chuckled at her terrified expression.

“Ah, it seems we have company,” he drawled, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards into a smug smile. “Don't stop, sweetheart.”

He then glanced to the door and spoke out loud, “Enter.”

Yn's body tensed as she prepared to push herself out from under the desk, but the Marquis leaned forward in his chair, pushing her further beneath the desk and shoving his cock deeper down her throat. Now she was completely hidden under his office table, shielded by the Marquis' body and chair.

The door swung open suddenly, startling Yn, who was currently occupied with the Marquis' member in her mouth. She froze, trying not to make any noise that would give away her position, afraid of being caught by whoever had entered.

“I did it, beau.”

Yn's eyes grew wider as she recognised the voice. It’s Sabrina, a fellow bunny-girl who fancied the Marquis.

With a commanding grip, the Marquis placed his hand on Yn's head and guided her up and down. The weight of his palm pressed against her scalp, silently urging her to start pleasuring him with her mouth. A mix of fear and submission furrowed her eyebrows as she looked up at him before finally giving in and complying with his demands. Her lips formed a tight seal around him as she began to suck, feeling the heavy weight of power pushing down on her.

“So, did you get anything out of him?” the Marquis asked Sabrina.

“None, just his cum,” replied Sabrina with an arrogant tone. “He just kept mentioning his wife’s name. Probably guilty that he cheated on her.”

Yn's face turned to a frown as she contemplated how Mr. Gabriel must have been feeling. She knew he loved his late wife dearly, but Sabrina had somehow convinced him to become intimate with her. It was likely that Sabrina had manipulated the situation, taking advantage of a massage to turn it into something more, just as the Marquis had instructed her to do with Mr. Gabriel.

The Marquis asked, “Did you try asking him about anything?”

His hand rested on Yn’s head, his fingers tangling in her locks as he guided her movements. Every so often, his fingers would tighten in her hair, silently urging her to move faster or deeper. Yn's face showed a mix of submission and discomfort as she complied with his commands, her lips forming a tight seal around him as she sucked. His other hand rested on the table, his grip tightening on the edge as he leaned back in his chair, enjoying the pleasure Yn was providing him.

“I did, but he said he didn’t know a single thing,” answered Sabrina.

Yn's face was focused, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked and her tongue flicking against him in all the right places. Her hands were placed on his thighs, supporting herself as she took him deeper.

The Marquis leaned his head back as he quietly harrumphed, “Hm…”

Yn tensed as she heard footsteps approaching the table. She hadn't anticipated Sabrina being so bold as to move closer to the Marquis. Yn desperately hoped that Sabrina wouldn't circle around the table and discover her servicing the Frenchman's member. Suddenly, a noise came from the desk nearby, startling Yn.

“Marquis,” Sabrina’s voice had turned seductive. “Is there anything else I can help you with? Anything?”

Yn slowed her bobbing motion on the cock and looked up at the Marquis, who was intently watching Sabrina with a raised eyebrow.

The Marquis replied, “No. You are dismissed.”

There was a moment of stillness as if Sabrina froze, astounded that she had been rejected. Then the sound of feet walking away echoed through the office, heading towards the door. Yn heard Sabrina's voice break the silence, saying, “If you ever need any help, sir, please don't hesitate to come to me. I can make sure you have an enjoyable, all-night experience.”

As the door clicked shut behind them, the room fell silent. Yn's pace in sucking the cock slowly increased as she realised there was still work to be done.

Suddenly, without warning, the Marquis slid back in his chair and stood abruptly, his cock slipping from her abused mouth. Yn gasped for air, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

But her respite was short-lived. The Marquis stepped forward, looming over her kneeling form. With brutal efficiency, he shoved his cock back into her mouth, not stopping until he felt the head lodged in her throat.

Yn's eyes were wide with fear, and her mouth was forced open, stretched around the Marquis's thick cock. Her tears mixed with the saliva and pre-cum that dripped down her chin, her face twisted in discomfort and distress. The Marquis’ hand was still tangled in her hair, controlling her movements as he roughly thrust into her mouth. The muscles in her neck strained as she struggled to accommodate his forceful thrusts, her gags turning into wet choking sounds. The sound of their harsh breathing filled the room, along with the wet slapping noises of his cock penetrating her mouth.

“Take it,” he snarled, his hips slapping against her face with each brutal thrust. “Take every inch, ma lapine.”

The Marquis’ hips moved with a frenzied rhythm, each thrust pushing his thick cock into Yn's mouth. His hands were tightly tangled in her hair, pulling her head towards him with each thrust. Yn's mouth was stretched wide open, her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock. The muscles in her throat bulged as she struggled to accommodate his forceful penetration. Her tears mixed with the drool and pre-cum that dripped down her chin, and the wet sounds of his balls slapping against her chin echoed in the room. Yn's eyes were wide with fear and pain, but she couldn't resist him as he continued to ravage her throat.

The room was filled with the wet smacking of flesh against flesh, the sound of his hips slapping against her face with each forceful thrust. The Marquis himself let out guttural grunts as he pushed deeper and deeper into her throat, his grip on her hair causing yelps of pain to intermingle with the sounds of their coupling. Yn's choked gasps and gags added to the cacophony, creating a symphony of rough and violent noises. Tears streamed down Yn's face as she tried to take in every inch he offered, her strangled cries muffled by his thick cock shoved deep into her mouth. The repeated slapping of his balls against her chin echoed through the room, a constant reminder of her helplessness and submission to the Marquis' brutal desires. And yet, despite the pain and fear in her eyes, she couldn't fight him off as he continued to ravage her throat mercilessly.

