#if you don’t want to be tagged anymore please let me know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dame-zoom-a-lot · 3 days ago

Text

Peach Pie

Here's my fic for @steddieexchange for @stitchdfox (thanks for the prompts! This was a blast to write) It's also a prompt fill for @steddiebingo round one -- two prompts: lake, and fluff Rating: EXPLICIT Tags: Phone sex, Omega!Steve, Alpha!Eddie, a/b/o dynamics, blow jobs, dry humping, praise kink, aftercare, fluff and smut, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, platonic soulmates robin buckley & steve harrington WC: 9969 Thank you so much @fkinkindagauche and @talanashta for the beta and all the omegaverse advice. The phone sex scene was largely inspired by WabiSabiPapi's Pillow Talk. A lot of the scent descriptions were inspired by how Gauche handled it in Hot Knife

Read the entire fic on Ao3

“He shoots! And he…” Steve mutters, willing the Swedish Fish he just threw to land in Robin’s mouth. It’s almost there…

Then Robin moves two inches to the left and the candy hits her on the cheek.

“Robs. It was right there! Why?”

“You try holding still when there’s something flying at your face!”

“How am I supposed to get this in your mouth without making it fly in your face first?”

“Like you’re any better at getting it in your mouth,” Robin mutters, gesturing to the pile of sweets strewn about the floor.

It’s a slow day at Family Video. Slow enough that they’re trying to figure out some party tricks to impress Vickie. It’s not going great. Steve sighs and crosses ‘food catching’ off the list.

“Ok. The list is getting kind of short. You sure you don’t want to try keg stands?”

“Yeah right, Vickie’s going to be so impressed when I fall and break my neck.”

“It could be a good bonding experience you know? Let her take care of you and everything.”

“Nuh uh, you’re going to be switching out my bed pans.”

The bell rings before Steve can think of a retort. Vickie walks in with her usual bright smile. The patch Robin gave her sits prominently on her right shoulder. Robin erps. Steve tickles her to give her some cover for the deep blush on her face.

“Hey,” Vickie says shyly.

“Hi,” Robin stammers. Steve backs up a little when Vickie comes up to the counter. He and Robin practiced for this. She even made him put on a little red wig so she can really immerse herself. And yet.

Steve watches the two of them awkwardly stammer out a few stilted lines about band, frustrated beyond belief. He knows Robin can talk to Vickie. He’s seen her talk to Vickie. Besides, Steve knows Vickie also likes Robin. Why else would she be renting a movie a day ? Who watches that many movies? Weirdos, or someone trying to get into the movie shop employee’s over-sized pants.

“So Vickie, what ‘cha doing this weekend?” Steve says, unable to stand it anymore.

“I…” Vickie takes a beat, like she’s searching for a cool answer. “I’m going diving,” she says.

“What a coincidence,” Steve says with a smile, “so were we.”

“We are?” Robin asks. “I mean, we are,” she corrects herself.

“That’s… that’s great. So we can… if you don’t mind me butting in that is,” Vicky mutters out with a bright smile.

“Oh please, we’d be honored to have your butt—ing in,” Robin says. Vickie laughs, somehow charmed. Steve smiles and backs off to go pretend to organize the sci-fi section now that the two are talking about diving and weekends. A shameful part of him chafes at the thought of Robin actually getting together with Vickie. There’s going to be a lot less sleepovers, movie nights, and going up to the city. Or maybe Robin will let him tag along as a forever third wheel. Whatever it is, as long as Robin’s happy…

Steve’s wallowing so deep in self-pity that he misses Robin coming up to stand behind him. He shrieks at the sudden sharp finger on his pits.

“Ouch, my ears,” Robin complains as if it wasn’t all her fault.

“Jesus, warn a guy next time,” Steve gasps. Robin doesn’t give him a second to catch his breath. She pulls him into a tight hug instead, squealing loud enough to make his ears ring. “I’ll take it that you have plans?” Steve asks, laughing.

“Yeah dingus,” Robin says, letting him go so she can punch him in the arm, “thanks, I guess.”

“Yep, so I should have a horrible stomach flu the day before and not show up right? Let you get some quality time?”

“Yes, yes, but actually…” Robin says hesitantly.

“Actually what? Robs, you’re not asking me to come to your first date are you?”

“Well the thing is…” Robin draws a circle with her toes, face flushed, “i’mafraidoffish,” she finishes.

“What was that?”

“I’m…” Robin takes a deep gulping breath. “I’m afraid of fish.”

“You had fish with me? Last night?” Steve asks, flabbergasted. How did he not know this before now?

“Right but it was dead… It’s the live ones. Can’t stand the thought of them staring at me,” Robin says with a shudder.

“Robs, but you’ve… dived before,” Steve says, “when my leg cramped up?”

“That wasn’t a dive,” Robin retorts, “that was just me jumping into lake water. Besides, I was too focused on, you know, thinking you might die?”

A wave of intolerably strong fondness washes over Steve. Sure, he was touched back then when Robin threw herself into the cold lake water with zero hesitation. But he didn’t know that she apparently had a phobia of fish in waters, and that lake was full of them. “Robs…”

“Nope, nope, zip it. You sap.” Robin says, pinching his mouth shut with two fingers. “That’s not important. What’s important is, you need to figure out how to make me comfortable with diving.”

“I don’t know… close your eyes or something?”

“But Vicky’s going to point out cool fish and stuff to me and I need to enjoy it! Not freak out about the thing looking at me!”

“I don’t…” Steve looks around the shelves as if it might give him an answer. “What if… what if we practice?” He finally asks.

“Practice?”

“Yeah. Let’s… we’ve got six days right? We’ll go diving every day. Get you used to it. Then by the time you’re going on a date with Vicky you’ll be a pro,” Steve says, getting more confident with every word.

“You think a week is enough?” Robin asks quietly.

“Yeah! You’ve never actually had fish staring at you right?”

“No, they’re usually dead by the time they get to me.”

“Yeah! So you just need to try it out first,” Steve takes her hand and presses it to his heart, amplifies his scent so it can waft over her. “Look, you already said we’re the same person. I’m not scared. You won’t be scared. You get it right?”

“Dingus,” Robin says, lightly slapping his chest and squirming her hand away. “Alright. Operation sleeping with the fishes is a go.”

********* The dive shop is tiny and efficient. Every available inch is stuffed with various… stuff that Steve figures must be important. The guy at the counter is strumming something nice on a guitar. He smells like campfire and something Steve can’t quite name. Whatever it is, it’s loosening up the anxious knot in Steve’s chest.

He put on a brave face, but honestly, he’s as nervous as Robin. Sure, he was on the swim team, but that was in a pool. The last time he tried swimming in the open waters, he got a leg cramp and Robin had to pull him out. He hadn’t gone into a natural body of water since. That’s why he got here first, to scope things out and figure out how everything’s going to go. Otherwise, she’ll smell his nerves, then he’ll smell her nerves and it’s going to make him more nervous then her more nervous and so on and on, creating a flywheel of shit until they’re both a puddle on the floor. But he’s going to be ready. He’ll talk to that dude and he’ll make a plan. Steve takes the time to look around the cramped shop before clearing his throat.

The guy starts. “Hey! Welcome to Lover’s Dive,” he says, spinning a little too hard on his chair. He ends up turning himself a full 360 degrees and has to adjust, cussing under his breath. Steve stifles a giggle. “Sorry, let’s try that again,” he mutters, facing Steve. “Welcome to Lover’s dive!… Harrington?”

“Eddie?” Steve gasps. “Mrs. Click’s class right?”

“Aww you remembered little ol’ me?” Eddie says, batting his lashes and flashing his alpha canines. “Funny. I don’t remember us exchanging a single word.”

“And yet, you remembered me,” Steve mutters, pleased but flustered. Of course he remembers Eddie. Loud. Bright. Sauntering on lunch tables and daring his basketball team to come and bite him. Tommy hated him. Steve couldn’t look away.

“I thought you moved?” Steve asks.

“I did,” Eddie says with a shrug, “but…” he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’m back. Wayne’s friend wanted someone to man the shop while he dives in the Carribeans.”

“That’s nice of you,” Steve says. Eddie responds to that with a big, dimpled grin.

“So how can I help?” he asks, “you just here for equipment? Or you want the guided tour?”

“Guided tour please,” Steve asks. “I’m going to be coming around quite a bit actually. Robin and I were hoping to get better at diving.”

“Robin? Robin Buckley from band?”

“Yep. You knew her?”

“Yeah, great musician. Gotta say Harrington, your tastes have changed since we last passed each other in those halls,” Eddie says, leaning forward. “You be good to her. You hear?” He pantomimes cocking a rifle.

“We’re not dating,” Steve says laughing.

“Is that a yet?” Eddie asks with a gleam in his eyes. “This the old Harrington special?”

Steve groans. “Dude, we’re not in high school anymore. You really want to harp about the old ‘King Steve’?” he says, making air quotes, “very conformist of you, just saying.”

Eddie makes a strangled noise and clutches at his chest. Steve leans forward, alarmed, as Eddie sinks to the floor.

"Eddie?" Steve whispers. Did he kill him?

Then Eddie shoots back up with a giant dimpled smile. "It's me! Back from the dead after killing the old Eddie, a judgmental conformist." He awkwardly climbs over the counter, so he can get right into Steve's space. There's only dimples and campfire. Steve stops himself from trilling just in time. "So, my friend, let's do that again. Welcome to Lover's Dive! What glorious times are you hoping to have with your friend in these exalted waters?"

Eddie’s eyes are wild. His hair is even wilder. He’s put on some muscles after high school. The veins on his forearms flex. But that lightness, the refusal to quiet himself down and fit in to a nice little mold… that’s all still there. Steve feels the blood rushing to his ears…

“Munson. He’s my best friend,” Robin snarls from the door, “don’t fuck with him.”

“Noted, Lady Buckley,” Eddie says, exaggeratedly backing away from Steve.

“We were fine,” Steve says hurriedly. Robin scared the shit out of Dustin that one time he got too snippy about Steve being slow to read. He knows Robin wouldn’t hesitate to drive an air tank into Eddie’s head and he does not need that right now.

“So, what can I get you? Friend birds?” Eddie asks.

“Your finest tour if you please,” Steve says, trying to remember all weird fantasy English stuff that Munson and the kids seemed to get such a kick out of.

#steddiewinterexchange #steddie fanfic #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddiebingoroundone

25 notes · View notes

clarkeyhill · 2 days ago

Text

Consequences | Arthur Hill

Arthur and I had been together for a year. We had that kind of relationship that felt easy—built on laughter, trust, and shared traditions. One of Arthur’s quirks was his love for “splitting the G,” a Guinness drinking game where you try to drink the pint down to the middle of the golden “G” in the Guinness logo. It was silly, but it was his thing, and I adored him for it.

When he told me he was going on a boys’ holiday with George and Chris, I didn’t think twice. He updated me every day like clockwork—photos of beaches, beers, and their latest adventures. It felt like he was keeping me close, even from miles away.

Until the last night.

That night, the updates stopped. I told myself it was fine—maybe they’d just gotten carried away with their final hurrah. But then I saw the Instagram post.

A girl I didn’t know had tagged him in a photo. The two of them were standing close, her arm slung over his shoulder, grinning at the camera. The caption read:

“Met this guy and he taught me how he splits the G, many ways than one.”

The words hit me like a slap. I knew what “splitting the G” meant to Arthur, but what was the “other G” she was talking about? My stomach churned as I scrolled through the comments. People were laughing, teasing her, and dropping winking emojis. Arthur hadn’t liked or commented on the photo, but that did nothing to stop the flood of doubt and betrayal coursing through me.

I waited for him to text, to call, to explain. But there was only silence.

Arthur returned home two days later, dragging his suitcase into the hallway with a weariness I hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low.

“Hi.” I tried to sound normal, but my heart was already racing.

He was distant, avoiding my gaze, and his usual warmth felt replaced by something colder. I asked him about the trip, but his answers were short and guarded.

“It was fine.”

“Yeah, we had fun.”

“Nothing crazy happened.”

It didn’t feel right. He was hiding something, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Arthur,” I said finally, “I saw the photo.”

His entire body stiffened. “What photo?”

“You know what photo. The one with that girl. She said you taught her how to ‘split the G, many ways than one.’ What does that mean?”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his face pale. Then he sank onto the edge of the couch, running his hands through his hair.

“I messed up,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?” My voice cracked.

“I was drunk,” he began, his words spilling out in a rush. “We were playing drinking games at the bar, and she joined in. We were laughing, talking, and then… she kissed me. I didn’t stop her. I should have, but I didn’t. It didn’t go further than that, I swear, but I know I messed up.”

My heart sank. The image of them together, the way he looked at her in that photo, it all felt like a dagger to my chest.

“She kissed you? Just like that?” I demanded, my voice rising.

“I was drunk, and I let it happen,” he admitted. “But it didn’t mean anything. It was a mistake. Please, believe me.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. The man I trusted, the man I loved, had let this happen. How could I ever look at him the same way again?

I slept in the spare bedroom that night. I couldn't bear to sleep or even look at Arthur.

The next morning, I packed my things. Arthur hovered around me, desperate and pleading, but I couldn’t stay.

“I love you,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please don’t go. It was one mistake.”

“One mistake is all it takes,” I said, tears streaming down my face.

And then I walked out.

For weeks, Arthur tried everything to win me back. He sent flowers, texts, and letters filled with apologies.

“I know I hurt you,” one message read. “But please don’t let this destroy us. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Another said, “I’m not giving up on us. You mean too much to me.”

Each gift, each message, felt like salt in the wound. I didn’t respond. I needed space, time to figure out what I wanted.

Then, one day, a small package arrived. Inside was a single notebook. On the first page, Arthur had written:

“Our Story: The Reasons I Fell in Love With You.”

Every page was filled with memories. The way we met, the time I surprised him with his favorite concert tickets, the night we stayed up talking until sunrise. He’d written about the way I laugh, the way I scrunch my nose when I’m annoyed, and how I always leave notes in his lunchbox.

At the end, he wrote:

“I know I broke your trust, and I might not deserve another chance. But I want to spend the rest of my life making this up to you, proving that I’m the man you fell in love with. Please, let me try."

I closed the notebook, my hands trembling.

For the first time in weeks, I let myself imagine a future where we could work through this. Where we could rebuild.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to forgive him. But for the first time, I thought… maybe I could try.

🫶🏻

#george clarkey #youtube #george clarke #british youtubers #arthur hill

26 notes · View notes

lucienarcheron · 2 months ago

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXIII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note: Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoy this next chapter and where the story is going :)

thank you @elidelochans for always being my beta <3

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

When two days passed, Eris gathered with his brothers and mother in her garden. For this conversation, Iris stood by his side. He had carefully shielded their scents and if his brothers noticed, they didn’t comment.

He may trust them but as he shared a glance with his wife, Eris couldn’t help but want to keep this…gift to himself a little longer. If they made it through this, Eris would let himself reflect on how the Mother had a strange sense of humor; to give him Iris with the possibility of losing her.

Then again, the Mother knew this would be a hard fight. Sending his mate only gave him more reason to insist on making it out.

“You don’t think it’s too dangerous to be gathered like this in one place?” Lady Enya asked in the silence, her hands wringing in her lap.

“I glamored us as we arrived,” Eris assured her. “No one saw us coming in.”

But his mother was more nervous than usual, which added to his stress. Eris could tell she was tired and it made him want to choke his father more viciously than usual; that fucker knew his wife hated his guts and yet he kept his paws all over her.

Forcing the thought from his mind, his expression tight, he addressed his mother with a nod. “Are you prepared?” he asked. “Do you have everything you need?”

Lady Enya nodded, her hands clenching in her gown. “Yes,” she answered, clearing her throat. “I don’t wish to take anything with me but the clothes on my back. I have nothing of value that I shared with him.”

The words made him grimace. He knew his mother hadn’t meant her words to be about her sons but it didn’t stop the sting of knowing how she had held herself back. It didn’t hurt any less that she had endured all this because of them. For them.

The brothers shared a frown.

“I’ve checked with every one of my sources and nothing seems to be amiss,” Emil said, his arms crossed. “My soldiers are ready.”

Izak, seated next to their mother, nodded. “The same with mine. Everything is going according to plan.”

“What about Lucien?” Finn asked.

“I’ve been in touch. Everything is fine on his end.” Eris confirmed. “Winter and Dawn have given us passage to winnow from the court lines.”

“No questions asked?” Iris inquired carefully.

“Lucien has enough connections that no one bats an eye when he mentions he’s passing through with people,” he explained. “Especially when Helion and Rhys are welcoming. There’s no reason to object when there won’t be lingering.”

“Does Rhys know?” Lady Enya asked quietly.

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw. “Rhys has always known this day would come but he doesn’t ask questions. He knows it’s near.”

Finn shifted on his feet. “We’ve checked and triple-checked everything. Things are going according to plan and yet…why does it feel like something isn’t right?”

“Because we’re a bunch of paranoid motherfuckers.” Izak said then glanced at his mother. “Apologies, mother.”

The corner of Iris’s lips twitched as her mother-in-law rolled her eyes at her son and she couldn’t help but let her gaze shift between the brothers and their mother, feeling slightly out of place. This was her first time meeting Emil and Izak personally and other than an awkward greeting, they kept their distance; the tension lining Eris’s back and the way he watched his brothers with every breath they took near her had Iris do the same. Given what Eris had shared with her about each of them, Iris couldn’t help but have a soft spot for the brothers who were all trying to find the light with love as they battled their own demons. It didn’t change how close Eris had her stand and if anything, his brothers understood his possessiveness too well, even if they didn’t know to what extent.

The last two nights seemed to escalate his levels of stress and Iris had watched him have to expel his anger, nearly setting their whole suite aflame to get himself through the day. He’d leave her early and return late, checking in with her periodically throughout the day and whenever he did, they would end up releasing his stress in a much more intimate way. Iris had found that whenever his body was draped over hers, was the only time he actually relaxed.

