#idk if they could have a happy ending with each other

[5trrr]

☀️Bob Reynolds One Shot☀️

“no funny business” pt.1

summary: Y/N and Bob are left at the tower while the rest of the team goes on a mission after Bob and her have an accident, totally unrelated to an arm wrestling match a week prior. Taking her frustration out on a punching bag turns into taking it out on him…and more of him.

warning: smut, handjob, he’s pathetic in like every possible way in this…whoops finger slipped ig, Y/N is kind of a bully, idk how to do this, this is my first post, send help

word count: 3956

"No funny business," Bucky spoke as he entered the elevator. He turned, standing with Yelena as they waited for the rest of the team to join them. "I mean it. If I come back to another broken limb, when you're not even in danger..." He paused, glaring between the two newest members of their team. "How does that even happen?" Bucky whispered more to himself than Yelena, but the woman was happy to answer anyway.

"Funny business." Yelena grinned, winking at you two.

John and Ava finally appeared from their hallway. The man stopped just before he could enter the elevator, the Captain America shield shining in the dimming light as he turned to the two of you next.

His eyes scrunched, "You look like shit." They landed on you, standing behind the couch, a cast on your right hand.

You glared back and raised your chin. "You're a fake. Asshole."

"Yeah? How's house arrest treating you?"

You jolted forward, and a hand wrapped gently around your forearm. Your glare found the man behind you. Bob. His eyes went wide as he released you. "Sorry." He whispered as you ripped your arm from him.

"Why don't you two spar while we're gone?" Alexei finally piped up, his grin wide as the elevator doors began to slowly shut. "You're a cripple and you, a wuss! Pretty even!" His accent was thick and his voice loud. The two of you could hear it even with the doors shut.

You growled as you stomped away, arm held tight to your stomach. The other waved wildly as you spoke, Russian slipping out, punctuated with each forced footstep. "Are you coming or not?" You shouted, now heading down the stairs.

Bob sighed. He leaned down and grabbed the water you left behind before beginning to follow. He almost didn't want to, but he knew he didn't have a choice. It was his fault you were forced to stay in the tower, after all. The least he could do was spar with you and try not to break the other hand.

The events of last week ran through his mind for probably the millionth time. They thought arm wrestling would be a good way to erase their boredom, to get through the quiet hours of the morning...The only thing it ended up erasing was your wrist. He cringed. He could still hear the snap of it when he won, his arm slamming yours down on the table. Since then, you have been stuck in the tower, with even less to do than before.

Bob tried to hurry on his way down to the basement, the sounds of rhythmic beats already echoing up the stairwell. He finally made it to the bottom and could immediately see you on the opposite end of the room. You swung your left arm, and it snapped quickly against the punching bag. Your right hung loosely at your side. He could see the struggle in your shoulder, the tensing each time you remembered you couldn't swing it. Frustration was flooding through you, quick and forceful like your voice as you snapped at him.

"Hey!" You barked, chest puffing with effort. Your eyes glanced down at the bottle held in his hand. "Gonna break that too?" She moved forward and snatched it from his delicate hold. He took the snarky remark. He couldn't blame you. He had broken you, literally.

You, on the other hand, were seething. The rest of the team was out there helping, and you were stuck here...with him? God, you wanted to rip his hand off. Make him stay on the sidelines for a month. Give John another reason to be an asshole. Alexei, another area to poke, as if it was fun to watch you wince and shout.

You spun, and your left hand slammed the bag again. Your fist was off center, your feet at an awkward angle. Your hand made the wrong sound against the thick material, and so did you. The grunt of breath didn't escape you this time, but a pained yowl as you clenched it tight against your chest.

"Y/N!" Bob gasped at the sound. His feet moved before he could stop them, and his hand landed gently on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

As soon as his hand landed on you, you turned. Your unbroken hand pushed roughly at his chest. "Don't touch me!" You growled. Your hand clenched and unclenched around nothing as you followed his clumsy steps. "You got me stuck here." You spoke harshly, eyebrows furrowed as you glared up at him. You pushed again at his chest. Again and again until his back hit the wall. He inhaled sharply. "I have one working fucking hand." Your face scrunched. "I'm..." You huffed and puffed, blinking hard.

Bob didn't say anything. Not with his words, at least. His eyes, however, were louder than even your shouts. They were wide and kind, not a spark of blame or anger in them. You didn't expect that. You thought he would have done something by now. Yelled. Pushed back. Cried. Something. Anything. His silence only angered you more.

"Say something!" You hissed.

He only blinked his eyes at you, until finally, "I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice was so quiet, you could barely hear it over your breathing. "Really. I didn't realize how hard I had pushed your arm." His words were slow and calm, breathy, as his eyes followed you. "I was just...I thought we were having fun. I-I'm sorry."

You froze. Your breathing calmed, and it almost felt like the whole room had hit pause. A pang of guilt and regret built up inside your chest. It grew from a small spark to a blazing fire, roaming from your mind and into your bones. You almost released him. Your hand loosened, and you sighed. Then, his hand reached out and brushed your arm. The anger flooded back to you in an instant, and you pulled. You pulled and pulled until both of you landed on the sparring mat below.

Pain jolted up your right arm as you pushed yourself onto your knees. You groaned softly, glancing down at the cast, pushed on the ground. You leaned back on your knees in time to see him crawl onto his knees as well. You glared, a warning. Warning him not to come closer. To not worry like he cared.

"Y/N..." He whispered again. "I don't think that's...Is your hand okay?"

"That's obvious." You spat. You leapt forward, left hand landing on the bottom of his jaw, pinning his head hard against the mat. "Don't act like you care. You did this."

Bob let out a gasp as he was pushed down. He didn't fight back. He knew he could. Yes, you were a Red Room assassin. Yes, you had extraordinary combat skills, but he was...Bob. He could have flung you into the ceiling and buried you under it without breaking a sweat. But he didn't. Bob stayed beneath your hand and legs, letting you yell at him. He just kept reminding himself, it was the least he could do.

"I'm already looked down on in this team." Your chest puffed as you held him there. "John takes every chance he can to fuck with me. Ava doesn't acknowledge me. Yelena doesn't want to get close. She feels guilty for..." You panted. You could feel your throat tighten.

Bob stared up at you with nothing but sympathy. His hands found you again, gently resting on your elbows. He could see the effort it took for you to say this. He pushed up, just barely, giving support, showing he was listening. He was, truly. He listened to every word leaving your mouth, nodding slowly.

"You..." You choked out. "You..." You couldn't find the words. He looked almost pathetic under you. You had berated and abused him all day, and he looked like a dog under you. Waiting so patiently for another.

"W-What do I do?" You didn't miss the crack in his voice. His hands tightened slightly. "Tell me. I'll fix it. I'll make it up to you."

Dazed by his words, you only stared down at him. Your face relaxed, and you let your upper body lean more into his. Your own actions surprised you, and you tightened back up, raising your chin high until he could barely make out your face.

"I never wanted to hurt you or..." He swallowed thickly, and your eyes followed the way his Adam's apple bobbed. "whatever it is I did to make you hate me." Your mouth fell slightly open at his admission. You couldn't help but shake your head. "Yes." He nodded again against your hand. "Tell me, please."

"I..." Your voice was shaky, hand loosening on his jaw. He still didn't move. He stayed where you left him, waiting and waiting for your answer. "I don't hate you." Bob's brows furrowed at your words. Yours followed suit. Your words left you just as surprised as him. "I just feel...useless." You couldn't believe you were admitting this. Why were you? You didn't know. "I'm only on this team because Yelena and Bucky feel bad for me. Now, there's no point. I can't help feeling I'm going to come back after going out and my shits going to be on the sidewalk." The words poured out of you like a flowing river, and you snapped a hand over your mouth.

You stared in horror down at Bob. His eyes were just as wide as yours. Though they held a gentleness yours never could. Your breathing grew heavier again behind your hand. Admitting all of that felt like a weight had lifted off your shoulders. But a new one quickly replaced it. He still hadn't said anything. Your thoughts raced, blinding you with what he probably thought of you now.

Bob's hands reached up. You froze as he slowly peeled your hand from your mouth. Your breathing fanned across his hand, and he shivered. You could feel it. His abdomen twitched from below you, and you only now noticed the position you put yourself in. You were straddling him. The poor man you had been scolding like a dog all day. And, he allowed it with no complaints.

"S-Say something." You repeated your earlier words. They were much gentler now. Softer. Kinder. It felt odd coming from you.

Bob smiled. It was a boyish grin, like he had already forgotten everything you'd done to him. "You're not useless." His hand released yours, and your whole upper body followed it. "They care about you so much more than you think." His hand landed on his chest, and yours quickly accompanied it. "You're probably not going to like this, but I care too." His voice was so quiet. It sounded like a sentence only you were ever meant to hear. You liked that, and it seemed your body did too, your chest dropping onto your hands until your faces were so, so close. "I'm sorry."

"Shut up." You whispered.

He whined at your words. The sound was so sudden, he was even surprised by it. "I-I'm sorry." He quickly repeated. A slight blush bloomed on his neck.

"Shut up." You repeated, and before he could snap his mouth shut or whisper another whiny apology, your lips pressed against his. The kiss was hesitant and messy. Neither of you knew when to pull away. Your lips mashed together like two stiff sticks until you finally pulled away, panting. "I should be the..." You paused to breathe, nose brushing against his. "I should apologize. I've been terrible to you all week over an accident." His lips moved to your cheek, leaving a peck as you continued to speak. "You're just...so nice. I don't know what to do with myself when you compliment me or, god forbid, try to help me."

Bob hummed as his lips trailed down to your jaw. "You're not terrible. You're hurt and tired and frustrated." He moaned softly when one of your hands buried in his hair. "Because of me."

"No." Your hand tugged at his wavy brown hair, and his head fell back. "You haven't done anything but be a kind person." His mouth fell slightly open as your lips pressed just below his Adam's apple. It bobbed as he swallowed. "I've been nothing but an asshole.”

"We've both been assholes." He whispered, voice raspy. "Just..." His hands gripped your waist. "A-Agree to disagree."

You laughed at that, nose poking against his throat. "I suppose." You whispered, lips trailing up until they met his again.

It felt more natural this time. Your lips pressed and moved in time together. His mouth opened to moan, and you swallowed it, your tongue sliding into his. His hands tightened at the intrusion, sliding down to your hips. He squeezed, and you shivered.

The need grew between you two, hands unable to stay put. Yours slid down to his chest, slowly working at the buttons of his shirt. His hands replaced yours when you finally pulled away from him. Your chest heaving with your breath, eyes following his hands as each button revealed more of his surprising muscles. He could see it in your eyes, the surprise.

His hand wrapped around yours, and he brought it to the skin just above his waistband, dragging your hand up his skin. You could feel the muscles tense under your touch as you passed them, and a faint smile spread across your lips. He unwrapped his hand from yours, but you kept going.

Your hand travelled up and up until your hand could wrap around his chin again. It was gentle this time. You didn't push or shove his head into the mat. You gently swiped your thumb across his bottom lip, eyes finding his. He kept his mouth shut, letting you explore. His eyes did all the talking. They were wide and pleading, stuck on you and only you. No one had looked at you with such attention before.

You leaned down and pressed another gentle kiss to his lips. "You're so pretty." The words were slurred into his mouth as you struggled to speak around the force of his lips. He pushed up, trying to keep the contact between you as you pulled away. Your hands moved at the same time. You pushed him down, and he tugged gently on your shirt.

"Can I..." He paused. His hands played with the material between his fingers. You didn't answer his question, but you reached down and pulled the shirt over your head. His eyes widened, scanning across your now bare skin. "A-And you called me pretty." The words were accompanied by a sly smirk that you kissed away.

Your entire body shivered when his hands landed on your waist. They slid up and down your skin, feeling the goosebumps they left in their wake. Your lips trailed back down onto his neck, sucking gently. His hands tightened at the feeling, and you grinned against his skin. "Sensitive?" You hummed, moving to the spot below his ear.

"N-No," Bob whispered. His voice was quiet and meek. You could feel his skin warming below your touch. "It's cold."

"Cold?" You felt his body arch against you when you nipped the skin. "You feel pretty warm to me." You giggled faintly, and he groaned. "Maybe you have a fever." Your left hand found his forehead while the right was laid limp next to his head. "Should take you to the infirmary." You pulled away, and his arms wrapped securely around you, bringing you flush together.