The mixture of saliva and pre-cum glistened in the dim light, dripping down her chin in thick strands and landing on the carpet below with a wet splat. The pool of bodily fluids grew larger with each thrust, staining the once pristine carpet with their mingled essence.

“I'm close,” the Marquis grunted, his hips pistoning faster. “Swallow it all.”

Yn's eyes widened in panic, her hands scrabbling at his thighs. She tried to pull away, desperate for air, but his grip on her hair was unyielding. She had no choice but to submit to his brutal face-fucking, tears streaming down her face as she choked and gagged.

The Marquis’ face contorted in pleasure as he forcefully thrust himself into Yn's mouth, his hips slamming forward and pulling back with a rhythmic motion. Yn's mouth was stretched wide open as the Marquis forced himself in, his own face contorted in ecstasy. His hand gripped her hair tightly, pulling her head closer to him. Yn's eyes were wide with fear and pain, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to take in the fullness of him. The Marquis’ cock was pulsing and throbbing, its veins protruding against Yn's lips and tongue. The cum shot out forcefully, filling her mouth and overflowing as she tried to swallow it all. Yn gagged and choked on the bitter taste.

“That's it, ma lapine,” the Marquis groaned, his hips jerking with each spurt of cum. “Drink every drop.”

Yn gagged and choked as the Marquis's cum flooded her mouth, the bitter taste overwhelming her senses. Thick, viscous ropes of semen coated her tongue and throat, making it difficult for her to swallow. She tried to pull away, desperate for air, but his grip on her hair was unyielding.

"Drink it all," the Marquis growled, his hips jerking with each spurt of cum. "Every last drop."

Yn had no choice but to obey, her throat working overtime as she tried to swallow the copious amount of semen. Some of it dribbled out the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin and onto her heaving chest. The salty, musky taste made her stomach churn, bile rising in her throat.

The Marquis held Yn's head in place, his cock lodged deep in her throat, as he savoured the sensation of her swallowing around him. Each contraction of her throat muscles sent jolts of pleasure through his body, drawing out his climax. He groaned in ecstasy, his hips jerking with each spurt of cum down her throat.

Yn gagged and choked, her eyes watering as she struggled to breathe around his girth. The bitter taste of his semen coated her tongue, making her want to retch. But she had no choice but to swallow, her throat working overtime to comply with his demands.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Marquis's orgasm subsided. He pulled his softening cock from Yn's abused mouth, a string of saliva and cum connecting them for a brief moment before breaking. Yn gasped for air, coughing and sputtering as she tried to clear her throat of the vile fluid.

“Good girl,” the Marquis purred, taking a few tissues from his desk to wipe his cock clean. “You swallowed every drop like I wanted you to.”

The Marquis carefully wiped his softening cock with a tissue, his movements slow and calculated. Yn remained on her knees, her face a mess of tears, saliva, and semen. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks flushed and damp. The thick white substance clung to her lips and dribbled down her chin, mixing with the tears on her face. She was still in shock from the ordeal, her body trembling as she tried to compose herself.

The Frenchman wiped his softening member clean with the tissues and reached for a few more. With a gentleness that seemed at odds with his previous brutality, he began to wipe the mess from Yn's face. He brushed away the tears, the streaks of mascara, the saliva and cum that clung to her skin.

As he cleaned her, the Marquis gazed down at Yn with adoration, almost tenderness. His look said he was pleased with her, satisfied with her performance, that she had pleased him and served her purpose.

Yn remained kneeling, her head bowed, as the Marquis tended to her. She didn't resist his ministrations, too exhausted and traumatised to do anything but comply. Her throat ached, her jaw throbbed, and the taste of his cum lingered in her mouth, a bitter reminder of what had just transpired.

When the Marquis finished, he tossed the soiled tissues aside and reached out to tilt Yn's chin up with his finger. She met his gaze, her eyes wide and haunted. There was no joy in them, no hint of pleasure or satisfaction. Only fear, pain, and a deep, simmering anger that she didn't dare express.

“As a reward, you may go home early,” the Marquis told her, his voice soft and almost gentle. He reached out, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Or if you want, you can stay. But remember, you are forbidden to service any men. Understood?”

Yn nodded meekly; her head bowed in defeat. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, her eyes still haunted by the trauma she had just endured. Her throat ached with every swallow, a constant reminder of the violation she had suffered.

“So?” the Marquis asked, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. His thick French accent was unmistakable. “What will it be? Will you stay, or will you go home?”

“I want to go home,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and broken.

The Marquis smiled adoringly. “Very well.”

He stood up and reached out his hand towards her. She looked at it with a puzzled expression until she realised he was offering it to her. Like a gentleman. As if he had not roughly fucked her throat like a fleshlight.

Yn reached out and grasped the Marquis's proffered hand. He pulled her to her feet with surprising gentleness, his grip firm yet careful. She wobbled slightly on unsteady legs, her knees still bearing the marks of the hard floor.

To her shock, the Marquis then took a few tissues and bent down before her. With tender motions, he brushed away the dust and grime from her knees and legs, his touch feather-light against her skin. Yn stood frozen, unsure how to react to this unexpected kindness after the brutal assault on her body and dignity.