Even in his sleep, her husband struggled and she found herself awake more often, watching him as he shuddered through every breath.

Iris kept her eyes on Eris as he ran his tongue over his teeth, sharing a look with Emil. “We did find one idiot who was ready to sell out,” he said carefully. “He was hoping to get in with the High Lord and rise through the rankings.”

“And what happened to him?” Finn asked, his tone casual.

“By the time Eris and I got to him, our sentries had let him know exactly how they felt about ruining our chances,” Emil said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “We aren’t the only ones desperate for change.”

“I would’ve cut out his tongue.” Izak huffed.

“Emil did,” Eris said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Then we hung him in the center of the training ring with a knife lodged in his throat.”

“That seems unnecessary.” Lady Enya muttered mildly.

But Finn nodded at them. “Nice.”

“You have a very odd definition of nice.” Iris said with a raised brow and Finn’s answering grin was a little too sinister.

“I would’ve carved out his internal organs to hang him by and then pinned his body to the wall with knives so he could bleed to death, slowly and painfully. What they did was nice.” he said and Iris couldn’t help her grimace.

“Please –” their mother started and glanced at Eris who sighed.

“Let’s focus,” he waved a hand. “We have another week before this hell is over. Keep straightening things out. If you hear even a whisper of something, you let me know immediately.” Eris glanced back at his mother. “We wait for the signal that Helene, Theo, and Cosette are fine. We dance. We mingle. Once Father gives his bore of a speech like every year, Emil will be walking you to where you will meet Mikel and then to where you will meet Iris and Oren. From there, you two will pretend to walk towards your gardens until you cross the gates. Serphan will winnow you to Lucien and then report back to me. Helion will also be waiting.”

Lady Enya swallowed, a hand rubbing her throat. “And they – Lucien knows what to do in case something goes wrong?”

Eris nodded then gave them all a pointed look. “Rumor has it that our youngest brother was invited and he may be making an appearance,” he said. “Should he need to use it, he knows the code. Each of our sentries has a uniform color. Lucien knows my insignia and who he can ask if needed.”

A silence fell on the group and Iris’s gaze couldn’t help but flicker between them all. She couldn’t imagine how long they’d been waiting for this and how these last few days were causing more agony than anything else.

Lady Enya broke the silence first, rubbing a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m – I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to be causing all this.”

A collective noise of disapproval rang from the brothers and she looked at them with a watery smile.

“But I am. I always will be,” she added, her grip tightening in the folds of her dress. “If I could stay and help avoid all this, I would but I — I can’t anymore.”

“Mother.” Finn chasted her gently and his expression tightened when Izak wrapped his burly arm around their mother’s delicate frame and kissed the top of her head.

“Don’t apologize,” Izak said. “We can’t keep living this way regardless.”

“Enough is enough,” Emil added solemnly. “We are more than what he’s forced us to be.”

Eris met his mother’s gaze. “You are a phoenix ready to rise from the ashes, remember?” he asked quietly. “Don’t look back now.”

Lady Enya glanced at each of her sons and then took a shaky breath. “You are all the light of my life. I am proud of each of you and know you will always be more than he could ever dream. Better than he could ever dare to be.” she said softly. “I love you.”

And Iris had to look away from them as each of the brothers, including her husband, flushed lightly at their mother’s words. But she could feel their content, felt how it filled them with joy and Iris felt an ache in her chest. She hadn’t met her own mother but Lady Enya had easily and so quickly filled that role. This wasn’t her moment and yet Iris felt so honored to be a part of it.

Clearing his throat, Izak gruffly mumbled, “We love you too.”

Lady Enya chuckled and patted Izak’s cheek. “I know, my beautiful boy,” she said, then sighed quietly, straightening. “Do not underestimate him. He will not respond well and I know he has something up his sleeve.”

“The bridal party waiting for us isn’t for nothing,” Emil mused. “He’s invited every influential family in the court and somehow, they all have eligible daughters.”

“We dance and we mingle,” Eris repeated his instructions firmly. “Lying is a form of art we’ve excelled at for years. It won’t kill you to dance with a potential bride to keep up the ruse.”

“Yeah, but Helene might kill me.” Izak mumbled and Finn snorted as Iris’s lips twitched.

“Considering Father might kill you first should you not dance, you’ll have to risk it,” Eris said dryly. “He’s surrounding himself with people like him for a reason. He believes in the strength of numbers and has purposely kept some of the guest list names from mother.”

“I think it’s a mighty coincidence that this particular ball is the one he’s having potential brides from powerful families attend,” Emil said. “If the High Lord is promising your daughter a prince, you’d be more than happy to side with a tyrant than against him.”

“It might not be to the extent that families have turned,” Finn said. “But it doesn’t help us if he has some of them present.”

Izak shook his head. “Those families have always been in his pocket, they keep each other comfortable. We knew this.”

“Those families are full of nothing but lofty words.” Lady Enya added. “Nothing in the preparations should change but I still don’t think you should trust them.”

Finn glanced at Eris. “Once we’re done with Father, we get to clean out the garbage, right?”

“Whoever does not bend to the new ruling will be taken out immediately,” Eris said, his expression tightening. “We know who these people are. They have one chance to make the right choice or they won’t live to make another one.” He glanced at each of his brothers. “This is the only shot we have to disinfect this court and make it into something worth living in. This is bigger than just us.”

“You should anticipate your father being there.” Lady Enya said to Iris. “He was one of the people the High Lord insisted on adding to the guest list and I don’t see Aron declining the invitation.”

Iris grimaced, her fists clenching at her sides. “I have no doubt he’ll be there,” she said then glanced at Eris. “Even if he knows he’s not wanted.”

“Especially if he knows he’s not wanted,” Eris muttered. “He knows what awaits him should he step one toe out of line.” And he forced himself to roll his shoulders back, pushing back the surge of anger thumping in his chest at the mention of his father-in-law. He glanced at Izak instead and waved a hand for a letter to appear then flicked it to his brother. “Lucien let me know this morning that Helene and her mother have been settling in nicely. She sent you a letter.”

Izak caught it and held it tightly, nodding at Eris. “Thank you.”

Eris nodded back and then glanced at Emil. “Cosette?”

“She’s ready to leave.” his brother answered tightly.

“Adler?”

“He knows his orders.”

Eris nodded again and ran a hand through his hair. “We have to be on guard for anything.”

“I know.”

Eris shifted as he stared at his family, feeling the blood pumping beneath his skin. “If –”

“Eris.” Emil’s calm tone cut through his. “We’ve done every single thing we could. The only thing we can do is set it in motion and make it through.”

Taking a breath through his nose, Eris let his head fall back, his eyes on the open air above them. “I won’t pretend I’m not filled with dread and it’s been getting harder to tighten the leash on my powers,” he mumbled then fixed his gaze back on his brothers. “I set fire to one of the stables yesterday because Father made a snippy comment.”

“What a pity he wasn’t standing in it,” Finn said, his lips twitching and Eris snorted.

“Pity, indeed.”

Iris’s gaze locked on Eris and his tightened shoulders and she couldn’t help stepping closer to him, her hand sliding to his back as she leaned into him. He glanced at her with a thin smile then cleared his throat, addressing them all.

“He’s going to make this a hard fight. We fight as dirty as he does.” Eris said firmly. “Whatever it takes.”

It fell silent as his brothers nodded. His mother’s eyes welled up again, and Eris had to look away from her so it didn’t pain him. He glanced at Iris instead, and even though her smile was a small sad one, it managed to loosen a breath from his chest. Whatever it took, he would crawl his way out of this and back to her.

“Well,” Finn began and Eris let out a long-suffering sigh echoed by Emil and Izak. “He can’t kill all of us, right? One of us has to survive him to continue the Vanserra line.”

“Finn.” Eris warned as their mother made a noise of distress.

“What? I’m only reassuring you once again, that if the task comes to me, I would be happy to marry all your lovely ladies and take care of them should you all bite the dust at the ball,” Finn said graciously.

“Don’t you have a certain someone in your life?” Iris asked, holding back a laugh and Finn waved a hand good-naturedly.

“He’s very reasonable, you’ll love him,” he reassured Iris as he wiggled his brows at her. “You won’t mind having sister wives, right? As the wife of my oldest brother, you would be my first wedded, of course.”

Before Eris could do more than snarl rather viciously at his brother’s teasing, Iris held a hand to her husband’s chest and raised a brow at Finn. “It’s sweet you think you can handle one wife, much less three,” she said then turned back to Eris. “If you bite the dust as your brother says, I promise I won’t marry him.” She patted his chest gently. “But, you’ll be perfectly safe so there’s nothing to worry about. You don’t need to punch him.”

Eris scowled then narrowed his eyes at Finn’s smug smile. “I still want to punch him.”

“We can save it for another day. When all this is over.” Iris couldn’t help but glance at the rest of them. “When we’re all safe. You can punch each other all you want then.”

“Your wife is an optimist,” Emil noted, tilting his head at her curiously. “What a fate to be married to a Vanserra.”

Iris’s lips twitched then made a show of stepping back to run her gaze down Eris’s body and back up. Eris’s brow lifted as she made a noise of approval. “Well, he is pretty so it balances out all the struggle,” she said and Eris rolled his eyes as she turned back to shrug at his brothers. “It isn’t much, but it’s honest work.”

Izak’s head tipped back with a laugh as Finn hooted and Emil couldn’t help his chuckle.

And Eris wanted to devour her when she gave him a cheeky smile that made him roll his eyes again. “Hysterical,” he deadpanned, the tips of his ears heating at his mother’s small smile.

“I told you she was funny,” Finn said to his brothers.

“My wife’s jokes and Finn’s enthusiasm to marry females who won’t want him aside –” Eris began, warning Finn with a look when his brother opened his mouth. “We’ve lingered enough, I think. Should anything else come up, be quick and be discreet.”

The brothers let themselves slowly disperse with Emil vanishing first then Finn. Izak delayed for a moment and approached Iris with a thin smile. Eris’s brow quirked up as his brother ran a hand over his beard, his expression curiously cautious. “I just wanted to say…I think you and Helene would get along well,” he said and glanced at Eris before meeting Iris’s gaze. “It’s not easy being married to a Vanserra but…I think you two could be friends. If – if you wanted.”

Iris’s smile was warm. “Based on what Eris mentioned to me, I think so too. I look forward to meeting her when I can.” she said then added quietly, “Congratulations on the pregnancy.”

Izak flushed, pleased as he nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see you again at the ball.”

As Izak departed and only his mother remained, Eris gave her a moment as she took in her gardens, her expression tight. He knew this place had always been a sanctuary for her and though she’d be leaving it behind for a better place, he knew it wouldn’t be easy.

“Mother.”

Lady Enya turned towards him. “Yes?”

“If needed…will you be ready to use your magic?” he asked carefully and his mother took a breath, nodding.

“Yes. Whatever I can do, I will support your every step,” she said, her expression shifting into grim determination. “Whatever it takes, Eris.”

He nodded at his mother then shared a glance with his wife and Iris’s smile was tight as Eris promised, “Whatever it takes.”

Eris blinked and as the ball crept closer, he barely slept. He went about his daily routine, spent time with his wife, and plotted through the night. He tried to be more relaxed, tried to stay focused but as everything slowly came together, he couldn’t help but anticipate that something would go wrong. He’d readjusted his plan with Oren, Mikel, and Seprhan twice already; he was driving his friends crazy.

The feeling intensified when it was finally the night before the ball and his Father summoned him to the throne room. Eris had hesitated for only a moment in front of the door, the memory of the last time he was summoned here lingering in the back of his mind. But he forced himself forward and allowed himself a glance around the room as he walked towards where his father stood, taking in the splendor of decor as he went. His mother always outdid herself with the way she planned for these events. He knew how this particular event was one of significance and didn’t miss the little signs around the room. The abundance of gold. The wisps of fire magic. The miniature phoenix art scattered around the room. His lips couldn’t help but twitch.

Eris paused a healthy distance from the High Lord who stood with his back to him, facing the throne. As his Father deliberately took his time to acknowledge him, Eris ran his tongue over his teeth and made himself take a deep breath, schooling his expression into that careful calm he desperately needed around his least favorite person.

After a few moments of silence, Eris clenched his fists behind his back and cleared his throat. “You called, Father.”

Beron glanced over his shoulder and then made a noise of disapproval as he turned to face his son. The two watched each other in silence and though Eris was used to his father’s mind games, something about this summoning felt…sinister.

Beron gestured for Eris to come closer and immediately, his shoulders couldn’t help tensing further.

But Eris moved and stopped at the place Beron had pointed to, right in front of him. “Do you know why I called you here, son?”

“I really hope it’s because you missed me,” Eris said with a thin smile. “Otherwise my feelings will be hurt.”

Beron snorted. “Funny,” he said and shifted his head slightly as he watched Eris. “I wonder if you get your humor from your wife. I hear she’s very funny.”

A beat of silence passed and Eris felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest. “Pray tell, who has been passing along her jokes?”

His father’s answering smile made Eris’s fists tighten. “The wind carries all kinds of whispers, son. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

The moment stretched between them and Eris tried to keep the beating of his heart calm as his father watched him. What did that even mean? Who was talking?

The High Lord’s mouth curled and Eris tried to tamper down his agitation as his father added, “Then again, everything about your wife would be a secret if it was up to you.”

Eris’s expression flattened. “Are we really doing this again, Father?” he said and tried to keep his tone even. “I thought we were past this.”

“Of course, of course,” Beron said casually. “Though how sensitive you are about her is still concerning, I suppose we have other things to worry about with our big event tomorrow.”

Tension lined Eris’s spine as he watched his father watch him, every sentence loaded with words left unsaid, and Eris’s mind scrambled to catch it all. “Indeed,” he said carefully. “What can I assist you with, Father?”

“Always so eager to assist, son,” Beron said. “Sometimes I forget just how much.”

Eris’s gaze narrowed slightly in confusion. He didn’t want to believe his father was bored and wasting his time like this. Eris could barely keep awake these days; with this last night, he wanted to be alone with his wife. His mate. He wanted that fucken time with her.

Yet here he was, squandering that time with this.

“Is there anything about the event tomorrow you’d like me to do? I do believe everything has been taken care of.”

“I didn’t call you here for that.” Beron said and Eris lifted a brow.

“If not that, to what do I owe the pleasure of being here?”

The words seemed to cause a slight shift in his father and Eris noted exactly when his expression went from amused disdain to anger.

“You overstep and I tire of it.”

Eris blinked. “Oh?”

“You are my eldest son. I acknowledge that a certain load of responsibility has been expected of you and even added to your shoulders. You have always done your duty as required and yet…” Beron pursed his lips, his gaze narrowing. “The past few months, you have overstepped so very often.”

Eris forced his expression into polite indifference. “Is there something I did in particular that bothered you deeply enough to summon me?” he asked and his father’s eyes narrowed. “I would like to ensure I apologize profusely for my errors.”

“You and that fucken mouth of yours.” Beron snarled and backhanded Eris so quickly he barely took a breath, his face snapping to the side and Eris nearly swore at the sheer force that went into his father’s hand.

Oh, the High Lord was pissed to be this triggered by his tone.

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth, slowly facing his father again and he knew there was nothing to be done about the anger that coursed through his body – anger he knew the High Lord felt despite the bland expression Eris managed to push through on his face. “That seemed rather unnecessary.” he managed to say lightly, even though his fisted hands were shaking violently behind his back. “Was it something I said, High Lord?”

And this time when his father lifted his hand in warning, Eris leaned back, his expression flattening again. “I can handle words, Father. You don’t need to put your hands on me to tell me when I’ve supposedly wronged you.”

His father’s mouth curled in anger and the High Lord stepped into Eris’s personal space even further. “Back away from me again and a flogging pole will be the least of your worries.”

A strained silence pulsed in the air between them and Eris knew he was venturing into dangerous territory when he couldn’t hold in his humorless laugh and his father’s eyes narrowed.

“And get blood all over the floor? That wouldn’t be the kind of welcome you’d want to give our guests.”

Beron yanked Eris by the front of his tunic. “Keep speaking in that sarcastic tone and your body hanging by the gates will be what welcomes the guests instead.”

Eris felt his fire nearly burst out of him, his anger shooting up his spine but he held that leash on his magic and held it tight because he wouldn’t blow up here. Given the kind of pressure he’d been under the last three weeks, it would be so fucken easy to unleash everything and be done.

But no. Not now. Not when they were so fucken close. Not when they could wipe the slate clean in front of the whole court and step into a new age with history on their side.

Nevertheless, Eris couldn’t stop the steam from pouring out of him and he certainly couldn’t stop his glare when his Father’s cold smirk appeared.

“I don’t know if that would match the theme Mother’s going for this year.” Eris said tightly as he tried to reign in his anger even as Beron’s answering chuckle was laced with cruelty.

“You keep speaking to me that way and your mother will have more things to worry about than her tacky theme.” Beron spat then shoved Eris back. “Fix your face and apologize.”

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw as father and son stared down one another. They had barely started talking and his father was already goading him just to lay hands on him. Had the High Lord sensed anything amiss? What was it that seemed to be putting his father in such a foul mood?

Eris’s hands remained behind his back, flexing his fingers then fisting them again as he forced himself to bow his head and as calmly as he could choke out said, “Apologies, High Lord.”

Beron’s head cocked to the side. “An apology should come with a full bow, boy. Do not disrespect me.”

Eris’s expression blanked immediately and he forced his body not to react negatively, not to tense further. His well of power would not be blown away on this. This was nothing. He’d tolerated more.

So forcing himself once more, Eris bowed fully to his father and said as dull as possible, “Apologies, High Lord.”

His father said nothing for a moment and Eris took the opportunity to glare at the sparkling floors they stood on. When another minute ticked by in silence, he couldn’t help but lift his head to find his father smirking at him. And that was never good.

Especially when he opened his mouth and said, “Your wife says my High Lord. You should say it the way she does.”

Eris’s body straightened before he could stop himself, his vision going red and the only thing that managed to hold him back from ripping his father’s throat out was the laugh that slipped out of the High Lord’s mouth, mocking him.

