#is he watching you and thus a voyeur?

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

"Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you..."

[lokis-army-77]

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.” 

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

And then the live is over. 

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 

He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’ 

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 

"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer. 

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

… 

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised. 

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” 

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise. 

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg. 

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yeah?” You whisper. 

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 

[goldsainz]

❝ NSFW ALPHABET ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . aemond targaryen x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . MINORS DNI! smut (unprotected sex, slight sub/dom dynamics, voyeurism, mummy kink (but not really), cum play, rough fucking), lewd language, slight mention of aemond’s first visit to the brothel, touch-starved aemond, barely proofread.

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . aemond’s behaviour in the bedroom.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . ignore that the man in the picture has dark hair, it’s hard finding good quality aesthetic pictures😔 requests are open for aemond (he’s a bad man but he’s my man okay… like i respect a good villain i’m sorry) (but also hate him cause why you beefing with lucerys and rhaenys…). anyway, happy reading i hope you all enjoy this!

[ word count: 2,6k ]

A — AFTERCARE . . . what they're like after sex!

Aemond doesn’t really know what aftercare truly entails, he learns how to be better at it with you. He will clean you if a mess is made, can run a bath if necessary, and then lay down with you. It takes time for him to cuddle, but eventually he caves in. He may not say it but he craves that affection and security by knowing you're so close to him. 

B — BODY PART . . . their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's!

THEIRS . . . His torso. It might be a weird thing to love about himself , but he most loves it because you cling around his waist and place your head against his chest. He is incredibly toned, just a mass of hard muscle but he can see the comfort you find in it. Another thing he loves is seeing the marks you leave on him, he’s prouder of those than any scar he receives while battling.

YOURS . . . He adores your tits. Adores watching the way they move when you’re breathing in those tight dresses you always complain about, he also adores resting his head on them and seeking comfort in the soft flesh. Aemond peppers kisses on them so much you have to resort to wearing high-neck dresses to hide the marks, which in turn means getting even more because your husband cannot control himself. 

C — CUM . . . anything to do with cum, basically!

This man is messy. He does not care where he cums, whether it's your face and chest when you suck him off or deep inside you, he’s a mess. You need to clean yourself thoroughly after being with him because he leaves you covered in it. He knows he could be more controlled with it, but something about you being sticky from his cum makes him feral and thus he cannot be any other way. He likes to takes his hand and spread over your body, placing his cum-covered hand and placing it between your lips and has you suck on them.

D — DIRTY SECRET . . . pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs!

Aemond wants to fuck you with an audience. He craves staking his claim over you for all the realms to see, to have the world see but never know how good you feel. Have you moan his name, make you desperate for him, while the others boil with envy at the connection the two of you have. Though, as much as the imagery makes him hard, he is far too possessive to ever really dare do it. 

E — EXPERIENCE . . . how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?

He has little to no experience. Aegon dragged him to a brothel once, but he didn't learn much from and rather steered away from that world. Still, Aemond loves to learn and study so he gathered whatever knowledge he could from books and then put them into practice when he married you. He learned all the little things that made you squirm, how to get certain noises from you, and how to take care of you. With time, he became an expert and you were always left more than satisfied from your activities. 

F — FAVOURITE POSITION . . . this goes without saying!

Mating press is his preferred position. He gets everything he wants from it, the intimacy from being able to see you and the dominance of having you pressed against him, willing to take whatever he gives you. The skin-to-skin contact, the intimate eye-contact and deep penetration makes him adore this position. It is raw and primal, all the things Aemond longs for when being intimate. 

G — GOOFY . . . are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

Aemond prefers it to be a serious moment. He finds that passion is what's most important during the act, with him willing you to submit to him while he takes charge. If something humorous occurs he won't be deterred by it, most likely indulging in what happened and slowly bringing the mood back into a more serious atmosphere. Truthfully, he’s not a person to joke around much and the bedroom will not be the place to start doing so. 

H — HAIR . . . how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Probably as well groomed as the times allow him to be. He finds it to be more comfortable, to be finely polished all-around, he’s a bit of a perfectionist and any thing that is not up to measure he detest. Have you seen how beautiful his locks are? That does not end in just the hair on his head. As for the carpet matching the drapes, his hair is that beautiful silver shade of white all over. 

I — INTIMACY . . . how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

He wants to be romantic, but he resorts to small shows of affection. He is deeply passionate but it does not come from a romantic place, more so an urge to claim you. In his head he wishes to be more romantic, to show his love for you in the sheets, but since he does not know how to properly do so he refrains from trying. Not that you seem to mind, you also lean into the more primitive ways he fucks you, rough and senselessly. Intimacy is displayed by the way he holds you, the eye contact you make (eyepatch off, he trusts you so he is totally bare), and the deep kisses he gives you.

J — JACK OFF . . . masturbation headcanon!

Only when he is away from you. His touch does not even begin to compare to yours, his hand is not as soft as yours or even as gentle. He much rather prefers to build up his need for you and  just wait to fuck you than the mediocre orgasm he could get with his own hand. 

K — KINK . . . one or more of their kinks!

Mommy kink… look at him and try to argue that. That man needs an affectionate touch, one that slightly resembles a child. It takes him a while to really lean into it, perhaps he does not outwardly call you “mommy” but his actions and the way he almost whines when you run your hands through his hair, he’s definitely thinking about calling you mommy so bad. Another kink he has is voyeurism, as previously mentioned, he fantasises way too much about that scenario. He has taken you in places where you could’ve gotten caught, that rush makes it all the more sweeter for Aemond. Being a dominant is also something he indulges in more, making you be his only and have you all to himself. That eagerness you have to submit to him, the look you give him almost like he’s a God? He could almost melt on the spot.   

L — LOCATION . . . favourite places to do the deed!

Anywhere where he can have you spread, eager for his touch and he can touch every single inch of your skin. He is not picky of the surface in which he fucks you on, Aemond is always ready to be inside you. While he prefers your bed because of its comfortability, he is actually not as picky as one might think. There was one time where he was in the council room, and he sneakily dragged you in and ravaged you on the council’s table. You trying to stifle your rooms, the risk of possibly getting caught and the rush he got from fucking you in a room that was not meant for such an act, it was all too much to bear. He sometimes dreams about that evening, wishing to repeat it.

M — MOTIVATION . . . what turns them on, gets them going!

Everything about you attracts him, but those moments when you act like a brat and give him attitude? Aemond does not know what to do with himself. In his mind all that he can muster up is the need to put you in your place, but not because he’s mad at you, never that; because he loves to be the one to tame you. Your combative attitude is reserved just for him, to the realm you're the picture of grace but to him? Sometimes you cross the line, if you weren’t his wife he’d surely punish you… and he does, but in a most pleasurable way. 

N — NO . . . something they wouldn't do, turn offs!

Anything that involves sharing. You’re only his, no other being deserves to be even looked by you, much less touched. He also wants you to be sound of mind when you’re intimate, if you’re drunk or asleep, he is not pursuing any sexual desires. Though when you’re drunk you’re much bolder, he is only amused by it not aroused. 

O — ORAL . . . preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

He quite likes being the receiver. There is nothing alike to the sight of you on your knees, pleasuring him as if it was your only duty. Aemond doesn’t mind being the one to go on his knees, with an eager tongue and the prize of your breathy moans. It is much harder for him to submit to you which is why he’d much rather you pleasure him. Even you like being under his mercy, giving him that dominance that he so craves. 

P — PACE . . . are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

Aemond is usually fast and rough, he fuck you so hard you can feel him for days and leaves your insides aching. He usually worries about his harshness, seeing you limp right after tugs at his heart. Yet, when he’s pounding in you and you scream for more, he forgets about most of those thoughts. He can be slow and sensual if he wishes, taking his time and making you cry for his touch, he sometimes needs that reassurance that you want him just as much as he wants you.

Q — QUICKIE . . . their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

He thoroughly enjoys a good quickie. It gives him a moment to relieve his stress, to have some semblance of comfort. Whether it’s his study or against one of the library shelves, he aches to have you even for just mere minutes. Aemond likes them so because it is a taste of what he will surely have later, it almost makes him need you and your touch more. It is safe to say he approves of quickies. 

R — RISK . . . are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

Taking risks is something he loves. He is always eager to try out a new position or christen a new place in the Red Keep. Aemond wants to try all that there is to partake in at least once, some he does again and some he swears to keep hidden, never to be mentioned again. Is he slightly too feral about all things related to sex? Mayhaps, but you enjoy it just as much as he does. 

S — STAMINA . . . how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

Aemond is a skilled swordsman, his stamina is off the roofs. He trains for hours on end, making himself the perfect warrior, it is not surprising that all that pent up energy is used on you and your bedroom activities. He can easily go for 2 - 5 rounds, lasting for about 8 minutes when he is inside you… though if he is needier, it could take just a few minutes. It is almost impossible to exhaust him, in fact, you’re sure he could be rustling all day between the sheets but as much as you love your husband, there is so much your body can take. 

T — TOYS . . . do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

He has some, but they are rare. It is not like he doesn’t like the, but he prefers you reaching your peak solely by his hand than another object. Besides, there are not many sexual toys to begin with. Not unless he visits a brothel or has them shipped from Essos.

U — UNFAIR . . . how much they like to tease!

Biggest tease on all of Westeros. He’s making you beg like there is a reward for it, has you squirming and whining for him to touch you more and to stop touching (though that is not what you truly want). He builds up your desire until you cannot form a coherent thought anymore. Aemond takes his time kissing your body, brushing his fingers against your bundle of nerves. He needs you to give yourself wholly to him, tears in your eyes as you beg him to claim you. 

V — VOLUME . . . how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Not really loud, he lets out rough grunts and breathy gasps when he ruts inside you or his cock is in your mouth, but that’s as far as it goes. He much prefers listening to the sounds you make, attentive to the way your body expresses all that you feel because of him. Aemond lets out a deep groan when he spills himself inside you, that is the moment he makes the most sound.  

W — WILD CARD . . . a random headcanon for the character!

Aemond once tried to coax you to let him touch you while riding on dragonback. It was a short trip above King’s Landing and he had decided to take you with him to spend more time together, and he took the opportunity to propose a wild idea (he still thinks it wasn’t that wild). But you only looked at him as if he were crazy, shaking your head side-to-side and turning down his proposition. There were many things you were willing to try, but this was too out there. You didn’t feel totally secure in the air to do such an activity, even if it was only touching. Also, poor Vhagar, she doesn’t deserve to be witness to such depravity… She just wanted to fly peacefully for once!

X — X-RAY . . . let's see what's going on under those clothes!

Around 14 cm or 5,5 inches. Though what makes him more impressive is how girthy he is. He hits all the right spots inside you, filling you to the brim. Aemond becomes so greatly skilled that there is no way you can complain about anything. 

Y — YEARNING . . . how high is their sex drive?

He is insatiable. Thinks about all the ways he wants to ravage you at least once a day. If you’re near him? That man is about to risk it all, lose all honours he has just to have a taste of you. Aemond needs to get off you, honestly, he is almost too attracted to you. He needs to have you at least once a day, he doesn't care about anything. You’re on your period? That man simply does not care. You are not feeling well? He knows something that could cheer you up. Nothing could deter him from being intimate with him. 

Z — ZZZ . . . how quickly they fall asleep after sex!

Only falls asleep once he knows you are, he likes to pretend it's for your safety but truly he enjoys watching you be so calm around him. Sleep does not come easy to him, usually plagued by nightmares and thus avoids fully giving himself to the darkness. But being with you helps, your body wrapped by his, hugging you tightly and caressing your hair. He admires your sleeping form and how beautiful you are, that soothes him. The best sleep he has ever gotten has been with you in his arms, no doubt about that. 

[pirateprincessblog]

cosmos

18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.

🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)

🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."

"come on, you piece of shit."

"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."

"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"

if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.

however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.

once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.

"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"

he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.

they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.

but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.

now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.

an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.

until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.

his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?

yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.

he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?

yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.

they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.

he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.

his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.

"good evening, sir. ready to order?"

yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.

"what are you?" he finally speaks.

"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"

yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.

"made for our service, right?"

"indeed, sir."

"then, can you activate my pod again?"

"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."

the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.

"it's just a few buttons."

"i'm sorry sir, but-"

"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.

"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."

"bullshit."

"perhaps the young lady can help."

yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.

"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.

the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.

"you." he says through gritted teeth.

"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.

"i don't want to know your fucking name."

"w-what?"

yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.

"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"

"do not talk about my mother."

"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"

"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.

tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?

"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"

"you think i just waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"

"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"

you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.

"right." he scoffs.

"you think he would lie to me?"

"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."

you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.

"that's what i thought."

"but... why would they let us board?"

"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.

you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.

"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.

"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"

yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.

"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"

"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."

yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.

"how long have you been awake?"

"about three weeks."

"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"

you laugh, "more like three years."

"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"

you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.

"i have."

"and?"

"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."

silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.

"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"

he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.

"i can try."

yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.

soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.

"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.

he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.

you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.

"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.

"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"

"y/n."

"beautiful." he compliments.

"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.

"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.

you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.

"shit."

he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"

"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."

"oh. alright, i hope you find it."

"it should be on the main screen."

after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.

"yeosang?"

"yes?"

"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."

yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.

"help me out."

a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.

"yeosang?"

you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.

"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"

"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"

you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.

"my lord."

he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.

"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."

"you say it like it's easy."

"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."

you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.

"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you can see outside?"

"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."

you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"

"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."

he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.

"let's go."

yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.

"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"

"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.

"let's stick to short for now."

"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."

the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.

"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."

the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.

"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.

yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.

"so, the cockpit?"

"woah, take me to dinner first."

as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.

"so he makes all the food too?"

"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."

he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.

"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."

when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.

"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."

"sounds nice."

you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.

"where did you get that?"

"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."

the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.

"uh..."

"trust me. take my hand."

everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.

he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.

"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.

"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"

"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."

you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."

"do you think anyone lives down there?"

you shrug, not having thought about it.

"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."

it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.

"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."

"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.

"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"

"yeosang!"

almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.

"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."

"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.

"they can... hear you?"

"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."

"understandable."

using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.

"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."

"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"

"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."

he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.

"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.

it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.

"this one."

"you sure?"

"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."

"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."

he nods, still taking in the room.

"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."

"wow, you've really done some exploring."

"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."

"thank you, y/n."

a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.

"yes?"

"are you awake?"

"now i am."

"sorry."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.

"what is it?"

"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.

"three in the morning."

"oh."

you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"

"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."

"then... go to the gym?"

"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"

"ah, the library"

"there's a library?!"

"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"

his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.

"sure."

"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.

"sure, if you don't mind."

"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."

it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.

the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.

you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.

light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.

yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.

"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.

you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.

you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.

by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.

"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.

"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.

the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.

"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"

"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."

"ah, i never watched it."

"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."

yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."

"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."

you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.

"is that okay?"

"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.

he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."

"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.

"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"

"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"

"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.

you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?

"need help getting up?"

"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."

"you'll catch a cold. come here."

without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.

"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."

"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."

"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"

"fine."

you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.

"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.

your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.

"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"

"i guess, yeah."

"good girl."

before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.

"does it hurt?" he whispers.

"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.

"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."

it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.

"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."

"alright, then. eight tonight?"

"sounds good. got your card?"

he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."

"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.

"ditto."

you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.

eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.

yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.

"don't you look handsome." you smile.

he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.

"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."

"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."

he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?

"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.

"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."

"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."

yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."

"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.

"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."

"will do, sir."

two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.

"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.

he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.

"yes, miss?"

"put on some music, please."

"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"

"play something by elvis."

even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.

but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.

"you smell nice." he compliments softly.

you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."

"macadamia?"

"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."

"i like it. better than my old spice supply."

it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.

"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."

your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.

"a discovery?"

"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.

"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.

he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.

"wait, the card! i left it on the table."

yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.

you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.

"i'll put you down now."

he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.

"can i have the card please?"

you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.

finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.

he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."

"that's right, poke the weak."

"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."

you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"

"why, too lazy?"

"maybe."

yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.

"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"

a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.

your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.

"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.

you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.

the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.

you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.

"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.

no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.

"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"

"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.

he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.

"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."

"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."

you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.

"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."

you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.

"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.

"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.

"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.

"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"

"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"

yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.

"what is it?"

"you look like a penguin."

"yeah, well, so do you."

"i know. you just look cute."

he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.

"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."

"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.

"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."

"you're the one to talk! you always-"

"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."

"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.

he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."

you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.

"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"

"yes."

"can you hear me?"

"duh."

"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.

"ah, yes. i can."

"good. i hope you don't have to pee."

"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."

"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."

yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.

"pressure stabilized."

"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.

with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.

just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.

"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"

"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."

"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.

"ow! hey, what, what?!"

"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"

"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."

"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.

he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."

"i believe you."

"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."

with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.

"i'll let go now, alright?"

"what if we drift away?"

"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."

you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.

"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."

"i'm scared."

"you want to go back?"

"no."

"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."

you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.

"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."

due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.

"look, down there." he points to the side.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"

it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center. 

"it's a nebula." he simply says.

"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."

"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."

"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."

"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."

"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.

both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.

"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"

"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."

"sorry," you smile sheepishly.

"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.

"not yet."

"want to go a bit furth-"

a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.

one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.

"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.

the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.

"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.

but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.

"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."

"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.

"no!"

your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.

it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."

you couldn't have known, yeosang.

"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."

there was no way for you to know, yeosang.

"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."

don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.

"you don't deserve this, i do."

if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.

"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"

you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.

"none of it makes sense without you."

you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.

"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."

i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.

kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.

"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.

there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.

"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."

already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.

"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"

"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."

"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."

"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."

"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."

"and what does that make me?"

"you can be my queen hand."

"not your king consort?"

"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."

"whatever you say, your grace."

yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.

now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.

he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.

"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"

he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.

"can you hear me?"

your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.

when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.

the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.

hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.

he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.

yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes. 

"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"

the man steps back, recognizing your voice.

"y/n?"

"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.

he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.

"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"

"i'm fine. a little dizzy."

"i thought i lost you."

not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.

"how dare you leave me alone?"

"is that a way to speak to your queen?"

he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.

you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.

he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.

his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.

gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.

his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.

"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.

"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"

"no, you can- oh."

you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.

the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.

you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.

him, all of him.

a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.

"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.

your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.

he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.

you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.

he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.

"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.

"yes?"

"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.

"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."

the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.

"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."

"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.

"i'm so sorry for what i did."

"don't apologize."

"i will. you almost died because of me."

"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.

he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.

yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.

"please?"

"what do you beg for, pretty?"

"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."

"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."

it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.

tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.

he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.

you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.

 your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.

unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.

"that's a good girl," he whispers.

you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.

"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.

"i want it just like this. me on top."

"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."

"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."

"that's my girl."

driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.

the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.

you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.

the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.

"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."

such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.

"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."

your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.

"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.

but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.

"my love..." he moans.

"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.

"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.

"my queen of cosmos."

the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.

the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.

the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.

yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.

or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.

"i love you."

"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.

the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.

today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.

"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."

"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.

"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"

"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."

and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.

"is the rose too much, ryan?"

"depends on the occasion, sir."

"let's say... proposal."

"i believe it is too little, sir."

"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."

ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.

"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.

"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."

yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"

"it's what started your new fate."

"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."

"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."

yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"

"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."

"what?"

"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"

"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.

"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"

"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."

"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."

a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.

you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.

he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.

"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.

"don't."

"b-but-"

"do. not."

"you have to understand- i- i was just-"

his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."

"yeosang, please."

"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."

"please, understand me!"

"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"

pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.

"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.

you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.

it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.

days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.

you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.

today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.

you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?

you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.

the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.

you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.

he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.

upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.

"thank you." you whisper.

he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"

"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."

he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."

a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.

"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.

"no, the moment is gone now."

"want me to repeat it?"

you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.

"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."

"terrarium. i need... fresh air."

"i was headed there too."

"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.

"you don't have to. come here."

before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.

after the life you stole from him.

"i can hear you thinking."

"sorry."

"stop apologizing."

"okay, sorry."

he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."

"uh... sorry?"

for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.

"i understand." he starts.

"you don't have to-"

"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"

"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.

"angelic?"

"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."

he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.

"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"

yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.

"i'm sorry."

"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"

"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."

"but, yeosang-"

"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."

"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."

"i love you too, princess. say..."

"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.

"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."

you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.

"i can't believe you had it right here."

"had what?" you shove it into his hand.

"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.

you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.

"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"

"i will, my queen hand."

🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)

@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed

[juyeonszn]

CYBER SEX

PAIRING eric sohn x f!reader x kim sunwoo

WORD COUNT 3.11k

GENRES smut yktv

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, this is Literally Porn With Plot, gamer!eric, gamer!sunwoo, i’m so sorry but sunwoo is a bitchless loser incel until he’s not a bitchless loser incel, eric has Game literally and figuratively, jealous sunwoo 🤭, exhibitionism, voyeurism, phone/video call sex?, vaginal fingering, male masturbation, unprotected sex, going at it on eric’s gamer chair 💪 , a good amount of praise, degradation (the words dumb and slut) 🫨, soft dom!eric, mean? dom!sunwoo, sunwoo is a little mean at one point but i’m not apologizing 😁👍, pet name princess is used, creampie 🥸, sunwoo is an idiot, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY eric is determined to show his best friend the benefits of having a girlfriend.

MORE hey… LMFOAOOO so i ended up finishing this in like… a day… 😭 what can i say ?1?1!1? when i have an idea, i Must stick with it <3 ANYWAY i got the inspiration for this after watching eric’s wv live on 09/25/23 and thus it has consumed my every waking thought since then ajejfwjdnen also shout out to reese to feeding my delusions and another shout out to doja cat for having the most out of pocket songs and titles bc she came in clutch fr 🤞 pls reblog if u enjoyed! i’m exhausted! (also this is not beta’d bc everyone was asleep and i also had to go to sleep so if there are any errors pls lmk)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

“Eric.”

Silence. You hear nothing but the sound of his keyboard clacking and his mouse clicking under his fingers from where he sits at his desk. You exhale through your nose, rolling your eyes.

“Eric Sohn.”

Again, you’re given nothing to work with. He curses under his breath, something about him being outnumbered and needing a cover. You don’t even know what game he’s playing, just that he’s been playing it for over an hour. You’re starting to get annoyed.

What kind of boyfriend tells his girlfriend to come over and then plays his stupid online game instead of talking to her?

When you get out of a long day of work, you just want to relax. You don’t want to lay on your boyfriend’s bed all by yourself, forced to watch him play a game you didn’t care for, much less understand. You burn holes into the back of his head when he starts swearing at the screen, hovering over his chair and leaning closer to the PC.

“Youngjae!”

That finally catches his attention, pushing one side of his headset off so he can hear better. He keeps his eyes on the screen but turns his head towards you, humming in response. “What’s up, baby?”

“Is your girlfriend there?”

“Yeah dude, shut up.”

You recognize the other voice as belonging to his best friend, Kim Sunwoo. Your lips form a pout and you flop backward on his bed. “I’m bored. And I wanna cuddle.”

“After this round, I promise.” He smiles at you, returning his focus to the match he was in. His fingers move quickly on the same four backlit keys, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in concentration. From your perspective, it just looked like his character was running aimlessly. (Apparently he had an agenda.)

“Bruh, you said we were gonna play until we won one.” Sunwoo complains. Your mouth forms a scowl. No wonder the guy was still bitchless. He had no concept of how girlfriends were maintained.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.” Your boyfriend says into the mic, tone monotone and no mirth behind the words. You know he wasn’t trying to be intimidating, but it kind of turns you on to see him so focused, his jaw slightly tensed and his bottom lip now between his teeth.

It had been about a week since you last did anything sexual, and you think that paired with your mind numbing work day was the cause for your sudden rush of hormones. You’d think dating a gamer would mean he wasn’t skilled in the sexy department, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, being so adept with his fingers made him that much better than the average person. Eric’s eyes narrow when he sees a group of players in the distance.

“Dude, back me up. We can take them, we can take them,” he commands, sitting back down at the same time he starts shooting at the other characters. Sunwoo’s comes into view on the other side of the monitor, also firing at the group of maybe four.

With a lazy sigh, you stand from his bed, sitting yourself on the edge of his desk. He offers you a small smile before resuming the intense gameplay he was engaged in. You cross your legs not so subtly due to his appearance, his hair falling into his eyes and his brows knitted together. You wanted him so bad right now. Fucking Kim Sunwoo would pay for being a cockblock.

You nudge his knee with your foot, silently whining in hopes he gets the hint. He holds a finger up to you, leaning into the monitor again. You know what they say; if you want something done, you gotta do it yourself.

You perch yourself on his lap, grinning in sweet victory when his expression falters and he accidentally releases the mouse from his grip. The momentary distraction is enough for his character to get killed, the screen flashing to showcase Sunwoo’s character’s point of view. Eric’s shoulders sag and he gives you a pointed look. You simply bat your eyelashes at him, lips curling into an innocent simper.

“What the fuck, Eric? You said we could take them.”

“My fault,” he apologizes, reclining in his seat and wrapping an arm around your waist as he watches Sunwoo. “You got this, bro.”

Right as he says that, his character also dies, the monitor reading ‘Match Over’ almost instantaneously. He shares an amused snort with you upon jinxing his best friend, one of his hands rubbing up and down your bare thigh. You can hear Sunwoo cussing him out through his headset. Eric winces, unplugging it from the headphone jack so his friend’s grievances weren’t directly in his ears.

“—And it’s all because you can’t keep your dick in your pants, you fucking horndog.”

You snicker at that, slapping a hand over your mouth when you realize that it might’ve been a little too loud. Eric shakes his head at the other male’s irritation. From where he stood, it sounded a whole lot like jealousy rather than anger. The guy really needed to get laid before gaming consumed him entirely and he stayed a loser incel for the rest of his life. Eric was lucky enough to have you in his corner.

“What’s so funny, Y/N?”

“You,” you shrug even if he can’t see it. “I think it’s kinda comical that you’re mad Eric gets pussy. You should take notes, Kim.”

Your boyfriend bursts into uncontrollable laughter, squeezing your thigh gently. You can hear Sunwoo sputter over your words, stumbling and stuttering every time he opens his mouth to speak. You’ve rendered him speechless, because you’re right. He is jealous that Eric has a girlfriend.

If it were any other girl, he doesn’t think he’d give a shit. But it was you. He wasn’t envious of the fact that his best friend was cuffed and he wasn’t. He was envious of the fact that he had you.

Something that doesn’t get brought up a lot, is how Sunwoo actually introduced you to Eric. He knew you first. Naturally, he thought that his tiny crush on you would blossom into something greater, especially because you saw each other twice a week. You were lab partners for Gen Chem and you became friends outside of class pretty quickly. He didn’t think he was terrible looking, and his personality wasn’t that bad either, so he hoped you might’ve been into him too.

And then you met Eric. God, he should’ve known bringing you together was a horrible idea. His best friend was not only extremely handsome, but also quite the flirt and a little too friendly. You were hooked from the get go. Sunwoo really shouldn’t have been that surprised when the two of you started dating.

That didn’t mean it didn’t suck though, having you constantly ask about Eric during your lab and slowly watching you distance yourself the closer you grew to him. It explained why you were so comfortable shitting on his lack of relationship experience, because once upon a time, you were something he could confide in. It was actually sort of hilarious that you were the same reason why he lacked said experience.

Now it’s been over a year and he still doesn’t think he could ever fully get over you.

“Damn, Sunwoo, you really just got your ass handed to you.”

The older of the two males deadpans at his screen, despite knowing neither of you can see him. But now that he’s been backed into a corner, all he can do is save face. “Having a girlfriend is the least of my worries.”

Eric hums, unconvinced. “Maybe I just have to show you what you’re missing out on.”

You turn in his lap, raising an eyebrow. What the hell did he mean by that?

Luckily for you, you don’t have to wonder for much longer. He clicks on his and Sunwoo’s chat in the bottom taskbar, pressing the video call button and allowing it to ring for a few seconds. This gives you the smallest idea of what he has in mind, and deep, deep down, you’re excited by the thought.

Sunwoo answers after the fourth ring, his face appearing in its own window on Eric’s monitor, pouty lips formed in a straight line and headset hidden under his hoodie. He looks sexy like that, in his element. You would never admit that out loud though. He was too attractive for his own good. He didn’t even know what to do with the beauty bestowed on him, resorting to being a gamer who holed himself away in his apartment.

“What am I supposedly missing out on then?” He finally says, and even with the not-so-stellar quality of his video, you recognize that dark look in his eyes. It has you shifting uncomfortably on Eric’s lap, desperate for some friction.

“Well first of all,” your boyfriend starts, brushing your hair behind your shoulder and sneaking a hand under the t-shirt of his you were wearing. “You should cut your losses now. Because no one could ever be better than my precious, Y/N.”

You crane your neck to the side, giving his lips access to your skin. He starts to pepper gentle kisses along the side, making eye contact with you in the smaller window that reflects yourself. Your mouth parts with a sigh when he reaches that sensitive spot just below your ear, and again when he nips at the juncture where it meets your shoulder.

It’s hard to focus on anything but Sunwoo’s expression and the way his jaw clenches upon not being able to touch you himself. And fuck, if Eric wasn’t right. He could never truly find anyone better than you. This was the closest he’d ever get to the real deal.

“You gonna be a good girl for Sunwoo, baby?” Eric murmurs into your ear, nibbling the lobe as his hand travels further up your shirt to palm your bare breast. You merely nod, a small whine escaping your lips when his thumb grazes your peaked nipple.

“Are you seriously about to fuck your girlfriend in front of me?” His best friend asks, voice a bit strained. The concept of you naked in just his head was enough to have him creaming his pants like a goddamn high schooler. But actually getting to see it with his own eyes? Getting to see your face when you orgasm? He doesn’t think he has the mental strength.

“Do you not want me to?” Eric slips his free hand between your legs, pushing your panties to the side. “I can easily end this call and keep this all to myself.”

Your boyfriend takes his silence as an answer, continuing to pleasure you. He helps you pull off the t-shirt, exposing your chest to both him and his best friend. Sunwoo holds his breath, leaning back into his gaming chair with his bottom lip between his teeth. You raise one of your legs, placing your foot on Eric’s knee to give him a clearer view of what’s going on with your lower half.

Eric holds the thin material of your underwear out of the way, languidly thrusting his ring and middle fingers into your hole. You rest your head on his shoulder with a low moan, observing Sunwoo’s different reactions, though he tries to mask them. Even he knows he’s doing a shitty job, because how could any sane person not lose their mind perceiving what he is.

“Need more,” you whimper, tongue darting out to swipe across your lips. “I need more, please…”

“Well, since you asked so kindly,” Eric grins against the side of your head, kissing your temple as he adds a third finger and begins to circle your clit with his thumb. “How could I say no to you, princess?”

The stretch burns slightly, but not too much that it distracts from how good you feel. You half wished your boyfriend suggested this a long time ago. Having someone else’s eyes on you while he fucked you open with his fingers just added more fuel to the fire, rousing the squelching sound your pussy made. The fact that it happened to be Kim Sunwoo just made the experience that much thrilling.

Your heavy eyes glance back to the screen, getting a glimpse of his entranced face. It took everything in him to bite his cheek and keep his mouth shut, longing to extend an arm through his PC and put his own hands all over you. You looked so hot, legs splayed open so he had a perfect view of Eric’s fingers scissoring in and out of your cunt.

“Please, Eric…” You plead. For what? You’re not sure yourself.

“What do you want, baby?”

“Want you to fuck me for real,” you attempt to meet his fingers, telling him all he needs to know.

He grabs your jaw and turns you to face him so he can kiss you, lips moving against yours so softly you might melt in the palms of his hands. You aid him with ridding his pants and his briefs, shoving them down to his ankles so he can kick them off. Your mouth nearly waters, having missed his cock in the past week you’d been apart.

You take a hold of the edge of his desk, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he slips the tip of his dick into the warmth of your cunt. A drawn out whine bubbles up from your throat, risking a look at Sunwoo. He’s still, legs manspread and arms crossed over his chest. By the time Eric’s bottomed out, you’re no longer coherent, brain jumbled.

Your boyfriend begins to move after allowing you to adjust to the fullness of his cock sheathed to the hilt in you. You sit back on him, practically cradling his head as he leisurely fucks you. In spite of him moving without a rush, you can feel all of him, so deep inside of you, you think you could faint.

“You’re— oh god— Eric…” you moan, unable to formulate a comprehensive sentence.

He chuckles lowly, the sound reverberating along your spine. “Don’t forget to include our guest, baby.”

“T-Take off your pants, Sun,” your tone wavers, vision cutting in and out as Eric’s pace increases. “Wanna see you get yourself off…”

Sunwoo groans, covering his face and dragging his hand down to his mouth. He’d barely put his dick inside of you and you already looked so fucked out. He wants to follow through with your wishes, but how can he with your boyfriend right there? Then again, it was Eric’s idea to do this and he did have you spread out in front of him. He needed to act fast, for this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

He pushes his sweatpants and underwear down mid thigh, freeing his painfully hard cock. He doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed by the pearl of precum that’s sitting pretty on his slit, using his thumb to smear it around his tip. You mewl, digging your nails in the armrest of Eric’s chair and tugging at his hair.

Your boyfriend’s best friend grabs the base of his dick hesitantly, sighing when it brings momentary relief. He starts to jerk the shaft, twisting his wrist and pumping his hand up and down. He feels so much lighter, like a part of his guilty conscience had just been lifted from his chest. He didn’t have to feel so ashamed of jerking himself off to the thought of you now that he’d been given permission to do so. And in front of you, nonetheless.

“Fucking look at you,” Sunwoo all but growls, fist wrapped tightly around his cock as he bucks up into his hand, head falling back with a groan. “Nothing but talk, aren’t you? Getting off to the loser watching you get fucked like a dumb slut.”

You moan loudly, keeping your hooded eyes on his video. Eric tightens his grip around your hips, holding you in place as he fucks up into you almost brutally, face buried into the crook of your neck. You feel insane, Sunwoo’s degradation inching you closer and closer to your sweet release.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Eric coos, pressing open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulders. “Taking me so fucking well, like the good girl you are.”

The contrast between the two males’ approach has your head spinning. On one hand, you had your doting boyfriend and his endless praise. The thought of impressing him always multiplied the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You wanted to do anything and everything to keep him satisfied. On the other hand, you had Sunwoo and the string of near insults he kept hurling at you. Something about him calling you demeaning names while still fucking his own fist at the sight of you had those butterflies going rampant.

“I’m— shit— I’m so s-so close,” you babble, reaching down to rub ovular motions into your already sensitive clit.

Sunwoo didn’t think he’d last long from the second he touched himself, so he can’t imagine what will happen when he takes in you orgasming. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, tasting the bitter metal-like flavor of the red fluid as his hand speeds up.

“Cum for me, princess,” Eric groans in your ear, fingers sliding down to help you apply more pressure to your clit. “Cum all over my cock for Sunwoo.”

You wail as you hit your climax, toes curling and back arching into your boyfriend’s chest. Your walls squeeze around his dick, triggering his own release. He paints the inside of your cunt with sticky white ropes and a grunt, plugging you up as your breathing regulates and your body stops shaking. You both gaze through the monitor as his cum starts to leak out of you, your pussy filled with so much that you’re surprised he didn’t pass out.

Sunwoo follows after that, coating his hands and thighs in his own ejaculation. He sits there for a minute, eyes closed as he process what the fuck just happened. Once the fogginess of the moment subsided, he feels his heart rate spike. Now that he knows what you look and sound like, how could he ever see you the same?

“Uh, woah that’s crazy, someone’s calling me. Gotta go, bye!” He lies, ending the call before either you or Eric can properly register his words. He reclines in his chair with a pinch of the bridge of his nose.

There was no going back from this.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Lots of lovely kisses & an unwarranted upset in the standings

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Oct 2024 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 2 of 16 - Yes yes J&J should be first but I am weak in the face of, well, frankly this man's face:

Pond = greatest piner in a dog’s age. The yearning in that boy’s eyes is obscene, it’s like the most explicit sex that only he can see and we’re just voyeurs.

Thus I continue to adore this stupid show and everything it stands for. No notes. May the fluff continue eternal.

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 5 of 12 - Everyone is so skilled in this show, but War is truly glorious. Considering the pacing, I think we are probably in for some long periods of darkness, suffering, and pain soon. I’m not mad about that prospect, it’s earned and foreshadowed, I just thought I’d lay it out there.

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 - More boys from GMMTV with good communication. Who knew? Min has SUCH a white knight complex. NO SINGING. Good demanding kiss, though. Well, Ohm can handle anything. 

Meanwhile, this really is a bodyguard romance under another name. And I kinda wanna rewatch Never Let Me Go as a result.

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 4 of 15 - Earn remains best boy and my favorite character. Phun is v jelly, as he should be. AND I like Ohm & N'Mik better in this version. I still prefer the original leads, but I’m enjoying this enough. 

I had no idea how much I missed Gunsmile! It’s so nice to see him on my screen again.

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 12 fin - I hate Diew’s mom. Hate her. So much. She may be my least favorite mom ever in BL. That’s saying a lot. No I don’t think she was redeemed. 

Conclusion

Adapted from the novel Godzilla Next Door by Jiwinil about an introvert who lives mostly in his room, until a loud annoying extrovert moves in next door. This was one of my top picks for 2024 and I’m delighted to say it satisfied expectations. A charmingly serene story of opposites attract, that featured good communication, patience, and genuine affection used to build a solid relationship.(I’m particularly delighted that our musician is a drummer and I don’t have to listen to him sing.) Yes it’s a tad slow but it’s very earnest and leans into the kind of sweetness that Thai BL does best. Doesn’t hurt that this starred an actor (Big) that many of us have been hoping would get a lead for years. I was pleased and comforted. This is not a kind of BL that suits everybody, but it suited me admirably. 8/10 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 10 of 12 - Ozone and the Ice Prince (name still unknown) did their little dance. What an earnest and romantic confession from our Icy man. I literally said “no no no just kiss, no foreheads.” And it was a great crying kiss, my favorite. Honestly, that amount of emotion hadn’t been earned by this pair, but I don’t mind. I could watch a whole show just about them. Also woah! Major nekid on YT?

Thailand......

Risking demonetization for arse…...

I guess we’ve all been there. 

Where was I?

I’m happy with this episode since it was mostly my side couple. But the distribution of main couple and side couple and the focus of each episode is wildly erratic with this show. It’s very odd. (And let's be clear we ordered errotic not erratic.)

Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Jade and Chin have lived over a thousand lifetimes. In each one they somehow manage to fall in love with each other. (This pair, TopMick was piloted in a My Universe ep, that was one of the only ones I liked.) Soulmate premise is a mix of Color Rush and La Pluie. Frankly, this isn’t as good as either, but it’s enjoyable in a slow cheerful way. Especially if you like this particular set of tropes. It’s quietly lovely and I like the leads. Sunshine is very very sunshine and our tsundere is a grumpy mysterious nerd. Trigger for domestic abuse. It looks like each episode is gonna be a completely different meet cute with the same pairing. It’s more linked vignettes than any overarching story. So if you don’t like this pair, you won’t like this series.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 9 of 10 - More sports day. (Everybody’s doing sports days right now.) Random sides kissing. Where did the glasses person come from? Was he introduced and I forgot about it? Oh that’s the evil cousin! Okay… anygay. Sides randomly flip-flop who they like and I don’t know what the fuck is going on. This show. I swear. Ooo caught kissing. And… killed? What a mind fuck of a soap opera. Honestly, I’m fine if he’s dead, I don’t care at this point I just feel jerked around. 

For some reason no eng sub for me for the first half. So I watched with Spanish subs (which is about as good as my Thai, only for different words). What a wild experience.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Oh dear. I just can’t imagine ever rooting for this couple. Which means… Why am I watching this? 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 1-2 of 7 - Oh I love it. Casual flirty westernized-style boss. Reserved reluctant cutie (yes we’ve seen the actor before). Is it disgusting workplace harassment? Oh most certainly. Do I enjoy it anyway? Yep, I’m warped. No defense, but at least it’s something from Korea. 

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 3 of ? - I like the lead being bullied and pushed to his limit thus turning into a psychopath. It’s gonna be a fun ride if it really goes Devil Judge just teens and actually gay. I wonder if it has the strength of its convictions? 

Our Golden Times (Hong Kong YT) 5 fin? - I guess that is the reunion? What an odd little piece. I’m not entirely sure what I feel about it except that this feels more BL than anything Hong Kong has given us so far (which isn't much). The subs are truly terrible. Since I speak absolutely zero Cantonese I can’t really fix them in my brain. I thought this was the final ep but then a teaser for ep 6 dropped so I we have at least one more. 

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - It was a nice, if entirely unearned reunion. And the leads do kiss beautifully. Trust Taiwan. I am so glad that Orca is back! There was even a little language play flip-flopping just for me. Very cute. Also GREAT kissing. How long have we been waiting for Thailand and Taiwan to kiss? 

Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 1-2 of 12 - Silkwood’s 2nd Thai/Korean colab. This has been in production since 2022 which is a LONG time in the BL world (worrying). But I like the concept: friends of 10 years who’ve been hiding feelings for each other enter the same university. Plus MURDER. Stars Yoon Jun Won (The Man BLK) and Thai actor Save Saisawat (Ai Long Nhai). I begin to think every The Man BLK member will eventually lead out a BL at this point.

It’s enjoyable in a weird way. Grumpy (hottie with a crush) + sunshine (captain oblivious). I gotta say, since this is the second relationship dual lingo style in our BL rn that it’s ALWAYS weird if the other half doesn't occasionally code switch languages, especially for specific words. In other words, the Korean dude is supposed to at least understand Thai, occasionally he’s should use a Thai world to get a point across. And the Thai dude is there to STUDY KOREAN, he should be slipping in and out of Korean regularly. Bah. 

It's airing but...

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 5 of 10 eps - I never managed to get hold of ep 5. Frankly, it’s going to Netflix (I don’t subscribe) so I might not finish this out of sheer laziness. 

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Gangster and His Boyfriend (Korea ????) 8 eps? - was supposed to air 10/10 Kim Dong Bin (famous trainee & idol reality competitor, yeah that happens) stars as a fallen idol who unexpectedly becomes entangled in a gangster family. Discovers that his friend’s father is responsible for the murder of his entire family years ago. I don't know much about this one, neither does anyone else and I'm not sure where I got that release date so……

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming Oct 2024:

10/17 Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) 8 eps - High school student Do Hoe lives with his violent and brutal father who runs a Taekwondo gym in a rural area. One day, cheerful Ju Young arrives, he dreams of going to college for Taekwondo. Joy begins to fill Do Hoe's dark life. An unexpected incident forces them apart, they reunite ten years later.

10/21 Love in the Big City (Korea ????) 8 eps - Okay, this is both a movie (already out) and a series. Neither one is likely BL and I can't imagine it will end happily. I'm giving both a pass but here's your synopsis.

Cynical fun loving student Young pinballs from home, to class, to on night stands. He and Jaehee, his female besie and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and hookups.