When he finished, the Marquis rose and looked at her with those piercing eyes. He simply tossed the used tissues aside and spoke to her, “Now, go home. Or would you like one of my bodyguards to bring you home safely?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you, sir.”

A smile spread across the Marquis' face as he placed both hands on her jaw, gently holding her in place. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before pulling back to admire her once more with a pleased smile. He nodded in contentment and said, “Take care, ma lapine. Send me a message once you get home safe.”

Before Yn could comprehend what was happening, she found herself sitting on the bus, headed back to her run-down apartment. The usual commotion of her coworkers chatting and laughing surrounded her, but today, no one seemed to acknowledge her exhausted appearance. Everyone was too preoccupied with their own responsibilities in the casino and their own personal issues.

She arrived at her apartment, numb and exhausted. Barbara, her cousin who had been watching Sydney, greeted her with a concerned frown. “Yn, are you alright? You look tired.”

Yn forced a smile, not wanting to burden Barbara with the truth. “I'm fine. Just tired. Thanks for taking care of Sydney, Bar.”

After seeing her cousin out of the apartment, Rosie, her cat, padded over and nuzzled against Yn’s legs, her soft fur brushing against her ankles. Yn bent down, scratching gently behind Rosie’s ears, trying to find some small comfort in the warmth of her purrs. Rosie was blissfully unaware of her owner’s turmoil, and Yn envied her for it.

Yn went through the motions of feeding her, though her mind was still elsewhere. She filled the cat’s bowl and made her way to Sydney’s room to check on her. The small figure of her sister was curled up under the covers, fast asleep, her breathing soft and even. Sydney’s hair splayed across her pillow, and her small face held a peacefulness that seemed to ease some of Yn’s own tension. For a moment, Yn stood there, simply watching, her heart aching with a fierce protectiveness.

Her fingers brushed a strand of hair from Sydney’s forehead, careful not to wake her. She whispered, “Sweet dreams, Syd.”

With Sydney safely asleep, Yn slipped back into her own room and prepared for bed. She changed into her nightclothes, the familiar fabric a small comfort after the tension of the day. She let out a long breath as she slid under the covers, hoping to find some rest finally.

But just as her head touched the pillow, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message. The text, short and disturbingly familiar, appeared from an unknown number, but it didn’t have to tell her who it was.

“Did you get home safe, ma lapine?”

Yn froze, her fingers trembling as she stared at the message. The Marquis. It was like he was still watching her, like his presence lingered over every part of her life. For a moment, she considered ignoring it, pretending she hadn’t seen it. But she knew better. Not answering him meant risking his anger, and she couldn’t afford that – not when her family’s safety depended on her compliance.

With a shaky breath, she forced her fingers to type out a response. “Yes, sir. Thank you for your concern.”

She set the phone down, her stomach twisting with unease. She hoped that would be enough to end it for the night. But seconds later, the phone chimed again. Another message, bold and clear across the screen.

“I will be busy tonight, so I can’t sleep over or take you to my mansion. But I expect to see you tomorrow night. Don’t disappoint me.”

The words sat heavily in her chest, the “expect” as binding as any chain. She put the phone down slowly, her appetite gone, and lay back on the pillow, her mind racing with the familiar dread.

As Yn thought back to the Marquis’s last message, an odd sense of relief flickered in her mind. At least tonight, he was occupied. It meant, however briefly, that she had a night to herself, a small pocket of time to think without his shadow looming over her. It was strange, but she realised that on these rare nights when he was busy elsewhere, she felt the smallest glimpse of hope. If he wasn’t watching her every move, maybe - just maybe – she could start laying the groundwork for a plan.

Something. Anything to free herself from his grasp.

Sitting up, Yn grabbed her phone, her fingers hovering uncertainly over the screen as she tried to steady her thoughts. Where could she even begin? The idea of fighting against him felt impossible; the Marquis’s power extended into every corner of her life. He seemed untouchable, someone with influence that couldn’t be shaken.

But perhaps that was just the image he presented. Maybe there were cracks, secrets—things he didn’t want the world to know. She swallowed hard, fingers beginning to type as she searched his name.

“Vincent Bisset de Gramont.”

To her frustration, there was barely any real information about Vincent Bisset de Gramont. The few articles she found only mentioned his philanthropic gestures – donations to select companies, mostly efforts to support the arts or “improve communities.” The profiles were sparse, the details vague. And any mention of his title, “Marquis,” was treated as little more than an exotic label, a lingering remnant of French nobility without any real bearing. Nothing, absolutely nothing, hinted at the man she knew—the one who controlled her life with invisible chains.

She scrolled through yet another article that praised his contributions, his “quiet charm” and “respectable reserve,” and Yn felt a wave of irritation bubbling up in her. It was a facade, all of it. But she couldn’t tear down the walls around his reputation with frustration alone.

She leaned back, letting her mind drift. Maybe he was so careful with his image because there was something to hide. The thought brought her a sliver of hope. Men like him always had something – everyone had a weakness. Maybe his was hidden in the connections he kept out of the public eye.

With a few deep breaths, she started a different approach, digging into forums, old message boards, and anywhere that didn’t depend on mainstream news. She scanned through threads buried in obscure forums, focusing on posts from those who hinted at elite circles, the kinds of people who might cross paths with someone like the Marquis.

Eventually, she stumbled across an old post that caught her eye. One user left a cryptic, subtle comment that immediately caught Yn's eye:

“The underground world is crumbling. Thanks to Baba Yaga.”