“You’re so easy to rile these days.” Beron taunted. “Which goes to show you how bad of an influence that wife of yours is.” Giving Eris a sly look, his father continued, “Maybe you should pick out a new bride tomorrow.”

Eris didn’t bother fighting back his eye roll, despite how much his clenched fists were shaking. “This conversation is getting tedious, Father,” he said curtly. “May I please know what it is you wish to discuss with me?”

The High Lord’s expression filled with contempt as he stared down his son, the silence between them was heavy with trepidation.

“Tedious, you say.”

“Yes. We both know there are about a thousand other things we could be doing instead of this little dance between us.”

Beron made a disinterested noise. “I had no plans other than to fuck your mother this evening. Though her lack of enthusiasm doesn’t make it as enjoyable as it could be, it is better than nothing.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eris snapped and nothing could stop his fists from catching flame. “Show some respect when you speak about her.”

And Eris knew his father’s fist would fly out. He let it. He let the taste of blood fill his mouth as he staggered back a step from the blow. His father seemed to be spiraling. He had lashed out at stupid things before but this? To this extent? Eris felt the pit of his stomach give out. Could it be that something had slipped through the cracks?

“I will speak about my wife as I see fit. You do not get to insert yourself between us.” Beron spat and Eris wiped a hand at his mouth with a huff of disbelief. His father’s expression of disdain remained as he took a step closer to his son. “This is your problem. You are always inserting yourself in places you don’t need to be. You do it with your mother. You do it with your brothers. You did it in a meeting the other day with our council while I was in the room.” The High Lord glared and Eris had to fight with all the willpower he had to calm his shaking hands – to smother his flames. “You know why I called you here? To discuss how you intervened between me and your brothers the other day. An intervention I did not welcome.” His father’s gaze raked over his face. “I’ve tolerated your overstepping in the past because you followed orders – you get things done. However, I will not tolerate your overstepping tomorrow, especially in front of the many important guests that will be present. You will remember your place and watch how you behave.”

The High Lord’s voice was nothing but a lethal threat as he said, “The next time you get between me and your brothers so carelessly like that, you will take the brunt of their discipline.”

Eris tried to keep his expression from shifting at the promise filled with violence. This whole conversation was bringing all the stress he had been carrying and crashing it down on his head. It seemed that indeed, his command of his brothers had finally seemed to bother his father enough that he was finally saying something about it. What convenient fucken timing.

Beron’s expression morphed into one of cruel amusement. “Your hair is only just starting to grow out. It’s too early for another new look, don’t you agree?”

And the warning was clear – a reminder of what the High Lord would be happy to do again in this very room.

Eris pursed his lips, his heart thundering in his chest at his father’s gaze filled with violence as clear as the tone he used. He nearly choked as his magic surged up again, desperately wanting to answer it but instead, Eris forced himself to breathe slowly, the leash on his magic held tight as he said carefully, “I merely wished to help, Father. I didn’t realize it would bother this much.”

“I do not require your help to make your brothers fall in line. You should be falling in line with them.” the High Lord snapped. “Your help has become an insult.”

Eris’s jaw worked and again, he forced himself to bow his head graciously even though he wanted to do anything but – his father had already laid his hands on him twice; he couldn’t afford to keep giving him reasons to lash out. So Eris only said, “Duly noted.”

Silence stretched between them and Eris waited, knowing a threat was coming up. His father liked to play games and loved to waste his time. Minutes ticked away and Eris couldn’t help the flare of his nostrils when his father’s mouth curled up.

“Eris.”

“Father.”

“Tomorrow is a very big day,” Beron said slowly and took a step closer to him. “I’d hate for things to go wrong should any of you decide to do something foolish.”

A chill skittered down his spine but Eris’s expression remained politely bored. The comment didn’t have to mean anything. His father didn’t know anything. The High Lord was only lashing out because Eris hadn’t said the right things to him, because he wasn’t being as careful as he could be. He would blame it on the stress and would not let himself believe anything else.

“Other than drinking excessively,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, “I don’t foresee any trouble.”

Beron hummed, watching Eris in a way that always made his skin crawl. “Your father-in-law will be in attendance. I expect you and your wife to behave accordingly.”

Annoyance flashed on Eris’s face before he could stop it. “I am aware. He’ll do well to steer clear of us completely, Father. That is my only request to you.”

“And if I refused?”

Eris forced his expression to blank pleasantness again, noting the movement of his father’s hands. “Then I cannot promise there won’t be trouble should his path cross ours.”

“Is that a threat, son?”

“Never, Father,” he said with a small smile. “I am merely setting expectations.”

Beron’s eyes narrowed and it was a deadly type of silence between them, the type of silence that Eris knew, had his father not needed him to be presentable tomorrow, Eris’s face would’ve met his fire rather than his fist. “You were my favorite son.” his father said quietly. “I do not like who you’ve become.”

Eris could only slowly shrug his shoulders. “I’m sorry to be of constant disappointment, Father,” he replied and wished he could tell his father exactly how sorry he was – how much being the so-called favorite had cost him.

Beron scowled and grabbed Eris’s face with a hand, tugging him closer. “Do not think I haven’t noticed how abysmal your attitude has been lately but I will warn you one last time,” his father said quietly, enough violence in his tone that Eris knew not to move. “Should you do anything that isn’t a direct order from me – anything that isn’t what I expect of you, I will make you pay in ways that’ll be worse than your nightmares.” Beron shoved him back and Eris couldn’t help his expression darkening at his father’s glare. “All this family has ever been is disappointing. Let’s hope you and your useless brothers don’t make matters worse for yourselves tomorrow.”

The High Lord shoved past Eris but paused half a step away and Eris turned his head without a word, only raising a brow at the loaded silence between them.

But then his father’s nostrils flared and Eris felt his blood run cold. He didn’t dare breathe and mentally checked his shields, knowing he had reinforced it around his scent before he came anywhere near his father, and yet…what exactly was the High Lord sensing?

His father merely gave him a once over then spat, “I’ll see you and your wife tomorrow. I hope you remember to make good choices.”

And the High Lord’s goodbye felt like a promise full of death. Eris waited a few moments in tense silence, his blood thumping in his ears and when he was sure he was indeed alone, he closed his eyes to let out a deep shaky breath, feeling steam rise from his hands. His anxiety had returned in full force at his father’s departure. His father couldn’t have sensed anything, could he? Eris had glamoured his scent well; no one could note his mating bond, especially without Iris near him. If his father had scented his wife on him, that wouldn’t be unusual but Eris was too careful even for that.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and let himself linger for another moment, eyes flickering around the room, letting himself see it as it was for the last time. With a sigh, he turned on his heels and left the throne room.

He needed to warn his brothers.

–

Iris watched as Eris finally stepped into their suite and slammed the door behind him. He had taken longer than she had anticipated and the anxiety that had been squeezing around her chest immediately loosened when she saw that he was whole and unharmed. Her heart had stopped when Eris had told her about the High Lord’s meeting and the only reason Iris had survived waiting was because she distracted herself on the piano.

Everything was supposed to be set. Everything was in place and yet, the tension that seeped into the room with him made her nervous. She hated that what could be their final night together was filled with such emotions.

She rose from her place on the piano and walked over to him then stopped in her tracks, noting the slight bruise on his cheek, the cut on his lip. “What happened.”

Her voice was more hushed than intended but if not for that, Iris knew she would start to panic. She moved closer until she stood before him and let her healing senses reach out, not wanting to touch him just yet – not until she was sure he wanted her touch at this moment. But she sensed nothing amiss aside from the evidence on his face and had to swallow when she met his blank stare. “What was this about?” she asked softly.

Eris had to calmly count to ten and let out a long breath before he could speak, “I seemed to have gotten under the High Lord’s skin when I supposedly overstepped and intervened between him and my brothers the other day.” he explained and Iris watched with a grimace as his fists tightened at his sides. “He wanted to remind me of my place and to watch my tone because apparently, my sarcasm doesn’t translate well.”

“So he finally noticed and said something about it?”

“Funny how he’s always benefited from me doing all his work for him and now has the nerve to get annoyed by it,” Eris grumbled then shook his head. “He wanted to warn us – me to behave tomorrow.”

Iris felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Warn how?”

“He wanted to make sure I didn’t intervene in my brother’s whore parade so they could pick wives.”

Iris brows furrowed. “Given that they’re all in committed relationships, I don’t think it’s going to go the way he wants.”

“Hopefully, by the end of the night tomorrow, he’ll be dead and we won’t have to worry about him at all,” Eris spat and rolled his head back, breathing deeply and Iris felt his frustration seep off him.

She frowned and stopped in front of him, assessing his expression then reached out a hand to gently touch him. She waited a heartbeat, giving him the chance to push her hand away if he wanted to but Eris couldn’t seem to help but shudder at the touch, and after a moment’s hesitation, he turned his face to kiss her hand softly. “You’re almost there. Tomorrow, you all will be free of him. You’ve prepared as best as you can.” she said softly, letting her magic wipe away his hurt.

“I know and yet, I don’t feel prepared at all,” he said quietly and Iris had never seen his eyes so tired. “I feel like it’s going to all go to hell and I’m going to drag you all down with me.”

Iris cupped his face and forced him to meet her gaze. “Everyone is ready to go down swinging with you, Eris. This is not on your shoulders alone,” she said. “Please…unburden yourself.”

He shook his head slowly and pulled her hands from his face to hold in his own. “My head isn’t wired to do that,” he said. “I’m thinking about all of the things that could go wrong.”

“But what about all the things that could go right?” Iris asked, squeezing his hands.

Eris’s chuckle was weak. “How I ended up with an optimistic wife really is a comical event. You truly did marry into the wrong family.”

The corner of Iris’s mouth lifted. “Fate does work in mysterious ways.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, then took a step back, his expression shifting. “Do you have all your items prepared for tomorrow? Aside from the bag we sent ahead to Lucien and Elain’s.”

She tried not to let her face fall and nodded. “I have a small satchel and daggers to hide beneath my dress.”

“You know where you’ll be meeting Oren?”

“Yes.”

“And the drop-off location where you’ll winnow to reach Lucien?”

“Yes, Eris,” she said wearily. “We went over all this in the morning.”

“And we shall review it again tomorrow. I cannot take any risks when it comes to you.” he said and Iris gave him a knowing look.

“I know,” she said quietly. “Do you want to try and get some sleep? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Eris shook his head, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. I’m too tense. Too nervous.” he said and licked his lips, glancing at her in a way that made her pause.

She waited a heartbeat then asked, “...Is there something else?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his expression tight but with a sigh, Eris explained quietly, “When he was walking away from me, he paused a step away and…seemed to sense something in the air next to me.”

Iris froze in his arms. “And you think that means…he knows something?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Why else would he do that? You mentioned in the stables he seemed to sense something around you. What if he sensed something from me? What if he knows?”

“Eris –”

“Iris, I can’t – how can I —” he growled and his grip on her tightened. “If he knows and pulls some shit tomorrow that would harm you in any way I —”

“Eris.” Her tone was firm enough that it made him pause, his expression stricken in a way that made her chest ache for him. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“How can you –”

“And what if he does? What does it matter?” Iris asked. “Tomorrow, things will change regardless. What does it matter if he finds out about our bond now?”

Eris’s expression fell and his whisper was hoarse, “Because this is the one thing – you are the one thing that is all mine. I don’t want his mark on it.”

Iris felt her heart crack, the same way it always did when she thought of the way he’d lived his life constantly on edge, constantly thinking and planning and scheming. She didn’t want this particular night together to be this way. He needed some peace and Iris needed him just as badly as he needed peace.

“It doesn’t matter what or if he does anything,” she said quietly but not weakly. “I am yours and you are mine and whatever tomorrow brings, we will face it. He doesn’t get to win.”

Eris struggled not to tremble at her determined gaze. That he had someone to worry about was one thing but to have someone — her — worry about him like this? He could truly never bring her peace and yet – she looked at him like this. Like she lov— loved him.

As he loved her.

“What do you need?” Iris found herself whispering, reaching out a hand to gently touch his face again and a thrill always did go through her at how many times she could make him shudder with her touches. Iris waited, watching as he worked his jaw, swallowing before his eyes met hers. Without saying anything, she could feel his every emotion and concern. The thread at her ribcage was a path to his every thought and she gently tugged at it as for once, her husband let his emotions flicker across his face. The panic, the worry, the desperation, and Iris would do anything to bring him ease.

After an eternity, his response was a broken rasp, “You. I only need you.”

Iris softened and stepped closer, Eris's arm immediately wrapping around her waist to pull her into him. “You have me,” she said softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I am here, with you. I am yours.”

He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly, without saying a word, the look they shared conveyed exactly what he needed – wanted, and always craved. He needed her in every way. He needed to only see her tonight. To only feel her.

Her eyes didn’t waver from his as she slowly slid a hand down his chest. She knew exactly what he needed to be able to get through this night and Iris wanted nothing more than for them to feed into their feelings. Her hand continued down, past the waistband of his trousers until her hand wrapped around his impressive length and Eris hissed as she squeezed him, slowly pumping. His arm tightened around her, tension lining every inch of him even as their mouths were a breath apart.

“Tell me what you need,” she whispered but Eris couldn’t do anything but watch the blush across her cheeks, trying not to have his eyes roll back as she tightened her grip. His breath stuttered as she leaned in closer to him, pumping him leisurely as she spoke, “Do you want me on my knees? Should I take you in my mouth?” Eris groaned and closed his eyes, leaning into her slightly when Iris quickened her pace and then slowed down. “Tell me what I can do to make you feel good.”

“I want you everywhere.” he rasped and opened his eyes, his gaze filled with a desperate kind of heat that Iris felt seep into her bones. “Anything you want. Everything you’re willing to give me. I want this night to be just about you and me. For nothing else to matter.”

“Then nothing else has to matter right now,” she said softly. “It’s always just you and me.”

Eris licked his lips, his request for permission written all over his face, and every desperate thought and emotion he had spilled into his next word, “Please.”

All it took was a nod from his wife and any restraint Eris had snapped. His kiss was as desperate as he felt, chasing her lips and Iris whimpered into his mouth, her hands digging into his back, quickly backing her into the table of their dining room.

“I — I can’t be gentle right now.” He said urgently in between his kisses, his hands moving as quickly as hers, both trying to undress the other. “If you don’t want that — please tell me now I don’t want to —“

But she held up her hand and Eris froze immediately, breathing heavily with her barricaded between his arms. Tonight, there would be nothing gentle about their coupling. With how high stakes everything would be tomorrow, all Iris wanted – needed was him. “I don’t want gentle," Iris said quietly. "I want whatever you'll give me.”

The demand in her tone had a noise he never thought he could make slip from his throat and Eris surged forward to claim her lips once more, searing himself into her.

His hands couldn’t move fast enough; he shoved her dress down her body, undergarments with it and Eris only got a second to admire her body before getting distracted by Iris’s own hands practically ripping off his clothing and in an instant, he helped her send them flying. He turned her around, pushing her body down and Iris hissed at the sensation of the cold table to her heated naked body. She couldn’t help but lean forward even further, presenting herself to him, and couldn’t stop the mewl that slipped from her lips when he smacked her ass.

She looked over her shoulder and found Eris’s eyes on her, spreading her legs and Iris couldn’t stop the arch of her hips, biting her lip with a soft moan when his fingers slipped into her already wet folds.

“This is going to be hard and fast. I promise to be nice to you later but now…now I need to fuck you, wife.” He said and the low tenor of his voice made her hips arch back further, her breaths in time with his fingers teasing her entrance. “You understand?”

“Then you better fuck me hard, mate.” she said and Eris’s breath shuddered as she whispered, “I’m all yours.”

“Brace yourself,” was all he said before Eris thrust into her without preamble, and Iris let out a ragged moan, clutching onto the table as he had her. Eris fisted a hand in her hair and fucked her at a vicious pace and she could do nothing but bend over further for him, whimpering helplessly.

Her body took him and his brutal pace, Iris groaning as Eris grunted into her ear and Iris felt her impending release slowly start to build. The sensation of his tight grip on her hair, his other hand firmly on her back to keep her down was fueling a lust like never before in her.

It made her realize that she desperately liked it when he unleashed himself on her. That in fact, she loved that he was fucking her like this, especially as he thrust into her so hard again, he hit a spot she hadn’t thought existed until him.

Looking over her shoulder, her breath quickened at the sight of the fire blazing in his eyes as he claimed her.

“Husband.” She gasped and Eris’s eyes snapped up to her, the hand on her back sliding to her ass and squeezing.

“Wife.”

“Harder.” She demanded and Eris’s eyes glazed over, the words driving him into a frenzy. He growled so deeply, goosebumps erupted all over her and the hand fisted in her hair pulled her head back so he could claim her lips, bruising her with a kiss.

“Gladly, mate.” he purred.

She shuddered and tried to meet his pace but Eris had unleashed himself completely and her husband was gone. Pushing her down fully on the table, the grip on her hips was deliciously painful as he thrust wildly.

There was no hope for her to catch up and Iris happily let him claim her, her release creeping closer – knowing how much they needed this with all that tomorrow would bring. The sound of his heavy breathing, the sound of their bodies meeting, and finally when he smacked her ass hard enough she knew there would be a mark, Iris shattered with a delicate cry.

Eris grunted and didn’t give her a moment to shudder through her climax as he pulled out, his length hard and wet with her release. He turned her over so fast and before she could realize what was happening, her husband had her flat on her back on the table.

Yanking her to the edge, he spread her legs for him and slapped her cunt, rubbing the slickness of her release in her folds. “I didn’t ask you to come.” He purred, his tone just a little mean and Iris arched her back off the table with a throaty groan as he slapped her sex again. “You like it when I slap your cunt, wife? Your cunt that belongs to me?”

But Iris was having a hard time getting her mouth to form words and could only breathe heavily, nodding.

“I want to hear your answer, little gazelle.” he growled and slapped her cunt again, the sting a little harder and Iris cried out.