10/23 See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga & Viki) 10 eps? - Zi Xiong, a third-generation heir, attempting to flee from taking over their family business, meets and falls in love with Shao Peng, who works as a hearing-impaired nurse. From the same production house as Kiseki Dear To Me in partnership with Shinehouse Theatre, funded by Taiwan’s BIGART + Japan's Rakuten (Viki). Show includes Lin Chia Yo (Be Loved in House: I Do). Director Chiang Ping Chen’s childhood experiences with his deaf uncle have inspired the drama.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Addicted Heroin

Incidentally he didn’t ask to “be with Ter” he asked if he could flirt/court him. jeeb doesn’t really have a direct translation, but it isn’t “be with.” 

Fourever You

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

WANTED: Ghost x Reader x König [HEAVY SMUT]

Warnings: Consensual Non-Con, Threesome, Double Penetration, Stomach Bulging, Fem Reader [Male Fic in Production], Forced Breeding/Pregnancy Kink, Corruption Kink, Virginity Kink, Roleplay, Size Kink, Sir Kink, Daddy Kink, Humiliation Kink, Lactation Kink, Breastfeeding Kink, Forced Petplay, Dumbification, Sadism, Bondage, Unprotected Sex, Possessive Sex, Cum Play, Creampie, Breath Play, Knife Play, Cutting, Blood, Wax Play, Masks Stay On, Beating/Spanking W/ a belt, Struggling, Resistance, Man Handling of Reader, Voyeurism, Oral (Male Receiving), Overstimulation, Forced Orgasms, Marking, Nipple Play, Attempted Forced Female Masturbation, Burning W/ a Lighter, Fingering, Male Masturbation, Forced Oral (Giving), Anal, Plugging, Plugs, Threats of Physical Violence, Degradation, Blackmail, Explicit Smut, Smut, Profanity, Pussy Slapping, Angry Fucking, Biting, Kidnapping. [EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL AND PRE-AGREED TO BEFORE THE FIC STARTS].

Wordcount: 14,695

They’d plucked you from your home and forced you into another, one which you hadn’t seen, even after they tore the sack from your head.

A camera sat on the dresser, its red eye blinking, gleaming, recording the silence. A candle resided next to it, rouge and unused. The room held a sickly disposition, lit by a single lamp on the bedside.The door, wooden, burst open, almost splintering and swinging off its hinges. The camera paid attention, finally having something to record.

König ignored your kicking and screaming as he threw you onto the bed, Ghost shadowing him, locking the door and throwing the key atop the dresser. You scrambled to the furthest corner, breathing heavily, eyes blown wide. Both men stood before you now, their manhoods throbbing and tearing against the fabric of their pants, tenting them. “You’ve left us no choice, girl.” Ghost said, voice heavy and raspy with what one could only describe as carnal lust. The masks they wore made it impossible to tell what they were thinking, but given how they’d handled you thus far, you could practically taste it. “No, please–” you whimpered, pressing yourself further into the corner, crossing your legs and trying to conceal the coveted prize which König and Ghost so desired above all else. But they weren’t having any of it. Ghost began sliding his belt from his trousers, the sound of leather against denim sibilant in your ear, all the while making his way round to the other side of the bed. His eyes glinted in the dim light, revealing no humanity within. Gone. Eradicated. Though that suggested he had any to begin with. You had nowhere to run. He was slow. Intentional. When he’d unsheathed his belt, he folded it in half and clapped the two sides of leather together, sending a crack of thunder resonating within the room. It made your insides ache and your flower throb, creating a continental patch of wetness on your underwear. Ghost smirked beneath his mask. König watched, guarding the door, palming himself through his trousers. “If you didn’t want this, you should’ve thought about that before talking to strangers.” His voice sent shivers down your spine. All the while, König undid his belt and slid it from his pants, his nigh-concealed gaze making his intentions all too apparent to you.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you about that?” came König’s voice. He watched you, eyes never leaving you. “Or…perhaps we are the ones to teach you–” the belt swayed in his grip, “--to discipline you.” You could feel the shiver run down his spine as he spoke. You wanted to be sick. “I thought you needed hel–ah!” König grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him, wrenching a gasp from your lungs and leaving you drawn and exposed. Ghost wasted nothing of the opportunity and slid his belt around your wrists, pulling it tight so you couldn’t break free. You yelped, thrashing, trying to release yourself from the two mens’ grip, but to no avail. König practically pounced on you, making sure you were squarely beneath him, slapping a hand over your mouth.

His weight was nearly too much for you to withstand, twice that of a normal man’s and sodden with years of murderous intent. He had you pinned without, at his mercy.

“Should’ve gagged her,” he said, vaguely casting Ghost a glance. Most of his attention was on you, the fear in your eyes as tears gathered there. The rest of it was on the evening’s events, all of which entailed some horrible thing done to you and you alone.

He rocked his hips against your cowering frame, icy stare dimming only when his eyes shut, the diluted pleasure he felt now nothing compared to that which he would feel at the expense of your suffering.

“Wouldn’t be able to hear her pretty little cries then, would we?” Ghost said, casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. König let out a scoff, or perhaps a laugh.

“Yes,” he relented, running a finger down the side of your face, streaking your tears across your skin. “You’re right.” His eyes traversed the contours of your face, stopping at your eyes. Looking into them, drinking the emotions that resided within them, he read you like the open book you’d become. You, on the other hand, saw nothing in his; void, save for the half-lidded, manic mist which descended upon his very form.

His touch trailed down your cheek, your throat, then stopped at the collar of your shirt. Only then did he look away from your face. “Need to get these off before we start.” The way König spoke felt institutional - like this was a practice rather than an attack. Ghost made a waving, dismissive gesture, reaching below the bed for something. You wondered how they’d do it, with scissors, or their bare hands–

From beneath his shirt, concealed, König withdrew a knife; thick, military and real. You gasped, tears clinging to your periphery as you did to any hope of surviving this ordeal. König’s head tilted, Ghost still rifled for something beneath you.

“Shh, sweet girl, shh - it’s okay!” König’s eyes crinkled, becoming half moons, eclipsing the malice that radiated from him, smoke. His breathing grew heavier, the bulge in his pants became ever more apparent to you the longer he spent atop you. You felt his hips rock, carefully, once. He poised the tip of the knife to your collar, and dragged it, slowly, down the expanse of your abdomen. You tried not to breathe - tried to prevent any unwanted movement that would give him reason enough to gut you right now.

It was sharp, and you knew it was only via König’s sheer resistance and will that it didn’t penetrate your clothing and leave a long slice down your front. Though the phantom pain followed, the layer of an alternate universe - an alternate you - passing over your own; one where you were not so fortunate, where your screams were heard infinities across.

König‘s eyes trailed the blade. His breath shuttered as the tip came to the waistband of your pants. He rutted again, stifling a groan. Ghost rose, his shadow resting over you, a shroud. He watched, holding something that was just out of your line of vision by his side.

The sound of cloth tearing brought your attention back to König, and it took everything in you not to jump, not to forfeit yourself to the blade. You swallowed thickly, throat drying, adrenaline and scorching ice coursing through you. You tilted your head back, narrowly avoiding the tip of Konig’s knife as it ascended the length of your shirt, exposing your middle to your captors. König’s eyes remained on your skin. He brought a hand to the thin trail exposed to him, felt the length of it, making you shiver. Then tore it from you.

The material was thrown to the dark recesses of the room, left to be feasted upon by the shadows that resided within.

Your pants were the next article to be destroyed, spared of the wrath of the knife, yet resigned to an ever more brutal fate. König ripped them apart, catching your panties in the crossfire, leaving you in only your bra. Even he seemed as shocked as you, leaning back to take in what he and Ghost had gone through so much effort for. Ghost leaned over you, drinking in your body.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy tonight,” König said, his gaze flitting up to meet Ghost’s. He slid the knife up the bridge of your bra and freed it from you. Tore it from you.

“You’d be hard pressed not to.” At that, Ghost raised his hand, revealing what he’d been sorting through the underbed for.

A lighter.

He flipped the top open and rolled his thumb against the flint wheel, coaxing it to life. The flame erupted, dancing.

Your heart was in your mouth, your mind convulsed, your body wanted to follow. You needed to get out. Now. With a pillar of a man at either end of you and your hands bound, you scanned the room. The only entrance and exit was the (now locked) door, the key to which slept on the dresser; between which two mammoths of men - of soldiers - stood.

Yet, you saw a chance.

Taking advantage of the added weight of your hands being bound, you slammed your clasped fists down on König’s chest, taking him off-guard and making him stumble, fall back. You bucked your hips up, forcing him off you. He grunted, a noise of surprise. And you scrambled. Ran.

The phantom of Ghost’s fingers almost tangling in your hair bristled against you, his thick accent prevalent in the guttural “Grab her!” as he commanded König.

You tore the key from the dresser, fumbled it into the lock. All the while, Ghost’s rapidly advancing footsteps grew closer, as did König’s, the sound of boulders against concrete in your ears. You flinched, tensing, as you felt Ghost’s shadow cover you, his red hot anger radiating from him like steam. You turned the key, a lick away from salvation. But your efforts were all in vain. Instead of grabbing you by your hair or your arm, you felt something that made your blood run cold. A cool, snakeskin-like material slid around your throat and yanked you back. Hard.

Your hands flew to your throat, feeling a belt pressed tightly against it. You grappled, choking for air as Ghost forced you flush against his chest, his heart pounding against your back as yours did against your ribs. The sound of your stifled breath filled the room.

Ghost pulled you back, further into the room and deeper into your demise.

“You little whore,” he seethed. His eyes scorched marks into your skull. You scarcely heard him over your own struggle for survival, but his voice - his words - were unmistakable. “I have the good sense to break your fuckin’ neck right here, right now.” He pulled the belt tighter around your throat, his knuckles turning white, veins bulging in his arms and hands. He did not surrender, even as you clawed at his hands, scuffed the belt with your nails, the sound of you choking on leather a broken record. Tears sprang to your eyes; your vision was starting to darken, tendrils in your periphery. You swore you could feel your body wilting - dying - where you stood.

Yet, in all his infinite mercies, Ghost dropped the belt and threw you onto the bed, relinquishing your throat of König’s deadly wardrobe. You fell back, swallowing air as if it were your last breath, König nearby having watched the whole scene, eyes wide. Frantic.

You were granted little reprieve, however. The crack of leather against your skin, the burn, shocked you from your near-death haze, making you bolt upright and gasp.

Your eyes were wide as they fell upon Ghost’s hulking figure, shoulders heaving with every breath he took, the belt wrapped around his tattooed arm like a snake would a villain, the end practically smoking with the force with which it bit you. You watched each other, a stand-off. Though, Ghost wouldn’t call it that; a stand-off suggested that you at least had a way to defend yourself.

“Hold her down. Don’t let her get away.” Ghost addressed König, who, like lightning, struck, taking your belted wrists in his hands and hoisting you up, pulling you so far against himself that you thought your arms would tear. You writhed, trying to escape König’s grip, but his strength and Ghost’s stare discouraged you, subdued your efforts with the promise of punishment. Ghost reared up then snapped the belt against your thigh, a clap of flesh thunder filling the room. You cried out, tried to bring your knees into your chest to protect yourself, but Ghost was having none of it. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, striking you with the belt once he had you splayed out before him. And he kept hitting you. Over and over again, long past the point of tears soaking your face, your screams making your throat rasp, and your legs, stomach and cunt raw red with sensitivity and injury. Agony. Everything hurt, stinging and pulsing and throbbing - anguish in its most visceral form. And Ghost stood over you, chest and shoulders heaving, a mirror, the same man he’d been before.

“I wouldn’t’ve had to do this if you’d just behaved,” he said, slamming the belt against your cunt like a drum. Again. And again. An infinity, it seemed; this spiral cycle of discipline. The curve of the belt was soaked in sweat, blood staining the edge of it, dried - the only indication of any time having passed. You wailed beneath him, voice cracking as you begged him to cease - pleaded with him to spare you. König gave little comfort as he only watched, forcing you into stillness when you thrashed and jolted, no doubt smiling beneath the veil. Your voice hitched like an old radio channel as you asked - groveled - for him to stop, please, I can’t take any more - I-I’m sorry!

Ghost refused to relent. “You brought this on yourself, you little bitch.” His words rang low with absolution. Conviction. He lashed the belt across your thigh once more, then stepped - staggered - back, seemingly exhausted by his own vigour. Cold air felt like ice against your skin, and in that moment of salvation, you dared to hope that perhaps this phase of the punishment was over.

“Flip her over.” Ghost shattered your dreams without so much as a second look. Your gaze darted to his face, trying to find a hint of jest or leniency there. There were neither.

König released you, grabbed and forced you onto your front, then took your wrists hostage again. Ghost gave no time for you to adjust to the bedsheets running coarse against your raw skin, your thighs rubbing the skin of your raw pussy - before skinning you with the belt again. He went for where it’d hurt most for the next week or so; the backs of your thighs and cheeks.

“Be grateful I’m not making you count ‘em,” Ghost said. “Or we’d be here all night.” He placed the edge of the belt against your shoulder, making you flinch, and dragged it to the small of your back. “And trust me, I can do this all night.” You wept into the covers, fresh anguish flushing your body whenever Ghost’s belt tore against your body, turning it as red as the blood that ran beneath it, perhaps atop it if the liquid you felt staining your skin wasn’t sweat. Neither Ghost nor König gave any indication, either, save for König sucking a hissing breath between his teeth as he looked upon the sunset hued bruises of your backside, to transition from the palette of dusk to night within the day.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but judging by how your ass and thighs had gone numb, you hazarded a guess of around five, ten minutes. Maybe even less given how harsh - heavy-handed - Ghost had been. Yet it felt longer. Much, much longer. And it likely would have gone on for that long, too, if König’s voice hadn’t cut through the whistling of the belt, the clapping of your skin. The distress of your cries.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he stated. Ghost ceased, his actions becoming a mystery to you. He sighed. A moment’s consideration passed. The sound of the belt being placed on something followed.

“Alright,” he said, tone tinged with a dulled sharpness that had you pricking your ears to listen for the agitation that lay within. König released you, and you’d have thanked him, kissed him silly, had it not been for the sound of him undoing his pants. His belt lay discarded nearby, the tool of your torture, far enough to be just within reach for either him or Ghost but not out of mind for you. The sound of his zipper coming undone made your stomach clench, tighten. With a shallow sigh, König freed himself of his restraints and held his length in his large, willing hand. You got to your knees, wincing as your heels dug into your cheeks and sent splintering pain through them, taking in the dim light of the room again. Your eyes stung. Your gaze drifted to König. Your heart stopped.

He was huge - long and thick and painful, veins bulging along his shaft, leading to his throbbing, leaking, bulbous tip. You could just already tell he was going to struggle fitting it all in. The image of him growing impatient and slamming into you flashed in your mind. Your heart stuttered, a simultaneously tepid and baltic feeling washed through you. Horror, amplified by the sound of Ghost’s zipper descending behind you. “Mmh, can’t wait to see you try and take me,” König said, voice thick and dark. Cruel. “M’gonna make you bleed from the inside, maus.” He gave a quick laugh. Dry. Your eyes found Ghost’s, pleading and wide. But he showed just as little mercy, even after he’d taught you his lesson, loosened himself from the shackles of his rage. “Save some of her energy for me,” he said, slipping his pants down his thighs. His cock bulged, strained against his boxers, a wet patch having formed on the front. “Don’t want her passin’ out on me.”

“Oh, don’t you?” König said. The men shared a laugh. You wanted to cry. To die.

Ghost ducked and reached beneath the bed, and your breath hitched. He already had the lighter…so what else was he retrieving?

König pumped himself once. Twice. He gave a groan. Without warning, he grasped you by your hair with one hand and pulled you back, almost tearing it from your head. You gave a shriek. König slapped you.

“Stupid fucking girl,” he growled. He slammed his hand against your cunt, roughly trawling his fingers across it, finding your entrance. You gasped, his fingers knives against your sensitive clit. “Make any noise like that again and I’ll give you something to cry about.” Your stomach dropped, your heart ached. You nodded.

“Okay, I’m sorry–” you whispered, voice merely air and nothing more. König grasped your face, held it tightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

You trembled, vision blurred by your tears. Ghost’s silhouette was still visible to you, a shadow on the corner of your vision.

“I’m sorry, Sir,”

König smirked beneath his veil. “Good girl. Finally learning her place.”

Though you hated to admit it, König’s praise gave you shallow hope that he’d be more lenient with you, in spite of all he’d said. And that was your first mistake.

König pulled your back to his chest, and his achingly long, thick fingers found your hole. With neither warning, nor ceremony, he plunged them into you - two. And you let out a silent scream. It felt like he was prodding you with medical instruments, reaching deep inside and feeling you. On the edges of your vision, Ghost re-emerged, holding something behind his back, though less out of secrecy and more of laxity. He slid his underwear down to his thighs, revealing his aching, angry, red tip. He pumped himself, groaning when you began to cry.

“Oh, shh, sweet girl,” came König, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. His fingers spasmed inside you. “You only get to cry when I say so.”

And he kept going. He slid his fingers in and out, picking up speed the wetter you became, hitting a deep, dark part of you that, much to your horror, made you feel good. His thumb pressed into your clit, forcing the beginnings of euphoria through you.

“God, so small. I’m starting to wonder how we’re going to fit inside you–” he bit his lip as fear sparked in your widened eyes, just visible to him as your head began to lol against his shoulder. ”--without tearing you.”

The image he invoked made you sick, made you want to scream and cry until you coughed up your lungs, or someone found you. Yet you resisted, for you knew which of the two possibilities was far likelier to occur than the other; and it was not the one you wanted. “So weak,” König taunted. “So pathetic.”

“So fuckin’ tiny,” Ghost chimed in, a smirk evident in his tone. “Bet she couldn’t fend off a feather.” He stroked himself, pumping harder than before as he coated his cock in his pre-cum. Your blood boiled, but you said nothing. Fear overpowered your need to correct them.

“Well, she can’t fend us off.” König pressed into you, forcing a third finger inside you, reminding you of who - what - you were dealing with. Your eyes squeezed shut, a pained moan rippling through you. Even as he grew closer to your sweet spot, the weight and length of his fingers were difficult to take, especially considering how little either of them had done to prepare you. Perhaps this was how they were warming you up. The thought made you shiver; the implication that what you’d already suffered was not the end. König’s free hand trawled your waist, dipping into its curvature and creeping up your ribs. His fingers were soft, yet a weighted intention lay upon them, lead on skin. That much could be felt in the way his hand, now flat against your chest, slithered around your breast, cupping it. All the while, König’s occupied hand continued to break into you, forcing your lips further and further apart the deeper his fingers descended, the more he added. Ghost’s breathing grew shorter the longer he watched, his movements growing faster, his dick slick with his own arousal. It glistened in the dim light of the room, glinting at you, reminding you that it was there. That he still had his turn. König encompassed your breast with his claws, kneading it, plucking at your hardened nipple. You swallowed the gasps and whines that crawled up your throat, waiting for the right moment to pounce - to make your forced arousal known. But König seemed to know regardless, his voice hot in your ear.

“You’re soaking me, Darling,” he rasped. His hips bucked into the back of you, restrained. For the moment. His breath caught in his throat as electricity shot through him, his tip catching on the small of your back, leaving a thin trail of pre between his tip and your skin, his thighs squeezing your sides and keeping you caged. He was more machine than man; a hydraulic press.

“König–” Ghost’s voice, breathy, surrounded by the squelching of his juices against his hand, was a welcomed distraction from the vague euphoria building in your core. “I’m close.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering what on earth Ghost could be thinking of doing with his load. You prayed that he wasn’t going to put it in you.

König’s hand slid up from your breast up to your jaw, holding it in place before bumping you up onto your knees with his hips, forcing you forward. You winced at the impact. His cock caught between your cheeks, and he restrained himself still. Ghost approached the bedside, pumping furiously. Even with König’s fingers inside you, the sound of slick demanded your attention.

With his free hand, Ghost presented the prize he’d concealed from you. A collar and leash. You swallowed, trying to back up into König, but he held you firmly in place, his hips a deterrent, the threat of impalement.

“Don’t move.” Releasing his cock, Ghost fastened the collar around your neck, making sure it was snug and tight. He wrapped the chain round his forearm as he had done the belt. His hand returned to his member, resuming the raging pace he’d taken to earlier.

His breaths almost seemed to sync with yours; König still fucking you with his fingers, four strong and knuckle-deep, massaging your clit with his thumb, he left you breathless, left you trying to conceal the effects of his devastation upon your body.

Ghost did little to help; when he saw your eyes close or your body begin to slump, he pulled on the chain, bringing you closer to him, closer to consciousness.

His pants transitioned from light gasps to low groans. You knew he didn’t have long. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb. When you didn’t oblige, his stare hardened.

“Open.”

He didn’t have to ask twice before you parted your lips, allowing him into you. He fed his cock into your waiting mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue; a salty residue tingled on your taste buds. With his hand on the chain, he pulled, forced you down on his member, grip tightening when you initially resisted.

“Don’t test me, girl,” he glowered, eyes dark and intentions darker. “Bite me, and I promise you that you’ll never be able to use this mouth again.” He took your jaw in his chained hand and squeezed. You nodded. 

“Good girl.”

Swallowing around him, making him rock ever closer to you, you closed your eyes and took the plunge. He allowed you to set your own pace at the very least, making your descent upon him easier. Well, ‘descent’ being a lenient use of the term; you just bobbed on the tip, and while Ghost didn’t complain, he didn’t praise you, either.

“What, you shy or somethin’?” he said, brow creasing. You looked up at him, hoped that your anger could be felt - or couldn’t. Pleasure made your gaze indeterminate. The knot in his brow dissipated, and a look of revelation crossed his features. “Hold on,” he said, slow and intentional. “Are you new to this?” König stilled behind you, fingers ceasing to coax your cunt into weeping. You could feel him watching intently from behind.

With little to lose and your head hazy with fright, you nodded.

Both men were quiet. Ghost leaned around you, glancing at König. They spoke in their invisible language, unknown to anyone but them, unteachable but learnable.

Ghost’s gaze returned back to you, and he relinquished some of the pressure he was enforcing on the leash. “Oh, Love,” he began, voice softer than it had ever been, eyes half-lidded with what one could construe as concern. “Why didn’t you tell us before?” The question sounded interrogative enough that you felt compelled to answer, but given your position, you didn’t know what to say or how - or that you could, for that matter. You just stared with those same wide, pleading eyes.

Any concern Ghost’s face may have possessed evaporated before your eyes, and before you could even register the change, his grip returned and he slammed you down on his cock. You gagged, cried, eyes stinging with tears and your throat panging with Ghost’s brute force. He refused to relent, even as you began to cry, the pain easily making your situation that much more unbearable. He peeled you off his cock before piling into you again, and again, and again. Soon, he’d established the rhythm of a symphony you didn’t want to hear, the sound of his pre wet against your lips.

König groaned behind you, his fingers gripping your cheeks.

“Fuck – I can feel you taking him,” he said, breathy. He began pumping into you again, his hand remaining iron around your jaw, giving you no choice but to to keep taking Ghost. The dying heat in your centre re-ignited, much to your despair. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the fiery ache in your throat, but König just hit a spot in you that made your body want more, despite your mind’s resistance to the fog trying to settle over it. Ghost gave a sharp groan, panting, his thrusts becoming less coordinated, more frantic as his release came into sight. Your heart thudded in your chest, echoing as if it were contained in a steel chamber, adrenaline replacing your blood. The thought of biting him came into your mind, but the consequences that seemed to be your birthright overshadowed it, frightened it away.

You were struggling, twitching as you fought the urge to pull away, knowing either König or Ghost would shove you right back onto Ghost’s cock. Ghost held little regard for your struggling, instead making sure to keep slamming his tip against the back of your throat as if there was a prize for doing so, for bruising your voice and making it nigh-unusable. You were certain you could see him snarling beneath the mask as he forced you to take all of him, your nose pressed against the short, dark, curling hairs above his weapon.

Ghost pulled out, taking you by surprise, leaving you whining. He may have thought that you wanted more, but he didn’t act on it if he did. With a few more breathy, panting, groaning strokes, he came on your face, coating you. You gasped, tried backing up, but König held you in place, unrelenting as he continued to pound the shape of his hand into you. You heaved deep breaths, trying to regain the air König had knocked out of you and Ghost had stolen from you.

Your chest heaved, matching the exasperation of Ghost’s shoulders. König’s pumping fingers slowed, then came to a halt. The heat in your stomach died once more. You could feel how wet your backside was, cold as air hit it. Ghost’s cum dripped down your chin, into your open mouth and onto your chest. And Ghost watched, a feral gleam in his eye as white, milk tears gleamed upon your skin like pearls.

König seemed to care little for the haze Ghost had placed you in, inspecting Ghost’s cum as it dripped across his hand like a prostitute’s mascara, before trying to wipe it off. He dragged his palm across your cheek, gathering Ghost’s load and pressing it to your lips.

“Lick.” Was all he said. And you obliged, oversaturating your mouth with Ghost for the second time that night. And you looked up into Ghost’s eyes as you did this. They were hard, like he disagreed, yet he said nothing.

This was your chance, you were sure of it: get Ghost on-side by showing your loyalty to him - make him think you were on his team.

König’s hand came up to your mouth, wiping pearls from your lip. You let your tongue slip out. “My, my,” Konig said. “Eager, are we?” When he pressed his fingers into your mouth, you acted.

Your second mistake of the evening.

You bit down. A pitbull in force. Straddled his fingers with your teeth.

König yelled, his fingers dislodging from inside you. Everything happened in a flurry of moments; an avalanche of seconds colliding upon you as one rather than consecutive moments. “You fucking bitch!” König’s voice sounded as if it were underwater as he cursed at you. Less than a moment later, his hand found your face, smacking it, leaving a streak of your juices slashed across your cheek like blood. You were on your front before you could even make a noise, and a pair of hands forced your head into the bedsheets, suffocating you, disorienting you. You could feel how tangled your hair was, how matted with sweat and cum it had become.

Ghost’s hand tangled in your hair, tore you up from the sheets. He was not pleased. His eyes told you so.

König was somewhere behind you, though exactly where was unknown to you, which somehow made you feel worse than knowing he was there at all. Your heart pounded in your ears, blood pumping through you, a red ocean within your crust. You couldn’t hear much outside of your atmosphere. The bed remained dipped behind you. König remained behind you.

Your breath caught in your throat when a hand, thrice the size of your own, came down upon your head, pulling you back by your tresses. It wasn’t Ghost’s, for he abandoned you when his successor took charge. You thought your Eve’s apple would tear through your throat as your skin was stretched so finely. König’s eyes sent ice through you, yet you couldn’t even see them.

“You arrogant wench–” he said, voice close to your ear, hot and sibilant “--I’m going to make sure this really, really hurts.”

Once again, you were slammed onto your front, König’s hands dislodging from your scalp and relinquishing you to gravity. You began preparing yourself to fight back, preparing to take a life if they planned on taking yours. That was before something cool and thick pressed against your throat. And in an instant, everything changed.

You couldn’t swallow - couldn’t even think - as this object bore into you. Someone grabbed your hair from behind, yanking you up. That same person held the object, which, by the handle in your periphery, you saw was a knife. König’s knife.

“Going to have to domesticate this little bitch, show her who she belongs to.” König’s voice dripped, venomous. You fisted the sheets, tried to keep your tears a secret even to yourself, hoping you could channel some of the mortification brewing in you into the sheets.

“Now, König, don’t be too hasty.” Ghost said. “Don’t wanna be fucking a corpse now, do you?” Ghost was less the voice of reason here than of self-interest; he didn’t want to fuck your corpse. But König’s lack of input, his silent neutrality, made you think that he did. Or would. Oh god, what have I done–

König ground his stiff member against your raw flower, grunting when he caught himself on your hole. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep your pained mewls from leaking out. You knew you had no right to - you knew they wouldn’t listen. Yet it came out anyway; a request, nothing more. Meek as the woman it tumbled from.

“Dont, please,”

Ghost and König stilled.

“Say that again.” König said. You couldn’t tell if it was a demand or a challenge, but you complied regardless.

“Please, please don’t. I-I’ve never–” “What? What haven’t you done?” König’s voice made you tense every time you heard it, especially now as he held your life in his hands. You swallowed shallowly around the blade. You closed your eyes, squoze them tight.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Another bout of silence. Then, an arrow of laughter pierced it.

“Aww, are you a virgin, Darling?” König’s use of the petname evoked a primal despair from within you. You were surprised you hadn’t begun to shake with fear. When you didn’t answer quickly enough, König’s hand released your hair and found your cunt and slapped it. You yelped, trying not to decapitate yourself on the blade as König’sstrength propelled you forward, your lips sensitive from his prior assault.

“We’ll take good care of you,” came Ghost, who seemed less willing to adopt König’s sarcasm; perhaps only because you hadn’t wronged him the way you had König. Even then, you had no doubt he would treat you as if you had.

“Though, nobody’s ever gonna want you after tonight,” Ghost said. “We promise you that.”

“And all because you wanted to act like an animal.” König offered no respite, a thin smile in his voice.

Your heart sank ever lower as all you could do was listen and accept what they were telling you - accept your fate. You hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself that you’d really hoped they - or at the very least Ghost - would take care of you. Perhaps before, but not now. Not after you’d resisted.

“Can’t believe no one else’s ever claimed this cunt.” A twinge of surprise, perhaps even morbid curiosity, spiked König’s tone. Yet you gave him no answer, no resolve to his curiosity. You remained a statue.

“You wanna take her?” Ghost asked. The fact they spoke of you as if you weren’t even there made you feel oddly hurt. But what were they going to do, realistically? Ask your permission?

“You chose her, you take her.” Konig handed Ghost the knife.

“You sure?” Ghost said. “After what she did to you, I thought you’d–” “Fuck her while she’s still tight, Ghost.” König’s tone was rocky, monotone with rubble anger spiking it. “Because I promise you, she won’t be worth your while after I’m done with her.”

Chose her -  after I’m done with her - your stomach turned. This entire attack had been completely coincidental. It could have easily been anyone else, someone you had no idea existed. And yet the gods brought them to you.

The bed dipped as Ghost came behind you. He took your chain leash, letting it mould back against his skin as if it were an extension of his limb, and pulled it taught against your throat. On your other end, he proposed the tip of his cock to your lips, and you tensed. Your body near forced him out, refusing to take any of his length. Ghost scowled, pushed you down further into the bedsheets, keeping you still. He spread your lips with his fingers, and, within an instant, forced himself inside. You gasped, letting out a silent cry into the duvet. The knife wedged against your throat, a reminder. Ghost released a strangled groan, your cunt squeezing his tip.

“Christ,” he breathed, “so fuckin’ tight,” His grip on the handle tightened. His thighs were pressed against your own, rubbing your raw skin, making your backside erupt in agony. You only choked on a sob, begging and praying to any god that may have been listening to make it stop. 

Ghost took a breath, and you braced yourself. He pressed, pushed further inside, releasing guttural grunts as he forced another inch into you. Your resolve was cracking like glass beneath a great weight; you knew it would shatter. You knew you were shattering.

“Come on, (Y/N),” he said, your voice rolling off his tongue as he’d roll it against your cunt. “You can do it - you can take me.” His voice was breathy, yet there was sincerity there. He was giving you the opportunity for you to show some initiative before he took it from you. Giving you the illusion of choice.

For your sake, you tried to relax, tried to ignore the heavy, throbbing mass your cunt was reluctantly swallowing - more so choking on. That, and the knife tucked against your neck. You willed yourself to relax as best you could. Feeling your walls loosening, Ghost slammed the rest of his length into you. And you moaned. Loudly.

You hadn’t meant to, and it was not one of pleasure, more shock. It just came out, and it hung in the air like a curse. Or a blessing.

“Looks like our pretty little pet isn’t as resistant as she thought,” König said, a mocking, sly tone to his voice. Beneath a heavy gaze, you looked at him as best you could, without slitting your throat on the blade, trying to muster as much of a scowl as you were able. You assumed that, with Ghost behind you, he would protect you from König’s wrath until his turn was finished. Your third mistake of the evening.

König’s face shifted, and the light crinkle around his eyes dropped, leaving him almost expressionless, though you could only feel this change, not see it.

“You think you can mock me, girl?” He said. He glowered over you, looking down at you.

You didn’t answer, throat rough and dry from your crying, and your fatigue slowing your cognition. That, and your complete unwillingness to give König the satisfaction of your distress. König said nothing as he took your silent answer. Instead, he neared your compromised form, bent at the waist, completely exposed. You felt the bed dip, closer now.

I’m sorry, you wanted to say - plead. You wanted to rectify your error, to undo whatever awful plan you’d just put into motion. Not that König would care, though.

His presence seemed to materialise behind you, and you felt Ghost shuffle sideways. Then, he spread your lips.

Oh no.

Before you could scream out, apologise – do anything – König  was pressing the tip of his cock to your already stuffed hole, making you cower. A million ways to be injured by what König was planning to do shot through your head. Even just one of them would make a traumatising story to tell at the doctor’s office, never mind be excruciating.

“I was going to be lenient. To let you take us one at a time.” He huffed, euphoria shooting down his cock.”But seeing as you seem to have the intelligence of an animal, I’m going to treat you like one.” His hand came to grip your waist, unrelenting. “Let’s see how well you can mock this, Kitty.” Königs accented voice sent electricity shooting to your core. He spat on your cunt and pressed forward.

Both men were thick and long - enough so that you could just about take one of them. But now with two of them trying to skewer you, you were sure you’d sooner pass out. Your cunt throbbed, screaming for a moment of release as you failed to adjust to two of them. König grunted, breath shuttering, as he managed to wedge the tip in, making you ache, made you feel more exposed than you already were.

“What? Got n-nothing to say, Kitty?” König said. He stroked your lips with thick, rough fingers. You gave no indication of a response, being caught in your throat alongside your sobs. König let out a hum of a laugh.

He forced himself further inside, and you squeezed your eyes shut, tears streaming down your cheeks and into the duvet. Ghost groaned at the friction, pulling tighter on your leash. 

“God, so fuckin’ small–” his voice drew thinner than before, less certain. He made an attempt at comfort, at love. He ran a hand against your backside, squeezing it. König moved, the beginnings of a thrust. Ghost gave protest, though not on your behalf. “Watch out,” he said, warning. “Don’t wanna finish in her just yet.”

König gave a hum, an underdeveloped laugh. “Hm, good thinking.”

It took a lot of effort, but, after brute forcing his way inside, König was balls-deep within you in a matter of minutes, breathing heavily and ready to burst at any second. Your walls crushed him - both of them - drawing a guttural moan that sounded too human to belong to either when they rutted into you, unable to resist the morsels of euphoria your body submitted to them.You heaved laboured breaths against the bedsheets, body ready to give out at any second.

“Ready?” König said, aiming at Ghost. Ghost, presumably, nodded, and the two began to pump into you.

When one pulled out, the other plunged. That was the system. The room filled with the grotesque symphony of skin slapping against skin, of König’s rising moans, Ghost’s groans, of your body’s liquids making their assault on you easier, almost inviting them in. Something thick and viscous rolled down your thighs, and you couldn’t have known whose body it initially came from. You couldn’t admit that they way they battered your insides, hit your cervix, made pleasure rupture in your core, made you buzz and tingle in places you didn’t want to.

Their balls smacked the sensitive skin of your flower red, almost raw. Just as unrelenting as the men you belonged to.

König was notably rougher than Ghost, his cock seeming to pummel you at twice the speed, making sure to catch you where it hurt. Whenever you sobbed, he smirked and made sure to hit that same spot again. And again. And again.

With both of their instruments inside you, you knew your stomach was bulging in one form or another. And, in a bid to satiate your curiosity, or to confirm that what was happening to you was indeed real, you slid your hand up to your stomach, pressing your palm against your skin.

They were massive. They both made a noise of mock protest. Ghost grabbed your hair.

“Do that again,” he said, breath laboured and wavering in time with him bounding you on his cock. He pressed the flat edge of the weapon to your apple, tightened his grip on your strands, letting you know it wasn’t a choice.

With little room to refuse, and Ghost’s threatening grip on your hair and the knife, you obliged, pressing your palm flat against the outline in your stomach which you recognised as Ghost’s. He gave the slightest of moans and relented, letting your hair go and trailing his hand to rest on the small of your back, as if he expected to feel the silhouette of his cock there, too.

“Good girl,” he panted. “Very good girl.”

Perhaps minutes passed, perhaps an eternity. The only mark of time having passed at all was the electric rope in your core tightening, and the inevitable undoing of your captors.

“Fuck– I– I’m close,” König said, his pace quickening, hips stuttering. They grew out of sync, pounding into you two at a time, spreading your walls wider, deeper.

“Yeah, me–e too,”

The realisation of what they were planning to do settled in.

“No, stop–” Your pleas fell on deaf ears, neither of the men even poised to discipline you, too lost in their bid for release to spare you even a glance.

“König, Ghost, please–” you gasped as Ghost hit your sweet spot, eliciting a moan from you.

“I heard that female orgasms increase the chances of impregnation,” he said between breaths. You could just feel him staring down at you. König, too, no doubt smiling that sly smile of his. He existed only to torture you. “Let’s test that theory.”

You tried pulling away - a futile effort, really. König just pulled you right back, impaling you back on his dick and drawing a moan from him, a sob from you.

With the last of their resolve, they pummeled into you. And, with a choked moan, your stomach spasmed, your muscles burning, tightening. Your orgasm tore through you, a hurricane of blood, sweat and tears on the populus of your body. You wailed into the sheets, your walls trapping your attackers inside you. Both men finished, a sirenic, low moan leaving König, and a savage, territorial growl coming from Ghost. One after the other, they burst inside you, loads thick and heavy, flooding you with a warmth you didn’t want. And because you were angled so - with your backside practically vertical to your head, you could feel it running down into the deepest areas of yourself, gravity only aiding in its aim.

You gave one last attempt to break free - to stop the inevitable - but it was of no use. Ghost had you at the mercy of the leash, releasing himself inside you, spurts of his white hot cum claiming every inch of you as his own. König’s seed ran like lava, burning you up, scorching paths into you, scarring you with his actions. You had no choice but to take it, to feel your future slipping away from you as both of these men bound you with their offspring, their cum overflowing within you and oozing from your lips, rolling down your thighs. You gasped when König scooped the remnants of Ghost and himself and plunged them back inside. “Better plug her,” he said to Ghost, who you felt liberate your throat of the knife, detach, and slip out from you, leaving you cold in his absence. König still inside you, you tried to break away, to pull yourself from him, but he gripped you by the shoulders and slammed you right back down on him. And he didn’t stop. In Ghost’s departure, he crushed his hips against your backside, making sure he hit your skin where it was most sensitive. You stifled your hisses, your moaning cries. Not only did your backside and thighs hurt, but your prize, too, ebbing and drooling with their seed. König eased up only to lean down, pressed against you. He lifted his veil, placed his lips on your shoulder. 

“No better expression suits you more than pain, my dear,” he said, voice low, though it was unlikely he was keeping this a secret from Ghost. “And I will force you to wear it until you’re stuffed so full of my cum that you look pregnant.” Proving his point, he thrusted against you, thighs slapping against your own. You choked on a cry. “Understood?”

With what little will you had left, you nodded.

And then he sank his teeth into you.

You screamed into the bedsheets, König’s force being nothing near that of a love bite and rather a gouge. Only when he was satisfied, when the wound was a half inch or so deep, did he retract. His veil remained hiked above his nose, and, luckily for you, you couldn’t see the blood dripping from his teeth, staining his lips and his tongue as he licked it from the outskirts of his mouth, and, when he descended again, your shoulder. He gave low, panting moans, the taste of your metal dancing on his tongue. You felt warmth trickle from your shoulder, heard it drip onto the sheets. Ghost returned, to which König, parting from your skin, muttered a “Perfect,” before he pulled out, the sound of your drenched bodies slickened in parting making your stomach turn. Before you could even make a noise of relief or protest, something large and round and cold - unused - was slipped inside you. You grimaced at the feeling, shivering. You dared to turn and face König and Ghost, who only admired the view of you. Their eyes gleamed, primal - filled with authority and the need to breed you.

Without thought, you reached behind to feel what was inside you, wincing when shards of pain shot down your arm from your shoulder. And you were swiftly rewarded with a hand gripping your wrist, twisting it in such a way that was distinctly militarian. Utilitarian. Made to disarm. You barely contained a yelp.

“Not yet, Princess,” Ghost said. A thumb smoothed over your aching wrist, as if it didn’t belong to the hand that was causing your suffererance. Ghost’s grip on your wrist loosened. Your breath remained uneven.

Before you could say or do anything more, you felt König press his knife to your throat, a ritual you’d grown accustomed yet not comfortable to, flushing the barely-blunted edge to your Eve’s apple. You could see him smile beneath the mask, eyes crinkling. Ghost loomed over the two of you, ever the shadow he was born to be, eyes glinting as he watched you.

“Now, if you behave for us—“

“And be a good little girl—“

“We won’t be forced to use this,” König punctuated his point with a flash of the knife against your skin. 

“Or this.” Ghost retrieved the lighter, catching its silver body in the light, glinting in your eyes.

You swallowed — shallowly — your throat bobbing against the blade, just shy of impaling itself upon its metal body. When you gave no sign of resistance, König lowered himself between your legs, his great arms bulging, veins carving across muscle, county lines on a country of a man.

All the while, your shoulder bled, jagged blood lines webbing down your chest, racing.

Ghost stroked himself, lacking the timidity of a man whose body admitted this was his first time doing anything like this, yet deficient of the depravity to give it his all. He was saving himself - his release - for something else.

König pressed his thighs up against the back of your own, his aching cock pulsing against your abused core. Even the mere implication of what he was going to do with it made you ache and throb, more so than you already were. His body was scorching behind you, burning you.

Though, with your cunt plugged, you wondered what they could possibly be planning on doing with you now. Unless…

Ghost resided close by, watching König manhandle you.

König brought a strong hand around your jaw and pulled you so that your back was flush against his chest, his heart, which hammered like a chisel into your back. Yet his heart did not thunder out of fear.

Saliva pooled in your throat, and you swallowed against the blade, heart spiking as your skin forfeited itself to the cold metal. König rolled against you, as if trying to fit the shape of your curvature. He grunted when his dick was caught between your soft cheeks.

“Now,” he said, breath shuttering, “do exactly as I say and I’ll let you live.”

Electricity shot down every nerve that wasn’t already fried, your throat grew drier and your heart leapt. You could feel sweat pouring from your every pore, making you feel sticky, adhesive; trying to keep König attached to you.

König yanked you, making you wince, and forced you to face Ghost. Ghost still stroked himself, though with more frevour now, staring you dead in the eyes as he did so. His unwavering gaze made your face burn, caused you to try to cover yourself - only for König to press the expanse of the knife to your throat once more.

“Don’t.”

And with that said, you let your hands drop to your sides, swaying as you relinquished control of your body to König. Your eyes rested on the bedsheets, Ghost lingering in the corners of your vision. Until he came to the forefront, steps thunderous, waves crashing together in a roaring sea. He took your jaw in his hand and made you look up at him. Your neck panged, sore.