"I'm fine." Bob panted. "Don't. Please." His words were rushed and panicked, like he actually thought you were going to take him. You huffed at that. No way that was happening, not with the way he looked so needy beneath you. It was too pretty of a sight to pass up.

"I'll stay." You whispered in his ear. He nodded quickly, head bobbing. Your hands found his stomach again, trailing between the divots before teasing gently across his waistband. "If you really want me to, that is."

"I do, I do." He rushed his words as he felt you tug at his belt. He could feel you undoing it and couldn't bring himself to say anymore. He knew it would be a mess anyway.

"Is this okay?" You asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear. He nodded, and you stopped, ignoring the whine that left him. "Use your words."

He shivered at your tone. He swallowed thickly before complying. "Y-Yes." He pushed his hips up, wishing and waiting for your hand to return. "It's so okay. Nothing else could be more okay." Your hands tugged again, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. He shuddered as he watched it go. "Can I touch you?" He asked lowly, eyes unable to decide whether to stare at you or your hips as you settled against him.

"Please, do." You laughed, and he got right to work.

His hands slid up your stomach and over the sides of your torso. His hands itched closer to your chest. He was almost there, but something stopped him. He glanced pleadingly up at you again, his thumbs grazing the side of your breasts. You huffed, wrapping your hands around the back of his. You pulled them flush to you, and he groaned. His hands cupped you so perfectly, his eyes trained on his hands around your bra. You released him, and his hands moved around until they found the clasp. He didn't ask for permission this time, instead immediately struggling with the hooks.

"I, uh..." He sat up to glance around, and you pushed him back down.

You reached back and undid it, giggling as the flush on his face grew. His hands found your breasts again. He squeezed gently before pulling you down until you were flush together. He kissed between them first, then moved to the left one, slowly taking it into his mouth. You gasped, and his eyes shut. His hand found the free one, pinching it between his thumb and finger. The hand buried in his hair tugged, your body curving around him.

"Was that..." Bob panted, eyes filled with slight worry. His mouth slid off of you with a dull pop. "Was that too hard?"

You pressed your lips against his, hard. He sounded so sweet and sincere. Concerned about your poor skin after you had been yelling at him all day, not a care in the world for how he must have felt. "It was perfect." You mumbled into his lips. "You're perfect." A moan escaped him. "So sweet." His hips pressed up, lifting you slightly as he groaned. You smiled, watching the struggle and want in his eyes. "Needy, too." You hummed.

"Please." He panted when you finally pulled away. "I'll be whatever you need me to be." His hips pressed up again, and you couldn't deny the warmth growing in your stomach. It was there and so, so loud in your body, but you ignored it. "I'll be perfect. I'll be sweet. I'll be..." His eyes squeezed shut as your hands loosened in his hair, gently patting it down. "I'll be your punching bag. You can hate me and yell at me. I'll take it. I will." His words were so rushed and whiny now, you could barely make them out. "Just, please...touch me."

"Bob." You whispered when his mouth opened to continue. You leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I'll never yell at you again. I'll never take out my anger on you." You pecked his lips, and your hands danced down to his waistband. "Never let me do that again." The button clicked, and he shivered as he heard the zipper. "But, let me make it up to you?" Your hands stopped, and he let out a shaky breath.

"You don't have to make it up to me. I did break your arm." He tried to keep his voice even. "But, you can do that if you want to." His voice finally shook, his head falling back as your hand moved onto him. He gasped as your palm brushed against him.

Bob fought to keep his hips still, to let you touch, but it was too gentle, too unaware. His hips jolted forward, and you watched curiously. Your hand moved with his hips, keeping your touch nearly nonexistent. You leaned back on your knees to watch. He looked so pretty like this. His eyebrows furrowed, face flushed, mouth blabbering pleas that echoed off the concrete walls to greet you a second time.

"P-Please don't tease me." He whispered, hips bucking into the feeling. He groaned as he watched your hand rise, staying just barely on him, barely grazing where he wanted you. "I'll do anything. Please, just touch me." You would have made some remark about how you were touching him, but you didn't want to interrupt the flow of his words. "I'll never ask you to do this again. Just this one time."

Your hand added more pressure, just enough for him to notice. "You only want to do this once?" You pouted your lip, and his head shook frantically.

"No, no. God, no." Bob panted. "I want this every day. Every night." His back arched as you rewarded him with another ounce of pressure. "As long as you want. As long as you need. I-I'm yours."

That was it.

Your hand pressed down firmly, cupping him through his boxers. He gasped. His hands found your hips, gripping desperately as his hips bucked. "Oh, yes." He whimpered.

The whimper broke something in you, and your hand was suddenly in his boxers, tugging him free until your hand could wrap around him. Your right arm itched to help. To touch. To feel. You had barely made it halfway to the lines of his abs before he grabbed it. His hips rolled up roughly, his eyes squeezed shut, but he held your cast in his hand like it was a flower. So delicate and careful, as his hips bucked like an animal. Your hand sped up at the sight. At the care he put into holding your hand.

"I-I'm gonna..." His voice was broken and ruined. He looked wrecked, and it was only your hand. "Y/N...please, d-don't stop."

"Shh..." You shushed quietly. Your hand was held between you as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. "I've got you. I'm not stopping." His face tightened, and his hip movements grew erratic. "I don't know if I could anyway." You whispered, swallowing his whimpers and moans as your lips danced together. "You're just too pretty."

His legs tensed, and you could feel the muscles below you tighten. Your hand continued to stroke him, coaxing as much as you could get from him. He arched as he came, his thick, white ropes coating your clothed thighs. You wanted to watch, but you felt pulling away from the kiss now would be cruel. Instead, you could only feel his hips stutter and slow until they stopped. His whole body shuddered as you gently stroked him one last time, and he twitched in your hand.

You finally pulled away when his breathing evened out. He followed, leaning up on his elbows to glance you over. His eyes trailed over the mess he made on your sweatpants. He glanced apologetically up at you. "I'm sorry about that." He whispered.

You only shook your head. "You don't ever have to apologize to me."

[honeydippedfiction]

happy bday 🥳

for Joe burrow from hurt/comfort 3,28, and 18?

like maybe reader and bf get in massive fight and finally end a toxic relationship, reader runs to Joe he’s happy it’s over, and he stays with her to comfort her.

Idk just and idea

#honeydipped1k

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

#3. "I didn't know where else to go, I'm sorry for bothering you.", #18. "Can you wait until I fall asleep before leaving?" "I'm not leaving you alone when you're like this." & #28. Not hiding how relieved/happy/satisfied they are when you tell them you broke up with your ex for good.

Joe Burrow x black!femreader

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Y/N had always been the kind of person who tried to see the best in people. She believed in second chances, in working through problems, and in the idea that love could fix most things. But lately, she’d been questioning just how far those beliefs could stretch, especially when it came to her relationship with Terrence.

At first, things had been simple. Terrence had charmed her with his easy smile, his sweet words, and the way he made her laugh when she needed it most. He wasn’t perfect, but then again, neither was she. They’d connected over their shared sense of humor and love for adventure. Early on, she had felt like they balanced each other out—his spontaneity complementing her calm, his boldness playing off her cautious nature. For a while, it had been enough.

But now, as months had passed, things had begun to shift. At first, it was little things. Snide comments when she made decisions he didn’t agree with. The subtle, passive-aggressive jabs that stung more than he realized. Then, it became worse. The arguments had started, small at first, easy to ignore or smooth over with a forced apology and promises to do better.

But slowly, the cracks deepened.

Y/N found herself walking on eggshells more often than not. Terrence’s temper had flared during their dinners, when he was frustrated with work, or when she’d suggested they spend time with friends instead of staying in. The insults were sharper now. The silence after every disagreement was heavier. He would shut her out for days, only to return with some half-hearted explanation, like nothing had happened.

And every time, Y/N tried to forgive. She reminded herself of the good times, the laughs they’d shared, the way he had once made her feel safe. She reminded herself of how much she had invested into this relationship, how much she wanted it to work. But the truth was becoming clearer with every passing day—this wasn’t love. Not the kind of love she deserved.

Her friends had noticed it too. They’d tried to tell her, gently at first. "Y/N, you’re different when you’re with him," they’d say, concern lacing their voices. "You’re not yourself." But she had brushed them off. She didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to admit that the man she had thought she would build a future with was someone who was slowly tearing her down.

It wasn’t until tonight that she couldn’t pretend anymore.

It had started, as most of their fights did, with something small—something insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Y/N had suggested they go out with some friends to celebrate the weekend. Terrence had shot the idea down before she could even finish her sentence.

“You know how I feel about going out,” he had snapped, eyes narrowing. “I don’t feel like wasting my time with your friends. It’s just gonna be some boring night.”

She’d tried to reason with him. "It’s not about the night, Terrence. It’s about spending time with people who care about us. We haven’t done anything together in weeks."

He had scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Always with the guilt trips. Why can’t you just take a hint and let me relax?"

The words cut into her, but she held her ground. "It’s not about you relaxing, it’s about us connecting. We’ve been growing apart, Terrence. Don’t you see that? I’m not asking for much, just a little effort."

His face twisted in annoyance, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “Effort? Is that what you think this is about? Effort? You’re always complaining about something, Y/N. Maybe it’s you who needs to change, not me.”

She could feel her patience slipping, her heart pounding in her chest. The exhaustion of months of unspoken frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface, and before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out.

“You think I need to change? Maybe you should stop being so selfish for once and actually listen to me.” Her voice was shaking, the tears already threatening to break free.

His eyes darkened, and he stepped toward her, pointing a finger in her face. "Selfish? You're calling me selfish? You’re the one who’s always complaining, always nagging me about something. Maybe if you weren’t so damn needy all the time, we wouldn’t have these problems!"

Y/N’s chest tightened as his words echoed in her mind. It was always the same—every fight ended with him deflecting blame, with him making her feel like the problem. The anger flared inside her, but beneath it, something else was growing: a quiet sense of realization. This wasn’t just an argument. This was the end.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snapped, her voice trembling with a mixture of hurt and fury. "I’m not your punching bag, Terrence. You can’t keep treating me like this and expect me to stick around."

He smirked, crossing his arms. “Oh, so now you’re leaving me? You’ve been threatening that for weeks, Y/N. You’re just too weak to actually do it.”

Her heart dropped at his words, but the finality in them broke something inside her. Maybe it was his blatant disregard for her feelings. Maybe it was the fact that, deep down, she knew she’d been too afraid to let go for far too long. But she wasn’t weak. She wasn’t going to be dragged down by someone who couldn’t see her worth.

“No,” she said, her voice steady now. "I’m not weak. But I’m done, Terrence. I’m done. This… this isn’t love. And I’m done trying to fix something that isn’t worth fixing anymore.”

The words hung in the air between them, charged and full of finality. Terrence’s expression shifted, confusion and anger flaring together. “You’re really going to do this? You think you’ll be better off without me?”

Y/N shook her head, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Yes. I will be.”

The silence stretched between them, a tension so thick it felt suffocating. And then, as if he couldn’t stand the weight of it anymore, he let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. Leave then. You think you’ll be happy? Go ahead."

But Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t run after him or beg him to reconsider. She didn’t try to hold onto something that had been slipping through her fingers for far too long. Instead, she turned and walked away.

Out the door. Out of the life that had drained her for so long.

As she closed the door behind her, she didn’t feel the weight of loss. No, instead, she felt the lightness of freedom.

She had done it. She had broken free.

And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel alone.

Y/N didn’t know where to go, or what she was going to do next, but she did know one thing: she was done with Terrence. For good.

And as she walked out into the night, her phone buzzing with unanswered calls from him, she made a decision. She couldn’t stay in this mess any longer.

Without even thinking, she dialed the number she knew she could always count on. Joe’s.

“I need you,” she whispered when he answered, her voice thick with emotion. “Please… I don’t know where else to go.”

The relief that flooded her body in that moment Joe said for her to come over was overwhelming. She didn’t have to be strong anymore. Joe had always been her safe place, the one person who had never let her down. The thought of seeing him, of being in his presence, soothed her racing heart.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

Joe's mansion loomed ahead as she approached, its warm lights casting long shadows across the driveway. The sprawling estate, tucked away on the outskirts of town, was a world away from the chaos of her life. The imposing structure was softened by the warmth of its lights, and for a moment, she let herself be swallowed by its calm.