Baba Yaga? Yn opened a new tab to search for what it meant. Boogeyman.

Yn sat still, her eyes widening in remembrance of Mr. Gabriel's words.

“There’s been a... shift. A big one. A high-ranking figure in the criminal world – one of the untouchables – was murdered. By a rogue. And everything started to fall apart. The whole network... it’s crumbling.”

She thought about it, letting the idea settle. Baba Yaga was behind the recent chaos in the syndicate. Sure, she didn’t have much to go on. But it was something. This mysterious figure – it wasn’t impossible they could be… well, good. A just and honourable person. Someone willing to stand up against the worst in this world, tearing down that dark empire from the inside.

After staring at the screen for a while, Yn felt a spark of something unfamiliar – a thin thread of hope. The “Baba Yaga” could be more than a mere myth or threat. Could this person truly be tearing apart the network of untouchable criminals? She sat back, processing the idea, her mind racing. Maybe this figure wasn't just another ghost in the criminal underworld. Maybe Baba Yaga was a vigilante. Or someone working in the shadows with the power to dismantle the syndicate piece by piece.

It was a far-off notion, but the thought refused to leave her. What if this shadowy figure could be... an ally?

She doubted herself almost immediately. After all, what did she really know about this Baba Yaga? He might have collapsed in the underworld, but he might also be a serial killer. He could possibly kill her. It felt foolish, even dangerous, to think that help could come from some unknown rogue in the criminal world.

Yn let out a heavy sigh, despair creeping in as she opened a new tab on her screen. This time, she wasn’t searching for information on the Marquis or the elusive Baba Yaga. Instead, her fingers typed in something else – a list of hotels in far-off cities, scattered across the country. She browsed through different locations, city by city, hotel by hotel. Maybe it was pointless, maybe even desperate, but if things got worse… if the Marquis grew even more possessive or dangerous… she needed a plan. A place to run, to hide. Somewhere she could take Sydney and her mother where they could be safe, even if just for a little while.

Aside from escape plans, Yn also found herself digging into something else: ways to hide her identity. She searched for anything that could help—how to alter her name, replace her information, even vanish from records altogether. Whatever it would take to keep the Marquis from tracking her down. The articles and forums she found were daunting, full of legal terms and methods that felt out of reach for someone with her limited resources.

Still, she skimmed through, taking mental notes, searching for anything that might actually be doable. Fake IDs. Disguises. She even looked into digital guides on changing up her online footprint. She needed to be careful; anything she left behind could be a breadcrumb, a hint leading back to her and, worse, back to Sydney.

After a while, it dawned on her just how hard it was to sift through all this information on her phone’s tiny screen. The small display made everything harder to read and harder to process. She needed a laptop – something bigger, faster, and more practical for her constant, quiet research. But she didn’t have one. And the thought of buying one was laughable, considering the little money she had tucked away.

Then, like a dark cloud, the Marquis’s face surfaced in her mind. Just ask him, a voice in her head suggested. Get him to buy you a laptop.

Immediately, she recoiled from the idea. No. She wouldn’t. She had fought him for so long, resisted every attempt he made to pull her closer, to buy her obedience or loyalty. Asking him for a favour now, especially something as costly as a laptop, felt wrong. It would feel like... giving in. Or worse, like using him for his money.

But as she argued with herself, another thought pushed forward, small but stubborn. After everything he’s forced on you - her mind whispered, don’t you deserve something back?

The next day, Yn found herself surprisingly free from any messages or interruptions from a certain Frenchman. She welcomed the silence, savouring each hour. It felt like she was living a slice of her old life, a day untouched by his looming shadow. She spent the morning caring for Sydney, chatting up her coworkers during her shift at the café, laughing a bit too loudly at Edric’s jokes, and letting herself relax. For once, she let herself breathe.

After work, she picked up Sydney and swung by the hospital to visit her mom, who seemed brighter that day, her face lighting up at the sight of them. It was one of those rare days Yn wanted to freeze in time, where everything felt almost… normal. But as they made their way back to the apartment, reality crept in again, reminding her of her other obligations.

The casino awaited her that evening like a haunting echo she could never escape. Yn got ready slowly, pulling herself back into that guarded version of herself, the one with calm smiles and cautious words. She made sure Sydney was settled, checking and rechecking that her cousin Barbara had everything she needed to care for the little girl. As she prepared to leave, Yn lingered at the door, pressing a gentle kiss to Sydney’s forehead before turning to Barbara with a grateful nod.

“Be safe,” Barbara called softly, concern laced in her voice. Yn forced a smile, offering her cousin a reassuring wave before stepping into the hallway.

Yn arrived at the casino and made her way to the dressing room, where the familiar scent of hairspray and powder filled the air. She went through the motions, slipping into her bunny-girl costume and sitting down in the mirror to start her makeup. Just as she was reaching for her eyeliner, her friend Emily sidled up beside her, a sly grin on her face.

“Hey,” Emily nudged her shoulder playfully. “So… what did you and the Marquis talk about last night? In his office.”

Yn’s hand stilled, her heart skipping a beat. She forced herself to keep her tone light, glancing at Emily in the mirror with a practised smile. “Oh, not much. Just some work stuff. The usual.”

Emily raised a brow, looking unconvinced. “Uh-huh. That’s all? You mean to tell me a man of royalty, a Marquis, who pulled you into his office last night, barely says a word to you outside of ‘work stuff’?”