“Rather disobedient tonight, aren’t you.” he said. Merely a fact, not a debate. The feeling of König’s knife and Ghost’s hand in such close proximity felt more dangerous than if it were either alone.

When you didn’t answer, instead staring up at Ghost glassy-eyed, he sighed. Or laughed. He released your jaw, letting you retract, and trailed his fingers to the side of your head. He took a lock of hair between his fingers and released himself with his other hand, reaching for his lighter.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tone belying the terror which resided beneath. Barely. You tried to pull back, but König’s weight made it impossible. He was a wall, no more human than a brick, yet possessing the monstrosity of a Bible’s worth of demons. And Ghost was no different.

Ghost said nothing as he flipped the lid and flicked the flame into being. When you refused to offer yourself, König forced you forward, leaning over your shoulder, your throbbing, burning bleeding shoulder, watching the spectacle.

Your eyes widened, remnant tears falling, and looked up at Ghost. There was a smirk beneath his mask, you just couldn’t see it. It existed in feeling, the rarest, most difficult universal language to learn, let alone master.

Ghost brought the flame to the tips of your hair. You shrieked, tried backing away again, but to no avail. The flame consumed the strands bunched between Ghost’s fingers, and an image that sent cold dread washing over you flashed behind your eyes. You, on fire, with nobody around to help.

You were going to die.

The flame consumed your strands, voracious in its pursuit as it left blackened, frail, curled hairs in its wake.

Before the flame reached your head, Ghost lifted his mask and wet his fingers with his tongue, putting the flame out between them. Your body remained still. Paralysed. The image remained, and you hadn’t realised it had not come to pass.

“If you talk back to us again, I’ll let the flame burn your skin next time.” Ghost’s head tilted, taking in your petrification. “Understand?”

Breaking from your haze, you looked up at Ghost, tearful. You nodded. His eyes crinkled.

“Good.”

He closed the lighter and discarded it. The knife had not been removed from the equation, however. It rested in König’s hand.

Ghost made a gesture to König, who tugged you back into his arms. Ghost joined you, coming to sit beside König, behind you.

Ghost’s length was already coated in pre and your own fluids, albeit some had crusted, making it easy for him to slip in and out, especially considering how wet you’d become, how much of a mess they’d made of you. Ghost imparted himself unto you, pressing the head of his cock against your puckered hole, nudging his way in. You braced yourself, tried to relax so he could finish and bring an end to this trial of your ordeal.

Seeing Ghost already indulging in your torture, König joined, doing away with his restraint. Dissatisfied with the prospect of merely touching himself. He brought the head of his cock to your hole. Ghost growled, but König didn’t move. In fact, slipping a hand across your stomach, he slammed into you.

You gasped, the air knocked out of your lungs. Ghost, now no longer afforded the time to take his own, laced his fingers into your hair and forced his length into you, gripping your head. “Easy, Princess,” he said, voice low, breath shuttering as the friction from your tight walls and Konig’s cock. It became a competition, one he was determined to win.

König caught his breath, still adjusting to his cock being deliciously squeezed between you and Ghost, pressing his hand to your stomach.

“I can feel myself inside you,” he breathed. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to where his had been. And you felt him.

For the second time that night, you felt König’s dick impaling you. You almost wept.

“Stop distractin’ her,” Ghost intervened, stroking your hair. You winced, cautious.

König made no protests, and Ghost began his pace. He started off slow, more for his benefit than yours, and slipped an inch or so deeper into the chasm of your asshole each time. And you could do nothing but take it - take him - and try not to cry or moan every time he hit a sensitive spot.

König, seemingly having released his earlier grudge, was slower with you, too. He fed himself into you, inch by inch, enthralled by the image of your hole stretched over both of them, bursting as your body grappled with the weight forming in your lower half.

Their pace wasn’t in time with the other as it had been earlier; it was uncoordinated, softer in one aspect and rougher in another - it was purely and unequivocally the pursuit of their own pleasure as their earlier displays had been. Yet, there was some consideration there in the way that König’s head fell to the crook of your neck, resting there as his hand smoothed over your front, over himself sheathed inside you. The way he whispered “Good girl,” into your ear, so quiet the words almost caught in the fabric of his mask. The knife remained, though. In the periphery, on the edge of the bed. Neither here nor there.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s breathing grew shallow, shorter, with every stroke of his cock and the slap of his balls against your raw backside, breath hitching when he hit a sweet spot. König aided him, digging his fingers into your stomach where Ghost’s cock  pounded you, forcing Ghost to give out a surprised moan. His grip on your hair softened, only there to guide you now rather than to discipline. When you clenched around him, an involuntary tensing of your body, he gave a low moan.

Your body ached, and so did your insides. 

A vague, wilted bloom of pleasure persisted below your stomach, though it wasn’t electric. Rather, your body’s exhausted, half-hearted attempt at quelling the hopelessness of your situation by trying to get something out of it. It began in your centre, the lovechild of König and Ghost’s incessant pounding and moaning, and the prospect of your future with them; the future that sloshed around inside you with every thrust, plugged, sealed. Promised.

After what was less than an eternity yet more than mere minutes, König finished, releasing a battlecry of a moan, his body seizing up as his release rippled through him. He continued to roll into you, though subdued. His cum reached deep within you, you being vertical again. He pressed a single kiss to your shoulder through his mask, his breath almost felt through the veil against your skin.

Ghost followed shortly after, throwing his head back and groaning your name into the confines of his mask, warm, thick ropes of his cum painting the inside of your ass white. You could feel how thick he was inside you, like a web. A trap.

Through half-lidded, hazy eyes, Ghost looked down at you. He perhaps smiled, having outlasted König, won, and petted your head - your hair. He pulled out. “Took us so well.” His voice was drunk, soaked in lust. “Good girl.”

You dared to wonder if that was the only name they knew for you, if they’d forgotten your true name already.

König pulled out of you, and, in a turn of events, shifted from behind you and brought you into his arms. He pressed you into the bedsheets - into the pillows - your arms raised above your head. To sleep–perchance to dream - of a reality where you remained unsullied and unused by two men who were strangers to you.

He reached beneath the bed - a cove of wonder, at this stage - and withdrew a plug. You didn’t fight him off as he plunged it into you, marveling at the bulge in your stomach, the shape of your future.

Bound by the belt and gagged by your own fear, you watched - felt - Ghost sink down on top of you, half-hard cock resting on your stomach, heavy, like a statement. He made sure not to squeeze the mound in your middle, rather taking to admiring it. Without taking his eyes off you, he reached behind him, clicked his fingers, and König brought him a candle and his discarded lighter. He lit the candle and held it over you. The flame danced in his eyes, wavered. He put it on the bedside, taking your breasts in his calloused hands as it burned in your periphery.

“Won’t be long now,” he said, and you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or König. Königanswered, knowing infinitely more than you. He looked down at you, an uncharacteristic fondness growing in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he said. He brushed a sweat-sodden, stray lock of hair from your eyes. “Not long at all.”

“You’ll be bursting with our offspring in no time, Love.” Your heart stopped. Despite the sentiment in his eyes, you failed to feel the warmth he was trying to project - the heat radiating from his hands at either side of your head. Your blood ran cold.

“Why…” your voice caught in your throat, and you looked away. You didn’t want to speak out of turn. Not again.

Ghost and König’s head tilted. Had the situation not been so dire, you may have found it endearing.

“Go on.” Ghost’s voice was monotone, yet curiosity danced within it. The candle continued to burn.

You sniffed, swallowed, tried not to think of everything, tried not to burst out crying. You looked up into Ghost’s blackened eyes. Something initial and unreadable slumbered there.

“Why me?”

Ghost backed up, peeling his eyes off you and looking to König, who only mirrored his expression.

“Why–” you sobbed, breath hitching, “--Why did you choose me?”

“Oh, Darlin’...” Ghost sighed. He brought a hand to your cheek, and you winced. Something almost blue, sorrowful, shimmered in his eyes. He cupped your cheek, his hand a hammock for your megrim, splitting head, the thoughts that bundled and overflowed from within.

“We…we chose you because…” Ghost looked to König, who gave a shallow nod. Confirmation. “We chose you because we–”

“You’re the most beautiful girl we’ve ever seen.”

At König’s interruption, Ghost’s eyes widened fractionally, yet agreement nestled between both men, just as you were pinned beneath Ghost. Said man’s attention returned back to you and your teary eyes.

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” he said, wiping a lone tear from your cheek with his thumb. “We’ve seen how you are with your friends, your family. Strangers. You…really seem to care about them.”

Had you not been exhausted, you’d have questioned the pair (or perhaps not) about when - how - they’d seen you before this encounter. Then again, even in this state, the implication weighed heavy on you.

Yet, another bloomed inside you, one you detested; the forewarnings and warmth of flattery, the timid fluttering in your chest, a single butterfly, straying from its kaleidoscope. The snowflake before the avalanche.

Tears slipped from the outer corners of your eyes, and Ghost caught every one of them. Lifting the bottom of his mask, he kissed them away, leading salty trails from your eyes to the corners of your lips, where, upon his falterance, he pressed his lips to yours. Despite the entirety of the evening, it was chaste, concerned only with you. Ghost pressed you further into the covers, taking you deeper, his lips beginning to move against yours. You didn’t return it. But he didn’t seem to mind.

Parting, Ghost’s cheeks - or that which you could see of them - were pink, flushed with the beginnings of abashment. He panted quietly, looking down at you, regarding you as if you were the only person in all the world. And he gave you his parting word.

“I can think of no one better to bear my offspring than you.”

König watched, a flash of envy’s serpentine robe dancing behind his eyes, here one moment and gone the next. He placed a hand on Ghost’s shoulder.

“The candle,” was all he said. Ghost gave minimal response and reached for the burning length of wax on the bedside. It wavered, then flickered out of mortal existence when Ghost snuffed it out, lowering his mask and returning to anonymity after the fact.

Your stare flicked between Ghost, König, and the candle. Ghost pressed down - or rather, rested his full weight on - the bottom of your stomach, squeezing the breath out of you, making you fold. Something trickled from your plugged cunt, forced out under Ghost’s weight. Ghost placed a hand on your chest and pushed you back down.

You could smell the candle’s perfume as Ghost tipped it, hot, running wax bleeding over its lip and directly onto your nipple. Your gasped, nay, shrieked, König muffling your cry with his hand. It burned, ebbed. Throbbed. The sensitive, erect skin tingled as the wax settled, hardening. Trapping it.

“Shh, Princess,” Ghost said, smoothing a hand over your hair, looking past the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s alright.”

No it’s not! you wanted to say, to scream from the rooftops. But no-one could hear you now. You could only swallow and endure.

Ghost’s hand trailed from your hair to your breast, which he kneaded with a softness foreign to this night. His eyes glimmered with something incomprehensible as he all but bore down on you. You hated to admit it, but he seemed tender, which, combined with his gentle massaging, made the space between your legs feel warm with a subdued current, the hair raises before lightning strikes.

And that tenderness ran concurrent with his cruelty. For just a moment later, he poured hot wax onto your other nipple, now having coated both in a red, hardening shield. You cried against and into König’s hand, which he kept firmly against your lips. He ran his other hand through your hair, emulating the soothing cycle of comfort he’d only ever seen, not enacted.

Ghost discarded the candle on the bedside table and cupped your other breast with his now-free hand, leaning down to press kisses to the valley between the two. They started out as gentle, yet firm, chasing away your fresh tears and seeming to ease enough of your tension that König no longer saw the need to keep you quiet, instead resting his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them. Or keeping you pinned.

Ghost’s kisses trailed down beneath your breasts, lapping at their underside with a slow tongue. You shuddered under his touch, his watch. He veered off to one breast and, without warning, engulfed your wax-coated nipple with his mouth, peeling the wax off with his teeth. You nearly gasped as cold air rushed to the sensitive bud, repeating the process with the other nipple as Ghost peeled the wax from it, leaving you feeling more exposed - raw.

He gave you no time to adjust to this feeling - as if a layer of your skin had been shed -  before he took one of your buds in his mouth and sucked. Hard.

Your body convulsed, your sensitivity making Ghost’s actions nigh-unbearable, making you mewl. In spite of that, it felt…good. It sent a shock of electricity to your clit, making you tingle and writhe. You resisted the urge to rock yourself against Ghost’s hips as he remained nestled atop your thighs. König’s hand slithered down to your chest to keep you still. Ghost stuffed his mouth with your breast, and for a second - a split moment in history - you wondered, considered, if he’d choke on it, if he’d be okay.

He erased the doubt from your mind, voice loud and clear as day.

“Can’t wait ‘til you’re pregnant,” he said. He spared you a glance, peering up from beneath the shadows of his mask. “‘Nd I get to suck you dry; milk you like the whore you are.”

König made a noise of agreement. “Pretty little bitch, only good for breeding and fucking.”

“And trust me, Darlin’,” Ghost rasped, panting lightly as he pulled away. “You’ll never go a day where you’re not full.”

Proving his point, Ghost retracted, his cock catching on your clit, trailing to your hole. The implication alone made you clench, and, for a second, you wanted to believe that it was because your body didn’t want him - want them - and was trying to keep them out. On the contrary. It was practicing to keep them in.

“No-one will ever want you when we’re done with you.” König seethed, eyes dark behind the shadow of the mask. “There won’t be another thought behind those eyes, except of us.” 

You sobbed - mourned - for yourself. For the future they were both robbing from you and holding hostage, with your demise nestled snugly within the memory of that camera, and the child you were surely carrying now, stomach bulging with the makings of it; symbolic. Ghost brought the knife against your cheek, having obtained it during your distress, dragging the blunted edge across your skin. 

“We’ll mark you up so good that no man will ever even look at you.” Ghost tilted you to face him with the knife, dead stare penetrating you, making you feel cold. 

“Now, Princess–” König’s voice boomed, making you jump - arch - against Ghost’s chest. “Touch yourself.”

The command was foreign to you, completely alien. You almost asked him to repeat it for fear of not having heard him correctly. He looked at you - looked down at you - with a half-lidded stare. Condescending.

When you didn’t move, Ghost brought the knife to your thigh and nicked it, once, twice, making you yelp, spasm on instinct. And when you failed to answer again, in the half a second they spared you, he made a long cut along the inside of your soft thigh. The wounds were red, doubtless already bleeding. They stung, reminded you of their brutality. Reminded you of the gouge on your shoulder.

“Didn’t you fucking hear me?” König spat. You flinched, back into the bed. Again, when you made no move to act, Ghost slid from your thighs and forced you up onto your knees, slipping behind you, holding the knife to your throat. An arm slithered around your waist and held you there, his hand caressing your swollen stomach as it slithered past. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to sooth you or prevent you from fleeing.

König took a step towards you, and Ghost had to hold you down to stop you from jumping. He held up a hand to König, who stepped back. His aura strangled you, let you know that he was far from pleased. You swallowed, and Ghost leaned down and whispered in your ear. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll help you.”

He took your hand in his, and, like a puppet master controlling his creation, he slid your hand down to your cunt, ticklish (or just uncomfortable) with a foreign object disguised as your own trying to near it. The camera didn’t help, either, reminding you that everything was on the line.

You steeled yourself, tried thinking of anything else other than the situation. Ghost’s hardened musculature digging into your back, the feeling of his fingers encircling your clit, making you gasp and recoil, fleeing from one evil to another. Ghost sighed into you, rutted his hips against your back. Something almost sharp was beginning to dig into the dimple of your back, and despite knowing what it was, you pretended not to. Anything to make this situation less traumatic - embarrassing - for you than it already was.

Luckily, the pleasure welling in your core as Ghost pressed against your clit almost helped you forget that he was not, in fact, a heartless criminal - one of two whose only goal it seemed to rob you of your life, though not to be as merciful as to kill you, rather to hold your very existence captive.

Before you could begin to enjoy the cord tightening in your centre, Ghost’s fingers crept from your clit to the plug in your pussy. He slipped it out with a pop and grasped your hand, bringing it to your now leaking cunt. He pressed - forced - your fingers against them, slipping past your slick folds and inside you. Or, at least tried to.

Your walls clamped down, allowing nobody - not even yourself - inside. You’d have been relieved of this had this not been Ghost and König you were dealing with. Upon discovering your resistance, Ghost sighed quietly. “Relax,” he told you. “It’s okay. ‘T’s just me.”

And that’s supposed to make me feel better? You thought.

Ghost may have sensed how you tightened up even more. And he hadn’t the patience to humour you. Shedding your fingers, he spread your lips with his own, sinking one inside you, testing you. You remained firmly shut, a vault to which no one had the combination. But Simon had a bomb. And very, very little patience.

“Fine, then,” he said. “If you wanna play this the hard way, we’ll play.”

Without patience, he pried his fingers into you, painfully so, as he fought with your body’s natural response. Observing the scene, König began stroking himself, watching your eyes screw shut and your toes curl, the epitome of a pain.

“Ghost,” you breathed, “please, stop–”

“Silence.” König demanded, staring you dead in the eyes. In that moment of distraction, Ghost’s fingers ploughed their way into you. You cried out, the intrusion making your walls ache. Ghost kept you flush against his chest, caging you between his thighs, keeping you obedient with a roll against your clit and the bloodied knife to your collar, dragging it.

König’s stare did little to relax you, but Ghost’s movements against the bundle of nerves between your legs made your walls flutter, the ache recede. You leaned your weight into him, and you could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, his scorching skin against yours, melting into you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and hesitant, shy moans escaped between your gasping lips, to which Ghost praised you, calling you his “Good girl,” and pressing a masked kiss to your injured shoulder, making you flinch and staining the teeth of his mask red. Ruby tooth, infinitely more valuable than gold. Soon enough, soft, slick sounds filled the small room. Your cheeks bloomed with embarrassment, then paled as you remembered the camera immortalising your ordeal. Your walls tightened, chest beginning to stir with panic, but Ghost only whispered reassurances into your ear.

“This is for our eyes only,” he promised, as if he could hear your thoughts. And, though you couldn’t see it, his eyes reflected truth, honesty. As to whether König would adhere to such a sentiment was beyond you, yet he didn’t rebuke Ghost’s assurances. He pumped himself harder, faster, his breaths becoming deeper, heavier, an anchor dropped into an ocean.

You didn’t want the electric anticipation blooming in your core. You didn’t want Ghost’s thick fingers bringing you to your undoing. Yet here you were, whining and whimpering for the very man who’d forced himself on you, his other half watching nearby. You thought of how unfair it was - how easy it was for those two to get off while they left you pumped full of them with little in return, save for this forced euphoria. Then, as always, logic chased your misplaced agonies away, trying to remind you of the bigger picture; the fact that these men had been inside you at all.

Your stomach clenched as Ghost, now three fingers and knuckle-deep inside you, hit your sweet spot, making you moan, your back arch. Your skin peeled from his, sweat-sodden and sticky. You wanted to hold out, to refuse König and Ghost the satisfaction of having an orgasm ripped out of you. Ghost gave a rasp of a laugh, his broad chest ever a reminder of your lack of escape.

“Nearly there, Princess,” he said. “Just a little more for Daddy.”

At that, you couldn’t hold it anymore. You gave a wanton, loud moan, the call of a dying god, core spasming, euphoria shooting to each corner of your body and rendering you spent. You lay against Ghost, eyes half-lidded, muscles tingling as you relaxed, body practically on fire as you came down from your high. All the while, Ghost kept rolling his thumb against your clit, pumping his fingers into you at a subdued pace. He was waiting, like a shark circling blood. Your hazy mind couldn’t fathom what.

Breathing heavily, you wanted sleep to overcome you, to free you of this torture - this forced ‘pleasure’. And yet, your captors had other plans.

Practically tranquilised, Ghost pushed you onto your front, flipping you over so you could see the ceiling. He slid his fingers out of you, the wetness of his hand retracting from your pussy heard by all of you. König came into view above you, watching you. Observing you.

“Gotta act quick if you want to make sure she feels it.” Ghost said to his partner, not even sparing you another glance. He was occupied with watching your slick string and drip from his hand. König nodded and, with Ghost retracted from between your legs. Your heart spiked, thrumming in your chest, as you came to realise what they were doing. You almost reached out for him, begged for him to take you instead of König.

“No–!” Your rasping voice was cut off with a sharp slap, König having taken residence between your legs, the side of your face stinging, his hand imprinted there.

Still sensitive from your orgasm, you were hyper-aware of König’s coated length prodding against your puffed lips, from which you tried to retreat. Your energy depleted, you could only crawl an inch or two from König until he grabbed your knees and dragged you right back, bumping you against his rock-hard cock and making you cry out.

He didn’t let you get away again, instead calling you a “Spoiled brat,” and, almost as punishment, shoved his entire length into you with neither ceremony, nor courtesy. You screamed. Really screamed. The tip of König’s dick hit something inside you that shouldn’t have been accessible to him, burning your walls on the way, making them sear with agony. You felt tears burn your throat, collect in your eyes. Ghost shushed you, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing it.

He still didn’t speak to you, though.

“I warmed her up,” he said, turning to König. “I get to take her from the front.” His tone was absolute; this was not up for discussion.

König sighed, debating, then withdrew, cursing as he did so. You gasped, cold air hitting you, filling you. Not long after, Ghost settled where König had been, his associate coming to your other side. Ghost hoisted you up against his chest, your head lolling on his shoulder. König, now behind you, reached down and drew your slick down to your other hole, and it was in that second that a terror-filled epiphany hit you. And you couldn’t escape it.

Ghost wrapped your legs around his waist, your bound arms behind his head, his cock sat at your lips, the tip just barely pushing in. You choked back a sob, feeling König’s tip poking your other hole. The fact that you were sandwiched between the two - fully able to see what they were doing and how they looked doing it - made you sick. And it was in this position that you saw the blinking red light of the camera stood on the dresser, capturing all of it.

Ghost nudged the first couple of inches in, eyes squeezing shut as he did, breath wavering. Given how he took you from the front, he could feel his bulging cock in your stomach, against his front. He hit a part of you that had, miraculously, been spared thus far of much injury. Not for long, though. Ghost’s breathing shuttered, and, in his moment of stillness, König began pushing into you. His chest was broad against your back, giving you no means of escape.

This was different from before - different from when they’d both taken a single hole, filling you until you thought you’d tear. You felt middled - muddled - felt like a plug socket.

König made a sound of labour as he inched his way inside you, forcing your tight hole to take more of him. Your stomach was already swelling with half of Ghost’s length inside you, and now König’s mass only caused the mound in your stomach to grow. You dug your nails into Ghost’s hair, his scalp, the only thing you could grab onto, trying to let the pain of being stretched out so far pass.

Ghost groaned, his member twitching inside you. You could feel a prominent vein of his pulsing, almost buzzing inside you. König grunted, stabilising himself by slamming one hand on your waist. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Princess,” The name that dripped from König’s lips was oddly gentle, tender. His head was bowed, but you could feel his shoulders heave as he tried to collect his composure. Ghost, too, but he was less guarded about showing you just how good you made him feel.

He forced the rest of himself in, not as much of a gargantuan task as it had been earlier, given that you’d taken him before. But your sensitivity still made you sore, made you want to shy away from him. That, and the entire situation as a whole did little to make you want to stay.

Seeing Ghost buried to the hilt in you, König seemed to come to life, growling as any sensitivity he displayed towards you before vanished, replaced by a snarling creature. He rolled his hips, catching Ghost and sliding the rest of himself into you. Your lungs stuttered, your body stilled, tensing up. Both König and Ghost let out a groan, feeling you tighten around them.

“Fuck,” Ghost panted, “you must want us more than you’re letting on.”

The fight had left you long ago; you did not argue, nor did you corroborate Ghost’s claim. You just lay there and took it. You could feel how swollen your stomach was.

For however long after, while Ghost and König thrusted into you, you closed your eyes and tried to fight the dim pleasure growing in the cracked recesses of your core. Ghost pressed against your clit, making fragments of rapture flood through you, whether you wanted it or not.

“I’ll breed you so well,” Ghost panted, breathing heavy. His cock twitched, his hips rolled against yours. He was close. He brought your leg up beneath his arm and held you there, hitting you at a deeper angle. König grunted, pulling out and slamming back into you.

Ghost leaned into you, needing to be deeper - needing to fill you with as much of his load as your body would allow. And then some.

“We’ll raise an army of our own flesh and blood - our love.”

Love? You wanted to say. Love?!

What they were doing to you was not love. It displayed a hatred you’d never seen before - a pure selfishness as to strip you of your future, of your prospects, and all to become the mother of the children of the two monsters who held you captive in an unknown prison. ‘Home’ is what they’d convince you it was.

Ghost came inside you, a rasping moan tearing through his throat like light from a  beacon. You could feel his warm cum seeping into you, binding you to him as you gasped. König followed not long after, giving his all in his last sharp thrusts, the cum leaking from your cunt only spurring him to finish, essentially fucking remnants of Ghost’s cum back into another oriphis.

Your body practically jumped against Ghost’s, the force of König’s strength propelling you against him. And he held you, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close to him, whispering praises into your ear. 

König let out one last moaning growl before he stilled. You could feel his cum pumping into you - water through a hose pipe. You almost thought that perhaps he’d given into his savage instincts and transformed into a beast entirely, knotting you. But alas, the gods seemed to grant you a sliver of mercy for the fact that König’s monstrous personality remained concealed behind human skin, hiding it from anyone looking in. Only you had experienced its brutality first hand on such a personal, intimate level.

The air was thick with an unfamiliar scent, one that was no doubt pheromonal, intertwined with tension. Yet, it did not come from you, for you were far too exhausted to even muster an emotion. You merely panted into Ghost’s chest, König resting against your back, lying on you, sandwiching you further. The tension was between Ghost and König, that much you knew, You just prayed you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

“Don’t see why you get to breed her first,” König said. Ghost sighed.

“We won’t be sure which of us she’ll have borne a child for ‘til it’s here. Stop complainin’.” He panted, chest heaving. “You said I got to take her first, anyway. Change your mind?”

“That was before; this is now.”

Hearing them argue put you on edge, despite there being a laze to their tone which suggested the issue did not run as deep as it seemed.

“Oh, come off it,” Ghost said. “We’ll both get to breed her until we’re satisfied, anyway. So what’s the hurry?”

For possibly the hundredth time that night, your heart sank. Your gaze drifted from the camera to the door. You could chance it, you thought. You could at least try.

The glinting of an object on the bedside table caught your eye, and you found yourself straining to see it. The knife. The instrument they’d used to play a tune for themselves on your body like a harp. There it lay. The evidence and instigator of your capture - your captor - laying on the table like a clock or a pair of reading glasses would. It showed you the worst - made you aware of the fact that you were with them now, no longer held hostage by that very weapon, but by the creeping fondness you could taste seeping through your skin like poison. You’d taken to them, much how they’d taken you. Wanted, and used.

Bonus Ending

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Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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[gilverrwrites]

A kiss for the caged bird

Tim Drake/Reader, 5K

AN: Please don't think too hard into any of the science-y crap I wrote, I was pulling it all out of my butt. Anyway, this was supposed to be a quick 500-1000 thing to clear up my writer’s block and here we are. Bon appetit my loves, I hope you enjoy ♥︎ Warnings: Dub-con (purely by the nature of sex pollen) | voyeurism | swearing | dirty talk | mean-ish Tim | minor slut-shaming ♥︎

His normally tender blue eyes are completely saturated with a dense shade of green. From the whites, to his pupils, they almost seem to be glowing. They've also been watching you like a hawk with a heated intensity that puts your hairs on edge from behind the glass of his cell since you’d entered the cave.

“It's just a shame the one person who could probably crack this in no time is the one person who can't help us right now.” Dick laments as he adjusts his bootstraps. “But I have complete faith that Oracle has got this.”

“Me too.” You agree as you stare at the projected screen, all of Barbara’s research thus far. Most of it made little sense to you but it all seemed technical enough, like she was on the right track.

“Right, so she's gonna keep working on that, Spoiler and Orphan are following the Narrows lead while Red Hood and I check out the Reservoir.” The words breeze through your head, you know you should be paying more attention but you're only half listening. Tim has taken his shirt off and is leaning against the cell door. His toned body gleaning under a layer of perspiration, as his venomous green eyes stay locked onto your frame, in all of its dragged-out-of-bed-at-2 AM-after-a-looonnnnngggggg-day-patrol glory. Seemingly noticing your distraction, Nightwing steps into your line of sight as he continues to relay the plan. “You just have to make sure he doesn't hurt himself or do anything stupid until we figure this out.”

“I know, I got it.” Dick doesn’t seem convinced, frowning as his eyes dart between you and Tim. Ignoring his doubts, you settle into the chair at the centre of the console, clicking away until you pull up the live feed from inside Tims's 6x8 prison. You can understand Dicks caution, the undeniable chemistry you and Tim shared had been evident to everyone for a long time, impeached only by your mutual reluctance to date on the job. If Bruce were here, he’d never allow for this, but Dick is doing the best he can with the resources available. Regardless, all doubts aside, you won’t allow your feelings to cause problems, not when lives hang in the balance. “Just go.”

“You’re sure?” He tries to place a reassuring arm on your shoulder but you both jump at the sudden sound of Tim’s fist needlessly hitting the wall. He’d need superstrength to break out of that thing, you're not concerned. Maybe a little more roused by the lack of restraint than you’d like to admit, but no less confident in your ability to babysit than you had been moments ago.

“Certain.” You wave off Dick when he turns back to you, lips still pursed. “Go. Who knows what that crap is doing to him, the sooner you find Ivy, the better.”

He knows it, probably better than you do.

“Buzz if you need anything.” At once you're relieved by his departure, and concerned for his safety, for everyone’s safety.

“Be safe.” You bid, watching as he straddles the Wingcycle.

“Be safe.” He echoes and without another word he's gone, leaving you alone to care for your caged Red Robin.

For a long time, you stare at the empty space Dick left behind, all too aware of Tim and the way his hot-blooded stare makes your skin burn but eventually you have to face him. Can’t monitor him without looking at him after all.

In an attempt to ease the mood, you offer him a smile. Apparently, it does nothing to reassure him or ease his tensions. He simply continues to glower at you. When that doesn’t work you play up your preceding frown, playfully pouting the way you would when you’re teasing his mid-mission stresses, but that fails too. Finally, you curve your left hand in a half heart shape, a common greeting between the two of you from rooftop to rooftop and for a moment you think it might work. He pulls the hand he has pressed to the glass back for a moment, but all he does is clench his fingers back and forth a few times before letting it fall to his side.

At a loss you spin around to the computer, tapping your fingertips on the desk as you consider Barbara’s research once more. The chances of becoming a forensic palynologist within a few hours with nothing but google and whatever research Bruce has backed up in the archives is slim, but it saves twiddling your thumbs, so you start by looking up any chemicals identified by the forensic scanner that you’re not familiar with.

It’s hard to sit still, knowing your every move is being scrutinised but by far the worst part is the silence. Tim and you are muted to each other unless you’re pressing the comms link located on the keypad by the cell door. The only sounds you can make out are the far away screeches of real-life bats located further into the cavern, and the drip, drip, dripping of the wet walls. It’s downright eerie when you’re practically alone, so when Oracle buzzes in about an hour later you jump to answer it, eager to hear another human, and anxious to find out if she has any updates.

“How’s he holding up?” She asks, and you’re glad she can’t see your worried expression. Tim hasn’t moved since Dick left. Except for when you’d crossed the bullpen to look for a fresh pen after the one you’d been using ran out of ink. You exclude that last part from your update, however.

“Okay, just tell him to hang tight, I'm getting closer.” You can tell she’s trying to sound more hopeful than she actually is, and your suspicions are confirmed when she begins to ramble about her findings. She often uses the team as a sounding board when she’s trying to wrap her head around something. “The pollen he inhaled is decreasing his plasma levels and increasing his testosterone.”

“If he’d touched the plant like she’d wanted him too it would re-level those hormones, presumably she was relying on him needing that to keep him under her control.”

“Right.” You’ll pat yourself on the back for impressing her at a more appropriate time. “And if that were it, we could just pump a bunch of oxytocins into him and voilà! But something else is messing with his nociceptors. Not to mention this stuff is packed with things I’ve never even heard of. Have you heard of horny goat weed?”

“Yeah, epi-me-di-um.” You sound the word out from your notes. “Only since tonight.”

“Where do people get these names from?” Babs groans, you can hear her tapping away at her keyboard. “I’m close though, I know it.”

“I believe in you.” She ‘awhs’ at your encouragement.

“Until I’ve got this, there is one thing he can try.” She trails off at the end. Her hesitation strikes you as odd. Surely whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. “If he’s really suffering… ejaculating might help ease any pain if only temporarily. Masturbatory only, obviously, this stuff can and will spread like hot gossip at one of Bruce’s galas.”

“Ah, okay.” You understand her aversion now, looking over at Tim as you consider how you’re going to tell him that. “I will pass the information along.”

The line goes quiet, Babs clearly sensing your discomfort, but however you’re feeling, Tim is likely feeling one thousand times worse.

Habitually, you tell each other good luck and be safe before hanging up, promising to get back to each other ASAP should anything change.

As you pass by the glass of his cubicle to reach the control panel on the other side Tim follows, falling into stride with you like a mirror image. When you stop, he stops, pressing his forearm to the glass and leaning his weight against it as he awaits your next move. Tilting closer when your fingers graze the comms button. Up close you can see that actually his irises are still blue, they’re just almost non-existent, drowned out by his green sclera’s and the sheer size of his impossibly blown-out pupils. 

Bzzt. The mic crackles as you activate it.

“Hi.” You test the waters, but when he doesn’t respond you press on. “Are you in pain?”

He silently gazes at you for so long that you start to think he’s never going to answer you. Dumbly, you tap your finger on the plane to try and coax him out of his head, instantly feeling bad as you remember all those signs in zoos ‘PLEASE DON’T TAP THE GLASS, IT MAY CAUSE STRESS OR HARM TO THE ANIMALS’.

Tim must feel the same, like a caged beast, because the seething in his response startles you. 

“No.” He taunts mockingly, mouth still twisted into a tight snarl. “I feel fantastic.”

At least his sharp humour is unaffected.

“Oracle said… that…” You can’t help allowing your eyes to trail down his body, shamelessly locking onto the subject matter, due to the distance and the darkness of his tights you’d hadn’t noticed until now that he’s rock hard, the length of his erection straining against the close-fitting fabric. Your face burns at the realisation, at your obliviousness. Of course he was, that’s what aphrodisiacs do. But mostly you're ashamed of how much you enjoy looking at it.  

“Wh-” Tim's voice makes you jump. Embarrassed, you inadvertently take your hand off the switch. An uninfected Tim would have rolled his eyes at that, would have laughed at you good-naturedly, but this Tim just tilts his head like he’s cracking his neck, eye still on you. It’s like he physically can’t look at anything else, can’t stop drinking in every inch and crevice of you, cuts and moles and all. When you push down the button again, he repeats himself impatiently. Bzzt. “What did Oracle say?”

You take a deep breath, staring at the wall behind his head to help you concentrate, determined to get the words out no matter how awkward you feel saying it. “She said that masturbating, specifically ejaculating, won’t fix things, but it should… alleviate some of your discomfort, for a while.”

It’s his turn to drum his fingers on the glass, jaw growing tight as he seems to mull on what you’ve just told him. You chance a glance back down to his crotch just long enough to see him palm his hard-on through his pants. You’re unable to keep from imagining what he looks like down there or how he might go about pleasuring himself. Feeling bad for having such depraved thoughts about him while he’s suffering and vulnerable, you remind yourself not to gawk at him.

“No, I’m not doing that.” He states sternly.

“It might help.” Your objection comes purely from a place of concern.

“What would help me is if you’d fuck off.” His response is like a slap in the face, hitting you out of nowhere. You’re only trying to help, had your wondering eyes really prompted this level of ire?

“Wh- “

“It’s bad enough that I can’t control my body and that I’m stuck in here unable to do anything worth doing, but I have to watch you fucking slutting around in those f-.” Shocked by his sudden outburst, you instinctively pull your hand back. You know he’s just trying to let off his frustrations, but it still stings a little. Feeling bad for silencing his partly warranted rant, you tune back in, unable to keep yourself from flinching and jumpily flailing your hands around every time he gets under your skin. Bzzt. “Should be making an antidote or tracking down Ivy but instead all I can think about is bending you over that-”

Bzzt. “-out there trying to help me and I wanted to punch him for touching you like some macho i-” For the first time since you’d started supervising him, Tim finally looks away from you. Throwing his head back and tugging on his own hair as he tries to compose himself. It doesn’t work. You hadn’t thought it possible but when he finally comes back to you, his face is flooded with even more ferocity, like he wants to eat you alive. Bzzt.“-elp me, if you want to help me then fuck me yourself or get out of my sight!”

There's no way you’ll let him get away with talking to you like this, but now is not the time. Swallowing your pride and clenching your fists, you leave him be, hurrying back to the desk, cursing him under your breath as you pull your feet up into the chair and turn your back to him in order to try and make yourself as small as possible. You hate to admit it, but if it weren’t for the risk of infection, his parting words might have worked. Fuck. The thought of opening that door and letting him bend you over whatever he’d had in mind makes your blood rush. 

To distract from the thought of Tim’s cock being buried tight in your walls, or how hot he’d look, panting and red faced beneath you as you fucked yourself on his length, you return to your research, glancing at the live feed to Tim’s cell every few minutes purely to confirm that he’s still alive. 

You consider changing into something more conservative, this might be the one and only time you could consider slut-shaming somewhat okay, but to do that he'll be forced to look at you, so ultimately you elect not to.

Filthy thoughts continue to plague your imagination as you try to work, and the knowledge that Tim is thinking them too, only makes it worse. You’re so tired and tense and horny that after a while it becomes difficult to focus. You’re pressing your palms into your eyes when you hear a ping; A message from Spoiler to say that The Narrows was a bust, they’re moving on to another location. Another ping from Red Hood reporting a similar issue with their own intel. One more from Oracle to say that she’s pinpointed 90% of the formula and should be able to start reverse engineering soon. 

You chime in to state that Tim is holding up. The computer pings once more, a private message from Oracle asking if it helped. You’re part way through typing that he refused when you glance at the video feed, Tim still has his back to the camera, his body pointed toward you the same way he had been all night. You freeze as you notice his bare ass.

His hose are around his knees, back bent in a hunched position, one arm jerking rapidly to and throw as he presumably strokes his cock. Without thinking you turn to face him, and he brazenly stares back at you. Once your suspicions are confirmed, you rapidly swing back. 

He’s working on it. You amend. Unsure what to do from there you needlessly stare at the jagged ceiling, restlessly pulling at your fingers as you try to calm and distract yourself from the fact that Tim is currently playing with himself, and using whatever 2-inches of your skin he can see to fuel his fire. Brain and libido at odds, you force yourself not to look at the spectacle he’s putting on.

He’ll be mortified when he’s cured, don’t make it worse, you think. Yet ultimately you crack, too intrigued not to sneak another peek and once you give in to the temptation it becomes impossible to stop.

You could watch him like that all day. Watch the fierce look of concentration on his face, the bulge in his cheek where he’s biting his tongue. Watch the pink crown of his cock, and the way his balls tighten with each brutal thrust of his fist. Watch the way every lean muscle in his body tenses and twitches as waves of pleasure roll though his body. The way his green veins grow more pronounced as he chases his climax? Wait. That can’t be good. 

Had they been green this whole time and you just hadn’t noticed? You've only seen one thing like this before. Venom. Could that be the missing 10%?

As though you hadn’t just been ogling him, you cover your eyes as you approach. This time he doesn’t follow you, legs firmly planted on the ground, but when you glimpse through the cracks in your fingers his head is turned to watch you still and you hastily snap your digits closed again before you speak to him.

Bzzt. “Tim, your veins are turning green.”

At the sound of your voice his knees buckle, your hand falls away to watch as his weakened muscles cause him to fall forward. His weight rests precariously against the glass as he hangs between standing and kneeling.

“Tim. Y- “

“I know.” The aggressiveness in which he snaps at you makes your skin run cold, but he follows it with the most pained, puppy dog eyes that you immediately forgive him. As if you have ever been able to hold anything against him for a substantial period of time.

“It hurts.” His teeth are gritted as he explains. “Hurts when I stop.”

You’ve no idea what to say. You wonder if there’s a painkiller on earth that could help him right now but he speaks again before you can suggest it.

“Help me.” He sounds so solemn, despite the fact that he hasn’t once stopped stroking his dick, closely staring at every curve of your body.

“We’re trying.” Your words barely seem to register with him. “It won’t be much longer.”

“No. Help me.” The repeated instruction does nothing to clarify what else he could mean until he continues. “Your voice sounds so sexy, fuck. Talk to me.”

Oh. “And say what?”

“God, fuck. Do I have to spell it out for you? Anything!” He barks, simultaneously carnal and irritable. Each word out of his mouth is more breathless and desperate than the last.  “Fucking anything. Tell me you want me, that you want me to fuck you. Come on, please do this for me.”

“Okay, okay.” You can do this. “I do want you. I want to fuck- I want you to fuck me so bad, Tim.”

Despite it being true, you feel lame, clumsily parroting him, but Tims full bodied reaction spurs you on. He takes the final plunge, dropping onto his knees, leaning back on his haunches and practically presenting his engorged shaft to you. From here you can see how his skin is tinted several shades of pink and red. His blush seems to stem from his chest, running along his neck and shoulders, highlighting his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. You’ve never seen a prettier sight. It’s so enchanting, it almost diverts from his unnerving blood vessels.

“You’re so beautiful.” You purr, finding more confidence with every quiet huff and moan that spills from his lips. “I wish I could do this for you. I want to make you feel so good, I’d let you fuck me anywhere.”

He nods rapidly at you, encouraging you to continue while bucking his hips forward.

“I know your cock would fit just right in my mouth and feel so good, would make me gag until you came down my throat.” You open your mouth and stick your tongue out to show him, feeling silly until he replies.

“Fuck. Yeah. You’d look good sucking on my cock.”

“Yeah!” You agree, just the sight of him is enough to make your heartbeat race. But the thought of taking him in your mouth, slobbering all over his cock and watching him enjoy every second of it makes you rub your thighs together. You want so badly to get yourself off too but the little voice of conscience in the back of your brain is telling you not to, that it would be taking advantage. “Or you could bend me over, rip off my clothes and fuck me. I’d love to feel you pounding into my tight pussy.”

“Oh, pleasepleaseplease.” The words are slurred as he sinks his teeth hard into his tongue.

“You don’t have to beg, Timmy.” He hangs on your every word as you vocalise the thoughts and fantasies you’ve only ever indulge in when you’re alone at night. “You can have whatever you want. Fuck me however you want, you can fill me up over and over. We’ll make sure everyone knows who my pussy belongs to. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” The confirmation is instant, no-nonsense. Followed by him closing his eyes and slamming his spare hand against the window to steady himself. 

“Mine…” When he opens his eyes again, they unsurprisingly immediately lock onto you once more, zeroing in on your throbbing centre as he tells you. “Let me see it.”