As Y/N approached the front door, she could hear the sound of weights clinking, the familiar rhythm of Joe’s late-night workout. She smiled despite herself, a bittersweet feeling settling in her chest. Joe had always been like that—steadfast, reliable, someone who found solace in the familiar routines of his life. She had always admired that about him. But right now, she just needed the comfort of his presence, the steadying force he exuded.

Without knocking, she pushed the door open, the sound of it creaking on its hinges echoing in the vast entryway. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped inside, her sneakers soft against the polished hardwood floors.

Joe was in the kitchen, wiping his face with a towel after his workout. He was dressed in a simple gray tank top and shorts, his muscles still glistening from exertion, but the moment he turned and saw her standing there, his face shifted from casual to concerned in an instant. His gaze dropped to the frantic trembling in her hands, the tears brimming in her eyes, and the exhaustion in her posture.

“Y/N?” His voice was a whisper, as if he wasn’t sure whether he was seeing things clearly. “What happened? You’re—what’s going on?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Y/N crossed the room in two long strides, her arms instinctively wrapping around his torso as her body shook with the force of her emotions. She buried her face in his chest, feeling the solid strength of him against her like an anchor in the storm.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she whispered, her voice ragged and broken. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Joe’s heart twisted at the sound of her voice, cracking with sorrow. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in closer, his hands smoothing over her back in slow, calming motions. “You’re never bothering me, Y/N. Never. You don’t have to apologize. You never have been, and you never will be. You’re safe here. Always.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into him, letting his solid presence calm the frantic storm inside her. She didn’t have to explain herself. She didn’t have to say anything. She could just be—here, with him. And that was enough.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and the world outside seemed to disappear. It was just Joe and Y/N, standing in the quiet of his mansion, holding onto each other like they had done a thousand times before. But this time, it was different. This time, Y/N wasn’t just seeking comfort. She was seeking escape, seeking freedom from a relationship that had drained her for far too long.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes red from the tears she had held in for so long. She wiped her face quickly, trying to regain some semblance of control, but there was no hiding the pain in her eyes. She met his gaze, and for the first time in months, she said the words that she knew she had been too afraid to say before.

“I broke up with him,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “For good. This time, it’s over.”

The words hung in the air between them for a beat before Joe froze, his hands still resting on her shoulders. His mind raced to process what she had just said, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t just relief that washed over him. It was a rush of emotion he hadn’t expected.

He didn’t even try to hide it—the relief, the happiness, the almost overwhelming satisfaction that she had finally done it. Finally broken free. Joe’s shoulders sagged with the weight of his own relief, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t just a smile—it was a sense of quiet joy, as if a burden had been lifted not just from her, but from him too.

“You did?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion, almost as if he was confirming that he had heard her correctly. “Y/N, I—I’m so glad you did.”

His eyes softened, and there was a genuine warmth there, one that reached far beyond simple friendship. It was relief. It was happiness. It was a long-awaited moment where he knew, deep down, that she had finally chosen herself.

Y/N nodded, the weight in her chest finally starting to lift. “I had to, Joe. I couldn’t keep doing it. The fighting, the manipulation, the lies... it was suffocating. Every time I thought it would get better, it just went right back to being the same. I couldn’t breathe anymore.”

Joe's hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. He tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You deserve so much more than that. So much more than him.”

Joe’s gaze never left her face, and the intensity in his eyes was almost overwhelming. He reached out and cupped her cheek, his touch gentle but firm. “You deserve so much more than that, Y/N,” he said, his voice a quiet promise. “So much more than him. You’ve always deserved more.”

His words hit her like a wave, washing over her with the force of something she had never quite realized she needed to hear. She had always known Joe cared for her—but the way he said those words, the sincerity behind them, made something inside her shift. She wasn’t just hearing him as a friend. She was hearing him as someone who truly cared for her happiness.

“I just feel stupid for staying so long,” she admitted quietly, her voice cracking. “I knew it wasn’t right, but I kept thinking he’d change. That maybe it would get better.”

Joe’s thumb brushed over her cheek, wiping away a stray tear, his eyes soft with understanding. His voice was unwavering when he spoke again. “You’re not stupid, Y/N. You’re human. And sometimes, we all stay longer than we should, hoping things will change. You wanted to believe in him, in the good you saw in him. But you did the right thing. You chose yourself.”

Y/N looked up at him, something raw and real flickering behind her eyes. She realized, with an almost painful clarity, how much she needed to hear that. How much she had needed him—needed his steadiness, his unwavering belief in her—for far longer than she had been willing to admit.

A shiver ran through her as she exhaled deeply, the release of tension a physical sensation. The weight of her decision, and the years of pressure she had been carrying, finally began to lift. She leaned into Joe’s chest again, feeling his warmth radiate into her. She didn’t want to be strong anymore. Not tonight. Not when he was here.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the words barely audible as she leaned into his touch.

Joe pulled her closer, his lips brushing the top of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispered back. “And that you’re here.”

She nodded, tears still lingering, but something had shifted. She wasn’t alone anymore.

“Can you... can you stay until I fall asleep?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, vulnerable, fragile.

Joe’s heart twisted at the vulnerability in her voice, at the quiet plea for him to stay. He didn’t even hesitate. His response came easily, instinctively.

“I’m not leaving you alone when you’re like this,” he said, his voice warm but firm. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She let herself be led to the couch, feeling the warmth of Joe’s presence beside her as he made sure she was comfortable. He adjusted the blankets around them both, his touch light but comforting.

Minutes passed in peaceful silence, and soon, Y/N’s breathing slowed as she drifted into a restful sleep, her body relaxing against Joe’s. He stayed awake a little longer, watching over her, his heart swelling with a protective tenderness.

As he kissed the top of her head, his voice soft in the quiet of the room, he whispered, “I’m so glad you’re free, Y/N. You deserve everything good that’s coming your way.”

In that moment, Joe realized that maybe this wasn’t just about her escaping a toxic relationship. Maybe it was the beginning of something new—something better. And for the first time in a long while, he felt the stirrings of hope, knowing that they were both exactly where they were supposed to be.

[raphaerolo]

This is how i hold obitine in my mind: mostly untraumatized (mostly), silly lil cutie patooties and yet moments away from an incredibly catty argument at any given time

[thelilylav]

He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

(He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother, The Hollies)

My art, The World at Its Beginning (Dustin Pearson), The Tyrant's Tomb (Rick Riordan), The Fall of the House of Usher (Steven Berkoff), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), Leto and her Children (William Henry Rinehart), The Moon Had No Light of its Own (Imaginary Future), My Love Mine All Mine (Mitski), Untitled (Lyra Wren), The Tyrant's Tomb (Rick Riordan), Electra (Sophocles), To Forgive (The Smashing Pumpkins), Unknown, The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), The Sun is Also a Star (Nicola Yoon), Doomed From the Beginning (@/veniennes on tiktok), On learning to write professionally (Interview with Jazmine Hughes by The Creative Independent), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), My art

[mocksyoucondescendingly]

I don't understand this marchil thing what's the appeal

I JUST wrote about this haha

and knowing that you may not get to see the rest of someone's life doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy the moments you will get with them.

overall, I like their dynamic and chemistry...

at the start, it feels as though marcille is not very knowledgeable of the world outside of academics. she isn't comfortable in most of society because she's always seen as an outsider. she does her best to put up this image, and she cares a lot about it. but it's all based on this Fear that she's not enough or too much, and nobody will ever understand her. that she will always be alone.

I think Falin helped crack that in Marcille (og farcille truther); she showed her that it's okay to just slow down and notice the moment. to breathe it in and not even worry about the passing of time.... but Marcille was young and caught in her fears still... hard to shake them. so she took it more like a challenge, like, "how can I let everything I love slow down so much that I don't have to notice that it's left me???" so desperate to capture the things she loves.

...

And Chilchuck is just like. this guy ??? and he could die so young ????? he had a life and a family and a moment to enjoy, and he's out here risking his precious short life ???? she's shocked she's concerned she's invested.

but we know Chilchuck has experienced loss. he's most likely experienced it so much that he doesn't even consider it *should* phase him. his parents are likely dead, his wife doesn't want him, his children are adults out living THEIR lives. halflings don't live that long, so what ?? it's his life and He is living it 🙄 he is an Adult and he can do what he wants !? who knows when it will end anyway !...?

and you know,, it's that. where they connect. like. you can't get too close to someone; they could die! they could leave you ???

Marcille wears her heart on her sleeve, yells,and fights and kicks for them. she can't say it but you Can See It. she can't leave a friend behind she can't stop herself from wanting the best for others.

Chilchuck cages himself in iron. he runs, and he hides. he can't stand to be responsible for others wellbeing, it only hurts. he can't let them know he cares because then he would have to acknowledge it himself.

but we SEE the group becoming more comfortable with the idea that they Do care about one another. and we see all of them get closer and worry for the others. opening up and saying as much.,

chilchuck sees the way marcille cares Whole-Heartedly, and he can't look away. he can't believe someone would be so foolish and has lived that long. has she not been hurt enough? how could she lay her heart out so willingly? it makes him curious, and it makes him concerned. it gets him too close in a way he doesnt usually let himself get. scary...

marcille sees chil closing himself out from others and can't help but want to know what's on his mind. can't believe someone could have NO time at ALL with their loved ones ?? and not want the most of it...? he loved! how could he not want to keep that??? he's running from something she would love to have. but she doesn't know the complexities of it all,

they have to learn how to change, how to grow as people. they gain a wider understanding of the world through each other (and the rest of the entire group and through the events of the manga OBVIOUSLY) ! !! ! and through their differences they find the same root fear and that same root love.

is this coherent I do not know. love and light ✨️🥰✌️

[deus-ex-mona]

ok yk what. now that i’ve had some time to process nghy canon, considering the current pacing of gen retcon, i think their next step is as ✨clear as day✨

i really like seeing them happy together, but i truly do think that they should divorce and either live the rest of their lives as single besties; partners in hero/heroine-isms, but better off as just friends, or go their separate ways for a bit and get back together when they’re a little older and wiser, staying together for good this time around, as each other’s first and last boyfriend/girlfriend

[good--merits-accumulated]

the supremely fun thing about writing is that every project will evoke a different kind of emotional response in you and it's all so fulfilling in such radically different ways. it's partially why I can't really understand authors who restrict themselves to one writing style/genre - it's an infinite sandbox!!! why are you fencing YOURSELF in???? nobody did that!!!!

[good-beanswrites]

Hello!! If you're still taking requests for that drabble game, might I request either Strength with Kotoko + Mikoto or Weak with Amane + Futa? It's fine if you aren't doing it anymore, of course

I've been in this fanbase since trial one and out of all the things I've read, your writing is probably amongst my favorite! (Even if I haven't finished going through it all yet...) I hope you have a splendid day! <3

!!!!! You are so kind waaahh this completely made my day, thank you ;---; I'm so glad you're enjoying omg ✨And thanks for these, they were really cool and fitting combos!! I tried to do a dual-perspective of Kotoko and Mikoto's pre-T2 fight, and I posted the one for Weak below.

Strength can manifest in a variety of ways, not just physically. Kotoko had a strong determination, for example. Mikoto had a powerful way with people. She showed solid self control and willpower. He held to strict deadlines and routines. She maintained a sharp intelligence. He upheld an unshakeable resolve.

Also, they were both ridiculously physically strong.

The pair came to this realization around the same time. They’d gotten a taste of the others’ power when clashing in the interrogation room, but it had begun suddenly and ended just as quickly. This time was different. They stood in the center of the panopticon, with the echoing space to themselves. As Kotoko swung a punch toward Mikoto, and he caught her against his forearms, they had a moment to gauge the other’s muscle. 

Kotoko stared into his eyes, which had a different sort of awareness to them now. He’s more coordinated, she thought, he must not be the same one I faced before. He’s leaning on the strength in his arms -- he’s not using his legs to their fullest potential. It doesn’t matter, given the raw force of his blows. Has he trained for fights, or just built his muscles in general? 

Mikoto stared into her eyes, returning her fiery gaze. Fuck, this lady’s strong.

She wound up again. He retaliated quickly. She shoved his back into the guard’s tower. He sidestepped her next attack. 

He didn’t really care why his fellow prisoner had come charging at him swinging, but she made sure he knew.

“The warden may not be able to administer punishments,” she said in between timed breaths, “so they entrusted me with that responsibility. This is justice, for the lives you’ve taken. You won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”

He broke into harsh laughter. “You’re one crazy motherfucker! You’re the only person hurting anyone.” He tried to grab her, but she slipped from his arms. His eyes narrowed, laughter dying away with unsettling speed. “But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you hurt me.”