She paused as she went to her make-up table beside her. “I thought he had dragged you into that room and made out with you. It was clear to everyone that he was jealous when he learned that you were with another VIP. He likes you that much.”

Yn shook her head incredulously. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t understand why he became angry when I was just trying to do my job.”

Emily rolled her eyes, clearly amused. “Yn, the man’s used to getting what he wants. And right now, that happens to be you. He’s probably not thrilled seeing you pay attention to anyone else, even if it’s just part of your work.”

“But he’s got his pick of women,” Yn replied, a note of frustration in her voice. “Women with power. Real status. People in his world. Not… someone like me.”

Emily leaned in closer and said with a low voice. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Sometimes people with all that power want the one thing they can’t have.”

Emily paused to give Yn a pointed look. “Maybe you’re the mystery he can’t solve.”

Yn fell silent, her gaze fixed on Emily as she pondered the possibility that the Marquis' possessiveness towards her was due to what Emily had just said.

With their makeup done, the bunny-girls filed out of the lounge and slipped into their roles on the casino floor, each one assuming their stations with the practiced ease of a long night ahead. Yn took her usual spot at the roulette table, pasting on a smile as she welcomed the first players of the night.

An hour into her shift, she spotted a group of men striding into the casino. Dressed in black suits and dark sunglasses, their expressions cold and unreadable, they moved with a purpose, cutting through the crowd. Every step seemed calculated as they made their way directly toward the Marquis’s office, where Chidi, the Marquis’s trusted bodyguard, was already waiting by the door.

The tension thickened as the men exchanged brief, hushed words with Chidi. Yn glanced over at Sophia, who was standing nearby, greeting patrons.

She leaned in, keeping her voice low. “Sophia, who are they?”

Sophia’s eyes followed Yn’s gaze, and a frown crossed her face. “I don’t know. But they look like trouble. But if they came here to meet with the Marquis, then I guess it’s normal. It’s his type of people.”

Yn instantly remembered that the Marquis probably had ties to the underworld of crime, so these men were probably from that kind of world too.

“It’s better not to ask, Yn,” Sophia whispered. “Better to just do your job and keep your head down.”

As Yn stood behind the roulette table, she watched as Chidi signalled for additional bodyguards to join him. He knocked on the door and swung it open, motioning for everyone to enter the Marquis' office, including the suspicious-looking men. They disappeared into the room, leaving Yn to ponder the topic of their conversation.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. Yn kept herself busy, calling out bets and spinning the roulette wheel, but her mind was elsewhere, lingering on that door and the people hidden behind it.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of suspense, the office door opened. Slowly. Too slowly. Yn’s heart was in her throat as she tried to act casual, pretending to be deeply interested in the game in front of her, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from drifting to the scene unfolding across the room.

The suspicious men came out first, still dressed in their sharp, dark suits, but there was a change in their demeanour. They were talking amongst themselves, quick, hushed words that Yn couldn’t make out, and their expressions were grim. Serious. Chidi followed them, murmuring something to one of the guards before stepping aside. And then, the Marquis appeared.

He was calm, almost eerily so. His suit was immaculate, not a hair out of place, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before. He looked around, scanning the room until his eyes landed on Yn. She felt a chill run down her spine. It was as if he could see right through her, right into the thoughts she was trying to suppress.

Out of nowhere, the Marquis raised his hand, a simple but unmistakable gesture, beckoning her to come to him. Yn's pulse quickened. For a moment, she froze, her feet glued to the spot, as if unsure whether to obey or pretend she hadn’t seen him. But there was no avoiding it. Not with those eyes on her. She took a breath, forcing a calm she didn’t feel, and quickly waved over another bunny-girl to cover her spot at the roulette table.

As she made her way across the floor, weaving through the crowd, her mind raced. What did he want? Why now, right after that meeting? She approached him slowly, trying to keep her steps steady, even though her heart was pounding.

“Yes, sir?” she said, her voice coming out softer than she intended.

The Marquis smiled. He stepped closer, and before she could react, he reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second too long. It was a simple gesture, almost intimate. The way his presence seemed to command her attention, her compliance.

“So good to see you,” he murmured, his tone smooth as if they were simply exchanging pleasantries. “I have a task for you. Come.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he turned on his heel and began walking toward the office, expecting her to follow without question. She hesitated for a split second, but then her feet moved, trailing after him.

The Marquis pushed the door open and stepped inside, holding it for her to follow. Yn’s breath hitched as she crossed the threshold, her eyes darting around the room. Not one thing was amiss. He closed the door behind them with a soft click. For a moment, neither of them spoke. He just stood there, studying her, as if trying to decide something. Yn shifted under his gaze, feeling small, exposed.

“Yn,” he said finally, his voice low, almost gentle. “I need you to do something for me tonight.”

“What is it, sir?” she asked softly.

“Sit down on the table.”

Puzzled, she glanced over at the massive mahogany table that dominated the room. It was littered with paperwork, a half-empty decanter of brandy, and a touch of dust in the corners. Surely, he didn't mean for her to sit on that?

She walked over to the table and gingerly hoisted herself up onto it, wincing as she upset a small stack of papers. The Marquis strode towards her in haste and said, “Wait.”

He wrapped one arm around her waist and swiftly cleared the table with his other hand to make sure she wouldn't sit on anything. As he moved closer to her, their faces almost touched. When he finished, he turned to face her with a smirk and asked in his thick French accent, “Are you comfortable?”