“What?” The saliva in your mouth turns dry in an instant. Despite Tim baring all to you the thought of getting your whole pussy out in the Batcave scares you. In a strangely invigorating way.

“Need to cum and I fucking can’t.” Tim explains weakly, punching the wall again, this time with less vigour. “Show me your cunt.”

The c-word sounds so strange on Tims lips, so filthy. He’s frantic. You’re no closer to understanding how to cure him, and apparently your presence has only made things worse but maybe this is how you help him.

Hurriedly, you scurry over to the Batcomputer, Tim asserting his discontent by hammering his open palm on the wall repeatedly until you return moments later with the desk chair.

You waste little time shimmying out of your sleep shorts before you lose your bravado. Falling back into the chair, you adjust the height until your now exposed pussy is level with Tims eyeline. His demeanour changes in an instant, lips morphing into the first semblance of a smile he’d given you all night as he shifts closer.

Emboldened by his enthusiasm you spread your legs wide, resting your feet on the glass and using your fingers to spread apart your folds for him to get a real look. You’re not sure how he’ll feel about the shameful amount of moisture you’ve produced later, but for now his mouth very visibly waters. You don’t think he’s blinked since you sat down.

Uncurbed, you brush your finger over your sensitive clit, toes curling in response. You’d love to say you did it to put on a show for Tim, to help him find relief but in actuality it’s entirely self-serving. Unable to resist touching yourself at the sight of him on his knees for you, mercilessly fisting his cock in frenzied, rhymeless strokes. Regardless of your motivation, Tim seems to appreciate it.

Strands of his dark hair fall into his face as he leans forward, partly hiding his glassy eyes and reddened cheeks, but he quickly whips them back once more ensuring he maintains an uninhibited view of your fingers as they rapidly paw at your sex. Angling yourself so that Tim can see every minute detail, every roll of your hips as you lower your hand and sink two fingers into yourself. All the while you keep massaging your sensitive bud, Tim’s name a prayer on your lips as you watch him, watching you, fevered and hungry. 

It comes as a surprise when your orgasm hits first, walls convulsing and spasming as you objectify yourself for Tim, acting like his personal pornstar. It’s a shame he can’t hear the wetness of your hole or the strangled, lewd gasps and moans that escape your throat as your body trembles from the intensity of your climax.

The slick of your release leaks from your sex, trickling between your legs, down the chair, and onto the metal floor. Like a man starved, Tim slams his face into the glass, finally closing his eyes and lapping at the pane with a flattened tongue.

Whatever vision he’s conjuring works, his lids twitch, eyes darting open to watch your panting frame. He looks sacrilegious, full body blushed and sweating. His face softens, mouth slack and drooling as rope after rope of cum spills from his reddened tip and hits the pane.

You’re only able to enjoy the sight of him coming apart for a moment before you notice that the viscous fluid is unsettlingly coloured. Not milky white as it should be, but a strange, luminous green colour.

Tim slumps downward once he’s spent, and you watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest while he comes down from his high. Your heart aching as you wonder whether his pain has been even slightly alleviated. The fact that the swelling of his veins seems to have subsided bodes well. Eventually he comes too, enough to also notice the puddle of green excrement between his legs and it’s your turn to all but lunch yourself at him. You shout falls on deaf ears until your kick’s echoes into his cell. His hand freezes and he watches, still hunched as you stumble to the control panel on unsteady legs.

“Don’t touch it.” Tim nods sheepishly in agreement. It probably won’t hurt him, having come from inside him, but better safe than sorry. “I’m gonna grab you some gloves and slides to take samples with.”

Before he can concur, you’re gone, inelegantly hiking your bottoms back on as you go. You feel bad, jumping straight back into business without so much of a ‘how was that for you?’ but these are strange circumstances, and whatever freaky substance he just shot out of his balls might be the missing puzzle piece in treating him.

Eventually, once you’d collected everything you’ll need and updated the Team, you do ask, holding the mic down with your elbow as you pull on a pair of rubber gloves, waiting to take the samples from him. “How do you feel?”

“Hot, and sore.” He tells you. He’s pulled his trousers back up, but you can still see the outline of his half-hard penis. “It’s still in me, I can feel it, but it doesn’t hurt as much. I can think. Which is something.”

“I’m glad it helped. Hopefully we’ll get you back to normal before it gets bad again.” He offers you a smile then. A genuine, none-hedonic one that makes you feel fuzzy. You’ve missed that smile.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He places the slides, tools, and used gloves in the containment slot and closes his side of the two-way mechanism. You offer him a half heart which he returns before you start sorting and bagging everything.

You’re about to turn your back when he taps gently on the glass, gesturing for you to open the comms line again and you oblige with your elbow once more.

“Listen, I’m really sorry for being an ass earlier. You didn’t deserve what I said to you.”

You can tell he’s stressing about it from the gloomy look in his blue-green eyes and the way he tugs at his waistband. Normally he fidgets with his gloves or his collar, but needs must an’ all. You’d give anything to be able to hug him right now.

“Don’t worry, I know you didn’t really mean it.” Admittedly it had shaken you, for all of five minutes, but you’ve never been able to stay mad at Tim, even at his worst, and you’ve seen him do far worse. “You weren’t really mad at me, right? Just the situation?”

“Yeah. Mostly myself but that doesn’t make it okay.” He’s still fiddling, still looking at you mournfully. It means a lot that it bothers him so much, but you need that to stop. You need him to be normal for like half an hour so you can get some work done without worrying. And you need to get the work done so you can make up for your own misdeeds.

“No really, it’s fine I don’t care.” You stress, hoping if you chide him a little it will absolve him of his guilt. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I’ll try not to.” He promises. You can tell by the way he works his jaw back and forth that he’s working up to say something else, something that has his ears and cheeks turning pink. That or the absolved symptoms are coming back already. “And thank you. For the other stuff.”

“Oh good, I was worried you might regret that part.” You hadn’t realised how badly you needed to hear him say that until it happened. It’d kill you and whatever situationship you have going on if he’d considered your actions exploitative.

“No! Not at all. I mean, I always kind of hoped that one day we might end up…” He vaguely gestures into the air which doesn’t help his point, but you understand what he’s getting at and nod, urging him to continue. “You know? But I never would have imagined it happening like this.”

“I know what you mean. I always figured something might…” You’re floundering. This is not the time or place for this conversation, you’re completely unprepared and as badly as this conversation needs to be had, you really don’t have time. “I mean, I wouldn’t wish what’s happening on anyone, but if it had to happen, I’m glad it was you. Because you’re the only person I would have done that for.”  

You can’t imagine having done that for Dick, or Barbara, or God forbid Bruce. Just thinking about it makes your stomach churn.

“Good.” He seems more relieved now than he had when he’d cum. “I’d hate it if you’d done that with anyone else.”

If this were a movie or an action-romance novel, this is the part where you’d kiss, you think. But it’s not, and every second the two of you spend stammering about your feelings and making go-go eyes at each other is a second that could be spent on finding an antidote.

“We’ll talk, later.” You promise.

“I’d like that.” Tim replies before you pull away from the keypad. In a moment of whimsy, you blow your hot breath against the glass until it’s steamed up before pressing your puckered lips on it. No sound escapes the barrier between you, but you can see Tim laughing, his cheeks still palpably pink. He returns the gesture just moments before the Batcomputer begins to buzz.

Hi friend! I just wanted to let you know that I'm glad you exist. ♥︎

[absurdthirst]

Right Hand Man {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.8k

Warnings: 1920s AU, mentions of arranged marriage, domestic abuse, masturbation, voyeurism, infidelity, cuckolding, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), pregnancy, childbirth, fighting, death

Comments: Positioned as your husband's right hand man, Dave watches. Knowing you are unhappy and you want him. Waiting until the time is right for him to make his move.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh as you look across the dining room to your husband. The man you’ve been married to for three years. It feels like an eternity. The table is almost as long, positioning you on the opposite side so you have to practically shout to speak to him. He prefers that, you suppose, so he can have his peace and quiet. He’s a rich man, focused on business and not silly little things like books and art and poetry. None of your interests are his interests yet you married him because you were forced. Your parents arranged the marriage to him and you had to go along with it. In this day and age, a girl can’t afford to go it alone. You sip on your wine, expensive, of course. So expensive the dust needed to be wiped off of the bottle. Yet you barely notice the heady taste of it as your eyes flick over to the man sitting next to your husband at the other end of the dining table. David York. Dave, to your husband and those close to him. Your husband’s right hand man in business and the man you think about when your husband is inside of you.

Talking about business over dinner is never Dave’s favorite thing, but it keeps him occupied. Keeping him from glancing down to the end of the table to where you sit. He shouldn’t want you, shouldn’t know every time you lift the wine glass to your lips. Too many times, in his opinion. He shouldn’t hear the soft sigh that seems to reach only his own ears. You are a wife, the wife to, technically, his boss. He shouldn’t want you, but he does and he ignores it just like he has from the moment your husband brought you home to this elaborately overdone mansion to be a virtual prisoner.

You sigh again as Dave completely avoids looking at you. You know he’s loyal to your husband, Edward, but you can’t help imagining him losing control and taking you as his own. It’s what fuels you on lonely nights when dear Eddie is out fucking every whore within a ten mile radius. Any floozy who likes sparkly things. Like damn magpies. You were hurt when you were first married, now you’re just glad they do the job that is supposed to be yours. Outsourcing is what you affectionately call it when trying to preserve your dignity around the other wives when Edward takes you to the country club. Edward has fucked you, of course he has, in his desperate bid for an heir but you’ve been successful to avoid getting pregnant. Using every old wives tale to avoid it, you’ve been successful thus far. Although it’s a special occasion if Eddie does try to fuck you. Usually he’s too occupied with his work or his whores. You down the rest of your wine and stand up, bringing the eyes of the men at the other end of the table to you. “I’m going to bed.” You announce and Eddie doesn’t say anything as his eyes turn back to his papers.

Dark eyes fixed on you, noticing the pretty shade of lipstick you are wearing is wine smudged. Making it look like you’ve been thoroughly kissed. He clenches his jaw at how dismissively your husband treats you, but it’s not for nothing when Eddie murmurs his name. “Escort my wife to her room.” He suggests dismissively, even though it’s not a suggestion. For some strange reason, Eddie wanted you escorted through a home that was also supposed to be yours, but Dave doesn’t ignore the opportunity to spend a few moments with you. “Of course.” He nods and stands, buttoning his suit jacket before walking down to your end of the table.

Your heart pounds as Dave walks past you to open the house and you stumble slightly as you make your way past him and down the hall. Dave walks silently beside you, walking in front of you as you head upstairs to your quarters, and you admire his broad shoulders in his well tailored suit. Opening the door to your bedroom - Eddie has his own suite on the other side of the house - you walk in and turn to look at Dave, "thank you for escorting me back to my room." You say, biting your wine stained lips as the man stands there quietly. You wonder what's going through his mind and you desperately want to break him. To see if he feels the same way you do. The fact that you want to rip that suit off and make him moan your name. He's dangerous and that makes you want him even more, the capability he exudes. You decide to play with fire, reaching for the zipper of your dress as you pull it down, letting your dress slip from your body to pool at your feet, displaying the stockings, garter belt, and bra that are keeping you together beneath the expensive flapper dress that is all the style nowadays.

Every muscle in Dave’s body tightens and he wants nothing more than to jump on you. To devour you whole and make you scream his name while he pounds into you. Still, he shows no outward emotion. He can’t right now. He would lose his advantage and there were still pieces he was moving around the board. “Goodnight, Mrs. Holt.” He inclines his head respectfully and turns around to exit the room, thankful that his suit is cut in a way to hide the semi he’s sporting.

You stare at the door he closes behind him and you inhale sharply. You feel embarrassed and then the anger hits you. You offered yourself on a plate and he won’t touch you. You’ve only ever been with Edward, a deal made by your parents and his when you were a teenager. A deal you never had a say in. You were married off to Eddie as soon as you completed finishing school. Huffing, you decide to get ready for bed and form a plan to seduce David York.

Dave strides back into the dining room to find your husband moving towards his office. “I’m going to go to the club.” He tells Dave and he knows that your husband is actually going to his mistress’s townhouse. He doesn’t know if you are aware of it, but Eddie has taken to an actress and bought her a townhouse to keep her in town. It’s nothing that would probably surprise you, but it’s not Dave’s place to talk to him about his deplorable behavior. If Dave had a wife like you, he would never leave your bed. You would be in his room, it would be shared. Instead of telling him that he needs to stay home and pay you some attention, he nods. “Very well, I will forego my own plans this evening to keep an eye on things here.” He tells Eddie.

You slide into your bed, the silk sheets are luxurious but what good is luxury when you are in a gilded prison? Many would ask why you wouldn't try to leave. You have. You have told Eddie many times that you want to divorce him, to let him be the playboy he is without you waiting on him, but all that got you was a slap around the face. He told you that the only way you'd be leaving him would be in a casket. You nursed your bruised skin and carried on, trying to conceal the pain both inside and outside. Dave has been your only solace, granting you a glimpse into what could be. What you'd want if you weren't trapped in this marriage. You sigh, tossing in your bed, until you decide to get a drink to calm yourself down. Sliding into your robe and slippers, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen. The staff have all retired for the night so you appreciate the quiet as you enter the ornate kitchen to get a glass of water.

Sitting at the kitchen table, used by the staff. Dave sits with a bottle of scotch and a crystal glass. Even though his boss is a piece of shit, his wealth afforded a lot of luxuries that Dave had never known existed. He didn’t have the luxury of being born into the class that you and Eddie lived in. Dave had been born in the slums, scrapping and fighting from a small age for survival. It has served him, while he still was on the darker side of morality, he has risen from his humble roots. Sitting in a wealthy man’s kitchen, drinking his expensive liquor before sleeping in silk sheets. He stares at the amber liquid in the glass, wondering when he had stopped enjoying these things.

Your eyes widen as you see Dave sitting there sipping on what looks like scotch. “I didn’t expect you to still be here. I’m guessing Eddie has gone to see one of his whores?” You ask as you grab a glass and pour yourself some water. Dave’s dark eyes meet yours and you see the answer there. “Well, at least I have some peace and quiet.” You sigh and lean against the kitchen counter as you take a gulp of the water. “You’re still here? To babysit me?” You snort, “or you don’t have a home to go to?”

Dave’s stare at you is narrow, his eyes dark before he looks away. Down at his drink again. “Why drink at home when I can drink this for free?” He asks sarcastically, draining the rest of the scotch and pouring another two fingers. “I’ve got a room here.” He reminds you.

You nod, “yes. You’re the one who can come and go. Me? I’m trapped here.” You down the rest of your water and set the glass on the counter. “I was thinking about throwing a party. We haven’t had one for a while. Get the champagne flowing and Eddie can invite his girls right under my nose.” You chuckle humorlessly, “and I can get drunk and wallow in my self pity.” You sigh dramatically, “unless someone decides to distract me from my turmoil.” You say, undoing your robe and you stare at Dave for a moment, wanting to offer him another chance now that Eddie is gone.

It’s tempting. Fuck, he just knows you would melt under his touch. You’re innocent and it’s very telling that Eddie doesn’t talk about you like he does his other women. He likes that you’re nearly pure. Dave can tell you want to explore and do filthy things. “Choose someone I don’t like.” Dave grunts, making you frown. “Why is that?” You huff. Dave holds his glass up to the light and examines the liquor inside. “Because I’ll have to break the fingers of whoever touches you.”

Your eyes widen and your stomach clenches with arousal at the dark look in his eyes. You know he’s saying it because Eddie would kill anyone that touched you and he discovered it. Especially since he’s growing desperate for an heir to his estate. “Eddie’s right hand man protecting what belongs to his boss.” You snort, “of course.” You scoff and shake your head, “goodnight, David.” You make your way out of the kitchen, tying your robe as you slink back to your bedroom, embarrassment swirling in your gut as you put yourself on a platter for the man again and he refused to touch you. You’ll plan a party. That will distract you from wanting a man that doesn’t want you back.

Dave hisses after you leave the kitchen. Reaching down and adjusting the way his now hard cock is pressing against his trousers. Your nightgown was silky and thin, giving him no illusions and paired with the image of you in your undergarments has him throbbing. “Damnit.” He murmurs, wishing that he was in a position to do what he wants, but he’s not there yet.

****

The party you planned is in full swing. Eddie greets the guests with a champagne toast before the band begins to play and the swinging jazz is loud enough to echo through the estate. You sip your champagne, the tassels of your dress swinging as you sway to the music. You feel happy for the first time in weeks since Dave’s rejection and you’ve kept to yourself since that night, avoiding the man and your husband with experienced precision. Eddie is already off with Jasmine Parker, a socialite who you know is already vying for your position as Mrs. Holt and you are tempted to make it easy for her to take your place but Eddie would never allow it. Your parents are one of the founding families and he wants your status as his crowning glory on his empire. You glance at the couples dancing and kissing or more and sigh, feeling immensely alone. Deciding to take a break, you make your way to your quarters and set your champagne glass down. Stripping out of your dress, you take off your bra and panties and remain in your garter and stockings. It’s chilly tonight so you grab your furs, leaving on your pearls as you lay down and grab your glass of champagne, taking a sip before resting your head on your pillow. The jazz music has faded as you slide your hand along your body, imagining someone that adores you is touching you. Imagining that Dave is the one touching you with those strong capable hands. You whimper as you squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple and sliding your hand lower until you spread your thighs, pressing a delicate finger against your clit.

He’s not working tonight, so where you’ve disappeared to is none of his concern, but Dave looks at his watch when you don’t return to the party quickly. Frowning, he sets his champagne glass down, aware that your husband has no idea that you’ve disappeared from your own party. He checks the power rooms and then quickly makes his way over to your wing of the house, determined to find where you’ve gone.

You whimper, spreading your legs a little wider and moaning as you rub your clit. This is the only kind of pleasure you’ve ever known. Eddie has never made you feel desired or made you see stars…unless it’s his hand hitting your head. You sigh, a soft whisper of Dave’s name leaving your lips as you imagine him touching you. You imagine he’d be rough but giving, wanting to control your pleasure for his own satisfactions.

Your words in his mind, Dave moves silently down the hall to your rooms. He never agreed with having you on the opposite side of the house, but now he understands it. The sounds from the party are non-existent. He hears a moan and clenches his teeth in fury. He had turned down your obvious overtures and now you’ve found some other poor sap to risk getting his spine snapped. Even if Eddie wouldn’t order it, Dave will beat the life out of whoever had touched you. Fist tight to his side, the other hand turns the handle to your room and he barges in, eager to interrupt your little tête à tête.

You gasp, spilling some champagne as Dave barges in the room, fists clenched, and the shock dissipates almost immediately when you see he’s alone. You smirk and tilt your head back against your pillow, continuing to rub your clit as you work yourself up to an orgasm in front of your husband’s right hand man.

He can’t even speak. Nude except for a fur stole and pearls, your hand is between your thigh and the other clutching a flute of champagne makes you look like the classiest of whores. But a whore, you are not. You’re a woman who has been denied pleasure and Dave feels his restraint snap. Flipping the latch to your door so no one else can enter, he strides over to your bed and grabs your hand that’s between your thighs and pulls it away.

Your eyes narrow and you practically growl at him as he stops you from pleasuring yourself. "Are you going to control the way I touch myself too?" You hiss at him but he silences you by sliding your fingers into his mouth. Those dark eyes on yours as he tastes your arousal from your digits and you heave a breath at the lust that slams into you. "I just wanted a taste." He explains after he releases your fingers and you nod, dumbstruck. "Continue touching yourself." He demands, stepping back and you whine, "David." He shakes his head, "I want to watch you make yourself cum." His voice is full of command that makes you gush again and how can you deny him? Your hand shakes slightly as you press your damp fingers to your folds, rubbing your clit as your eyes meet his and your mouth falls open while you work yourself towards your climax.

Your nipples are hard, making his palms itch to fill his hands with your skin. To squeeze them and pinch the sensitive buds. But between your thighs, that is where the real show is. His dark eyes fix on your hand, occasionally flicking to watch your expression again. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You feel powerful, having him watch you as you take your own pleasure. His hissed curse pushes you closer and you keep your eyes on him as you whimper, getting closer and closer until finally, you fall over the edge. His name is not unexpected to fall from your lips but you know you’ll fluster later thinking about this moment. The way he unraveled you without a touch. “Dave.” You gasp as your fingers furiously rub your clit to work yourself through your orgasm.

Dave’s entire body hurts with the desire to claim you. To make you cry out his name because of him. Because of what he does to you. He can’t. You aren’t his. You are Eddie’s, even if the bastard doesn’t appreciate you. Your eyes are closed and there’s a softness to you as you catch your breath. “Beautiful, princess.” He grunts. “Now go to sleep.” He orders, turning around and walking away before he fucks up and crosses a line he can’t go back from.

You stare at him as he opens the door and exits your bedroom. "You bastard!" You scream at him, throwing the champagne glass at the door as you choke on a sob. You feel used now. He watched you in a vulnerable moment and didn't make a move. He's messing with you. Maybe he's testing you on Edward's behalf. You sob as you stumble into your en-suite, feeling so alone despite the hundreds of people partying below. You hate David York.

When he closes the door, Dave sighs. It had been so tempting but he just can’t touch you. 

****

“I will be gone for a week.” Eddie adjusts his collar and straightens his tie. “Business.” The smirk on his face tells Dave the business is that budding little socialite actress that he had been fucking. He nods. “What do you want me to do?”

Edward grabs his briefcase, “you stay here. Make sure my darling wife doesn’t escape. I don’t want her leaving the estate. You understand?” He asks Dave, “she hasn’t given me an heir yet. It’s…getting tedious.” Edward huffs and shakes his head, “I will have to have a doctor see to her soon if she does not conceive when I decide to fuck her next.”

He wants to tell Eddie that it’s hard to impregnant someone if they never fuck them, but he just nods silently. “Knew I could count on you.” He smirks and then chuckles. “Drink the scotch, it will help you get through the week with my boring wife.”

You know that Eddie is going into the city to see the latest woman that has caught his fancy. You don’t care. It’s saving you a week of hoping he doesn’t come to your room to ask for sex. You expect to have the estate to yourself when you see Eddie’s car disappear down the driveway and you make your way downstairs. You’re surprised when you find Dave sitting in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee that the housekeeper prepared for him. “What are you doing here, David?” You ask petulantly. Annoyed that Eddie let Dave here to babysit you and make sure you won’t escape.

“Keeping an eye on things.” He knows you are annoyed with him, you’ve made that quite clear by giving him the cold shoulder since the party. As long as you or Eddie don’t know how often he jerks off thinking about you spread out and playing with your cunt. “Here for the week, so deal with it.”

You huff, grabbing a glass to pour yourself a glass of orange juice that the housekeeper squeezed fresh this morning. “Well, it’s going to be a boring week for you.” You hum and lick your lips.

“Don’t mind boring.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Better than a busy week.” He admits, happy for the downtime, especially since he’s almost got everything prepared to walk away.”

You cross your arms, "well, it's going to be boring for me. Hanging around this house. Nothing to do except drink and read." You sigh, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "Not like anyone here will entertain me."

Dave snorts, enjoying the obvious attempt you are making to goad him. “Poor little rich girl.” He sympathizes mockingly. “Maybe I should send the housekeeper, maids and cook away to give you something to do?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I did not - you misunderstood me. You always seem to do that.” You huff and shake your head, “you’re infuriating. Following Edward around like his lost puppy. What are you waiting for? Him to throw you a bone? Money? He’s just using you like he uses all of us.” You spit at him, “we are all pawns in his game and you’re doing his dirty work.”

Dave narrows his eyes at you for a moment, not liking your view of him, but then he chuckles. “You think he’s using me, Princess?” He snorts. “That’s rich. Very rich. Considering.”

“Considering what?” You narrow your eyes at him again and slam your glass down, walking over to the kitchen table to press your palms to the tabletop. Your eyes burn into his as you lean over him. “What do you mean?” You demand to know.

Even if you said something to Edward, he wouldn’t believe you but Dave doesn’t think that you would willingly tell your husband this. “Considering…..” Dave smirks at you. “I’m using him. Have been since I saved him from getting beat to death.” He chuckles. “I drink his booze, sleep under his roof….” His eyes drop down to your cleavage. “Watch his wife make herself cum.”

You inhale sharply, shifting to stand up straight. You remember the first time Edward brought Dave home. He said he’d met him at a work function and clicked with the younger man. “You- he said you met at a work function. Wow…he’s even lied to me about that. I don’t think the man is capable of telling his wife the truth. Maybe that’s why she lets other men watch her cum.” You snort and turn away from Dave to grab your drink. It’s refreshing to hear someone say they are using Edward when your husband thinks he has everyone figured out and under his control.

Dave chuckles, watching you pour your drink and take a sip. “I was entertained.” He hums, drinking the rest of his coffee and standing after he folds the newspaper. “But soon, I’ll be leaving your husband’s employment.”

You turn to look at him, trying to hide your disappointment. As much as you and Dave have this - this unspoken thing - between you, you know you’ll die of boredom without him bothering you. You will be left in your quarters without anyone to talk to or spar with. You’ll be utterly heartbroken without him. You hate the idea of him going but you hate the idea of telling him that more. “Where are you going?” You inquire, trying to act like you don’t really care.

“Work for myself.” What you aren’t aware of, is that Edward isn’t very well liked amongst his business partners. Too brash and easy to dismiss. Dave has been watching and acquiring contacts. Networking under his nose. Almost ready to pull the rug out from under him.

“You can’t leave.” You tell him and he snorts, “and why not, Princess?” He asks and you blurt out, “you can’t leave me here alone. I don’t want you to go.” The words are out before you can stop them and you immediately regret them, knowing he’s got the upper hand once again.

“I’m not leaving yet.” He promises, even though he doesn’t know why he is assuring you of that. “Soon you’ll be busy having Edward’s children and raising them.”

You scoff, “he’d actually have to fuck me to get that to happen and even if he did I would try everything to prevent it.” You say without thinking and your eyes widen. “I didn’t - oh God. Don’t tell him that I- Dave.” You plead and he shakes his head, “your secret is safe with me, Princess. Just be a good girl.” He urges and you frown as he leaves the kitchen. Every interaction with the man confuses you even more until you don’t know where you stand with him.

Dave spends the afternoon in Eddie’s office. Using the telephone in there to make several calls and once he sets the phone down in the cradle once last time, he smirks to himself. Tapping his hand on the desk that exudes the image of power and considers buying one for himself once he has his own mansion. Tilting his head when he hears a noise, he pushes back from the desk and stands. Wanting to make sure that you’ve not decided to throw another party last minute.

You sway to the music coming out of the radio and smile at the familiar song. Swaying your hips, you lift your hands over your head as you start to dance, letting your mind go blank as you enjoy the freedom without Eddie in the house. Even if it can get lonely with only the staff to keep you company.

You had made comments about being lonely, but Eddie had always waved it away as you being spoilt because you weren’t being doted on. Watching you dance to the music, no one else on the floor, Dave is struck by just how alone you are. Isolated and confined by the man you had been married off to. His heart pounds and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s quickly moving quietly across the floor to sweep you up into his arms. The staff has gone home, so it’s just you and him in the house.

You gasp as you feel someone grab you and your first instinct is to fight until you see it’s Dave. “Goodness, you scared me.” You confess and he chuckles as he starts to lead you, swaying you to the music. Your fingers flex against his bicep, his jacket discarded somewhere and you feel secure in his arms, you feel safe. This is what you have yearned for during your nights alone. “I didn’t know you could dance.” You murmur, looking into those beautiful dark brown eyes that hold secrets you’ll never be privy to.

“Never done it.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “Watched it plenty, practiced by myself.” He knows you won’t judge him for that, now when you have just been dancing by yourself as well. “If I’m going to be a wealthy man one day, I should be able to dance.”

You like his ambition, the sparkle in his eyes. “Just promise me one thing.” You request as his hand rests on the small of your back. “Tell me, Princess.” He orders and you look into his eyes for a second. “Don’t forget who you are. Be true to yourself.” You urge, knowing what money can do to men. It can corrupt, it destroys. You don’t want to see him change when he’s strong and charismatic and…and sexy.

Dave lifts a brow, surprised by your request and he nods. “Grew up dirt poor and fighting to survive.” He reveals quietly. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget that but when I finally have a wife, kids of my own, I want to give them the world.”

You hate the thought of him married to another woman, giving her the life she deserves and all of him. Having his children. Dave is a rare gem in your otherwise lackluster jewelry box of family, friends, and acquaintances. He’s authentic and you love that.

Your expression falls and Dave frowns, letting go of your waist when you look away and grabbing your chin gently to turn it back towards him. You flinch and that pisses him off, knowing that Eddie had slapped you around too often for Dave’s liking. He could beat on a woman, but too much of a coward to take on a man his own size. “What?”

You push his hand away from your chin. “You don’t care. You’re here to babysit me for Eddie. Even throwing myself at you…you reject me. Lord above, you’ve seen me - well, you’ve seen all of me and yet I’ve seen none of you. Not even your true thoughts and feelings. I feel exposed when you just look at me. It unnerves me and yet it makes me want to beg you to fuck me but God forbid I stoop so low to beg. You’d surely laugh at me and I couldn’t - that would be too much to bear for a woman who constantly lives as an ornament in her own home.” You choke and turn away from him, not wanting to stay and hear him reject you again.

Dave grabs your arm harshly and spins you around to face him again. Making you gasp out in surprise and the retort that he had died on his lips. Surging forward as he crushes you to him, Dave’s mouth falls over yours in a completely devouring kiss. Giving into the emotions and wants that he has been so careful to keep secret until now.

You gasp into his mouth, shocked for several seconds until you melt against him. He kisses you like a man starved of affection. You’ve never been kissed like this. Edward only kisses you in public to keep up pretenses. Your fingers find purchase in his slicked back hair and you press yourself against him as you let him devour you.

Dave licks into your mouth like you are the sweetest treat. Sampling you and groaning at the flavors that make you up. His hands tighten on your body and he starts striding back, guiding you towards the door and pressing you against it while he plunders your mouth greedily.

Your hands slide down to grip his shirt, pulling him even closer as he presses you into the ornate wooden door. “Dave.” You gasp when he pulls back to let you catch your breath and he trails his kisses along your jaw. “Please.” You beg, needing more from him.

You deserve more than a quick fuck against a door. You deserve to be taken apart and shown how desirable you are. “Where do you want me to fuck you, Princess?” He growls, sliding his hand down to cup your cunt through your dress. “Here? On your husband’s desk? Your bed?”

“Oh God.” You can’t deny the idea of him taking you on Eddie’s beloved desk makes you soak your panties but you want to be fucked by Dave in a bed. “Bed. My bed.” You manage to spit out as he bites down on your neck and rubs your pussy through the silk.

He chuckles darkly, happy you had chosen that option. He wants to spread you out. Pulling away, he decides he’s going to show you how much he wants you. Ducking down, Dave flips you over his shoulder and stands straight despite your shriek of surprise. Striding out of the ballroom and towards the stairs that will take him to your room.

Your hands scramble to grip him so he doesn’t drop you but he carries you up the stairs and practically kicks your door open, throwing you down on the bed. You don’t get a chance to move when he is dragging you down to the edge of the bed, pulling off your shoes. “Want you naked.” He demands and you nod, “undress me.”

He’s not gentle. Not when he’s going to see you naked again. The image is burned into his mind and he wants to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Fabric rips but he just pulls harder in his haste to have you bare. “He’s a fucking idiot.” Dave hisses when he has you out of your dress to work on your undergarments. “I’d be right here. Everyday. Devouring you instead of fucking off.”

His words make you moan. A sound that’s been foreign to you in your prior couplings with your husband. Dave brings out a side of you you’ve never known. His hands work fast to remove your underwear, ripping the stockings and untying the garter belt. When you’re fully bare in front of you, you realize he’s still dressed. “This isn’t fair. You’re still clothed.” You huff, shaking your head at him as he looms above you.

He rolls his eyes but his tie is already gone so he slips the suspenders off his shoulders and starts to unbutton his shirt. “You want me naked, Princess? Over you, inside you like I’ve imagined a thousand times?” He smirks when he moves to shrug out of the shirt. “Jerked my cock raw the night you played with your cunt in front of me. Hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

You are hypnotized by him as he removes his clothes. “I - I thought you were revolted by me that night. That you didn’t want me.” You confess breathlessly as he works in his trousers and you are so eager to see him.

“Princess, if you could hear the thoughts I was having…” Dave snorts. “The fucking arguement of why it was so stupid to touch you just then. I would have sold my fucking soul for an hour between those pretty thighs.”

You moan at his words and shift to kneel on the bed, reaching out to unbutton his pants, letting them fall to the floor and you reach into his briefs to pull out his hard cock. “Fuck me.” You choke at the sheer size of him, and you squeeze him. “I would’ve sold my soul if I knew you had this hiding in your pants.” You confess, looking up at him.

He chuckles, aware that for all his boasting, Dave has your husband beat in cock size. “You don’t even know if you can take me, Princess. I know that little cunt is tight.” He smirks. “Why don’t you get it nice and wet by sucking my cock like a good little whore?”

His words should insult you. You should slap him for being so crass but instead, it makes you moan. You moan and shuffle closer, your eyes fixed on his as you take him into your mouth. Jaw stretched as you wrap your lips around the head and taste the salt of his pre-cum that gathered.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at where you are taking his cock into your mouth. It’s clear that you have no experience in it, Eddie had claimed you were disgusted by the idea, but it was just him you were refusing. “Relax your jaw.” He grunts, caressing your cheek and then sliding his hand down to cup your chin. Feeling your throat move. “Don’t gag.”

You follow his order, relaxing your jaw and you close your eyes to focus on not gagging as he rocks his hips. You want this to be good for him. You want him to enjoy every second of being with you. Your eyes open again just as he thrusts a little too hard and you gag as he pushes down your throat.

Pulling his hips back, Dave waits for you to catch your breath. “Is your cunt dripping? Throbbing from how turned on you are?” He coos, smirking down at your watery face. “You like it. You want me to use you, don’t you?”

You want him to use you, to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. “Yes. Please Dave. I need - I don’t even know what I need. No one - Edward never- please. Use me.” You beg and surge forward to take him into your mouth again.

Dave grunts, grabbing the back of your head and this time, he isn’t gentle. The way you eagerly open up for him has his hips snapping forward and he ignores the way you gag and gasp, enjoying the way your eyes water and your body heaves. Your cunt will be dripping wet by the time he touches you. Holding onto your head, he starts fucking your mouth, showing you how your husband should have been putting that smart little hole to use.

You choke around him, spit flying from your mouth and you moan when his cock twitches violently in your mouth. This is what you want. Passion. Need. Desire. Not just doing a duty. You moan his name, it's muffled around his length but you love when his dark eyes meet your watery ones and he lets out a dark chuckle.

“You love it.” He hums, rubbing his thumb through your spit. “Fuck, I bet you could cum from sucking my cock. Filthy.” He wants to spill down your throat, but he wants to fill you up more. Reluctantly pulling his hips back, he taps your cheek. “Flip over and push your ass up in the air. Legs spread. I want to see that cunt.”

You gasp, trying to catch your breath as a line of spit keeps you connected to him. “Fuck. Yes baby. I- I want you.” You promise and shift to kneel on the bed, settling down onto your elbows so he can see your dripping pussy on display for him.

Goddamn, your cunt is slick and shiny with arousal and Dave’s cock twitches. He reaches out and slaps your ass harshly, loving how you cry out in surprise. “Fuck.”

You cry out again when he smacks you and you love it. Sometimes Edward would smack your face if you displeased him but this - Dave smacking your ass- has you dripping for him. “Please baby. More.” You beg, wanting to feel more from him.

He chuckles, slapping your ass again and grabbing it with both hands. Squeezing it and pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look. He’s had plenty of women, but none that he’s wanted as much as he wants you. He slides a hand down to your cunt and groans at how wet you are. “Such a little whore, aren’t you? My whore.”

You should slap him for speaking to you like that but you can’t. You moan and nod, “yours, Dave. All yours. Your whore.” You promise as his fingers rub your hole to gather up all the arousal that has gathered there.

Dave groans at how wet you are, sliding two of his thick fingers inside you and hissing at how tight you are.

You pant as he pushes his digits deep and you know you’re going to enjoy this more than your own fingers inside of you. “Oh God, Dave.” You whine as he starts to pump his fingers inside of you. “Yessss.” You hiss when he curls them just right and your thighs shake slightly.

“Fuck, he’s been slacking.” He grunts. “I would have had this cunt worn out. Split open on my cock every night until you can't walk.” You aren’t his, but he would be so possessive of you if you were. Pushing him away, he would be so eager to bend you over and feed you his cock into all your holes.

You gasp at his words, gushing around his digits and his thumb presses against your clit. “Oh God. Oh shit. Da-Dave.” You cry as you clamp down on his fingers and moan his name, “I love - I love it.” You choke as he works you through your orgasm. The first you’ve ever had from another person.

Dave hisses at how tight you get, squeezing his fingers like a vice. “That’s it, Princess. You cum for me. Want you to be cock drunk when I’m done with you.” He’s got no intention of stopping now. Not when you have moaned his name because of him, he’s greedy for it.

You press your cheek against the cool sheets as his wet fingers caress your ass. “David.” You plead softly, “I need you to fuck me. Hard.” You beg, needing more from him. You’ve wanted him for so long. You need him now.

“I’m going to, Princess.” He doesn’t say anything else as he kneels behind you, ready to mount up. He knows that you are about to cheat, but you don’t care. He pumps his cock a few times and notches himself at your entrance, pushing deep with a grunt of your name.

You practically sob as he stretches you out. “Dave. Dave. Dave.” You chant as he stretches you more than Edward has ever. You feel like he’s splitting you in two but you fucking love it. You choke as he starts to move, thrusting hard and fast inside of you. You whimper as he thrusts deep, his fingers digging into your flesh and you swear you see stars.

He’s not gentle, you don’t want him to be. His hips slap against your ass while he ruthlessly buries his cock as deep as he can every thrust. Taking you, possessing you in the only way that he knows how and loving every single time you clamp down around him.

He pants as you push back against him, wanting him to take what he wants from you. “Yesss.” You hiss into the sheets, “that’s it baby. Oh God. Keep - keep going.” You plead as his fingers dig into your hips.

Dave groans, rubbing your hip and then slapping your ass right before he pushes deep again. “Good fucking god.” He hisses. “You are perfect. Fucking perfect.” So innocent, yet so fucking filthy. He twitches inside you. “You gonna cum on my cock for me?”

You nod, frantically trying to show him how good you can be for him. “Yes. Yes. I’m gonna - oh shit, Dave. You’re - it’s so good. I love - oh fuck.” You choke as he rocks into you, “I want you to- to show me what I’ve been missing.”

“This cunt is mine.” Dave growls, snapping his hips forward again. “Not his. Mine. Do you understand?” He rocks his hips and reaches around to grab your tit and squeezes. “Understand? You’re my whore now.

“Yes. Yes. Yours. All yours.” You promise as he squeezes your breast and you whimper his name, “I’m yours baby.” You vow as he fucks you into the mattress. Your wedding band glistens in the lamplight but you don’t pay it any mind, too focused on the man fucking you hard.

Dave grunts, knowing that he is getting close to cumming. Trying to hold back until you finish. Knowing that he needs to prove himself better than the piece of shit you’re married to. He slides his hand down to rub your clit as he pounds into you like it’s the last thing he will do.

Your nails dig into the bed sheets as he thrusts deep enough that you swear you feel him in your stomach and you are glad the staff have gone home so they don’t hear your cries of pleasure. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh! Ohhhh!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, thighs shaking and you collapse onto the sheets.

You soak him, making him groan. The squelching of his cock loud as he rocks through your orgasm and chases his own. “Fuck, fuck.” He spits out your name. “Gonna cum.”

You should tell him to pull out. To spill on your sheets or your skin. Yet the idea of him filling you up has you climaxing again, clamping down on his cock and he seems to be unable to hold back as he thrusts deep and spills inside of you, painting your walls. “Yessss.” You cry out, closing your eyes and tears push out of them as you moan into the sheets.

Dave growls as he fills you, bending over and covering your body with his while his cum paints your walls. “Fuck.” He pants, his forehead resting against your shoulder and he hisses in pleasure when your walls flutter around him. “You’re perfect.” He murmurs again.

You remain pressed into the mattress, his hot breaths against your skin make you shiver slightly and you revel in the bliss of being touched now you’ve always wanted. Especially by Dave. “God. You too. You too baby.” You murmur, not considering the consequences as you enjoy your betrayal of Edward, the birth of your freedom.

He doesn’t pull out immediately, staying buried inside you. His hand sliding back up to your breast and pinching your nipple. He chuckles when you squeal and nips your shoulder. “Shit.”

“I’ve waited a long time for you to do that.” You confess breathlessly and his chuckle vibrates against your skin. “Me too.” He admits and you turn your head to look at him. “I was convinced that Edward had you keeping me prisoner here for him.”

Dave snorts. “He might have thought that. But I was keeping an eye on you. If I was here, he was less likely to slap you around.” He murmurs softly.

You stiffen slightly at the reminder and Dave misreads and pulls out of you, not touching you as you shift to look at him. “He’s a bastard. I didn’t - my parents promised me to him when I was sixteen. We got married when I completed finishing school. He’s all I have ever known and - and he’s - I don’t think I can survive a lifetime being his wife.”

“I know.” Dave nods seriously. “He’s a bastard and his deeds are worse than you know.” He admits. “I know all his skeletons, and he’s never deserved you. Never deserved to touch you. I know I don’t deserve to touch you either, but I would never hit you.”

You sigh, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I shouldn’t trust you, but I do. You have done nothing but protect me. I know you’ve tried to talk to Eddie about him hitting me. You’ve fought my corner and I am so grateful to you for that, sweetheart.” You confess, sliding your hand down his neck until your palm rests over his heart. “Eddie can never know about this.” You say, “he will kill me.”

He’s a little insulted that you believe that he would let that happen, but he doesn’t push it. Knowing that sometimes seeing is believing. “Nothing will happen to you.” He promises vaguely, sure that you will think that means that Eddie won’t know. “You might be his wife, but you are mine.”

You can’t stop the smile on your face as he declares you as his. “Yours.” You promise, shifting onto your knees so you can lean in to kiss him. “I’m yours, baby.” You promise, “and we have at least a few days to enjoy ourselves.”

Dave smirks. “So you want me to send the staff home?” He asks, curious to see what you want. “Or just limit ourselves to the night when everyone has left?”

“Send them home. I don’t want them blabbing to Eddie about us and I definitely don’t want to miss a moment without touching you while I can.” You say, kissing his neck, “I want my fill of you.”

Chuckling, he reaches down and rubs your tit again. “So we’ll send them home and play house? The little woman gonna cook, clean and let me fuck her?” You snort but Dave knows you know how to cook. You’ve been taught to be a proper wife. “We’ll have a good week, Princess. I’ll take care of you.”

After you explain to the staff that you want a week to yourself to exercise the cooking and cleaning skills you were taught with a promise that they would still be paid, you and Dave are left alone to enjoy each other’s company. You decide to make dinner, getting the chicken from the icebox and you start chopping vegetables to show Dave what a good wife you could be if only Eddie hadn’t trapped you in this gilded cage.