Kotoko was struck by the way he said it. Her voice had shaken with the very same determination when putting herself between an innocent citizen and some creep. It was how she felt now, trying to keep his violent hands away from the other prisoners. There were children here, weak and scared. Es themself was just a child, and had already suffered his violence. She refused to let this villain cause any more pain. “I’m doing what needs to be done. You’re nothing but a murderous monster.” She swung her fist.

Mikoto caught her by the wrist, forcing her to look at the blood caked in her hand. He didn’t know whose it was, but it wasn't either of theirs. “You’re the fucking monster!” He shoved her backwards. “And I’m gonna kill you for it…!”

He didn’t know how she could think she was the hero in this whole situation. He was the one protecting someone else. 

Neither held back. Mikoto wheezed as her boots connected. Kotoko cringed as Mikoto landed a solid hit on her face. There was some shouting from the hallway. Their resolves hardened. Mikoto wasn’t going to let anyone else threaten him. Kotoko wasn’t going to let him threaten anyone else. They were strong, they reminded themselves. They had to end this now.

The two charged at one another. A moment before they were set to collide, they both cried out in pain. Blinding white light flooded the dark panopticon. They clutched their eyes, stumbling away from one another. A figure shoved through, planting himself between them.

“Stop this, both of you!” It was Kazui.

“Get outta my way,” Mikoto growled.

“This is not your concern,” Kotoko said, blinking in the light. 

The spotlight in the guard’s tower had been switched on, pointed directly at them. Kazui remained in place. “That’s enough. Look at yourselves, for god’s sake!”

Under the harsh light, they now saw the sort of state they were in. Mikoto’s uniform had torn in new places, blood seeping through. He could taste some in his mouth, too. Kotoko’s face was cut. Her leg ached. They stood covered in bruises, panting. 

“Go back to your cells,” Kazui commanded. “We’ll sort this out in the morning.”

Kotoko squared her shoulders. “There’s nothing to sort out. He’s a murderer. I won’t lose to him.”

“This bitch tried to kill me. I’m not letting her get away with it.”

“I don’t care.” Kazui said simply. “Call it a draw. You’ll both tear yourselves apart if you keep going.”

They continued staring at one another as if their gaze alone could take them to the ground, but neither moved to fight. 

Mikoto felt a pang of guilt. Lost in adrenaline, he didn’t realize how banged up he was. He thought of how much pain he’d experience in the upcoming days. The whole point was to save himself from harm. 

Kotoko cursed Kazui for interrupting her. As one of the forgiven, he was supposed to be on her side. Even if he wasn’t honorable enough to see her as an ally, she’d have to be the bigger person. She wouldn’t threaten him. 

Neither was happy about conceding, but couldn't think of a better option given their end goals.

Kazui remained between them as they stalked off to their respective cells.

“A temporary draw,” Kotoko muttered to Mikoto. She flashed a grin that felt more like an animal baring its teeth.

He returned the smile. “You won't be so lucky next time.”

[fishnoodles]

when im weak to the devil it whispers to tell me to do an entire strokes fanzine. ok

[termagax]

anyways. i feel like ive said this before but i think that wouldve been a bigger concern of his when he was younger and was trying to think abt how he was gonna like. live in the world. well and then the world exploded and he decided he could do whatever he wants forever and started larping as his fursona and i think hes chill about it now. like i think hes okay.

[cathymee]

[not finished w/tonight's episode] ok but honestly how cool would it be if everybody would die from the poison. and the case would go unsolved for years

[distortedheart]

I read a fanfic which. I normally don't read any except particular random occasions and idc very much. Anyway. It was ~380k words so . Very long. and like it was really well written and fleshed out and I started it expecting to give up chapter 1 but immediately was like uh oh... my problems.. Anyway. I made it through literally all of that and it was heartbreaking and well written and then the ending was just like. Mediocre and unsatisfying. Reading all that for an unsatisfying ending... Well. Okay

[hcneymooners]

⋆ i am afraid i will love you forever.

ambessa x sugar baby!reader x sevika. men & minors dni.

synopsis: ambessa & sevika are married for business reasons but cannot stand each other. however, they love you—you who are unaware that they are together.

cw: age difference, older woman/young woman, polyam but is it really bc they just love you and not each other, sugar baby!reader, business moguls!ambessa & sevika, power dynamics, power imbalance (you're a sugar baby, lol), sw, pining, non-sexual intimacy, sexually explicit content, threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral sex (everyone is receiving at some point), masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom/sub, sub!reader, dom!ambessa, switch!sevika, mommy kink, strength kink, face-sitting, face fucking, possessive sevika & ambessa, y'all there's a lot of nastiness in here idk if i can warn for it all, discussions of sexuality, implied assault (non-graphic, within conversation), slightly dub-con, angst, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, arranged marriage, sexual tension, hate sex, bisexual!reader.

wc: 10.3k

PLAYLIST.

notes: y'all, i'm going to hell. i had fun with this. i have such a soft spot for plots like this.

ACT I: CONCEPTION. you were used to feeling like a guest in your own life, everything fleeting, everything temporary.

sugaring was something inherently lacking permanence, even in name. it was sweet for a moment, full of gleaming gifts that you accepted with perfect tears in your eyes.

you had more than enough money, saved from endless months in which you traipsed across the world in the hands of older men. maybe it was about the attention now, this idea that you were still young enough to be considered enticing without effort. maybe it was the desperation to wring what you could out of an age gap connection before you became the older one.

still, in the beginning years of your twenties, you found it increasingly grating. very quickly, you understood that the men were the main problem.

they were all the same: fleshy jowls wiggling as they chewed thickly through caviar and jasmine rice, their boisterous laughs sailing across tables when you attempted to join conversations. they took your interests and re-explained them to you, returning them pulpy and distorted as they attempted to convince you that you didn't understand them the way they did. their self-importance clung to them like cheap cologne.

the rare occasions where you actually slept with them were mercifully short, and you learned to suspend yourself out of your body. you would imagine hovering somewhere over yourself, banished to the lavish mirrored ceiling of the ritz or whatever opulent hotel they'd chosen. they shuddered awkwardly above you, and afterward, you'd come back into yourself only to scrub viciously at your skin under the unforgiving spray of the shower.

the women were different—usually. you found yourself drawn to their luxury perfumes and high society drawls. it was because of this that you dropped working through an agency—which you had originally chosen to better protect yourself from male clients—and began independent contracting.

you kept a private log of the ones you liked best. there was the private university professor (who was really a nepotism baby) who loved to wear le labo matcha 26 and smelled so deliciously of fig whenever she kissed you that you sometimes bought the fruit just to continue tasting her. her nickname for you was something in greek—μωρό μου, you think. moro mou. she told you it meant 'my baby', but in all honesty, she could have called you anything. you just liked hearing her speak.

you were a dreamy, distant creature. your appeal lay in your ethereal quality, moving through the world in a way that suggested you were detached from it. people described your presence as lingering, smokey and soft, like a fading perfume in a sunlit room. there was something endearing about the tilt of your head, the deliberate pause in your movements and speech as you stewed in thought, that made people stare a second too long.

you had plied yourself with romantic imaginations since you were younger, when you first grew to hate your mother. that hatred had led you across far waters into a glittering life of your own making. but you'd learned that women could be just as dangerous, if not more so. they could ensnare you, shatter your heart with just the flicker of a glance.

so, of course, this meant that you were bound to get caught in the tides of extensive affection at some point. you just didn't expect it to be with them.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the first sign should have been the unusual nature they coaxed from you.

you typically focused on one relationship at a time, securing yourself to a single person until you became too honest or too sensitive or too old. but with them, you fo​​und yourself with what you called a roster—a term your best friend and fellow sugar baby clleo (yes, two l's) took issue with during your weekly brunches.

"it's not a roster when it's only two women, [name]," she said, stirring her mimosa with a silver straw.

"it's more than one, no?"

"i feel like you have to have a minimum of three." she raised an eyebrow. "though i have to admit, even two is unusual for you."

the first was ambessa.

you'd met her when you weren't even looking, at some jazz show clleo had received tickets for from her newest beau. you had been perched inside the red velvet of the box, eyes roving over the insides of the other open balcony seats. you loved to observe, to look into others' lives and pretend they could be your own.

that night, you'd worn a navy slip dress that pushed the line of being dress-code appropriate, but it was comfortable and you had been tired. your hair was elaborately braided away from your face, threaded through with silk ribbons of the same color. despite its usually disagreeable nature, you'd managed to make it look elegant enough. your skin was littered with goosebumps from the fervent blasting of the air conditioning.

for once, you'd done your makeup the way you preferred it—less blushing ingenue, more cool nudes and a dark, bold lip. in the bottom of your purse sat two rolling bullets of lipstick: one a berry shade, the other a satiny red slightly subdued by a touch of brown pigment.

your feet had been curled beneath you, your ballet flats cast aside in the corner. the rounded tops were slightly scuffed, but you only saw it as a testimony of love. again, you looked out into the crowd only to find a woman looking back.

she was utterly beautiful, and your body flushed with heat for a moment, eyes wide like a doe. her skin was a dark, rich brown that gleamed with a sheen of oil and perhaps a shimmering body mist. her hair—black and streaked with thin rivers of gray—was pulled up into a tight bun, though the front was cornrowed. her mouth was full and smooth, a small gold cuff inserted in the middle of her bottom lip.

that night, she'd worn an oversized blazer over tailored pants. your eyes caught on her diamond cufflinks, and you felt your fingers clutch tighter around the bulk of your vintage ysl clutch.

she watched you with a sense of urgency, as if you might take flight like a bird and never return. bashfully, you turned back to watch the performance and clapped politely as it came to an end. her gaze never strayed from you, and as you rose to leave with clleo, you knew that she would be waiting.

you don't remember much of what happened after, of arranging the contract and indenturing yourself to her wealth. you only remember how she made you feel, her great body towering over you as she pierced you with her shrewd gaze. she'd cupped your elbow, pulled you gently to the side so that you were less in the way. the movement was easy; you trusted her with your body immediately.

now, ambessa reigned over the entries of your leather journal as your clear favorite. everything she did further endeared you to her, and you found yourself tumbling out of bed to check your phone where it lay on the floor, desperate for her messages. you watched the device all night, its flat body connected to a limp white cord plugged into the wall—willing it to ring.

and when she did call, you were almost delirious with joy.

ambessa's world was a carefully curated exhibition of power. noxus corp dominated the skyline with its obsidian tower, all sharp angles and tinted windows that reflected the setting sun like spilled blood. you'd learned early on not to ask too many questions about her work. the corporate merger making headlines—something about expanding into the industrial district of zaun—was just background noise to the way she'd trace your collarbone with cold fingers heavy with rings.

belatedly, in the midst of your betrayal and anguish, you’d berate yourself on your refusal to engage with real life when it inconvenienced you. you could’ve caught on, dived deep into the hole of information that was the internet as clleo did when taking up with someone new. but you didn’t, you just answered her call.

she liked to dress you up. tonight, it was a paper-thin black dress that cost more than your month's rent, the fabric liquid against your skin. you'd paired it with kitten heels that made soft clicking sounds against the marble floors—ambessa preferred when you were shorter than her, easier to maneuver, to possess. your lips were stained the color of coffee, and you'd lined your eyes with something dusky and soft.

the restaurant was the kind of place that didn't list prices on the menu, where the silverware felt weighty enough to be used as weapons. you liked this style of dining; it allowed you to escape further. you could pretend that since there were no prices, every morsel you ate was free and that the woman across from you was someone whom you loved and received love back from instead of bills.

“pull your hair back,” she commanded softly when you sat down, reaching across to brush a strand from your face. her touch lingered longer than necessary. “i want to see you properly. you should never feel a need to hide from me.”

you obliged, using the elastic around your wrist to gather your hair into a loose knot. the movement exposed the necklace she'd given you last week—a delicate thing of white gold and diamonds that probably cost more than your university education. her eyes darkened with satisfaction. she liked marking you with beautiful things, preferred to communicate through touch and gifts rather than words.

you preened under her clear pleasure. the idea that you’d done something right flowed through you, sweet as sugar as was the phenomenon of female favoritism. your tongue settled behind your teeth as she skimmed the menu, ordering for you as she always did. she seemed more aware of what you liked and needed more than you had ever been.