“Yes.” Iris wouldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed at the whimper that left her lips when he did it once more with a savage grin.

“That’s my good girl.”

Iris’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as his hips snapped into hers and held, the sensation so overwhelmingly good she could already feel another release building.

The blaze in his eyes become more prominent, predatory as he pulled back only to pound into her again, his thrusts frantic and the pace merciless, watching her take his cock; a choked sob slipping from Iris’s lips when he pushed her legs further apart and held down, the angle deepening his reach. Her hand slid to her clit and his smirk was wild as he watched her play with herself, her pace trying to match his.

“You take me so fucken good, wife. I need to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see the way my cock fills you up. So you can see how your swollen cunt drips with need for me.” His voice was guttural and Iris bit her lips, the words only igniting more fire in her – more want. “You like it like this? You like it when I lose control? When I fuck you like an animal?”

“Yes.” She breathed and Eris clenched his jaw, his thrusts now desperate.

“My hand — your throat.” his words were barely understood as another choked whimper slipped from Iris and she begged,

“Please.”

Her plea had Eris’s hand slide to her throat and Iris’s mouth fell open at the sensation of his grip tightening slightly.

“You like that?” He ground out, snapping his hips into her hard enough, it caused her to shift back onto the table slightly.

But Iris could only gasp as he pulled her back to the edge of the table with a growl, his grip on her throat heightening all her other senses, her free hand clenching the hand on her throat desperately.

“I’m —“

“I’ll have you dripping all over this table momentarily, wife.” He snarled. “Patience.”

And Iris let him lose himself inside her as she lost herself in him. The feeling of being at his mercy like this would’ve had her breaking out in hives once upon a time but now she trusted him so thoroughly that giving him this type of control — control he needed – was so freeing. She was free falling and the sound of his rough grunts as he fucked her senseless sent her right over the edge once more with a tight moan.

“I said pati — fuck.” He growled and his thrusts became even more erratic as she clenched her walls around him, her body bowing off the table with a silent scream, her release coursing through her.

“Eris.” She whined and the sound of his name whispered from her lips undid him.

Eris cursed, pumping hard as he spilled himself inside her and Iris watched him through hooded eyes, relishing the way his eyes closed, the hand not on her throat gripping her thigh tight enough she knew it would bruise. He leaned over her, resting his head in the crook of her neck, his breathing unsteady as his thrusts slowed and Iris could only moan softly when he pressed himself in her and held again, his cock still pulsing inside her. Her thumb caressed the hand still wrapped around her throat and Iris licked her lips, pleasure still coursing through her.

When he finally opened his eyes and pulled back slightly, the sight of her underneath him, splayed beautifully, almost had him come again; he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her, and judging by the way her walls still tightened around his shaft, Eris was sure she didn’t mind. He loved being inside her, loved it when she warmed his cock.

The fingers around her throat stroked her neck gently before he let go and peppered it with soft kisses that earned him a breathless sigh from his wife’s lips and he couldn’t help his small smile when he pulled back to meet her gaze.

And Eris felt his whole being crumble when she smiled softly at him and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing her with such tenderness that Iris felt her heart break a little. This was the way it was between them – a little rough balanced in with a little soft; she was the only one who made him realize how much he needed that softness.

She pulled him closer with a hand on the back of his neck, the other on his chest, and wrapped her legs around his waist, the movement pushing him deeper inside her, and Iris had to bite her lip to swallow the wanton sound she knew would come out of her mouth. But she wanted to wrap her very being around him and keep him close to her heart, where he would be safe and whole and hers. She wanted him forever like this, in her arms as he kissed her and touched her and looked at her like she was the only one who mattered.

Their kiss deepened and when he shifted slightly, she wasn’t sure who made the breathless noise between them as she tightened around his cock again.

He shifted slightly, brushing a hair out of her face. “You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you?” he gasped and Iris giggled.

“I’m only giving you what you wanted.”

His gaze was smoldering and Iris felt her whole body heat as they shared a breath but Eris forced himself to pause, his eyes roaming her face. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly and Iris felt his nervousness start to creep up. “Did I —“

“You didn’t hurt me.” She said immediately and leaned up to leave a quick kiss on his neck, running a hand down his chest. “I liked it. I liked it a lot. In fact –” Iris slid her hands up his toned arms then down his back slowly until they settled on his backside and she squeezed, digging her nails into his flesh. Her cheeks flushed as he groaned, rocking into her. “I think you and I are far from finished.”

Eris’s eyes flashed with desire as her words ignited a fire within him; she always knew what he needed without saying a word. His wife. His friend. His mate.

She was his and he was hers and Eris – who had never even dreamed of this, would hold on to this glowing thread between them like the lifeline it was.

“You’re right,” he said and his voice was a sensuous caress as he leaned closer. “I am far from done with you, little gazelle.”

Little else was said as the two moved, and there was nothing soft about this claiming, nothing gentle about the need and desperation in their touches. Everything would change tomorrow and Eris couldn’t stop himself from letting himself be all wrapped up in her. For having this night of forgetting.

And Eris promised himself he would do whatever it takes for their tomorrow to have a tomorrow. Whatever it takes to bring them peace. Regardless of how many pieces he had to break himself to do it.

#eris vanserra #eris x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfiction #gfics #smtb chapters #hope to hear your thoughts in the tags/comments :)#to all my silent readers I love you and cherish you and I hope to hear from you!!#if you don’t want to be tagged anymore please let me know #no hard feelings :)#very long day otherwise this would've been posted earlier.#also debating whether to continue only posting it on ao3 because I’m a little burnt out from this tumblr rn #so if you haven’t subscribed to the story there I highly recommend!#had to repost lol

54 notes · View notes

goldkirk · 4 months ago

Text

hey this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular but I’m saying it for the record here: if I tell you no, please stop messaging me about fundraisers and mutual aid.

I get enough messages that it’s impossible for me to keep up without devoting at least half an hour each day, when I’m not even on tumblr that long most days. Me having a boundary about this isn’t a moral failing, it’s a lifeboat for me on my own blog.

In my personal life I’m already advocating and donating literally as much as I can spare. This is not me not caring, it’s just me not willing to interact with that on the one place I go online to not interact with irl news and world events for the most part.

I cannot be upset all the time. I cannot be upset everywhere. I cannot use all my emotional and mental energy fielding my own upset from ongoing events. My options are to hold boundaries about this or stop coming online at all.

I’m all for sharing information and signal boosting to reasonable extents, but the scale of it this year is so large and so enduring that it is literally not possible to for me to participate on every account I have. I’ve previously shared links to Gaza eSIM donations and a major hub of verified Go Fund Mes here and elsewhere online. We, the online humans, know how to look those things up ourselves by now. There are many, many people choosing to do advocacy work, and right now, I can’t be one of them.

If you’re extremely upset when I tell you I can’t share/donate right now about a Gaza family or personal fundraiser you ask me to share here, just unfollow and block me. That’s what those buttons are for. Protect your own emotions and energy and get me off your feed instead of staying upset and continuing to engage with online people or content that upsets you.

Please don’t send repeated angry messages based on manufactured purity politics and moral outrage into my messages and inbox when I exercise the right to run my own blog.

#and on that note #I also think some people need to sit down and ask themselves #if their old end times anxieties and fears and preparations and word spreading #haven’t filtered straight into a new non religious end of society and end of modern world order anxiety that they’re pushing on other peopl #even if it is the end times #you cannot change that by beating your own anxieties into other people’s heads #people can care MORE when they are GIVEN ROOM TO BREATHE #first rule of sustainable activism is you can’t do it constantly and you can’t push it on people constantly #you have to pace it and you have have have have HAVE to play long games #short term activism burns you out and if it leads to full despair from burnout it can get you killed via depression #it’s not a joke #there’s a reason your elders have books and community lore about healthy activism even in times of crisis #they lived it. they learned from it. learn from them.#spend your time doing things that can make real impacts.#do little things online but unless you’re an actual information hub you shouldn’t be posting constantly about it #people won’t even want to follow you anymore eventually because that’s not why they followed you #and then you have no audience for your important message anyway.#I know this. I learned it myself on other accounts.#please. stop. harassing me.#how is harassing me going to make me MORE willing to change my mind and post? just because you demanded it?#I am an autonomous person #this is my ONE curated space on the website #you have a multitude of tags and other users #don’t waste energy on a person who already told you no. let’s call that activism rule number two #spend your energy where it’s not likely to be wasted #you’re needed for a long haul #act like it 😭#and stop spamming me 😭#hey little star whatcha gonna queue?

58 notes · View notes

hellsite-hall-of-fame · 2 years ago

Note

would you like a box? no? too bad *chucks a box at your face*

*very gracefully catches it*

jokes on you because I actually do want a box, so thank you so very much for this gift :D

#hall of fame curator’s bullshit #that’s my new tag #or #hellsite hall of fame curator’s bullshit #idk which please let me know if one’s better lol #or if anyone has a better suggestion #oh but #if y’all don’t want to see non-hall of fame related posts please oh please block the tag #i’m begging you #and i’m not tagging completely random asks as ‘hellsite hall of fame’ anymore #and deleted the tag from ones like that #bc yeah #I saw a thing and haven’t recovered #so now i’m re-doing my tagging system ig #anyways yeah #the hellsite answers #ask #shitpost

165 notes · View notes

finniestoncrane · 1 year ago

Text

said to my counsellor that i wasnt built for friendship because everyone always eventually just. stops speaking to me and she went “ok why do you think that is?” and then when i finished my dumb sad list she went “ok so maybe you aren’t good at friendship” and i. have never regretted spending £50 more in my life lol

#A RANT IN THE TAGS MY GOD I DIDNT EVEN REALISE I AM WRITING THIS WARNING RETROSPECTIVELY #£50 to feel like never trying to speak to anyone again or forge any connections THANKS RUTH #Ruth remember when I said that every friendship I’ve had I’ve never truly known if it’s a friendship or if it’s one sided #remember when I told you that my friend groups always had people who had a favourite and I was never the favourite #remember when I told you that several friend groups have disbanded but not really they actually just made new spaces without me?#remember that? remember my trauma? remember?#because I DO!!!#I was not born to have friends I don’t think #I can’t even make friends with other autistic people or other weird people or other queer people #I don’t even think I could make friends with a clone of myself #this is so guy wrenchingly isolating lol #like girl what do you want from me? keep everyone at arms length like I used to?#try not to let myself get attached to people in case they decide they don’t want to be close to me anymore?#please it is not great advice Ruth #THE WORAT PART is that I literally was like ‘I don’t message too much because I’m overbearing’#and she asked where the proof was #and all I had was the complete dissolving of any relationship where I tried or tried too hard #so now I’m left in this confusing space of do I message too much or not enough because I have no happy medium #and she knows SHE KNOWS I also have energy issues and executive dysfunction stuff going on #and I know she is just trying to help and get me to think about this stuff #but it was just not the time lmao #finnie shouts into the void

78 notes · View notes

fitpacs · 6 months ago

Text

#i feel so helpless when i see people being so down on themselves #the community is definitely smaller now and i get why but for those that remain and continue to create #to think that it’s something they’re doing wrong - IT ABSOLUTELY ISN’T #and i wish i could do something to make everyone believe that #i wanna hug everyone and tell them how bright they still make this community - or what remains of it - still so cosy and lovely #whether it’s someone i don’t know in the tag or one of my friends it stings still #this community has some of the most exceptional talent i’ve ever seen -#talent in every form - and as someone that has gone through many fandoms and hate at their creations i tend to not look at numbers anymore #but i get it why people do - i get it SO MUCH #to not get the recognition - it hurts. i get it!#but i’ve learned over time that there are COUNTLESS ‘ghost readers’ or ‘ghost viewers’ that see and appreciate your work but just don’t-#interact with it - i was one of those people up until january this year!#my ao3 was already flooded with qsmp fics before i made this blog and i didn’t have the fitpacs account yet so didn’t leave kudos or anyth #but my point is - i get entirely why it’s easy to get wrapped up #i’ve been there but honestly - you are so appreciated #and i know me saying this makes no difference and i don’t expect to #but i love and appreciate this community with my whole heart #and whether you are someone i speak to a lot or we’ve never spoken at all - thank you for your beautiful creations #it’s a real shame how things went down behind the scenes obviously #but it’s so beautiful that so many people still have such passion to create #and if there is ANYTHING i can do to help build peoples spirits with regards to this please let me know #this community has done so much for me (more than you know) and i really want to give #something back

13 notes · View notes

moonfurthetemmie · 2 years ago

Note

Kid would argue that they aren't sleepy which only cause slash to smirk and asked them if they really aren't and they would nod. Then slash would pick them up by their legs one arm on their back and lead them back to bed. Kid would have their eyes closed and slowly fall asleep on their way to bed.

Kid gets tucked in nicely and Byte’s like ‘damn, imagine lying about being sleepy’ and the girls both look over at Pluto, resident insomniac, and he just sticks out his tongue

#horror!ds #h!ds slash #h!ds pluto #h!ds byte #also hey the ask you sent me? I saw that in the middle of class and couldn’t concentrate anymore bc the mental imagine of it just #kept popping into my head.#I’m not angry I am just letting you know I have deleted it #it was fucking with me too much #the latest ask. sorry. just realized there was a typo after the blorbo tags and I can’t fix it rn #it’s still popping into my head. god #please never bring it up again. please #you don’t have to apologize I just want to forget that

7 notes · View notes

simmireen · 23 hours ago

Text

YOU WILL GET TWO POSEPACKS TODAY Christmas is the season of giving, being generous, being kind to each other. Also when being a creative in the sims community. But if you don’t give until the second half of january, or february, it’s not giving anymore.. right? 'Season's Greetings' ~ Santareen adventcalender DAY 22.1 7 variety family christmas poses on a sleigh ♥ DOWNLOAD (SFS) DOWNLOAD (Patreon) (always free!) You need the sleigh here The hot chocolate is to be found here

♥~♥ Clipping sadly is inevitable due to sim bodies/faces being different, or the clothing they wear, but I try my best to fit most of them. Be free to tag me at tumblr, insta or bluesky if you use my poses (@simmireen) You can find an overview of all my posepacks at Pinterest Want to commission me? > Ko-Fi page Terms of use Don’t claim as yours or put behind a paywall Don’t re-edit (adjusting hands is always allowed, just don’t change up my pose) Don’t reupload anywhere Please let me know if something doesn’t work!

@ts4-poses @sssvitlanz @alwaysfreecc

#simmireen #thesims4 #ts4cc #posepack #ts4poses #ts4 #ts4-poses #posemaker #sims4poses #sims4 #ts4 poses #simmireengoessantareen #christmas #sims holidays #alwaysfreecc

63 notes · View notes

adelheidvonschicksal · 11 months ago

Text

The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩

Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.

“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.

There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.

“I wanted to finish this report for work.”

“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”

Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”

“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”

“Ruined?”

“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”

Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”

His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.

“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”

“That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.

“It is.”

“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.

“Yes.”

Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.

“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.

“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”

“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.”

Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.

“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”

“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.

“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”

It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.

“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.

“Huh?”

“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.

“And Serotonin.”

Another kiss, lower.

“Oxytocin.”

He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.

“Reduced cortisol.”

Flustered, you grip his arms.

“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.

His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,

“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”

You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”

Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”

And by those things, you mean his dramatics.

“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”

Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”

He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”

Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.

“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”

“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”

Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.

Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”

“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”

Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

#zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace smut #adelssmut #notsfw

12K notes · View notes

wonallofme · 16 days ago

Text

let it out, loser!

tw and tags: boxer!jungwon x fem!reader, smut, no condom, penetration, creampie, squirt, heavy dubcon, no plot just porn, the sex is nasty af, a little of blood (biting lips and fight wounds), allusion to past noncon, insanity from both of them. word count: 1.7k note: hi! i haven't written anything in a long time and just wanted to do something short. this is my first (official) enhypen piece, hope someone here likes it. if you know me from my other blog, you just know the sex i write is not the most sane one. again, this is pure fiction! Please be careful about the tags you wish to block.

credits for the divider: @bernardsbendystraws (link)

The sound of his keys being thrown to the table in your kitchen shouldn’t be that hot. The sound of his bag hitting your floor with fury shouldn’t make your panties get wet. Even more, the sound of his heart beating inside his chest so fast shouldn’t make you excited for what was about to come.

Knowing too well how he, his breath, his steps, his things, sounded when he was angry after a loss, shouldn’t turn you on.

One, two, three, four. You counted the steps he took.

Usually, if he walked around the room, he would be searching for condoms. He didn’t walk that much, so you immediately knew, he would be harder that night.

After all, he needed to let everything out to be himself the next day.

‘’I know you’re awake,’’ he said, making you open your eyes to not pretend anymore.

He didn’t try to be gentle.

His face was a mess, even in the darkness of the night, with the little to almost no light that trespassed your curtains, you could see a faint purple color on his cheek, and a bright fresh red on his lip. Both meant he would leave you hurting too.

You didn’t have to ask what he wanted from you.

You ruffled in your sheets.

You moved them so he could accommodate himself between your legs, and rubbing your eyes from the recent nap you had, you simply let him take your pajama shorts off.

It was better when you didn’t interrupt him.

You don’t hate this version of him. You know that, when the morning comes, he’ll be your nice boyfriend again. He’ll make breakfast and won’t talk at all about the night or his fight. He’ll let you clean his wounds, he’ll give you a silent soft kiss after walking you to class, and then he’ll go to the gym to keep training.

He made it hurt those nights, but he never made it hurt in your daily life.

Jungwon is the kind of boyfriend that makes sure you’re always comfortable while having sex. He leaves soft pecks on your cheek while fingering you, and he asks if you’re okay when he puts it in. He’s so tender, sometimes, you’re the one afraid of hurting him.

So, these times, when he doesn’t ask how you feel, and he just takes, you try to understand him.

A whimper came out of your mouth, totally involuntarily, when you felt his spit touching your entrance.