Dave grunts and he walks into the kitchen, finding you in your bare feet and a house dress that he knows you aren’t wearing anything under. Even if it’s not traditionally lingerie, it’s sexy. To see you so relaxed. His cock twitches and he has found himself addicted to you. Fucking you all over the house, but he hasn’t taken you in the kitchen yet. He smirks to himself as he comes behind you and grabs your hips to press you against the cabinets. “Never figured a shapeless house dress would be so appealing.” He groans in your ear. “But I know all you have under it is your wet cunt, still slick from my spit.” He had taught you that a real man eats a cunt and you had begged him for it every morning so far.

You whimper as he kisses along your neck, “fuck. I- I love it. Wanted - wanted you to be able to touch me whenever you want.” You confess as you set the knife down on the counter and turn your head so you can press your lips to his.

Dave has touched you whenever he wanted. Done what he’s wanted with your body and you’ve loved it. Screamed his name every time when you’ve cum and confessed you’ve never cum so much in a week. His tongue slides into your mouth insistently and he presses his hard cock against your ass. Grinding against you as he kisses you and only when you’re breathless does he pull back. “Can you keep making dinner while I fuck you?” He asks, smirking as he slides the material up and sinks his hand between your thighs. “Keep cutting your vegetables while my cock is buried in your little cunt?”

You pant as he rubs your clit and you close your eyes for a second until he withdraws his hand and you whine. "Keep cutting." He demands and you pick up the knife with a shaky hand, moving extra slow to not cut yourself as he rubs your clit while his lips press against the nape of your neck.

“That’s it, Princess.” He praises roughly, loving how you will do anything and everything he asks of you. His fingers work your clit and he pulls his other hand back to work the belt of his trousers open. Foregoing suspenders today. “Gonna feel so good. Might want to eat with you on my cock.”

You pant as he touches you until he’s withdrawing his hand and you whine, annoyed until he lifts your dress higher and kicks your ankles apart, gripping his cock until he positions himself at your entrance. You gasp, nearly dropping the knife as he pushes into you. “Oh shit. Dave.” You moan at the sudden way he enters you.

“Oh shit is right.” Dave grits out. “You’re so tight, Princess. Your greedy little cunt just squeezes my cock tight.” He praises. “So fucking good. Keep chopping.” He orders, drawing his hips back and filling you again, just as quickly. Groaning your name as he sets a steady, even pace.

You cling to the knife, closing your eyes as he rocks into you, and you whimper, loving how it feels to have him inside of you like those. “Fuck Dave.” You whine and he growls, “keep cutting.” You obey, shifting to continue cutting the vegetables, and nearly chop off the tip of your finger as he hits something incredible inside of you.

Dave hisses, closing his eyes as he thrusts into you again and again. He’s already filled you up so many times, he’s sure you’re pregnant. You would have to be, but he doesn’t care. He wants you to be. Just to show the world you are his. “So fucking good, Princess. You gonna cum?”

You groan as he rocks into you, “fuck baby. I- Dave. Oh shit.” You choke, the knife clattering to the counter as he works you closer to your orgasm. “Yes - yea -yes. I’m gonna - oh God!” You squeal, lifting onto your tiptoes as he pushes you higher on the counter and he makes you cum hard.

He loves it. Loves how tight you get and how hard you cum. Soaking his length and squeezing it so damn tight he can barely move as you flutter around him. “Perfect.” He groans and rocks you through it before you relax and he can get his own.

You clench your fists as he tries to move inside of you. “Cum for me, Dave. Need - need to feel it. Please.” You beg, turning back to look at him over your shoulder. “Cum for me, my love.” You order, needing to feel him paint your walls for the umpteenth time.

Dave growls your name, feeling incredibly possessive as he fucks into your frantically. Needing to claim you, mark you as his own again and his hips bang you into the counter as he chases his orgasm. Thrusting deep and stiffening as he pumps you full of his seed with a groan of pleasure.

You moan as you watch him, panting as he thrusts slowly to ride out his orgasm and you love how good it feels to have him touch you like this. Your time is coming to an end. Eddie will be returning in the morning and you know you’ll be aching for Dave when he has to retreat from your bed.

Dave pants, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he catches his breath. “Fuck.” He moans softly, chuckling. “It keeps getting better.” He muses, pulling out of you gently to tuck himself away.

You nod, feeling his cum start to drip as he pulls out of you but you don’t care as you grab the knife and resume cutting up the vegetables. “Dinner won’t be too long.” You tell him as he adjusts his suspenders and lowers your house dress. You desperately wish Eddie wasn’t coming back. That you could stay in this domestic bliss with Dave forever. That’s not going to happen though. Especially when you don’t notice the front door being opened.

“I’m home!” Eddie calls out, making Dave stiffen slightly. “Where the fuck is everyone?”  He shouts. Dave doesn’t look at you, just disappears through the doorway to go greet your husband. “Your wife was bored so I sent the staff home.” He greets Eddie with a smirk that is completely for show. “Let her cook and clean.”

Your back stiffens as you hear Eddie shout out and you hiss as you catch your finger with the knife, blood starting to drip from your skin. You set the knife down just as Eddie walks into the kitchen, Dave’s cum slick on your inner thighs. “Hello darling.” He greets you and comes over to press a kiss to your lips. “Look at you, acting like a domestic goddess.” He mocks you as he grabs your wrist, “can’t even cut some vegetables up.” He scoffs, “I’ll call the staff back right away. I want things done properly around here.” He says as he lets go of your wrist, blood trickling down your finger.

Dave can tell you are upset and he catches Eddie’s attention. “Come let me tell you how everything’s been going.” He tells him. “Have a drink and you can relax. I know you are tired from work.”

You watch the men leave, your eyes burning into Dave’s back as he walks out of the kitchen and tears sting in your eyes. Was this all a game to him? To seduce you and leave you in this terrible marriage. Tears stream down your cheeks and mix with the water as you wash your hand and bandages your finger up, finishing up the vegetables and putting the chicken in to cook while you bathe to wash Dave’s cum from your thighs.

Dave forces a smile on his face while he listens to Eddie boast about the little whore he had been fucking all week. Lying about his prowess when he knows the other man does a shit job with fucking. “Decided I needed to come home and finally get my useless wife pregnant.” He huffs. “Although if she doesn’t give me a son soon, I’m going to leave her.” Dave pretends to look understanding but he wants to choke the man. “I don’t think that you’re gonna be able to right now.” He tells him. “She’s been complaining about womanly things.” He confides.

****

Dinner is served in the dining room, Eddie and Dave seated at one end of the table, you at the other. You had changed into an evening dress and laid out the dinner for you and the men. “Needs more seasoning. It’s a bit overcooked.” Eddie tells Dave who doesn’t glance over at you. You miss those dark brown eyes already. You reach for your glass of wine, downing it, and you don’t know how long you can suffer being prisoner in this house with Eddie.

Dave hums and cleans his plate, eating every bite of the delicious food. Everything was perfect, your husband just enjoys finding faults with you. Dave knows he’s never loved you, never really wanted more than your connections, your name attached to his. “I’m going to stay tonight.” Dave tells him. “My housekeeper has the week off since you were supposed to be back tomorrow.”

“Of course. Stay. You might want to take one of the rooms on the other side of the house.” Eddie whispers and you don’t hear as you stand up, “I’m going to clean up and retreat to my quarters. Dessert is on the counter if you wish to have it.” You tell the men after they stand up and Dave looks at you for the first time since Edward returned. “Goodnight Eddie. Goodnight David.” You say and take your plate to the kitchen to wash it up. You feel a little sick at the fact that the week with Dave will always be in your mind, a taste of what freedom could feel like.

Dave frowns slightly, unhappy that the idiot had ignored his lie that you were experiencing your monthly bleeding. Instead of pressing it, which would seem strange, he just grunts. He has no intention of sleeping anywhere but your bed.

****

You are in your nightgown, ready for bed, when there’s a knock at your door. You grin, thinking it’s Dave and you rush over to the door, flinging it open and your stomach drops when it’s Edward standing there, glass of whiskey in hand. “To what do I owe this honor?” You ask, unable to withhold an attitude - something you’ve picked up from Dave over the week. Eddie steps into your room, shutting the door behind him and you swallow harshly. “I want to fuck my wife after I’ve been gone all week.” He declares and you shake your head, “I am having my monthly bleed. You can’t - you don’t like it.” You remind him of his disgust for your natural cycle - a reminder of your failures as his wife, you suppose. “I don’t give a fuck about that. Need to get you pregnant.” He grunts and steps closer, “lay down. I won’t be long.” He promises, working on removing his suspenders. You know it would be suspicious to argue, to refuse him. You want to scream at him that no one is allowed inside of you except Dave. Only if you said that, you and Dave would be on the line. You could run away, you could push him back, but you won’t. You need to do this and you willingly do it to protect yourself. You shift to lay down on your sheets, staring up at the ceiling as Eddie shoves your nightgown up. There’s no arousal, there’s no pleasure. You wince as he pushes inside of you, closing your eyes as you imagine Dave, the way he looks when he first thrusts into your cunt. The awestruck look in those gorgeous eyes as he ensures you always climax before he does. The look of concentration as he adjusts his thrusts according to your moans. It makes you wet enough to accommodate your husband as he ruts into you. A tear escapes and rolls down your cheek but Edward doesn’t notice. His fingers dig into your flesh and you clench around him, trying to spur him on to finish faster. Eddie grunts several more times before he lets out a low moan, his hot seed coating your walls and you keep your eyes shut, trying to imagine it’s Dave filling you up. He lowers your legs and tucks his cock away. “Keep lying down. Need you to give a son, goddamn it, woman.” He growls and you nod, staring up at the ceiling as he exits your bedroom without another word. You quickly sit up, making your way into your en-suite to wash his cum out of you, scrubbing your skin clean until it burns and finally, you collapse back in your bed and curl into a ball, praying he didn’t get you pregnant, that you aren’t trapped here forever.

Dave scowls from the shadow of the alcove beyond your room as Eddie walks past him. Imagining dragging him back and beating him to death in front of you. Instead, he says nothing, waiting another few minutes to make sure the bastard doesn't decide to come back for another round before he moves from his spot. Silently approaching your door and slipping inside, locking it behind him to keep everyone out. The sight of you curled up on your bed breaks his head and Dave moves over to you quickly.

When Dave curls around you, his strong arms dragging you back into his chest, you break down. Turning, you sob into his chest at the fact that you could never be with him. Eddie won’t let you know. He’d rather kill you than let you divorce him, and now, he’s going to get you pregnant so you can’t leave him. Dave rubs your back, holding you close and kissing your hair until you fall asleep, tear stained face relaxing as you let the man you love hold you.

Dave holds you all night. He doesn’t move, doesn’t shift you away from him. Even if his clothes are not as comfortable as stripping down, he doesn’t let you go. Knowing you need the comfort he can bring you, and he enjoys that you find comfort in him. Never experiencing that until you. He doesn’t even sleep, just continues to rub your back when you shift and murmurs soft words to ease you back to sleep.

****

It’s been a month since the night Edward came into your room and you stare at the calendar on your vanity. Counting down the days until your next bleed and you’re overdue. “Shit.” You hiss, unsure of how to feel. If you are pregnant, you’re almost certain it’s Dave’s. Edward has fucked you in the past three years and your cycle has always been exactly on time. You bite your lip, unsure of what to tell your husband or Dave and when your housekeeper comes in, you request that she has the butler send for the doctor. You need to know for certain if you are with child. After that…you’ll figure it out. While you wait for the doctor, you feel ill and end up lying down on your bed, thinking of Dave. He has to return home more often than not to keep up appearances but when he stays in the house, he stays in your bed. His hand over your mouth to smother your moans as he takes you in the middle of the night while Eddie sleeps. In the daytime, he keeps his distance, barely speaking to you in front of Edward and you miss the days he’d sit and talk to you for hours about everything and nothing.

Dave has his ear to the ground in every corner of the house. Keeping an eye on what Eddie is doing and how you are being treated. There’s been no abuse since he’s been back, although he’s fucked you a few more times. Each time, Dave has come into your room when he leaves, comforting you and holding you while you cry. While he silently continues to get ready for his departure from Eddie’s employment. When the housekeeper rushes to call the doctor, Dave frowns slightly, wondering if you’ve caught something and makes his way to your room.

You wipe your eyes as the door to your room opens and you look in the mirror of your vanity to find Dave standing there. “Is everything okay?” He asks and you shake your head, lower lip trembling. “I- I - I am late. To bleed. I think I’m with child.” You confess, standing up on shaky legs to wrap your arms around Dave, needing his comfort.

Dave’s eyes widen and he immediately looks down to your stomach even as he folds you into his arms. “It is okay.” He promises you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “If you are pregnant, then you are pregnant. I knew it could happen. I will not be upset.”

You sniff, shaking your head, and you cup his cheek. “What if…what if it’s Edward’s? It’s - there’s a chance. I can’t - I’d be trapped here forever.” You choke, starting to panic.

“I doubt it’s Edward’s.” Dave comforts you quietly, holding you tightly and shaking his head. “If it is Edward’s child by some small chance, it makes no difference with my plans. You will not be stuck with him.”

You frown at his words, wondering what he has planned but before you can ask, there’s a knock at the door. You pull back from Dave just as your maid enters to announce the doctor’s arrival. You glance at Dave, anxious for your examination. The doctor orders for you to lay down on the bed, and you wish Dave could come over and hold your hand. “You are dismissed, Mr. York.” Your maid tells Dave, her eyes suspicious as she wonders why Dave was in your room. Dave nods, his eyes meeting yours for a second until he exits the room. You want to demand he stays but that would be strange to the staff. The doctor takes your blood and you wince as his hands push your dress up. Pressing his hand to your stomach, he hums and pushes two fingers into you, making you grimace. “We need a urine sample as well.” He declares and you get off of the bed after he shifts away from you. Peeing into the small cup, you pray that if you are pregnant, the baby is Dave’s. At least you’ll have some part of him when your affair has to end because of Edward. You come out to find the doctor examining the samples with the heavy equipment he had brought up and he’s there for a while until he says “you’re pregnant, Mrs. Holt.” You nod, absorbing the news, unsure of if you should be happy or not.

“Your husband will be most pleased.” He’s aware that Edward wants a son and he is pulling out some pills for you to take. “To help with the nausea to come and settle your nerves.” He explains. “You are not too far along so if you experience heavy spotting, please call.”

Your maid takes the pills and nods, “we will call if there is anything amiss.” She promises and you nod, a little dumbstruck by the news. You’ve done everything you could to avoid getting pregnant by Edward. You pray the baby is Dave’s. Even if you’re stuck with Edward, at least you’ll have a part of the man you love and the happy memories. Your hand slides down to your stomach and the doctor soon leaves. “Congratulations, ma’am.” She smiles at you. You offer her a weak smile back. “Shall I bring you something to eat?” She asks and you nod, “yes please.” She exits your bedroom, leaving you to absorb the news. Second after she leaves, your door opens and Dave slides into your bedroom. “What did he say?” He asks, anxious as you were, and you look at him, “he confirmed it. I’m pregnant.”

Dave nods seriously, trying to gauge your feelings as he steps closer to you. “Pregnant.” He murmurs softly. “So I guess I can’t fuck you?” He asks and you shake your head. “Sex is still allowed, but Dave…” he cuts you off and lunges forward to press his lips to yours harshly. Wanting to remind you that no matter what, you are his.

You moan into his mouth, your fingers gripping his suspenders to pull him closer so you can press your entire body against him. You belong to him, your heart belongs to him. His ring isn’t on your fingers and you’re not sure if it’s his child inside of you, but the rest of you is entirely his. “I love you.” You murmur breathlessly as he pulls back to work on removing your clothes, exposing the stomach that hasn’t just rounded with the baby inside of you. Potentially his baby.

Dave groans as he caresses your stomach and leans down. “You know how I feel.” He tells you before biting your nipple through the fabric of your bra. He doesn’t have too long before the maid returns but he wants to make you feel good. “Unzip my pants, Princess.”

You do know how he feels in the way he touches you, the nights he spends wrapped around you. It’s a tragic tale. A story of two people that love each other but can never be. All you have for now is his touch. You won’t waste a second. You fumble to unzip his pants and you reach in to pull his half hard cock out of his briefs. You hook your fingers in your panties, pushing them down your legs but keeping your stockings and garter belt on as you grab his tie and guide him back towards your bed. “Fuck me, David.” You order, wanting to lose yourself in his touch while you can.

He chuckles at your impatience, though he feels the same way. Following you onto the bed and he wishes he had time to lay you out, to feast on you. To make you limp from pleasure before he ever slides inside you. “We’re gonna have a baby.” He murmurs, reminding you that he’s with you, even if the baby is not his.

You watch him spit in his hand and pump his cock a few times to get harder and you shift to lay on the bed, your head against your pillows as he shifts to hover over you, his hand trailing along your inner thigh. He pushes you open to accommodate his body between your legs and he guides his cock to your cunt, slowly pushing in and you moan at the look on his face as he claims you as his.

Dave groans your name. Reaching down to pull you up to his lips as he starts to move. Loving how you are so sensitive to him. Clenching down his cock and whimpering his name.

Your hands slide along his arms, caressing the hair at the nape of his neck before you loop your arms around his neck, dragging him down on top of you, wanting to feel the weight of him. He shifts to his elbows, keeping his weight off of your stomach and you moan when he kisses along your neck. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart.” He reminds you and you nod, biting your lip as he moves inside of you.

Dave rocks into you again and again. Watching you as he does to make sure he doesn’t hurt you by accident. Even as rough as he has been on his harshest with you, he wants you to enjoy yourself. Doesn’t want to hurt the baby.

Your nails dig into the back of his neck as he pushes you closer to your orgasm, falling over the edge when his fingers find your clit, and you whimper his name, trying to keep quiet. 

“Dave!” You choke, clamping down on his cock.

****

“Oh God, Dave!” You moan, your hand finding his as he moves inside of you. It’s the middle of the night and Dave snuck into your room to see you. His body curls around yours as he rocks into you from behind, his fingers rubbing your clit to work you through your orgasm until his hand slides up to your bump. You’re due any day now. Secretly terrified that the baby is Edward’s. Your husband is over the moon, telling everyone his son will be here any day now, and you want to scream at him that it could be Dave’s child. It might not be a boy either. Edward has been strangely affectionate towards you, no longer hitting you or belittling you. He has been disappearing to his whores still but he hasn’t been cruel to you during your pregnancy. Dave has been here, decided to move in after Edward insisted he move in to protect you during his extended “business trips.” Obviously, you and Dave loved the idea and for the past nine months, you and Dave have continued your affair under the nose of your husband. “Cum for me.” You murmur, turning your head to nudge your nose against Dave’s jaw as it clenches with his imminent orgasm.

“I love you.” Dave groans out, knowing how much you love hearing that. You’ve grown more beautiful as the months have gone by and he has enjoyed seeing you swell with his child. He knows it’s his child, he feels it. The baby inside you responding to his voice, his presence. He takes such satisfaction from the fact that you have been safe here and Dave hasn’t wanted to move forward with his plans just yet because of your pregnancy. So he has been taking care of you this entire time while waiting for the perfect place

He pushes deep into you and groans into your neck as he cums, painting your walls with his seed and you sigh in bliss. The baby moves beneath Dave's hand as he caresses your bump. "I love you." You whisper, silently praying that the baby is Dave's. You turn your head to kiss the man you love, nudging your nose against his as he relaxes behind you. "Not long now." He murmurs and you nod, "baby is coming any day now." You feel apprehensive, scared for the pains of childbirth and terrified to find out who the father is once and for all.

Dave doesn’t pull out of you, staying buried inside you as you sigh again. “Don’t worry.” He murmurs, rubbing your stomach gently. “I just wish I could be with you.” Even if he was your husband, he wouldn’t be allowed to be in the room while you are giving birth, and he hates it.

You feel yourself tear up at the fact that he won't be in the room with you. You place your hand over his, "I wish you could too." You murmur, closing your eyes as he remains inside of you, surrounding you. 

****

Your scream echoes through the house, your forehead soaked with sweat as you bear down once again. "That's it, Mrs. Holt. Keep pushing." The midwife orders and you shake your head as you grip the sheets. "I- I can't." You choke, "so tired." You murmur and your maid slaps you awake. "You can." She demands and you start to sob, "please. I need Dave." You beg, lost in the haze of your pain. "You need to push." Daisy, your maid demands, and you scream through gritted teeth, pushing as hard as you can on the next contraction until finally, the pressure releases and you gasp in a breath as the pain immediately recedes. A cry fills the air seconds later and it's a blur as the midwife wraps the baby up and carries it to you to place it on your bare chest. "It's a boy." She declares and you look down at the baby in your arms. Your eyes scan his features as he wails in your arms, and you start to sob again.

Dave doesn’t even act like he wasn’t listening to every scream, every cry. Sitting by himself outside the door. Edward had disappeared to go be with his lover as soon as you had started moaning in pain. Telling Dave to send word once his son had been born. At least he hadn’t had to pretend that he didn’t care. He hadn’t demanded to be in the room, but he hadn’t left. Looking up from the drink in his hand every time the door opened. Now, with the cry of a baby, he leaps to his feet and pushes into the room as he calls out your name.

You look up with tears streaming down your cheeks as Dave barges into the room, ignoring the cries of protest from the other women, and he immediately comes to your side, kissing your forehead. "Are you okay?" He asks, wanting to make sure you aren't suffering from more than childbirth itself. "I-" You can't speak as you adjust the baby at your breast so Dave can see his face. He looks just like his father. Dave's signature nose and there's no denying who his father is. He doesn't look like Edward at all. "Your son." You mouth, eyes crinkling with happiness as you cradle the baby.

“My son.” Dave murmurs in awe, caressing your cheek and staring down at the babe in your arms. He doesn’t give a damn if they know now that you have been unfaithful to Edward. All that matters is that you and the baby are safe. “Our son, Princess. You have done such a good job.” He kisses your forehead and leans in to kiss the baby. “I love you.” He whispers softly as the baby quiets down when he hears his voice. He had talked to your stomach a lot during the late night hours when he couldn’t sleep.

Daisy isn't dumb. She knows about you and Dave but she has kept it to herself. Edward has treated you horribly during your marriage and she has never seen you so happy when David is around. Your secret is safe with her. You want to kiss him but the midwife is pushing down on your stomach for the afterbirth and you are exhausted. Once the placenta has been accounted for, the midwife carries the baby off to bathe him and weigh him, and Daisy helps you clean up and changes the sheets to let you rest in the bed. Dave remains in the room the entire time, and eventually, the midwife is letting you rest and placing the baby in the bassinet. No one says a word as they exit the room and leave Dave watching over his family. The silence only lasts a few minutes until the baby starts to cry and Dave walks over to the bassinet, quickly scooping his son into his arms. He walks over to the window, looking at his son before he looks up at the stars. "You are destined for incredible things, my boy. You will be the best of me and your mother." He promises, leaning in to kiss the baby's forehead as he settles down in his arms. Dave stands there for a while watching the baby sleep until the door flings open. "Dave, you did not send word! The butler sent a car for me. Let me see him." Edward rushes over to Dave and you are woken up by the noise and your sleepy eyes widen as Dave holds the baby.

“It’s a boy? The driver told me it was a boy.” In his excitement, he doesn’t question why Dave is holding his son and is shocked when your lover pulls back so Edward can’t touch him. “You will not touch my son.” Dave growls, finally allowing his hatred for Edward to shine through his eyes as he looks at the other man in disgust. “That’s right, he’s mine. Your wife is mine. I got her pregnant. I filled her with my seed and satisfied her in ways you could never imagine.” Dave chuckles at the shocked look on Eddie’s face as the maid rushes over to take his son from his arms. “You are through, Edward. I’ve managed to take all your business partners. They will be ending their dealings with you. While you were off fucking your whores, I was replacing you. In business and in your life.” He smirks. “Your wife is in love with me and I’m going to marry her. Give our son my last name and raise him.”

Edward’s eyes widen and he looks over at you, waiting for a denial but you don’t say a word. He knows it’s true. The man he’s trusted most in the world with everything has pulled the rug out from under him. “You motherfucker.” Eddie growls, advancing on Dave and Daisy holds the baby, backing up against the wall. Dave easily dodges the hit and raises his arm to punch your husband in the jaw. “I don’t want to fight you. Just want you to let us walk away.” Dave says as Eddie bows over in pain. “No. No. You can’t take her. She’s mine. She’s my fucking wife. Her family money. It’s mine.” He growls as surges forward to hit Dave again.

Dave blocks the clumsy attempt and his next punch knocks Edward down onto the carpeted floor. Making him groan in pain and Dave points at him. “I’ve killed men, Ed, don’t make me kill you.” He growls, not wanting you to be more upset than you already are. Daisy rushes towards the bed and gives you the baby after you start crying. “Stay down.” He warns, but Edward is too crazed by anger. “You bastard!” He hisses as he struggles to his feet. “You were nothing but a thug when I met you. I made you and you betrayed me?” He lunges forward again and Dave strikes first, punching him in the gut and then giving him another uppercut that damn near knocks the man out as he drops to the ground. “It’s done.” Dave spits.

You shake your head, “please Eddie. Just walk away.” You beg, cradling the baby who is crying at the noise, and Eddie sees you sitting there with a child that is not his and he sees red. “You fucking bitch. You’re a goddamn whore! I should kill you and that bastard in your arms.” He growls and surges forward towards you but Dave grabs him, swinging him around and Edward hisses, grabbing the knife from his belt. Dave spots it immediately and grabs Edward’s arm, twisting it and he doesn’t think. He just acts as he shoves Edward towards the window. The glass breaks as Edward flies out of the third floor window, glass shatters on the floor and Dave watches as the man he considered a friend many years ago plunges to his death. You scream, the baby crying in your arms and you watch Dave inhale deeply, chest heaving as Edward is flung out of the window.

Dave looks down at the broken and bloody body for a second before he looks back at Daisy, his eyes dark. “I- he attacked you.” Daisy stutters, terrified of what she’s just witnessed. “He went crazy and you couldn’t reason with him, Mr. York.” She knows that is the truth, but if the police know that you and Dave had cuckolded Edward, they would arrest him for murder.

You’re shaking as you try to calm the baby, trying to soothe him as your heart pounds. Edward is dead. “Da-Dave.” You stammer, needing reassurance from him, to know he’s okay. You saw the knife and you were terrified that Dave was going to be killed.

His gaze slides from Daisy to you and he softens immediately, rushing over to you and crushing you and the baby to his chest. “It’s okay, it’s over.” He promises you. “He’ll never hurt you again, he’ll never touch our son.” He kisses your forehead several times and then presses his lips to yours before kissing the baby. “It’s okay.” He croons gently. He’s a harsh man, but he would never hurt those he loves and you and his son are at the top of that list. “It’s okay, baby boy. You’re safe, you’re safe with mama and papa.”

You sob as he curls around you, protecting you from everything outside of this room, even your now deceased husband. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing him softly and you cradle the baby. “Please don’t leave me.” You beg, needing him here, needing him to be here with you and the baby. “We need to name our son.” You tell Dave, pulling back to look at him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dave promises. “What do you want to name him, baby?” He asks softly. Soon the police will be here but he wants to pick out a name first. “We can wait until we are married.” He offers. “Give him my last name officially.”

You nod, “yes. I want him to have your last name. I want to call him Samuel. After your father.” You tell Dave softly. He had told you about his family and you reach up to caress his cheek. “No matter what happens. I love you. I am yours, David York.”

“I love you too.” He promises softly, pressing his lips against yours once more. He had fallen in love with you and tried to stay away. Unable to resist the temptation of you and now he has you, a beautiful son and you will never have to worry about him lifting a hand to you. He will kill for you and his son, he’s already proven that.

****

You remove your earrings, looking at Dave in the mirror of your vanity as he works on taking off his tie and cufflinks. “Last one married off.” He chuckles, setting down the cufflinks on the side. “Five children. Five weddings. Makes me think of ours. The little courthouse wedding we had after the police let you out of questioning and Edward was buried.” You haven’t thought of your ex husband for many years. You and Dave had to wait until Edward was buried before you could be married then your first son was officially a York and so were you. Edward’s estate became yours as his widow and you decided to sell the estate and find somewhere new with David. “I’ve been thinking about that.” Dave hums as he walks over to you and reaches into his pocket. He kneels down and your eyes widen, “baby?” You gasp when he opens a velvet box to display a beautiful diamond ring. “Marry me again. Renew our vows. I want us to have the wedding we should’ve had.” He declares and you sniff, tears gathering in your eyes. “Yes. Always yes.” You promise, leaning in to press your lips to his after you cup his cheeks. “I love you, Dave.” You murmur and he nudges his nose against yours, sliding the ring onto your finger next to the simple gold band he got you for your wedding. “I love you too, Princess.” He promises, “I’d do anything for you.” He murmurs softly and you smile, “even kill.” You remind him and he chuckles, “even kill.” He says and helps you stand up, wanting to remind you how much he loves you. You never imagined that you’d be rescued from a loveless, abusive marriage but Dave was your knight in shining armor.

[idksmtms]

You Are Not One Of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 2

Full Request

Part 1<<PART2>>>Part 3

AN: You know shit’s serious when you have to hand-write the outline for a fic in a notebook… My hands actually hurt from how furiously I typed this. I hope you enjoy it because what was the pain for??? 

Summary: The god of the sea and the goddess of love and war are falling in love, but betrayal is afoot. 

Word count: 9,713 - holy shit this is sm longer than I planned 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, p in v s*x, fingering, noncon voyeurism, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You followed Hermes around the entire flower display, oohing and aahing at the different little flowers that you wouldn’t have even noticed had he not pointed them out to you. You could feel the eyes on you again, a weight on the back of your neck but you ignored them until you had made a full turn of the flower display. You glanced in the direction of his throne, the way he sat with his right ankle over his left knee, spread wide and domineering, leaning back as if he was the picture of ‘unbothered’. But his eyes continued to follow you, and as you looked at his face, you met his gaze and time himself must have stopped the world for both of you. 

You felt like you had never taken a breath before this moment, as if this was the first time you had felt what it was like to truly feel air enter your lungs. It wasn’t just his eyes itself that did it, though the dark blue was the most beautiful colour you had ever witnessed (and knew you would ever witness). It was the way he looked at you, as if he, a god, couldn’t quite believe you existed. It made everything inside you seize up, as if each muscle had been tightened then locked and the key was to… you didn’t know what exactly. Have him hold you? Have him… have him kiss you? Gosh you had never desired a kiss so much in your life thus far. 

You slipped your arm from Hermes’ while he spoke to someone else that had come to join both of you and walked off almost in a trance. You knew exactly where you were headed though, and with careful steps made your way to stand directly in front of the god of the sea. His face did not change, but his eyes did not leave you. He looked up at you from his seat, waiting for you to speak first. 

You had once found it so easy to smile, so easy to speak and chat and spread joy with your mere presence. Standing in front of him now, you seemed to have forgotten everything you were once able to do. How does one smile? How does one speak? How does one even breathe anymore? Then, slowly, you forced yourself to gain a hold of your own mind, to banish these ludicrous thoughts to its very depths, and allowed your face to relax, the corners of your lips turning up and your eyes squinting just so. You folded your hands in front of you and bowed your head a tad in greeting. 

“Hello, I hope watching me all evening has been entertaining,” your smile turned cheeky and Poseidon raised an eyebrow as he noted the sparkle in your eye. Then he smiled, rather gently for such an imposing man, and dipped his head in a nod. 

“Forgive me, if I have made you uncomfortable.” 

“Oh not at all, who doesn’t enjoy being the centre of attention for a handsome god?” You replied, shrugging your shoulders and grinning at him. Poseidon’s brow raised again, but this time his lips quirked up in a smirk of his own. He shifted in his seat, sitting up just a tad bit straighter. 

“A handsome god? Hm, I might prefer that title more than god of the seas,” he joked, and a giggle fell from your lips before you could stop it. His smile widened at the sound, at the way it seemed to sort of fall with your breaths. “And it has been, entertaining I mean, you are rather… interesting.” You pouted jokingly at his words, stepping closer to his throne so your dress brushed his knees. 

“Just interesting? After I called you handsome?” You teased, and now it was Poseidon’s turn to chuckle, a deep sound that seemed to rumble out of his chest and made your stomach feel warm. 

“I think my true thoughts about you may not be appropriate for a first meeting,” he finally said, voice deep and more hushed than before. He looked up at you through his lashes and your entire body felt like it was sizzling. Every cell was suddenly vibrating and you thought you might pop out of existence. 

“Why would they not be appropriate?” You whispered, leaning forward even more, as if you couldn’t help but want to be closer to him. One side of his mouth pulled up in a smile and he sighed, as if it was tiring to even think of the reason. 

“I would like you to come back to Olympus, who knows how you would feel about what I am thinking.” You shivered, at the way his voice seemed to vibrate down your spine, at the darkness that began to cloud his eyes, at the desperate and sudden need to clamber onto his lap and press your lips to his that now filled your body. 

“I can guarantee you,” you began, licking your lips and leaning forward until both hands were on the armrests of his throne. “That whatever you say will have me running back even quicker.” 

Poseidon swallowed, lips parting as he sucked in a breath. Your faces were so close now, noses almost touching, and he could feel the warmth of your skin gently touch his cheeks. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Now that you were so close, you could see the smallest flecks of gold interspersed in the dark blue of his irises, could see the grey beginning to touch the hairs on his temples. Your mouth opened, as if you were going to say more, as if you were going to kiss him- 

“Little goddess!” Loki called, and you popped up quickly, turning away in a whirl of fabric. 

You walked off to where his voice had sounded from as he beckoned you to come chat with him and Hermes once more. Poseidon watched you skip away, as if you hadn’t just been a hair’s breadth from his face. He stared at the fluttering fabric following behind you, at the glimpse of your smooth leg and the blue hair that billowed around your head, and he let out a deep breath. He looked away from the direction you had gone, only to meet eyes with Hestia and Hephaestus in the corner, smirking so teasingly that he felt his entire body begin to burn. 

You were luckier than he, for Loki and Hermes had not noticed the way you had almost fallen victim to your own innate desires and whims. Your cheeks were flushed and you pressed a cold hand to each, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before smiling up at the two. They began speaking at you about something or other and you glanced back from the direction you had come. You met eyes with Poseidon and snapped your gaze away, cheeks starting to burn once more. 

After a performance by a few of the muses, gorging yourselves on ambrosia and the polishing off of many jugs of wine, Odin decided it was time for everyone to return to Asgard. He offered an invitation in return to Zeus and the Greek gods, that they would be welcomed to Valhalla if they ever decided to visit Asgard, and while they offered words of praise and assent and reassurance, everyone knew there would be no reciprocal visit. 

You danced the rest of the night away after your moment with the sea god, switching between the arms of Hermes, Loki, Thor and even Baldr. Poseidon had mingled with some of his nieces and nephews, but had largely remained on his throne from where he could watch you best. You were a vision, a whirl of colour, and watching you dance and laugh and just be merry seemed to soothe something in his heart. He wanted to provide it for you for the rest of eternity. 

“I hope to see you again soon,” you told Hermes as you all gathered near the bridge to say your goodbyes. “I had a wonderful time.” 

“Yes, we must meet again, perhaps you could return to Olympus for another performance of the muses?” Hermes sounded so hopeful, and you smiled and nodded jovially, excited to see another beautiful piece. It was rather unfortunate that you had such different ideas of how it would go in your heads, such different ideas of each other, in your heads. 

You waved him goodbye and began to turn away before someone cleared their throat next to you. You turned your head to see who it was, though you already had a feeling you knew. His presence could not be missed, even if one didn’t lay eyes on him. You could feel it hovering over your shoulder, the power of the seas gently brushing against your elbow as you turned to look at him. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Y/n,” his voice was quiet and you had to clench your hands together to stop your entire body from shaking like you were in a hurricane. 

“Likewise,” you answered breathily. If you even tried to continue speaking you were sure your voice would crack and you would spill words that hadn’t even been in your mind before they started coming out of your mouth. 

“I would like to offer you an invitation,” he began, looking straight into your eyes. If you didn’t know any better you might think he was actually nervous to ask this of you. Poseidon knew that if he didn’t face you head on, didn’t force it out of himself, he may never gather the courage to ask you. “A visit to one of my favoured spots on Earth, a beach that is-” 

“Yes. I would love to.” Your cheeks turned pink as you realised you hadn’t waited for him to finish his sentence but he only smiled, eyes twinkling and creased, lips thinned out. You bowed your head to try and hide your face but he just chuckled and ran a finger down your arm. As if you weren’t already filled with a fire that couldn’t be put out… You gulped, pressing your thighs together for a moment before whispering a garbled goodbye and walking away. Poseidon clenched his hand into a fist at his side. 

You had taken to strolling along the cliffs of the fjords now that you had returned from Olympus. The sound of the water far below reminded you of Poseidon, the crashing of the waves against stone on a particularly stormy day helped you think of his face, his voice. You didn’t know when he would finally set a date for the invitation, how he would get you to this favoured beach. Your anticipation was beginning to claw at you from the inside, like talons digging into the lining of your stomach when you thought of each day that had passed with no word from him. You hoped that he would find you here, so close to the sea, and you hoped he would do it quickly. It had been a week now, and you were slowly starting to lose hope. 

You walked to the very edge of the cliff and stared straight down into the water. It was almost black, capped with pure white foam as it swished against the rocky cliffs. The sound of it almost had you missing the crushing of hooves on grass behind you. You turned to find a beautiful white stallion gently trotting up to you. His coat was so pure and shiny it was almost silver. Wings sprouted from his back, beautiful and feathered that he flapped once before folding them back against his body. You stared, mouth agape, as the pegasus trotted up to you, stopping just in front of where you stood and gently snuffling his nose against your cheek. You leaned back, careful of the cliff edge, giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips against your cheek, his hot huffed breaths fanning over your face. The stallion stepped back so you could come forward and away from the sharp drop before gently stamping his two front feet into the grass, lowering his head and the wing closest to you. You stared for a moment, hoping against hope that this was finally the fruition of the invitation, but the stallion was impatient and huffed loudly, stamping his feet harder and gesturing to his own back with a shake of his head. 

“Alright, alright,” you breathed, caressing his head and mane with a soft hand before using the edge of his wing to step up and swing yourself onto his bare back. The stallion waited until you were settled before turning away from the cliff edge and trotting back a few paces. Then he turned to it once more and began galloping right for the edge, wings unfurling and flapping into the air as the breeze picked him up and sped both of you into the sky. 

The feeling of being on the back of a pegasus as you flew through the sky was one you would not forget until the end of your days. The rush of cold air as it blew your hair behind you, the feeling of his warm coat under your legs, the sound of nothing but the flap of his wings and the howling of wind in your ears. For the first few minutes you gripped his mane but eventually you leaned back and threw your arms up into the air with a scream of joy, clinging to him only with your legs so you wouldn’t fall off. 

You weren’t sure how long you flew, eventually bending at the waist and fully laying on his back so you could watch the clear sky above you pass away in an endless screen of blue. You felt him spread his wings out and slowly begin to tip downward into a descent. You began sliding forward slightly so you sat up and you caught sight of the ocean spreading out below you, as endless as the sky. The dark lines of waves rippling just below the surface dotted the entire area, some capped with foam like it had been painted on. You could see where it ended, where the water began to lap at sand and your heart seemed to flutter with the wind. As you began to drop even closer to the ground, stomach swooping with each dip lower, you noticed a solitary figure sitting at the edge of the water, just in reach of it so it lapped at the figure’s feet. Your heart began to thunder. 

Pegasus trotted onto the beach with a thud so soft you barely felt it. Sand kicked up under his hooves and you felt the grit against the skin of your feet and legs. You felt giddy, clenching your legs tighter around the stallion as you approached the figure, happy that your dress had enough fabric to still cover your legs though you rode the winged horse. He stood as you approached, brushing off his linen pants. You could see that the hems were drenched in water and it made a tingle of warmth settle in your heart. 

Poseidon smiled as Pegasus stopped just in front of him, bowing his head to the king of the seas and unfolding one of his wings so you could use it to step down. You swung your leg over, using one delicate foot on the edge of his wing to hop down in a flurry of fabric. You were barefoot already, and you instantly began spreading your toes into the warm sand, sighing at the feeling of it between your toes. He waited until the horse had trotted away to find its own entertainment before stepping closer and reaching out to hold your hand. 

He had been desperate to feel your skin, to know if your hands were soft or you had callouses on the tips of your fingers from your sword fighting. Even just the hint he had gotten from touching your arm on Olympus had been enough to drive him wild. He wanted to know the warmth of your skin like he knew his own. 

You smiled shyly, dropping your head to stare at the sand, but threaded your fingers through his, as if the thought of letting go was simply impossible. His hands were rough, but not unpleasantly so, and you thought they would feel amazing on your skin in other places. You stepped closer to him, so that if you moved any closer your bodies would be pressed together, and looked up into his eyes. He smelled like a fresh ocean breeze, like the salt of the sea and something so intoxicating that you wanted to press your nose into his neck and inhale. 

Poseidon loved the feeling of your little hand in his own, your fingers (which he discovered were soft despite your skill with a sword) fit perfectly between his own, your palm pressed right to his, your pulse points brushing together. With his other hand, he reached up and dug his fingers into your hair, moving it back so it draped over your shoulder, so he could slip his fingers through the strands and feel each one caress his hand. You closed your eyes, leaning into the feeling of his hand and sighed happily. 

“I’m glad you came,” he told you quietly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

“I’m glad you invited me,” you replied, voice hushed as you turned your head to kiss the tip of his thumb gently before tipping your head back to stare into his eyes once more. He was mesmerised, drunk on your presence, lost to you. 

You giggled then, a small girlish thing that made a smile break out on his lips and made him feel giddy. He had not felt giddy in aeons. You turned to the ocean and tugged on his hand, beginning to walk along the beach, your feet splashing in the surf. 

“Did you know that the ocean is my favourite place in all the realms?” You told him, quirking up your brow teasingly as you kicked some of the water into the air, watching the droplets sparkle in the sunlight. Poseidon just watched you, watched every movement, hoping he wouldn’t miss a single thing you did. He saw your dress ride up your leg, expose the smooth skin, and he wanted to push it up even further, to tear it off of you completely and see you bare. “Even before we met, they were my favourite. I often go swimming in the water of the fjords, it is the perfect temperature in the summer months. You should join me,” you shrugged, smirking as you walked slightly away from him, stretching your arms out so you could still hold his hand while you waded further into the water until the hem of your dress was soaked and the waves lapped halfway up your calves. 

“I would be delighted,” he breathed out in that deep voice of his that had your insides turning to mush. You wanted to feel his voice. Was that even possible? You wanted to feel it inside you, through you, to merge it into your skin. Maybe you were cursed… 

Both of you continued walking along the shoreline, occasionally wading deeper or shallower but always touching the water. You talked of home, of Valhalla and the fjords, of your brothers and parents, of Loki and his stories. You told him all you could about yourself and then some, whispering words you had never dared to admit to yourself. In return he listened, offered stories of his own realm in the sea, of the histories of the gods of his own pantheon, of Greece itself. He told you of the existential dread he had begun to feel before you had fluttered into his life, how everything had felt just bearable before you. He would speak forever if it meant you looked at him the way you did, eyes wide, lips just slightly parted, drinking in everything he had to say. 