“are you alright with sharing the roast monkfish tonight, little lamb? i’m not all that hungry, so i think we should deal with something light.”

you nodded and she smiled, chucking your chin as she flagged down the server. you squeezed your thighs together, resisting the urge to rise from your seat and sit at her side with your head resting in her lap.

the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine you were unfamiliar with, which meant it was far more expensive than your beloved six-dollar gas station sémillon. as ambessa swirled the dark liquid in her glass, her phone buzzed. her expression hardened for a fraction of a second before smoothing over.

"business," she said simply, standing. "order whatever you'd like. i'll return shortly."

you caught fragments of her conversation as she walked away—something about zaun's infrastructure and liability concerns. one hour bled into two. the waiter refilled your glass with practiced discretion, and you watched the ice in ambessa's water melt completely. your phone remained silent except for a single text: an urgent matter requires my attention. car service will take you home.

the words blurred on your screen. you'd grown used to her absences, the way she could withdraw completely into her world of corporate warfare, leaving you adrift in these expensive spaces. but tonight, the emptiness felt sharper somehow. you had, more than ever, wanted her to take you home.

it was then that the woman entered the restaurant, right as you blinked upward to dispel the gathering tears. the air seemed to shift with her presence as she absentmindley looked in your direction.

she moved with the fluid grace of someone who knew how to handle herself in the cruel maw of this world, efficient and forceful despite wearing an expertly tailored suit. her left arm caught the light strangely—some sort of advanced prosthetic that spoke of military tech or private healthcare. a significant scar bisected her face, but rather than diminishing her beauty, it enhanced her striking features.

your paths crossed at the bar while you waited for a fresh glass of wine. she ordered whiskey, neat, and her voice was rough velvet.

"you're wearing that necklace wrong," she said, not looking at you directly. "the clasp should be centered at the nape. here."

before you could protest, her fingers—warm, unlike ambessa's—were at your neck, adjusting the chain. you caught a whiff of motor oil beneath expensive perfume. you swayed slightly, pressing into her touch. she steadied you with a single finger at the beginning knob of your spine, strong where you were momentarily weak.

"i'm sevika," she said, finally meeting your eyes. something in her gaze made your breath catch. you’d never seen eyes that grey. "you look like you could use something stronger than wine."

you smiled, albeit shakily, which avalanched into finding yourself talking to her about everything and nothing—about the book of poetry you kept on your nightstand for late night reading, about the way you collected vintage coats, about how you sometimes felt like you were floating three feet above your own life.

she listened with an intensity that made you feel anchored, present in your skin in a way you hadn't felt in months. her questions were sparse but precise, each one drawing out another story, another piece of yourself you hadn't meant to expose. and then she asked you to leave with her, and the answer was quick and easy. a light, eager ‘yes’.

the speakeasy she took you to was hidden beneath an auto shop, all exposed brick and piano medleys that wrapped around you like rope. in the dim light, you noticed the way her prosthetic arm moved with incredible precision as she gestured, the way her eyes softened almost imperceptibly when you laughed. she noticed you shiver and draped her jacket over your shoulders without comment, the leather still warm from her body.

"i manage specialized acquisitions," she said when you asked what she did, her smile suggesting there was more to the story. "currently dealing with some complex merger negotiations. but that's boring. tell me more about that poetry collection you mentioned."

you talked until your voice grew hoarse, until the early hours when the city felt like it belonged only to those who were lost or hiding. when she dropped you home, she fixed your broken porch light without being asked, her movements quick and purposeful. you found out later she'd also left her number saved in your phone under 's'.

what you didn't know—couldn't have known—was that across town, ambessa was returning to the penthouse she shared with her wife of six months, their marriage a carefully hidden clause in the merger agreement between noxus and zaun's industrial empire. their shared living space was largely ceremonial, each woman keeping to their own wing, intersecting only for appearances and board meetings.

that night, sevika found ambessa in their shared study, both of them surrounded by contract papers and acquisition reports.

"the zaun infrastructure reports," sevika said, dropping a thick folder on the desk. her wedding ring caught the light—a simple band worn only within these walls.

"you're late," ambessa replied without looking up. "the board expects updates by morning."

"i had a personal matter to attend to."

"as did i."

neither woman acknowledged sevika’s missing jacket which she never was without, nor the faint perfume—your perfume—that clung to ambessa's blazer. their arrangement was clear: their marriage was business, their personal lives their own. they had trained themselves not to care what, or who, the other did in their free time.

but that night, for the first time since their arranged union, both women found themselves thinking of the same person as they worked in silence. it was one of their more agreeable evenings together.

ACT II: GROWING PAINS.

“where do you go?”

you turned, half-lidded, your hair mussed into an untamed bird’s nest. sevika lay beside you, her smile a lopsided thing—teasing, warm, a little worn. you leaned toward her instinctively, pressing a lazy finger into the shallow dimple that cut into her cheek.

she caught your wrist before you could withdraw, lips brushing the tender pulse beneath your skin before pulling you into her chest. her hand slid across your stomach, warm and heavy, before it wandered higher to pinch your nipple just shy of too hard.

the two of you had met in a hotel, yet somehow, it felt less clinical than it should have.

“what do you mean?” you murmured, breath catching as her hand stilled.

“you go somewhere,” she said, “when we fuck.”

the words hung between you, and you felt your body shift under her scrutiny. her gaze trailed the uneasy motion of your shoulder blades as you shifted upright. honesty clawed at your throat, but you tried to swallow it back. you’ve never been the tiger, only the tiger’s bride.

“i often—” you broke off, tongue darting to wet your lips. her arm tightened around your waist, as if sensing your instinct to retreat. “i tend to disassociate when i do this part of things. i’m not—what i want, i usually can’t achieve. i don’t want to make it anyone’s problem, so i float.”

“float?” she repeated softly. her tone was unreadable, but you refused to meet her eyes.

“i pick a spot on the ceiling,” you admitted, voice small. “from there, i phase myself out of my body. it’s like it’s happening to someone else.”

sevika said nothing at first, and the silence thickened as you focused on the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. then, carefully, she shifted you into her lap, holding you there like a delicate thing. her lips found the center of your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart before trailing up to the vulnerable line of your throat.

“you do this with me?”

“not always,” you whispered. “you’re…different. you pay attention to me—what i need. only two other people have ever been that way. both women.”

“mmm. do you still see them?” her voice was calm, but you caught the subtle current of possession beneath her words.

“only one.”

“and?”

“it’s good with her. one of the best.”

“and what do you want?” she pressed. the question lodged itself in your chest. “you said you can’t achieve it.”

your cheeks burned, and you squirmed in her lap, but she held you fast. “i—this is embarrassing.”

“there’s nothing embarrassing about your desires, baby girl,” she murmured, her tone soothing. “i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want you to enjoy this too.”

“i do enjoy it, but…i’d like to go further. i like to go under.” you hesitated, then added, “you know that i’m—”

“submissive,” she finished for you.

you nodded, your voice softening as you continued. “i don’t really like the harsher aspects of submission, but i love being taken somewhere else—being softer. i love being told i’m good, that i’m doing well. i love being pushed past my limits, to the point where i’m…hazy. overstimulated. freed from my worries through my body, through the pleasure i give and receive.

“when you manhandle me, when you pull me close and push into me like you’re starving for it, when you break me apart with your mouth, i get so close. i hover in this warm heaven where i’m nothing but what i feel. you know?”

sevika’s expression softened, her face almost unbearably open. before you could process it, she moved, pressing you into the mattress beneath her. her broad frame blotted out the light, sheltering you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

“you are good, baby,” she finally said. “so good.”

her lips fell again to your neck and you felt her slide her thick fingers into the warm walls of your cunt. a sound slid from your throat, something gutteral and worn. she began to move, curling her fingers as if you pull you closer. there, in the back of your mind, was that heaven.

she kissed your temple, her lips lingering there as your body arched into her hands. “thank you for telling me.”

then, softer: “that heaven? i want to take you there.”

the words sank into your skin, heady and heavy, as if she’d whispered she loved you.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa had endured a long day—one filled with tedious negotiations and the peculiar frustrations of ruling over people who thought themselves her equals. she'd craved just one moment of quiet in her house, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

when she stepped through the door, the sight of her wife pacing their kitchen dragged a weary sigh from her chest. sevika's movements were sharp, her broad shoulders taut beneath the worn leather of her jacket. even now, after months of marriage, seeing sevika in their shared space felt like an intrusion.

for a fleeting moment, ambessa considered turning around, but she hadn’t built empires by running from conflict.

“sevika,” she began, voice clipped, “if this is about zaun’s profit percentage in the acquisition, i suggest you take it up with legal. i’ve no patience to discuss business tonight.”

“it’s not that,” sevika muttered, her tone bristling with frustration. “but thanks for your grace, medarda.”

ambessa’s eyebrow arched. “then what?”

sevika stilled, the weight of her gaze pinning ambessa in place. “are you the other woman?”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. then irritation flared, swift and hot.

“i thought we agreed we weren’t in love,” ambessa replied, dry as the desert. “who i see outside this house is none of your concern, unless it compromises our arrangement.”

sevika exhaled sharply, the sound edged with restrained anger. she reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone, its screen casting a gentle glow across the marble counter. with a few taps, she pulled up a recent conversation.

she paused, a smile stealing across her face as she took in the selfie you'd sent of you and clleo in matching milano blaniks. the tenderness in her expression was something ambessa had never seen before.

my feet hurt but it might be worth it!! you'd texted. she had responded in record time.

looking cute, baby girl. i like the purple.

me too! they had a navy and gold pair i would kill for, but i'm trying to be responsible.

sevika's smile deepened, and this time she sent a bank transfer along with her next message.

you can be a little irresponsible.

oh, sevi. that's not what i meant.

i know. i don't mind. get them both.

"i'm sorry, but were we not having a conversation?" ambessa's voice cut through the moment like frost.

sevika snapped back to reality, her face twisting into something ugly—the expression she reserved solely for ambessa. she selected another image, and ambessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing at the familiar necklace adorning your throat.

she recognized it instantly—it had rested on her desk just nights ago, a small token of indulgence she’d gifted you during one of your afternoons together.

you were smiling, beaming, caught mid-laugh. your hair was damp, clinging to your cheeks, and a sea lion nudged at your side. it was an image of unfiltered joy.

"she was talking to me the other night," sevika began, her voice tight as a wire. "mentioned some other woman. i thought it was a client thing, but then she showed me this." she gestured at the screen. "that necklace. it was on your desk when i saw you."

ambessa said nothing at first, her jaw working. finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with something like resignation. “i didn’t know. i assumed she might have other clients, but i didn’t pursue her because of you.”

sevika’s shoulders sagged slightly, but the tension in her face remained. she bent her head, palms pressing into the cool marble of the counter. “what the fuck.”

“does she know?” ambessa asked after a beat.

"what would it matter?" sevika shot back, her voice rising like tide. her gaze locked on ambessa, and her lips twisted in disbelief. "holy shit. are you in love with her?"

the question hit like a blow, but ambessa’s reaction was instant.

“as if you’re any better,” she snapped. her tone turned venomous, sharp as a blade. “you sulk through the door, reeking of her sex, then slink into the shower as if i can’t hear you simpering in there.”

sevika straightened, anger sparking. “and you’re what? innocent?”

ambessa’s laugh was cold, cruel. “i’ve never been innocent a day in my life. but you—god, sevika, you’re pathetic. you’re worse than i thought.”

sevika’s fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t lash out. instead, she held her ground, her gaze fierce. “what do we do now?”

ambessa hesitated. her mind raced through the implications, the potential fallout. finally, she crossed her arms, her posture stiff. “we don’t tell her.”

“and keep lying to her?” sevika’s voice cracked slightly. “how long do you think that’ll work?”

“as long as it has to,” ambessa replied, her voice low and final. “this arrangement isn’t just about her, sevika. it’s about us. about what we’ve built. if you care about her as much as you claim, you’ll think before ruining what little stability we have left.”

“for fuck’s sake, ambessa. she’s a sweet girl. she won’t—”

“you have no idea what she will do if she finds out,” ambessa hissed. “and i know how sweet she is. she’s the only goddamn person i know who can stand me. who do you think i’m really protecting?”

for once, sevika had no retort. the silence between them was loud, heavy, filled with unsaid things.