Yn could only avert her gaze to the side and nodded, “Mm-hmm.”

She was stuck perched on the edge of the mahogany table, her feet dangling above the ground. The Marquis stood before her; his hands went to rest firmly on the surface of the desk on either side of her hips. His face was close to hers, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at her. The room was dimly lit, casting intimate shadows across their faces. Yn couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as she realised she was trapped between his hands and the intimidatingly large desk behind her.

“If it’s just us two together in a room,” the Marquis said, raising one hand to remove the mask on Yn’s face, “you can remove your mask.”

Yn did not have to do anything as the Marquis himself took off her mask and tossed it behind him without a glance. Her entire face was now revealed to him and that made her feel somewhat bashful, suddenly aware of her vulnerability and shyness.

Out of nowhere, he gently placed his hand on her chin and lifted her face towards his. She was unable to resist as he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She stiffened, her eyes widening in surprise, and his warm breath, mixed with a hint of brandy, brushed against her skin.

His kiss was firm but gentle, demanding yet almost tender, a stark contrast to his usual cold, commanding demeanour. His thumb stroked her cheek idly as if to reassure her. It contrasted sharply with the intensity of their situation, and it took Yn a moment to comprehend what was happening.

As his kisses ran down her neck, she finally found it in herself to speak up, “Sir, you said… you have a task for me…?”

“Yes,” he answered breathily as he laid kisses around her neck. “Your task is to stay still.”

His lips made soft, featherlight noises as they travelled down her neck and along her collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses that sounded like tiny pops as they connected with her skin. Yn's breath hitched as she tried to hold back a soft sigh, her heart pounding in her ears in time with the gentle rhythm of his movements. She could also hear the slight rustle of his clothes as he leaned closer, his touch sending small shivers down her spine. It was a symphony of sensations, one that left Yn's mind in a blissful haze, to her surprise.

“I’m glad,” she heard the Marquis say. “You still wear the necklace I gave you. I assume you love it.”

His fingers trailed down her neck, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. Yn shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin despite the warmth of the room. She could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against her throat as he worked his way lower.

Lower and lower, until his lips brushed the swell of her breasts, peeking out from the low-cut bodice of her costume. Yn inhaled sharply, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. This was wrong, so wrong. She had never given him permission to touch her like this, to take such liberties with her body.

But she couldn't deny the way her heart raced, the way her skin tingled wherever he touched. It was a traitorous response, one that filled her with shame and confusion. How could her body betray her like this, responding to the attention of the man who forced himself on her again and again in the past? She wanted to hate him.

The Marquis’ hands slid around to her back, fingers splaying across her skin as he pulled her closer. Yn squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sensation of his touch, the scent of his cologne filling her nostrils.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, stop.”

But the Marquis ignored her, his mouth trailing lower, lower until his teeth grazed the sensitive skin just above the neckline of her costume. Yn gasped, her back arching involuntarily.

It was too much, too fast. She felt like she was drowning, suffocating under the weight of the Marquis’ attentions. Her mind screamed at her to fight, to push him away, but her body wanted to drown more in this pleasure.

Instead, she sat there, trembling and helpless, as the Marquis continued his relentless assault on her senses. Each brush of his lips, each nip of his teeth, sent sparks of unwanted pleasure coursing through her veins.

The Marquis grasped the neckline of her bunny-girl outfit and tugged it lower, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze. Before Yn could even think to protest, he had latched onto one rosy nipple, sucking it into his mouth with a ravenous intensity.

“Ah!” Yn cried out, her back arching at the sudden sensation. It was too much, too fast. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of unwanted pleasure, her body betraying her at every turn.

The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the table. The Marquis lavished attention on her breasts, his tongue swirling around each sensitive peak. He bit down gently, sending jolts of pain-tinged ecstasy shooting through her nerves. Yn's hands flew up to grip his shoulders, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

It was wrong, so wrong. But God help her, it felt good. Too good.

The slurping, suckling sounds of the Marquis' mouth and tongue exploring every inch of her exposed skin rang in Yn's ears, a mix of pleasure and discomfort. The occasional moan or grunt escaped his lips, accompanied by the sound of Yn's sharp intake of breath or a whimper. The bite on her nipples elicited a faint gasp followed by a sharp cry of surprise and pleasure.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the Marquis continued his relentless assault on her senses. She could feel herself growing wet, her body responding to his touch despite her mind's protests.

Shame burned through her veins, hot and acrid. How could she let this happen? How could she allow this man, this monster, to violate her in such a way?

The Marquis pulled away from Yn’s breasts, leaving them glistening with his saliva. His eyes, dark with lust, travelled down her body, lingering on the curve of her hips. With a wicked grin, he hooked his fingers into the panty-shaped bottom of the bunny-girl costume and tugged it aside, exposing her thin panties.

Yn’s breath caught in her throat as the cool air hit her heated skin. She squirmed on the table, trying in vain to maintain some modesty, but the Marquis simply laughed at her efforts. He hooked his fingers into the centre of her panties and pulled them aside, revealing her most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.

“No,” Yn whispered, shaking her head in denial. “Please, don't...”

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as the Marquis lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh. Yn gasped as his tongue made contact, a jolt of unwanted pleasure shooting through her core.

He licked and sucked at her folds, his fingers spreading her open wider. Yn's hands flew to his hair, torn between pushing him away and holding him in place. It was too much, too intense. She could feel herself growing wetter, her body responding to his touch despite her mind's protests.