He was over you, between your legs, forcing them open with his own amplitude, staring at your entrance and how his saliva mixed with your wetness.

For these occasions, that little help was more than enough for you. He almost laughed. A smirk appeared on his mouth, and he let a curse out. Were you happy he was a mess? Was he really that pathetic? Why were you always so excited when he arrived from losing a match?

‘’You’re lucky I’m this kind, crazy bitch.’’

Pressing his tip on your wet clit, he exhaled loudly, looking defeated, before moving it down between your lips, smearing his spit along. He didn’t look at your eyes in this mode. He didn’t dare to look at your face. He concentrated on what he wanted from you, and you tried to find what parts of him were wounded so you could make a list of things you might need.

Ointment, bandages, cold pads, maybe you would have to cook him something nice too. Did you have apples left?

You couldn’t continue thinking when he slid in.

The burning made you leave a hurt sound out. You whimpered again, because of the pain, and hissed when he pulled out.

He didn’t ask you anything. He didn’t kiss your lips to ease it up or apologise in your ear before stopping altogether. You could see his mind thinking of something, and you wanted to suggest him, maybe he could give you more of it? As if reading your mind, he spat on his hand, a long line of drool finding his cock, and some of it spilling on your pussy on the way.

Your legs trembled with the sensation, somehow feeling a rush in your entire body. You wanted it so bad, this side of him, that when he wrapped the back of your thighs to oblige it all the way to your breast, you cried.

Not because of the sudden movement, or because of how challenging the position was, but because you knew he wanted you to feel it all.

And, when he wanted that, you would really feel it all.

‘’Fu-fuck,’’ you moaned when he bullied his way inside again.

Immediately after talking, you bit your lips.

He didn’t like it when you talked. Whether it was to complain or praise him, he didn’t care. He needed you to not talk or make him think or look at your face. He needed you to be, if possible, dead silent to only concentrate on his own thoughts.

Of course, that was almost impossible, so he would press a hand on your mouth if you didn’t behave, and in the worst cases, to mute you, he would press your face down.

Whimpers were acceptable. Broken moans, bearable. But words? No, never.

You wanted to apologize but it wasn’t the right answer, you knew it too well. You know him too well. Or so, you wanted to believe.

He pushed your legs further, slamming inside, pushing the air out of your lungs.

It continued hurting, but you couldn’t care less.

The awareness of him being there, the sound of his breathing, his hisses, the groans, you wanted it all.

A wet echo filled the room with the force he used to fuck you and your wet pussy taking him. Your walls moved to accommodate him, to welcome him with much enthusiasm, just like your hands pulling your legs closer to make it more comfortable for him.

He wasn’t wearing a condom, and just the memory of his cum all inside you made you tighten around him.

Inside your mind, you repeated give it to me, please, because your mouth wasn’t allowed to do it. It felt way too good. The first time, it made you deeply uncomfortable to feel it inside. You felt dirty, disgusting, and you couldn’t believe it had happened. Now, you couldn’t find the words to ask for it again.

You could only hope he lost.

‘’Fuck, why can’t I…? Fuck!’’

His torso raised, his hips aligned at a better angle, and he thrusted harder.

Your teeth were sinking on your lower lip, brows furrowing and eyes closing to not show him how much you were enjoying it. Probably, it was useless to even try to hide it.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso because of the sweat. Yours, his. Fuck, you heard him curse. The lower front wet spot, in no way, was from just sweat.

The spasms were arriving. You felt your abdomen get tighter, and you tried to calculate how much time had passed. It hasn’t been long enough, you concluded. You couldn’t cum, you had to hold it in, for him, because it couldn’t end so fast. For him, that short time was not enough. It couldn’t be enough.

He needed you to hold it. He needed it. He.

You cried. This time, a few tears escaped. You turned your face to the side, and a salty flavor on your tongue distracted you.

You only noticed you bit yourself so hard your lips were bleeding when you felt more of the metallic taste invading you.

Out of the ordinary, he leaned to inspect your face. His hand tactlessly gripped your chin and forced you to face him, and when he saw the drops of blood flooding your delicate lip, under your teeth, he gulped.

‘’You’re such a mess too.’’

His mouth found yours in a second, obliging you to leave your poor lip free. He, first, just grazed them, doubting to do such a soft act with you, before crashing your wound with his.

The kiss, just like the sex, was not delicate at all.

The sting in your lips was not a sensation you were familiar with. His lips were always soft with you, at least until that moment. At much, they would be lustful, making out with you for long periods of time, but never brute.

His fingers stabbed your jaw, and his tongue prodded out.

You couldn’t breathe properly, overwhelmed with his strength, so you opened your lips to inhale some air, an act he took advantage of by barging his tongue into your mouth.

You had no way of using your brain at that moment. His tongue inside your mouth stealing your little air, his entire weight sinking you to the bed, his shoulders maintaining your legs up and against your chest, his cock balls deep inside you. It was all too much. Your head was too dizzy to remember exactly at what point you had your orgasm.

You remember your legs shaking, and an embarrassing loud cry muffled with his mouth against yours.

Also, you remember the broken moan he left out, and his hips reassuming a brutal pace that makes you roll your eyes with the mere memory. His long cock had hit a spot that made you lose yourself, and your pussy, so sensitive with how he had continued using you, had the most intense orgasm you ever had.

The clean gush finished wetting the front of your shirt, splashing his abdomen and making a pod slide down onto the bedsheets. Sadly, he didn’t care that you were trembling and bawling because of it. He plunged back inside, biting your cries and mixing both bloods while trying to find his own orgasm.

He left it out all inside you.

When you felt his warm cum invading you, you passed out.

After that, all is black. You try to move your body, finding it uncomfortable and painful. Still, you turn your head, finding your boyfriend’s naked back beside you. From the way his breath is calm now that he’s sleeping, you deduce he’s back to normal after finding his release.

Your shirt is different, clean, and the bed sheets are blue instead of white, so you know it’s not the same set from the night before.

At the sensation of his cum leaking out of you, you wonder if changing your clothes and sheets was the only thing he did to you while you were unconscious.

#─★dark enhypen #─★jungwon #─★fanfic #tw dubcon #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #honestly idk what tags to use

2K notes · View notes

sanatomis · 6 months ago

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚ ──── 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄.

it's been on your mind for a while now. and, even though he's a little confused at first, it takes satoru very little time to warm up to your enticing offer.

დ content. fr3e use kink, cursing, female!reader, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, consensual somnophilia, deepthroating, cum-swallowing, mentions of satoru eating it from the back <3

დ notes. second attempt at posting this on tumblr, don't mind me. it's crossposted on ao3 bc my previous attempts at posting all failed miserably (it never showed in the tags ://)

Satoru is confused. It doesn’t take you much time to notice that your softly spoken words have him quite rattled, as the results of them can so clearly be observed on his face. There’s his nose that scrunches up cutely, and a little tilt of his head to the left which comes accompanied by a few snowy strands of hair shifting across his forehead. A small furrow of his brows, the soft gnawing on his bottom lip. He’s thinking about it; mulling over your offer.

Three times, he tries to say something. His mouth opens once, twice, and it’s futile. Not a word escapes, and he takes a sharp intake of breath. You almost believe that, if you weren’t currently seated opposite him, he’d smack the side of his head a few times to make sure it’s still screwed on right.

“So, I just. . .” The third time really is the charm, it seems. Though, he never quite manages to finish what he was going to say.

“Just put it in, yeah.”

You finish it for him, you’re sweet like that. It does really seem as if he could use the help.

“Wh—whenever I. . .”

There’s a little voice in your head, chiming and chattering about how all of this is weird. It makes you nervous, and your fingers itch to play with your necklace to fight it.

“Whenever you want,” you confirm. It’s as if your heart has suddenly moved to your throat.

“Wha—what if you’re asleep?”

“I said whenever you want, didn’t I?”

He almost lets out a little squeak at the words you so casually give him. They surprise him, as they do you. Your last sentence wasn’t one spoken by your mind, and you shift in your seat as if it’d shush the part of you that did.

It’s as if you’re telling him what you’d eaten for breakfast this morning, not giving him permission to slip, bully and sheat his cock into your needy cunt at any given time of the day. Without needing to ask, too. Satoru can fill you up, stuff you full, and dump so much of his cum into you until you’re overflowing, and he can do it whenever he feels the need to—because he’s Satoru, and you love your Satoru.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hint of apprehension laces his voice. Your heart almost swells at his concern, at his hesitancy and need to confirm your wishes; even if you’ve vocalised them so bluntly. “Maybe, think about it for a little long—”

“I have,” you interrupt him. As gentlemanly as he’s being, there’s no mistaking the darkening of his eyes. The pretty, baby-blues making way for something sinister. You suddenly don’t feel so nervous anymore. “I have thought about it. Way too much, and for way too long.”

A string of curse words tumble past his lips. They’re hushed, and quick, and from the way he, too, shifts in his seat you gather that he’s hard. Painfully so, if the bulge forming in his pants is anything to go by. Your relationship has existed long enough for you to know that drops of his pre-cum are staining the fabric of his boxers already—always so messy, your Satoru. The mere thought has you wanting to take him out, to put him in your mouth and lap at the sticky, white beads falling down his length.

“Please,” you plead softly, and watch how he stifles a groan at the needy, saccharine sound of it. You want more, more of that sound. Right next to your ear, preferably. “Use me, Satoru.”

There’s little you want more than that, little that arouses you more than that. The thought of Satoru taking you whenever he wishes, abiding by his whims and allowing him free-reign over your body—it instils a heat into your stomach, into your core. It makes you feel filthy, like a cheap whore picked up from the street; but you’d be his whore, and suddenly it all starts to feel like a dream. It’s Satoru. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. He’ll be gentle, and he’ll be kind, and he’ll stop as soon as you utter your safeword, and he’ll love you so much, even if he fucks you as if he doesn’t.

You have half a mind to ask him again, to plead, to beg for it again, as it almost feels as if he didn’t quite hear you. But, as soon as you open your mouth to do so, he immediately latches his lips onto yours. It’s messy, and sloppy, and entirely fueled by the frantic state his mind is currently in—but you don’t complain, and never will.

His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, and you feel him almost buzzing with excitement. Your teeth clash against one another at the force of the kiss, your tongues greedily seek the other out, and saliva gets swapped from your mouth to his, and vice versa. It’s dirty, and sticky, and almost brings you back to your high-school years, when he’d been all clumsy hands and feigned confidence on the night you’d lost your virginity to each other.

Satoru pulls back from your kiss first, and a small smile falls over his lips when he notices you chasing him. “Wait a minute, sweets,” he murmurs, forehead against yours. His breathing is heavy, as is yours, and you don’t want to wait a minute—you want him, now, tomorrow, and each day after that. “Are you. . .” He chuckles when you kiss him again, and again, and again. You only stop when he holds your head in place. “Are you completely sure about this?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Mhm,” you hum, and caress his cheekbone with one of your thumbs. Satoru melts in your hold, as he always seems to do. “‘S you, ‘Toru. I’m completely sure when it’s you.”

He lets out a shaky breath. There’s a storm of emotion behind his eyes, but all of them point to the same conclusion—he loves you. So much, you might even get sick of it one day; he’d told you as a joke, one born out of fear. But you won’t. You never will. And you think he’s starting to realise it, finally.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your forehead.

It’s delicate, and loving, and so opposite from the way he buries himself into you over, and over, and over again a mere five minutes after that. Satoru’s needy, and impatient, and so pent-up from your previous conversation that foreplay gets thrown out of the window.

He bends you over the couch first, that cute little ass of yours jiggling right in front of his face as he mounts you from behind. He slips in easily, with a pussy as wet as yours, and a cock as leaky and hard as his—the lack of foreplay almost goes unnoticed. Almost, of course, as the sheer size of him never fails to elicit a hint of a burn as he stretches you out. Nevermind that you take his cock daily, or that your walls are bound to carry his shape after the many years you spend with him.

The sounds that decorate your apartment are filthy, lewd, and borderline obscene, but you’re thoroughly obsessed with them. The slapping of his balls against your ass, the squelching with each passing thrust, the deep groans and choked whimpers Satoru releases next to your ear just like you wanted. Even your own moans, your own babbles, and your own whines add to the experience; the combination of sounds. And you love it, because it’s you, and it’s Satoru—and it’s the two of you together.

It doesn’t end after Satoru cums, nor does it after you do. The agreement between the two of you that was made tonight seems to have done a number on him, and he takes you a second time. On the balcony, where he puts you on display for the world to see as he fills you over and over again. And a third time, in your shared bed that’s never been safe from his affection and blatant desire towards you. And a fourth time, in the shower that was initially meant to clean you up, he decides to dirty you even further.

If this is the reaction he gives to the mere idea of using you whenever he pleases, you long for the time that he actually does.

It’s well past midnight when Satoru finally decides he’s done with you. You’re curled into his side, a shirt that’s way too large for you (but one that you swore you didn’t steal from him) covers your figure. You’re asleep. Tired, exhausted, and completely knocked out. He smiles. You’re so cute. A love-sick expression is stuck to his face, and it may very well become permanent if he stays looking at you.

One of his fingers reaches in-between your thighs, gently scooping up the remnants of his release. Satoru almost coos at the way your nose scrunches up cutely when he starts to finger it back into your pussy. It allows his digits to slip easily through your folds, and she sucks them in as soon as he reaches your hole. His cum doesn’t leak out this time. Not yet, anyway, but even if it does, he’s more than willing to repeat the process.

He sighs. Mind full of thoughts, but at least his balls are empty now. There’s a little huff escaping his lips, and he’s amused at his own comment. Satoru shakes his head, but the small smile remains nonetheless. Strong, yet gentle arms pull your body tighter against him.

You’re delicate, and sweet, and so precious to him; and he will do his best to take care of you. Use me, use me, use me. He kisses your forehead, his own eyes falling shut.

He will most certainly try to.

The very first time Satoru entertains the idea of indulging in your offer, is on a day where you’ve decided to wear his favourite lipgloss. It’s so shiny, such a cute shade, and makes you look so beautiful, but above all—it’s sticky. It’s sticky, and easily smudged, and he knows from experience that everything feels so much filthier when he steals a kiss from you with it on.

Without meaning to, thoughts of you wrapping those glossed lips around his dick, creating a mess made-up of spit, cum, tears, and thus that delightful stickiness from your lipgloss, enters his mind. The coloured shade will leave a perfect ring around his length, there’s no doubt in his mind. Your pretty face will be all dirty, smudged stains near the corners of your mouth courtesy of his fat cock. You will be a sight for sore eyes.

You’re talking to him, but Satoru can’t seem to listen. He’s enamoured by your lips, your soft-looking, plumb, and very glossed lips. He briefly feels pathetic, knowing that a mere make-up item has the ability to make his head spin to such a degree—but he doesn’t, as he quickly realises it only does so because it’s you that’s wearing it.

Fuck, he really wants to stuff his cock into your mouth.

Five, six, almost seven seconds pass before the realisation kicks in. If he wants to put his cock in your mouth, then he can. Satoru’s body moves on its own before he gets a chance to think about his actions, as is often the case with him, and it's not long before his large hand finds its new home on the back of your head. He falters briefly, watching how you quiet down, how your eyes widen slightly, but continues as he’s doing when you make absolutely no move to stop him when he gently guides your head down, and down, and down—until you’re right where he wants you.

A small gasp leaves your lips when he puts you on eye-level with his crotch. It’s quiet, and he almost didn’t hear it, but it makes him pause nonetheless. The hand on your head loosens its grip, and he hesitates as he looks down at you.

“Is this oka—”

The sentence never gets finished, forever interrupted by a sharp hiss as you take his cock out of his pants with such unabashed eagerness. It slaps against his abdomen, leaky tip staining the fabric of his shirt. Your previous conversation is all but forgotten, it seems, as you don’t waste a second in taking his hard, aching length almost entirely into your mouth. It all happens so quickly, and Satoru’s mind almost can’t keep up. All he did was think about filling your mouth, and now he’s actually doing it; the fat tip prodding near the back of your throat.

His hands are shaky, he notices, and so is his breathing as a small whine escapes when one of your hands goes downwards to play with his balls. “Fuck!” he curses, caught by surprise at the boldness with which you reached for that part of him. In his startle, his hands return to the back of your head, and your words make their impromptu return to the very front of his mind.

Use me.

He will, then.

Satoru isn’t at all gentle when he does. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he pushes you down onto his cock until your nose brushes against the soft, white hairs near his pelvis. Your poor little mouth is struggling, he can see, but he can’t seem to pay much mind to it; the sounds of you gagging around his thick length are too much of a pleasure to hear. The way he pushes you up-and-down nears the realm of brute force, and still you eagerly suck, and suck, and suck.

A particularly loud groan echoes through the room when he steals a glance at your small form kneeling between his legs. It seems he knows you well; you are a sight for sore eyes like this. There are tears in your eyes, and some of them have already fallen down your hollowed cheeks; hollowed, to make space for him. Your mouth is filled to the brim with his cock, and even though he can see you fighting for breath, you never make an attempt at catching it—as if you wouldn’t dare to deprive him of the please your throat gives him.

Satoru catches himself falling in love all over again.

He fucks your face harder, and harder, and harder the closer he gets to the edge. Deep groans, and slurred curse words join your symphony of muffled moans, and his hold on your head slowly starts to falter.

“‘M close, princess,” he mumbles, but that’s about all the warning he gives you. A few seconds later, he cums down your throat. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t need to. Not because you’d given him permission to use you as he sees fit, but simply because he knows you’re utterly obsessed with him doing so. “Fuck, f—fuck, look a’you, hm? Gonna take all of it like a good girl? Don’t waste it, m’kay? S’all for, fuck, for you.”

It’s something he’s done countless times before, but Satoru swears that each time he spills his cum down your throat feels better than the last. Thick, sticky ropes fill your mouth, and you hum around him when it keeps going, and going, and going. You’re struggling to take it all, and he huffs in amusement when bits of it start to drip down your chin. His thumb catches it, and he quickly places it back in your mouth, forcing you to open it wider to accommodate both the digit and his slowly softening cock. You happily do so.