“i’ll handle it,” ambessa said after a long pause, her voice softer now but no less firm. “but don’t let your feelings make you sloppy. if you can’t compartmentalize, this will all fall apart.”

sevika turned away, her shoulders tense. “it’s already falling apart.”

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa didn’t sleep that night.

not because of sevika’s words—though they lingered like a sour taste in her mouth—but because of you. she’d grown accustomed to the softness of your skin beneath her fingers, the way your presence softened the edges of her world, made it almost bearable. and yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you might be nothing more than collateral damage in this carefully constructed house of cards.

the following morning, as sunlight filtered through the sprawling windows of her office, ambessa reached for her phone. her fingers hovered over your contact, her mind warring with itself. she’d always prided herself on her control, on her ability to compartmentalize. but now, for the first time in years, she felt the cracks forming.

her phone buzzed before she could decide, sevika’s name flashing across the screen.

“what now?” ambessa answered, her tone clipped.

“the gala,” sevika began, her voice unusually subdued. “this year it’s your turn to host, right?”

ambessa’s grip tightened on the phone. “yes. and what about it?”

“and,” sevika said, dragging out the word, “she’ll be there. she got an invite through one of her clients.”

the air seemed to still around her. “you’re certain?”

“positive,” sevika replied. “what do you want to do?”

ambessa leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the skyline. the decision should have been simple: handle the event with poise, maintain appearances, and ensure that you remained blissfully unaware. but something about sevika’s tone made her pause.

“we’ll stick to the plan,” ambessa said finally. “she doesn’t know, and she won’t find out. not from us.”

they both knew it was only a beautiful dream.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

and then suddenly, it was different. it was horrible in its subtleness, but enough to make you less comfortable than you were before.

you went to dinner. ​​ambessa watched you with eyes as sharp as her diamond cufflinks, and you wondered if she knew how small you felt in her presence. you let her brush her thumb over your lower lip, and you leaned into it, hoping she doesn’t notice your hands gripping your clutch too tightly.

“is something wrong?” you asked her, throat closing around the end of the question.

she seemed to startle, and leaned back with a shake of her head. you knew what was coming next. she was going to blame work or her family, which you barely knew about, or maybe something as clandestine as the weather. you suddenly felt entirely too sick. you took a sip of wine, eyes falling on the little brown bag that sat next to you.

every gift you unwrapped felt a little like a goodbye, the sparkle dulled by the unspoken terms behind it. you kept smiling, face stretching tediously through the pain though your heart was sinking because nothing ruined a good arrangement faster than too much honesty.

you must’ve overstepped somewhere down the line, and she had grown weary of it. you were sweating now, looking away from her. it didn’t help that your phone had stayed dark all evening, your slew of messages to sevika read and unanswered.

“i finished that book you gave me,” you offered and ambessa nodded. “it was lovely. a little macabre, but i managed to push through.”

“bessa?” you asked, voice small.

the nickname seemed to spur her back into herself and she reached across the table, clutching your hand. her rings pressed cold indents into your skin. you'd grown to love the weight of them.

"the annual noxus environmental gala is tomorrow night," she said finally. her thumb traced circles on your palm. "i'd like you to come."

your heart stuttered. she'd never invited you to a public event before. "another client already invited me. i’ll be there."

she squeezed your hand once before letting go, unfazed by the mention of someone else. "good."

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the evening was opulent in a way that made your skin prickle. the ballroom shimmered with soft golden light, chandeliers casting their glow across marble floors that reflected everything like still water.

you'd been invited by marcus—a client who preferred your company over dinner to discuss art and literature, who looked at you like you were made of gold but never asked for more than conversation. he was safe, a spiderweb you could free yourself from anytime without losing any skin.

your dress—a gift from ambessa—felt like a confession of infidelity. marcus had said nothing in the car, but his face had been momentarily confused. he kept track of what he gifted you, and he hadn’t seen this before. you offered no explanation, just smiled softly and held his clammy hand.

the fabric whispered against your skin with every movement, reminding you of her touch. you held your champagne glass like a shield, watching the bubbles rise and disappear, each one carrying a fragment of your certainty with it.

the past week had been strange. ambessa's usual sharp edges had softened into something almost tender, while sevika's messages had grown shorter, more distant. she’d eventually responded to the ones that had been read, but you felt as though you had disturbed her with them. you'd attributed it to work, to the upcoming shareholder conference business weekly had written about. you were good at making excuses for the people you loved.

and then you saw her.

ambessa stood on the stage like she'd been born there, her voice carrying across the room with the kind of authority that made everyone else feel small. her dress was long and white, with a delicate slit framing the plump skin of her thigh. it clung to her frame with an elegance that made your heart ache. you didn't want to admit how your chest tightened at the sight of her, how your body betrayed you with its instinctive pull toward her presence.

but before you could fully process the sight of her, another figure emerged from the crowd.

sevika.

she stood near the base of the stage, her broad frame impossible to miss. her presence was quieter than ambessa's, but no less commanding. the way she held herself—like she belonged here, like this was her world too—made something cold settle in your stomach. you shifted away from marcus, moved slightly forward with a furrowed brow.

it wasn't just their proximity—it was the way they moved. the way sevika's gaze lingered on ambessa, the subtle nods they exchanged, as if communicating in a language only they were privy to. and then, as if to confirm your worst fears, ambessa's hand brushed sevika's arm in a gesture so familiar, so natural, that the truth hit you like a truck.

the matching rings caught the light. the world tilted sideways.

the soft hum of conversation turned to static, the lights too bright, the room too warm. you tried to steady yourself, clutching the edge of a nearby cocktail table and nearly taking it down, but the weight of realization pressed down on you like a tide. marcus was asking after you, but you snapped at him.

you thought of the gifts—how similar their tastes had been. the way they both knew too much about each other’s companies, about each other's worlds. the little moments that should have added up but hadn't—because you hadn't wanted them to. you'd ignored the signs, wrapped yourself in their separate affections like blankets against the cold.

someone nearby whispered, "isn't that their…" the words trailed off, heavy with implication. you spun, eyes wide and searching. you couldn’t tell who had spoken.

the champagne glass slipped from your fingers. it didn't shatter—caught by a waiter's quick reflexes—but the sound of it leaving your hand seemed to echo through the room. both women turned at the noise, their expressions shifting from professional neutrality to something raw and complicated.

“do you know her?” the question came from a guest nearby, their curious tone laced with amusement.

the tension shattered. the murmurs began, the subtle shifts of the crowd as more guests turned to watch the unfolding spectacle. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the gathering noise like a blade.

“how long?”

ambessa stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a wounded animal. “it’s not what you think—”

“don’t,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “don’t you dare lie to me.”

sevika tried to intervene, her hand reaching out as if to steady you, but you recoiled, your fury spilling over. “you both knew,” you said, your voice rising. “you knew, and you let me—”

sevika tried again."baby—"

"don't." the word came out hard and cold.

you backed away, your heels suddenly unsteady beneath you. the crowd parted like water, their whispers following you like shadows. you felt that your dress was transparent, exposing your body to the their ravaging gaze. you made it halfway down the marble steps before sevika caught your arm. her touch was warm, familiar—everything you'd grown to love and now couldn't bear.

"please," she said, her voice rough with something like desperation. she couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to be desperate. "please."

"let go of me." you tried to pull away, but she was stronger. had always been stronger.

"we never meant—"

"what?" your voice cracked. "to hurt me? to make me look like a fool? do you think i love being a loser? that i would be fine because i would view this as some way of knowing what it was like to win?" you yanked harder, and suddenly you were falling.

the puddle wasn't deep, but it was enough. your dress—ambessa's dress—soaked through instantly, clinging to your skin like shame. you stayed there on your hands and knees, watching your tears make ripples in dirty water.

"stand up," ambessa's voice came from behind you, softer than you'd ever heard it. “come inside. we can—”

"no." you pushed yourself to your feet, water streaming from ruined silk. your makeup was running—you could feel it tracking down your cheeks, and somehow that small detail destroyed you more than anything else. for the first time in a long time, you felt ugly. "i don’t want to come inside."

when you looked up, they were both there. ambessa's perfect composure had cracked, showing something raw underneath. sevika looked like she wanted to reach for you again but didn't dare.

"were you laughing about it?" your voice was barely audible. "about how pathetic i was, falling for both of you?"

"no," sevika said quickly. "god, no. we didn't even know—"

"until when?"

"a week ago," ambessa admitted. the truth fell between you, landed hard.

you stepped back, barefoot now, heels dangling from one hand. "oh my god. were you ever going to tell me?”

their silence was answer enough. the air around you grew thin.

a scream rose up from the depths of you before you could stop it, and echoed wildly from the sides of surrounding buildings. you clutched at your face, eyes screwing shut as you let out a terrible heaving noise. you knew they were seeing you now as you really were: a frantic girl who clasped desperately at whatever she could get in order to save herself.

“i hate you,” you screamed at them, hurling the words like they were knives. “i hate you! i never want you to speak to me again.”

it was rendered useless because the three of you knew that simply wasn’t the truth.

“just—leave me alone,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

their expressions were unreadable. if you gave in to your delusions, you could believe that ambessa looked slightly ill.

you walked away, legs shaking, each step carrying you further from everything you'd thought was real. behind you, you could hear them arguing in harsh whispers, but you didn't turn around. the city lights blurred through your tears until everything was just a soft shape and shadow.

your apartment felt suffocating when you returned, the silence oppressive in its stillness. you sank onto the couch, your dress pooling around you like a shroud. the tears came in waves, each one more relentless than the last.

you thought of ambessa’s calculated charm, sevika’s quiet strength, the way they’d both made you feel seen, cherished. and then you thought of the lies. you reached for your phone, your fingers trembling as you typed out a message. but no words came. what could you possibly say? that you hated them? you’d done that. that you missed them already? that you wouldn’t know how to exist without them?

instead, you deleted their numbers, one by one, the act feeling both liberating and excruciating. for the first time in what felt like forever, you were truly alone.

your mother was right. you were such a fun girl, but impossible to love. when someone looked at you, they’d never see someone worth settling down with. another wail unearthed itself, reverberating through the grave of your body. you twisted, holding yourself with your own arms as you felt the grief break you down.

you would never see them again. there was nothing worse than this, not now. you felt like you’d be better off dead.

ACT III: DEFORMATION.

ambessa hadn’t slept in days.

the boardroom’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her sharp features as she reviewed contracts she couldn’t focus on. every word blurred into the next, her thoughts returning to the look on your face when the truth unraveled.

“i don’t think i can fix this,” she had told sevika the night it happened, her voice hollow as they sat in the dim confines of her private office.

sevika hadn’t responded, her silence cutting deeper than any argument could. ambessa could tell her wife blamed her, and in some ways, she couldn’t disagree.

sevika, in response, buried herself in her work. her nights were spent overseeing global operations, her jaw clenched tight as she barked orders to underlings down the phone who didn’t dare question her unrelenting pace.

but even the chaos of the company’s industrial sprawl couldn’t drown out the memory of you. the sound of your pleausre haunted her—high and wispy as she ate at you. her dreams were vivid, stuck on the way you’d lit up when you talked about the things you loved—things she hadn’t known enough to ask about.

they’d both lost you, and they felt it in the empty spaces you’d left behind.

ambessa, meanwhile, pulled back. she gave the reins to her daughter for an indeterminate amount of time, something viewed as largely positive and a sign of trust. but those who knew her interpreted it as a sign of grave danger.

her days were spent much like yours, wrapped in the endless heart of her bed which she only left to sink underneath the soapy water of a warm bath. there were several evenings where sevika would stumble home, slightly drunk but coherent enough to check on ambessa and yank her from the bottom of the bath.

“no,” she rasped, her hand tight on ambessa’s thick wrist. “you face it.”

and you?

well, eventually you realized that the world would continue to move on. blessedly, your breakdown hadn’t hit the headlines or social media platforms. you knew this had to be the work of them, but it was the least you deserved. you cut all arrangements you had leftover. the gifts were boxed up and put into storage.

despite your dramatics, you reminded yourself to not be stupid. all cash you had kept was deposited into your bank account, in increments so it wasn’t flagged as suspicious. you had well over thousands, so you broke your lease and found a block several miles from where you used to be.

you’d invited clleo to live with you, but she’d refused citing her current suitor as her preferred living situation. she felt that he was the one, that they would marry. you felt your bitterness rise up, but you shot it right in the middle of its scaled head. you were happy for her, you said instead of “he doesn’t mean it. please don’t believe him.”

please send an invite.

she’d cupped your face and kissed your cheek. of course. you’ve been with me through everything.

so, you broke another lease and left the city.