You walked until the sun began to set and your voices began to drip away because of how much you had spoken. You stared at the darkening edges of the sky and knew you would need to return home so as not to worry Odin and Frigg. You stopped in the water, the waves lapping at your knees and your toes digging into the soft sand under the water. You turned to face him, reaching to hold his other hand as well and smiling up at him. 

“You have given me the best day I have ever experienced in a thousand years of existence,” you told him, biting your lip as you caressed the backs of his hands with your thumbs. “I hope to see you again soon.” 

“Of course,” he gripped your hands tighter, pulling you in close until your chests pressed together. He leant down so your noses brushed together and your lips parted as you sucked in a breath. 

“Are your thoughts about me still too inappropriate to tell?” You whispered, and you could feel his lips brush yours with every word. 

“Even more so,” he breathed out, his voice fanning over your lips. 

“I would gamble that mine are worse,” your voice was becoming breathy and raspy, throat suddenly dry as you gulped. 

“I would doubt that very much,” he replied, pressing his body impossibly closer. You could feel him crowding you, the way he seemed to surround you with his broad shoulders and thick arms and you shivered, stomach muscles pulsing. 

“Tell me one, the most appropriate, I suppose,” you joked, a slight glint in your eyes. 

“I could not live without you. If you were to be taken from me, I would not need the humans to die out for my existence to cease,” and as you gasped, he brought his lips to meet yours. 

You tasted sweet, like the freshest pomegranate, or the softest date in the bowl. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, kissing you like it was impossible not to continue after he had done it once. His beard rubbed against your cheeks, soft yet coarse, tickling your skin. You gasped into his mouth, reaching up to grasp the back of his neck and pull yourself up a little. His lips felt like softened butter, and you opened your mouth to allow his tongue to plunge in. You moaned, a sound you had never made before, and pressed yourself to his body like a cat to its owner's leg. He huffed against your mouth, groaning and grunting as if he couldn’t control the animal inside of him. 

You kissed again, and again, and again, until your lungs were burning, until your cheeks were rubbed raw and your thighs hurt from clenching them together. You pulled away from his lips, eyes still closed, and were hit with a wave of water up to your face. You squealed and opened your eyes, not realising that the water had begun to rush around the both of you, waves pushing and pulling the shore so harshly that foam was left behind on the sand. The skirt of your dress was soaked and heavy, hanging like a weight from your shoulders. Your feet had succumbed to the sand and it took some strength to pull them out. You stared at the god of the seas, and he had the decency to look sheepish as he dried your dress and led you back to Pegasus. All you could do was laugh and laugh until your stomach hurt. 

Ever since you had kissed the god of the seas, you had thought of nothing else. Every crevice of your mind was filled with him, the sight of him, the smell of him, the sound of him. You heard his grunts as you tried to sleep, saw his face as you tried to wash. You seemed to be a goddess of curses too, because if this was love, then it was a curse upon anyone who experienced it. How was anyone supposed to live when all they thought of was the person they loved?

But today would be better. Today would be better because Hermes had invited you to watch a theatre piece by the muses, which would mean a trip to Olympus. Which would mean seeing your beloved. You had talked Odin and Frigg’s ears off the night before about how much you had loved Olympus, how glad you were to go again, and they had smiled at you like amused parents. 

As you entered Olympus, you felt a bit nervous. You hadn’t been alone the last time, and now as you walked across the bridge and into the gardens between the palaces, you felt all the eyes on you. People stared as you walked in, looking for Hermes or even Poseidon. Wind spirits whispered, minor gods chuckled behind their hands, and you felt your cheeks begin to burn before you caught sight of your friend. 

“Hello, hello!” He called, waving as he made his way around a group of cloud spirits carrying dinner plates. You giggled and waved back, hopping the few steps to meet him. 

“Thank you for inviting me! I really enjoyed myself before,” you told him, and he smiled brightly, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. 

“I enjoyed your company, I am glad to have you back,” he told you, a pink tinge to his cheeks, but you just laughed and slapped him on the arm. 

“Where do we need to go?” You asked as you began to look around, not so secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of your sea god. 

“Just this way,” and Hermes began leading you toward the large lawn they used for performances by the muses.

You seemed to watch Olympus with such wide eyes, gasping and squealing at every little thing that was unfamiliar to you, and Hermes felt like his heart was no longer his own. He wanted to cut it out of his chest and offer it to you on a silver platter if it would make you happy. 

He led you to where seats had been set up for anyone to come and watch the muses perform. It was one of many they did, so people would most likely come and go, with a few who had more time on their hands bothering to stay the entire time. You chose seats right near the front and were settling in just as the performance began. Hermes mentioned that it had been written by Thalia and Melpomene together, so it was bound to be both funny and tragic. You nodded happily, then pressed a hand to his mouth to shush him as the muses made their way onto the stage and began to speak. You were enraptured the entire time, and by the end of the piece you had laughed and cried so many times that your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy. Your face hurt from smiling and your eyes hurt from crying but you would not have traded that time for anything. 

“So I assume that you enjoyed it?” Hermes asked hopefully. You nodded vigorously, going off on a tangent about the different pieces of dialogue and the setting and the way you had cried when Melpomene had lay down to die. 

“HERMES!” A voice boomed, and he let out such a weary sigh that you almost began to cry for him. His face had dropped and he looked at you in sorrow, shaking his head before mumbling a few curse words to himself. 

“I’m so sorry, dearest, but I must run off for a few moments. Duty calls,” and with a flap of his shoes, he was off to go find out what message his father had for him to deliver now. You stared after him for a moment before laughing quietly to yourself and turning on your heel to see if you could find your sea god up here or you would have to throw yourself into the ocean for his company. 

It seemed to be that if you thought of him, he appeared, because it was right then that your sea god appeared in your vision, walking up to you with a subdued smile on his face. You would never stop being thankful for the fact that you were the only one who got to see the smiles that took up his whole face. 

“Well hello stranger,” you singsonged, trying to suppress your smirk but your mouth still twisting just so to the side. 

“What is a norse goddess doing on Olympus?” He asked teasingly, leaning in close to you and gently running a finger down the bare skin of your arm. You shivered, shoulders shaking, and he chuckled. “I want to show you something, join me?” And you said yes without an ounce of hesitation, Hermes forgotten. 

When Hermes returned from being yelled at by his father about sending a message to some hero who was beginning to get too big for britches, he couldn’t find you. He searched around the stage area and through some of the nearby gardens to no avail. Then, just as he had finally convinced himself that you had returned to Asgard, he spotted the end of your dress disappearing in the distance. He began to call out to you but just as the sound began to come out, it died in his throat as he noticed the hand you placed on his uncle’s arm, the smile you shot up at him as both of you walked away. What could you possibly have to do with Poseidon? Hermes began to follow. 

You allowed Poseidon to lead you wherever it is he wanted to, just happy to be in his company. You chattered his ear off about the play, explaining every detail that had mesmerised you, and he just listened with a growing smile. To have you here, by his side, just speaking to him was better than he could have imagined. He understood now why the humans valued their marriages so much. He wanted all of that with you.

You crossed through a patch of trees and found cliffs facing you, rising so sharply that the only way to get up them would be to fly. Poseidon led you to a little crack in the imposing wall, covered by long hanging vines that crawled up the cliffs. It would be extremely difficult to spot the little entrance, to note the difference in those vines compared to those on the cliffs, but it was the only place where they hung off of the cliff rather than clinging onto it. He pushed through the wall of leaves and stems, holding it open for you. He held your hand as you walked through the little cave entrance and you clenched it tightly when you saw what was at the other end. 

A beautiful lake, not too large but not too small, with crystalline waters as still as a statue. It was bordered by large boulders that would be easy to clamber onto and rest on to bathe in the sun. Beyond the boulders there were trees completely surrounding it, enclosing the space. You stared into the lake’s waters, and realised you could see all the way to the bottom. There were rocks, smooth and huge like the boulders, all along the bottom. Little water plants sprouted between them and in the cracks and the little buds made you smile and laugh breathily. You turned back to your lover, staring at him with such reverence that he had to look away. It was the most beautiful place you had ever seen. And now it was your place, just for the two of you, together. 

You walked to him until your chests pressed together and you kissed him sweetly, the sound of your lips sticking together fluttering into the quiet air. He smiled into it, opening his mouth and delving his tongue into yours, the feeling of his beard against your cheeks and upper lip almost tickling. He slipped his hands down your back, grasping your behind, but you giggled and pulled away before he could properly get his hands on it. He groaned, low and deep and annoyed but you just continued laughing before stepping away from him and near a low rock. You stared into his eyes, face serious, as you began to untie the straps that held your dress over your shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed, and nerves made your hands shake, but you continued until one strap was untied. It slipped down your back and your chest, stopping just on top of your breast. You reached for the other, untying it but not letting it go, bringing it down with your hand and allowing the dress to slowly slip down your body. It exposed your chest first, goosebumps popping up on your breasts before your nipples tightened and began to pebble. Poseidon’s eyes were locked on you, his breath shallow and his entire body tightening. He could feel the blood rushing in his veins, could feel the heat suddenly clinging to his skin, and he gulped, clenching his hands as he watched you lower the dress further, expose your stomach, your pussy, then drop it to the floor. Both of you let out shaky breaths as he stared at you, at the ravenous look in his eyes. It almost hurt to breathe, to move, but you forced yourself to walk into the water, looking back over your shoulder as you stepped into the water. He stared at your back, at the muscles in your legs as you walked, at the round backside that tempted him like nothing else. 

You immersed yourself in the water until only your head was above it, your arms and legs swishing slowly to keep you up. You stared at him like a siren, eyelids fluttered low and eyes hazy, lustful. You licked your lips, those precious lips that tasted better than ambrosia, and he lifted the shirt over his head, slipping his thumbs into the hem of his pants and pushing it down. You traced your eyes over the defined muscles of his abdomen, at the thick flesh that formed his arms, strong and fierce and so so perfect. His thighs were wide, strong, defined with muscle, and you had never desired to sit on a person before this moment. He was truly a god. 

His skin was slightly bronzey with pinkish undertones, and you wanted to run your hands over every inch of it. You stared at him, at his cock, and you clenched your thighs together so hard at the pangs of pure lust that hit you that you almost went under. He was… he was what desire looked like. He was thick, and long, and a red colour that made it look almost painful. You wanted to soothe that ache. 

You continued treading water, waiting for him to follow after you, and he did, splashing into the water with a lot less care than you had. You would have giggled, but he was on you so quickly, wrapping his arms around you and caging you against his body. He was warm, even in the water, and his muscles were firm. You reached up to kiss him, to let him lave his tongue inside your mouth to his heart’s content as you pressed one hand to his cheek and felt his beard beneath your fingers. Your arms came up to wrap around his neck, pressing you as close as physically possible to him. You would jump into his skin if you could. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gasped when his member pressed to the sensitive skin of your core. 

You had felt the slickness even before you had entered the lake, the way it made your lips slide against each other and made walking a chore. You had felt the squish of it against your inner thighs, warm and wet and so desperate for Poseidon to ease the ache it ebbed from. He brought his hand down to the apex of your thighs as he moved away from your lips, kissing over your cheek and down to your neck. He pressed it with kisses, laved it with licks, and you quivered in his arms as he began gently touching you between your legs. 

His fingers were hesitant at first, softly prodding at your lips before slipping between them and pressing the little nub right at the top. You jolted, moaning into the air at the electric feeling. You had never felt like this before, had never felt pleasure so deep. He rubbed it, pressing and releasing, pressing and releasing. You quivered in his arms, shook and whimpered as your thighs and arms clenched tighter around him. Poseidon breathed heavily into your neck, licking your shoulder and biting it softly as he pressed a finger into you, pushing past the initial tension of your entrance to press another of his fingers inside and against your walls. 

You were so warm. Hotter than the waters of phlegethon, and his movements hurried. He wanted to be inside you, to sink himself to the very hilt and lavish in the heat and wetness you provided. His fingers pumped in and out of you so quickly that the water around you began to slosh and splash. The way his hands rubbed your insides felt like little fires had been started inside your body and the only way to survive was to let them burn everything to ash. It built and built, your breaths getting heavier, moans getting louder, hands clenching tighter. Then you were cresting the pleasure, reaching its peak, shaking and forcing your body onto his hand as much as you could, relishing the press of his knuckles against your entrance, his thumb against the little nub at the top. 

You panted into his neck, laying your head down on his shoulder as all your muscles released and you felt like you were made of cloud mist, held together only by his grip on you. But Poseidon didn’t slow down, just pulled his fingers out of you and spread your thighs a little wider. You groaned, shifting your body, but he just quietly shushed you, rubbing your back and allowing you to settle in his arms again before pressing his cock to your entrance. You gulped, pressing yourself down so he would finally be inside you, so you would finally know what it was like to be joined as one. He groaned, loud and monstrous as he pressed fully into you. You gripped him so tightly that he forgot how to breathe, knowing nothing but the heat surrounding his cock and the whimpers you breathed against his ear. Your nails dug into his shoulders and he bit down onto your neck, a little harder this time. You keened, moving your hips, hoping for something, anything. He shifted his hips, and the drag of his veins against your walls made a high-pitched moan wail from your lips. It was like being shot through with electricity, like every limb was paralysed and forced to feel the sudden shocks that emanated from your core. 

Poseidon began to move in rhythm, pushing and pulling his hips, addicted to the rub of your walls. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear past the rushing in his ears. All he knew was you, pressed against his body, your walls clamped around him, your thighs shaking as you tried to hold on. 

Again and again and again. His thrusts became harder and harder, erratic, his pelvis squishing your nub every time he came back inside you. One of his feet dug into the sand and the other pressed against the rock that followed the sand. He used it to keep his balance, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up and down his member. You lay close to limp in his arms, letting the pleasure rock over you, through you. 

He was close, so close. Electricity ran up his spine, down to his toes. He could feel it building, his stomach tightening. His cock felt too hard, too ready to explode, and with one more push inside you, he was there, bursting. He roared into the air, mouthing at your neck as sparks shot through him and his hips rutted into you without control. You could feel it twitching inside you, spurting inside you, the sudden warmth that flowed down your walls and disappeared into the water. You pulled back from his shoulder and kissed him fiercely, mouth open and cheeks hurting against his beard. Somewhere on earth, an earthquake shook a city. 

Hermes had trailed a little too far when following you, and couldn’t figure out how both of you had disappeared through the rockface. He had heard your voices, had heard the quiet way they dissipated as if you had been walking away. He pressed on the cliffs in all sorts of places, contemplating if both of you had actually dared attempt to climb the menacing cliffs, when he heard a splash. He followed it to the vines, to the entrance to the lake, and snuck through. He walked until the edge of the cave-like passageway, sticking close to the walls. He peeked through, and saw the clothes on the floor, your dress in a heap near the edge of a boulder. Something thick and sticky filled his stomach and began to climb toward his throat. He dropped close to the floor and crawled into the sanctuary, hiding behind the boulders until he could view the lake from behind one of them. 

The sight of you clinging to his uncle, wet arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him like you were desperate, droplets of water on your face as it contorted in pleasure even while you pressed your mouth to Poseidon’s, made Hermes close his eyes and sit back against the boulder. He had seen Poseidon’s hands below the water, gripping your waist, pressing it to his own. He had heard the gasps you let out between kisses, the little moans in reply to Poseidon’s grunts. He wanted to gag. He pressed a hand to his mouth, clenched his eyes shut and pressed his head between his knees. This couldn’t be real. What he was seeing, what he was still hearing, couldn’t be real. A black anger, venomous and seething, like something he had never felt before, filled his belly. It was vicious, eating through his flesh, whispering hatred in his ears. He wanted to scream, to jump into the water and rip his uncle to shreds, to throw you off the side of Olympus. His hands began to shake and he pressed them to his ears to drown out the sounds of your coupling. His fingers dug into his hair and he pulled it until it felt like it was on the verge of being ripped out. He needed vindication. He deserved vindication. 

Hermes sat there until his breath was closer to normal, then crawled back out the way he came. He stood outside the entrance to the lake and whispered curses at the both of you. His entire body felt red hot and he trembled with his anger. He stomped back toward the palace, scheming and trying to fit pieces together in his mind of what would hurt the both of you most. He wanted you dead. He wanted you gone. You were the reason this awful thing sat in his heart, this parasite that was eating him alive. The only way to do that was to get Zeus to kill you. It was the only answer. 

Hermes’s walk began to slow as he approached the main courtyard, as he saw the paths that wound around the main palace and noticed the side door that allowed the cloud spirits in and out. It all fell together in his head. A small smile of relief made its way onto his lips. Yes, yes, it was all falling into place. It would be easy, too easy. And what would make Zeus angrier than his lightning bolt going missing? 

As you began to walk back from the lake, the only hint of your adventure being the wet tips of your hair and the slightest limp in your walk, you could hear the sound of rushing and yelling and thunder. Instantly you were on guard, body seizing up and eyes turning serious. Poseidon walked a little faster, staying just ahead of you as you entered the main courtyard of Olympus and headed into the castle where the commotion seemed to be coming from. 

“WHO HAS STOLEN IT?! ANSWER ME. WHICH ONE OF YOU DARE STEAL FROM YOUR KING?” You could hear Zeus clear as day even before you entered the throne room, staring at the morose pantheon as you walked in behind Poseidon. When Zeus noticed the new entries, he whirled on his brother and shoved a finger in his face. “Was it you? Jealous of my power, my position?” 

“What has happened?” Poseidon asked, though an anger suddenly seethed in his stomach at the fire in his brother’s eyes and the finger pointed at his face. 

“MY LIGHTNING BOLT HAS BEEN STOLEN!” Zeus screamed into the air, pacing in the middle of the gods as they all stood just in front of their thrones. 

Hades turned to look at the both of you, Persephone clutched tight under his arm, and he shook his head as if to tell you to stay silent. Hephaestus and Hestia stood next to each other, arms brushing together and eyeing Zeus critically, as if this madness could only have been brought on by his own doing. You pursed your lips and shifted to stand hidden behind your lover. 

“Confess. Right now. Who has stolen it?” Zeus spat, eyeing each of the gods who only looked away from his piercing gaze. 

Poseidon noted the way Hermes glanced toward you, at the edges of your hair dripping onto your dress and leaving watermarks on your shoulders and back. His eyes were hard like onyx, and something akin to cruelty seemed to hide behind his face, the set of his mouth, but he passed it off as annoyance at his father. Ares noted you standing beside his uncle, and a frown overtook his face. 

“She is not of Olympus, is it a coincidence that she is here and the lightning bolt has been stolen?” He voiced, pointing at you. Everyone turned to stare at you and your heart jumped into your throat. You began to shake your head, holding your hands up in surrender. 

“No, this has nothing to do with me, I was nowhere near the palace,” you began desperately, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing to try and figure out how to appease them. 

“She was with me, and we were far from here. She did not do this,” Poseidon’s voice was like a crack of lightning, truly a competition for his brother. 

“You could’ve had someone else help you,” Zeus thundered, ignoring his brother and continuing to glare daggers at you now that the seed of doubt had been planted. “Return it at once.” “But I don’t have it! How am I supposed to return something I have not stolen?!” You cried desperately, tears now threatening your eyes. 

“You refuse? Fine. You will be seized until the lightning bolt has been returned to its rightful place,” and before anyone could even take a breath, a glowing circle surrounded the floor around you and you disappeared in a flash of lightning, transported to something akin to a jail cell on the far side of Mount Olympus. 

As you cried in the room of pure white, no door to leave through, the walls impenetrable to even your magic, the gods in Asgard received a message of the accusation lodged against you. Odin, though fuming, worried more for your safety, and sent an envoy of ravens to tell of their incoming arrival on Olympus to discuss these events. All the norse gods begged to accompany him, to aid in avenging their princess, but he only enlisted the help of Loki, knowing of your friendship with the Jotunn and that the trickster would be good help in getting out of a sticky situation. 

On Olympus, Hermes watched you curl up in a corner of the room, cheeks stained with tears and eyes red, and guilt began to fill his heart. He had felt angry, vindictive, when he saw you kiss the god of the seas. But knowing that he had hurt you felt so much worse than any of that. He hated that you had chosen Poseidon, that you refused to love him back, but he hated this burning in his heart, this venomous, evil blackness that seemed to tinge his very insides as he listened to your quiet sobs. He didn’t want to hurt you, not like this. Though it felt too late to have this realisation, he knew he could do at least one thing to begin making it right. 

Zeus sat on his throne, fuming. Lightning crackled in the sky, winds blew so fiercely that the humans had boarded themselves into their houses or sat at the altars of his temple, praying for his forgiveness. He would kill you. He would kill you and retrieve the bolt and send your divine corpse back to Odin and his people as a lesson. 

Poseidon had been lost as to what to do next, he had already yelled at his brother, threatened war, interrogated almost all his nephews and nieces to no avail. He had even gotten on his knees in front of Zeus’s throne, swallowed his pride and begged his brother to believe him, to believe that you were innocent. Nothing. He had eventually fallen onto his throne, glaring daggers at his brother as his nieces and nephews whispered among themselves around the throne room, looking between him and Zeus. Hades, finally having let go of Persephone and ushering her to find her mother and a safe garden to stay in until he came and got her, made his way to stand behind Poseidon. He didn’t say a word, knowing his brother didn’t need to hear anything right now, and just placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Poseidon did not move. 

The doors to the throne room burst open for the second time that day and Hermes ran in, the wings on his shoes still fluttering. He skidded to a stop just in front of Zeus’s throne, huffing out “father!” as he bent at the waist to catch his breath. All the gods turned to stare, Zeus raising an eyebrow as he stared contemptuously down at his son. Poseidon sat forward. 

“I found the lightning bolt!” Hermes huffed, holding out the bolt to his father. A gasp floated around the room as they all stared at the buzzing lightning bolt in his hand. Zeus leaned over and snatched it out of Hermes’ hands, holding onto it so tightly that if it had been anything else it would have been crushed into dust. 

“Where did you find it, son?” Zeus asked, eyes still on the lightning bolt. 

“On Earth, father, thrown into the mountains of Rhodope,” he sighed, eyes flitting around to the other gods. They began to murmur, frowns marring their faces as they wondered how in the world the lightning bolt had ended up in the Rhodope mountains. 

Zeus stared at his son, his gaze like stone, until the younger god looked away. Then he sighed and snapped his fingers so the bolt returned to its place and clapped his hands, a smile now on his face. 

“Dionysus! This is now a celebration! Bring wine, the lightning bolt has returned,” and he began bellowing with laughter. Some of the gods joined in, tittering awkwardly, and Hera sighed so heavily and with such annoyance that even Zeus shifted away from the side which bordered her throne. 

Poseidon stared at all that had just happened, at the relieved smile on Hermes’ face and the way Zeus was already back to joking with Ares. Anger, hot and boiling, seethed inside of him and he stood abruptly from his throne, glaring at his brother then heading for the door. He couldn’t be in here any longer while his love was trapped in some prison surely made to torture her very soul. Just as he reached the doors, they burst open once more and Odin stormed in, cloak billowing behind him as he marched up to Zeus’s throne. 

“Where is my daughter?” He demanded, mouth set in an angry line. 

“In my prison, she is accused of stealing my lightning bolt,” Zeus answered in an equally thunderous voice, standing and looking down at the man. 

“Release her at once, she did no such thing.” 

“How do you know? She appears in Olympus, the only outsider, and then my lightning bolt goes missing. This does not seem like a coincidence to me,” Zeus raised an eyebrow as he stared at Odin, daring the god to rebuke him. Odin opened his mouth as if he was about to argue but closed it and sighed, taking a deep breath in to gather his words. 

“Release my daughter. Please,” he gritted out. “My people will never interact with yours again, will never step foot near Olympus again as long as you release her.” Zeus and Poseidon stared at Odin, one contemplating, the other heartbroken. Zeus nodded, standing from his throne and holding out his hand to Odin.

“It is agreed. Neither of our peoples will step foot in the other’s lands, will interact with the other, for the safety of our people,” Zeus’s voice was stoic, and he waited until Odin had nodded in return and slipped his hand into his own. They shook twice and Zeus snapped his fingers, turning his back on Odin to return to his throne. 

“My daughter? Where is she?” Odin snapped, glaring daggers into Zeus’s back.

“Oh, you will find her outside with your trickster,” Zeus waved his hand in the air, voice unbothered, and Odin disappeared with a flash. 

Poseidon fell back into his throne, all the air gone from his lungs. He stared at the spot where Odin had stood, where reality seemed to have collapsed, and a choked sound left his mouth. The promise still rang in his ears, the promise of separation, the promise of never seeing his love again until the day he was forgotten and disappeared into the dust. He clenched the arm so harshly that it broke off, and the other gods in the room turned to stare at him. He threw it onto the floor, cracking the marble, and disappeared, leaving only the scent of the sea in his wake. 

At the base of Mount Olympus, Loki waited for something to happen, whether it be Odin returning with you or a call to fight. He paced in the dirt, murmuring threats of violence to himself, all the things he would do if you weren’t returned in an instant. And then, in a flash of light, there you were, kneeling in the dirt, dress torn, hair damp, and tears tracking down your cheeks. You stared around yourself as if you couldn’t truly believe you were no longer surrounded with nothingness. You pressed your hands into the dirt, feeling the mud squelch under your fingers and took a deep breath in, beginning to laugh happily. Being a goddess, you were so quick to take freedom for granted, you realised. 

You stared up at Loki, a wide smile on your face when Odin appeared beside him in a flash of light. There was relief in his eyes, but something else too. Something akin to worry. 

“Father! I promise, I promise, I did not steal that lightning bolt,” you began, pressing your hands together as your face fell. 

“I know, little goddess, I know,” he soothed, patting the top of your head as you began to weep with relief. “But whoever has done this has caused consequences far beyond your imprisonment. From henceforth, we are not to speak with, to be near any of the gods of that pantheon,” he told you, smiling sympathetically down at you as your face fell. 

“What?” 

“I know you enjoyed Olympus, you had made friends with those gods, but it is the only solution, the best agreement,” and with another pat to your head he disappeared back to Valhalla. 

You sat there, staring up at the sky where the clouds gathered to hide Olympus, as your head filled with… everything. You wanted to scream, to march up there and demand they let you in, let you see your lover. How could they do this? Accuse you of this, then rip him away from you? Your entire body began to quiver and you let out a scream from deep inside you. It was shrill and so loud that even the gods in the throne room paused at a distant sound of pain that reached their ears. 

Loki walked over and knelt down in the dirt next to you, gently caressing your hair as you wailed into the air. It was the sound of an animal hurt, of a baby crying for its mother, of a lover separated. He whispered gently into your ear, promises of an eternity to recover, of lands yet to explore, of anything he could think of that may calm your screaming. Slowly, you stopped screaming and began sniffling, hiccuping with remnant sobs, and saying “no, no, no,” over and over again. 

“They cannot take him from me. They will not.” 

“Remember the story I told you, little goddess?” Loki asked, a frown marring his face as he looked down at you. 

“I will not be like them,” you whimpered, lips quivering in anger and frustration, “I do not intend to lose.” And you stood from the dusty ground, dress ripped and torn, hair in disarray, mud splatters on your face, and pointed a finger toward Mount Olympus, a vow whispered on your lips. 

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @zeeader, @josxkl1m

[haesunflower]

jiwoong's girl friend (not girlfriend) | a friends with benefits story ft. matthew

genre: mentions of smut, suggestive, minors dni

pairing: jiwoong x female reader, matthew x female reader

about/tags: matthew is obsessed with jiwoong's girlfriend (not girlfriend) but can't do anything about it (1.9k+ words)

there's no explicit smut but it's mentioned that they fuck, cursing, suggestive, y/n is a tease, friends with benefits jiwoong, pervert/voyeur matthew, nsfw mentions

Matthew thinks that you’re the hottest person he’s ever met. But he couldn’t do anything because you were Jiwoong’s "not-girlfriend" girl friend. Thus, he tries to keep those thoughts to himself, given your relationship status with Jiwoong.

You visit Jiwoong at the dorms at least once a week. Although Jiwoong initially introduces you as one of his long time friends, the members have since disregarded that label. They all widely accept that you two were seeing each other, even without confirmation from Jiwoong himself. 

You get along with the members quite well too. Last time, you brought fried chicken for the whole team, and handed Matthew a box of his favorite flavor. “I heard you like chicken Matthew. Try this one, it’s my favorite”. Your hands brushed as he took the box from you, and his heart skipped a beat a little. 

It’s a little pathetic, really. Matthew can’t help it. 

(REMINDER: MINORS DNI)

Matthew knows it’s rude to stare. But it’s getting difficult to adhere to the gentlemanly persona he has. You often cuddle up with Jiwoong on the couch as the younger members watch movies on the TV screen. He tries not to stare at your legs that are draped over Jiwoong’s lap. Other times, Matthew finds you casually sitting in Jiwoong’s desk chair, hair damp from the shower. He tries not to look at the wet spots that have formed on your shirt, especially not when it’s dangerously close to your chest. 

And if that wasn’t enough, Matthew actually found a pair of panties (that he assumes to be yours) in the dryer, and contemplated on keeping it for himself. Ultimately, he handed it to Jiwoong before any of the younger members could see. To which Jiwoong replied with a “thanks man, she thought she lost this.”

Now that it’s summer, you come visit the dorms in shorter skirts and dresses. It’s getting a little hard not to keep admiring you – the way the straps adorn your dainty collarbones, how the fabric tightens at your waist complimenting your figure, and how your dress hem moves up slightly when the breeze from the air conditioning passes by.

It’s hard not to keep watching as you greet Jiwoong with a kiss, or as he lifts you up to carry you to his room. He should really look away at some point, but he can’t. 

Again, he knows he’s being a little pathetic. Perhaps borderline perverted as his imagination runs wild on what occurs behind Jiwoong’s closed door. But he knows he doesn’t stand a chance anyway. 

┈•┈୨୧┈•┈

You’re both panting heavily, and Jiwoong makes sure to press a little kiss on your shoulder before he lays flatly in the space next to you. With chests rising and falling, he extends his right arm out to you for access to lay on him. Like clockwork, he does this after every time you fuck. 

Naturally, you accept the offer and make yourself cozy against him. It’s silent before you ask him “everything okay, Jiwoong? you’re awfully quiet...”

Jiwoong gives a low chuckle, mainly because he should be asking you that question instead. He went a little hard on you today. “Sorry for all the marks Y/N, didn’t mean to take it that far” he turns to you to examine the purple hickies he left littered all over your chest and neck. He makes a mental note to check your freezer for ice. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s hot –” you reassure, extending your fist out for him to dap you up like always. “– and besides, you know I could take so much more” you tease him as you look up through your eyelashes, and he nods with a smirk. 

“ahh you minx. This is literally why I cannot get enough of you”. He repositions his body to face you, using his forearms to prop himself up. This way, he sees your face clearly. You engage in conversation like that, as he asks about what’s new with your work and for the gossip on all your mutual friends. Likewise, you ask him what's new with his schedule and members. 

“Speaking of members, I think Matthew might have a small crush on you.” 

You laugh.

“Just a small crush? have you seen the way he looks at me? he’s in love with me or something” you joke. And Jiwoong tilts his head to the side, impressed at your confidence – “so when you come visit me at the dorms dressed up all pretty, it’s partly for him, isn’t it?” he accuses, raising up an eyebrow. 

You don’t know whether you should be apologizing or defending yourself so you settle with a “sorry? It’s fun teasing him?” Jiwoong laughs, a laugh that says “haha i knew it” before he actually says “go easy on him, tiger – he’s more sensitive than you think.”

You pretend to put on an annoyed face, and Jiwoong kisses your cheek before standing up to get dressed. “Can’t blame him though, your ass is great” he gives a playful pat on your buttcheeks before he’s out the door.

You make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up when you receive a text.

jiwoong📱: made an ice pack in the freezer for the marks lol sorry again

jiwoong📱: and thanks for the fuck, babe

y/n📱: same time tomorrow? 

jiwoong📱: yeah i’ll be home by 9

┈•┈୨୧┈•┈

“Hey, Matt!” 

It’s Matthew that opens the door for you at 8 pm. He’s the only one currently at the dorms, so he feels responsible to tell you that Jiwoong should be home soon.

“Oh yeah I know, I came a little early to come hang out with you” you say as you remove your shoes at the entryway. Matthew's throat runs dry and his face turns criminally red as he attempts to think of a response. Amused at his reaction, you approach him and place your hand against his burning forehead. 

Fully knowing about his crush on you, you innocently ask “you okay Matt? you don’t look so good…” your face is so close to his, he can feel your breath. “Ah yeah, I’m fine” he clears his throat, as he removes your hand from his face. Matthew doesn’t know how he’ll survive the next hour with you. 

“Good. because I want to watch a movie” you skip happily to the couch, patting the spot next to you for Matthew to come. When he settles on the couch, he’s a little uncomfortable – wary of your presence. You end up choosing some studio ghibli movie and Matthew gets a little giddy inside. 

A few beer bottles later, you find yourself placing your legs on top of Matthew’s lap "for more warmth". Matthew figures that you must have done this out of habit, as he often finds you in this position with Jiwoong. His hands carefully rest atop your legs, he's trying not to feel weird about it. The movie plays, but the plot is the last thing on his mind right now. You watch him internally panic, so awfully stiff, which you actually find kind of cute. 

When the movie finishes, you get a text from Jiwoong. 

jiwoong📱: almost done, can you wait? 

y/n 📱: yeah just here drinking with matthew

“Jiwoong’s gonna be a little late” you announce, removing your legs from his lap and placing them on the ground. Matthew looks a little disappointed at the loss of body contact.

Matthew hums in response before saying “well I guess it’s my turn to pick the next movie”. He quickly grabs the remote from your hands before you could protest. In fake offense, you say “is that any way you should be treating your guest, matthew?”

“guest? You practically live here y/n” he reminds you, shaking his head with a smile on his face. He turns to face the TV, scrolling through the different animated films. Jiwoong was taking too long, and you wanted to tease Matthew a little more.

“actually I don’t want to watch another movie, Matt” your arms are crossed. He turns around to face you “what do you wanna do instead?” he asks, innocently cocking an eyebrow at you. 

You're feeling a little bold, maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the way Matthew was touching your leg earlier. “I don’t know…anything fun up your sleeve?” you leave light touches to his arm, snaking itself to reach his shoulder. Matthew’s frozen in place, unsure if he should read into it. You could just be joking, after all. 

“uhhhhhh…” he’s stuttering as he tries to think of something, anything. You take satisfaction in his nervousness, and inch yourself closer to him. Hand still on his shoulder, you use it as support to straddle his lap. Your faces are awfully close to one another again, and a million emotions run through Matthew’s face. Lust, guilt, excitement. 

You ghost your lips against his ear to whisper “is there something wrong matt? why are you always this nervous around me?” A devilish grin begins to bloom on your face, and it’s taking everything in him not to touch you, not to grab you by your chin and kiss you, not to take you right then and there.

He’s breathing heavily, and his knuckles are white from balling up his fists in an attempt for physical restraint – repeating to himself that he cannot touch you. Especially when your neck is covered in purple bruises, a reminder of Jiwoong's claim over you.

You both hear the passcode being entered as the front door unlocks. 

“Is that you, babe?” you yell out. 

When you hear the familiar “mmhh”, you decide to mount yourself off of Matthew to greet Jiwoong before he enters the living room. Though Matthew can’t see you anymore, he can definitely hear your conversation. 

“Hi Y/N, did you wait long?” Jiwoong asks. “Not really, Matthew kept me company” you respond. 

You and Jiwoong enter the room hand in hand, and he shoots Matthew a little nod as a greeting. As Jiwoong leads you into his room, you look back at Matthew to give him a little wink. 

Jiwoong’s door closes, and Matthew groans because of his hard on, burying his face into the pillow in disbelief.

┈•┈୨୧┈•┈

Matthew is trying to focus at the gym, attempting to rid any thoughts of you. Heavy emphasis on trying. He can’t stop thinking about your interaction the night before. And he wonders if he should tell Jiwoong about it. 

“Mind if I join you mattchu?” Jiwoong appears out of nowhere as he places his water bottle on the bench press next to him. He nods, albeit not looking him in the eye. He literally can’t. Not when his girlfriend was straddling his lap the night before, whispering seductively to his ear. 

“Jiwoon hyung, about Y/N…” he begins. 

Jiwoong chuckles as he picks up a weight from the rack. It’s about time he asks me about her, he thinks. He looks Matthew in the eye as he bicep curls the weight, “what about Y/N?” he responds. 

“How long have you been together? Like exactly how long” Matthew doesn’t know what knowing the answer to this would achieve, it still doesn’t diminish the fact that he almost kissed you the night before. 

“She’s not my girlfriend Matt” Jiwoong deadpans as he reracks the weight. Getting a heavier weight for his next set of reps.  "I'm being serious, we're good friends but we're not together. Like really, really good friends.." Jiwoong makes sure to emphasize his words.

“Then why..” Matthew trails off. What he wanted to ask was “why are you always with her” or “why is she always at our dorms” or “why do you call each other babe”. The gears are actively turning in his head when he realizes he’s been looking at your relationship from a conservative point of view. Him, out of all people, conservative? He thinks Korea might have brainwashed him.

“Do you finally understand what I mean?” Jiwoong is chuckling at Matthew’s confused face as he sits down on the bench, towel hanging from behind his neck. “And for the record Matt, I have no problems with sharing” Jiwoong playfully slaps Matthew’s back, as if giving him permission. 

Matthew does have a chance after all. 

┈•┈୨୧┈•┈

PART 2

A/N: dedicated to my hoes (endearingly said) @seok02 @bubbleseo @solarwoniii

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tags: @jiaant11 @ohdudedhesflirting @ihrtgw @starhyeon

[valkyyriia]

Day 11: Reflections in the Waves (of Pleasure)

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List | Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 1947 CW: Mirror Sex, PiV, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Long-Suffering Sebastian, Voyeurism Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader Prompt(s): Mirror Sex | Oral

Notes: The urge to have Sebastian call himself ‘one hell of a butler’ was strong but I did resist. Not enough to keep it out of the notes, though…

NEW: Want to be tagged when I post new fics? Submit the form here!

“The mirror you requested has finally arrived, Monsieur le Comte,” Sebastian said when he entered the room, delivering the day’s mail to the vampire noble as he normally did. “Masters Napoleon and Leonardo helped me bring it upstairs to le Mademoiselle’s room.”

Comte smiled, pleased. “Thank you, as always, Sebastian,” he replied. “I always appreciate your hard work. I’m sure it was heavy.”

Sebastian bowed and left the room, promising to bring up tea shortly. “There’s no need,” Comte said, standing up and shrugging on his long overcoat. “I’ve a few things to do before she gets home, so I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

For the first time this month, you were actually doing your job. You had left with Isaac earlier this morning to do the shopping. Conveniently, the mirror had come in not long after you left, so it was still a surprise.

Comte immediately made his way to your room, pushing open the door to inspect the craftmanship. Normally he’d show a bit more decorum; Comte was a gentleman, truly, and would not deign to enter a woman’s room without knocking first. However, he needed to make sure the piece was up to his lofty standards before you got home to see it.

A few weeks ago, you had made an offhand comment to le Comte about not having a mirror quite long enough to be able to see your shoes with your dress unless you were standing far away, and even then you could barely see due to the distance. Comte’s eyes widened incredulously. How had he not considered that would be an issue? This was a travesty!

Thus, in true Comte de Saint-Germain fashion, he had immediately contacted a metalsmith and commissioned a large, gilded mirror. The thing was truly a work of art; it was nearly large enough to cover an entire wall, and richly decorated in golden filigree and gemstones. The metalsmiths had outdone themselves. The mirror was so grand in its design, it frankly wouldn’t be out of place amongst the treasures of Versailles.

He hoped you would be pleased when you saw it.

Smiling to himself, Comte went to call a carriage. He would meet you in town, treat you to a nice lunch, and bring you home to show you the gift he had gotten you. Maybe he would buy you a few new dresses, too. He had an excuse this time, after all; you needed to try out your new mirror.

Oh, he simply couldn’t wait.

You and Isaac had just finished up the grocery shopping when you heard a familiar tenor call your name from behind.

“Comte?” You asked, turning around, startled. Your eyes were wide, but the smile that broke out across your face was wider when you saw him.

“I thought I would surprise my lovely partner by meeting her in town,” Comte said, walking over to you and kissing your hand in greeting. “It’s good to see you as well, Isaac,” Comte added, turning his smile to the other vampire. “I was going to ask if you’d like to join us for lunch?”

Isaac, true to himself, blushed something fierce. “I thank you, for the offer, but I’ll bring the shopping home. You two have fun.” Before you could so much as protest, the physicist had taken your bags and flagged down a carriage.

You watched him go, feeling somewhat guilty. The guilt was replaced with giddy happiness when Comte tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow. “Allow me to treat you today, ma chérie.”

You finally returned to the mansion a few hours later as the sun was just beginning to set over the woodline. You were somewhat proud of yourself; you had managed to talk Comte down to just four new dresses instead of the ten he had wanted to buy. You had a sneaking suspicion that the vampire had gone ahead and purchased the other six anyway, to be delivered later on, but you would take the small victories when they came.

Comte, ever the gentleman, refused to let you carry a single thing. “What kind of partner would I be if I made you carry the gifts I purchased for you? I’ll not hear a word of it, chérie.”

The guilt you felt before resurfaced when you entered the mansion’s foyer and saw Sebastian dusting the wall sconces.

“Welcome home, Monsieur le Comte, Madame le Comte,” Sebas greeted, adding emphasis to your own name. Your cheeks flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and indignation, the guilt replaced with irritation. Comte chuckled at your side and moved a hand to the small of your back to guide you up the stairs.

“Thank you, Sebas,” Comte said over his shoulder. “We’ll be down for dinner later this evening.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” Sebas muttered under his breath. If le Comte heard him, he made no indication of it.

When you had made it to the residential hallway and stopped in front of your door, you knew something was up. Usually, you would join le Comte in his own chambers for the evening since his suite was far more spacious. The only true downside was the way Leonardo would sometimes barge in, though the Italian polymath had taken to knocking before entering as of late.

You briefly wondered why.

Before you could go further down that line of thought, you shook your head. “Abel,” you addressed your partner. “What did you do?”

Le Comte smiled elusively. “Whatever do you mean, ‘what did I do’? I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific, chérie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You met me in town. Took me to lunch. Bought me more dresses. Let me win an argument over how many dresses you were allowed to buy me.” You raised an eyebrow. “And now we’re back at my room. You never bring me back to my own room unless you’ve plotted something.”

“Don’t I?” Comte asked innocently. “Can’t I spoil my darling partner with a spontaneous date just because I felt like it?”

“You can,” You conceded. “But you don’t.”