The wet, lewd sounds of the Marquis's mouth eagerly feasting on Yn's most private area echoed throughout the room, mingling with her soft moans and whimpers of pleasure and discomfort. Each slurp and suck was like a symphony of forbidden desire, suffocating any rational thoughts or protests Yn tried to make. The sound was both arousing and repulsive, a twisted melody that consumed both of their senses. It was wrong, so wrong, but she was powerless to stop it.

Just as she teetered on the brink, the Marquis pulled away, leaving her desperate and wanting. He grinned up at her, his lips shiny with her essence.

“Not yet, ma lapine,” he purred, his French accent thick with desire. “We're just getting started.”

With that, he dove back between her legs, his tongue delving deep into her folds. Yn cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily as he lapped at her most sensitive spots. It was too much, too intense. She could feel herself teetering on the brink of release, only for the Marquis to pull away at the last second, leaving her desperate and wanting.

He repeated the process again and again, edging her to the point of madness. Yn's body was on fire, every nerve screaming for more. But still, she fought against it, clinging to the last vestiges of her sanity.

“Please,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face. “Please, stop. I can't take it anymore.”

But the Marquis just grinned, his lips and chin shiny with her essence. “Beg me, Yn. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to fill you.”

Yn shook her head frantically, even as her body betrayed her, aching for his touch. She sobbed, “No. No, I won't. I don’t want that.”

The Marquis's eyes narrowed, his grip on her thighs tightening. He growled, “You will. You will beg for it, and you will enjoy every second of it. Deep down, you know you want this. You finally want me.”

And with that, he surged forward, his tongue spearing into her core as his fingers rubbed mercilessly at her clit. The Marquis continued his relentless assault on Yn's senses, his tongue delving deep into her folds, his fingers rubbing mercilessly at her clit. Again and again, he brought her to the brink of release, only to pull away at the last second, leaving her crying.

Yn thrashed on the table, sobbing. “Please. Please, stop. I can't take it anymore.”

But the Marquis just grinned, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. He doubled his efforts, his tongue swirling around her sensitive bud, his fingers pumping in and out of her dripping core. Yn's back arched off the table, a moan tearing from her throat as another orgasm was nearing, but the Marquis withdrew again before she could explode.

It was too much, too intense. She was drowning in sensation, in the wrongness of it all. And yet, even as her mind recoiled, her body craved more. More of his touch, more of his attention, more of the forbidden pleasure he offered.

Yn whimpered, even as her hips bucked against his face, “Give it to me. Please!”

But the Marquis was relentless and adamant. He licked and sucked and fingered her until she was a writhing, sobbing mess. Her body was on fire, every nerve screaming for release.

That’s when she recalled what Emily told her a few hours ago.

“I thought he had dragged you into that room and made out with you. It was clear to everyone that he was jealous when he learned that you were with another VIP. He likes you that much.”

“He likes you that much.”

Does he?

“Fine!” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “Please, fuck me. Fill me. I need it. I need you.”

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, a betrayal of everything she stood for. But in that moment, lost in a haze of unwanted pleasure, Yn knew she would do anything, say anything, just to make it stop. To find some measure of relief from the torment of the Marquis' touch.

The Marquis's triumphant laughter echoed in the room as he loomed over Yn's trembling form. With a wicked grin, he crashed his lips against hers, his tongue forcing its way past her teeth and into the warm recesses of her mouth. To his surprise, Yn responded eagerly, her own tongue tangling with his in a heated dance.

The Marquis growled into the kiss, his hands fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He needed to be inside her, to claim her, to make her his. With a swift tug, he freed his throbbing cock, the thick length bobbing heavily between their bodies.

Yn's eyes widened as she felt the heat of him pressing against her slick folds. This was it. The moment she had been dreading, the moment she had been fighting against, but also the moment she had been begging for. Even as her mind recoiled, her body also seemed to welcome his intrusion.

The Marquis broke the kiss, his breath coming in short, rapid bursts. His voice was low and dangerous as he purred, “You want this, don't you? You want me to fuck you, to fill you until you're screaming my name.”

With tears rolling down her cheeks, Yn nodded her head, her hips canted upwards, seeking his touch. Her voice was small and broken as she whimpered, “Yes, please! Fill me, sir!”

With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, stretching her walls to the point of pain. However, it also filled her in the most pleasurable, gratifying way. Yn cried out, her back arching off the table as he began to move, his hips snapping against hers in a brutal rhythm.

It was too much, too intense. Yn could feel every inch of him, could feel the way he pulsed and throbbed inside her. And despite everything, despite the shame and the guilt and the wrongness of it all, she could feel herself responding, her body welcoming his invasion even as her mind screamed in protest.

The Marquis's thick, throbbing cock was buried deep inside Yn's slick, tight folds. His hips moved in a brutal rhythm, snapping against her with each thrust. Yn’s back was arched off the table, her body fully exposed to his powerful movements. Her hands were laid on the table beside her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with both pleasure and pain. Her pussy juices coated his cock and flowed freely as he relentlessly pounded into her. Her breasts bounced up and down her body with each pounding.

Yn's breasts heaved with each powerful thrust, rising and falling with the rhythm of the Marquis's hips. Her nipples were flushed and hard, her skin glistening with sweat in the candlelight. They jiggled and bounced, almost mesmerising in their movements. Their size and fullness were emphasised by the force of his movements, and Yn couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and pain each time they bounced against her body.