ACT IV: REVIVAL.

true to her word, clleo did get married, and she did more than invite you. you were her maid of honor; the only bridesmaid at that. this meant that you were captured into a lavish gown that showed more skin than you thought would be appropriate.

“we can’t forget where we came from,” clleo had said coquettishly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. she treated you so fragilely now, and you clung to it. you were pretending it was something else.

the wedding was a spectacle of opulence—ivory drapes cascading from every corner of the venue, chandeliers dripping crystal tears, and flowers so fragrant they felt like an embrace. the air buzzed with the cloying sweetness of a celebration meant to declare love eternal. you floated through it all, a wraith in your own right, bound by duty and the magnetic pull of clleo’s joy. you wore the dress she picked for you: black satin that crushed in on itself like paper whenever you moved and clung like sin, with lace so delicate it felt like a secret. it revealed too much and not enough all at once. you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, if she’d wanted you to stand out or to feel exposed. to embarrass you.

no, this was clleo. you were simply…paranoid now.

the ceremony was a blur, a kaleidoscope of vows and veils, of clleo’s radiant smile and the way her hand trembled in her husband’s. you caught the bouquet because she’d aimed it at you, her laugh like champagne bubbles bursting in the air. it was later, during the reception, that you felt it—that electric hum at the back of your neck, the awareness of being watched. you turned, and there they were.

ambessa and sevika.

they stood together, an impenetrable force against the crowd. ambessa’s gaze was as sharp as ever, her golden gown gleaming meanly, a study in power and restraint. sevika, beside her, had the air of someone caught between worlds, her hand resting on a glass of something dark, her eyes locked on you. they hadn’t been invited. you knew this because clleo would have warned you. yet here they were, as if summoned by the threads of some cruel, cosmic joke.

your stomach tightened, but you refused to look away. instead, you tilted your chin, the soft wave of your hair catching the light, and took a slow sip of wine. if they wanted to haunt you, they would have to work for it.

it didn’t take long. ambessa approached first, her steps deliberate, her presence cutting through the crowd like a blade. “you look beautiful,” she said, her voice low enough that it felt like a secret. you hated how your skin warmed under her gaze.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you replied, though the edge in your voice felt dull, worn down by something deeper.

sevika joined her then, her expression inscrutable but her proximity unnerving. “we needed to see you,” she said, her voice rougher, as if it cost her something to speak.

“at a wedding? how romantic.” you let the words hang, your lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “good thing it’s not mine.”

sevika’s lips twitched, and you scowled. your pain was not for her amusement.

“[name], we made mistakes,” ambessa said, and for the first time, there was something fragile in her tone, a crack in the glass. it distracted you from your ire. “but we haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

you set your glass down, your fingers trembling against the crystal stem. “i don’t think this is the time or place.”

“when is?” sevika countered, her voice steady but her eyes revealing something raw. “you’ve been avoiding us.”

“i said i never wanted to speak to either one of you again and yet, here you are,” you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the haze of alcohol and longing. “do you think crashing a wedding will fix what you broke?”

ambessa’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away. “we’re not here to fix it. we’re here because we can’t let it end like this. and it’s not crashing if the groom extends an invite at the behest of the bride.”

your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise of the reception faded into a dull roar. clleo’s laughter rang out from somewhere behind you, a reminder of where you were, of what you’d tried so hard to rebuild. why did everyone betray you?

“i can’t do this,” you whispered, stepping back. the movement felt like tearing yourself in two.

“baby girl,” sevika said, her voice low, almost pleading. “look at me. this isn’t some big scheme, okay? let’s talk. we don’t even have to do it here. we can go anywhere you fucking want. just like before, mama.”

you shook your head, the weight of their words pressing against the fragile walls you’d built around yourself. “i need air,” you said, your voice barely audible, and before they could respond, you turned and slipped into the crowd.

“[name!]” ambessa called.

fuck being the tiger's bride, you were the tiger. you stood your ground, kept walking.

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the gardens were quiet, the air cool against your skin as you leaned against the wrought-iron railing. the night sky stretched endlessly above you, an intricate canvas of stars that felt too indifferent to your pain. but the world wasn’t responsible for soothing you.

you’d thought the distance would help, that the cool air would clear your head, but instead, it only magnified the ache in your chest.

you heard them before you saw them, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. you didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge their presence, but you felt it—that charge, that unbearable pull that had slaughtered you repeatedly since the beginning.

“i didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“we’re not asking for forgiveness,” ambessa said, her voice soft but firm. “we are willing—we’re willing to take what we can get. we want to make this right.”

you turned then, your eyes meeting hers, and for the first time, you saw it—the vulnerability, the regret. sevika stood slightly behind her, her expression shadowed but her eyes fixed on you with the same intensity.

“and what does that look like?” you asked, your voice breaking despite yourself. “what could you possibly do to undo the damage?”

ambessa stepped closer, her hand hovering near yours but not quite touching. “we can’t undo it,” she admitted. “but we can promise to be better. to show you that you’re the only thing that matters.”

“you’re both so good with words. but words don’t mean anything if they’re not backed by action.” you laughed then, a bitter sound that cut through the stillness. “you always made me feel like i mattered. that’s why it hurt so much. i have no place between you.

sevika finally spoke, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “then let us prove it. on your terms.”

“you’re not good for me.”

ambessa glided forward, caught your chin inbetween her thumb and index finger.

“nothing in this world that we want with so much intensity will ever be good for us.”

you looked between them, your heart a battlefield between desire and self-preservation. the silence stretched, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. finally, you broke out of her grasp, a small, tentative gesture that felt like stepping off a cliff.

“i have no place between you,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper.

sevika's shoulders sagged with disappointment, but ambessa’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. she was like a bloodhound with weakness.

“is that what you want, lamb?” you looked up at her, sensing a shift in the air. “you want to be between us? coddled, warm, and safe?”

“ambessa—” sevika began, but the other woman held up a hand.

“you would’ve been fine if you had know that we were married from the beginning, hmm? is that it? your conscience would’ve been sated, right? because it’s not homewrecking or infidelity if the partners are aware of the others transgressions.”

“that’s not fair,” you snapped.

“mmm, well life isn’t. besides, you must be stupid if you think every client you’ve been with hasn’t once had someone waiting at home. this is your life, little lamb. your permanent affliction,” ambessa sneered. “i think you like it.”

you knew this game well. she pushed you, said the best things to make you act your worst. if you gave in, she won.

“fuck you, ambessa.”

“gladly,” she said with a small smile.

you scoffed, irritated beyond belief and moved to storm past her. by doing so, you gave her what she wanted. as you made an effort to leave, she cinched your waist with her arm and pulled you back into her chest. you could feel her breasts against your back, full and ripe like fruit.

“what are you doing?” you asked incredulously.

she didn’t answer, only hiked your dress up to press a ringed hand to your cunt. she held it there, groping the warmth of you until you were leaking in response. you let out a strangled squeal, legs kicking to no avail.

“see? you want us so badly. it’s like an instinct.”

you glanced at sevika, hoping for some fucking common sense but found her gazing at your lace-clad panties with something unfathomly angry lurking across her face.

“who the fuck gave you those?” she said quietly.

you stopped struggling, looking at her fully now. her stormy gaze lifted, piercing you like a spear through weak flesh.

“it wasn’t me, and ambessa never gifted you shit like this.”

“i had—i had other clients,” you answered and she rolled her shoulders, skulking forward. “but i bought these myself. i don’t see anyone else anymore. i can’t—i couldn’t. it was hard.”

her face softened at that, and she came closer. her large body covered the front of you, shielding your exposed body from any prying eyes. this meant that ambessa could slide the fabric to the side and dip a finger into your cunt. the slide was slick due to your drooling arousal, but the pain still startled you.

she was large, almost too much, but it seemed to burst a part of you that had been straining at its locks. you let loose a silent cry, shuddering desperately in her grasp as she explored you tenderly. sevika cooed, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss.

“hold on,” she murmured into your mouth and you clutched onto her, gripping tighter as ambessa gave you over.

sevika walked you over to a small alcove, expertly hidden from immediate vision and grunted as she held you up with one arm—removing her jacket with the other. once the concrete floor was covered appropriately, she lowered you on top of it carefully.

you released her, but barely had a moment to thank her before she was on you. your first thought was that it was like before: relentless, tender, and crushing. her hands slid up your thighs until they grasped at your hips. you rocked into her, moaning softly as she squeezed the soft meat of your stomach. your breath came fast, labored and fueled by aching.

“it’s okay, baby. ‘m right here,” sevika said, her voice low and firm.

she pulled back, spreading your legs till the pink of your pussy was revealed to her hungry gaze. it winked at her, clenching around nothing the longer she looked.

“jesus, i’ve missed this,” she murmured.

you flushed, body pulsing hot with flame. from the side of you, ambessa came prowling. she lowered herself to her knees, back arching neatly as she crawled into the apex of your thighs. her mouth descended upon you with a fervor, her lips closing around your clit and sucking. your back bowed until you were practically hunched over her, hands in her thick hair.

she only adjusted herself so that she could better lick into you, her tongue lapping at every crevice of your cunt. you were dripping all over her face, hips bucking as you fucked forward onto her tongue. her hands came to cup the peach of your ass, squeezing and tugging until you felt like nothing more than a piece of meat. after a moment, ambessa pulled back and laughed as you tried to follow.

“sorry, little lamb, but i need to know if i’m doing a good job” she watched you, eyes sharp. “i know you are.”

you shivered at that, and she smiled. impatiently, you further opened your legs and pushed your sopping pussy toward her.

“c’mon. please.” when nothing happened, you let out a groan. “you’re doing a good job.”

“who’s doing a good job?” ambessa asked, moving closer.

you shivered again, your brain beginning to mottle and smear.

“you are, mommy.”

“fuck,” sevika groaned.

satisfied, ambessa suctioned her lips back over you. you let out a high moan, pushing your chest out. sevika reached over, tugging the bust down and exposing your tits. your nipples were straining toward her, so she dragged one in between your teeth. with a cry of surprise, you slammed your thighs closed around ambessa’s bobbing head. she did nothing to open them herself, only slapped a hand on your inner thigh to get you to correct yourself.

“yes, fuck,” you cried. “fuck, please. please. ohhhh.”

ambessa shook her head back and forth, letting herself get messy as she pushed her face deeper inside of your pussy. you were fully fucking her face now, your clit engorged and begging. whatever filter you’d had before was gone now; your mouth ran like water from a faucet.

“yeah. yeah, mommy, like that. eat your baby’s cunt. lick your girl’s pink little pussy.”

ambessa moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your ass. you bounced as much as you could, that warmth coiling deep inside your stomach. sevika was still teasing your tits, but she had a hand inside of herslef now—her pants pushed down for better access.

when you realized she was trying to rub one out, you came with a primal grunt. ambessa attempted to pull back but you kept her where she was with a firm hand at the nape of her neck. breathlessly, you coaxed sevika up for a kiss and then pulled her away by her hair.

“i want you to touch her,” you instructed. your voice was shaky as you edged toward your second orgasm.

it took her a minute to register what you meant and you watched her cheeks darken, her eyes flickering toward ambessa’s rippling back inbetween your legs and then back to you.

“i know you want to, sevi,” you murmured.

your mind was almost gone now; you were so close to heaven.

you could see her warring with herself, but you also knew her love for you would win out. with a curt nod, she moved until she was behind ambessa and lifted her dress until she was face to face with her naked ass. with an efficent movement, sevika pushed ambessa’s legs open so she could smell the musk of her large cunt. there was a moment where you weren’t sure if she would obey, but then she dived in—licking a large stripe between ambessa’s folds. you seized around ambessa’s tongue as she squealed in surprise, your orgasm pouring from you like honey.

you puhsed her off of you and crawled onto all fours, squatting slightly to make the push of your fingers easier as you entered yourself. despite not pleasuring you anymore, ambessa made no effort to move as sevika slapped a hand on her ass as she slurped at her pussy.

“holy shit,” ambessa muttered and you grinned.