Comte just laughed, gesturing to your door. You eyed him suspiciously but obeyed him anyway, opening the door. Immediately, your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “You didn’t,” you accused, turning back to him. “Really?” You asked.

Comte followed you inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “You said you couldn’t see your shoes in the other one. That, mon amour, was inexcusable.”

You just shook your head. Two of Comte’s favorite things were spoiling you and fashion. He particularly enjoyed spoiling you with fashion. You supposed you weren’t really surprised that this was something he viewed necessary. You sighed and conceded.

“Thank you, Abel,” you smiled. “It’s beautiful. I suppose this is why you insisted on the dresses?”

“And also why I agreed to only four,” Comte added, pulling you to him for a peck on the lips. “I feared ten would have been far too obvious.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and leaned in for another kiss, which Comte was all too happy to give. The kisses quickly grew hotter and heavier. You parted your lips and Comte eagerly teased your tongue with his, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you closer. He squeezed your ass and you gasped into his mouth.

Your eyes lazily drifted open and you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You flushed and pulled away from Comte, your palms flat on his chest. He looked down at you curiously.

You cleared your throat awkwardly before whispering, “the mirror.”

Comte raised an eyebrow.

“I can see us,” you grumbled. He chuckled lowly, sending heat pooling in your belly.

“I hadn’t purchased this mirror with quite that intention in mind, but,” he smiled deviously. “That’s another good use for it.”

Ten minutes later found Comte seated in your desk chair, his front to your back, buried to the hilt inside of you. He had his arms under your knees and was lifting you up and down on his cock. He had spread your legs wide, leaving your cunt on full display in the wall-sized mirror. You bit your lip as he moved you, his length gliding smoothly in and out of your body.

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?”

Your original hesitance was long gone; instead, your eyes were fixated on the lewd sight of him disappearing within your entrance. Comte’s cock glistened in the candlelight, your slick coating him thoroughly as he sunk deep inside you with each movement.

Your eyes briefly flickered up to the reflection of his face. Comte smiled coyly at you as you did so; the vampire was far more interested in watching your face as you took him, your eyes glazed over in lust and your mouth falling open in pleasure.

His lips drifted to the sensitive flesh underneath your ear and he kissed there. You shuddered, your legs involuntarily falling wider as he did so. Comte chuckled, his breath ghosting over the lobe of your ear. He took the lobe between his blunted teeth, careful to avoid breaking the skin with his fangs. Comte nibbled there before dragging his lips down the side of your neck, his fangs barely grazing the flesh.

You cried out in pleasure as the vampire latched onto your skin, sucking harshly on the flesh there without piercing it. An orgasm ripped through your body like the incoming tide as he slammed you harshly down on his cock. Your eyes focused on where your bodies were joined as he too met his climax, his groan resonating against your skin. You watched as your cunt pulsated, drawing twitch after twitch from Comte’s length. Each pulse of his cock resulted in a flood of warmth deep inside you. He drove himself somehow deeper with a grunt, his sweaty forehead falling against the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

After what felt like an eternity, Comte pressed a kiss to your shoulder and slipped from within you. What followed was a trickle of fluid, a mixture of his own come and your slick, dripping out of you and onto his softening cock. You inhaled sharply.

Comte laughed breathlessly, slowly lowering your legs. “I think we found something new you like, non, ma chérie?”

“Fermez-la,” you snapped at him petulantly.

His laugh just grew louder.

Sebastian knew better. He truly did.

Rather than prepare a full meal, the butler resigned himself to his fate. Steeling himself, he prepared a few cold cut sandwiches and placed them alongside a bottle of Rouge on a silver serving tray. Carrying them upstairs, he repeated his mantra in his head.

All he had to do was leave it outside the door. He didn’t have to see them. He didn’t have to hear them.

He hoped.

He breathed in deeply. He can do this.

He was a fantastic butler. So what if his employer was sleeping with his coworker? He can maintain decorum and -

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?” Comte’s voice drifted through the crack of the door.

Sebastian swallowed thickly.

Luck was not on his side today.

Sebastian didn’t fancy himself much of a voyeur, but-

He shook his head. No. He was not getting into those thoughts.

He quickly, but neatly, placed the tray outside the door. Standing up and straightening his bowtie, Sebastian retreated back to the safety of the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the tightness in his pants.

So what if he later purchased a smaller, floor-length standing mirror for his own personal use?

Dividers by @/natimiles

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother @candied-boys

@fang-and-feather @faustianfascination

Want to be added? Submit the form here.

[elllisaaa]

Omg oMg omG OMG soft dom reader never going through with punishments so he/she decides the boys need one tonight bc minsung was touching without permission and they’re both subs so she/he watches hanji desperately try to fuck minho and minho trying to jerk off and they cant keep a steady rhythm so they switch and minho is on top but it makes it worse bc minho has a small cock. so eventually reader gives in and fucks them hard making them cry and then fluffy after care 💓

omg minsung x reader is my weakness (and 2min, but i'll talk about it another time) and subby men ??? that's another weakness (yes, i have many). thank you so much for sending me this (my first ask, i'm all giggly, kicking my feet and all (don't hesitate to send more)). I hope you'll like it even if I changed some details as inspiration flooded. also, sorry for answering to this a little late, i was very busy with my no nut november serie, but a lot more is coming, don't worry. thank you for your ask anon ! enjoy !

DISCIPLINE - SUB!MINSUNG x READER

-> pairing : sub!minho x dom!fem!reader x sub!jisung

-> words count : 3.5k

-> genre : smut, established relation, threesome

-> warnings : dom/sub dynamic, threesome, poly!relationship, punishment, dirty talk, teasing, mutual masturbation, oral (f. receiving, m. implied), swearing, use of 'good boy', 'puppy', 'brat', and 'slut', degradation, face slapping, voyeurism, dry humping, masturbation, body worship, hair pulling, mommy kink, handjob, footjob, cum eating

+ the way i'm depicting minho and jisung does not represent them, it's only a work of fiction !

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist

You never felt the need to punish Jisung, nor Minho. Your boyfriends were always very sweet, always listening without you needing to be rough or assertive, thus there was no need to be mean. Maybe that’s why they took the liberty of touching each other even when you explicitly told them not to, maybe thinking that you wouldn’t be mad and let it go like every other time. But as soon as you entered your shared bedroom, they felt the mood shift and that you wouldn’t be as kind tonight. Maybe it was because of the stress of work, or maybe you just wanted to put them in their places for once. 

“- Care to explain what both of you are doing ?”

Jisung lifted his head from Minho’s neck where he left a tone of little purple marks, his hand stopping his motion on the other boy’s cock who couldn’t help the little whine that escaped him at the loss of friction. 

“- We… We were too turned on… Sorry, sorry, but we missed you too much.”

You walked fully into the room, your heels clicking on the floor as you threw your suit jacket on the chair sitting before your dressing table, the guys fumbling until they were sat at the edge of the bed while you did so, their eyes scanning every one of your moves nervously. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that the scene didn’t make you wet. Because it had, obviously. But you weren’t one to let it slide when they disobeyed you like that. 

You stopped in front of them, staring right into their souls, especially at Minho. You knew him. You knew that he was the one who had led Jisung into this. He surely had argued that you wouldn’t be this mad, that you would even be happy to have them ready for you when you’d come back home. But as you tugged his hair back, forcing him to look directly in your eyes, he felt so little, as if your aura was crushing him. It was threatening, but also hot. So hot. You were still wearing your working clothes : black high heels, black suit pants and an elegant white blouse, which was a little see-through, and they both could see your laced bra underneath. Yeah, maybe Minho had a thing for you looking like the attractive businesswoman you were.

“- That’s not a fucking excuse. I only asked you one thing. Do you remember ?”

Minho knew better than to answer without being allowed to and so did Jisung that was squirming in place, dying to have your hands on him too. You smiled down at him in a sickeningly sweet manner that didn’t presage anything good for him. 

“- Good boy, you at least learned one thing. Now you can talk.” 

You had grabbed his jaw in the meantime, making it difficult for him to talk but he did it anyway. He understood very well that if he wanted to cum tonight, he must follow every one of your orders very closely. 

“- You told us not to touch ourselves while you were away.

- That’s right baby, and why did I say that ?

- Because you only left for three days and that you’ll be back soon.

- Looks like you remember after all.”

You squeezed his jaw harder before releasing him, turning away from him to shift your attention on Jisung instead. Even if you suspected that Minho had gaslighted him into making out, he wasn’t innocent either, always testing your patience and being a brat. It was time to put them both in their places

“- So fucking explain me why I find you doing exactly what I told you not to do ? 

- I- We missed you so much, we just want-”

Jisung’s next words died into his throat, replaced by a moan when you slapped him, his head turning to the side with the violence of the impact. But you knew better than to stop at his hiss of pain - you knew he liked it, loved it even, knew that it made his dick twitch without even needing to check.

“- Don’t talk until I fucking tell you that you can, you don’t want to anger me even more, do you ?”

This time, Jisung didn’t dare let out a word, simply shaking his head from left to right, big doe eyes zeroing on your lips as you stroked the red mark you left on his cheek. 

“- Good.”

You stepped back a little, taking in the lustful view of your two boyfriends, seated on your shared bed, entirely naked when you were still fully clothed, their cocks rock hard when your panties were drenched, waiting for your next command. Why didn’t you try that out before ? It gave you such a rush of adrenaline to see how much power you held over them, ideas of everything you wanted to do to them clouding your mind. You could break them in so many ways, the possibilities were endless. But for now, you just wanted to see them suffer and pay the price of their actions.  

You pushed the chair you previously threw your jacket on until it was before the bed, sitting down and spreading your legs wide open. You could see Jisung drooling on your thighs, and Minho’s hands gripping the sheets to stop himself from touching his cock at the sight before his eyes. You smiled cockily at them as you unbuttoned your blouse painfully slowly, taking forever to reach the last one, exposing your chest to their hungry gazes. And as much as Jisung wished you didn’t wear a bra, he also had to admit that it fitted you perfectly, making you look like a goddess. 

“- Go on.”

Both of them stared at you, confusion written all over their faces. You rolled your eyes, annoyed that they didn’t get what you implied. 

“- Gosh, I really have to do all the work, dumb boys can’t even understand what I’m saying.”

Your degrading words went directly to Jisung cock, a moan threatening to escape him. He was almost ready to nob at your words, willing to agree to whatever you said as long as it meant pleasing you. He never saw you so bossy, but he already liked it. He wanted more and more of your mean words. 

“- Continue to touch yourselves like the stupid little sluts you are.”

Minho threw an hesitant glance at the other boy, but in a matter of seconds, they were all over each other again, lips and tongue mingling in a heated and messy kiss, hands roaming over their body and groping everywhere they could reach. They were so desperate for more it was almost cute. Almost because the way Jisung was humping Minho’s leg as he straddled his lap was everything but cute. He looked like a dog fucking his favourite toy, tongue lolling out of his mouth as his hyung kissed down his neck, groping his ass to guide his moves against his thick thigh. 

“- F-Fuck Min ! I need more…”

You bit your lips, resisting the urge to come up to them and wrap your hands around both of their pretty cocks, but seeing them whining so pathetically against each other's mouths was maybe even more satisfying. 

“- Be more specific Ji. What do you want Min to do ?”

Your voice breaking the silence made them halt their grinding for a bit, but they quickly went back to it, both of them hissing at the feeling of skin to skin contact.

“- I- I want his hand wrapped around my cock… Please…”

Minho’s eyes dived into yours over Jisung's shoulder, and he swore he had never seen such determination in your gaze before. He shivered as you cocked your head to the side, your mischievous smile having him wanting more. 

“- Do you think you deserved it though ? You think you deserved to have your dick touched after not listening to me ?”

Jisung turned his head toward you, tears almost spilling out of his eyes from how badly he needed to be touched. Your smirk widened as you unzipped your pants, slipping your hands between your thighs and brushing against your clit still covered by your panties. You let out the filthiest moan, just to tease them a little more.

“- No… I don’t think you’ve been good enough to earn it.

- Does this mean I have ?”

The pretentious smile on Minho’s face was soon whipped off as your gaze darkened. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe he shouldn't have provoked you. 

“- Does testing my patience get you going Lee Minho ? Answer.”

He gulped loudly, not even trying to hide how much your rough tone was turning him on.

“- N-No… Just want you to touch me.

- Then stop being a fucking brat for once.”

Minho only nodded his head, not daring to speak up again and risking to not feel your hands on him tonight, not when you looked so gorgeous, with your legs spread, rubbing at your wet clit while licking your lips. 

“- You’re going to listen to me, and do exactly what I tell you if you even want to see my hands coming near your cocks. Understood ?”

Both of them silently responded, not wanting to further anger you. 

“- Great. Ji, get off of him and sit down. Min, down on your knees.”

They shuffled quickly, moving into the exact position you wanted them to be, Minho staring at Jisung’s hard cock while the second was focusing on you, panting heavily and waiting for your next order. But it seemed like the older one couldn’t resist the urge to lick along the younger length, taking pride in the loud whine he let out. 

“- Close your mouth, slut.”

Minho did as you told immediately, fighting with his self-control to not touch either Jisung or himself. But he wanted to, badly. He needed it. 

“- Touch him, but no sucking or you’re not cumming.”

A small “yes'' left his mouth before he wrapped his hand around Jisung’s cock, watching him as he threw his head back and grabbed the older’s hair, another moan slipping past his lips. As Minho got to admire his boyfriend sinking down into pleasure, the latest got to contemplate the heavenly sight of your panties pushed to the side, fingers slowly working your wet cunt open. 

“- Finally listening to me. Doesn’t it feel so much better than disobeying ?”

Both of them moaned in response once again, and your smile widened at the sound, your fingers reaching deeper inside of you and making you release a noise too. Seeing them giving in to you was the quickest way to get you relaxed after this stressful work trip. 

“- Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’ve been good Min, you can touch yourself now.”

He didn’t let your words go to waste, immediately wrapping his other hand around his aching cock, whimpering at the feeling, pleasure and relief rushing through his veins.

“- S-Shit ! Feels so good… 

- Is that so ? 

- Y-Yes ! Would feel better if it was yours though…”

You let out a huff, and Minho could feel your disappointed gaze on him, but what he was even more focused on was how he couldn’t help but moan at seeing one more drop of Jisung’s precum hit the floor - such a waste they were not dripping down his throat. Jisung who didn’t care about your conversation by the way, as long as he got someone touching his cock. 

“- I’m being kind and you still find a way to complain ? Do you really want me to punish you ? 

- No, no, no, no ! I promise I can be good !

- Then come over here and show me. Prove me that you’re a good puppy.”

Minho never felt so turned on in his entire life, so he didn’t think twice before abandoning a whiny Jisung behind him as he crawled to you, sitting back on his heels between your legs, looking expectantly at you, silently asking you for permission to finally touch you. 

“- Go on.

- Thank you… thank you…”

You smiled down at him as he slowly took off your heels one after another, then slid down your pants to get a better view of your soaked white laced panties that he got rid off just as quickly. Maybe that having mens at your feet was your biggest kink after all because you’ve never been this wet before. Minho squeezed your thighs before he placed a kiss on your left ankle, slowly leaving a wet trail behind him as he got higher on your legs, sometimes sucking a little harshly on your skin. When he got to your inner thigh, he left a noticeable purple mark, his moans answering yours as you tugged on his hair. He was ready to do the same with your other leg but you yanked him roughly by his hair, inching his face closer to your pussy, his nose almost brushing against your clit. Minho was surrounded by the intoxicating scent of your arousal, his mouth watering at the memory of your taste. 

“- Haven’t I made it clear ? Eat me out.”

Minho immediately licked a strip of your wet folds, whining as your delicious essence filled up his senses. His nails were digging into your thighs, but you didn’t mind the slight pain, just as he didn't mind how roughly you were pulling his hair - in fact, you both loved it. You threw your head back when Minho sucked on your clit then pushed his tongue into you slightly, all the noises he made created a delicious vibration against your core that had you release one or two whimpers. But your focus shifted to Jisung when you heard him whine as he squirmed in place, desperate to get touched too. You smiled widely, seeing how tightly he fisted the sheets to keep his hands for himself, thrusting up in the air.

“- Have you been a good boy too Ji ?”

He lifted his head quickly, his teary eyes diving into yours as he nodded his head fervently.

“- Yes ! Yes ! I’ve been so good mommy ! Didn’t touch myself, I promise !

- Good job baby. Time for mommy to reward you hm ?”

Jisung closed his eyes, thinking that he could cum just from your deep, raspy voice praising him. He certainly would have, if you didn’t offer him something even more appealing. 

“- Oh my god, yes please ! I need you so bad, please… 

- Then come here.”

Just like his hyung before, he didn’t waste a second and almost ran to where you were seated, with Minho still eating you out as if he was a man starved, trying to ignore how painfully hard is dick was. You beckoned Jisung to come closer, until he was standing beside you and you could wrap your hand around his pretty cock. The loud moan that escaped him as you did so only made you smile again, loving to see tears spilling out of his eyes and rolling down his puffy cheeks. Having men crying from only your touch was maybe your second biggest kink. 

“- Aah ! Thank you ! Thank you mommy, f-feels so good…”

And having men calling you mommy was the third, without any doubt. However, your smirk was wiped out of your face when Minho buried one of his fingers inside your cunt, a moan leaving you instead. You knew him by heart ; he was jealous of the attention you were giving to Jisung and not him. You scratched his scalp lightly, another muffled sound coming out from him. He couldn’t put up an attitude with you, becoming putty in your hands every time they landed on him in any way.

“- Yeah ? Feels good Ji ?”

The boy only answered you with a high-pitched moan, one of his hands gripping your breast, just needing something to ground himself in reality. Because you were making him crazy, he was losing his mind over you and how good your touch felt. No coherent thoughts were crossing his brain anymore, the only one invading all his senses being you. 

“- So fucked out and you didn’t even put your dick in me…”

You knew Jisung could and would fuck you good, so good when you’ll let him. But for now, having him leaking precum from only your hand and the view of Minho devouring your cunt was enough to bring him close to the edge. It was also very tempting to put him in your mouth, but the man between your thighs was going feral, bringing you close to the edge. He added a second finger, stretching you out just like you loved, licking all the juices that were leaking out of your cunt. He needed more, more and more of your arousal. But he also needed you to touch him, whatever it was, he needed it. Minho lifted his head, his glossy eyes diving in your lust filled ones, his chin and lips covered in your essence.

“- Can you touch me, please ? I’ve been good for you…”

His hands were squeezing your thighs hard while your own, which wasn’t busy jerking Jisung off, came down to stroke his cheek. Minho sighed in relief to the feeling, leaning even more in your touch.

“- Mmh… It’s true, you’ve been such a good boy for me, eating me out and not complaining, and you’re even begging me… But aren’t you forgetting something baby ?”

His face was already flushed and hot, but at the thought of the words only, he felt his cheeks grow warmer. Jisung never felt any shame in calling you that, but it still got Minho all shy, and it was the very reason why you asked him to do it. Because you loved to see him like that : on his knees for you, totally giving in to you.

“- Please mommy… Touch me…”

The smile stretching your lips was worth it, and even more when he felt your foot caressing his thigh, reaching higher and higher until you pressed lightly against his cock. And the sinful moan Minho let out ravished your ears. Without you needing to ask this time, he dived back into your cunt, and it was your turn to moan loudly, your foot moving deliciously against Minho’s length and your hand still squeezing Jisung’s cock. The three of you were working in sync, your whimpers and whines mixing to create a filthy symphony. 

Jisung was the first to cum, letting out a broken cry of your name as he did so, the sticky substance landing on your cheek and lips. You continued to squeeze his cock, milking him dry and slightly overstimulating him as he was still very sensitive. And seeing him in such a state of desperation paired with Minho’s skilled tongue and fingers pushed you over the edge too. You unconsciously pressed your foot harder against his cock, making him whimper louder, and you felt it twitch before his release was covering your skin just a moment after. 

All of you needed several minutes to come down from your highs, the only sound being your heavy breathings. When you regained enough consciousness to open your eyes again, it was to be struck by the vision of your two boyfriend’s fucked out faces, still in their own little worlds. A mischievous smile blossomed on your face, because you were certainly not finished torturing them now that you discovered how pliant they could be. So you nudged Minho’s face that was still resting against your thigh, getting him to lift his head and look at you with the softest eyes and you almost felt guilty for what you were going to do - almost being the key word.

“- You made a mess baby, didn’t you ?”

Simply looking down at your feet covered in his cum made him hard again. Minho only answered your question with a shaky “yes”. 

“- Then you’re gonna clean it up. Lick it off.”

Without uttering a word, Minho grabbed your ankle to bring your feet to his mouth and he didn’t hesitate to eat his own cum, under Jisung’s intense gaze, who seemed completely out of it. However, all you needed to get his attention back was to point at your cheek that was also covered in cum. In the blink of an eye, he was greedily licking it off of you, and you couldn’t have felt better than with your two men all over you - and it was only the start.

As you layed in bed between Minho and Jisung, you finally felt at peace for the first time since the beginning of this stressful week. You pecked Minho’s forehead and Jisung’s nose before snuggling even closer to them, if that was even possible. 

“- I’m sorry for being so rude, I hope it wasn’t too much.”

Jisung chuckled, his fingers coming down to trace random patterns on the exposed skin of your shoulders. 

“- Don’t worry baby, we would have let you know if it was.”

Minho nobbed at the other boy's words, not lifting his head from where it was nuzzled in your neck. 

“- It was really good actually.”

The warmth radiating from his face was enough of a hint for you to know that he was blushing again, making you smile softly as you closed your eyes, ready to drift to sleep.

“- I missed you even if you’re two little brats.”

And something was telling you that now that they had a taste of your dominant side, they would test your limits even more.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

skz taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@puppy-minnie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls

[hana-no-seiiki]

can we get to know the perverted faculty in midnight darling?

hoo boy. i was gonna make it a stretch goal to include each and every subject mc might get as a biology major in the philippines but have the named ones for now.

warnings: homophobic society, inappropriate teacher/student relationships, age gap, infidelity/adultery, ageism, voyeurism/exhibitionism, sexual and typical yandere themes. dark content. this is a lot smuttier than all of my previous headcannons oh god.

[previous part] — yandere bad boy/jock, good girl, nerd and president.

YANDERE COLLEGE! FACULTY! X POPULAR GIRL! READER [PANGALAWANG YUGTO / SECOND PART]

ELOISE MORIN - PHYSICS TEACHER

✎ Eloise Morin was always drawn to you. You stuck out like sore thumb in her long list of faces she had to memorize every year and was the only time she ever broke a rule. The rule being to never fall in love with one of her students.

✎ It all started with the pairing of her sister, Ella Morin (The Emo! Kid) with you in order to break her out of her shell. The other faculty members seemed to trust you, and you had perfect grades.

✎ Sometimes your harem regrets always cleaning your record with how much the professors called upon you for tasks, thus reducing your time with them.

✎ And it worked, Ella’s grades improved and the sisters’s home life was better. They started actually talking during meals. She just seemed so much happier.

✎ Eloise soon found out it wasn’t because you were friends, it was moreso that you’d relieve Ella of stress when she acted to your whims.

✎ The woman could never forget the time she caught you eating out her little sister after a study session. In her own damn home.

✎ She was confused. Any responsible teacher and guardian would put a stop to this, right? But she found herself welcoming you in every time. Ignoring your disheveled look after ‘hanging out’ with Ella. Always treating you well so you’d be incentivized to come again and again into her home.

✎ So she can watch you defiling her baby sister as she touched herself to sounds of your moans.

✎Her horny levels are pretty terrible for an adult. Eloise was brought up to be a stout, pious woman. Never to have any sexual relations before marriage, much less the same gender. She was never attracted to the men around her and through you she finally knew why.

✎ She has yet to explore her likes and dislikes but what she does know is that merely seeing you gets her absolutely dripping in arousal. She fantasizes day in and out about what you could do to her and where you could do it.

✎On her sister’s bed? The Kitchen counter as she cooked dinner for you whenever you stayed for the night? In front of the class as she teaches? On the desk of that damn principal that kept creeping on you?

✎The only thing stopping her from pouncing on you is guilt. Guilt that she’s attracted to a person much younger than her. A woman no less. What would her parents think? Sure, they’re dead. But Eloise can still imagine the disappointment they’d show if she gave into these lustful urges.

✎What Popular! Reader thinks of her : Like many of your teachers and fellow students. You see her as a means to an end. However, unlike the rest of them, Eloise does interest you the most. You’re waiting to see the moment she snaps. Ready to taint her with your colors.

AMELIA YORKSHIRE - LINGUISTICS TEACHER

✎ Amelia is the eldest teacher in the staff list. She’s a triple divorcee with a child from each husband.

✎ She craves male approval and used to work with Ricardo to bring you down a peg. Before you came in, she was known to harass her male students and show a little too much skin that it was unprofessional at best.

✎ She quickly switched to the other side after a private one-on-one exam with you.

✎ Not only did you get a perfect score in that test, you also managed to give her a better orgasm than all her husbands combined.

✎Also uses her family to get you closer. This time more intentionally. C’mon don’t you just love children? Aren’t hers the cutest?

✎She doesn’t make it discreet when it comes to her more perverted side. Often shoving her cleavage to your face when in class.

✎Tried using another student to make you jealous and that only made you turned off.

✎Is currently desperately trying to earn your attention back. At this point she might as well wear nothing to school.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of her: You aren’t the type to slut shame. That would be quite hypocritical of you to do. But a professor obviously perving on her students was kind of baffling. She left little to the imagination, so after your first romp with Amelia you basically never touched her again. Unknowingly making her obsession worse.

✎ Hers was a minor subject anyways, so you didn’t put that much effort into humoring her. She was a great fuck though.

MARX ESGUERRA - BIOLOGY TEACHER

✎ Now Marx was a different story entirely. Unlike your more lowkey teasing with Eloise and disinterest with Amelia. It was well-known throughout the campus of your interest with the Biology teacher.

✎ It took a while to get into his pants. Marx was known to be even worse than Eloise when it came to how strict he was with himself and his students. He was teaching a new generation of healthcare workers after all.

✎ At least that’s what you thought. You didn’t realize it was because he was studying the best way to approach you.

✎ Marx thought of you of you as perfect. He knew what he wanted and what he wanted was for you to stay by his side. Permanently. He didn’t want a shallow connection like you had with Amelia and Justin.

✎ A perfect student like you deserved a perfect relationship from start to finish. And he’ll make sure to give you that.

✎ He expects you to be completely immaculate. He has an image of you that you have to follow. He’ll drill it into your mind if he has to. A perfect man needs a perfect spouse. He’ll never settle for less. He’ll wipe all those filthy hook-ups you’ve made from history. Besides you were just practicing for him, were you not? The rumors about your supposed interest in him do no good to stifle his delusions.

✎ He bumps your grades just a little bit after your dalliances to give the impression that he definitely does not want you just for the sex.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: A total snob. But you do what you must to gain perfect grades and better opportunities for yourself. Even if it means sleeping with that narcissistic man that kept staring holes into your body.

DANIEL CRUZ - THE PRINCIPAL

✎ This man is the very definition of corrupt. He knows of every dirty little secret that has happened in the school grounds and beyond and gets paid handsomely to hide that.

✎ Thus, he’s great at hiding your little relationship with him. From the school and his older wife.

✎ You were his secret as much as he was yours.

✎ You were just so much more beautiful, younger, tighter, than that stupid woman. He only wanted her when he was younger because she looked hot back then but age wasn’t so kind. After she got pregnant with his children she started showing signs of being grotesque so he often brought home other women to their marital bed. He just couldn’t get it hard with her for the life of him.

✎The wife is unfortunately used to his ways.

✎ Ever since you though, she noticed how he brought home less and less different women. Up until it was just you. She didn’t know if it was a relief or a more terrible sign that he’d actually fallen in love with a sidepiece.

✎ She didn’t know how to feel whenever you exited her own room after a night with her husband. A sorry look on your pretty features gave her a mix of anger for you pitying her and relief that whatever her husband felt, at least it wasn’t reciprocated.

✎ Other than his wife and perhaps even children (oh god) however, no one knows of your relationship with him. Not even Ricardo and he knows the most about you.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: Despite what many thought of you, you viewed marriage as sacred. You only ‘cheated’ on Justin because you didn’t want him to get killed. Once a promise is made it best be kept and treasured.

✎ And Daniel broke the most beautiful promise of them all.

✎ He’s one of the few people you actually strongly felt for. Unfortunately for him, it’s disdain.

A/N : This is the most filthiest thing I’ve written on this blog so far. I need to take a bath of holy water after this.

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Ternion Part III

Kishibe x Reader x Aki Hayakawa SMUT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI

Ao3, Part 1, Part 2

Your messy office romance comes to its tipping point. CW: sex, oral, threesome, SPIT, degrading language, people getting sweaty and nasty in general, cum swapping, a lot of cum period, A LOT.

11k words (whoops:p) I hope you guys like the way things wrap up! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying, and for being patient with me getting this part out, I moved and I only just had time to write! But I made it extra long and extra nasty!

The commute to work was unusually quiet, Hayakawa wasn’t much of a talker, the two of you would often pass the time in comfortable silence, or he would listen as you spoke whatever was on your mind. It was routine for the morning after he would spend the night with you to pass in a blissful silence until you stepped onto the train that would take you further into the city and to your office, more often than not you would begin to see coworkers on the train, thus marking the end of your private ceremony, and the reintroduction of professionalism. But this morning the silence was welcome as your mind was cacophonous. The lack of conversation between yourself and Aki on the way to the convenience store, and to the train, was unnoticeable over your racing mind. 

You knew what Aki sounded like when he moaned, you knew what he sounded like when he was pleasuring himself, you knew what you had heard. What you couldn’t make sense of was the subject of his morning fantasy. Captain was a title that belonged to plenty of people, division captains, ship captains, captains of sport teams…but any futile attempt at excuse was blotted out by the ink stain of logic telling you that you knew exactly which captain he was picturing. Kishibe. 

You had your coffee, changed his bandage, walked side by side, entered the train station all with sparse conversation. Aki paid for your breakfast, you objected but he insisted. You watched him closely as he scanned the selection of grab and go breakfast items, already having poured himself a to go cup of coffee to drink on the rest of the journey. His manner seemed even and measured, as it always did. Your silence not phasing him, it was annoying. You wanted to see him get hot, get nervous under your gaze, to wonder if you had heard or if you knew. You wanted to know what he was imagining. Before you could break him down further, you arrived outside the train station. 

You still had ten minutes before your train was supposed to arrive, Aki peeled off to the side, pulling two cigarettes from his pack, making a mental note to buy more soon. He should have, at the convenience store but it slipped his mind, he had been too focused on staying as neutral faced as possible as nervous sweat trickled under his collar. He could feel your eyes hot on him all morning. You had been assessing him since he got out of the shower. Cleaning his cut, you had been nearly silent. Replacing the bandage, you had been pretty focused but had spared enough mental space to watch him out of the corner of your eye. Even when he tied your tie for you, although you claim to be able to do it yourself, and yet always ask him for his help to get it straight, you had stayed quiet until the moment he slide the knot up to your throat, at which point you thanked him and finished tightening it the rest of the way yourself. The mug of coffee had appeared in the bathroom this morning, it could have been placed in there by you at any point. It didn’t necessarily mean that you had overheard him. And if you had, why wouldn’t you just say something? Although, that made him quite the hypocrite because why wouldn’t he just tell you he wanted to see, he wanted to watch, he wanted to be involved. This whole chaos with himself and you and Kishibe had brought the voyeur out of him in a way he hadn’t known existed. After succumbing to his own temptation in the shower, he realized that the only way to free himself from the constant, deeply distracting, stream of lewd acts performed by you and Kishibe in his own imagination would be to sate the curiosity. If he could see he wouldn’t have to wonder any longer, he would know. But he wasn’t yet ready to voice that to you. What if you thought he was weird or a pervert? Maybe he was weird and a pervert. Maybe he should be more concerned with what wanting to watch his (kind of?) girlfriend be ravished by your shared mentor says about him. After all he had come into the arrangement the latest, from the sound of it, wouldn’t it be natural for him to be curious about what the stasis prior to his addition looked like, if there even was one?

Standing next to you, his cigarette nearing the filter, he decided to finally speak up, “Thank you for having me over last night. I had a good time.” 

So benign, your eye twitched at how casual he was acting. 

“Me too. Thank you for dinner, and breakfast.”

He nodded, ashing his cigarette and tossing it into a nearby trash bin, you did the same. Aki looked around briefly, seeing that no mutual friends of yours were around before cupping one cheek and kissing you softly. It was a brazen move from him, entirely unexpected, you didn’t think he was the PDA type, granted you had never given him the opportunity. Your eyes remained open as he pulled away from the kiss and met your gaze with a small smile. Despite the questions churning in your mind, you smiled. He was so much more thoughtful than he let on. You had had a wonderful night with him, you loved seeing him be so sensitive and talking with him so easily. Aki was so easy to be with, you would get this secret out of him eventually. 

You ran into coworkers on the train, smiling and greeting them casually and happily, expressing gratitude for the coming weekend, listening to complaints about recent jobs and sharing your own. To the outsider’s eye there was no special connection between yourself and Aki, but between the two of you there was a spider silk invisible string pulling you together. Hands on the same stability bar, although many inches apart, side glances never quite lining up. Your chest warmed as you remembered the feeling of his lips on your neck, his hands on your back. You shared one last moment of knowing eye contact, hopefully imperceptible, before you split off from the group toward your office. 

Kobeni hadn’t arrived yet, you had the office to yourself. You settled in for the day, sinking into your chair, dropping your bag at your side, running your hands over your face, careful not to disrupt your makeup. It isn’t until the sound of paper smacking down onto your desk jostles you awake that you sit up and uncover your eyes. Looking down to the origin point of the sound you saw an envelope, just barely open, with two rectangular cards sticking out. Kishibe stood next to your desk, already tipping his flask into his coffee, not watching you. You picked up the envelope and pulled out its contents.

Two tickets, to a play, tomorrow night. 

“What the fuck is this?” Your face scrunched up. 

“I was recently made aware that I don’t do things for you. While I find that to be bullshit, here you go.” He still hadn’t looked at you, instead focusing on screwing his flask closed. 

Breaking from your stare at the tickets in front of you, you looked up at him. 

Kishibe blew on his coffee and met your eyes, “What do you say? Curtain’s at 7:30.”

“You want to take me on a date?”  You hoped you didn’t sound as shocked as you felt, although you certainly did. 

“If you want to call it that, that’s fine. After the play we can resume our usual routine.” Kishibe’s face was stone. Unreadable and incomprehensible. 

Still working through the puzzle in your mind you pushed further, “And this certainly wouldn’t have anything to do with you being jealous of Hayakawa, right?”

Kishibe hissed, annoyed, “you said I don’t do things for you. I’ve organized something, you like plays right? Movies and stuff? I listen sometimes. Do you want to go or not?”

You softened, he was trying…really trying. He even chose a play by a playwright you liked. So what if it was brought on by jealousy, and he was being kind of a tool about it as a gesture? He was trying. 

“I’d love to go.” You smiled warmly, standing to lean close to his chest, “Thank you for inviting me, should I meet you at the theatre? Or will you pick me up?”

He looked down at you, a smug smile just barely curling his lips, “I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go to dinner and then after we’ll have drinks at your place, how does that sound?”

You leaned into him further, “Then it's a date. I’ll see you tonight.”

Kishibe nodded, pleased with himself, although a bit forlorn without a kiss as a reward. He guessed getting caught yesterday had made you more cautious. That is…if Hayakawa mentioned it. He left your office and made his way into the breakroom, it was there that he found the exact mark he was looking for. Tall, lean, face unmoving and unreadable, dumb little ponytail and all, Aki Hayakawa stood at the coffee machine. He hadn't yet seen Kishibe come into space. The room itself was small, space along one wall from a refrigerator and about three feet of countertop. Two metal tables sat closer to the door, a vending machine full of snacks and drinks along the back wall. As of now the only people inside were himself and Hayakawa, so he shut the door behind him and locked it. 

It was the click of the lock that turned Aki’s face toward the door, toward the Captain. Who crossed his arms and leaned back against the now sealed door. Aki tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, swallowing the lump in his throat and turning back to the coffee he prepared in front of him. Neither man spoke, Kishibe watched as Aki stirred his coffee seemingly endlessly, Aki didn't dare look back at him. The clock on the wall clicked loudly as the seconds…minutes…passed. Kishibe took this time to scan over the youngerman. He remembered training him just a few years ago, all attitude and tragedy. He reminded him of himself at that age, obsessed with his own misery, pretending that no one could ever possibly understand the complexities of his life because he was the only person in the world that mattered….blah blah blah. He wasn’t ugly, not even close, Kishibe could see a world in which a guy like Aki was called pretty, even. For the first time without anger, with only curiosity, he allowed himself to imagine what the two of you looked like in bed together. Aki’s long fingers around your neck, pressing on your shoulders, your own plump lips marking his neck, just under his uniform collar. He wondered, and then pictured for himself, how well Aki would fill your mouth, if he pulled at your hair, or thanked you as you pleasured him. The image was nice, Kishibe loved watching you when you sucked his cock, it was nice to imagine it from a better vantage point. Kishibe watched as the sternocleidomastoid muscle in the side of Hayakawa’s neck flexed and settled once again, stirring around and around. 

“Did you enjoy the show yesterday?” Kishibe finally broke the silence. 

Aki’s hands stopped circling the wooden stir stick, his eyes left the cup and moved up to the lit display of lattes and coffees showcased on the front of the machine. He chose to stay silent until he could collect his racing thoughts, parsing out exactly how honest he should be, or if he should keep his cards close to his chest. 

Kishibe crossed the room in three long legged steps, squeezing next to Aki in front of the machine. Aki watched as one of Kishibe’s large hands pulled a paper coffee cup from the stack and replaced Aki’s under the nozzle, punching a few buttons to spur the dark liquid forward. They were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Kishibe had a few inches on Aki, despite him being a tall man himself. Aki kept his eyes still, using the periphery of his vision to assess Kishibe’s body language. His chest was rising and lowering easily, his coat swished behind him as he moved. Aki couldn’t hear his breath, but he could smell the scent of whiskey and mint mixed together in a boozy sweet combination. Kishibe pulled the full cup and sipped it, leaning against the counter to face Aki now. 

“Well? I hope I didn’t mess up your date night.” Kishsibe mumbled into his cup, not bothering to make eye contact. 

Finally Aki spoke up, “You didn’t. We had a nice night. Sounds like you had a rough one.” 

Kishisbe’s eyebrows shot up, the shadow a pleased smile coloring his expression, “Oh? She tell you that?”

“She might have mentioned it.” Aki shrugged, feeling emboldened. 

Kishibe looked over the man in front of him, seeing the shimmer of pride and excitement inside of his dark blue eyes, it stirred something deep in his gut. Competition, maybe? Pride? Something else?

Kishibe shrugged, pulling his flask from his pocket, unscrewing it and tipping it into his coffee, “Good. I trust she enjoyed herself?” 

Aki felt the same fire filling his own gut, still holding back the smile of pride, “Twice.”

Silence fell between the two men, Kishibe met Hayakawa’s eyes once again. The stare lingered. The clock ticked loudly. The coffee machine ran an automatic cleaning cycle. Aki studied his face closely. The dark shark's eyes looking back at him, his high carved cheekbones, the stubble-shadowed jaw clenching and unclenching. He found himself stuck on the older man’s lips, he had never noticed before how full and shapely they were, a perfectly defined cupid’s bow, a soft pink shade, a healing split on the lower lip, his famous scar extending the opposite side slightly. Images of his own design flooded his mind, repeating his torment from the previous night. He hadn’t expected to confront this head on so quickly, especially after this morning, what was Kishibe’s goal, to intimidate him into giving up? 

“You interrogate all her partners like this? Or am I just special?” Aki allowed himself to bite back, testing the waters. 

Again Kishibe felt a turn in his gut, a hard beat in his chest. This kid was getting a bit too comfortable, he needed to regain control. He needed to strike now. 

He stepped forward, now towering over the younger hunter, “Listen, I’m going to be frank with you. I think you liked what you saw yesterday, what do you think she thought?”

Aki felt his breath catch in his throat, leaning back as Kishibe leaned closer to him. Before he could stammer out and answer, Aki felt Kishibe’s hand slip something against his own hand. 

“I’m taking her out tonight. If I’m right, then maybe we can find something that works for all three of us. What do you think…Aki?” His dark eyes bore into Aki’s own. 

Aki couldn't help it, his jaw fell agape, he could smell Kishibe’s cologne, he could see the pores on his cheeks and nose, he could see the slight bloodshot vignette around his irises. His heart was pounding, he thought his pulse might spill out of his neck. Kishibe’s eyes flicked down to Aki’s mouth, studying the way his lips had fallen open, the reflection of light on his wet tongue, he could see that he had a filling on one of his back molars, he was noticing a lot of things about Aki that he never had before. Like how his breath had stopped completely, how his eyes had blown wide, how his hair was slightly damp and smelled just the slightest bit like the rosemary of your shampoo. He watched as Aki’s lower lip trembled slightly. Kishibe allowed a full smile to split his face. Aki didn’t know if he had ever seen his mentor smile like this. 

“Yeah, I thought as much.” Kishibe teased leaning just a hair closer before pulling away and turning toward the door. 

Aki held his breath as Kishibe left the room, leaving the door open behind him. Finally a series of shaky breaths refilled his lungs as he shuddered. Gripping the countertop under his hand, he heard the crinkle of paper, reminding him of what Kishibe had given him. Aki looked down to see a single ticket to a play, tonight. 

What the hell? 

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, lamenting your past self for not investing in a full body mirror earlier. You struggled to see the hem of your dress and the style of your hair at the same Still, You felt beautiful, it wasn't often that you were able to dress up and go out to enjoy yourself. It was how you ended up dating two of your coworkers, they were nearly all the men you saw.

Your head felt light, the glass of wine you had while getting ready was starting to work its magic over your nerves. You weren’t sure what to expect from the date tonight, you had never been on a date with Kishibe before, you had spent countless hours alone with him over the last few months, but the atmosphere of a date had you rethinking everything from your conversation to how to hold your hands. And then there was Aki, whose moans still rung in your ears, still clung to the walls of your shower. You hadn’t spoken to him much today at work, which wasn’t unusual but suddenly felt pointed and intentional. He was busy and in the field most of the day, Kishibe was…well you weren’t sure exactly where he had been all day, you had seen him briefly in the morning but not since. It had been a very productive day at work, for once. 

Just after 5:30 a knock brought you to the door. Kishibe stood at the other side, stamping out a cigarette as you answered the door. He had maybe dressed up, although seeing him in a suit and tie every day did take some of the luster out of it although…no tie. In his hands, where he usually held a bottle of wine, he held two, a red and a white. 

“Hey, kid.” he looked pleased to see you, his eyes moving over your body in a fraction of a second before smiling, “You look beautiful.”

You were impressed, “wow, No comment about how my tits are half out?”