He pulls out of you shortly after, with his chest heaving as he recuperates. His entire focus is on you, you, and you as he watches you wipe your mouth and swallow the last of his seed. There’s a smile on your face. It’s kind, and gentle, and innocent; almost as if he hadn’t just fucked your mouth and dumped his release down your throat. Satoru is utterly bewitched as he watches you, captivated by all and every little thing you do, and he cooperates as you tuck him back into his pants.

And then, as if nothing at all happened, you sit down next to him again—and you speak, you continue talking, finishing the story he’d interrupted with his need to be sucked off. Your voice is hoarse, and your cheeks are still stained with dried tears, but you pay neither of those facts any mind. It makes all of this look so. . . mundane. You were speaking, and then you were between his legs, and now you’re speaking again.

Satoru’s heart starts to beat even faster for you. Fuck, that’s so hot. This time, he decides to try his very best to listen to your tale about some co-worker of yours that pissed you off this week. He pitches in every-now-and-then, adding a low ‘huh,’ or ‘mhm’ to keep you occupied, and he almost feels guilty—guilty, because all his adrenaline-filled mind can think about are the future possibilities of using you.

“And, wanna know what’s the worst thing about the situation? It was my idea to get donuts for everybody! That harlot didn’t even want them initially.”

Satoru’s downward spiral is inevitable, and he finds himself falling victim to it more times than one would consider healthy in a mere seven days. He very quickly learns that he’s thoroughly obsessed with the notion that allows him to fill you up anywhere, and at any time. To him, it’s one of the highest honours.

There’s such confidence, such unwavering faith encompassed in your view of him. There has to be, if you’re willing to allow him such a thing. Thinking about it almost causes a cute pink hue to colour his cheek. . .you really do trust him a lot, huh?

He’s never been able to tell you ‘no’ before, and he certainly isn’t about to start. So, he dutifully listens to you and abides by your delectable request. To satisfy you, of course. There’s absolutely no other reason for his actions, and the way he breaches your dripping cunt with his leaky tip, all while soft breaths leave your lips, and your pretty eyes are peacefully shut, is simply to indulge you.

Use me. Use me. Use me.

Satoru curses, the crude words that tumble past his lips being plenty colourful. One of his hands settles on your hip whilst the other hikes your (or rather his) shirt up to provide him with better access. It’s your fault, really, that he’s currently sporting one of the hardest boners of the century. You were waiting for him, weren’t you? Waiting for him to return and bury himself to the hilt in that sweet, sobbing pussy of yours.

There’s no other reason for you to fall asleep with nothing but his shirt on. Not even panties covered your cute little cunt, your sticky folds fully on display and welcoming him home. Satoru wants to bury himself in it—in a multitude of ways if he’s being truly honest with himself. For now, though, he’ll stick to simply one.

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, delicately rubbing soft circles into your upper thigh with his thumb. You whine faintly, feeling his cock fight its way past your walls. He splits you open, stretching you just wide enough to slip inside. Your nose scrunches up cutely, and he almost rouses you from your slumber. “‘S me, really need you, baby.”

And that’s all he has to say. It’s me. It’s your Satoru. A gentle whisper of those words, and he gets to use you as he pleases. All of his previous worries, all of the near-boiling anger he felt at his previous meeting with the higher-ups washes away as soon as he sinks himself balls-deep into your pussy. Satoru groans deeply at the feeling, and gentle, stuttered declarations of love are babbled into your ear with each slow drag of his cock along your walls.

The garbled mesh of words that he deems too important not to say, even despite their poor enunciation, only ceases to exist a few minutes later—when he spills his heavy load into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. No, into that sweet cunt of his. Because, that’s who it truly belongs to, no? It’s his, to use, to spoil, to worship. You’d offered it to him so kindly, after all. And, well, Satoru has never been the type of person to turn down a gift.

. . . You unknowingly create a monster. It seems that even the mere idea of being allowed to use you as he pleases has him tip-toeing around the line of borderline insanity. As each time he sees you, he wants you. . .and each time he wants you, you let him.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing at that moment. Even if you’re speaking, and he suddenly feels the need, no, the simple want for a blowjob. And even if you’re asleep, resting after what must have been a long day, you still allow him to slip his aching cock into you to satisfy the craving he’s had for hours.

Even if you’re busy setting the table, you don’t push him away, and you still allow him to bend you over the wooden surface, to sink to his knees and lick, suck, and kiss around his pretty pussy with his tongue. Simply because he wants to do it, and you really do so, too.

. . .And even now, when you’re cooking dinner.

There’s a certain cuteness about the way your brows scrunch in concentration, about the way you gently bite on your bottom lip as you prepare the food for the two of you; it nearly makes him feel guilty for feeling the secret desire to ruin such a lovely, innocent view. The word nearly is important, however, as he’s acutely aware of your need for him to do exactly that—and so, any sense of wrongdoing melts away, similar to snow underneath the sun.

He’s not quite sure what it is that you’re cooking, but it smells delectable. There’s an array of spices, herbs, and vegetables strewn around the counter, and Satoru knows he’ll be eating like a King in a few minutes. As for right now, though, there’s a different craving, a different type of hunger slowly making its way forward. He fears it won’t be one that’ll be sated by your lovely culinary skills.

“Smells good, baby,” he mumbles. It doesn’t take him long to settle himself behind you, large hands gently coming to rest on your hips. He sighs in the crook of your neck, and nudges the skin with his nose. “What’cha making?”

You answer. He knows you do, as he feels the vibrations of your voice underneath his lips, the soft hum feeling quite soothing as he kisses along the column of your throat, but Satoru can’t find it in himself to focus on the words you give him. His ever-loose hands roam eagerly down your body, and the previous loving, and delicate kisses along your neck turn sloppy, wet, almost, as Satoru dips one of his hands underneath the waistband of your panties. There’s a grin forming on his lips, one entirely too big and full of confidence.

“‘M startin’ to think you’re just always wet for me, pretty girl,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, fingers entirely coated in your slick the second he’d sunk them into your dripping cunt.

Your cheeks heat up, and you try to stifle a moan when he, so very, very slowly starts to move his fingers in-and-out of you. “I—I am,” you admit, and clench around his digits just as he’s about to take them out; as if it’s a last resort to keep them inside. “F’you, Satoru. Just for you.”

“Hm?” He hums, and almost huffs in amusement as he sees you trying to continue what you were doing so desperately, as if you weren’t being fucked on your husband’s fingers. Just for that—he rapidly thrusts his fingers back into you, harsher, deeper, and so much quicker. “Just for me, yeah, princess?”

“Y—Ah! Yes, yes,” you squeak, one of your hands seeking out some semblance of support from the kitchen counter. “Only for you.”

There’s an embarrassing sound hitting your ears, as each thrust of his absurdly long fingers is accompanied by your wetness squelching around them. You struggle to speak, to breathe almost, as he fucks you on his fingers. Satoru stretches you out, curling his fingers to find the spot he knows will leave you with those pretty tears falling down your cheeks, and to hit it over, and over, and over again.

There’s such a heat gathered between your legs, such a pleasurable source of warmth, and Satoru suppresses a groan as he’s once again made very aware of that fact when your walls clench around his digits. His cock twitches, and he lets out a shaky sigh as he grinds it against your ass. “You are, aren’t you? Hm? C’mon, baby, don’t be shy. . .be a little louder.”

You aren’t shy. You haven’t been for a while now. There’s a certain hotness in the way you moan so unabashedly, so utterly shamelessly whenever Satoru gets his hands on you in such a way—it’s as if you can’t ever get enough of him. It never fails to harden his cock even more, to make his balls feel achingly heavy until he ultimately empties them inside your tight little cunt. And you know so, which is exactly why you do it.

“‘M not,” you rasp out, one of your hands coming to rest on his wrist. The back of your head falls against his shoulder as you choke on a moan, seeking some very necessary aid to stay upright. “Please, I. . .’Toru, please.”

In all honesty, Satoru isn’t quite sure what you’re begging for. He knows it’s one of two options: either to cum on his fingers, or for him to push his thick cock inside your pussy already. There’s no desire to ask, however—he’d much rather make that decision himself. The hand that wasn’t currently burying three of its digits knuckle-deep into your pussy busies itself with his belt-buckle.

There’s a pitiful whine falling from your lips, one that’s released immediately upon the removal of his fingers from your cunt. “Shh,” he coos in your ear, instantly soothing your upcoming tantrum. You stifle the complaint you’d prepared for him, the feeling of his fat tip prodding near your too-eager hole quickly puts an end to it. “S’okay, pretty girl, just wanna feel you cum around my cock, s’all. . .Think you can do that for me?”

You nod, and rapidly so. “Mhm,” you hum, and open your mouth when he presents it with his soiled fingers. You clean them, suckling around them until each bit of your sweetness is gone. “Want to—really wanna cum around your cock, ‘Toru.”

“Of course, you do,” he breathes, and captures a quick kiss. And another. And another. And one more. It makes you smile, and that, in turn, makes him smile. When he does pull back, there’s as much love as there is lust dancing in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less of you, princess.”

Satoru is often greedy. There’s no such thing as savouring something with him—if he’s enjoying himself, he’ll be as gluttonous as he wishes. The exception is you, of course, as you always are to him. There’s no greater feeling than savouring you. It’s why he, more often than not, decides to fill you up slowly. To let his cock drag along your walls, to let your soothing warmth engulf him inch, by inch, by inch, until his firm balls press up against your ass. He does so this time, too.

Your long, drawn-out moan as he fills you up slowly sounds as if it were gifted to him by the Heavens, and Satoru’s cock twitches inside when he hears you mutter a soft fuck as you struggle to adjust to him. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve taken his cock, but the sheer girth of him still stretches you out—as it always does. Your husband loves you dearly, however, and waits. . .one second, two seconds, three seconds, and he doesn’t get any further before his self-restraint falters.

Satoru nearly pulls himself out of your cunt completely, only for him to fuck himself back inside so deeply—it has you place both palms of your hands on the counter to steady yourself. It startles you, as he hears you choke on a moan, but he continues. His movements are quick and rough, animalistic even, as he pounds into your cunt.

“Sa—ngh, Satoru, wait, I. . .” You interrupt yourself with a moan, the feeling of his tip near your cervix too sharp for you to properly finish a sentence. He’s so deep. It feels as if he’s in your womb, in your stomach—it feels as if he’s everywhere. “Fuck, I. . .f—fuck, ‘Toru. . .”

“Hm?” He breathes out, a groan slipping past his lips. “Want me to, fuck, you. . .” His rapid movements dial down. The self-control needed for it is enormous, but you’d asked him to wait—so he will. Some beads of pre-cum drip into your cunt, as if his cock was upset that he’d suddenly slowed down. “Wan’me to go slower, baby?”

“No,” There’s a small whine near the end of your sentence. It’s the absolute last thing you wanted him to do, even if you originally asked him to wait. “No, don’t, please, keep going. Need—need more.” You feel Satoru wrap both hands around your hips, as if he’s preparing for something. “Harder, please. . .”

“Harder?” He asks, and you don’t need to see him to know there’s currently a sense of smugness ruining his pretty face. “How hard do you want it, huh, sweets?”

Little more than the tip remains inside you, and there’s not a moment for you to mourn the loss of his entire girth—as all air leaves your lungs when he immediately thrusts back into you with a newfound vigour, with such force that it has you bend over the kitchen counter.

“Like, ah, like this, huh? That how you want it, angel?”

You don’t answer—you’re not able to, as Satoru uses the entirety of his thick length to steal your ability to speak coherently. Once again, you’re acutely aware of the sheer size of your husband. Satoru is tall, and big, and he likely isn’t even aware of it. It certainly doesn’t seem so, as he heads no mind to the way your feet are starting to lift off the floor. Each deep thrust has you inching further up the counter; his hands on your hips nearly holding you up and off the floor as he rocks into you from behind.

There’s little you can do, except take it.

The kitchen is filled with sounds that definitely do not belong there. Your wetness is prominent, the sound of it borderline embarrassing, and Satoru’s balls slap against your skin with each thrust. He’s relentless, and you want to cry. The good kind of crying; the kind that often comes accompanied with mind-numbing pleasure. You hiccup, and sniff, and try your best to stabilise yourself against the counter.

Though, your efforts prove futile once Satoru brings one of his hands to your front. You choke on a whimper as he cruelly pinches your clit, toying with it, flicking and rubbing it in the way he knows will get you off.

“T—Toru,” you warn him. “I—I’m. . .”

“Mhm,” he hums in acknowledgement, not letting up even for a second. There’s a featherlight kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Me too, princess. S’okay, let, shit, let go for me, yeah?”

And because he’s Satoru—your Satoru, you comply. It hits you all at once, and you’re suddenly very grateful for both your husband holding you upright, and your expensive kitchen counter for adding some extra support. You’re still breathing heavily, coming down from your high, when Satoru hits his own. It’s a familiar feeling, but one you’ll never grow tired of nonetheless.

You sigh in content. His cum fills you up rapidly, and to the brim. It’s hot, and thick, and trickles out of you even with him still inside—simply because there’s so much of it. The both of you are out of breath, and because of it, choose to stay within each other’s hold for just a little while longer.

Satoru could—and would—stay in this position for the rest of his life. . .but he’s quite sure that you’ve put a lot of effort in today’s dinner and he doesn’t want it to be for naught. With a deep sigh and a quick kiss to your cheek, he goes against every fibre of his being, and pulls out of you.

A shiver trails down your spine when he does so, and you let out a soft sigh in content. You’re still recovering, he notices. There’s a trail of his cum dripping out of you, though he wastes little time to push it back inside. Satoru takes matters into his own hands, and decides to place your panties back into place for you, too. It gets soiled by his seed rather quickly, but that’s a problem for later.

After smoothing down your skirt, he tucks himself back into his pants, as well. He’s by your side as quick as he can, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple.

It’s only then that he properly takes notice of all the stuff that’s been thrown around the kitchen. Pots, pans, vegetables, spices. It seems you really were busy.

And, as if he hadn’t just finished fucking you silly, he smiles.

“So, what are you making?”

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #sigh here we go attempt 209401 #please let it show in the tags this time #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader smut

3K notes · View notes

lucienarcheron · 3 months ago

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note: Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoy this next chapter and where the story is going :)

shoutout to @divinerivals for being on this journey with me <3

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

A day passed, then two more, and the end of the week found them quicker than they expected, husband and wife wrapped in a lavender haze.

Eris woke up each day with the sole purpose of claiming his wife and Iris sank into the intensity of his frenzy. She met every part of his needs and his desires with her own, knowing how much he needed it. Knowing how much she had craved it.

And while Iris tried to have Eris keep it in their bedroom, she found that any moment the two of them were alone, regardless of location, they would be skin on skin within seconds.

What Eris had a hard time saying with words, he had no issues saying with his body and Iris experienced a side of him that she’d only seen in fleeting moments, when he allowed his seducing to emerge. And seduce her he did; her husband was downright filthy with her and Iris was going through the type of pleasure she had only read about.

She had expected to be sore. She had expected to be shy about the highly erotic things her husband had promised her but it took all of one look and whatever sense of modesty Iris may have had vanished when Eris had his hands on her. She loved that he was slowly becoming more demanding with her. It made her crave it more.

They were currently in his study and Eris had just straightened from where he had been on his knees feasting on her, before flipping her over and lifting her dress. Iris looked over her bare shoulder and bit her lip at the sight of him behind her; his shirt was loose and his skin was as flushed as she was. When he met her gaze with a smirk, Iris couldn’t help but buck backward into him, his chuckle skating across her skin and she had to swallow hard as he kneaded her backside. He hadn’t even bothered to fully remove her dress when he demanded she lay against his desk and spread her legs for him; he only pulled it down her shoulders, exposing her breasts, and now lifted it to expose her very needy cunt to his antics.

Iris had found that in the last few days, she liked being a good wife who listened, especially when her husband had his cock fisted in his hand and was now rubbing it against her throbbing clit.

“I - I thought you had a meeting.” she breathed and arched into him again.

“I do. But my cock is going to meet with your pretty cunt first. It missed you too much.”

“Eris, you – oh.”

The tip of his cock was now toying at her entrance and Iris tried not to pant as he teased her, rubbing agonizingly slow. He leaned against her, barricading her to his desk, and nipped at her ear.

“You were saying?” he taunted.

“You’re insatiable.” she whispered but couldn’t help rocking back into him.

“I know and I’m only going to get so much worse,” he said. “Especially when I come inside you and have you walking around with it dripping down your legs.”

A breath stuttered out of her as she flushed. “That – I won’t –”

His hand ever so gently gripped her hair and Eris pulled her head back, their lips a breath apart. He took in her flushed face, how her eyes were glazed over, and tightened his grip just so. He saw the way her eyes had flashed the first time he’d done it. More importantly, he’d felt how her cunt had tightened around him and that was a sure sign he’d be wrapping his hand around her hair more often. Eris would work his way up to getting rough with her; he knew she’d like it even if she was still embarrassed about it right now.

Since that night they’d finally become one, Eris had been unable to stop himself from being all over her. If he thought he was touch-obsessed before, he was downright insane now that she’d allowed him the privilege of intimacy. The frenzy had hit him hard and only because he prided himself on being someone in charge of his emotions did he manage to keep some sort of restraint on himself in public settings. But once they were alone? He watched her every breath. Her every movement as they dived into each other day in and day out. He touched her in ways he’d been dreaming about.

And when she looked like this, undone, flushed, so artfully exposed like this, what was a husband to do?

“I don’t want to hear the word won’t from you.” he commanded quietly. “I already told you how often I will keep you filled up, wife. You should get used to my come dripping down your legs.”

She whimpered and Eris couldn’t help but kiss her fiercely with a growl, his tongue meeting hers in time with his hard thrust into her. He filled her to the hilt and held, relishing in the way she contracted around his cock and he pushed against her again, her firm ass snug against him. It had only been a few days of this bliss and Eris knew he would never be the same – nothing would ever feel like this. This right.