Yn's legs were spread wide, her toes curling in pleasure as she felt the Marquis's forceful movements. Her skin was flushed and slick with sweat in the dim candlelight, the muscles in her thighs tensing with each thrust. Her legs swayed back and forth, following the merciless rhythm of his hips as he took her.

The sound of skin slapping against skin, mixed with Yn's sharp cries and the Marquis's low grunts, filled the room. The creaking of the table and the rattling of the objects on top of it added to the symphony of pleasure and desire. The wet sounds of their bodies joining and separating, slick with sweat and juices, echoed off the walls, creating a primal melody that consumed them both. Through it all, the heavy breathing and guttural moans of pleasure from both Yn and the Marquis could be heard, intensifying with each powerful thrust.

The Marquis, driven by an insatiable lust, maintained his brutal pace, his hips snapping against Yn's with each powerful thrust. The room was filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, mingling with Yn's sharp cries of pleasure and pain.

“Take it, ma lapine,” the Marquis growled, his voice rough with desire. “Take my cock. Take everything I give you.”

Yn could only sob in response, her body shaking with the force of his thrusts. She could feel him everywhere, could feel the way he stretched and filled her, the way he claimed her so completely. It was wrong, so wrong, but in that moment, lost in a haze of sensation, she couldn't bring herself to care.

The Marquis's hands roamed over Yn's body, gripping her hips, her thighs, and her breasts. He pinched and tugged at her nipples, sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through her core. Yn's back arched, a scream tearing from her throat as he hit a spot deep inside her that made stars explode behind her eyelids.

“Please,” she begged, though she wasn't even sure what she was asking for. “Please, more. More!”

The words tasted like sin on her tongue, but Yn was too far gone to care. All that mattered was the feeling of the Marquis inside her, the way he made her body sing with pleasure even as her mind recoiled in shame.

And so she surrendered to it, to him, letting the Marquis take her in the most primal way possible. Her body was his to use, his to claim, his to ruin. And as the pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo, she knew she could finally get it. She could finally cum!

The Marquis's thrusts grew erratic, his hips slamming against Yn's with a force that shook the table beneath them. Yn could feel the tension coiling in his body, could sense the impending release that hovered just out of reach.

“Cum for me,” the Marquis growled, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Cum on my cock. Now.”

And then, with a final, brutal thrust, Yn's world shattered. Pleasure exploded through her body, so intense it bordered on pain. Her back arched off the table, her mouth open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashed over her in wave after wave of ecstasy.

The Marquis's expression contorted in pleasure; his eyes tightly shut as he reached climax. His fingers dug into Yn's hips, leaving red marks on her skin as he pulled her flush against him. His cock pulsated and throbbed inside her, spilling his seed deep within her womb. Yn could feel the hot rush of his release, could feel the way it filled her, claimed her, marked her as his own.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the only indication of their end of recent fucking. The Marquis and Yn remained locked together, their bodies still trembling from the intense climax they had just shared. The sound of skin sliding against skin could be heard as they tried to catch their breath, with the occasional low groan escaping from the Marquis’ lips. And then, as the moment stretched on, the soft sound of nuzzling could be heard as the Marquis buried his face in Yn’s hair, breath hot against her neck as he showed his affection for her.

“Mine,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive. “All mine.”

Yn heard it. She heard it all, even if he whispered. He sounded so possessive and so obsessive. So smitten. Emily’s words rang in her head.

“He likes you that much.”

She remembered a part of her had once told her. Get him to buy you a laptop. After everything he’s forced on you, don’t you deserve something back?

“I…” you spoke up, attracting the Frenchman’s attention.

In his weariness, he gently lifted himself off of you, yet still close enough to feel his warmth. He placed his hands on either side of your head and leaned in, towering over you with an intimate intensity. His gaze was filled with desire as he looked at you with a pair of bedroom eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

You stared at him in silence, wondering if it was okay to ask him for something. Would he get angry? Would he look at you in disgust? Would he see you as an opportunistic and materialistic bitch?

“Say it, ma lapine,” he told you.

His sweet nickname for you convinced you to do it.

“I want… a laptop,” you meekly said. “That’s all…”

The Marquis's eyes glinted in realisation at Yn's request. Yn, the woman who had resisted him a lot in the past, just asked him for something. She had seen him as a provider. A reliable, dependable man to provide her with anything. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his features.

“A laptop, hmm?” he mused, his fingers trailing lightly over Yn's cheek. “And what do you intend to do with this laptop?”

Yn swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, that the Marquis was not a man to be trifled with. But something about the way he looked at her, the possessive glint in his eye, made her feel that she could do this.

“I... I want to do more,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want to learn more on the Internet. It would be convenient for me and my family.”

The Marquis’ smile widened, his hand cupping Yn's chin and tilting her face up towards his own. “Oh, ma petite. You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you ask me that.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against Yn's in a tender kiss. It was a stark contrast to the brutal passion they had shared mere moments before, but no less intense for its gentleness.

“Of course, you shall have your laptop,” the Marquis breathed against her mouth. “And anything else you desire. You have but to ask, ma lapine. I have the money to provide you with everything.”

You glanced up at the magnificent ceiling above you, your thoughts empty as his words slowly sank in. Then, one thought surfaced in your mind.

You got him wrapped around your finger.

PREV : Chapter 07

NEXT : Chapter 09

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