Kishibe shrugged, ducking under your doorframe to enter your apartment, catching your lips in a soft kiss of greeting as he moved past you to place the bottles on your kitchen counter, “Why would I complain about that? If I had it my way, they’d be out all night. But I suppose your perfect tits would distract from the play, and we can’t have that.” 

He put the white wine in the fridge before straightening up and turning back to you, “You really do look divine.” 

You blushed, you felt the blush color your chest and neck, “Thank you. You look nice too.” 

The idea of a date had sucked some of the monotony and the comfort out of your interactions with him. Where you usually felt a routine sexual freedom, you now felt insecure and unsure of yourself. Noticing your shifting legs and busy hands Kishibe approached you, taking your face in his big hands. 

“You nervous?” He hummed at you. 

You sighed into his touch, “A little. I never really expected we would do something like this.” 

Kishibe nodded, leaning in to kiss you sweetly. One of his hands moved to hold the back of your neck while the other moved down to your waist, he pulled you closer and your own hands grasped for purchase around his biceps and shoulder. The kiss deepened, his tongue slipped into your mouth. A heavenly moan fluttered from you and into his ear. He gripped you tighter, pressing his body against yours. Finally you broke away to catch your breath.

“Don’t try to distract me, you promised me quite the night. I will be holding you to that.” you flirted, pulling his strong arms off of you and leading him out the door. 

“Oh don’t worry. I think you’ll like what I have planned.” Kishibe smiled his small sly smile and followed you out. 

You two shared a lovely dinner at a nice restaurant just a few blocks form the theatre. A few drinks each, a few more for him, a cigarette after dinner over a cup of coffee. One of life’s greatest luxuries was an after dinner coffee and cigarette, it made you feel secure and celebrated. Kishibe had been a consummate gentleman all evening, opening your doors, not being a dick to the waiter, even pulling your chair out for you. He really did seem to be on his best behavior tonight. The food had been alright, nothing life altering but his company made it into a magical night. You never expected to know what it felt like to sit across from him at a candle lit dinner, you never expected to catch him gazing at you with his head resting lazily in his hand as you ordered another round of drinks. He opened up a bit, giving you answers to questions he usually would have shrugged off, questions about his past, his family. You felt touched that he was putting so much effort into tonight. The doubts from the previous night about your relationship, whatever form it took were quickly extinguished. 

Standing outside the restaurant, finishing the last drag of your cigarette, Kishibe checked his watch. 

“We should get to the theatre.” He led you down the path with one hand on your mid back. 

The theatre itself was gorgeous, high decorated ceilings befitting of an opera house, well dressed patrons of the arts bustling around getting drinks and finding their seats. Kishibe walked straight up to the bar, getting drinks for the pair of you. You noticed how often people turned to look at him, he was certainly an imposing figure at nearly six and a half feet tall, obviously the large scour along his face brought wandering eyes, but there was something truly…magnetic about him. You had experienced it when you first met Kishibe, you were drawn to him almost instantly. Something about the dark eyes filled to the brim with knowledge and experience that remained untapped by the average person. He was a challenge to those around him, a puzzle to be put together and explained. But he never offered enough of himself to give anyone the chance. Even at this stage, you were just barely close. 

He handed you your drink and paid the bartender before taking you further inside to find your seats. You were seated fairly close to the front, maybe six or seven rows back, the house was raked slightly, meaning the stage was on a lower plane than the audience. You had a nearly perfect view. 

“Wow, you really sprung for the good seats, huh?” you were awestruck as you side-stepped into your seat behind him. 

Kishibe shrugged and sat down, “You think we can smoke in here?” 

You laughed, smacking his shoulder lightly as you sat down to the right of him. You studied the playbill in your hand familiarizing yourself with the names of the actors you were about to see, reading the small biographies they had each written. Kishibe seemed content to lean back in his seat and sip on his drink, you weren’t keeping track of how often he seemed to check the entrances. You leaned into his side, he wrapped an arm around your back, you felt the pre-show excitement building in you. You tilted your face up to his, smiling warmly.

“Thanks for taking me, Kishi. This has been really lovely.” You leaned in and kissed him, one hand holding his jaw. 

Kishibe’s fingers circle the exposed skin in the center of your back. When you pulled away you saw Kishibe looking above your head and smiling. A new smile, a confident, pleased but surprised smile. You turned around and your heart stopped seeing Aki Hayakawa standing in front of the open seat next to you. 

“Aki!” You shot up in your chair, vertebrae stacking on each other perfectly straight.   

“Hayakawa.” Kishibe waved with the hand that was around the back of your chair.

Aki cleared his throat, he had worn brown dress pants, a dark blue sweater over a white button up shirt, his hair was up, and despite the blush rising in his cheeks he tried his best to look relaxed. You felt caught, like in one of those dreams where you have to give a presentation on a topic you have no knowledge of and to make matters worse you're naked. You and Hayakawa had only just talked about the relationship between yourself and Kishibe, and here you were flaunting it right in front of him. Your dress felt too revealing, his hand on your back felt too intimate, your makeup was likely smudged from kissing, oh god you were just kissing him. 

“Hello.” He waved but forgot to smile, and then smiled just a second too late to be convincing. 

“I didn’t know you liked the theatre, Hayakawa.” Kishibe’s voice was smooth and even, he may as well have been laughing. 

You felt suspicion starting to rise in you. How could this have happened? What were the odds of Aki coming to this play on this night, the very same day Kishibe takes you? 

Aki swallowed and sat in the empty seat to your right, “Oh well, I like to try new things…when I can.” 

You took a deep breath, too consumed with leveling out your own reaction to see Kishibe’s nod of approval. 

“Aki, I really didn’t expect to see you here…I-” You stammered, but before you could complete your thought the house lights began to dim. 

“Baby, the play is starting.” Kishibe playfully put a finger up to his lips.

You tore your wide eyes away from Aki as the stage lights began to warm, you tried and failed to pay attention to the opening scene of the play, the feeling of being sat right in between your two lovers becoming too much. Kishibe kept his hand on your back, fingers petting you occasionally. Your breath was staggering, you tried to focus on inhaling and exhaling at a regular pace, at this point the action of the play was so far out of your focus it may as well have been happening in another room. Aki’s leg was pressing up your own, no matter how much you tried to pull your legs together more and more, crossing and uncrossing them to the point that Kishibe removed his hand from your back and covered your left thigh with his big, rough palm. Turning his head to catch your eye and squeeze your leg lightly, assuring you that it would be fine, encouraging you to relax. You sighed out a breath, refocusing on the play. You really had wanted to see this play, and you were happy to be here with Kishibe. Aki would just have to wait.   

With your eyes glued to the stage, you didn’t see Kishibe lean his head back to catch Aki’s eye. A non verbal directive took place, and Aki was eager to follow instructions, to show that he could follow Kishibe’s lead. Seeing Kishibe’s hand on your leg, mindlessly thumbing circles into your skin, Aki decided to loop his arm around the back of your chair, not right up against your skin, close but far enough that you would maybe think he just needed to spread out in a crowded theater. Kishibe nodded, facing the stage, but intentioned toward Aki. You had not yet noticed the presence of Aki’s arm, it wasn't until he slid it closer, and then closer again, until his hand was draped over your opposite shoulder, that you even thought anything of it. 

You tore your eyes away from the play looking at Aki, who did not smile but gave you one of those loaded, flirtatious looks that he knew could make you melt. You gave him a pleading look, only to have your attention summoned by the man on the other side of you moving his hand up your leg, just under the hem of your skirt. Your skin started to feel hot, it was just beginning to dawn on you that you had been had. But it still felt too bizarre to believe, how…when would they have coordinated this? Thank god the house lights were dark and neither man nor the full audience could see how red you must be. Aki trailed the tips of his fingers down the top of your arm, goosebumps appearing in their wake. Kishibe’s thumb kept circling on the soft skin of your thigh. You stole a glance in his direction only to see the benevolent, almost bored expression he always carried. He wasn’t even looking at you, did he see what Aki was doing? 

Oh he saw, and he saw you peek at him. He kept his face even as you looked, not missing the look of confusion that crossed your features. Part of him could have felt bad, if he were under the impression you wanted this any less than he did. He saw you melt under Aki’s gaze, felt you shiver as the younger man touched you, and he was almost impressed. Proud, maybe? At the effect his protege could have over you. When you looked back to the play and settled, Kishibe felt Aki’s eyes on him. He dared to meet his gaze. Aki’s eyes were filled with danger, Kishibe couldn’t wait to see what the kid was going to do next. 

But he couldn’t have predicted, nor could you, honestly nor could Aki, that his next move would be to move his hand from brushing up and down your arm to wrap around the front Kishibe’s bicep. A shared lightning bolt jolted the three of you to stillness. Aki was the only one fighting to remain cool, he gripped Kishibe’s upper arm, giving it a small squeeze.

 He wasn’t sure the last time he had actually touched his trainer, had it really been since then? When he had trained him. Years? Kishibe’s skin was warm under his shirt, the arm Aki held was connected to the hand that rested on your thigh, the muscle inside was hard and ropey. Aki wasn’t unfamiliar with the feel of Kishibe’s strength, after the sixth or seventh knock out, you remember what those hands can do. This new, softer touch was what felt unfamiliar. Aki having his hands on the other man’s body, not being pulled away from and having to duck a counter, in fact, he thought he felt the tense muscle soften under his hand. 

You had officially been had, they had unionized against you. Or in favor of you? You still weren’t sure the motive behind their sneak attack. But you would also be mistaken to ignore the way Kishibe’s hand clenched around your thigh when Aki touched him, and how it relaxed skin afterwards. How much of this actually was premeditated? Testing the waters, no longer feeling like the odd man out, you took matters into your own hands. Literally. In your right hand you mirrored Kishibe’s hold on your leg just above Aki’s knee. In your left you tangled your fingers with Kishibe’s. The collective of you settled deeper into your seats. Kishibe squeezed your hand, leaning closer to you. Each point of contact was electrified: Aki around your back, your hand on his leg, Kishibe’s hold on your other hand, Aki’s hand on his arm. A complete circuit sending energy between each of you, the shared electricity of what could come next. 

The play continued on. Thankfully there was no intermission, you weren’t ready to face your partners yet, unsure if house lights would awaken inhibitions that had been released in the dark. When it finally ended, the actors taking their bows, you removed your hold on your partners, using them instead to applaud. Soon the stage was cleared, the audiences began to empty from the rows of seats, you sat in your trio, unsure of what to do next. 

Naturally, Kishibe was the first to stand, stretching slightly before offering his hand to you. 

“Well, Darling. You ready?” 

You looked up at him, still feeling the static that sparkled in your body. You stood up with the help of his hand, legs unsteady. Kishibe smiled down at you, looping one arm around your waist, leaning down to kiss the side of your head. Your usual instincts kicked in, shying from the PDA in front of someone you knew, forgetting momentarily the strange behavior exhibited during the show. 

“Did you like the play?” Kishibe asked, a smug smile coloring his question. 

The play on stage? The play between the three of you? Either way…

“I did. Thank you, Kishibe. This has been a…surprising evening.” you looked back at Aki, who was standing from his seat, resolve starting to give way to doubt. 

You could see a touch of pink underneath the collar of his shirt, you were unsure when he had undone the first few buttons. He shifted his weight between long legs in the tight aisle. Again, Kishibe took charge of the next phase. 

“We’ve got some wine back at her place,” Aki began to nod, understanding that the trial was over, suspecting he may have overshot.

“Why don’t you come back with us? Have a drink.” Aki’s ears perked up at the invitation, yours did as well. 

You looked up at Kishibe, to find him smiling down at you, a devious look in his eye. 

Your newfound trio made its way to your apartment calmly, discussing the plot of the play although all three of you seemed to have memory gaps of the middle. Aki lit a cigarette on the walk, offering drags to you, which you happily accepted. The flood of nicotine filling the anxious places in your mind with a head rush. It wasn’t until you went to unlock the door that you realized your hands were shaking. Aki noticed too, taking the keys from your fumbling fingers after your second attempt and sliding the key in the lock smoothly. You whispered a small thank you as he opened the door and the three of you moved inside. 

It was surreal to see them both here at once. Individually they had been here plenty of times, interacting with items in your kitchen and living area routinely. Aki in the kitchen, Kishibe in the liquor cabinet or on your couch, Aki on the patio moving your ashtray from inside to outside and back again, Kishibe pillaging your bookshelf for something to keep himself occupied as you showered. But together, this was completely new terrain, and it showed, in their attempts to make themselves (and you) comfortable, their paths criss crossed and collided. When you went to open the wine, they both offered to do it for you, but you took it upon yourself to do it. 

“Red or White?” You asked, brandishing the two bottles Kishibe brought when he picked you up. 

Kishibe turned his eyes to Aki, “Aki, what do you prefer? I assumed you preferred red wine, but it looks like that may not be the case?” 

Aki looked puzzled for a moment then his expression cleared, “I like both. Red wine, white wine, it doesn’t really matter to me.” 

He cocked his head at Kishibe, eyes focused and studying.

“What about you? I was under the impression that you also preferred red wine, you didn’t really seem like a…white wine…kind of guy.” 

Kishibe shrugged, “I usually drink red. But I acquired a taste for white when I was younger, once you take a liking to it… you can kind of always go back to it. Especially if it's a…quality white. And it pairs nicely with an excellent red.” he smiled at you with his dark predatory gaze. 

You decided to open the white, craving something to cool your quickly heating skin. As you poured three generous glasses, the two men took seats around your small dining table across from one another. You joined them, serving them their drinks, pulling a chair around to the head of the table and taking a seat. The three of you sat, sipping intermittently, glancing back and forth between one another. The air began to feel like molasses, hot and sticky and painfully still. The revving energy from the theater had vacated and now a standoff took its place. 

You were the one to break the silence this time, “So when did you two come up with this little plan? It came together awfully quick. It hasn't even been twenty four hours since Aki was fantasizing in my shower about this exact scenario.” You leaned back in your chair. 

Aki made a small choked sound, his jaw hanging open, his eyes wide. Kishibe sipped his wine, pleased with the news. 

“I spoke to Hayakawa today about joining us,” Kishibe answered voice as even as ever, “at the play, I mean. I figured whatever happened after that was kismet.” 

“Ah, so this was a coordinated attack.” You nodded, tipping your glass once more into your mouth. 

“Attack feels pointed. But Coordinated, sure.” Kishibe shrugged. 

You hummed, processing into your glass, “So what’s next? Kismet, I understand, but what was your plan?”

Kishibe and Aki exchanged a look. 

Aki shook his head, “No plan. He just gave me the ticket and told me to come. I didn’t even really know if you would be there, I half expected I would show up and he would try to kick my ass.” 

“So neither of you planned how this would go?” They nodded, you smiled, “You’ve given me a lot of power here, gentlemen, I appreciate that.” 

You stood from your chair, the cry of the legs against the wood floor ringing in your tipsy ears. You crossed around to Kishibe, taking a seat in his lap, instantly his hands found your waist and pulled you closer. You made sure to keep the sightline open as you leaned in and kissed Kishibe hard and wet on the mouth. Aki shifted his hips in the chair, feeling his pants tighten and his skin go cold. He could see Kishibe’s tongue slide between your lips, massaging against your own. He felt his own mouth fill with saliva, his chest tighten and breath catch.

“Aki…”your voice dripped from you salaciously, still nose to nose with Kishibe, “I know you’re curious. Tell me what you’ve been picturing.” 

It took Aki several seconds to find his voice, “straddle his leg. I want to see you grind on his thigh.” 

His voice was deeper than you had heard before, and hoarse, as though he had been shouting but he spoke softly, almost inaudibly. You considered teasing him with in, but instead chose to play nice. You rose from Kishibe's lap and turned to face Aki, settling Kishibe’s beefy thigh between your legs. The asshole under you popped his thigh up to surprise you, making you bounce and let out a small squeal. 

“...asshole.” you giggled, leaning back against the wall of muscle that comprised Kishibe's torso, one hand falling back to hold his neck, feeling the cropped hair under your wrist. 

Kishibe’s own hands moved over your body, kneading your chest, hiking your skirt up but not revealing where your panties met his slacks. Grinding yourself down on him, you turned your face, locking him in a kiss once again. You heard Aki suck in a breath. You moaned into the kiss, pleasure coming as much from the feeling of his femoris muscle on your clothed clit, as the knowledge that Aki was watching. Kishibe brought one hand to the front of your dress, pulling the neckline to one side, exposing the soft unlined fabric of your bra to Aki. Of course you had been planning on having sex tonight so you had worn one of your sexier sets, a white lace unlined underwire bra with a matching satin and lace panty that rose high about your hips but remained sheer enough to see what was underneath. This was also Kishibe’s favorite bra of yours, you heard him hiss as he pulled the fabric back. You felt him start to get hard against your back. You ground down further, pulling a wanton moan from you.

“Take your dress off. I want to see everything.” Aki’s voice was firmer now, clearer. 

Kishibe chuckled against the skin of your neck, “You’re boyfriend’s bossy.” 

You smiled and stood, reluctantly pulling your pulsing core off of Kishibe, “He’s not my boyfriend.” 

You slid one shoulder of your dress down, then the other, slipping it down your body and let it pool around your feet. Both men’s eyes licked over your body, Aki leaned back further in his chair, Kishibe undid the buttons of his shirt, eager to follow you. He invited you onto his lap again, and you rejoined him, sliding a hand across his chest, feeling his muscles tense underneath your fingers. Kishibe kissed your neck, tangling his hand in your hair. You resumed your position, staying open to Aki while gyrating on Kishibe’s leg. Kishibe grabbed one of your breasts hard, pinching your nipple into a hard peak. The texture of the lace dug into your sensitive skin under Kishibe's strong hands. You let a haughty moan out into Kishibe’s mouth, the back of your head resting against his shoulder. You could feel yourself getting wetter, a damp spot spreading out on his pants. His other hand moved from your hair down to your neck, squeezing the sides. Your eyes rolled back in your head as the pleasure compounded on itself. Kishibe had started bouncing his own leg, adding to the sensations. Kishsibe watched as you writhed on top of him, releasing your throat momentarily before squeezing again. 

Aki’s pants were cutting off the circulation at this point. He palmed himself over his pants, biting back his own moans at the feeling. The sound of your panting moans, the sight of Kishibe's strong hands keeping you in place by the neck and by the chest. 

“You like what you see, kid?” Kishibe taunted, “You like watching her fuck herself dumb on my leg?”  

A moan slipped from Aki’s mouth as he squeezed himself through his pants. You were close, he could tell, hell-- he could see. Your panties had grown almost completely see through, your slick soaking through, making the fabric cling to the folds and curves of your pussy. 

You whimpered against Kishibe’s choking grasp, “k-kiiishi….” 

KIshibe nodded, taking his hand previously at your chest and sliding it under the hemline of your panties, spreading your lips further and circling your clit. You whined, eyes squeezing closed. Aki couldn't take his eyes away from Kishibe’s thick fingers inside of your panties, touching your dripping pussy, saturating themselves in your wetness, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Think she deserves it, Aki?” Kishibe teased again, you nodded desperately. 

Aki felt his mouth water, the thought of denying you right the edge taking his breath away. But when he caught your misty eyes, he couldn’t go through with it. He stood, crossing around the table and taking your face in his hands.

“Let her cum. She’s a good girl.” He moved a stray hair off of your forehead and leaned down to press his lips against yours. 

It was as though Kishibe flipped a switch, one movement of his fingers was all it took and you were crying out against Aki’s mouth, soaking yourself and Kishibe’s thigh as you came. Aki held you in place, Kishibe’s fingers slowed and stilled, he released your throat. You panted against Aki’s lips, feeling his tongue soft against yours despite the hungry, passionate kiss. You pulled off and turned to lock Kishibe in a grateful, appreciative kiss. Aki’s hands move across your body, cupping your breasts, trailing down your stomach, not yet daring further. Kishibe pulled his hand free, fingers glistening with your cum. He extends them past you to Aki. Your breath hitches as you see Aki lunge forward to catch his fingers in his mouth, tasting your release, feeling Kishibe’s rough fingers against his tongue. He should be embarrassed at the way the sensation brings him to his knees before the two of you, but his mind has been consumed. Its too much, its too obscene, too erotic. He sucks clean Kishibe’s fingers until the older man pulls them away, not missing the way the hunter’s eyes flutter open euphorically. He felt good, having two pretty young things so deliciously at his fingertips, awaiting his every directive. 

“Aki’s waited long enough, don’t you think Sugar?” Kishibe turned your face back toward him, clicking his lips softly, “ Why don’t you take him to your bed?”   

You nodded blissfully, standing up as if by rote, to take Aki’s hand. He followed you drunkenly, the taste of you clinging to his mouth. You two entered your bedroom, feeling like any of your other nights together, the pair of you drinking and stumbling into your bedroom to fool around. 

“You’re wearing too much, Aki. “ You turned and started to pull up his sweater, he raised his arms over his head, allowing you to strip him. 

You continued on, undoing his buttons and pulling the sides of his shirt apart as he started to slip out of his pants. You almost didn't hear him when he spoke up. 

“Are you nervous?” He whispered, midnight eyes searching your face for any hesitation 

“I was, but not anymore.” You smiled back at him, watching him remove his trousers and stand before you in only his briefs. 

Aki has such a wonderful body, creamy soft skin, lean muscle, scars here and there reminding you to treasure the time you’d have with him. You reached up and filled his hair free, letting the layers frame his face and neck perfectly. 

“Are you nervous?” You parroted back to him, reveling in this moment of privacy. 

“A little.” He confessed, “but not with you here.” 

Aki kissed you, soft, then harder. His big arms wrapping around your body, yours encircling his waist. He laid you down on the bed, starting to climb over you. 

“Oh no, pretty boy, you lay back.” Kishibe’s voice rang out from the door frame. He had poured himself a drink and a freshly lit cigarette hung from his lips. 

Aki did as he was told and you took his place, already starting to run your hands over his legs. He twitched under your featherlight touch, you could see his cock straining through his boxers, a dark patch forming on one side where he was leaking. Kishibe’s fingers trailed up your spine, hooking under the clasp of your bra. 

“Look at what you do to him, baby. He like this everytime?” 

You nodded, smiling at Aki’s flustered, reddening face.

“Aki here is my good boy.” You complimented, punctuating your statement with a kiss to his thigh. 

“And what does that make me?” Kishibe leaned down to your ear, his body engulfing you. 

Before you could answer your bra went slack, he had undone it with one hand, the same hand that now covered the expanse of your back in both predatory and soothing totality. 

“You’ve never been a good boy in your life Kishibe.” You giggled, discarding the bra off the side of the bed, breast hanging freely. 

Kishibe bit the side of your ear, moving over your body to lay next to where you kept Aki. He sipped his drink and observed the panting man under you, how he fought not to cover his face, how he twitched and moaned under the slightest touch. Your skilled hands traveled to his waistband. 

“You ready?” You purred, already imagining looking up from Aki’s cock and seeing him writhing next to Kishibe, your cunt dampening. 

Aki shot a glance at Kishibe before nodding feverishly, holding his breath as you pulled the last bit of clothing from him. His cock slapped against his stomach, pink tip weeping before you, veins bulging painfully, balls hanging heavy and full underneath. Feeling merciful you licked a long stripe up from base to tip, clearing his slit of precum, tasting your first of Aki since last night. A shaking moan spilled from his mouth beyond his control. Kishibe watched diligently, a face as neutral as if he were watching the news. He sipped his drink twice more before setting it on the windowsill behind him. 

Aki’s hips shot up as you sucked hard at his tip, but a firm hand pushed his stomach down, pressing him further into the mattress. Aki opened his eyes and saw Kishibe leaning over him. He flicked over each of his fingers in a loop. Kishsibe’s dark, blown out eyes watching him, the scruff along his upper lip and jaw, his wet, swollen lips reddened by kissing you, the few freckles that had never shown themselves to Aki before but now we’re as obvious as the strong straight nose in his face’s center. He pictured Kishibe at his own age, starting his own devil hunting career: softer edges, fuller features, devoid of wrinkle and tear. He saw Kishibe’s tongue move behind his bottom teeth, wet and warm and waiting. 

You pulled the whole of Aki’s length into your mouth, gagging as it met the back of your throat. Aki groaned, straining to arch against Kishibe’s hold. 

“…kiss me…” Aki held himself up with his elbows, trying to meet Kishibe’s eyes. 

For the first time Kishibe looked surprised. 

“Kiss me, please.” Aki begged again. 

You looked up from your place between Aki’s legs just in time to see Kishibe lean down to meet Aki’s desperate reach. He met Aki’s open mouth with his own, the younger man pushing his tongue up to meet his. You felt Aki pulse in yours, you felt a jolt of pleasure resound throughout your own body. Aki whimpered against Kishibe’s kiss, wanting more and more, the second Kishibe hold on his stomach wavered, Aki sat up to kiss back even harder. You saw Aki’s rippling arms flex around Kishibe’s back and neck, watched as Kishibe held Aki’s waist, keeping him down enough to not disrupt your rhythm. You heard Kishibe moan and your eyes caught where Aki was now squeezing his erection. 

“Agh!” Aki cried out, pulling out of the kiss, head flying backwards. 

You circled his head with your tongue, paying special attention to the back of the head, where he was extra sensitive. Aki’s hand moved to your hair, holding it back for you and watched you suck him. Kishibe’s hand joined him, but harsher. 

Kishibe chuckled, “we’re you feeling left out, baby?” 

You gave your best mouth full puppy eyes and nodded. 

“We couldn’t forget about you, could we?” He mocked, sliding his hand down your face and giving you a gentle slap. 

Aki hissed, feeling the impact through your cheek. This brought Kishibe’s attention back to him. Aki looked pathetic, absolutely, deliciously fucked out. His face was flushed, his hair was tangling, he was panting like a dog in heat. Kishibe felt his own cock stirring watching the drool (or maybe his own spit) dribble out of Aki’s mouth. 

“You going to cum, Hayakawa?” Kishibe’s lips ghosted over his neck. 

Aki bit down hard on his lower lip, giving one stiff nod. Kishibe reached one hand down, looking into your focused, watering eyes, and pushed you down further, forcing you to take all of Aki down to the base. You gagged but took in a large breath through your nose, you could feel Aki’s balls clench up just before he cried out.

“Fuck!!” And fill your mouth. 

Kishibe’s switch appeared to work on everyone. 

You swallowed as much of Aki’s cum as you could, but had to pull off before the last few spurts made their way onto your face. Kishibe was quick to catch some on his thumb and taste it for himself. Aki was beside himself. 

“Come here, sugar.” Kishibe ordered and you crawled up and over Aki quickly. 

Kishibe’s long, fat tongue cleaned the rest of Aki’s spent off of your face, collecting it in his own mouth. Aki thought he might faint as he watched Kishibe tilt your head back and a long, cum saturated line of spit fall from his lips onto your waiting tongue. Once you had savored and swallowed, Kishibe kissed you again. Aki thought he kissed you like he loved you, holding you close, taking his time. But it was over soon, and eyes were trained back on him. 

“You’re kind of a pervert,” Kishibe chuckled at Aki, undoing his belt and sliding off his pants and underwear. 

“You’re one to talk.” You smiled, pulling your panties off next to him. 

Kishibe sat up against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap again, “come here.” He muttered as he got you in place. 

Aki saw the smile that took over his mouth as Kishibe settled you on his lap, your back against his chest, his hand pawing all over your body, looking for purchase. 

“You’re not going to warm me up first?” You said in feigning insult. 

Kishibe dipped a finger between your lower lips, and audible smack signaling the presence of one orgasm and one live sex show’s worth of juice.

“I think it’ll fit just fine.” He flirted against your neck, “Hayakawa, once you caught your breath get up here and help, yeah?” 

Aki shot up, ignoring the head rush that accompanied. He was between the stack of your and Kishibe’s legs in an instant. You giggled happily at the way he pushed his hair back dutifully. Kishibe lifted your ass up, giving Aki enough space to reach between your two bodies. 

“Put me inside.” Kishibe ordered. 

Aki held Kishibe’s cock in his hand, feeling the weight, the heat, the girth. Staring at it, he wondered how it was going to fit inside of you, or maybe even inside of himself. It was long, thick, tan, with a reddening tip. The poor thing was so hard he could see the impression of stitching where it had strained against the confines of Kishibe’s pants. 

“Hot, right?” You cooed, looking down at Aki. 

Aki nodded, and remembered the task at hand. He lined up Kishibe’s cock with your hole, spreading your folds apart so he could watch. Slowly, achingly slowly, Kishibe lowered you down onto him. It was the first thing to fill you all evening, he was going slow partially to torture you, but also to ease you into his size. You mewled as he stretched you out, you heard Aki whimper. 

“Take it all, baby. Be a good girl, don’t you want to impress Aki?” Kishibe soothed at your side, kissing your shoulder and neck and ear and anywhere he could reach. 

Taking inch after inch, you gripped Kishibe’s shoulder tightly, squeezing as you struggled to take him unprepped. You really thought your previous orgasm would have been enough, but he had you sweating and arching off his chest before your hips finally met his again. 

Aki’s cock stood at attention, revitalized by the obscene sight before him. Kishibe groaned out as he bottomed out, Aki could see the faintest bulge of your pelvis when you leaned back, his dick weeping out more precum in response. Seeing you writhing above him, desperate for the pain to give way to pleasure, Aki lunged forward to help where he could. He closed his mouth around your swollen clitoris, lapping in gentle circles. Your scrunched up expression softened into a euphoric one. Kishibe brought his hands to your chest, pawing at your tits, circling your nipples, muttering into your neck. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight. Relax, let me in, baby.” He was babbling, panting against your back. 

You moaned out as Aki swirled his tongue in a larger circle, sucking harder. Kishibe’s legs jerked as he felt the sensation of Aki’s tongue swipe across the bottom of his shaft, right where the two of you were joined. You started to rock your hips into Aki’s mouth, grinding down further on Kishibe’s cock, making you both whine. The man under you pulled his hips back and thrust upward again, a testing, experimental thrust. Aki’s tongue followed closely, licking along the bottom of Kishibe’s shift as he exited and reentered you. The taste of both of you combined in his mouth, making his head fuzzy and his cock hard again. Aki adjusted his body so he could grind against the mattress, hips moving automatically toward the promise of stimuli. Kishibe started fucking into you at a steady pace, no longer fighting for entry, your wetness and Aki’s saliva giving him the lubrication to fuck into you evenly. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Kishibe growled in your ear, squeezing your left breast so hard you cried out, “Such a slut, one’s not enough for you, is it?”

Aki felt himself about to rush to defend you, looking up from between your legs. But he saw you, pressing your forehead against Kishibe’s and nodding. Your eyes were frenzied and desperate, locked in a stare with him. Your hips moving up and down his length, your mouth open and panting. He thought, briefly, that he saw the shade of love shadow your eyes as well. Perhaps there was more to this situation that he realized. But he was broken from his wondering by Kishibe pulling his hair, directing him to resume eating you out. 

You let out a long, high pitched whine as he did, slumping further against Kishibe, whimpering out nonsense.

“Baby pleeeeease…oh aki yes…kishi…i--fuck.” You fucked yourself onto Kishibe’s cock, grinding against Aki’s mouth, mind numbing at the intensity of the pleasure. 

You clenched again, causing Kishibe’s cock to slip out, but Aki caught it. He pumped it a few times in his hand before taking it into his mouth. Kishibe half groaned and half chuckled, one hand coming up to circle your clit, making sure you weren't forgotten about. He wanted to see what Aki could do. Aki slurped around the thick cock, tasting you in every inch. It was more exploratory than it was focused on making Kishibe cum. He toyed with how far he could swallow it, trying to ascertain whether Kishibe preferred a feel throat or a swirl around the tip. Your wetness has saturated his lap, wetting Aki’s nose every time he sucked down to the base. He was impressed with himself. Still got it. You watched as Kishibe expertly played with your clit just about where Aki’s head bobbed. You watched his pretty cheeks go gaunt as he sucked hard, feeling Kishibe shudder underneath you. Finally, breathless, Aki released Kishibe’s dick and poised it for your to sit on once more, Kishibe wasting no time fucking into you. With renewed vigor, Kishibe thrust up, loud plap- plap-plaping coming from beneath you. 

“Shes going to cum.” Aki smiled, noting your quivering, fluttering hole, slurping noisily around Kishibe’s base then up to your clit again.  

Kishibe nodded, “I can feel her getting clamping down on me, fuck, Aki.”

Your body shook violently as you came, your mouth opened in a silent scream as Aki circled your clit over and over, Kishibe held you down against his hips, biceps curling around your chest and waist, forcing you in place. Aki watched as you came around Kishibe’s cock, a creamy white ring appearing at the base, more cum spilling out for him to drink up eagerly. Each lick made you shake more, you had become so sensitive, so malleable under their touch. As he saw your spent pussy hole soften, Aki wasn't sure what came over him. He coated one finger in your cum and pushed it inside against Kishibe’s cock. Both you and Kishibe moan deliciously. 

“Aki wait…” You started, breath slowly returning to you. 

“Fuck Hayakawa…” Kishibe smiled maliciously, “I didn’t know if you’d have it in ya.” 

Aki could only nod, eyes fixed on the sight of his finger sliding between your gushy walls and Kishibe’s hard, pulsating dick. 

“Have you ever…had two at once?” Aki’s voice sounded distant even from himself. 

You shook your head, it began to dawn on you exactly what was about to come. Kishibe tapped the outside of your thigh. 

“Think you can get on your knees for me, sugar?” He kissed you softly as you nodded. 

He and Aki both helped you off, and both luxuriated in the moan you let out at no longer being full. Aki positioned himself underneath you, guiding your legs onto either side of his hips, hands gentle. He was starting to feel nervous for you, and a bit responsible. Kishibe positioned himself behind you, four hands now running up and down the length of your body. You felt dizzy, you had already cum twice, you felt fuzzy and blissed out, like you were in a dream. But feeling Aki’s cock slide between your lips reminded you of something. 

“Aki, don’t you want…” You trailed off when you met Aki’s eyes. 

Aki looked up at you so surely, so sweetly, without that usual veneer of calmness and guardian. He lay beneath you completely bare, ready to feel every corner of you uninhibited, and vice versa.

“Not this time.” He answered, leaning up to kiss you, hips thrusting upwards into your puffy pussy. 

Aki immediately broke the kiss to let out a shattered moan, he gripped your shoulders tight, digging his short clean nails into your flesh. It felt more different than he was expecting, he could feel the heat, the texture, the pulse of your walls all around him. How had he ever deprived himself of this? You sat up, sinking down completely on his length, bouncing a few times to get it really soaked, Aki was already whimpering underneath you. Kishibe’s hand moved over your shoulder, pushing you gently forward. He spit on his hand and coated his cock with it, then he spit once more on your pussy, sliding two thick fingers inside with Aki. He thrust his fingers in and out slowly listening to your moans, feeling Aki twitch against him. Eventually he added a third finger, stretching you further. Loud squelching began to fill the room. When he could finally add a fourth finger with little resistance, he knew you were ready. Kishibe removed his fingers, and after pumping his cock a few more times with his slick covered hand, he began to push inside. The burn was intense, the pressure building in your abdomen making your cry out into Aki’s neck. 

He ran his hands soothingly over your back, “I know, baby, I know. Fuck. But it feels good, right?”

“So….full…” Was all you could manage. 

Kishibe bottomed out inside of you, snug against Aki. The triad of you all stilled, no one moving for fear of disrupting the mind melting pleasure. They could feel each other, crammed together inside of you. You could feel both of them, their respective heartbeats pulsing through erections. You wondered if they could feel each other’s heart beats. You wondered if they could feel yours. You were struggling to hold yourself up, finally deciding to collapse into Aki’s chest. He peppered soft kisses around your face, along your neck. Kishibe leaned over to press wet, intentioned kisses to your shoulders and back.

“You’re doing so good, love.” He nosed the back of your neck, “Taking us so well. I’m going to try to move now, okay?”

You could barely hear him, pleasure and pain filling your ears. But you nodded, you had trusted them both this far. Kishibe pulled his hips back, you whined, Aki hissed and squeezed you down closer on his chest. Kishibe thrust in once more, you rocked forward, pressing your clit against the tuft of groomed public hair at Aki’s base. Kishibe shuddered above you, leaning over, effectively caging you in between him and Aki. Aki was lost beneath you, tears filling his eyes, arms keeping you flush against his chest. Kishibe found a workable pace, it was slow and careful, but it allowed for regular friction. You buried your head in Aki’s neck, the smell of his sweat mingling with his soap comforting you through the lasting pain. Kishibe separated your ass cheeks, treating himself to the sight of your stuffed full, watching as you released small bouts of squirt and cream around the pair of cocks inside of you. 

“F-fuck.” You whimpered out. 

“Slutty hole taking us so well.” Kishibe praised, his thumb circling your tight asshole, “That's all you want, right baby? To be full. To be used?” 

You nodded, the added sensation turning your brain to mush. Aki found a way to clamp his mouth down over one of your breasts, sucking purely for his own benefit, you could see tears slipping from his painfully shut eyes. There was so much stimuli, so much sensation, so much pleasure, it was hard to parse out just where your body ended and another began, boundaries and borders that once felt so precinct, were now missing. But they were not missed. You wanted to stay like this forever, filled by your two lovers, no thoughts outside of pleasing and being pleased. Aki gave no warning, the only indication that he was cumming was the muffled sob he let out against the flesh of your tit, and the trickle of white cum, thinner than before, sliding out from between his and Kishibe’s cocks. Kishibe felt the flood of warm cum, he felt the way that your body clenched to keep it inside. He thrust faster, Aki’s cum acting as the last bit of lubricant he needed to fuck into you more, this of course turned Aki into a sputtering, teary eyed mess underneath you. 

“Just hold on, I know.” Kishibe soothed, but not to you, he spoke softly to Aki, knowing his thrusting was bringing the younger hunter into overstimulation. 

Kishibe slid two fingers into Aki’s mouth, fucking harder into you. His hips jutted, he felt you tighten up around him once more.

“Baby please, fuck. Such a good fucking girl for me-- agh!” With a final snap of his hips, one near scream from Aki and a sniveling whimper by you Kishibe came. 

He bit down on your neck to stifle his own cry of climax. He rode out his orgasm, sending Aki into a fit, and sending you into your third orgasm of the evening. The culmination of pleasure caused Aki’s cock to slip out of you, giving the younger man a moment of solace, allowing him to start to catch his breath. He felt the run off of cum start to spill out onto his cock, onto the bed below him. You panted above him, hole free from one cock, carrying two loads and Kishibe still snugly inside. Kishibe’s teeth dug into your neck, Aki’s spit was drying against your nipple, only some of the sweat on your body came from you, your mouth tasted like both of them. You were lost between the two of them. The three of you stayed in this panting, searingly hot knot, until eventually Kishibe’s knees began to give out and rather than crush the poor lad underneath his and your body weight, he pulled out and off. Kishibe stood, stretching a moment before sauntering into the bathroom, wetting a rag and returning to clean the both of you. 

You lie next to Aki, face pressed against a pillow, one arm slung over his chest. Kishibe cleaned between your legs, privately mourning and reveling in the sight of so much cum flooding out of you. 

What a waste. 

He cleaned Aki as well, his cum coated cock, his sweaty chest, his soaked mouth. 

You clicked your tongue, “he’s spoiling you, Aki. Kishi never cleans me up.” 

“That’s not true. I just don’t usually use a rag.” Kishibe rolled his eyes before tossing the rag into your hamper and climbing in bed on the other side of you. 

You whispered to Aki, but loud enough for your other partner to hear, “he’s lying. You bring something out of him. Makes him want to be nicer. “

Aki laughed lowly. Kishibe swatted you once on the ass, the sting giving you a small aftershock. Then the larger man curled around beside you, easily pulling half of your body to rest on his chest. He kissed the side of your head as he felt your breath begin to even out. 

“You’re staying over?” You said, half awake. 

Kishibe nodded silently, kissing your head again, and then looking at Aki. You used your arm around his chest to pull him closer. 

“You too.” It wasn’t a question. 

Aki knew it wasn’t. He rolled onto his side, facing you and Kishibe, eyes meeting the exact image that had started this all for him, Kishibe at your side, kissing absently at your face and neck, calloused fingers running up and down your side. But this time, your hands held Aki’s hip, Kishibe’s eyes were kinder, not taunting but conspiratorial. Aki leaned forward and gave Kishibe a soft kiss, he wasn’t even sure if he closed his eyes, if he wanted this kind of gentle intimacy. But he didn’t push Aki away, and he did kiss him back. 

Aki wasn’t sure what tonight meant, or what he had stumbled into. He didn’t know if it would ever happen again, if it should, if it could, but he was happy he could share tonight with the two of you. 

You fell asleep first, one hand on Aki, Kishibe’s head snuggled into your neck. He fell asleep soon after, snoring against your skin. Aki took longer, mind reeling from what had happened. He felt held your hand up to his mouth and kissed it, before falling asleep himself. 

[cloudy-em]

Luca x Reader - cam girl SMUT

warnings: 18+, fem!reader, lingerie, dirty talk, online sex, toys, sub!reader, mild voyeurism, masturbation, light sir & chef kink

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

When Luca first discovered Y/N's cam page, he closed his laptop and pushed it away. She was his coworker, the saucier, and he wasn't sure he could face her in the kitchen if he jerked his dick to her videos. But he couldn't help the way his cock throbbed more in his pants. He had always found her quite attractive, and she would never even know if he had watched her videos or not.

So, he opened his laptop again, tugging down his pants and boxers, and clicking on her first video.

She wore a dark red lingerie set, the lace hiding her breasts and mound from view.

"I've waited all day to see you," Y/N's voice purred through the tiny laptop speakers. "I'm so needy without you, d'you wanna see?" Luca found himself whispering a "yes" in response, knowing fully well she couldn't hear him. But she began to strip on the screen, her tits on full display. Luca's cock strained, and he teased the head, wishing he could play with those beautiful tits, worship them with his mouth. He watched in awe as she stripped the panties as well, her soft pussy visibly wet and a cute red jewel tucked tightly into her ass. He watched as she grabbed the dildo from off screen running the length up her cunt to collect her wetness.

She spread her legs for the camera to view, and Luca could only focus on what it would be like to eat her for hours, keeping that beautiful cunt wet 24/7 for his use.

"Ah," her voice echoed through his bedroom. "You're so big, sir!" He watched her tight pussy struggle to take the dildo at first, having to work it into herself. Luca thought about destroying her with his size, her pussy would gush just to try and take his whole cock. She'd feel it in her stomach while he fucked her, moaning nothing but his name. On the screen, she thrusted the dildo in her cunt.

"Oh fuck, please sir, please cum inside me!" she begged over and over again. "Cum inside my pussy please!" Luca tugged his dick harder, growling aloud in his empty apartment, promising to fill her hungry pussy with his load. He imager her calling him chef instead of sir, and he only felt his cock get harder. He released on his hand, jerking himself beyond his orgasm.

He felt dirty masturbating to his coworker, but he couldn't help but feel it might've been the best orgasm of his life.

Thus began his ritualistic masturbation to her videos every evening after leaving the restaurant.

xxxxxxxxx

part 2???