“have you—have you touched each other like this before?” you asked, voice breaking as you reached that spot long your walls. “did you fuck when i left to try to stave the guilt?”

there was no answer, but ambessa stiffened. you laughed, bright and a little unhinged. it was confirmation that they’d thought about, but had never actually followed through. you were in a squatting position now, positioning your hips as you rode your own fingers. you wrist twinged in discomfort, but you were more determined to cum for a third time.

faster and faster, you rode. your head was turned up toward the ceiling of the alcove, your tits bouncing as you began to crest that wave. you closed your eyes, focusing on the shaky inhales of ambessa and the wet squelches of sevika feasting on her.

there was a pause, so you opened your eyes and found sevika flipping ambessa over so that the bigger woman sat on her face. like this, she was even more insatiable. she rocked ambessa back and forth on her face, spreading her own thighs weakly as heat cascaded through her.

you weren’t sure what did it: sevika’s newfound desperation to actually fuck her wife, ambessa’s unrelenting eye contact as she came, or the high whine sevika released when ambessa leaned back to fuck two fingers into her frantically pulsing cunt.

but whatever it was ravaged you. you screamed as you came for the third time, legs trembling as you squirted all over yourself and sevika’s suit jacket. the comedown was impossible. you were incoherent, moaning wildly as the pleasure possessed you.

you heard them both scrambling to move toward you, but you held a hand out. your neck bent, your body settling onto all fours like a lame animal as you let your cunt flutter and clench through the remnants of your orgasm. your chest heaved frantically, but you were euphoric. you’d done it, reached Heaven and taken control.

you glanced up at them and know from the look on their faces, you’ve never been this beautiful. if this was what the french called a little death, you wanted to die forever.

“this is your place,” ambessa said hoarsely. “you belong right in the center. you are the only one who understands. you are our center.”

sevika lay next to her, and she said nothing for a long while. then her face turned toward you. you met her gaze unflinching.

“baby girl, please. please.”

you thought you were the loser.

“it has to be different,” you finally said. the two women broke into identical smiles. “it has to be. i want you to be transparent with me. i’m not a little child.”

you thought you were down for the count.

“like you said,” you continued, staring right at them. “you are my life. this is my life.”

but here you were, the last woman standing.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @venusiandyke @thatonetargaryen @drgnflyteabox @y2kas13 @baeumonde @blackdykegirlblogger @slut4sevika @sevikasllver @indigopearl96 @dut1fuldyk3 @imheadintothemountains @bambishaven @kirammansbow @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @nightlyconfusion @sevikasrightboob @half-of-a-gay @nsfwruru @yourlovesicklibra @tnash-tammy @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @bluferret @doppelman @savedforlaterr @sevikasserafim @fruitfulfashion @soniiyi @namuranguinhos @16novvs @bubblestrbls @spidercat-soccerfan @pllduniverse @sugrcookiiee @iwasholic @sevslefthand @starting6over @fxngsfxgxrty @leone007 @ambessaswhore @jvalentinelvr @bella-goths-wife @maaaaaaaaaaari @elena0497 @powderpinkandsweeet @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @pearldaisy @sevikas-whore @wolfessa @lazyartizt

[yourlocalsurrealism]

DP X DC PROMT: Happiness? In this Economy?

Dick convinces Jason to go with him to a party because he apparently "needs to socialize". At this party is also Danny, who is majoring in astrophysics at Gotham University. They run into each other, hit it off, and end up hooking up.

Danny has class in the morning, so he leaves before Jason wakes up, hurrying to get his day started and completely unaware of the fact that some of the ectoplasm he produces has seeped into Jason. (Neither of them tell each other their names, or maybe they're too hungover to remember? Idk, but they don't know each others names. It was also too dark for Jason to see Danny's face.)

Jason wakes up, wondering how the hell the cute guy from last night managed to leave without waking him up. He also feels happier than he has in a while, which he attributes to the fact that he actually had fun last night instead of scowling in the corner.

But the happiness, the calm, it just... Doesn't leave? For some reason?

At first, Jason is willing to accept that maybe the univers is just giving him a day off from the Pit Rage, God knows he's earned it, but when the end of the week is drawing closer and he's still no closer to figuring out why he's so goddamn pleasant all of a sudden, he starts to freak out.

He tracks this unnatural calm back to the party, and at first, he thinks someone spiked his drink. But the only people who were close enough to do that would be Dick, who would never do that, and his unknown, unnamed hookup.

Now, Jason isn't a very paranoid person, but he was raised during his early teens by the goddamn Batman, king of paranoia, so he immediately draws the following connections:

1. His unnamed hookup was able to roofie him without him noticing, bat training and all.

2. That drug, whatever it was, was strong enough to subdue the Pit Rage, and, seeing as it hasn't returned, that could be indefinite.

3. The only person who has ever been able to remotely control the Lazarus Pits is Ra's Al Ghul, and he still ended up a murderous sociopath, so obviously he doesn't have a good handle on it.

4. This random dude that he met at a goddamn college party may be the most powerful sorcerer in the world.

5. He need sto find this guy before she raises an undead army.

Thus, Jason finds himself in the awkward situation of explaining to his father that he may or may not have hooked up with a being more powerful than a man who runs an assassin cult and calls himself a demon.

The bats immediately begin searching Gotham for this guy, pulling out all the stops to stop this guy before they gain a new supervillain.

Meanwhile, Danny is peacefully going about his life.

Then, he runs into his one night stand and they start dating. Everything is going great for him! Moving to Gotham City was the best thing he's ever done!

Now Jason is even more panicked, because he just met this really cute guy, and now they're dating, but it's a horrible time because he's still trying to find this Eldritch creature.

Bonus ( to add to the misunderstandings):

Say Danny's trans. It's about now, a few months later, that morning sickness makes itself evident.

[oikarma]

love in the air

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you take your long-time friend as your plus one to your dad's wedding. you catch the bouquet. maybe that's when you start agreeing with the internet that . . . lando norris is a little more than a long-time friend to you.

a/n: thank you to anon for the request i had no idea they were dating LOL this was so fluffy

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tiktok

@/landossluttywaist I CANT BREATHE LANDO WAS AT THE SAME HOTEL AS ME

user1 you rich rich, then

user2 she probably gets paddock passes for doing her chores user3 guys why are we hating on this girl let her be excited 😭 i would be too

user4 what hotel is it?

landossluttywaist he's gone now (this was as he was leaving) but it was the four seasons in philly

user5 thanks for respecting his privacy and not posting until he left!

landossluttywaist lol i love him but at the end of the day he's just a human who doesn't need people hounding him 24/7

user6 but what is he even there for??? philadelphia??? there's ltr nothing interesting there...

user7 idk bradley cooper is the best thing to come out of that town user7 omg and also they won the super bowl user7 but that was a long time ago user8 maybe he's just an eagles fan

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liked by versace and 7,032,810 others

gigihadid My darling B, what a wonderful thing it is that we found each other. I can't believe we're now married — I'm still smiling, because such happiness carries on for a long time. You are so kind, so sweet, so caring, so utterly magical. I am beyond lucky to have you. Your belief in me makes me who I am today and who I will be. This new chapter will be a long life, full of laughter, full of a new family.

∞ Always, your G.

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yourinstagram i'm so happy for you and dad <33 you are an amazing person and you bring so much light to our family! your dress was gorgeous but even more so was you. hope you have a great time on your honeymoon

gigihadid I love you so much ;) Thanks for coming. There's so much love in the air!! 💐 yourinstagram hey, hey, we talked about this gigihadid I didn't make the rule user1 i love how well they go together user2 bro if my step-mom was gigi hadid. user3 wait wait wait did y/n catch the bouquet??? user4 omg

user5 actually radiant

bellahadid best wishes from your baby sister 💕

gigihadid ❤️❤️❤️ user6 do they know they're real user7 omg bella drop the fit i NEED to know what you wore cause gigi's dress is already blowing all my expectations out of water

user8 man if only bradley had insta

user9 this is how i find out bradley cooper and gigi hadid are dating whaaaaat

user10 me too girl me too

user11 why is this the only post with photos????? i need to see all of it

user12 maybe they agreed not to post until after a certain time or like gigi got to post first cause yk it's her wedding user13 bella posted!

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liked by lando and others

yourinstagram to the two of you 🥂

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user1 omg y/n paints?? did she do that?

yourinstagram yes 🙂‍↕️ i gave it to them as a sort of wedding gift! user1 aww that's so cute thanks for sharing with us <3 it's a beautiful drawing

user2 oh gosh that's such a beautiful place 🥺

user3 y/n were you at the bachelorette

yourinstagram hell yeah user4 we need the photos baddie yourinstagram maybe someday, lol

user5 wait where did they get married

user6 philly, the last pic is where they announced their engagement user5 ohhh no wonder

user7 lando you sly dog why are you in the likes

user8 well they're friends user9 dyt he went to the wedding user10 tbf wasn't he in philly a few days ago it's not crazy

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liked by others

f1gossipofficial Lando Norris was seen at the wedding of Gigi Hadid and Bradley Cooper.

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user1 I KNEW IT

user2 you guys are crazy 😭 how could you even tell those were him

user3 he's with YN IN ALL OF THEM

user4 where did these even come from

user5 isnt he dating magui??

user6 lando? user5 yeah user6 probably, but he and y/n are good friends user5 shit man they look good together user6 what do you mean these are all 120p quality

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liked by others

f1gossipofficial Formula 1's YouTube account posted a full video of Y/N Cooper and Lando Norris on a Hot Lap.

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user1 why is this gossip it's literally just a video

user2 the way he looked at her and she started screaming at him 😭 poor guy just wanted some eye contact

user3 she's so precious but jesus the amount of swear words out of that girl's mouth user4 lando wasn't even shocked he was like well lol oops

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liked by f1 and others

yourinstagram lucky

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user1 LANDOS LUCKY CHARM SPOTTED

mclaren might need to keep you around in the paddock more often

yourinstagram 😕 'fraid i have a job

user2 oh she knows shes hot

user3 someone tell her we're not in texas anymore

user4 who cares she served

lando photo credits where??

user5 stop being a pick me lando user6 yn is this man bothering you user7 he just needs everyone to know yourinstagram let me breathe lan i can't like all these comments trashing you fast enough user8 i love her already

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liked by others

f1gossipofficial Lando Norris and Y/N L/N after the Las Vegas Grand Prix

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user1 shit? shit!

user2 "we're friends" NO YOURE DATING

user3 are we sure that's lando?? it looks like y/n but we can't see the guys face

user4 yeah idk there are plenty of brunettes out in vegas user5 def yn tho shes wearing the same top in her last insta post

user6 she's so glad rn bradley doesn't have insta lol

user7 is gigi going to rat her out??

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you spot him slouched against the side of the taco truck, curls flattened from sweat and his own hands. there's powdered sugar on his lips. his phone's in one hand, the other holding a half-eaten churro.

lando sees you and his face changes.

"you came," he says, voice a little hoarse. "finally."

you walk up, wobbly on your heels, heart all over the place. "yeah. i had to. you were being dramatic."

"i'm hard," he says instantly. "and i missed you."

you nearly trip. "lando."

he shrugs, eyes dragging down your body without shame. "look at you. fuck. that top's killing me."

you’re giggling before you can stop it. "you're drunk."

"so are you. and you kissed me."

"you kissed me first, okay?"

"you were straddling me. in the club."

you pause. "you asked me to sit in your lap. you liked it."

lando nods. "loved it, yeah."

you're both quiet for a second. he's watching your mouth and you're watching the way his chest moves when he breathes. his hoodie's sliding off one shoulder and your fingers twitch like they want to touch him.

"you're so pretty it's making me insane," lando says. "like i want to fuck you and cuddle you at the same time and i don't know what to do about it."

you're breathless. "jesus."

"don't call him." your noses almost touch. "call me."

you laugh into his neck. "you're ridiculous."

"you're glowing" lando mumbles, hands sliding down your sides. "like. actually glowing. i can't believe i've known you this long and didn't do something about it."

you tilt your head back. "do something now."

he kisses you like you're a prize he's earned, slow, filthy, so hungry it makes your knees weak. his hands are all over--waist, hips, ass, back under your top like he needs to feel skin now.

you break away, panting. "lando, we're at a taco truck."

"yeah," he says, mouth all over your jaw. "so hurry up and let's leave. before i do something i'll get arrested for."

you grin. "you're such a slut."

"only for you."

he laces your fingers together and starts walking backward toward the street, still staring at you like you're his first and last meal.

"wait," you say, dizzy from everything. "what about your churro?"

"don't need it," he says. "got something sweeter now."

[dollgxtz]

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.