He swallowed her moan before he released her lips and pulled out to the tip before rocking into her with another hard thrust and Eris had to restrain himself from coming undone as she tightened around him; the sound of her breathless whine would be his undoing.

“You make such pretty noises, little gazelle,” he whispered in her ear, rolling his hips and delighting in the way she rocked back to meet his movements. “I’ve only claimed your cunt for a few days and all those pretty little sounds you make whenever I touch it are going to drive me crazy.” He pulled out an inch to thrust into her again and held. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Always,” was her breathless reply, her walls clenching around his cock. “It only seems f-fair.”

Eris hummed, his grip tightening on her hair once more to pull her back just enough to leave a chaste kiss on her lips. “Am I driving you crazy? Is that why you want revenge?” he whispered and Iris clenched around him again, a stuttered breath slipping out of her lips.

“You’re driving me crazy right now,” she whined and bucked back against him. “How long are you going to keep me waiting for you to fuck me, husband?”

Eris’s smirk was filled with feral delight as he released her hair, his hand sliding to an exposed breast and he slapped it quickly before squeezing, Iris’s choked cry as enticing as ever. “However long it’ll take you to say please, wife.”

“You’re going to have your mate b-beg?” she asked and very nearly did beg, trying and failing not to roll her hips for some relief.

“I have to teach you manners somehow.” he teased and thrust into her, rocking her into the desk. “Say please, wife.”

“Eris –”

“That doesn’t sound like please.”

“I thought you liked your name coming out of my mouth.” she said and rolled her hips again as he squeezed her breast once more.

“Oh, I do. I’ll like it even more when you’re saying it while my come drips out of your mouth,” he said, leaning in to kiss her shoulder as Iris’s eyes squeezed shut, the words making her flush deeply. “Now say please so I can fuck you like I know you want me to, Iris, or I start pulling out.”

“You’d only be punishing yourself if you pulled away now,” she said and didn’t even know why she was arguing with him. She wanted him to fuck her so desperately, she knew he could sense it. But in the way she couldn’t help teasing him on a daily basis, Iris couldn’t help but keep with tradition.

Eris’s dark chuckle had her tightening around his cock again and Iris felt the slickness of their joining as he bent her a little further with his chest against her back. “There are other places I can come but it’ll leave your pretty pussy empty and I don’t think you want that, do you?” he mused and nipped at her ear. “Say please.”

Iris couldn’t help the needy moan that slipped from her mouth, arching back into him. “Y-you’ve only started having me like this and already being so pushy.” she groaned. “And so d-dirty.”

A grin couldn’t help from spreading on his face as Iris made a noise of protest when he indeed started pulling out slowly. “You were so shy a few days ago and now look at you, spread like this and worried about me being dirty,” he said, teasing her entrance with his tip once more. “If only you could see your dripping cunt, you’d think you wouldn’t be so reluctant to ask nicely. Say please or I will tie you to my desk and leave you like this until I’m done with my meeting.”

The image he presented had Iris biting her lip hard, her core pulsing in desire. She wanted to be embarrassed by how wanton she felt, especially when the idea only seemed to turn her on and as she tried to arch further into him, she knew as tempting as the idea of him experimenting with tying her up, Iris needed him now.

“Please.” she caved and she felt his smile against her skin as he kissed her shoulder again.

“Say pretty please.”

“Eris.”

“Pretty please, handsome husband of mine.” he only said.

“That’s not –”

“You’re running out of time.”

And when he did lean back as if to leave her, Iris couldn’t stop herself from saying exactly what he wanted from her in one quick breath, “Pretty please, handsome husband of mine.”

Before Iris could take her next breath, Eris had sheathed himself into her with a hard thrust, pressing her down onto the desk and she couldn’t help the choked moan that escaped her.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised and Iris whimpered as he smacked her ass. “See? Now, how could I deny such a request?”

He wrapped her hair in his fist once more, pulling her head back to give her another soft kiss then released her to grip her hips and began to fuck her in earnest. The sound of skin slapping against skin quickly filled his study and in a very concerningly disturbing way, the scent of their sex overwhelming the room spurred him on. Iris took his cock, squeezing it perfectly as he fucked her, drilling into her. The same thoughts that had swirled in his brain whenever he was inside her returned in full force and Eris wanted to imprint himself on her soul, her body to memorize his, and again, he knew sex would never feel better than this.

His hand slid to push her down a little more, arching her body exactly how he wanted it as he pounded in her, and Eris couldn't help himself from letting that same hand slide down to knead the flesh of her backside, blotched red from his earlier teasing. He’d work her up to take more. He had so many ideas for her. So many ways he wanted to have her and so many things he wanted to do to her and have her do to him. He wanted to fill her in every way, and even though Iris was his, Eris’s need to claim her in every way he could wouldn’t go away.

He was a male possessed, entrapped, and enthralled by everything that she was, and when she shifted beneath him to meet his thrusts and look over her shoulder at him, the desperation in him intensified.

“My hand –” he grunted, the pace of his fucking brutal and intensifying as he watched her breasts bounce with the movement. “Take my hand – on your throat. I want to hold it.”

“Yes –” she cried, panting as her pleasure built. Iris had lost count of how many times he’d made her come since they’d been intimate the first time but she was a woman addicted and while the idea of his hand around her throat had been something she’d hesitated about once upon a time, she wanted it now – now as he fucked her like she was made only for this – like she was made only for his hands and Iris wanted his hands all over her.

Her hand met his as he reached for her and Iris clutched his hand as it wrapped around her delicate throat, pulling her up against him. The angle had him thrusting deeper into her and again, the timing of his thrusts seemed to match her whimpers. Her husband took her hard and his grip on her throat tightened just slightly, her hand still gripping his.

“I’m – close.” she breathed and Eris’s growl in her ear made her eyes roll back, her legs starting to shake.

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he demanded, his voice guttural.

“You.” she panted and tightened her walls around him, her fingers digging into the hand at her throat. “And your cock – who does it belong to?”

“It’s yours, wife. Only yours and it’ll fuck you until the day I perish.” he promised and shifted, slamming into her at a particular angle that had her seeing stars. Her breathing became heavy pants and when his free hand slid to her breast and pinched, Iris’s whole body shuddered, a cry sounding as her orgasm crashed through her.

Eris held her through it and despite his rough thrusts, his thumb was gentle as it caressed her neck. He allowed himself to pull her head back for one more kiss and then with a firm hand, pushed her flat on the desk to arch her body once more, chasing his release. Her body was loose and welcoming as his cock drilled into her and her quiet mewls edged him on. He was close. He only needed –

“Eris.” she sighed and the sound of his name slipping from her lips in such a way was what finally sent him over the edge. He came with a growl, spilling himself inside her with one final thrust and Eris had to grip the edge of his desk so he didn’t crush her beneath him.

The room was silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing and as Iris shifted beneath him, his hips still rocking into her slowly, it took him a few moments before he pulled out of her with a wet sound. He licked his lips, watching as his come dripped from his cock and out of her glistening cunt.

“When is this going to calm down?” Iris asked breathlessly, straightening shakily, even as Eris couldn’t help but rub the tip of his cock into her again. Iris arched slightly, sucking in a breath, her body rolling her hips on its own accord. “We just finished and I know if we didn’t control ourselves, we’d go again.”

“The frenzy wins another round.” he mused and finally, with much effort he forced himself to take a step away from her, forced himself to take a breath, and started cleaning them both up. They didn’t speak as Eris pulled her up and began to fix her dress, his touch gentle and Iris couldn't help but bite the inside of her cheek, slightly embarrassed as she watched him. He knew how to turn her on to the point where she’d likely let him do anything but when the moment calmed, she always felt embarrassment creep up on her for being so…lustful.

And while she liked the very sensual side he’d been showing her the past few days, Iris would always find herself deeply attached to this attentive one.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, tugging the shoulder of her sleeves in place. “I didn’t –”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

He focused on fixing her hair in place, his gaze flickering to her once then away. “Even when I held your throat? It didn’t bother you.”

“Did it sound like it bothered me?” she asked and Iris felt her heart nearly burst when he pursed his lips in response.

“I don’t want to take you by surprise or do anything you won’t want,” he said, his tone soft. “I get carried away in the moment.”

“And yet, you still gave me a warning. I liked having my hand with yours. I liked it a lot.” Iris answered and bit her lip when the corner of his mouth twitched up. She had clearly liked his hand on her throat a little too much and Iris’s eyes were locked on him as he gently shifted her to straighten the dress. The way he cared for her after their intimacy made her heart want to burst out of her chest. In contradiction to his behavior while they were being intimate, he was so careful – tender afterward. It almost embarrassed Iris more than how wanton she was during the act itself.

“Thank you.” she said and the corner of Eris’s mouth lifted at her soft tone.

“Are you embarrassed again?”

“No.”

“Liar, you answered too quickly,” he said, giving her too knowing of a look. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I know I don’t,” Iris said, a light blush coloring her cheeks. “But you’re used to engaging in all this and for me it’s all so…”

“Sinful? Obscene? Scandalous?” he teased and Iris rolled her eyes.

“New. And it's happening so fast,” she answered. “And you always make me feel so…untethered.”

Eris watched her with a small smug smile and he was not a male who used the word cute but his wife was sure being cute as fuck. It thrilled him endlessly that he was the one to corrupt her. “Untethered because I make you feel so good you forget all about your modesty nonsense?” he taunted playfully.

Iris swatted him lightly. “What I’m trying to say, asshole, is…it scares me a little bit how quickly I can sink into this with you and be so taken.” she said and glanced away for a moment then looked at him beneath her lashes as she added quietly, “I know the bond influences the…intensity of it all but when we come back to reality, I’m a little embarrassed that I would let you touch me the way you do.”

Eris’s grin was roguish and Iris pointed a finger at him.

“Don’t you dare make fun of me.” she warned.

“Make fun? How could I when you’re complimenting me?” he said with a wink, a hand reaching to smooth down her hair. His lips twitched when she narrowed her eyes at him and Eris, leaned in to leave a featherlike kiss on the corner of her mouth continuing quietly, “I understand the privilege it is that I get your firsts. I want it to feel good. I want you to enjoy it.”

“It – it feels great,” she said quietly, the color in her cheeks deepening. “But the way I get so wrapped up in you…overwhelms me.”

Eris felt his heart leap to his throat and he tried not to let himself get too excited at her words. He hated that she was embarrassed but he understood. He was the first and only person to ever get this side of her. He would cherish it. And continue to defile her.

“For the record…it has never felt this way with anyone else,” he confessed, his eyes on the sliver of collarbone peeking from her dress. “It overwhelms me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes. So overwhelmed that I can’t help but seduce you on the spot, depraved as I am.” he said, his smirk full of wickedness and Iris had to fight back a smile.

“Well…” she began and glanced away from him, flushing as she admitted, "You make me want to be depraved with you. So.”

Eris’s face broke out in a wide grin. “That is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Iris said with a snort. “Should I be thanking you for your corruption?”

“Naturally. You can thank me with words or actions, the choice is yours.” He said with a heated gaze. “We can get right back to debauchery as soon as you’d like.”

Iris’s cheeks heated at the promise. “Scoundrel.”

“Still your husband.”

“And a little more than that, hm?”

Eris licked his lips and forced himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath, especially as she giggled at his reaction. He’d just fucked her and her giggle would be what does him in. Who was he becoming?

Shaking his head, his smoldering look was a warning as he turned and adjusted his own clothing then ran a hand through his hair. He made to turn but Iris had come behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her face settling in the middle of his back.

“Wife?” he asked tentatively as he rested a hand over the one she had slid up his chest.

“The closer this ball comes, the less I want to leave,” she said quietly. “Do I really have to?”

He sighed. They’d had this conversation thrice already and each time Iris thought she came closer to wearing him down, he’d stand his ground.

Eris turned and faced her, his expression already set in a scowl, even as she stood with her arms around him, her chin resting on his chest. “You already know the answer is yes, you have to. It’ll be safer,” he said. “Lucien has already sent word that everything is getting in order on his end.”

“Helene is settled in?” Iris asked and when aimed to step back, Eris’s grip only tightened around her.

“Yes.” he said, his hands tracing her arms still around his waist. “And Helion is preparing for the backlash of my father. In the event it’s needed.”

Iris’s expression immediately dimmed. “And you and your brothers?”

Eris nodded. “Getting there. I’m seeing Izak later to get an update,” he said. “Will you be alright if I’m running late?”

“As long as you don’t take too long. I’ll start to worry,” she said with a small frown. “I’ll be reviewing notes from Nevien so you don’t have to worry about me.”

Eris hummed then cupped her face, forcing her to look up at him. “Regardless. Two of the hounds will be in the room with you.”

“You better have one with you as well.”

He chuckled. “Of course. Antares will be with me since Lyra has officially declared herself glued to you.”

“I can’t help it if the puppies love me so much,” she said with a smile and Eris rolled his eyes.

“That’s only because you bribe them.”

“With hugs and kisses.”

“With more snacks than they should be eating.” he corrected with a snort. “And I give them hugs. You’ve been spoiling them ridiculously and now they’ll never listen to me the way they used to.”

Iris laughed softly and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Aw, someone sounds jealous.” she teased and patted his chest when he rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to them for you. Convince them to give you another chance.”

“Alright now.”

“All children have off days with their fathers. They still love you, don’t worry.”

“Enough from you.” he finally said, though there was no real heat in his words. He was as much of a lovesick puppy as his hounds were. Apparently, they had been sucked into her orbit even quicker than he was…when he thought about how quickly they accepted her, he supposed it made sense.

He couldn’t wait for her to see his other hounds come out to play. That would be a surprise for another time.

With a small smile, Iris pulled away from him and quickly ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it down. “Are you ready for us to walk back?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. He’d had to shield her scent everywhere they went and shield his own whenever they were apart. Despite how they danced around his father’s goings and comings, it was as if his father’s leash had tightened on them and the High Lord seemed to sense something was different.

Even seeing his mother had gotten harder with his father keeping her…busy. His mother refused to even acknowledge it was happening, claiming she was used to pretending but Eris had to walk away each time, trying his best not to set the room on fire. He forced himself not to dwell on it and focused on preparation. They’d endured long enough. They would have to endure a little more.

His body grew more and more tense as each day passed, the countdown to the ball ticking away. He wanted to feel guilty for the way he consumed his wife but this release, these moments where it was just the two of them – whether it was talking or touching, it soothed his weary spirit to the bones. The bond chafed at them both with the only thing left was for Iris to offer him food and they kept skirting around it. It was something Eris truly wanted to wait for – he refused to celebrate this until he actually had the chance to celebrate her. He wanted it to be something to look forward to.

So, he continued to watch her and touch her like a depraved beast, craving even the smallest of glances from her.

The day he started teaching her how to dance made him realize exactly how in control of him she was. And Eris knew she had no idea the extent of this control on him. No idea the kind of chaos she caused inside him when she almost tripped and laughed it off as he taught her the steps to the Autumn Court’s signature waltz.

But he’d hold her waist, correcting her stance and she’d smile up at him, the smile turning into a coy little smirk the longer he stared at her and suddenly everything was right in the world for those few minutes.

Eris went through the wringer with his fucken feelings. Somehow, he felt the bliss of being near her, then the guilt for keeping her there, the anxiety about what was to come and how it would end, and then the frenzy would hit him at the most inconvenient of times…he was hanging on by a fucken thread.

And the cycle repeated itself as each day passed.

When the middle of week two trickled in, the High Lord sent for his sons.

There was an ominous feeling in the air as Eris made his way to his father’s study. He had just finished meeting with his sentries, finalizing stations for the perimeter of the ball when he received word of his father’s request. Whenever his father summoned all his sons, it surely spelled trouble and Eris didn’t like it one bit.

When he found his brothers by the entryway, awaiting his arrival, he tried not to take their expressions as a bad omen.

“Do we know why he called us here?” Emil said quietly but Eris shook his head, tension lining his back.

“He only said he had some sort of announcement,” he replied and had to roll his shoulders back before sharing a look with all his brothers. “Watch your reactions.”

They filed in behind him and Eris paused a few feet away from where his father stood in the middle of the room. Eris kept his stance as casual as possible, his brothers lined next to him. His expression neutralized, clasping his hands behind his back and he forced himself to bow his head slightly to his father, his brothers following. “You called, Father?”

Beron stood with his back to them and Eris looked around the study in distaste; given the pleasant memories in this place, he hated it almost as much as he hated the throne room. His fists clenched as the High Lord dropped the reports he had been holding on the desk and turned.

“Your mother’s ideas for the ball seem tackier than usual this year.” Beron mused by way of greeting. “I hope the rest of whatever she’s planned won’t be as tasteless.”

Eris resisted the urge to roll his eyes but Finn had no such reservations and Beron lifted a brow, glancing at his secondborn.

“Do you have something to say, boy?”

“No, Father.”

“Good. I do hate it when you speak.”

Eris could feel the heat from Finn’s body and hoped his brother wouldn’t open his mouth and say anything else. Given how often Beron’s hands found Finn, his brother held the least tolerance from their father and it didn’t go unnoticed.

But none of them said anything as Beron took a step towards Izak, looking him up and down with contempt. “Izak. You haven’t graced us with your presence in a moment.”

“I am here whenever you call me, father.”

Beron hummed. “You look like a barbarian. Before the event, shave your disgusting beard,” he said and waved a hand. “I can’t have you looking like a beast with a room full of your potential brides in attendance.”

A tense breath of silence and Eris tilted his head in confusion as Izak snapped a little too sharply, “Potential what?”

Beron’s eyes narrowed slightly at his tone and Eris cleared his throat to divert the attention.

“It seems you have something to share, Father.”

It took a moment before the High Lord looked away from Izak and addressed them all. “Yes. I called you all here because I decided it’s time to have you all settled down,” he said and collectively the brother’s brows went up. Beron’s gaze flickered to Eris. “I made the mistake of letting you get away with being unwedded for too long and then not enough time vetting your troublesome wife. I won’t make that error with the rest of you.”

Eris had to take a breath through his nose to hold himself back from snapping. “My wife isn’t nearly as troublesome as her father is and yet you chose to tie our families together.”

“Her father’s wealth and accessibility is the only reason your marriage was of value,” Beron said with a snort. “But she holds no value.” And Beron seemed to watch Eris, daring him to say something more as a muscle feathered in his jaw. “This time around, it’ll be more about what each female brings to the union. I can’t allow the rest of your brothers to breed with useless ones.”

“My wife is not useless.” Eris nearly spat and the corner of Beron’s mouth lifted cruelly.

“Her being fuckable isn’t an asset. It’s her only job.” Beron mocked and Eris’s jaw clenched so hard, it was a miracle he didn’t crack it. “Don’t say another word or I’ll make you regret it.”

A tense moment stretched between them as Eris’s expression hardened and his magic thumped beneath his veins, so desperate to dig into his father but he forced himself to take a deep breath through his nose; soon enough, the bastard would get what he deserved.

Emil cleared his throat, glancing at Eris for a fleeting second then back to their father. “Forgive me Father but, if I am to understand correctly,'' he started and shifted. “You are…suggesting we all get married.”

“It’s not a suggestion. By the end of this year, you three will be engaged to a female of my choosing from a respectable family. Families with females we can benefit from.” The High Lord said, giving Eris a pointed look that he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at. “By Spring, your wedding ceremonies will be taking place. Depending on whose daughters I decide on and if she’s worth her own wedding, we’ll see whether it’ll be one big family wedding to get it done or scattered monthly.”

His sons stared at him in stunned silence but Eris’s brows lowered. Why was his father doing this now?

“You will clean yourselves up and mingle at the ball. I expect you to be on your best behavior and woo each of them. Should I deem it unfit, there will be time to find you another female worthy of being a Vanserra.”

“Just like that?” Finn said with a snort. “If you deem them unfit, you’ll just find another one at the drop of a hat?”

“You’ll find that there are many females who would be delighted to be a bride for a prince,” Beron said and his expression hardened when he looked at Finn. “You’ll make it work with whomever I choose and if you don’t like her, you can always pretend she’s someone else while she’s sucking your cock. A mouth is a mouth, isn’t it?”

Finn flushed and Eris shot his brother a warning look as his hands fisted at his sides.

“Father.” Eris said lightly.

“Yes?” Beron said, turning to Eris with a pleasant tone that did not match his expression. “Am I wrong? If he doesn’t like her, he can choose another or be content with flipping her over and fucking her from behind without even having to look at her face. A hole is a hole, is it not?”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Finn snarled and Beron’s hand snapped out faster than any of them could stop it, backhanding Finn hard enough he staggered back a few steps.

“When will you learn not to speak? I am sick of you.” Beron said, his voice deadly quiet. “Do as you are told and save me your objections that I do not care for.”

“Father,” Eris interjected but Beron held up a hand, his mouth curled in anger.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“But –”

“I said I don’t want to hear it.” the High Lord snapped and the room heated as he glared at Eris.

Eris didn’t flinch at the look, blood pumping in his ears but he’d rather his father glared at him than back at his brothers. He could sense their anger bubbling and knew this little surprise was snipping at their pride when they were all in committed relationships. At least his father didn’t know about that.

“But Finn isn’t the only one who has a problem with this,” Izak stated and Eris finally looked away from his father to his brother, finding his expression dark. “I don’t want to get married.”

Beron’s expression shifted to mock amusement. “Is that so?”

“I don’t care for the females in the court.” Izak continued. “All they’re interested in is my money and gossiping. It’ll be a nightmare.”

“Your money?” Beron said with a snort. “You have nothing to your name. My money is the only reason any female would be tempted enough to marry someone as stupid as you.”

“I’m not stupid,” Izak growled, his face heated. “I’m a General of your armies.”

“Brute with no brain. Don’t forget that you’re my wild dog who was trained to fight and nothing more.” Beron cooed sarcastically, waving a hand as Izak’s eyes flashed. “You can save any objections you have alongside your brothers. You don’t have a choice.”

“What are you going to do, tie us to a bed and force us to get married?” Finn sneered.

“Maybe I will have you tied down like a prized mare and let your wife fuck you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Enough of your loaded comments, Father. Tell me what you —”

Eris tried to shield Finn but Beron’s fist connected with Finn’s nose faster than Eris could move and Finn’s head snapped back as blood came gushing out. His brother let out a choked laugh.

“Father, I think we all need to calm down,” Eris said, stepping between the two of them, and holding out both hands to Beron. “You’ve taken them by surprise. This reaction shouldn’t shock you.”

“I don’t care. I have a whole court that bends to my will and suddenly you four think you have opinions and choices? You will all do as you are told.” Beron snapped then glared at Emil. “I haven’t heard from you yet, quiet one. Do you have anything else to add?”

“I do despite knowing you don’t care for my opinion,” Emil said coolly. “You can’t be surprised that we have reservations about this, Father. This arranged marriage situation doesn’t work for everyone and the idea that the three of us have to do this has emerged from nowhere. What is the reasoning for it now?”

Beron looked down at his son, his lips curling. The High Lord didn’t have to open his mouth to demean them; his expression alone did it. “It’s the way you think I have to explain myself to you,” Beron said with a snort. “An order is an order.”

“Who else do you –” Finn began angrily, holding a cloth to his bloody nose but Eris shot him a look that quickly shut him up; he was still standing between Finn and his father. With the way Beron glared at them both, the High Lord was not liking it.

“You owe us that much if you’re going to whore us out for brides.” Izak spat and Beron shot him a withering glare.

“I owe you nothing but since you barely have a brain, let me spell it out for you.” Beron seethed and Izak flushed deeply. “We need heirs, you idiot. Long-term connections with powerful families. The Vanserra line needs to be kept strong.” The High Lord glared at each of his sons. “Other courts have begun securing their lines and building connections within the strongest families in and outside of their regions. I will not be upstaged by them when I have so many of you for this exact purpose.” He spat. “Despite you all trying and failing to weed each other out, I’ve accepted that you four have somehow remained and I will use you how I see fit. Your lives are for my court and my throne and I will not have my line die out because you don’t know what’s good for you.” Straightening, his glare intensified. “You will meet those potential brides and you will woo them at this fucken ball or so help me, the only information you will get about your wedding is a date and I will have you tied to a flagpole until it’s done.”

The room was deadly silent as they processed what he said and Finn’s heavy breathing was the only sound as Izak glared and Emil’s expression was tight. It didn’t matter that their little game of being at each other’s throats was his fault and it mattered even less that their father had such little interest in their lives; they were things – objects made to be used as he wished. It was all the same with the High Lord; do what you’re told or you won’t be able to oppose for long once he’s decided to make you.

But it wouldn’t be this way for long. Soon. Soon.

Eris worked his jaw and turned to his brothers, meeting each of their eyes before slowly saying, “Father has our best interest at heart,” he started. “There’s no harm in getting to know the options of females. He will choose only the best for you. Let’s all calm down.”

Collectively, the brothers’ expressions flattened and Eris knew they’d chew him out for this later but they were too close, too close to the end. This was a petty thing, they could tolerate this. He was already on edge himself and if they couldn’t leash themselves, they’d be in worse trouble.

“I think we all would’ve appreciated a little more time to process this, Father,” Emil said, clasping one hand over the other in front of him. “This feels very short notice.”

“You’ll survive.” Beron merely said. “They’ll be presented to you on a silver platter and if you’re discrete, it shouldn’t impact your dalliances outside of it.” He glanced at them with a pointed look that none of them appreciated, “I made sure they’re all attractive. You’ll be tempted enough.”

“I bet you were.” Izak muttered and Eris flashed him a look of warning but Beron smiled.

“You’re right, I was.” the High Lord mused with that nasty smile. “So if I was tempted, you’ll find them all agreeable.” He waved a hand at Eris. “Take your brother. He didn’t even care when I told him to marry Iris and now look at them. She was pretty when I chose her and she certainly seems tolerable enough to take care of his needs, doesn't she?”

Eris’s expression blanked, his hands fisting at his sides. “I’d rather not discuss my wife.”

Beron snorted. “Your wife is the reason I had to be pickier about who the rest of your brothers will wed. I can’t have them as controlled by their females as you are by yours.” He shot Eris a look full of disgust. “No matter how pretty her cunt is.”

Eris nearly detonated, his fists clenching so hard, that steam began to rise and he forced himself to breathe, to try and let the words bounce off him even as the mating bond thumped in his chest. His instincts to shred any male who even thought of his wife were already reaching their limits before they even brought her up and he was trying not to be stupid enough to fall for his father’s tactics. He knew better. He knew better. And yet, the guttural noise couldn’t be helped when Eris snarled, “Father. Do not mention my wife.”

Beron rolled his eyes. “Why? Your brothers know she’s fuckable. Finn was chasing her skirts in the stables not that long ago.”

Eris’s head snapped to Finn, his rage irrational as he gripped the front of his brother’s tunic tightly and Finn stared at him in disbelief, appalled at Eris’s glare.

This was why he had hesitated to give in to the mating bond urges. He was about to wring his brother’s neck when he knew Finn had been with Iris. He had sent his brother himself and yet – and yet.

Finn immediately straightened, his own anger barely leashed as he glared at their father. “That is not what happened.”

“Denial isn’t the tone of the innocent, boy.” Beron taunted as Eris’s gaze slid back to his Father and that gleam of cruel amusement immediately doused Eris’s anger. His father was toying with them as always. And he had —

“What the fuck is your problem?” Finn snarled at their father and Eris held his father’s gaze, slowly releasing Finn but holding him back with a hand to his brother’s chest.

Eris couldn’t help but release a little of the damper he usually held on his power, rage blazing in his gaze and the High Lord’s eyes narrowed.

“Enough,” he commanded, and despite the anger coming off him in waves, Finn managed to stand back and Eris knew his brother couldn’t help his expression of disgust at their father. “There will be no more talk about my wife.” he said then his gaze shifted to his brothers. “And no more negotiations on this matter.”

The tension in the room rose tenfold. It was a challenge to stand like this, to face the High Lord and command his sons in front of him. They had always listened to Eris but they were good at keeping it discreet. Not too obvious.

Eris forced himself to shove Finn back, fully facing his father. “Let’s all remember how Father…has a sense of humor,” Eris said slowly. “Nothing more.”

Beron watched Eris with a raised brow and a few moments of silence stretched between them before the High Lord snorted. “A sense of humor,” he said then his face pinched in distaste. His gaze washed over Eris and again, he hated how tense it made him. “This conversation is done. I have nothing else to say to you all. You have one task at the ball. Do not embarrass me.”

“We’ll try while whoring ourselves out.” Emil asked flatly and Beron tilted his head, that look of disdain still on his face.

“I do not care for the tone you speak to me in. All of you,” he said and waved a hand carelessly. “Apologize.”

“Do we get an apology?” Izak asked with a snort and though Izak had at least six inches on his father, the High Lord had grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him down to his eye level.

“Do not test me, boy. Or I will rip your tongue out.” he snapped and shoved Izak back. “You’re all lucky I already gave my word that you’d meet with the families and I want you to look presentable. Otherwise, you would’ve been reminded of exactly what happens to people who get disrespectful with the High Lord. Apologize.”

It was silent for a suspenseful moment before in unison, the brothers choked out, “Apologies, father.”

And the four of them stood before him, waiting to be dismissed; sons watching their father and father watching his sons. Eris was ready for whatever may come as long as there would finally be an end to this.

Beron watched them all with narrowed eyes, the seconds ticking by, and as if sensing them so miserable in his presence, his mouth curled into an ugly smirk and he finally nodded toward the door. “Get out of my sight.”

Without acknowledging each other, the brothers angrily stormed out and Eris forced himself to give his father a tight nod before he turned and made his way to leave. He didn’t trust his father’s parting expression one bit and Eris was only able to take a deep breath after the study door sealed shut behind him.

His brothers stood before him but Eris shook his head. Not here. They couldn’t say a word here. Their father was absolutely listening.

“I’d rather not see your hideous faces until the ball. Stay out of my way.” Eris said, then held up two fingers to Izak and Emil and they both nodded back; they’d speak again in two days.

“I’ll show up if I feel up to it,” Emil replied casually and waved a hand for a report to appear, handing them to Eris. “You don’t have to nag.”

“I have nothing to say to either of you so if I don’t see you until the ball it’ll be a fucken blessing.” Izak added and pulled his own reports rolled up from his jacket.

“You.” Eris said and pointed to Finn then jerked his head for him to follow.

“What?” Finn, his tone purposely aggressive and nodded, saluting casually as Izak and Emil disappeared without a sound.

“We need to have a word.”

And Eris made sure his tone was threatening enough, sounding like it promised violence as they left. They walked in silence, Eris’s blood pumping as they descended down the front gates and he knew he needed to get far enough away – far enough to not feel like his father was still looking at him – like his father’s gaze wasn’t watching him now. Turning suddenly, Eris grabbed Finn by the collar and before his brother could object, winnowed them to a hidden dwelling in their forests.

“What the hell, Eris?” Finn said as Eris shoved him back. He held up a hand until his shield was in place, then he let out a long breath.

Finn watched him and Eris knew his brother could see him struggling. His hands were starting to shake, steam starting to rise from them again as Eris began to pace.

“Well. At least I know you’re not going to murder me.”

“The jury is still out on that,” Eris muttered and when Finn grunted, he shot his brother a glare, grateful that his nose wasn’t too badly bruised. “You know better than to keep answering him. How many times does he have to break your nose before you stop?”

“He fucken hates me. It doesn’t matter if I spoke up or not, he would’ve knocked me around regardless.” Finn snapped. “At least I can get some things off my chest.”

“You’re an idiot,” Eris grumbled and took another deep breath as he paced, steam rising from each step he took. “He knows something.”

Finn instantly straightened. “What makes you say that?”

Eris shook his head. “This little move isn’t for nothing and I don’t fucken like it.” He paused, glancing in the direction of the open field then flickered back to that hidden dwelling. A narrow, half-broken trail, partially concealed by overhanging branches and tangled roots led through the towering trees and to the right, a stream on the other side of the cabin that led to the river running throughout the Autumn Court. It made him pause. He’d been looking for a place like this within the court. The little cabin in the woods to whisk away his wife off to.

His wife.

Eris shook his head, pushing his father’s stupid taunting out of his head, and focused back on Finn who watched him with furrowed brows.

“Are you alright?”

“No.” Eris answered too honestly.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather die.”

Finn held up his hands with a snort. “I had to ask. You’re more on edge than usual.”

“Given our circumstances, I’m grateful to be standing,” he said dryly then jerked his chin towards Finn. “Are you alright? He decked you pretty hard.”

Finn shrugged and Eris hated seeing that nonchalant shrug that haunted this family. “Nothing I’m not used to,” he said. “But why did you bring us here?”

Eris glanced again at the little area, hidden away. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ventured to this side of the court and how he used to find some peace and quiet here when he needed it. His gaze flickered to the stream and Eris let himself listen to the sound of nature around them for a moment. He would need to come back. He could shape this place to be a little hideaway he desperately needed.

“I could feel his eyes on us.” Eris finally answered. “I needed him to think I was going to beat the shit out of you.”

“Because of what he said about Iris?”

Eris felt his anger surge through his body and whatever calm he had briefly found was gone as he paced. He forced himself to take another deep, slow breath. He knew Finn wasn’t saying anything wrong. He knew his brother meant nothing by the question but his answer was still a tight, “Yes.”

A moment of quiet passed before Finn licked his lips and said, “Eris, you know I would never, right?” he asked and Eris glanced at his younger brother, his expression uncharacteristically nervous. “He keeps making stupid fucken comments like that and said the same shit in front of her but we told you everything that happened at the stables. I would never disrespect either of you like that.”

“I know, Finn. My reaction wasn’t about you.” Eris said and for once, let himself sound as tired as he felt. “He’s a piece of shit. He does it on purpose.”

“He is always saying shit like that to me.” Finn muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.” I’m sure he knows or at least has a feeling I swing both ways and he acts like I’m some kind of sexual predator when the only fucken predator around is him.”

Eris grunted in agreement then rolled his shoulder back, glancing down at the reports his brothers had given him; he had forgotten he was holding them. Scanning them quickly, it seemed that all was well with their respective areas and Eris also read between the lines; their people were ready. He glanced up at Finn who was now waiting with his hands folded across his chest. “Things on your end?”

“All is set.” He waved a hand and handed Eris his reports. “They’re starting to get in place.”

Eris nodded then straightened. “Stay out of his way for the next two days. We’ll meet in mother’s garden. Tell them to connect with their spies. Double then triple-check your sources. Find out what he knows. I need to know if information is getting out and if it is, who I need to kill.” he ordered and narrowed his eyes slightly at Finn’s nod. “I’ll reach out to Lucien to update him on this little announcement. What of Theo?”

“He’s going to leave right before the ball.”

His brother’s quiet tone had Eris clench his fists. Without having to say anything, Eris already understood how Finn felt; Iris hadn’t left him yet and he already felt like he was being skinned alive at the idea of the distance. “That’s cutting it a little close, no?”

A muscle flexed in Finn’s jaw. “He’s gotten a lot of commissions for the Equinox. People want gifts and he’s the best we have.” he said. “He can’t leave too early. He’s too well-known and it’ll make things suspicious.”

“Depending on what happens, he might not have much of a choice.” Eris said quietly and Finn’s expression hardened.

“We only have one choice, Eris.”

And that dread that coiled in his chest since they started planning for the ball tightened; it would end one way or another. Eris could only hold on to the hope they were all left standing in one piece.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #aoctar fanfiction #smtb chapters #gfics #hope to hear your thoughts in the tags/comments :)#to all my silent readers I love you and cherish you and I hope to hear from you!!#if you don’t want to be tagged anymore please let me know #no hard feelings :)

74 notes · View notes